Lena Dunham's Latest Show "Too Much" is Simply Not Enough

As a lover of Girls and writing about my early twenties, I approached Lena Dunham’s newest television show Too Much with total elation. If the project even cast a candlelight on  the genius that is Girls, I’d be satisfied. But before approaching the show, there were signs of weariness. For starters, the show was created for Netflix. That isn’t to say Netflix produces bad shows, but they do have sort of a “Netflixy” glow: perfect outfits, spotless sets, and a glossy texture overlaid on any project. Then, I saw the trailer.

We’re pitched the narrative of a girl named Jessica (played by Megan Stalter) who runs off to London for a fresh start after a torrential breakup with Zev (played by Michael Zegen). In London, Jessica meets a rugged indie musician named Felix, played by White Lotus heartthrob Will Sharpe. This plot did not sell me. 

Now we’re here. Too Much is not bad. Nor do I think it’s phenomenal. For me, the show falls in the middle ground of “well, it’s good. I’m happy I spent my time on it,” but there are flaws. Let’s start with the good stuff. Megan Stalter is a gem. Jessica, in all her glory, is loud, outlandish, and charming. Stalter balances this performance with the same wit she brings to Hacks. I also do not understand how anyone dislikes her performance. The show is called “Too Much,” about a character who is literally ‘too much.’ 

Dunham, with her sharp pen, excels in flashbacks. The scenes between Jessica and her exhausting ex boyfriend—a knockoff Jack Antonoff—are cutting. There’s one scene in which Zev goes on a tirade about Jessica’s ‘bad’ music taste, leaving a pit in my stomach when Jessica says, “don’t make me feel stupid for loving things.”

Now the pitfalls: the show rings a tad flat. The pilot episode has awkward pacing and didn’t hook me. The British love interest, Felix, also confuses me. I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to feel bad for him, think he’s talented, or consider him a perfect match for Jessica. It’s also hard to look past the “Netflix” of it all. The show lacks grittiness—the kind of authenticity that carried Girls like gold. 

Too Much finds itself at its best when depicting low esteemed men pining after strong women, only to tear them down. It’s clear Dunham bases these scenes on her own life. And whether a fan or a critic of Dunham’s work, it’s clear she’s faced challenges (Dunham was at the center of the body shaming movement, and faced criticism over her memoir, Not That Kind of Girl).

My overall takeaway is that Too Much remains a diamond in the rough. The episodes flip flop from insightful perspectives on relationships to meandering confusion in trying to balance romantic comedy. Too Much takes risks, and while they’re not as bold as Dunham’s other projects, I appreciate the push towards something honest. For that, I’m glad it exists.

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