Photo by Richard Shotwell Invision-AP-Shutterstock
Either you're already sucked into this multi-timeline emotional roller coaster or someone you know is tearfully telling you how much you're missing–there's really no in-between.
NBC's This Is Us takes viewers on a journey through the decades with love and drama stringing it all together.
While watching, it's easy to attempt to pinpoint which characters you most resemble. Over on Spiritual Twitter, the best way to do this is to guess and assign Zodiac signs to the characters, which makes watching the heart-wrenching drama a bit more fun.
Everyone can access their full birth chart, which lays out the positioning of the planets at the time of your birth. Think of it as a blueprint to your personality, past, present, and future. Your sun sign is your base nature, the personality you show to the world, no matter internal or external variances. Your moon sign indicates how you emote and how you process your emotions. If you're interested in knowing your own moon sign (and other planetary signs), you can download your birth chart and jump down that rabbit hole of information. (For the more advanced astro people, houses and degrees will not be considered here because seriously, who has that kind of time?).
Based on the show's canon, not only do we know characters' sun signs (the main astrological sign that most people know), but we can guess moon signs as well.
RIP to the man that made everyone, men and women alike, jealous of Rebecca Pearson. Like a Virgo, Jack is calculated, precise and makes things happen. His downfall, in true Virgo fashion, was his aim for perfection and his feeling of defeat when he fell short. We know "The Big Three" and their father's birthday is August 31, making all of them Virgos, but this doesn't necessarily mean they all have the same moon sign. For Jack, a Scorpio moon is fitting because of the passion that people with this sign are able to display. The other aspect of a Scorpio moon is that their hearts are very deep, open seas; while beautiful and majestic, there are depths they will never share and no one can ever begin to find.
Rebecca's birthday is never revealed, but we can assume she is an emotional Cancer. Rebecca Pearson lives in her feelings in almost every scene. She involves herself in her children's and grandchildren's (hey, Tess) lives even when she's not invited, but it's all done with the best of intentions. She is passionate and loyal, which makes her perfect for Jack, who desires someone who's going to be by his side no matter what. Because of her many emotional outbursts and occasional inability to hold back, Rebecca aligns with an Aries moon. With the typical "I have to be out front always" energy of Aries moon people, Rebecca shows off her fiery nature by being bold and courageous, whether standing up to her helicopter of a mother or going out for a new job. While intense and explosive in their feelings, Aries moons can also be insecure or overly aggressive and emotional without realizing it, which could definitely be said of Rebecca.
Along with his father and siblings, Kevin is a Virgo, but there's a strong argument for a Leo sun sign, and his moon sign could easily be Sagittarius. Sagittarius energy is never settled and always on the move. Kevin's Hollywood lifestyle takes him across the country in the blink of an eye, and that's exactly how these moons want it. The only tricky thing is getting them to sit in one place for a relationship. Unless you're looking to jet-set alongside Kev, it's going to be a bit difficult to build a solid connection. As we already know, Kevin struggles to keep a healthy relationship repeatedly on the show.
Kate has Pisces energy, but alas, she is a Virgo. For her moon, she seems like more of a fiery Leo woman. Leo moons tend to do anything to keep the attention on them and will react negatively when it isn't. Often creative, which speaks to Kate's singing talents, they dream of being center stage and enjoying that limelight. Leo moons are fun to be around and are always ready to be out having a good time (because who wants to stay indoors when you look that good?). Kate also displays some of the negative traits surrounding this fire sign: She can be extremely dramatic, overly sensitive, petty, and emotionally demanding.
Now, Randall Pearson is easily the most Virgo of his siblings with his perfectionism and organized ways. However, with a Capricorn moon, his Virgo sun is practically in hyper-drive. The double Earth sign man can do absolutely anything he puts his mind to. Very much a career-driven leader, he has a solid foundation of family, friends, and loved ones. While Capricorn moons are the sort of people that you want to go into business with, these moons are also prone to anxiety and depression from the amount of pressure they put on themselves. We see this for the first time in episode 15 of season 1 when Randall has a panic attack in his office at work. While they're loyal and dedicated partners, Capricorn moons can easily drive themselves insane trying to be perfect in everyone's eyes as well as their own (which is inherently impossible).
The human balance beam that is Beth Pearson never ends, and she just screams Libra woman. She's diplomatic and fair in her decision-making and makes an effort to ensure everyone in her household is happy and at peace. Whether that's by making sure all the girls get to their extracurriculars, helping Randall launch his many projects, starting a new career path, or making sure additional house guests feel at home, she does it all while keeping her own life and dreams alive. Whew! With this level of balance, only a Virgo moon would provide the superpowers to make it all happen. With planner in hand, Beth keeps it all together. However, similar to Cap moons, Virgos aim for perfection, which leads them to suppress negative emotions and deny personal dilemmas. Virgo moons will swallow their woes to make sure everyone else is okay before themselves, and they will only explode when they've had absolutely enough
Similar to Beth, Toby displays diplomatic and zen Libra vibes. He does what he can, but his Pisces moon makes him a little more emotional than Beth. With that strong Pisces intuition, Toby is great at noticing when his wife, Kate, is hiding her true feelings and can pick up on those emotions easily. He's also creative and dreamy-eyed about life at times, but we love this about the huge teddy bear (or buff bear) that is Toby. With this in mind, his emotions ebb and wane more than he'd like, so he keeps them balanced with prescription medication for his depression.
