Sometimes, having any connection to your ex(es) can feel like a curse. In Laid—a Nahnatchka Khan and Sally Bradford McKenna adaptation of the Kirsty Fisher/Marieke Hardy Australian series of the same name—that feeling becomes literalized. That’s because the former sexual partners of Ruby (Stephanie Hsu) are dying, in the order they slept with her, with increasing regularity. Some of their deaths are sad but expected (cancer), while others are shocking and bloody (an accidental gunshot). Regardless of the cause, though, they all seem marked for death.
To solve the puzzle of why, Ruby enlists her best friend/roommate, the true crime-loving AJ (Zosia Mamet). Or rather, AJ nominates herself and insists on solving the case. The duo receives assistance from Richie (Michael Angarano), the one of Ruby’s exes who immediately buys the death curse and lasts long enough to join up. The group hides their actions from AJ’s on-again/off-again fiancé Zack (Andre Hyland), a streamer who expresses love almost entirely through gifts of stuffed animals.
The already lousy situation is made worse by Ruby developing a crush on her current client Isaac (Tommy Martinez), a handsome, sensitive client planning his parents’ huge anniversary party blowout. Besides having a beautiful bikini-wearing marine biologist girlfriend, Ruby knows she is dangerous, even if she has no idea exactly how or why.
Hsu proves yet again to be a tremendously winning lead. Despite the scripts creating a fairly checkered past and somewhat problematic present for Ruby, Hsu has a fundamental appeal that keeps the character from becoming totally unappealing. That said, the show itself seems to overestimate both Ruby’s terribleness and her promiscuity. She’s 33 and has slept with less than 20 people, hardly a shocking amount. Yes, she’s done some selfish or dumb things in her life, particularly her romantic life. But, with perhaps one or two exceptions, none seem especially unusual for a young adult finding their way as they move from high school to college and finally into their post-college/career years.
It’s never clear where Laid stands on Ruby. Do they agree with the characters who dress her down and side-eye her body count? Are they holding those people up as overly judgmental figures to be mocked and dismissed? That lack of clarity is disappointing for an otherwise fairly tightly plotted series.
Compare Ruby to, say, High Fidelity’s Rob Gordon. There’s no doubt which person is a shittier ex. Both the book and film adaptation are clear on that position while simultaneously treating Rob with a more even-handed empathy. I’m not opposed to a lousy person finding redemption over the course of eight episodes. The show just never convinces me Ruby is, indeed, rotten.
This ill-defined moral valiance aside, Laid offers a lot of reasons to tune in. The show has an agreeable pace that keeps the story moving but never at the cost of character relationships. Mamet has great best friend chemistry with Hsu and an askew bouncy energy. Mamet modulates that energy well as the mystery of her friend’s curse grows darker and more unpleasant while remaining a strange light on the show. Conversely, Angarano evolves the initially insufferably Richie into a figure of surprising depth and understanding. Some of the show’s best scenes are between her and Hsu lounging on uncomfortable furniture and trading strangely kind barbs in his bland apartment.
A mix of familiar fame-os (Simu Liu, Chloe Fineman) and comedy faves (Kate Berlant, John Early as a version of himself) populate much of the rest of the cast, playing exes, near-misses, and others caught up in their wake. Several of the exes, short-lived though they may be, are sketched out just enough that we recognize who they are and what “function” they served for Ruby. She’s frequently referred to as closed-off, as confirmed by Hsu’s performance. So the story lets us in through these others’ memories and reactions to her.
What really makes Laid stand out is how effectively it acts as a parable of life in your mid-30s. Characters repeatedly ask some form of “Wait, am I going to die?” They’re, of course, asking about it in relation to the so-called “sex/death cluster,” but the subtext is clear. This is the time of one’s life when many start feeling the march of time and thus seriously begin to consider their own mortality. Everyone is looking around themselves and seeing the ways they aren’t where they thought they’d be. They are in relationships, but not the storied ones of romantic films or real-life success stories of their elders. They have jobs, but not careers or careers but not satisfaction. Yes, the Grim Reaper is the headliner, but the more accurate fears are “Why don’t I have what I thought I would?” and “What if I never do?”.
It gives the raunch, solid pop culture gags, character beats, and shocking moments of gore a more substantial weight. There’s a bittersweet foundation to the high-concept comedy that progressively moves to the foreground with each episode. It never gets oppressively heavy, thankfully, but Laid isn’t insubstantial fluff thanks to these quietly lingering questions.
Where the season ends will likely divide viewers. There’s a double almost literally last-minute twist that denies episode 8 a clean wrap-up. As a result, a season 2 is all but demanded. Either twist would likely earn a great bass drum thump cut to black cliffhanger. Together, though, it registers as overkill.
However, tossing out a show based on a divisive final beat is a shame. Laid is too smart and fun for most of its runtime to not earn a look. Hopefully, it gets that season 2 and can return with a clearer idea of how it feels about its lead, whether she deserves that reputation, and how to land a cleaner season finale. Until then, it’s a flawed show that earns laughs and melancholy pangs.
Laid updates its body count on Peacock starting December 19.