In season one of Shrill, the Aidy Bryant vehicle based on the Lindy West memoir of the same name, Annie Eaton’s (Bryant) newly discovered confidence turns her into a flaky friend. Her roommate Fran (Lolly Adefope) sums it up succinctly: “Annie’s having a selfish period.” Season two continued to explore the thin line between self-love and self-obsession. But by the end of season three, the selfish period seems like more of a selfish lifestyle.
Hulu made the call to end Shrill with season three. Maybe that’s why the final eight episodes seem scattered, with an ending so ambiguous that it feels like a Bat Signal for another network to scoop up the show. When we last saw Annie, fireworks blazed triumphantly as she broke up with her deadbeat boyfriend. The proclamation seemed promising—Shrill is the rare show that spotlights hot fat sex, so surely a newly single Annie could bed a few hunky prospects while reveling in her newfound desirability as a fat woman. Instead, the girl can’t catch a romantic break in the new season. From disastrous dates to humiliating rejections, the dating world does not treat her kindly.
By contrast, her roommate Fran—played by the brilliantly hip Adefope—embarks on her first serious relationship in the new episodes. After she and her partner Emily (E.R. Fightmaster) film an embarrassing albeit hilarious sex tape, they say “I love you” for the first time. Right on cue, Annie bursts into the room, demanding comfort after a dating disaster. In the middle of Fran and Emily’s sweet, funny moment, Annie provides a jarring reminder that she is the main character, something season three never lets you forget.
As her dating prospects tank, Annie’s journalism career is on the rise. She’s tired of being pigeonholed as a fat girl writer, so she takes an assignment to profile a separatist society on the outskirts of Portland—despite her coworkers’ misgivings that a feature will give racists a platform. This leads to the crux of the season: The article drops, and Annie gets canceled. This could allow for a nuanced look at consequence culture (which is frequently and erroneously framed as “cancel culture”), media coverage, and the duality of white guilt and white responsibility. Instead, Annie makes excuses and jokes. After her queer, Black roommate rightfully calls her out, Annie apologizes with a sheet cake that says “Sorry I’m A Dumb White Witch.” The frosting might as well spell out “Keep centering my experience.” The show follows up Annie’s “apology” with a few jokes about a turd arriving in her hate mail, and then the conflict is abandoned.
Shrill has examined political movements before. Season two’s “WAHAM” skewered capitalist feminism while also understanding why women buy into it: The Women Are Happening Now conference sells women ways to “fix” themselves, but Annie also discovers the friendships formed under the umbrella of the scam. That episode tackled complicated subjects with a curiosity and generosity that feel largely absent from season three. Still, the new season has some highlights, especially when it comes to fat-on-fat attraction. After Annie rejects a blind date for being fat, she bumps into him again at a party and realizes her judgements were shallow. In the kitchen, she’s blunt with him—and with herself: “I was only thinking about myself and how embarrassed I’d be, that if anyone saw me as part of a pair of fats, that were together because that’s what we deserved,” she says.
Fatphobia within the fat community still feels like a taboo subject, and Annie’s willingness to work through it sets up season three’s best moments. It helps that Will is a total babe, serving young John-Goodman-but-make-it-nerdy vibes as he and Annie begin their courtship. The season’s highlight arrives in the penultimate episode, “Beach.” The narrative weaves together a current-day beach trip with college flashbacks, offering a tidy genesis to Annie and Fran’s friendship.
At the beach house, in the present day, Annie is intent on sleeping with Will. Until now, Shrill has mostly celebrated fat femme bodies; this final season gender flip comes as a welcome surprise. In 2021, it still feels novel to explore fat masculinity on camera. As Annie thirsts after Will, the viewer can appreciate his appeal, too. Will wears too-short cut-offs; he strips down to climb in the hot tub. As he and Annie explore their attraction to each other, it’s clear that they’re both hot because they’re fat—not in spite of it. It’s a shame that by the next episode, Annie leans into her insecurities once again.
In an interview with Variety, Aidy Bryant teased Shrill’s final season by saying, “Part of what this season is is just realizing that there is no end for people who are looking to find their own self-confidence. It is a constant, everyday thing.” Annie’s spiral reveals what she loses by leaning into her worst tendencies. But the season misses the second half of that equation: What does she gain when she works through those things?