Don't miss new episodes of This Is Us every Tuesday at 9/8c on NBC.
Thanks to streaming platforms like Netflix and Hulu, it was suddenly possible to watch multiple episodes of a single TV series in one sitting without the interruptions of commercials. As the way we watched TV changed, so too did the kind of shows we watched. Gone was the overabundance of vapid, sugary-sweet sitcoms, and in came the era of political satire, dramatic comedies, and searing commentaries on everything from abortion to Hollywood. Summarily, the 2010s saw a golden age of television. Here are our 50 favorites, with the top 25 and bottom 25 listed in alphabetical order.
The Top 25 TV Shows of the 2010s
Atlanta
Atlanta first aired in 2016, with Donald Glover's Earn learning that his cousin Alfred has released a hit song under the stage name Paper Boi. Since then, the show has followed Earn's struggle to navigate different worlds as he takes over managing his cousin's burgeoning music career while also trying to be a good father to his daughter, Lottie, and to prove himself to Van, his ex-girlfriend and Lottie's mother. The show uses varying perspectives to flesh out the city of Atlanta and the complexities of being black in America with surreal touches that highlight the real-world absurdity. Yet despite the heaviness of much of its subject matter, it frequently manages to be among the funniest shows on TV.
Barry
For anyone who ever wondered whether or not SNL-alum Bill Hader could carry a serious TV show, Barry answers with an overwhelming "yes." To be clear, Barry is technically a dark comedy, or perhaps a crime comedy-drama, but Bill Hader brings a level of unprecedented seriousness to his titular character that oftentimes makes the show feel like a straight tragedy.
Playing a hitman who wants to leave his life of crime behind in order to pursue a career in acting, Bill Hader imbues Barry with an earnestness that makes us as an audience truly want him to succeed. This likability serves to make Barry's violent acts all the more disturbing. Barry's greatest success is its ability to effortlessly fluctuate between the quirks of life as a struggling actor in LA and the violent inclinations of a man who murders for a living and can never really escape that truth. It's one of the best character studies currently on TV and is sure to cement Bill Hader as an extremely versatile A-list talent.
Baskets
Baskets premiered on FX in 2016, telling the story of Chip Baskets, an aspiring clown played by Zach Galifianakis, who is moving back to Bakersfield, California to live with his mother after a failed stint at clown school in Paris. Galfianakis' talent for melancholy slapstick makes the show by turns hilarious and touching, but it's his mother Christine Baskets—artfully portrayed by Louie Anderson—whose simple enthusiasm for small-town life makes the show one of the best of the decade. Watching Christine, Chip, and his twin brother Dale (also Galifianakis) heighten relatable family drama to exquisite absurdity never gets old.
Black Mirror
Nothing would be the same without Black Mirror. Though its later seasons have been inconsistent in quality, its earliest contributions were digital horror at its finest, with some of the episodes being downright visionary in terms of how accurately they predicted the near future. From the nostalgic visions of virtual afterlife in "San Junipero" to the eerie foresight of "Nosedive" and its digital ranking systems, Black Mirror made an indelible impact.
Bob's Burgers
Whatever you've heard about Family Guy or South Park, Bob's Burgers is the true successor to the golden age of The Simpsons. The Belcher family offers an update to The Simpsons' satirical view on middle class family life that reflects how America has changed since the 90s—slightly more urban, with less overt child abuse and a lot more economic precarity. And just as with the best seasons of The Simpsons, Bob's Burgers maintains a touching core of familial love and solidarity amid the absurd hijinks and veiled political commentary. Throw in the added value of the frequently hilarious, occasionally moving musical numbers, and Bob's Burgers easily secures a spot as one of the best shows of the decade.
Bojack Horseman
In terms of the quality of its writing, BoJack Horseman outdid itself season after season. What began as a parody of Hollywood's excesses quickly turned into a searing, and boundary-pushing meditation on depression, addiction, and what it means to change (or to be unable to). Increasingly self-aware and conscious of its hypocritical tendency to obsess over the misadventures of an evil but sympathetic celebrity, thereby glorifying them while criticizing them, BoJack Horseman is the political, devastating, timely, often hilarious show about an animated horse that none of us knew we needed. It's buoyed by the strength of its secondary characters, from the workaholic Princess Carolyn to asexual Todd to self-loathing Diane, and altogether the show takes deep-rooted fears that many share and refracts them in a funhouse mirror that's impossible to look away from.
Broad City
Ilana Glazer and Abbi Jacobson began producing an independent web series about their struggles to "make it" in New York City in 2009. Soon, Amy Poehler took interest in the series, and it moved to Comedy Central in 2014. The smash hit comedy was not only laugh-out-loud funny, but a beautiful portrait of a genuinely healthy, supportive female friendship—something TV has historically seen little of. Broad City can be credited for helping to usher in a new generation of female comedy creators and has become a cultural touchstone for millenials.
