"I'm always three things," our protagonist, Clare (Kathryn Hahn), says towards the end of episode 2 of Hulu's Little beautiful things. “I am my mother's daughter. I am my daughter's mother. And I'm an accomplished writer - even if I haven't reached it yet. These lines serve as a sort of thesis statement for the dramedy that introduces us to Clare at a time when her family, writing career and life in general are, to put it bluntly, in shambles.
Lady Bird captured the complexities of the mother-daughter relationship in 2017 with an authenticity I hadn't seen before, and Everything Everywhere Everything at once did it again last year. I'm happy to report that Little beautiful things joins these greats - and manages to do it twofold, focusing on Clare's relationship with her daughter Rae (Tanzy Crawford) in the present, as well as exploring her relationship with her own mother through flashbacks. These flashbacks, which always feel seamlessly intertwined, serve as important touchstones in telling us why Clare started writing - and why she finally stopped.
Ironically, what prompts her to pick up the pen again (or, technically, fire up the laptop) is to take over an advice column called Dear Sugar, where people write with questions about relationship struggles, trauma, and everything in between. While Clare may be a mess (the pilot's first scene of her singing along to Nelly's "Ride wit Me" while sloppily drunk — in a Hawaiian shirt, no less — is enough to establish that all is not well), she's an expert on the complications of love and loss, having experienced both first hand. Despite her reluctance to take over the column at first, Clare proves to be a natural, and by helping her readers heal, she begins to do just that.
Just as Clare is a perfect fit for the Dear Sugar column, Hahn is the perfect fit to embody her - though that's probably a less-surprising revelation for anyone familiar with her work. Hahn has always had the rare ability to oscillate effortlessly between comedy and drama, bringing a striking amount of nuance and empathy to her characters, no matter how big the role. (Fortunately, those roles have gotten bigger and bigger in recent years, earning her the leading lady status she's always deserved.) With projects like Mrs Fletcher, Private lifeAnd Afternoon delight under her belt, she's no stranger to playing flawed, multidimensional women in the midst of an identity crisis - this role is firmly in her wheelhouse.
But make no mistake: this is still a special achievement. Hahn is always phenomenal, but she's never been better in what might be her most challenging role to date. It requires her to be funnier, deeper and more layered than ever - to comfort an Alzheimer's patient in a very touching scene one moment before turning around and giving her a shockingly selfish move - and not only does she rise to the challenge, but she makes it look easy. In a way, it feels like every previous project has led up to this role, allowing her to combine and showcase her wide range of skills within the same character.
And Hahn is not the only star. Sarah Pidgeon has the daunting task of playing Clare during her teens and twenties when many of the events that fundamentally shaped her took place: namely, her mother's illness. It's almost eerie how well the portraits of her and Hahn line up, right down to their facial expressions and mannerisms. Pidgeon fearlessly captures that same tricky but crucial combination of fierce stubbornness and soul-wrenching vulnerability. It's easy to see the through line between them - the ripple effect. Pidgeon's star has been steadily rising ever since The wildernessand I'd be shocked if this doesn't (rightly) catapult her career to the next level.
However, it should be noted that Pidgeon does not act alone. Much of her scenes are shared with Merritt Weaver — another criminally underrated talent — who plays her mother, Frankie. There are a lot of things on this show that will make you cry, but Weaver is probably the main culprit. By the end of the series, I had developed something of a Pavlovian response where the waterworks would begin whenever she appeared on screen. In many ways, Frankie is Clare's opposite, with a quiet composure that both complements and clashes with Clare's louder, more wild ways. There's a version of this story where Frankie is a bland, one-dimensional saint, but luckily this is far from it. Weaver imbues Frankie with a playful charm and easygoing wit, her serenity being the source of her strength. It's clear where Clare gets her passion, humor and intelligence from and clear how much the two love each other. Pidgeon and Weaver are an absolute delight, with their dynamic rooting of the show.
Like I said, the show pretty much made me cry every episode, but I never felt like it was to attempt generate tears. There is a refreshing lack of emotional manipulation. Instead, the writing feels honest, and there's a bite and edge that balances the sentimentality, undercutting any moments that feel like they could spiral into territory that's either too melodramatic or bland. The structure of the show is deceptively simple, but it's really quite an achievement Liz Tigelaar and her team of writers have managed to achieve. Not only are they tasked with fusing two timelines together, but a third layer is added to everything when the Dear Sugar letters (drawn from Cheryl got lost's book) come into play. It would be easy for at least one of these elements to feel forced, but Tigelaar does a masterful job of aligning all the moving parts thematically, making for a cohesive viewing experience throughout each of the eight 30-minute episodes.
The half-hour episodes maintain a tight pace, and my only real complaint is that it can feel a little off at times at narrow. Tigelaar makes wise use of the real estate she has - especially considering that this is ultimately Clare's story and journey - but one can't help but want to spend more time with the other people in her life: namely her daughter Rae and husband Danny (Quentin Plair). There's an episode near the end of the season where we get to spend a significant amount of time with Rae without Clare present, and it does wonders for fleshing out her character, pushing her beyond the "rebellious teen" trope. I only wish we could have gotten more of those scenes sooner, as well as some solo time with Danny.
We see quite a bit of Clare's relationship with her brother Lucas (Owen Painter) during her earlier years - their sibling being one of my favorite aspects of the show - and while his presence certainly looms large and is key to today's plot, I felt his physical absence for most of the season. I found myself wanting to see more of him as an adult for the kind of grand finale. The focus on Clare's once again thriving writing career - while well integrated into the story - also takes a backseat to the family drama at times, and it would have been nice to delve deeper into what this column could mean for her in a professional way. level in addition to the effect it has on her emotionally.
Still, it's a rare problem to have so many streaming series feel bloated and overlong these days and perhaps more of a testament to how intriguing each character is that I always craved more of them. I like watching spin-offs focused on Clare's girlfriend Amy (the always excellent Michaela Watkins) and her bar, sassy Gen Z colleague from the retirement community Shan (Elizabeth Hinkler), or Rae's friend Montana's (Aneasa Jacob) rise to TikTok stardom.
"When a gift is given," Clare says at the end of the pilot after reflecting on the last gift her mother ever gave her — a puffy yellow jacket she didn't want at the time, "say thank you." This series feels like a gift - one of hope, one that shows you're never alone, and one that promises it's never too late to chase your dreams - to anyone struggling to figure it out. Just like Strayed's wonderful source material, Hulu's Little beautiful things uses specificity to comment on universal experiences and has a unique ability to reduce the most complex subjects to their simplest, most resonant parts. And that's why I have to say thank you.
Judgement: A-
All episodes of Little beautiful things will be available to stream on Hulu April 7.
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