‘Uncoupled’ Offers a Sideways Glimpse Into Gay Middle Age

Until now, I thought Harris’ brand was a sort of nebbish anti-hunk, but apparently, according to a recent New York Times profile, during an interview, he called his “good looks a crutch and then corrected himself: ‘a weird albatross.’” So what do I know!

The profile also states that Harris was specifically cast in Uncoupled for his moderate appeal: “They wanted him for his talent and his looks but also for his popularity, which they hoped would keep the comedy from feeling overly niche. (Is there still anxiety about the appeal of a gay romantic comedy in a post Fire Island and Love, Simon world? Apparently there is.)” This much would have been obvious without such explicit signaling. Newly single Michael is just as naive to the gay world as any straight person in Middle America of a certain generation would be, and as such can function as a hetero avatar. He is, in this respect, very much like Looking’s perpetually wide-eyed Patrick. Foreskin sent Patrick into a tizzy; a big dick does it for Michael. As if he couldn’t be more explicitly a tight-ass, he also dumps a guy for farting in front of him.

That particular scene is one example of the show going for wisdom but landing in absurdity—Michael reasons, “Once you fart around each other you can see the end of the relationship around the corner.” To work as a joke, there should be a kernel of truth there, but what we’re being actually treated to is someone who appears to not just be new to gay culture, but humanity in general. When Michael whines about PrEP leading to condom abandonment (“You can forget about barebacking. I can’t get turned on when all I can see is my name on that quilt.”), he’s upholding a condom code that was about as useful to public health as abstinence-only education. At that point, I wondered why we were even still listening to what this guy had to say.

It’s camp camp, layers of the synthetic that are at such a remove not just from reality, but also any kind of humorous distortion of it, that it amounts to a patchwork of bad creative choices.

The over-articulating of culture is rampant on Uncoupled. Michael’s realtor co-worker Suzanne (Tisha Campbell) at one point explains, “It’s cool to be sexually fluid right now.” So I hear! To be fair, I realize that these kinds of cultural bridges from the queer to straight worlds are necessary, especially given the contentious political climate. As much as I appreciate something like The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story’s steadfastness in its gayness and refusal to over-explain certain elements of the culture to straight audiences, I realize that something more basic can be useful. The problem is that there isn’t much good observation in Uncoupled. The bridges are, actually, to nowhere. Early on, Michael and his friends talk about dating as gay men in their 40s, with TV weatherman Billy (Emerson Brooks), yet another character who receives compliments about his devastatingly good looks with such frequency as to be propaganda, saying that he feels like it just gets better and better, as the well of younger guys looking for older partners is ever-replenishing. Their art-dealer friend, Stanley (Brooks Ashmanskas), notes that Billy just feels this way because he’s on TV. The truth is, Stanley suggests, much lonelier. But then Uncoupled undermines its own observation with an unending stream of guys throwing themselves at Michael. He has no time to be lonely when he’s never alone. The show can’t even be bothered to sit in discomfort for more than a few seconds at a time.

Perhaps this is what is so intoxicating about Uncoupled—it moves at such a fast clip that it doesn’t even matter what’s happening as long as it keeps happening. The character of Claire, played by Marcia Gay Harden, is a great example of something that just keeps happening. Claire is a wealthy recent divorcee who enlists real estate agent Michael’s help in selling her apartment. She whines about her fears, but there she is, episode after episode, getting what she wants and having a great time. Harden plays her with the subtlety of a crudely drawn rich-lady cartoon character. She speaks like she’s imitating the kind of over-enunciated imitation of wealth you’d see in ‘80s Grey Poupon commercials (“Downtown is for restaurants—not for living!” she trills). It’s camp camp, layers of the synthetic that are at such a remove not just from reality, but also any kind of humorous distortion of it, that it amounts to a patchwork of bad creative choices.

So goes the highly consumable, packed-with-empty-calories Uncoupled. It’s a show that aims to both teach and send up, but in its jumble of reality and fantasy manages to be neither here nor there.

Correction: A previous version of this post listed And Just Like That as one of Darren Star’s shows. He created Sex and the City, but did not participate in the making of its reboot.