Catastrophe
Catastrophe, created and written by the show's stars, Rob Delaney and Sharon Horgan, is one of the realest, grossest, and funniest takes on love and the mess of life. Two people entering middle age meet and hit it off, they spend a reckless night together, and when she gets pregnant, they decide to make things work—not realizing how complicated that will be. It's a simple enough premise, but the cutting dialogue and the absurd comedy that plays out as two near-strangers build a life together make Catastrophe one of a kind.
Fargo
Anthology series like True Detective and American Horror Story can be really hit or miss, but in the three seasons that have aired on FX since 2014, Fargo has been consistently great. Maybe it has to do with the leisurely production schedule, the all-star cast, or the near-perfect movie that forms the basis for its tone, but whatever the cause, Fargo delivers murderous midwestern tragicomedy better than any show on TV—and nearly as well as the original. Season three, which followed the rivalry of the Stussy brothers—as played by Ewan McGregor—deserves a particular call-out, with season four due next year and featuring Chris Rock, Timothy Olyphant, and Jason Schwartzman.
Fleabag
Phoebe Waller-Bridge's stage-play-turned-two-season-TV masterpiece took the world by storm at the end of the 2010s. In the series, the viewer is made into the protagonist's (an unnamed woman played by Bridge) confidante as she uses sex to cope with grief and complicated family dynamics. As the show progresses, the closely protected inner life of the protagonist begins to reveal itself. Many consider the second season to be an essentially perfect season of television, in large part because of the hot priest (played by Andrew Scott). Fleabag is a funny, searing commentary on what it means to exist as a sexual, complicated being in a world with ever-changing expectations of women.
Grace and Frankie
70 is the new 30, or 20, or whatever arbitrary year of life we as a culture are deciding to glorify for no reason, because age is just a number. If you weren't aware that Jane Fonda glowed with money or that Lily Tomlin is our collective spiritual mother, then Grace and Frankie enlightened you. When two septuagenarian women are told that their husbands are gay and in love with each other, the best phase of their lives begins.
Haikyu!!
It's almost 2020, the world is upside down, and yes, an anime about high school volleyball is genuinely one of the best shows of the decade. Haikyu!!, literally "Volleyball" in Japanese, is about the trials and tribulations of the Karasuno High School Boys Volleyball Team. Unlike pretty much every other high school sports anime out there, Haikyu!! takes a relatively realistic approach to...well...high schoolers playing sports. In doing so, Haikyu!! translates the genuine passion that goes into high school sports and the real dynamics of teamwork, better than any other show I've ever seen.
The protagonist, Hinata, isn't a superpowered Volleyball God; he's an extremely short boy who can't reach the top of the net, but works his butt off because he loves the game. Likewise, all the other boys in Haikyu!! have realistic strengths and weaknesses (both on and off the court) that they work to overcome with help from their teammates. Haikyu!! is an exercise in wholesomeness––there are no villains, just other kids at other schools who love the same sport our boys do––and in a decade full of so much bitterness, it's a much needed dose of medicine.
Hunter x Hunter
For anyone who likes long-running shonen anime, Hunter x Hunter is, without a doubt, the pinnacle of the genre. While the original manga began publication in 1998, and a previous anime adaptation ran from 1999-2001, the 2011 adaptation re-started the series from scratch and, most importantly, covered the Chimaera Ant arc (or season––kind of––for you non-anime watchers).
The entirety of Hunter x Hunter is fantastic, featuring likeable protagonists, dastardly villains, and a brilliantly creative power system called "Nen." But there's a reason the Chimaera Ant arc is often considered the greatest shonen arc ever, and that's because it's a total deconstruction of the genre's tropes and conventions. Everything from the "always optimistic protagonist" to "the ultimate evil villain" is turned completely inside-out. The Chimaera Ant arc is intensely brutal and ultimately poignant, making us question the very nature of what makes us human.
Killing Eve
Phoebe Waller-Bridge can do no wrong, and even if she could and did, I'd probably still clap. The combination of Waller-Bridge's cutting wit and Sandra Oh and Jodie Comer's flawless performances makes for a TV show that never quite lets you find your balance before sending you spinning again. It's dark and surreal, while managing to still be deeply human.
Marvelous Mrs. Maisel
Being a professional stand-up comedienne is hard, but being Midge Maisel is wrapping chaos in a designer dress. Created by the fast-talking husband and wife behind Gilmore Girls, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel created a stage for Rachel Brosnahan to showcase her comedic timing and Alex Borstein to be a solid, deadpan pillar within Mrs. Maisel's world of quippy, fast-talking, energy. Also Michael Zegen (Joel) is dead cute.
Mob Psycho 100
While One Punch Man might be manga artist One's best known series (and is fantastic in its own right), his other series, Mob Psycho 100,is profound in a way quite unlike anything else I've seen. The show revolves around Mob, an awkward, unconfident middle school boy with god-like psychic powers. Any other shonen anime would use this premise as a gateway to epic battles (and there are a few, and their animation is absolutely incredible), but Mob Psycho 100 focuses far more on the coming-of-age angle instead.
See, Mob doesn't like his psychic powers because they make him feel weird. So instead of focusing on the one thing he's innately talented at but doesn't like, Mob tries to improve himself in the ways he actually cares about improving––making friends, talking to girls, working out with his school's Body Improvement Club. If anything, Mob's incredible psychic powers are a backdrop for the show's larger message––that no person, no matter what natural abilities they may have, is better than anyone else. Mob Psycho 100 shows that everyone has their own struggles, and that the only person you should ever hold yourself up in comparison to is the person you were yesterday.
