Judd Apatow’s new Netflix comedy series, Love, joins the likes of the Duplass Brothers’ Togetherness, Lena Dunham’s Girls (HBO), and Jill Soloway’s Transparent (Amazon Prime) as awkward, hilarious, honest, and very self­-aware commentary on contemporary relationships. Apatow, who mentored Dunham in bringing her cringe­worthy Girls to HBO, is one of the pioneers of this form of relational comedy; his short­lived series Freaks and Geeks and his films The 40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, Funny People, This is 40, and Trainwreck have had strong followings. The characters, however selfish and idiotic, are mirror reflections of our own classic relational fuck­ups.

Netflix’s Love is not smooth­-as-­-a­baby’s­-ass Matthew McConaughey (pre­McConaissance) meets Sara Jessica Parker/J­Lo/Kate Hudson romantic comedy. It is anxious, ugly sex, abrasive personalities, and a level of immaturity that only Apatow’s characters could attain. Paul Rust (Inglourious Basterds, I Love You Beth Cooper) joins Gillian Jacobs (Community, Girls) in a romance that somewhat evokes what I like to call the “Annie Hall formula.” You more than likely have seen this formula played out before. If you have seen Garden State, 500 Days of Summer, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, ANY movie featuring Michael Cera, or the timeless Woody Allen classic itself, Annie Hall, then the formula is a familiar one. The young, sad, dorky, self­deprecating, down­on­his­luck, neurotic white man meets the young, zany, hip, exuberant, free­spirited white woman. Then, she changes his life.

Rust plays Gus, a sad sack Woody Allen look alike carrying a broken heart and trying to make sense of love after his live­in girlfriend Natalie admits she cheated on him. He takes the news like a puppy takes not having puppy chow in it’s bowl. We get the impression that if Gus even attempted rage, his frail body would probably snap in half. Gillian Jacobs plays Gus’s foil, Mickey. Mickey is a “recovering” addict who loves sex and is extraordinarily insecure about everything. Mickey drinks regularly throughout the show, but insists to her friends that she is “in recovery.” Her on­again, off­again boyfriend finds a cult and leaves her. She has her own set of Annie Hall­ish neuroses, but Mickey ain’t no Diane Keaton. She smokes too much, drinks too much, and fucks her boss at a radio station simply because she thinks he’s creepy.

These are our two Apatowian fuck­ups, which means they are likeable (hell, even loveable) fuck­ups. But these characters are also major pains in the ass. Apatow’s characters, much like the women on Girls and the children of Jeffrey Tambor’s Maura on Transparent, are self­absorbed. Never have I ever seen such selfish characters! This self­-absorption adds to their charm, but just as fervently detracts from it.

In one episode, we see Mickey set Gus up with her Australian roommate Bertie (Claudia O’Doherty). This is a blind date situation, concocted by Mickey in order to keep Gus off of her trail. She can tell Gus is in to her and that terrifies her. Gus is an anxious, neurotic mess the entire date, and Bertie just really isn’t that in to him. Bertie means to text Mickey this fact while she is in the restroom, but, she accidentally sends the text to Gus. Whoops! Yet another post­modern relationship blunder of our lazy, selfish, apathetic generation of young adults!

In another episode, Gus and Mickey go on their first date to a magic castle. Gus loves magic shows and is trying to be a good date by planning a whole night of formal attire and card tricks. Mickey would rather stay in, not wear a bra, eat pizza, and have sex. She decides it would be best to ruin the whole night by being aggressive and rude. Love, it turns out, means different things to these characters.

Love is well written and acted. The characters are relatable and, for some strange reason, we root for them, even though they are, essentially, awful people. This is what I find both attractive and terribly discouraging about Love and shows like it — All of the twenty ­something and thirty­-something characters are God­awful and annoying. At times, I welcome the annoyance because Mickey and Gus make me laugh. Other times, I listen to my wife who says, “These characters really annoy me! I don’t watch television to be annoyed and frustrated.”

Depending on your reason for sitting in front of the TV at the end of the work day, Love may or may not be your cup of tea. For me, it depends on the day. I just hope and pray that I don’t act so selfishly and rudely as these characters and that one day, someone (please, dear God!) will write a show about twenty and thirty­-somethings who are intelligent, kind, whole, healthy, well-­rounded, compassionate people.

Josiah Richard Armstrong is a hospital chaplain from Western New York. He is also a playwright and amateur cartoonist. Follow him on Twitter @JosiahArmstrong and Medium, where he writes more reviews for film and television.

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