Note: The following contains minor story-arc spoilers for HBO/Max’s “Somebody Somewhere.”
The collision between the streaming era of television and fraught political and cultural times has produced a new question to the menu of small talk we make in an attempt to build bridges: What are you watching?
Answers these days often fall into one of two categories. Either we are re-watching some comfort blanket series or trying to find some diamond-in-the-rough show that few people have heard of.
Some of us are doing both.
Based on its recent movement on the Apple TV+ chart, I suspect I’m not the only person going through a re-binge of “Ted Lasso.” And based on recent random conversations, my on-the-fringe binge, “Somebody Somewhere,” is likely to see a “Schitt’s Creek” level, late-in-series surge in popularity.
Amid the anxiety and frenetic activity of a troubling election year, “Somebody Somewhere” has been the balm to my soul that “Ted Lasso” was during the first pandemic year.
“Somebody Somewhere” follows Sam, who moved back to her hometown of Manhattan, Kansas, at some point in the previous year to care for her sister Holly. After Holly’s death from cancer, Sam stayed, moving into Holly’s house, reconnecting with her family, and building a new one through a community of friends.
Sam is played by celebrated New York cabaret performer Bridget Everett.
A glimpse into Sam’s world reveals deep, understated joy and equally deep, understated sadness walking alongside each other, usually at a slow pace.
The community around Sam includes individuals who, in the hands of less capable writers, would end up as caricatures of outcasts on the margins, foils for cheap laughs. What you get instead are “real people” of rural America who often don’t get referred to as such because they aren’t white, male, straight or cisgender.
There’s Fred Rococo (played by Murray Hill), a professor of agriculture at Kansas State University who befriends and helps Sam’s father with his deteriorating farm. He is a jovial man liked at the local diner and well known for driving a K-State party bus around town on gamedays.
Fred is also trans.
Tricia, Sam’s other sister, is a struggling small business owner whose life falls apart when she discovers her husband is sleeping with her business partner. In a fit of rage, she creates an “inspirational” pillow design with a lewd message and accidentally stumbles into financial success.
Tricia and Sam have an alternately affectionate and uneasy relationship. They both struggle with self-confidence but believe they know very well what the other should be doing with their life.
Others walk in and out of Sam’s world, including potential love interests. But her true “person,” and the soul that breathes life into “Somebody Somewhere,” is Joel, played by Jeff Hiller.
In season 1, Sam and Joel connect as coworkers when Joel reminds Sam that they were in high school show choir together.
Sam was introduced to Joel’s world when he invited her to attend “choir practice” at his church, housed in a local mall. Joel received keys to the church for choir practice, which was just a cover for an open-mic, cabaret-type event.
Choir Practice, emceed by Fred, was a queer-friendly gathering place for former theater kids and other assorted outcasts.
Joel’s faith and deep connection to his religious community create a compelling story arc that runs parallel and, at times, intersects with the primary relationship of “Somebody Somewhere,” his friendship with Sam.
The show is not plot-driven, but instead mines themes that aren’t often explored in contemporary media, such as the joy and struggles of friendship after 40 and finding inclusive faith communities in small towns.
What “Somebody Somewhere” assumes, correctly, is that neither of those themes are as rare as we are often led to believe. Hiller has shared in interviews how, as a gay teenager, he found meaning in inclusive church communities, and even toyed with becoming a pastor.
As the show nears its conclusion, two points of tension remain unresolved. First, Holly’s life remains largely a mystery. Although the audience never meets the deceased sister, her absence is acutely felt as a dull pain in Sam’s storylines. Similarly, a rift between Joel and his church in the first season lingers in the background of his relationships, including with his boyfriend, Brad.
A recent episode dangled some hope that Joel and his original faith community can reconcile. Holly’s story appears intended to reside in the background of Sam and Tricia, their grief over her death driving many of their decisions.
Besides the bucolic B-roll shots of Manhattan, Kansas, the beauty of “Somebody Somewhere” lies in how it captures the tender, passing moments between friends. Its wholesomeness can make you forget how bawdy its humor is. Its familiarity can make you fondly remember the people who have made you who you are.
The show was honored with a Peabody Award in 2023 for its “combination of pathos and hilarity.” In the award announcement, the Peabody Board of Jurors described the series: “Supported by an ensemble cast of heartfelt characters who are as flawed as they are endearing, and grounded by Everett’s powerfully understated performance as Sam, Somebody Somewhere discovers moments of authentic tenderness in the painful absurdities of the human condition.”
The series finale of “Somebody Somewhere” airs on Sunday, December 8, on HBO and will stream on Max. It was created by Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen and heavily relies on storylines from the life of Bridget Everett (Sam), who grew up in Manhattan, Kansas, and lost a sister to cancer.
Senior Editor at Good Faith Media.