The OA
Brit Marling and Zal Batmanglij's labyrinthine show only ran for two seasons, but it managed to earn a cult following during that time. Deeply weird, profoundly earnest, and full to the brim with observations on the connections between the environment, parallel universes, and technology, the two seasons that we do have are irreplaceable and paradigm-shifting examples of what TV could become, if we let ourselves believe.
Orange Is the New Black
Piper Kerman's post-grad rebellious stage went from a felony to a cultural touchstone. As Netflix's most-watched original series, OITNB boasted a female-led cast and cutting commentary on race, class, and the industrial prison complex.
PEN15
Those who didn't have a gruelingly awkward middle school experience are, by scientific evidence, simply inhuman. Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle tell it best in Hulu original PEN15, which co-stars the real-life BFFs (who also wrote and executive produced together) as 13-year-olds. Here, there's no sugarcoating the calamities of tweenhood, whether they're as trivial as thongs and AIM messaging or as weighty as race identity. All delivered with Erskine and Konkle's razor-sharp wit, it's absolutely hysterical to anyone who's lived past the seventh grade.
Rick and Morty
"To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Rick and Morty. The humour is extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of theoretical physics most of the jokes will go over a typical viewer's head."
Okay, so first things first, we need to separate Rick and Morty from the Rick and Morty fandom. The Rick and Morty fandom is so annoying that memes making fun of them are barely distinguishable from the things they actually say. But, to be fair, Rick and Morty really is a great show full of smart writing, surprisingly deep characterization, and the exact kind of bizarre, abstract humor that lends itself perfectly to endless memes. No doubt, Rick and Morty will be the defining animated comedy of the 2010s.
Russian Doll
This tightly-wound and big-hearted thriller stars Natasha Lyonne as a jaded New Yorker who gets caught in a loop in time and has to relive the night of her 36th birthday party over and over again. A perfect blend of humor and seriousness, and riddled with quantum leaps and profound connections, it's as satisfying as it is provocative.
Shameless
We fell in love with the trainwreck family the Gallaghers when it debuted on Showtime in 2011. William H. Macy brought so much toxic charm to the abusive and neglectful father Frank Gallagher that we actually found him, if not likable, then good television. Emmy Rossum managed to cause tears and laughter within the same scene, and the entire cast was as impressive as their characters were appalling.
Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan)
After the first season of Attack on Titan premiered in 2013, it received so much hype that even people outside of the anime community were raving about it. The show featured an incredibly high-concept premise, following the last surviving humans as they tried to fight back against giant, man-eating monsters called Titans. Had Attack on Titan stuck to that premise, it would have been top-notch action-horror, albeit not necessarily one of the best shows of the decade.
But Attack on Titan turned out to be so much bigger than its initial premise. As the seasons progressed, Attack on Titan reshaped itself time and time again, leading viewers through an increasingly complex, expertly plotted narrative featuring some of the most compelling characters and intensely emotional moments that I've ever experienced in fiction. At its core, Attack on Titan is a deeply thematic contemplation on war, othering, and humanity's will to survive against impossible odds, alongside the moral sacrifices they oftentimes make to do so.
Shrill
It shouldn't be revolutionary for a show to feature a fat female lead, but it is. Shrill, the brilliant Hulu adaptation of Lindy West's memoir, Shrill: Notes from a Loud Woman, gave audiences a badly needed narrative about a woman who is actively seeking to change her life for the better, in ways that have nothing to do with her body. It's funny, it's heartfelt, and it shows a woman getting an abortion and finding it empowering. Woah. Hell yes.
Steven Universe
When Steven Universe first aired on Cartoon Network in 2013, it was a light-hearted and silly children's show with some super-powered action from the Crystal Gems and a lot of silly jokes from their sidekick—the childish titular character. Since then an entire galaxy has been fleshed out around the boardwalk of Beach City where much of the show takes place. Along with the alien gem creatures and their elaborate history, the show has introduced us to a cast of characters that have grown and changed—overcoming insecurities and facing complex questions of love and identity. While Steven matured and developed into a hero worthy of his last name, the show evolved to become one of the best of the decade.
THIS IS US cast members from left Milo Ventimiglia, Mandy Moore, Sterling K. Brown, Jon Huertas, Justin Hartley, Chrissy Metz and Susan Kelechi Watson
Photo by: Richard Shotwell/Invision/AP/Shutterstock
Family members don't like each other, Thanksgiving is a nightmare, and life is a fleeting state of being that we inevitably forget–even for America's favorite adoptive family, the Pearsons, on NBC's This Is Us.
Season 4's midseason finale, "So Long, Marianne," saw Randall Pearson (Sterling K. Brown) struggling to enjoy his favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, while the Big Three's estranged Uncle Nicky felt uncomfortable sharing a family holiday with the Pearsons, and Kate finds a message from another woman on her husband, Toby's, phone. In other words, they had a typical American Thanksgiving.
