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It’s pilot season at Amazon Prime. I think that’s like sorority rush but for TV shows. If Kevin Can Wait had come up on my rush card, I would have written “HELL NO!”
At the behest of Amy Schumer and Sarah Jessica Parker, I watched Bridget Everett’s pilot, Love You More.
Love You More is the story of NYC resident, Karen Best, a single gal about town and caregiver at a brownstone residence for young adults with Down Syndrome. In the the opening scene, Karen is on the hunt, sitting in her local bar in low cut lamé, when last call rolls around. With a smile on her face, she walks up to one of the few remaining options and says, “So…you like big girls?”
Karen has confidence, and she has to make a move because you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. Karen might be big and horny, but she ain’t big and desperate, so when the guy asks if she likes it German-style, she pulls a hard pass and instead finds a guy that is more Kevin Hart than Idris Elba in terms of stature. Lucky for Karen, big dicks come in small packages named Bernard. We call that the “ankle strap.” As Karen says, “It’s coming up through my throat!”
Love You More is such a refreshing show in a stank-ass world right now. I keep thinking about Patton Oswalt and his wife, Michelle McNamara, who passed away in the spring of 2016. “It’s chaos,” Michelle would say to Patton. “Be kind.” What a wonderful rule for living. This show is the embodiment of that.
The kids that Karen cares for are fully realized with quirks, secrets, and personalities. They aren’t played for sympathy; they are an interesting cast of human beings with agency. One of the girls named Ruth keeps saying to Karen again and again, “I love you,” to which Karen always replies, “I love you more.”
Speaking of the cast…THIS SHOW HAS LONI ANDERSON! Loni plays Karen’s roommate, Jean, a widow who is kinda abusing her pied-a-tere situation. On her day off, Karen begrudgingly goes to lunch and bra shopping with Jean. The nightmare of finding a bra when you’re a 46EE living in a 36D world could make you commit retail homicide, but Everett—a karaoke and cabaret queen in real life—uses her upset to empower all women with a musical interlude, singing an ode to every type of titty out there. Tater tot titties? Put ’em in the air. Tube sock titties? Beaver tail titties? (ME!) Put ’em in the air. Hoobastank titties? Rubber ducky titties? Laffy Taffy titties? Put ’em up, put ’em up, put ’em up!
When so much comedy has an undercurrent of malice, this show is sweet without losing its ability to be real and remind us that “we all have stuff inside of us that we are afraid of letting out.”
The best scene of the pilot is when Karen is talking to her new resident, Andy, who breaks house rules by motorboating Karen and grabbing one of those tube sock titties. When she asks why he grabbed her breast, ha says he can’t tell her. Karen treats him as she would any other person afraid of being vulnerable, by earnestly listening. The boy comes out to her. “I’m gay.” “And you though we weren’t going to get along,” Karen tells him with a wink. She winks, and I’m crying.
The best part of any woman’s day? Taking the bra off.
In a country that treats big girls with disdain and mentally challenged people with derision and, oftentimes, banishment, Karen could be angry and exhausted. Worse, she could be cynical, but she’s not. This Karen? She always shows empathy for the people around her. She’s a woman in control of her sexuality, her chardonnay, and her emotions that impact other people. Karen knows it’s better to be kind, because she knows it’s chaos.
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