5 days ago
What a relief – a modern comedy in which no one is grappling with their sexual identity
Can a man and a woman ever truly be best mates without the thorny issue of sex rearing its ugly head? It seems odd that in this age of gender neutrality, diversity this and diversity that, for a sitcom to be grappling with this age-old dilemma.
But that's exactly where we are with Platonic (Apple TV+), in which Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne, as Will and Sylvia, bicker and bitch, fall out, fall in, and generally display all the hallmarks of an old-school married couple. But they are – and always will be, unless the show ultimately loses the plot – just good friends. Will and Sylvia are a couple you really are rooting for not to get together.
To circle back to that opening question, boy does it feel good to land in a world where absolutely no one is grappling with a sense of their sexual identity. There is a place for all that, but it's become such a box-tick in modern comedy that it's now a cliché. Platonic, for all its witty barbs at the state of the world, plays a straight bat when it comes to relationships.
We're in the second series now and the pattern (I'm being kind and not saying formula) is clear. Artisan craft brew master Will, a man-child with an unfortunate fondness for garish bucket hats, and Sylvia, a law graduate who gave up her career to be a full-time mother-of-three – yes, she's bitter – are so in tune with each other they could be twins. But closeness strikes sparks and the explosions come at regular intervals.
Rogen and Byrne, both at the top of their game, have an absolute blast ripping into each other in spats that kick off playfully but invariably tip over into the spiteful, causing chaotic schisms in a friendship that gets patched up over and over. Because these two are meant to be together, just not together.
It makes for an honest, fractious and totally believable portrayal of a male and female friendship, built around a plot that bounces through bar business bust ups, mid-life crises – Will is around two decades too old to dress the way he does, we all know one of those – and astutely observed takes on the ever widening generation gap between boomers, Gen-Z and whatever other label has popped up in the last five minutes.
Everyone around Will and Sylvia gets jealous of their special relationship as a given, the comedy flip-flops between broad slapstick – in scenes oddly reminiscent of Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em, things inevitably go belly up whenever the pair get together – and the slyly subtle. A bed scene soundtracked by Brit indie band Wet Leg, I confess, tickled the schoolboy smutkid lurking inside me.
There is breathing space, supplied by an enjoyable supporting cast in which Carla Gallo as Sylvia's sardonic female friend and Luke Macfarlane as her implausibly buff lawyer husband provide shades of light relief. You need that because being around Will and Sylvia can be both hilarious and exhausting; they're the kind of people you look forward to coming round, but who you breathe a huge sigh of relief when they leave. Don't we all need mates like that?
