‘Somebody Somewhere’ Celebrates Getting Out of Your Own Way

By Kaleena Rivera | TV | June 30, 2023 |

By Kaleena Rivera | TV | June 30, 2023 |

(some spoilers for season 2 ahead)

During the second season premiere of Somebody Somewhere, best friends Sam and Joel (Bridget Everett and Jeff Hiller, respectively) rapturously dance in her living room to musical duo Chloe x Halle’s “Ungodly Hour.” Though the song, which possesses a surface-level romantic intention that’s easily adapted for platonic scenarios, isn’t revisited again after the credits roll, it’s hard to believe that the lyrics didn’t strike a chord with co-creators Hannah Bos and Paul Thureen as an anthem for family of both the biological and found variety: “When you decide you like yourself (Holler at me) / When you decide you need someone (Call up on me) / When you don’t have to think about it / Love me at the ungodly hour.”

Coming on the heels of an almost-universally praised first season, season 2 continues the established motifs of love and community-building. Whereas the previous season dealt with grief and the struggle for a sense of belonging, this season explores the turmoil that can be induced when one tries too hard to prevent that newfound community from evolving. The approaching nuptials of Sam and Joel’s dear friend, Fred (famed drag king Murray Hill) brings everyone together and then some, much to Sam’s irritation (Sam: “NNP, Joel!” Joel: “What’s NNP?” Sam: “No new people!”).

After coming to terms with her new life in Kansas, Sam’s upward trajectory continues. She’s finally fully living in Holly’s house—as opposed to functioning as a timid guest in her deceased sister’s home—enjoying late night laughs and “teeny ‘tinis” with Joel while he occupies the couch in an attempt to make a few bucks as an Airbnb host. Of course, life is far from perfect: Mary Jo’s (Jane Brody) health, already compromised by her alcoholism (not to mention her terrible temperament), has been further complicated due to a stroke. With her father, Ed (played by actor Mike Hagerty until the actor’s unfortunate death last year, a loss that is keenly felt throughout this season), away on a badly needed vacation, Sam and sister Tricia (Mary Catherine Garrison) have to juggle the farm in addition to their mother’s long term patient care.

Despite Sam’s very real issues, some of her problems are of her own making. Everett, so authentic here that it’s hard to believe she and her costars are putting on a performance, makes Sam so vulnerable and so damn likable that the frustration her loved ones (and the audience) feel watching her withdraw from everyone originates not from dislike but deep fondness. Letting things go is one of her greatest difficulties, whether it’s Holly’s barely functioning 25-year-old truck or the emotional sting from a comment that was never intended to hurt.

Still, it’s hard not to want to shake her by the shoulders as she pushes away her sister and best friend (Tricia: “When you get mad, when you feel like someone’s made a tiny mistake, you cut them out”). It’s especially tough to watch her cut off Joel so brutally, who’s only crime is not being swift enough to divulge his budding relationship with Brad, played by Tim Bagley, who’s impossibly winning as the slightly nerdy but self-assured churchgoer/aspiring vocalist (don’t be fooled by all the plaid button ups and pleated pants, their chemistry is the stuff of rom-com dreams).

But Sam’s reaction evokes sympathy for her as well, thanks to how deftly the writing establishes her personal experiences. Between Holly’s death, a youthful encounter with a well-meaning voice instructor, Darlene (Barbara E. Robertson), who once said the wrong thing, and the discomfort she feels as someone who’s never been in love—an admission wrenched out in a particularly vulnerable moment—only motivates her to seclude herself even further. Neither her insecurity surrounding her art nor her romantic status is bad in and of themselves (in fact, let’s normalize not experiencing romantic love in much the same way we readily accept someone who’s never rock climbed), but the decisions Sam makes in the wake of her emotional triggers hurts others but none more so than herself; leaving people on ‘read’ might feel empowering but when you’re the only one not on the purple bachelor party bus, personal pride is of little comfort.

The grand tradition of death placing life’s woes into perspective plays out here in ways that are both expected and utterly surprising; the mournful yet shocking intimacy of Everett singing “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” to no one whatsoever moved me to tears. Happily, it’s not only death that gives cause for reevaluation, i.e. her sensitivity and quickness to judge is the reason why her nearest and dearest may not be so forthcoming at times, but a growing awareness that she also has a measure of responsibility for her reactions. Much like how Sam discovers her musical voice, she’s also brought to the realization that her life is filled with love, even if vocalizing as much (or simply hearing the words “I love you” directed at her) is still a bit overwhelming. It’s progress, however, because love is first and foremost an action, and seeing her big apology—Hiller’s tenderness in this scene is heart-rending—is a deeply promising start.

There’s beauty in joy and celebration—what more can you want when the big wedding day is finally here?—but without the former, it’s damn near impossible to fully experience the latter. Although it’s technically made possible due to her innate talent and zeal, when Sam launches into her big number, we know it’s truly made possible thanks to her growing ability to take risks, even if that simply means extending grace towards others and yourself.

The series wisely refrains from making Sam a new person overnight—she’s still ever-so slightly annoyed when Brad takes part in “Pound or Pass”—yet it’s still one of the more satisfying character arcs in recent memory (The Bear being its sole competitor). Even after her triumphant moment, late in the evening when the dancing has ceased and the music is low, Sam maintains a wistfulness as she watches her friends in love. Rather than react in the moment, however, she chooses to sit with her own feelings, sending Joel off to hang out with Brad instead. Change is inevitable, and while accepting it may mean that your loved ones move on, it also creates an opportunity to let more people in. That may well be the best change of them all.

Both seasons of Somebody Somewhere are available on Max.

Kaleena Rivera is the TV Editor for Pajiba. When she isn’t debating which of Tricia’s c-word pillows is her favorite (it may have to be “live, laugh, c*nt”), she can be found on Twitter here.