HBO’s 'Youth' Is Here to Remind Us That Aging Sucks, but at Least Sharon Horgan Is Making It Funny

The other day I wrote that the average age of acting winners at this year’s Emmys was 64, illustrating that television has firmly become a medium for older folks. That’s not a complaint — I appreciate that the average TV viewer (and Pajiba reader) seems to be aging right along with me.

Many of us are squarely in the target demo for Youth, a brilliant new HBO comedy from Sharon Horgan that does for midlife what Catastrophe did for relationships. Isn’t it nice that actors — even women! — aren’t put out to pasture in their 50s anymore? They’re getting prestige HBO comedies instead!

Good ones, too. Horgan plays Alex, and in the opening scene of Youth, she drops her phone directly onto her face while scrolling — a moment that hit embarrassingly close to home. But Alex is fighting a different battle: She’s a 50-year-old divorcee convinced she only has ten years left — not of her sexual prime, but of a sex life, period. She’s ready to seize the day, not out of youthful vigor, but because her days are literally numbered. Then, during a pitch meeting — she’s a book agent — with Damian Lewis about a godawful pitch, Alex’s jaw locks up. Her doctor diagnoses her with jaw arthritis. So much for blowjobs.

Her son, Ruairí (Aran Murphy), has just left for college, which should leave her free to pursue her renewed romantic interests. Instead, he drops out and returns home within days for reasons he refuses to explain. Meanwhile, she slips back into a situationship with Patrick (Rupert Friend), a man she has explosive chemistry with, aside from the fact that he’s 47 and has no concept of responsibility. Not that her 67-year-old date is any better; Alex agrees to go back to his place, only to bail because she’s petrified by how low his testicles hang. On top of it all, Alex is managing aging parents, including a father with “Joe Biden Alzheimer’s” — meaning he can run the world, he just can’t tie his shoes.

It’s that kind of show: a sharp, comedic mirror to the post-menopausal storyline Amanda Peet is navigating on Your Friends & Neighbors, but with more bite. Horgan examines midlife with the razor-sharp wit she brings to all her work. The best news? If she wins an Emmy next year (and she absolutely should be in the running), she’ll still single-handedly drag down the average age of the winners.