So far, season 4 has masterfully tackled the nuances and discomforts of interracial adoption (thanks to a diverse writing team with people of color taking the lead on racial issues), and the show defers to the real experiences of servicemembers and veterans who've suffered PTSD to depict Uncle Nicky (Griffin Dunne) and Cassidy Sharp's (Jennifer Morrision) respective traumas. Now This Is Us is producing one of TV's most humane and empathetic depictions of dementia–or so we hope.
At the center of the season's trifold dramas, Rebecca Pearson (Mandy Moore) is clearly experiencing symptoms of dementia. Thanksgiving Day finds Randall and Rebecca already in the midst of a disagreement over the seriousness of her forgetful "senior moments." Tension piques as Rebecca leaves the house, loses her phone, and becomes lost in Philadelphia while suffering memory lapses that necessitate the police escorting her home. Later, she shamefully confesses to Randall, "I was halfway through the trailer of Cats when I couldn't remember what movie I was going to see. I think I need to see a doctor."'
Shortly after the episode aired, Moore took to Instagram to post a screenshot of the poignant moment between mother and son: "Though he's been aching for her to admit it, hearing her say the words was absolutely devastating. And while the road ahead is unknown, she has the very best family by her side. #ThisIsUs"
But the exact cause of Rebecca's cognitive deterioration isn't clear. The show's executive producer, Isaac Aptaker, confirmed to Entertainment that they wanted to tell a "story about Alzheimer's or dementia." But, mirroring the drawn-out frustrations and uncertainty that accompany medical treatment in reality, they're not giving away answers on the show. "We're not giving an exact medical diagnosis just yet," Aptaker said, adding that "so many people in the writers' room have dealt with parents with various forms of, call it dementia, Alzheimer's, what you will, and we felt like it's a story that we haven't seen a ton on network television."
Moore, aside from continuously impressing viewers with her ability to age-slide her character from her 20s all the way up her 80s, has been more forthcoming. While fan theories insist that Rebecca is experiencing the onset of Alzheimer's disease, Moore has outright denied the claim. "I love how people are sleuths," she told Glamour earlier this year. "I love that! That's a good theory. Not true, but I like it."
Even if the Pearson matriarch isn't suffering from Alzheimer's, many fans identified with the sympathetic and all-too-real confusion, frustration, and mood swings of the beloved mother figure. Many praised Moore's portrayal of Rebecca's memory lapses, with many citing their own loved ones' struggles: "This episode hit me hard," one comment reads."...dealing with my father having Alzheimer's. Still bawling my eyes out." Another commenter replies, "same! My dad has vascular dementia! This disease is so horrible. I haven't watched the episode yet but just from the preview where rebecca is just standing there confused and not knowing where she was just broke my heart. I've see[n] my dad do this so many times. Now he can barely walk and is losing weight. He doesn't know any of us kids."
The Future Is Changing for the Pearsons - This Is Usyoutu.be
Above all, Rebecca's fate cements the show's ability to depict the heartbreak and decline of loved ones and even family bonds, as the midseason finale ended with a signature twist: Rebecca's struggles were actually taking place nine months into the future, on the Pearson triplet's 40th birthday. The writers filled the last few minutes of the episode with scintillating teasers, from foreboding to joyful: Kevin seems to have fulfilled his goal of settling down, alluding to his "pregnant fiance's" morning sickness; but he reminds Rebecca that he and Randall are no longer speaking; and Toby is suspiciously absent from his wife's birthday party, suggesting that he and Kate have parted ways.
According to the show's producers, we won't have to wait too long to find out what's happening to Rebecca. "So much of this show is about memory and about looking back," Aptaker said. "So the idea that one of our characters would be faced with this incredibly scary illness where you begin to lose that and that begins to fade away felt very in keeping with the themes of the show." Another one of the show's themes is its ability to make 12 million viewers cry, in sync, every Tuesday at 9 p.m EST. The only tradition more American than Thanksgiving is treating TV as group therapy, and This Is Us will resume sessions with us on January 14, 2020.
Photo by Richard Shotwell (Invision-AP-Shutterstock)
This Is Us isn't sugarcoating the tough questions in Season 4, whether that's regarding Cassidy Sharp's (Jennifer Morrison) PTSD, the reality of teenage parenthood, or Randall Pearson's (Sterling K. Brown) adolescent struggles as a black adoptee in a white family.
In the last episode, "The Dinner and the Date," two difficult dinner conversations about race and class, taking place in two different decades, overlap. The episode teased out this season's surprisingly complex themes about interracial families and socioeconomic clashes. Helming the show's unique turn is writer Kay Oyegun, who continues to elevate its creative and thematic sophistication by bringing fraught conversations to the attention of the show's 12 million viewers. Namely, how can a white family help their adopted child of color figure out his identity?
In a series of flashbacks, we witness the night Jack (Milo Ventimilgia) and Rebecca (Mandy Moore) Pearson invite young Randall's favorite teacher—and the only black instructor at his elite private school—Mr. Lawrence (Brandon Scott) and his wife, Trish (Skye P. Marshall), over to dinner. Simultaneously, in the present, we see Randall (Sterling K. Brown) inviting the parents of his adopted daughter's would-be boyfriend over for dinner to plan their children's breakup. Deja (Lyric Ross), the daughter of a drug addict who's experienced homelessness and abusive foster care, has served as a stark contrast to the privileged upbringing Randall had and the one he's giving his children with his wife, Beth (Susan Kelechi Watson). Now her first love interest, Malik (Asante Blackk) is an earnest, kind, confident 14-year-old who understands Deja in a way no one in her upper middle class family has been able to—and he happens to have an infant daughter.
