It’s a Kelsey Peters world, and we’re all just living in (and for) it.
*****
HEAR ME OUT ON THIS: As I’ve mentioned before in this space, Sex and the City is one of my favorite shows of all time, one reason being how it evolved and became so enriched over six seasons. Anyone who watches the pilot—or even most of seasons one and two—will recognize an outline of what the show would eventually become, as short, episodic play-it-for-the-funny storylines gave way to deeper character development and richer storytelling starting in season three. From there, as the foursome’s relationships with one another and the situations they faced grew in complex, interesting directions, it came to be the show I know and love.
So, as I watched the recently ended, better-than-ever fourth season of TV Land’s Younger— with it’s longer, more involved scenes, stylish sensibility, high stakes dynamics and higher quality production values—I couldn’t help but wonder: Is this the new Sex and the City?
YES AND NO… BUT THAT EPISODE, THO: Alright, it might be a little too soon to call Younger the stilettoed heir apparent to culture-defining Carrie & the Ladies, despite the fact that Darren Starr—who created both series—seems to be following his own blueprint to next-level primetime soap success. With Sutton Foster’s Liza’s secret now out to a number of key characters—most notably BFF, Kelsey—and her on-the-edge romance with Charles heating up, three seasons’ worth of build-up was starting to pay off. Well, mostly.
While not each episode was a shining gem—for every awesome installment, there were one or two that were slightly left of spectacular—the penultimate one of this past season, ‘It’s Love, Actually,’ embodied everything Younger has become, and what it can be. With a glorious mix of madcap comedy (the gang together at the bar in the beginning, Lauren provoking Josh to follow Clare to Ireland) to deeply emotionally resonant moments (Diana dealing with the truth about Richard, Liza’s realization that she loves Charles after stepping aside for Pauline), the show overcame its occasional unevenness to soar to new, can’t-miss-a-second heights.
THE ROOTS ARE ON FIRE: A big reason for this successful storytelling is how the writers have delivered payoffs for compelling characters that they’ve been building from the ground up for years: a cast of deftly defined, multi-layered, strong modern women. But balance, again, is a problem: While Miriam Shor’s duh-vine Diana—THE ALL-TIME TV QUEEN OF ACCESSORIES—may take center in one episode, she spends the next two sitting behind a desk delivering comic relief quips to punch-up scenes. Ditto Debi Mazar as always-in-the-kitchen-with-a-cup-of-tea Maggie, and Molly Bernard as pansexual lover-of-life, Lauren. Not to discredit the guys, but these ladies are the strong, deep roots of the show, and seasons’ worth of seeing all facets of who they are—both to themselves and one another—has been what’s made the cornerstone moments of season four so memorable.
THAT’S ELIZABETH MCGUIRE TO YOU: Which brings me to the deepest root of all (despite there not being one in sight with her perfectly coiffed blonde locks): series MVP, Hilary Duff, as Kelsey Peters. All grown up with great places to go, Duff has been a revelation for me this season.
Easily eclipsing Liza as the most interesting character on screen, Duff’s unexpected choices and grounded, human inflections have made her Kelsey one of only a few depictions of a Millennial woman that exists at the realistic, conflicted intersection of badass professional success and the inevitable late 20’s search for self—in this case, none of which hinges on having a man. Just look at her scene with Josh on the dock where she stopped their kiss, to the way she served it right back to Zane with intelligence and savvy as opposed to victimizing herself or scheming in both the food truck and Monkey Bar scenes, and you have one of the best performances happening on TV right now. (Yup, I said it).
ZANE, ZANE, GO AWAY: Speaking of Zane: In light of how awesome I think Kelsey is, I’m sorry folks, but I can’t get behind him being a thread in the fabric of the show. The character has zero depth, his motivations aren’t clear and his behavior is unjustified. But moreover (MOREOVER!), why are the writers making room for him when there’s so much more the core cast could be doing (see: above)? Like some other players getting too bright of a spotlight (Josh, nothing but love, but you’re way too front-and-center with this Irish bartender arc), the writers are wasting precious screen time on a character that, for me, is the equivalent of Ellis from Smash. And that says it all.
AS YOUNGER GETS OLDER, IT (SHOULD) KEEP GETTING BETTER: While there’s room for improvement in the week-to-week and the finale didn’t totally do it for me—the phone ringing-during-wedding vows cliffhanger was kinda lame—my hopes are high that Younger tightens its trendy studded storytelling belt and leans on its next-level roster of complex ladies to become the Sex and the City protégé I know it can be in season five. Served with a side of Cosmos for old time’s sake and good luck, natch.
TEAM DIANA