Shrill Season 3 Review: Final Season Lacks Closure

Consistency has never been one of Shrill‘s strengths and this never feels more true than in Season 3. Shrill‘s farewell season manages to feature some of the show’s most emotionally revealing moments while also saddling us with what feels like too much filler material (and for an eight-episode season, that matters).

Most importantly, and likely most controversially, it lacks significant closure. Some viewers, I suspect, will accept this reality readily, comparing the messiness, confusion, and lack of clear answers in our thirties with what Shrill reflects on screen, but for others (like myself), Shrill will feel unfinished and unsatisfying.

Its lack of closure is irksome not only because it leaves unanswered questions and unmet promise but also because it feels counter to one of the reasons we watch television in the first place.

Part of why we tune into TV is for an escape but for so many of us, it’s to go on a journey with a character. Shrill‘s ending leaves us feeling like we’ve stopped a few train stops short of the destination. It’s abrupt, and the loss ends up stinging even more.

So, my friends, let’s mourn the dearly departed Shrill and hash through Season 3.

First off, Aidy Bryant is quietly brilliant. Bryant (or Lil Baby Aidy, as I prefer to call her) has been a clear standout on SNL through the years but as we’ve seen, success as a “not quite ready for primetime player” hasn’t always translated into other media formats.

Fortunately, Bryant has joined the likes of Will Ferrell, Adam Sandler, Kristin Wiig, etc. A post SNL career in film/television, including more dramatic work, is hers if she wants it.

Over the seasons, she’s imbued Annie with vulnerability, insecurity, and sensitivity, but also hasn’t shied away from showing that Annie sometimes, quite frankly, can be a complete narcissistic, callous, shortsighted asshole (this is also a credit to Shrill‘s writing. Perfect protagonists are like, so yesterday.

The best showcase for Bryant is probably Shrill Season 3 Episode 7, “Beach,” which moves back and forth in time, scuttling between a modern day couples vacation Fran (Lolly Adefope) and Annie have taken their partners on and the beginnings of their friendship in college.

While this episode gives us greater insight into Fran/Annie’s relationship, it also helps us track the development of Annie’s comfort with both her body and intimacy (both the physical and emotional kind) and the juxtaposition between the two time periods makes a compelling case for Bryant’s acting talents.

Bryant’s performance aside, Annie still isn’t the most interesting part of the season (or the series, really). That mantle belongs squarely to Fran (Lolly Adefope) and truly, it always has. Professionally and personally, Fran’s discovering and exploring new layers in Season 3.

Fran’s relationship with Em (E.R. Fightmaster) crackles with more chemistry than any heteronormative coupling on the show and their viewing of their sex tape on Shrill Season 3, “Ranchers,” is weirdly romantic and affirming. Watching their relationship crumble at the end of the season is devastating.

Ultimately though, it’s not Em and Fran’s relationship, or even any of Annie’s romantic relationships that end up being the “ship” of the show. Ultimately, the show posits, it’s Annie and Fran’s relationship that is “the greatest love of all time.”

On Shrill Season 3 Episode 8, “Move,” Annie confesses, “It’s been the two of us for so long and it’s always been the only thing that felt really good and in my mind you’re always my first call and the first person I want to tell everything to.”

Understanding how to let their bond coexist with their romantic relationships is a relatable challenge and good storytelling fodder, so it’s disappointing that we didn’t get another season to explore how you honor and balance your friendships and romances as well as how you redefine potentially codependent relationships.

That I would have liked to see. But alas, there wasn’t enough time to dig into it.

Ultimately, I appreciate that Shrill dared to venture into storylines and themes beyond those that focused on Annie’s body and how it impacted her day to day. That will likely be its most enduring legacy: fat women have lives, motivations, and experiences that aren’t centered solely on them being fat. 

However, while I appreciate that as a show, it called attention to this, it never developed its other storylines as well as it developed those around body image and weight, and now with its ending, it will never have the opportunity to improve on its foundations. 

Stray observations:

• Unlike many comedies, Shrill slips in its best lines and keeps propelling forward, not spending too much time congratulating itself on its own cleverness. My favorites include Annie referring to herself as a Human Muffin and Ruthie (Patti Harrison) matter-of-factly stating, “We are all single, incredibly stupid, and we’re bitches.” All of the female relationships showcased in this season were playful, fun, and supportive, providing nice moments for Shrill‘s supporting players.
• The relationship between Annie and Will (Cameron Britton) is a sweet addition, but also serves as one of the most “coulda-woulda-shoulda” aspects of the season. While Britton appears early on in the season, his relationship with Annie doesn’t really take off until the end of the season and it feels like it cools down almost as soon as it’s taken off.
• While the series manages to invest us in the Will/Annie romance, it’s still shortchanged. Spreading out the development of that relationship over the course of the season would have been a more effective way to build out that story (and understand Will better. There are still too many questions there).
• While Annie’s internalized fatphobia and its impact on her first impression of Will is compelling ground to cover, the overall ratio of her time with Will compared to the other failed couplings and embarrassing dates Annie experiences feels a bit unfair.  Heavier women can have satisfying or healthy romances; it’s not always a series of shame, awkwardness, and begging for scraps. Especially after breaking up with Luka last season, it would have been nice for the show to let Annie pivot to something less steeped in mortification and follow what that looks like.
• Fran and Annie move on from Annie’s “cancel culture moment on Shrill Season 3 Episode 5, “No,” and Episode 6, “Sorry” very quickly. Shrill‘s exploration of cancel/consequence culture is very much in line with its prior storytelling so I’m glad the plot point is included but the aftermath doesn’t quite go down in the way I’d expect. Perhaps this is a reflection of how quickly cancel culture cycles through people but Annie’s breach feels significant enough that she and Fran would experience more friction over it. After all, as a woman of color and a queer person, Fran already has to shoulder a significant burden as she walks through the world. Having to explain racism to her best friend should have been a bigger blip and a larger conversation.

 

What did you think of Shrill‘s final season? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

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Shrill is available to stream on Hulu. 

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