This Is Us 4x07 Promo "The Dinner And The Date" (HD)www.youtube.com
So the two conflicted dinners mix the cringe comedy of socially awkward conversations with the serious gravity—and deep, deep flaws—of Jack's comment to Mr. Lawrence: "I can't teach my son how to be black."
Mr. Lawrence's response is perfect and well-acted: a mortified snort. "Oh don't...don't do that," he chuffs, before going to his car to retrieve a book of black conscious poetry that he intended to give to Randall. Instead he gives it to Jack, who takes the collection of Langston Hughes poetry to young Randall's room, and the two bond over Randall's favorite poem, which he's already memorized.
Whether or not you're like me and hate to admit you've ever shed a tear over anything short of battery acid straight to the eye, young Randall's recitation of "I, Too" is the kind of formulaic pathos and prime time pageantry that great tear-jerkers are made of. That is to say: Yes, I f*cking wept, you cretins, and if you didn't, then you are a Black Mirror robot dog.
In its totality, this is Hughe's "I, Too" poem, and what follows is why I, Jack, and most of America caught a bug in the eye or something when young Randall recited it.
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong.
Tomorrow, I'll be at the table When company comes. Nobody'll dare Say to me, "Eat in the kitchen," Then.
Besides, They'll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed—
I, too, am America.
The driving force of tension at Mr. Lawrence's dinner at the Pearson's is Jack's palpable feeling of being threatened by him. During last week's episode, "The Club," Jack struggled to articulate why he was intimidated by Randall's affinity for Mr. Lawrence. Driven partly by over-protection and probably part shame, he said that Randall is getting older and asking more complex questions "about his place in this world" and that there are things he "can't show [his] son." He even made the faux pas of telling Randall, "I don't see color, I see my son," which he quickly realized was, however well-intentioned, very off the mark, as Randall replied, "Then you don't see me, dad."
So with Mr. Lawrence and his wife sitting at his table with his children, Jack continuously makes passive aggressive remarks challenging Mr. Lawrence's right to introduce Randall to new parts of culture, like the local black arts festival that Randall asks to attend with his teacher. Jack interrupts to say that the Pearsons can all go "as a family" and leave Mr. Lawrence to go "with his friends." The tension builds until Rebecca meets Jack in the kitchen to inform him of the absolute obvious: Randall is his son; Randall will always prefer him to any other male role model in his life; but if Jack makes Randall choose him and sacrifice having other important figures who could help him learn who he is, then Randall will suffer for it.
This is Us 4x07 Sneak Peek Clip 2 "The Dinner And The Date"www.youtube.com
It's a clear cut, direct, and honest depiction of a good man and a good father (Jack is inarguably America's Favorite Dad)—being completely ignorant, and sort of a d*ck. Jack is threatened and worried that he is fundamentally lacking as a white father to a black son—not from any racial prejudice, but from insecurity in himself as a parent. He recognizes that race does matter to the world that will receive his children as adults—grievously so, in fact. He has a very human, self-protective instinct to deny and resist that reality, but he senses that doing so would be harmful to Randall in some vital way.
So really, his stumbled comment, "I can't teach Randall how to be black," is his best articulation of that anxiety and his acknowledgement of that terrible, sad fact. And he senses, in some itchy, nebulous way, that if Randall doesn't learn how to respond to the way the world will treat him, and if he doesn't learn the history of how people who looked liked him were treated, then Randall will be ill-equipped to face the world. Or, more accurately, Jack would be keeping him away from something that he needs in order to live a fully conscious life.
That's how we get to the scene in young Randall's bedroom, after he's just declared his favorite poem to be Langston Hughe's "I, Too" and recited it from memory in front of Jack, who promises that they're going to read the entire collection of poetry together.
Photo by Richard Shotwell (Invision-AP-Shutterstock)
On paper, This Is Us has all the staples of the perfect, corny family drama that networks like NBC love to exploit: saccharine speeches about family solidarity, impromptu monologues about inner demons, and a sappy instrumental soundtrack.
And so far, it's working. As the show wraps up its fourth season, the intergenerational, multiracial, and flashback-loving Pearson family still captures millions of Americans' attention every Tuesday.At the center of the show's pull is the magnetic Sterling K. Brown, who's garnered an Emmy Award and a Golden Globe nomination for his performance as Randall Pearson, the adopted black son of white parents Jack (Milo Ventimiglia) and Kate (Mandy Moore). Randall and his outspoken wife, Beth (played by the lovely Susan Kelechi Watson) bring dry humor and vulnerability to discussions about anxiety disorders, child welfare, racial politics, and, as last week's episode highlighted, interracial adoption.
