Netflix’s “Grace and Frankie” is a ’90s sitcom through and through. Yes, I realize that it is 2015 and this show is airing on Netflix, not that weird TV-box-thing your mom leaves on so the dog doesn’t feel lonely. But underneath its glossy HD picture, top-tier acting talent and the general prestige of a Netflix Show, “Grace and Frankie” looks a lot like the shows your parents might have watched in 1995. Series creators Marta Kauffman (“Friends”) and Howard J. Morris (“Home Improvement”) bring the comedic expertise they honed during the golden age of silly sitcoms to “Grace and Frankie.” The premise is well worn — a couple wacky characters learn to put aside their differences and learn to live and love together. But the titular ladies aren’t just any odd couple. In the series’ first episode, Grace and Frankie’s husbands sit them down to tell them they have both been having affairs for the past two decades — affairs with each other.
“Grace and Frankie”
B
Season 1
Netflix
Grace (Jane Fonda, “This is Where I Leave You”) moves into the beach house the two families shared, but she encounters an unwelcome houseguest. Frankie (Lily Tomlin, “I Heart Huckabees”), the other jilted wife, has as much a claim to this house as Grace does. She keeps weed in the refrigerator, teaches art to convicts and follows Grace around like a puppy who just wants friendship or someone to do peyote with. They have kept a cordial distance from one another for as long as their husbands have been law partners, but their situation makes it impossible to avoid each other any longer. There is only one other person in the world who understands how fucking absurd it is for a husband to leave, dissolving the seemingly perfect family they spent 40 years building together. And she also wants to live in the beach house. Watching the two wear down their harsh edges and slowly become friends is the most rewarding part of the series. “Grace and Frankie” would be nothing without Grace and Frankie.
But where Grace and Frankie end, the show struggles to integrate some of its supporting characters. Robert (Martin Sheen, “The West Wing”) and Sol (Sam Waterston, “The Newsroom”) make a cute couple at first glimpse, but as the series progresses, they verge on intolerable. Like one of the wives mentions, it’s impossible to hate these men. They didn’t just cheat — they fell in love, hid it for 20 years and finally decided to come out in their twilight years. But it’s kind of hard to sympathize with these two when they’re actually terrible. Robert, in particular, is just the worst. He is actively selfish, nagging Sol to stop contacting or caring about his wife of 40 years and the mother of his children, inviting a homophobic lawyer friend to his bachelor party and whining about writing his wedding vows. Grace and Frankie get much more screen time, and for every minute the show spends with them instead of the husbands, the men’s point of view becomes increasingly irrelevant.
Robert and Sol’s scenes also tend to be more treacly and dramatic than Grace and Frankie’s, which results in some unpleasant tonal whiplash. Fonda and Tomlin use the palpable closeness from their years of friendship to color their banter. But Sheen and Waterston aren’t known for their comedic prowess, so their scenes are written to show off their flair for drama. The “drama” usually takes the form of new-couple fights, which usually paint Robert as the bad guy and make him more unlikeable with each successive argument.
This tonal inconsistency isn’t just limited to specific characters. Emotionally complex scenes are handled with varying degrees of success. In one episode, Frankie gets high and goes for frozen yogurt with Grace. Pure sitcom gold — until Grace slips, falls and lands in the hospital. The rest of the episode explores the frailty of old age and how she can’t continue being so distant from everyone in her life when she needs physical and emotional support. But for every heavy-handed metaphor there’s a moment of genuine vulnerability, like one scene in the first episode, when Grace takes out her hair extensions and false eyelashes and stares at her face in the mirror. That simple moment is a profound display of vulnerability for a woman whose entire self-concept is built upon looking youthful, made-up and beautiful. When “Grace and Frankie” gets quiet and stops saying exactly what its characters are feeling, the show can be truly beautiful.
“Grace and Frankie” is prime binge-watching material, its flaws blending into an enjoyable vanilla if you don’t think too hard about the inconsistencies in a single episode. By the show’s end, it’s hard to remember what Robert and Sol argued about in Episode 7, but impossible to forget the sight of Jane Fonda with electric blue hair extensions. You remember the funniest jokes and the layout of Grace and Frankie’s beach house and the hijinks that built their friendship. Just like any classic sitcom of the ’90s and beyond, the appeal of the show is all about the laughs — and the lovable characters who are making you laugh.