At Netflix, the streaming giant synonymous with innovation, the trend of releasing entire seasons of television where essentially nothing occurs is becoming an intriguing form of artistry. While other platforms may attempt similar feats, none are executing it quite like the Tudum factory. Who else would dare to produce multiple seasons of Emily in Paris, which consistently culminates in the same scenario—Emily caught at a romantic and professional crossroads, bien sûr? Or the audacity to launch a new season of a reality real estate franchise where not a single house is sold? This boldness has now permeated into their latest series, Nobody Wants This, which returned for a second season on Thursday, and while it may be disappointing, it’s hardly shocking.
Nobody Wants This stands as a remarkable achievement in the realm of nothingness, with essentially zero significant events transpiring over its ten episodes. The first season chronicled the unexpected romance between a rabbi, Noah (played by Adam Brody), and a secular Los Angeles woman, Joanne (portrayed by Kristen Bell). It emerged as a surprise hit for Netflix last fall, dominating the platform’s most-watched list for several weeks. The star power of Brody and Bell, particularly appealing to millennials who have followed their careers since iconic teen dramas like The O.C. and Veronica Mars, proved to be a significant draw.
At the conclusion of Season 1, viewers witnessed Noah and Joanne grappling with the pivotal question of whether Joanne would convert to Judaism. This created tension that almost led to their breakup, yet they ultimately reunited with a dramatic kiss, leaving the decision hanging for Season 2. Unfortunately, Season 2 picks up right where the last one left off, with the couple still at an impasse regarding the conversion issue, and the season largely revolves around this stagnation.
The final episode of this season, remarkably, echoes the first season's finale, with the couple once again almost breaking up over the same religious dilemma but ending up together without any resolution. How many times can this cycle continue? While I find myself annoyed by its cinematic ambitions, another recent romantic series, The Summer I Turned Pretty on Amazon Prime, could serve as a valuable example. There’s undoubtedly a limit to how long a show with such a premise can sustain itself—why not aim for a more concise narrative arc of three or four seasons, each genuinely advancing the story?
Continuing this drawn-out will-they-or-won’t-they scenario between a girl and her faith is proving to be more irritating than engaging. This is particularly surprising for a show centered around Judaism, which has a curious relationship with its own religious themes. The first season faced fair criticism for portraying Jewish women as overbearing and closed-minded. Season 2 makes an attempt to soften these characters, particularly Noah's mother and sister-in-law, which is a step in the right direction, but it leaves even fewer plot developments to distribute across the ten episodes.
While I’m not advocating for a return to casual antisemitism to create conflict, the thought has crossed my mind. What truly astonishes me is how often Nobody Wants This seems to overlook its core premise: it’s supposed to be about a rabbi. The show rarely explores what that designation entails. This disconnect makes sense on a biographical level, as the show is loosely based on the real-life experience of creator Erin Foster, who was a gentile when she fell for the Jewish man she ultimately converted for. However, it’s crucial to note that her husband was not a rabbi, and this distinction is significant.
Dramatization often requires raising the stakes, but there’s a vast difference between dating someone who is Jewish and engaging with a man whose life is organized around his faith. Unfortunately, the show fails to convincingly address this aspect, leaving viewers questioning its authenticity.
If the portrayal of religion is lacking, at least it prompts me to ponder deeper philosophical questions. Does the emptiness of this narrative matter, or does it simply serve as an excellent backdrop for phone-scrolling sessions? As we await Season 3, these questions linger, inviting viewers to reflect on the nature of storytelling in today's streaming landscape.