Brown is aware of his character's significance to those at the margins of mainstream representation, particularly those of us who aren't white or neurotypical or raised by our biological parents. "I just love there's a sort of diaspora of African American representation," said Brown. "'This Is Us' is all about family and all about connection, and the world of the show continues to expand over the years. But it really does my heart good when, every once in a while, the show becomes very focused on the African American experience through Randall's family, through these other families that we've added to the fold, and they're not the same." Indeed, last season writer Faye McCray of blackgirlnerds published, "Just Admit It, NBC: 'This Is Us' Is (Almost) a Black Show," in which she praised the (sadly rare) realistic depiction of a black family. (And that was before Randall defended himself against someone erasing his black experience just because he was raised in a white family, asserting, "Don't get it twisted, sis. I wake up every day to a headscarf and coconut oil. I'm married to a black queen, not that it's any of your business." Go, Randall, you hard-working, bespectacled, anxiety-ridden nerd who became a proud man and king of dad jokes!).
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Aside from giving the show incentive to diversify its writing team (the show's white creators added three black writers to the final team of 10 to "get a bigger voice in [race-related] stories"), Randall also shows that mental illness can look strong, refined, and put-together, even on the cusp of a mental breakdown, of which he's had two. Brown said of his character's battle with anxiety, "I felt a responsibility because of people in my family who have anxiety or different mental disorders, I've been witness to it, and it's important to put it out there in a way that releases the stigma of it."
That brings us to season four, when the flashbacks to the Pearson triplet's adolescence coincide with Randall's own children's adolescence. Among the many growing pains, Randall's seen his oldest daughter experience a panic attack for the first time. He silently stewed at the kitchen table while jouncing his knee, while Beth looked on with the knowledge that fidgeting is Randall's tell-tale sign of his own anxiety. When he finally spoke, he recounted to his wife that he grew up without sharing any biological connections to his family, so it's particularly difficult to accept that he's passed on what he perceives to be his worst trait to his children. After the episode aired, Brown tweeted about the importance of mental health: "Tess had a panic attack. It runs in the family as we all know and have seen with Randall," he wrote. "Let's open up a dialogue about mental health. How do you navigate the sometimes overwhelming stressors/anxieties in your life?"
The incident was also the first time Randall opened up about being an adoptee whose only living biological relatives are his own children: It's a strange inevitability for all adoptees. As Vulture's Rebecca Carroll wrote in her piece "What This Is Us Gets Right About Being a Black Kid in a White Family," "Adoptees often need to make families that are of our bodies, and we need to make people who look like us, because it's a lot to be the only one in the room, in the family, the town, at the pool, for your entire childhood and youth." As a black adoptee in a white family herself, Carroll illuminates one of the show's most daunting tasks: how to portray interracial adoption accurately without the Hallmark platitudes, without invalidating mixed-race families' bonds with each other, and without erasing the reality of being a person of color in America.
After all, the unquestionable throughline of This Is Us is that Jack and Kate are likable but flawed people, whether in flashbacks to their youth or many years into their marriage. Still, Carroll succinctly writes, "...But add to that the historic and presumed assertion that white people can, will, and should decide the fate of black people, and love is just not enough. Obviously, there are exceptions, but white parents raising black kids often think they know what it means to raise black kids — 'If I say I'm raising a black child, I'm raising a black child, and he/she is mine,' as Rebecca later intones—when it's so much more fraught than that for the children."
So what This Is Us is finally addressing, beginning in the episode "The Club" and reaching daring heights in "The Dinner and the Date," is how 12-year-old Randall first realized that his parents' love has limitations. In season four, we've met Mr. Lawrence, the only black teacher at Randall's elite private school, with whom he's closely bonded and from whom he eagerly accepts reading recommendations, like James Baldwin and Martin Luther King, Jr. When Randall tries to articulate how valuable these black authors are to him, his father doesn't understand. "Jack sees his son. He doesn't see color," Ventimiglia said. "But it's important to note that, as Randall said in a previous episode, 'If you don't see color, you don't see me.' As wonderful as it is that Jack just sees this young boy who grows into the young man that he loves ... he also comes to understand that there are things that he can't teach through experience, there are things that he can't show his son."
But This Is Us doesn't simplify the problem or completely absolve Rebecca and Jack of their ignorance. Jack's first impulse is to compare his past struggles with classism with the systemic racism Randall is going to have to face his entire life. After he realizes the deep flaws of that analogy, Jack decides to invite Mr. Lawrence and his wife over for an incredibly tense but brutally honest dinner. Ultimately, Jack confronts his own feelings of intimidation and insecurity that Mr. Lawrence stirs, because, as Jack struggles to articulate, "I can't teach my son how to be black." Jack's struggles to even articulate what it means to be a person of color lead him to a hint of revelation: He can't know what it's like, so what he can do is listen and learn, alongside Randall as he navigates his own self-discovery.
So for interracial adoptees like Carroll (and me), it's comforting, strange, and refreshing, however sad, to see this discomfort being aired on the fifth most popular show on TV, before 12 million weekly viewers. In fact, scriptwriter Kay Oyegun wants to bring this conflict (originally conceived by creator Dan Fogelman) to life this season. "I'll be very frank: A lot of white people feel uneasy talking about race," she said. "Black people talk about race quite often, mostly because it's something that's a part of our daily lives. I think one of the things that we wanted to do with this episode was make it OK to talk about race, was to destigmatize, normalize and begin a fluid conversation about differences, about similarities, and about where and how we can find — not even common ground, there's just ground, right?"
