Too Much (Netflix)
It starts off shaky, but this Megan Stalter-led British-American rom-com blossoms into something soulful, smart, and sneakily special.
What’s it about? After a breakup, New York workaholic Jessica moves to London, planning on being alone. She meets Felix, who causes her to reconsider finding love again.
Who it’s for? Fans of Megan Stalter, Lena Dunham loyalists, if you like modern riffs on classic rom-coms, viewers who like flawed characters, fans of British-American culture clashes, if you love ensemble casts
Who should avoid? People allergic to Lena Dunham’s voice/style, if you dislike cringe humor, fans of more traditional rom-coms
Watch if you like: Girls, Hacks, Fleabag, Bridget Jones’s Diary, Materialists
News and Notes:
Released on July 10th
10-episode season
Schmear’s Verdict: Too Much stumbles early but blossoms into a messy, magnetic, and emotionally rich series, held together by a killer ensemble and the beating heart of Stalter and Sharpe.
If you've watched even a single episode of Hacks, you know who Megan Stalter is—a lightning bolt of pathos, humor, ridiculousness, and absurdity. So when I found out she was getting her own TV show—Too Much, developed, written, and directed by Lena Dunham—I was elated.
The series follows Jessica (Stalter), an American recovering from a bad breakup who impulsively moves to London and finds herself falling for a soft-spoken British musician (Will Sharpe) with his own emotional baggage.
The first two episodes of this new Netflix series worried me. The show initially fails to stand out, cycling through the kind of tropes and roteness you find in basically any romantic dramedy from the past few years. You can name ten different shows just like it. I wondered to myself, how and why is this a Lena Dunham series? When will it start to stick out? While Dunham’s direction is sound, the flatness of the colors does Too Much no favors—I hoped for more visual pop.
Something happens, though, around the third or fourth episode as the series clicks into place. Maybe it’s the consistency of the hysterical, heartfelt writing. Maybe it’s the commitment of the performances. Maybe it’s the enviable, super-stacked cast—including but not limited to Richard E. Grant, Naomi Watts, Janicza Bravo, Michael Zegen, Rita Wilson, and Emrata—all of whom bring exciting elements to the series.
It also might have to do with Sharpe, best known for The White Lotus S2, who plays Megan Stalter’s love interest. He’s a fully formed, three-dimensional character. His soulful, puppy-dog eyes reflect so much pain and love. He plays a struggling musician and recovering addict with intimacy issues but still manages to be a new definition of what it means to be a gentleman.
This series is clearly inspired by the books of Jane Austen and the Bridget Jones and Love Actually films—filtered through an American party-crasher like Stalter. Without her being as magnetic as she is, the show just wouldn’t work. She’s a deeply empathetic person. Characters around her are always commenting on how alive she feels, how in-the-moment she is. She speaks out of turn constantly, but for every faux pas, she also knows exactly the right thing to say.
It’s no surprise that Lena Dunham has created such an amazing female character after rewriting the blueprint of feminism on TV with Girls—a show that, just look around, is everywhere. Each generation wakes up to realize just how brilliant it was.
I don’t watch Emily in Paris, but I do watch “Jessica in London.” And this show—based on Lena Dunham’s own experience moving to London and falling in love with a British man—really speaks to what it means to be an outsider. The thrill of that, the fear of that. What it means to let new people into your life, along with all the baggage they bring—and all the baggage you bring too.
It’s a very real series that often has me cackling with laughter. It feels modern, even though its yearnings are classic. And it shares some DNA with Materialists—another story set in the present day but steeped in the spirit of British romcoms and class anxiety like Howards End or Pride and Prejudice. It’s interesting to see the romanticism in our hearts bump up against the real-world issues of society.
Too Much gets at that in a delicate, unshowy way—with big laughs, soaring emotion, and a central beating heart in Stalter and Sharpe. The supporting cast is stacked, the writing sharpens, and what starts off shaky becomes one of the most honest, surprising, and alive shows of the summer.
