Why Does Everybody Hate ‘Ted Lasso’ All of a Sudden?

Everything we can’t stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture. [Manage newsletters]( [View in browser]( [Image] with Kevin Fallon Everything we can’t stop loving, hating, and thinking about this week in pop culture. This Week: - People are speaking ill of my husband, Ted Lasso. - The movie clip that just about broke me. - A Molly Shannon appreciation, always and forever. - Good news about me living forever. - Princess Diana defeats Spider-Man, every time. People Are Mad About Ted Lasso, and They’re Wrong The great thing about pop culture is that everyone gets to have an opinion. It’s just that so many of them are wrong. I kid. I’m not (that) elitist. The phrase “everybody’s a critic” exists for a reason, presumably beyond to torture me, a person who is a critic. But every once in a while there is a groundswell of opinion about something that, while it must be valid—there are enough people thinking that way for it to be noticed—is absolutely baffling. To say it’s wrong would be as flippant as the people spraining their thumbs with their flurry of tweets. Still, it’s hard not to have a visceral reaction. This is all to say: Keep my husband [Ted Lasso’s name]( out of your trash mouths. I’m going to use it one more time before it joins my list of banned words alongside “hottake,” “stan,” and “moist,” but there’s been surprisingly passionate “discourse” (ugh) over the last few weeks over [season two of the Apple TV+ series](. Having seen the first eight episodes of the season before it premiered and then galloping through the streets like a gay Paul Revere screaming, “It’s so good, you guys!!!,” I was startled to discover that there is a rising backlash. Backlash! To Ted Lasso!!! There seem to be several factions to the criticism, two of which I reject and one I sprained my eyes by rolling at it so hard. (They’re still twitching.) Some think the show has become too nice, or too Ted Lasso-y. To those who have had their souls healed, hearts fortified, and lifespan elongated by the pleasures of this series, there is a narrative steeped in that hyperbole and those fan hysterics: that this show somehow saved us. It’s about an American football coach (Jason Sudeikis) who is brought over to London to helm a struggling football-as-in-soccer club as part of a dastardly plan to sabotage the team. His disorienting optimism and unflappable insistence on seeing the potential good in people slowly wins over all the skeptical Brits who were giving him a hard time. How sweet! It debuted during the darkest period of the pandemic, when its positivity seemed radical. When everyone else was disappointing us, Ted was the Only Good Straight White Guy. Moreover, the show wasn’t portraying some utopian delusion; [the world he was creating]( was one we could create for ourselves, if we would only open ourselves up to it. Fans who are displeased with season two think it’s become a parody of all that praise. Especially now that Ted has charmed all the characters who used to be his foils, the tension-less lovefest has veered from sweet to saccharine. [The Onion parodied]( that this week with a post touting the most recent episode as “just stock photos of people hugging each other,” reporting that fans can’t wait for the finale, “which was rumored to feature a single image of a duckling.” If there were rumblings about the show’s signature warmth reaching a boiling point, then the timing of the season’s Christmas episode couldn’t have been worse. This is where things get exasperating for me. It is, in my mind, a perfect Christmas episode. My heart grew so many sizes after watching that The Grinch sent a cease and desist. (Apparently that’s “his deal.”) Gay Paul Revere hit the streets again, telling everyone they were going to love it. But it turned out that airing an episode so extremely heartwarming and pure amid a building backlash against the show’s heart, warmth, and purity only amplified those complaints. Fellow critics, like [Vulture’s Kathryn VanArendonk]( and [Decider’s Meghan O’Keefe](, have posited that Ted Lasso’s weekly release could be to blame for the spike in these gripes. Binge a full season of a series, and something like the Christmas episode is a toasty chestnut; a treat in the grander scheme. But during a weekly rollout, it becomes damning proof of a critical accusation: See! It’s all too nice! Ted Lasso is that rare case in which, in the age of bingeing, we are actually talking about a buzzy show for more than three days before forgetting about it and moving onto the next shiny thing. This is a great theory as to why this backlash has gathered so much momentum, but the thing is, that aforementioned grander scheme will soon satisfy all those complainers. Having seen what’s coming down the pike, what struck me most about this season is how dark it actually becomes. Ted Lasso, in both seasons thus far, never pretends that the demons that haunt us in the real world don’t exist. It has offered a life view that helps keep them at bay, but, as season two continues, we’ll see how that may not be feasible in the long term. It shouldn’t be startling to learn that there’s a tragic