And That's Just That

And just like that…it’s almost over. I’ve been critical of the queering of “And Just Like That…?” since the revival series started. On paper, it would seem like a perfect scenario for LGBTQ+ representations. I mean, I like Cynthia Nixon. And I like Sara Ramirez. I like them both – a lot. But, to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure they work as a couple, chemistry-wise. The show has pushed the Awkward Miranda v. Cool Che dichotomy so hard they feel trapped in their respective bubbles. Like, heck, even the production photos have them trapped on their respective sides. (Like, for real, what’s up with that framing?)

Truly, Che and Miranda seem unable to connect apart from all the life-changing finger banging. Instead their interactions too often feel like a remedial “Taste the Rainbow” lessons. Like Awkward Miranda is the proxy for walking the audience through the LGBTQ+ basics or something. You see, viewers, some people have open relationships and some people are non-binary. Say it with us, “Non-bi-nar-y.”

Granted, as I’ve said before, it’s certainly welcome to tell a late-in-life coming out story. But the possibility of Miranda being gay was already explored and roundly rejected on SATC. Yes, obviously, people can change. But here Miranda’s sexual renaissance seems more a product of middle-aged boredom than personal introspection. I realize that may not be their intent, but the execution feels like malaise instead of discovery. Perhaps they’ll get better at addressing sexual fluidity in later life - they have one episode left - so we can only hope. And at least they’re trying to address gender fluidity, expression and identity given the Rock storyline and Che’s presence.

I guess, maybe what annoys me most is how they’ve taken a very capable character in Miranda and made her a nearly useless mess all for the service of someone who is supposed to be totally irresistible (which – I get it, it’s Sara Ramirez). But then they’ve given the “irresistible” character a charisma vortex. I mean, yeah, they’re hip and have an excellent alternative lifestyle haircut. But their comedy is, uh — how do I put this politely? Their comedy mostly sounds like an overly long Medium essays. They don’t actually have, uh, jokes. Also, stop calling it a comedy concert!

Honestly, maybe that’s my biggest beef. That for some big-time comedian, Che is not actually all that funny. But then again, this is a show that had us believe a single freelance columnist could afford a brownstone on the Upper East Side and a closet full of Manolo Blahniks and Jimmy Choos. So there’s that.