If you are craving a binge resonant to the film “Crazy, Stupid, Love” but without the originality, wit or charm, Netflix’s new series “Easy” is the show for you. “Easy” succeeds in depicting real relationships, yet fails at offering a reason for us to care. The anthology-style series was quietly released September 22 and it seems to have already faded away. After watching the eight half-hour episodes in the style of separately packaged short films, I did not feel satisfied in the least. I was excited to explore a show that had the potential of offering a commentary on the complexity of modern dating, yet it floundered its chance with tangential misdirection and shallow material.
The dramedy stars a unique, mixed bag of celebrities and unknowns. The Hollywood stars include Dave Franco, Malin Akerman, Orlando Bloom, comedian Hannibal Buress, Jake Johnson (“New Girl”) and model-turned-actress Emily Ratajkowski. It feels too much like the stars decided to collectively join this low-commitment project to cross off “artsy, low-budget short” from their bucket lists, without considering the poorly developed material. The series threw substance out the window in the majority of its episodes with only a few decent chapters to rescue its underwhelming nature. The quality is inconsistent as some episodes are very strong while others lack the same impact.
Each episode focuses on a different relationship that varies in terms of sexual orientation, ethnicity, nationality and age. It unravels like a collection of intimate short films glimpsing at a variety of different Chicagoan relationships and the many different forms they take. I interpreted the title “Easy” as an attempt to ironically convey how relationships are, in fact, really hard. This concept is an interesting idea if it were executed properly. The experimental, rule-breaking editing style gives the series a certain cohesive casualness with each patched together take to successfully emit an intimate tone. Sex is not glamorized or montaged and fights are not fast and abridged. The relaxed camera style feels purposeful—like we are watching a case study with the characters as subjects and us viewers as observers to watch the bizarre and complex phenomenon that is human relationships. This concept is complemented well by the episode “Art and Life,” in which a famous graphic novelist sleeps with a young student (Ratajkowski) who secretly photographs the experience for her art collection, to the horror of the author. This evokes concepts of privacy in the millennial era and the big question of many philosophy classes: “What is art?” Despite this episode substantially hinting to the possible core this series may hold beneath its shallow layers, there are not enough intriguing shorts like this one to keep the series afloat.
As the characters attempt to try new things in their relationships and break free from old habits, succeeding or failing, there is rarely any depth to these scenarios. The improvisation style of the actors is meant to create authenticity and build off the casual nature of the filming, yet the material ends up more drab and dull than genuine and stimulating. Is this reaction because the show lacks depth, or is it to reveal a truth about our society—that our conflicts, worries and anxieties over relationships are meaningless trivialities. Either way, nobody likes a reality check, even if it’s streaming on Netflix.
