As I caught up on Thomas’s series, it became my answer to a common question: “What’s a show that will comfort me, not make me feel more miserable?” For a series with so many unhappy characters, “Please Like Me” is a surprisingly joyful watch. Still, what makes the show unique, and lends it a rare toughness, is the bond between Josh and Rose, who is played with bravura fragility by Debra Lawrence. Rose—mouthy, brash, unpredictable—is hard to deal with, but you root for her, as she tries various medications, struggles with relationships, and comes to terms with her diagnosis as bipolar. Josh loves his mother deeply; he also views her as a burden. The show is refreshingly uncorny about subjects like this. As humane as it is, “Please Like Me” has none of the bullying positivity of more formulaic “issue TV”: it allows for the rough fact that not everything can be fixed. That might sound depressing. It’s not; it’s a relief.

i-heart-scully:

I want to help you figure out where this darkness is coming from. 

i-heart-scully:

Quinn, this is not funny. I mean, like it or not, reality TV shapes our world. 

(3x2)

i-heart-scully:

You’re scaring the hell out of me, Rachel. Where are you?

(3x6)

lattefoam:

“And as far as ever implying that I am a dried-up hag aging my way out of the industry, you might want to drop that narrative and admit that I own your ass now.

(3x5)

(3x5)

lattefoam:

“Now that is how you look at a woman.” - Quinn King

I’m glad I’m still uncynical enough that for a split second I truly thought a kiss was happening. (3x6)