SPOILERS
But all of that underlying conflict culminates in Randall's decision in the season's penultimate episode. He outright emotionally manipulates his elderly mother, who's just been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, into entering a clinical trial. That means being separated from her family when she may only have precious little time left. "I've been a good son," Randall repeats. "I've never asked you for anything." This comes after telling Rebecca that he hasn't resented her for lying to him about his biological father. It's a scene so well-acted by Moore and Brown that die-hard fans of the show were divided by Randall's uncharacteristic pragmatism: He says he needs his mother to do this, regardless of whether she wants to or not.
"I've already lost three parents," he tells his therapist before calling Rebecca, referring to his biological parents and Jack. "I know that losing my mother would break me. I can't lose her. I will do anything to keep that from happening." After four seasons of Randall fortifying himself against his buried issues because he saw himself as the pillar of the family, he carefully orchestrates to whom and when he shows his insecurities in order not to be hurt again.
Does Randall's complicated past as an interracial adoptee justify the manipulation? What's the ultimate cost of Rebecca's sacrifice?
The season four finale of This Is Us airs Tuesday, March 24.
Photo by Richard Shotwell (Invision-AP-Shutterstock)
What do you do when the co-worker you've started making out with at work suddenly shows up at your door to have dinner with your family?
Don't worry, he just knows that you're dreading it, so he looked through your job application to find your address and decided to show up uninvited. You're also a teenager, he's in his twenties, and he's also your boss. What do you do? Slam the f*cking door.
Unfortunately, it's truly not that simple when a charming individual starts pushing personal boundaries—especially if you're a young woman ages 18 to 24, especially when it's your first relationship, and especially when it's not long after your father just died (from a janky crock-pot, no less). That's what we know about Kate Pearson's teen years so far on season 4 of This Is Us. Among the most tear-jerking moments from last week's episode was Randall's realization that he's passed his anxiety on to his daughter and Uncle Nicky's bonding moment with Kevin. But then Kate and Rebecca shared an ominous moment while reminiscing on Kate's first boyfriend, Marc. After Kate discovers an old Polaroid of herself and Marc, her mother reflects solemnly, "I was trying so hard to hold it together that year after your father died, and I wanted to believe so badly that you kids were happy, I didn't see what was happening." Kate responded, "I didn't see it either."
Based on executive producers' and young Kate actress' (Hannah Zeile) thinly veiled hints and the show's typically dramatic build-up, signs point to Kate's first love turning into an abusive relationship. The twenty-something-year-old has recently hired the teenager to work at the record store, and we see Kate and Marc spending most of her shift kissing in the back room. While Kate introduces Marc as her "friend from work," he ignores that to introduce himself as her boyfriend. While Marc seems charming and affable (not to mention his 90s grunge, laid-back vibe), his charisma is paired with a slightly possessive hold on Kate's arm throughout his visit.
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Co-showrunner Isaac Aptaker hasn't been coy about the show's exploration of this dark time in young Kate's life. He's confirmed that fans "should have a healthy amount of concern" over what occurred in Kate's first relationship. "I mean, there's something ominous looming there, the way that Rebecca and Kate are speaking about that relationship in the present day," he explained. "And although he seems like a sweet guy now, it certainly seems like that did not end well for Kate." Fellow showrunner Elizabeth Berger has been more to the point, highlighting red flags in Marc's brief appearance on the show. He arrives, uninvited, at the Pearson home for a tense family dinner, passing it off as a seemingly charming gesture so Kate wouldn't have to "deal with this alone." But Berger notes that the act is particularly "telling" about his character. "That will definitely prove to be symbolic of Mark's larger personality," she revealed. "He's obviously somebody that goes for what he wants and feels entitled to show up to a place even when he's not invited."
Dan Fogelman's NBC family drama has managed to address a litany of delicate issues without exploiting trauma for higher ratings. From addiction and miscarriages to mental illness and HIV/AIDS, what's jokingly referred to as the show that makes America cry is a well-crafted tableau of a flawed family that doesn't always handle its demons well. As Aptaker notes about Kate's teen years, "I think Kate's at an incredibly sensitive, potentially vulnerable time in her life, a little bit aimless, searching for meaning and searching for a plan in the wake of her father's death." Compounded with the fact that the highest rates of partner violence occur among females ages 18 to 24, Kate's long-standing struggles with body image, self-confidence, and food could easily be influenced by an early abusive relationship.
It's also sadly reflective of society, as nearly 1 in 3 (35.6%) of women in the U.S. "have experienced rape, physical violence and/or stalking by an intimate partner in their lifetime," according to the National Domestic Violence Hotline. Nearly half of all women (48.4%) have experienced "psychological aggression by an intimate partner in their lifetime." And while there are many forms of partner abuse (all varied, but all valid), whether emotional, physical, verbal, sexual, or even economic, anyone can fall into an abusive relationship if preyed upon during a vulnerable time. Furthermore, teens who experience abuse become alarmingly more susceptible to depression, anxiety, and harmful behaviors like substance abuse. After working with One Love Foundation's #ThatsNotLove campaign, 20-year-old Mattis Collier reflected, "It's not just bruises that are giveaways for an abusive relationship… It's how someone talks to you. It's how someone treats you. It's how someone talks about you to others."
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