3 out of 5

Created by: Natasha Lyonne, Leslye Headland, and Amy Poehler

covers seasons 1 and 2

Whenever I’m talking about an anime to a non-anime, primarily American / UK TV watcher, I’ll generally frame it with a rule: that in anime, sometimes things just are, and those things have rules, and learning the rules might be part of the story, but the story, very often, is not about that initial thing. The easiest example of this is isekai: being whisked off to another world. Maybe you’ll get an explanation as to why that happened, but it’s hardly important: whatever the adventures our lead(s) get embroiled in – dictated by various RPG rules – are the point, and not the why.

A fair proxy for this might be fantasy: tales in which you just accept that magic, or whatever, exists. But I still think a difference there is that fantasy (in a generalization) will still have internal logic based on “real” logic, whereas the internal logic of an anime – if we use fantasy as a base – might just be that things happen because they also happen in generic fantasy movies. Again, the point here is that anime often wants to give us a story, and the premise for telling that story is meant to just be assumed, not over-explained.

…And Russian Doll I think attempts a similar strategy with its time rewind / displacement gimmicks, and hence my prattle: there’s an explanation for why Nadia (Lyonne) and Alan (Charlie Barnett) are stuck in separate, but linked, time loops, which start from a particular point and then end when either of them dies (in season 1, at least), but the why, and understanding the rules of the loops, are somewhat background to a story that contemplates life’s various potential meanings (or just the potentials!) from many, let’s-go-’round-this-loop-again directions. This – for a non-anime – unique approach, and an energy-whirlwind performance from Lyonne, are what, I think, make Russian Doll so grabbing: it’s very much a just-one-more-episode type show, and not really because of cliffhangers, but moreso because its worlds and character interactions are so much fun, and always sort of shifting.

Wrapped up within that, though, is also what holds Russian Doll back: it’s ever-shifting nature includes the way it tells its story, which does actually let the focus drift to exploring those Whys of the loops, and then sort of confusing whether it wants to world build or expand on themes; in season one, this leads to what feels like a sloppy conclusion on a very driven study of guilt – like all of a sudden it’s the loop that matters, and not the story; in season 2, where the loop finds Nadia and Alan using a subway to travel back into the bodies of people from prior generations, it’s the inverse: the last episode finds that balance between Russian Doll’s narrative being about something, versus just telling us about that something, but everything leading up to that feels like a feint, trying to establish a point but getting distracted by a flashy high concept.

The other distraction throughout is, unfortunately, Alan. Not Barnett, who’s a delight in the role, but it continually feels – in both seasons – like he’s only really there to give someone consistent for the erratic Nadya to talk to, but the script writers also realized her path wouldn’t make sense if she was always traveling with a buddy (and the show definitely doesn’t need – and doesn’t force – a romantic subplot, thank god), so in order to give Alan awareness of the loops, he’s sent off on his own journey, which is thematically linked… but always, always secondary. In the season 1 and 2 comparison, the character’s relevance experiences the same aforementioned focus flip-flop: he appears to be more central for most of season 1 until the conclusion; and then is more obviously superfluous in season 2 until that conclusion – one of the show’s best episodes – successfully ties themes and things together.

The show is thus not the doll of its title, but rather differently painted dolls, stacked side by side. It is often hilarious, and pretty much always watchable, but there’s an itch throughout that the indecisiveness between think piece and a sci-fi puzzler (and perhaps just being an irreverent comedy) holds it back, ultimately cheapening its messaging, and, once you indulge in scratching that itch, can somewhat undermine its momentum.