This is the best show I have watched in years, and it will also be the best show you have watched in years if you do yourself a favor and well, watch it.
From the first minutes of the first episode, the excellency of its lines got me:
“If we meet in our dreams, let’s goof around and pretend we don’t know each other.”
Come on.
“If I don’t get silence, I’ll start punching dicks.”
COME ON!
Does it get any better than that? Yes. It does.
But how can I start to explain how good this show is, and most importantly, what it is about?
It is a series about football (soccer) for people who like and do not like football (soccer) alike. It is a comedy show relying on the culture shock between Americans and the British. It is the story of a woman who wants to take revenge on her cheating ex-husband by destroying the only thing he ever cared about: his football club. It is about a bunch of magnificent losers.
Except it is not. It is something entirely different.
What starts as a very cleverly written comedy show soon reveals itself as a dramedy with masterfully developed characters and subtle plot depth.
Slowly, episode after episode, it unfolds. Masks come off. The seemingly unshakable confidence of some characters crumbles while the shy and quiet ones become more assured. We learn to not get fooled by the façade and get acquainted with the failures and doubts of the AFC Richmond team and staff, and the galaxy of people surrounding them. We came for the laughs. We stay for the complexity of human relationships and self-doubt the screenwriters of Ted Lasso depict so astutely.
Every character is broken, damaged, and beating themselves up for different reasons. Even the ever-so-optimistic, wealth of positive wisdom and daily rainbow provider Ted Lasso. I cannot help but think: how much of his own collapsing marriage and consequent separation from his children did Jason Sudeikis put into the character he co-created and played? I cannot help but think: that he has to know in his body and mind what a panic attack feels like to live it so accurately. How it starts with a shake of the hands. How you feel you are not able to breathe anymore. How everything becomes numb and you are in a haze, far remote from whoever is next to you, while the sound of others is also too much of a stimulus for your overly reactive nerves. The first time I watched the episode in which Ted has a panic attack, I wondered: how does he know this is what happens to me every time I have one myself? Not only has Ted panic attacks but after denying that they are a problem – like me –, he decides to face them, accept they are part of who he is, and then proceed to tame them.
And then it hit me.
The series is about giving yourself some grace and embracing who you are and what you want, rather than trying to be perfect and fit in, at all times and at all costs.
It is a series about having the courage to take your place in the world and understanding that you are not taking anyone else’s place by doing so and that no one will come and take yours.
It is a series about redemption.
It is a series about healing and coming to terms with your own insecurities, by letting other people in, and confiding in them, so you can have confidence in yourself and what you can achieve. Deep down, we are all capable of moving mountains, together.
Oh, and it is a series about organizational culture and how to build high-performing teams, as Trent Crimm makes crystal clear in a very entertaining epiphany scene in season three.
But mainly, it is a series about healing, really. About the characters’ healing. And yours, if you need some healing too (do not we all?).
A few months ago, I recommended this series to someone who stormed back into my life and brought a whirlwind of emotions with him. “You’re going to love it, it is so brilliant”. In my enthusiasm, I did not realize that maybe, the personal and familial storyline of Ted, the title character, would hit too close to home for him.
At the risk of repeating myself, I am convinced that, ultimately, this is a show about healing. I am glad I suggested he watched it, and that he followed my advice and devored the three seasons, even if he admitted he struggled with some scenes between Ted and his son. I am glad my recommending the series helped him come to terms with his own turmoil and emotional wounds, at least in some ways. But I am not sure I did not do me a disfavor at the same time.
I wished I were Rebecca’s green matchbox box's mysterious man to him. But it turns out I was the sassy Smurf to his Ted (if you know, you know, otherwise, it’s cryptic enough I don’t need to yell “spoiler alert”). Equally important in one’s personal healing journey but damn, how I wish I played the part of the person that is meant to stay, not the one that was meant to go away.
Or maybe he was the-fine-date-nothing-wrong-with-that to my Rebecca. But to quote Roy Kent (my favorite character by far):
“He’s fine. That’s it. Nothing wrong with that, most people are fine. It’s not about him, it’s about why the f*** you think he deserves you. You deserve someone who makes you feel like you’ve been struck by f***ing lightning. Don’t you dare settle for fine.”
As I said, it is a series about healing (in case you did not get it by now). Healing is about reframing the narrative. And believing in yourself. In your worth. In what you bring to the table. Professionally and personally.