From season one’s beloved Fat Babe Pool Party to the sparkling banter between Annie and Fran, Shrill has always been its strongest when exploring joy. The final season forgets that. In the last scene of the show, Annie promises to fix everything. It’s a shame we don’t get to see it happen.
27 Comments
I thought season 2 worked best when Annie was simply an observer such as the wedding episode and the women’s convention, that’s where I find the show shines the most. And we see a lot of Annie’s own biases get challenged in a relatable way that allows room to finally let her character grow. Hoping for more of that!
“Still, the new season has some highlights, especially when it comes to fat-on-fat attraction”I mean this is what I’m here for I can excuse some wonky storytelling. But damn, I really thought they wrote season 3 to have a series final 🙁
Ah damn, I like being entertained by funny fat people who are funny and fat. Did yall know there were fat people on this show? AND THEY ARE HILARIOUS!!
It’s disappointing to hear such an average review of the final season. I started Shrill with such high hopes, and I thought the first season was solid. But I kept hoping to see some development in the depth of the storytelling in season 2, and it just never really happened with regard to Annie. Frustratingly, you could see that the writers were capable of more nuanced work just by looking at Fran, whose character arc and storylines are far more interesting than Annie’s. Honestly, season 2 worked best when Annie wasn’t the center of attention. I think part of my disappointment stems from the understanding that Shrill is an outgrowth of Lindy West’s nuanced writing and considerable intellect. Maybe I was expecting Annie to be a bit more Lindy (or at least the public persona that Lindy projects) with regard to empathy and intellect. Annie seems to have little of either. I guess I’m just shocked at how the show seems to have gone all-in for like 3 seasons on building Annie to be self-centered, clueless, and shallow, and to never really have her meaningfully grapple with that and grow. Lastly, I think making Annie so self-centered really hindered the shows ability to explore with empathy and humor the experience of fat people in a society where fat phobia is perhaps the last acceptable form of bias.
The problem is that the show outgrew Lindy West’s memoir.People like to praise Annie for dumping her boyfriend at the end of season 2, but I found it very shallow. It was a basic “I’m better than you” break up.
I hated how that relationship and breakup progressed. As a narrative arc it should have been done at the end of season 1.
My wife and I were caught off guard by how *cruel* Annie seemed to be to him when she dumped him. Ryan was by no stretch perfect (or even a good boyfriend), but he genuinely seemed to care and was trying to be better for her sake; he was a manchild rather than a terrible person. It is not Annie’s responsibility to help him grow, but at the same time to break up with him like that seemed so unnecessarily harsh.
I’m just shocked at how the show seems to have gone all-in for like 3
seasons on building Annie to be self-centered, clueless, and shallow,
and to never really have her meaningfully grapple with that and grow.
So…Lena Dunham is Story Editor now…?That’s why I ended up hating GIRLS — so much of it felt like we were supposed to praise Dunham at her worst (though I strongly doubt she has any “best” to contrast it to!). I’d hate to think that show that was as nuanced as SHRILL would descend in Me! ME! ME! Dunham-hood….PS: It’s just as unattractive when Straight White Men do it.
“ I guess I’m just shocked at how the show seems to have gone all-in for like 3 seasons on building Annie to be self-centered, clueless, and shallow, and to never really have her meaningfully grapple with that and grow.”Admittedly, I haven’t watched every episode, but I’ve never gotten the impression the show has any idea Annie is self-centered, clueless, or shallow.
It is a weird disconnect for the viewer, particularly in season 2. Because Annie is behaving in more confident ways, but that is also leading to her being a selfish ass to a lot of her friends. It’s like her empathy evaporates, and yeah, it never seems like the show and its writers grapple with that. They resolve conflict in very superficial ways (usually with the friend accepting a brief apology and Annie vowing to be better before she goes and does the same self-centered shit all over again). I feel like a room full of writers should know that this is the character they’ve built, but maybe not. Maybe they’re the clueless ones. Mostly, I’m just bewildered by the latent promise of Shrill that went completely unfulfilled. It had a chance to show rich inner lives of fat people, POCs, and the queer community. It delivered extreme mediocrity instead.
