FX Productions
Welcome back, You’re the Worst. I’ve grown tired of keeping respectable company since your Season 1 departure.
You’re the Worst centers around Jimmy and Gretchen, both relationship-phobic and self-absorbed, as they attempt the inevitable death march and destruction that is a relationship. Their squad includes ‘former’ slut, Fat Lindsay, and former soldier/heroin user with PTSD, Edgar. Not without it’s flaws, part of my love for this show is that LA is a character in all it’s excessive, sun-bleached glory – juice cleanses, obscure taco stands, retro diners, botox pterodactyls, views of the Hollywood Reservoir, gratuitous fro-yo samples, and god help us all, Sunday Funday – bitches and brunches. The worst. In this anti-rom-com, you don’t need to endure the will they or won’t they, because, oh, they have, several times over. They’re just going to resist every second as they move forward with the dreadful, sure to be disastrous relationship. And I for one, can’t help but watch. Season 2 finds them unexpectedly and prematurely cohabitating while fighting their inescapable mutation into ‘disgusting normals.' Be warned, this Stephen Falk creation is nineteen types of trouble, full of sex, drugs, and profanity. Immature and obscene? Count me in. I’ve already learned one of life’s great lessons from Jimmy stupid three names, always leave the party with a bottle. And when throwing back your rightfully pilfered spirits, either use Jimmy’s standard toast, ‘God Save the Queen,’ or, my preference, Gretchen’s more colorfully succinct, ‘Eat shit, haters!’