Should You Bet On Better Things?

What Is This Thing?

Former child actor Sammy Fox (former child actor Pamela Adlon) is now Sam, grown-up character actor and the single mother of three daughters, doing her best to navigate her life and career in Los Angeles (and sometimes Canada if a cheap sci-fi show needs her for a guest shot).

When Is It On?

10 PM ET Thursdays on FX.

Why Was It Made Now?

Louie -- on which Adlon has both written and appeared -- is one of FX's biggest critical comedy hits, but its titular creator/star Louis C.K. seems less interested in making it with each passing year; its last episode aired more than a year ago, with no sixth season in sight. Therefore, it makes sense to greenlight this quasi-replacement: Adlon co-created Better Things with C.K., who also directed the pilot. Better Things also shares with FX's other new comedy, Atlanta, the distinction of being a sitcom that isn't about white guys. Sure, it's about a white woman, but since she's a white woman over forty, it's still pretty radical for television.

What's Its Pedigree?

In addition to the above-named Adlon and C.K., British Hey! It's That Guy! Celia Imrie co-stars intermittently as Sam's mother, who happens to live across the alley from Sam. The first few episodes also feature guest spots by Constance Zimmer, Bradley Whitford, Lenny Kravitz, David Duchovny, José Zúñiga, Dale Dickey, Carlos Jacott, and David Herman -- some as themselves (Duchovny is particularly fearless playing himself as the star of a show Sam's guesting on and a complete dingus), some not.

...And?

Sam feels like a fully three-dimensional character right from the pilot's cold open: in the scene depicted at the top of this page, Sam scrolls through her phone while her youngest daughter Duke (idk with that name) stands beside her, half-assedly throwing a tantrum. Finally feeling the judgmental gaze of the stranger at the other end of the mall bench, Sam meets it to explain that Duke wants Sam to buy her a pair of shitty earrings she already has at home, and would this woman like to shut Duke up by buying them for her? I don't have kids, but I have to think this is a conversation parents fantasize having with judgy buttinskys.

Though she's in a relatively glamorous line of work, Sam's hassles feel eminently relatable. This fortysomething lady may not have the luxury of asking a makeup artist to address her chin hairs but...uh, you know. I feel her bone-deep exhaustion at home after dinner, wanting nothing more than to snuggle with her daughter but knowing she shouldn't stop moving or she'll fall asleep and leave chores undone. And while the "watching the texting dots appear and disappear" device is overused lately, there's an instance in the series premiere that's probably the most effective use I've ever seen -- all because of the play of hopefulness and dismay that play out on Adlon's face.

Imrie is predictably great as Phyllis, Sam's bubbly mother. I won't ruin the third episode, in which Sam invites her director Mel (Kravitz) over for dinner, except that Mel chides Sam for not having warned a white lady over the age of seventy that a black guy was coming by so that she could prepare, and Phyllis proves RATHER MEMORABLY how right Mel is.

The only thing you may actually need to know about this show to get you on board, though, is that the series premiere finds Sam going to a casting session where she ends up sitting next to Constance Zimmer.

"Figures," snorts Zimmer ruefully, as her type-mate Sam puts on her glasses, which are identical to Zimmer's. They snicker companionably about the shitty material they've been given to read and briefly catch up on one another's lives until...

As soon as Sam sees that Julie Bowen's in the mix, she's pretty sure she doesn't need to waste her time auditioning and peaces out. Of course it's basically complimentary to Bowen -- her career is going so well that Sam definitely isn't in competition with her -- but setting Bowen up as our heroine's nemesis feels like a dog whistle just for me.

...But?

Any time kids have significant roles in a TV show, there's the risk that they won't be equal to the material. As eldest daughter Max, Mikey Madison is solid; Hannah Alligood and Olivia Edward as Frankie and Max are less consistent. There's also a climactic speech from Sam in the second episode that feels more writerly than realistic -- but even then, Adlon puts it over with the force of her charisma.

...So?

As I noted on the last episode of the Extra Hot Great podcast: I love it. I burnt out on Louie in Season 4, but I always loved seeing Adlon's name in the opening credits because her spikes gave those episodes an unpredictable energy that was more exciting than many more without her. Having her Sam at the center of the series makes every episode feel like a treat.