Honeself, every episold I watch I hate Annie more and more. I want to be impressed by how she doesn’t let people down but she is so mean and selfish that I honestly hate her. This show would be so much better with all the other characters and Annie as. Side character. What she did to nick and will is unforgivable to me. She’s really terrible for her personality.
Oh shit, you should have just said Will was played by Cameron Britton. I’ve been lusting over his ass for a minute now.
It took me until the beach episode to figure out why the way he speaks and purses his lips were so familiar. Then I remembered a line he says during their disastrous blind date (I think? Maybe a different scene?)- doesn’t he say something self-effacing like, “Well, I’m not a serial killer”. I have to go back and rewatch that scene.
It’s impressive that Lolly Adefope is on four different TV shows at once (this, Ghosts, Miracle Workers, and This Time with Alan Partridge), even if Partridge under-uses her.
her character in Ghosts is so cute, i love that lil show
Have you seen her season on Taskmaster?
Watch season 4 of Taskmaster. Fab contestant, her attempt at sliding down a gravel driveway on a plastic sled was solid gold.
“Season two’s “WAHAM” skewered capitalist feminism while also understanding why women buy into it: The Women Are Happening Now conference….”Just watched this one. It actually stood for Women Are Having A Moment
Oh, wow, I didn’t realize Bryant and Dakota Johnson looked alike.
I think “consequence culture” is a bit of a disingenuous way of framing the issue. Yes, at heart, that’s what it is, but those consequences are frequently waaaaay out of proportion, and it’s perfectly fair to have misgivings about that.At any rate, I have the same problem with Shrill that I have with a lot of Lena Waithe’s stuff: it seems designed to be thinkpieced about rather than watched.
Problem with the term “consequence culture” is it can mean everything from a a person getting in trouble for bad tweets to a rapist losing their job.
“Consequence culture” is a new one on me. Do enjoy it when the sides of the culture war play linguistic field position games.
It’s been strange to see so many progressives either try to re-frame cancel culture, or flat-out claim it doesn’t exist. I have mixed feelings about it*, but I think if you’re going to be basically pro-cancellation, you should own that shit. Call it what it is—it’s named after a term the progressives themselves came up with, after all—and be proud of what you’re doing, if it is indeed a thing one can be proud of.* Mixed feelings amount to: I think it’s great that a lot of scumbags are finally seeing some consequences for their misbehavior and vile words. I also think there have been too many instances of the Twitter mob ganging up on people who basically didn’t deserve it and trying as hard as possible to ruin their lives. Jon Ronson wrote a whole book about that, interviewing people that were canceled well out of proportion to their meager sins, and it still troubles me.
Thanks for the review, was looking forward to this but will lower my expectations a bit. I mostly watch it because of Aidy—such a natural actress and always rises above her material.
This has come out on my birthday and it’s the one and only gift I looked forward to. Knocked over the whole season in 2.5 hours and frankly, really disappointed.Just kind of aimless, felt too short, rehashed and unsure of itself. It’s the 3rd returning show I’ve seen this year where I wish they had waited longer to return and taken the time and effort to write or re-write. This was some half-assed panic writing and it really showed.First season was fantastic. Second was pretty good. This was barely passable.
There is something very special about E.R. Fightmaster. Talk about lighting up a room! I can’t be the only one who is completely mesmerised by their screen presence.
I do admire this show’s attempt at self-awareness and exploring privilege, but it still feels like a self-indulgent spiritual successor to Girls in the end.
Just wrapped up season 3 and we were disappointed. Annie went from generally good person dealing with insecurities and a largely uncaring world to someone who briefly took control of her life to… season 3’s resentful, selfish border-line villain-of-her-own story. It got difficult at times to cheer for her. Moreover, she should know better. She is immediately off-put by Will on the first date which, fine, but as a human being she agreed to this date and he is a doof but not dangerous; there is no reason for her to be so cold. Similarly when she tells her parents that they are thinking of moving in together after 2 months together (without having discussed it)… like, come on. Not only is that selfish, but if Ryan/Will had suggested that, she would have gone apeshit. And telling Nick to fuck off after he gave off mixed messages but ultimately had no romantic interest in her? It was just really unfortunate, especially for a series my wife and I enjoyed and prompted a lot of thoughtful conversations, to just devolve into Annie being a kind of awful person and handwaving it away at the end with “growing up, amirite?”