past that underlies Ted’s aggressive niceness. He’s going to confront it. And it’s not just him—that “everyone now just gets along” thing that people have been complaining about is a narrative device that allows the supporting characters to grapple with their own dark struggles. It’s the support they are receiving as a loving community now that makes it so they can delve into it. That’s why I also reject the backlash around the idea that nothing is happening this season. The biggest disrupter is a sports psychologist (Sarah Niles’ Sharon), who is brought on board to help the team. No character has ever had more tension with Ted than Sharon, in a way that almost seems to go against everything we know about him. The season does have an arc. It’s about therapy, and the fear that underlies having to learn, accept, and then live with yourself and your past. The “there’s no plot” this season makes me realize how many people thought this really was a sports show—which is unexpected given how so much “discourse” (again, ugh) around season one centered around being able to appreciate it even if you don’t like sports. Sure, there’s nothing as dramatic as Ted trying to keep the team alive, but there are important games that are built up too. The fact that the show used the universe established in season one to mine more personal, intimate storylines with the characters—and then some fans have rejected that—is fascinating to me. It’s not bad or boring, in my opinion. It’s different, but richer. Then there’s the third thing, and it is this that I have no patience for. Society loves nothing more than to give oxygen to the killjoys, allowing them to continue their pattern of arson, burning down all the things that people love. Success and adoration turns anything beloved into a target, and here is a show that received almost unparalleled acclaim, is about to win a truckload of Emmys next month, and, more, did all that with the audacity of being about niceness. Everyone involved might as well have poured gasoline over themselves and handed the inevitable haters their match. It’s all very predictable. Popularity breeds negativity. It happened with Schitt’s Creek. It happened with The Office. I watched it happen four different times over the course of 20 years with Friends, most recently [surrounding the reunion mayhem](. (Smugly announcing that you don’t find Friends funny is not a personality trait, and never has been.) There are those who can’t stand a show because of who its protagonist is, what story it is telling, and, more pointedly, who its protagonist isn’t and what stories aren’t being told. Agency, inclusivity, and pragmatism should be constantly on our minds as pop culture consumers. But sometimes shows should be allowed to be the shows that they are, and not whatever version some of us have in our heads of what TV should be or needs to talk about. The thing about Ted Lasso season two is that it is exactly what Ted Lasso season two should be. Now let me and my husband Ted live in peace. The Movie Clip That Broke My BrainThe Jeopardy! Scandal Is Very Upsetting to Me! I’m not sure if we needed [yet another Cinderella movie](, but that has never been a concern for Hollywood before. And I’m not sure if we needed to make Camilla Cabello a movie star, but putting an end to [the pop star’s tyranny]( hasn’t been a concern yet either. A clip released this week of Amazon’s upcoming Cinderella film, featuring the “Havana” warbler in the titular role, didn’t do either of these things any favors. In fact, the only need there is now is to call the police. The FBI. Olivia Benson. Olivia Pope. Harriet the Spy. The reporters who got the dirt that got [that dude fired from Jeopardy!]( I don’t know or care who, but someone needs to step in and make sure justice is served for this. [Alternate text] It’s not fair to judge an entire movie based on a clip, except for the fact that releasing a single teaser scene from an upcoming movie invites us to do just that. ([Watch it here](.) In this one, Billy Porter plays Fab G, the film’s version of the classic tale’s fairy godmother, who makes over Cabello’s Cinderella with a ball gown and slippers. “Yasss, future queen. Yassss!” Fab G coos at the transformation. Cinderella echoes with neck-rolling, finger-waving confidence and sass. But what about her shoes? They’re so uncomfortable. Can’t Fab G do anything about it? “Women’s shoes are as they are. Even magic has its limits.” I have no idea what messy thesis about gender is being shared here. It’s so refreshing and progressive to cast Porter in the typically female role and to outfit the performer in gender-noncomforming costumes. But painful high heels? We must stick to that gender norm at all costs. It doesn’t help that the dialogue is written as if a computer built in 2009 was fed transcripts of episodes of the original Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and the first few seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race and then generated its own script. This isn’t a personal vendetta. [Social]( [media]( [reaction]( [was](, [let’s say](, [less]( [than]( [kind](. Maybe the actual film won’t be so cringe-worthy. To borrow more circa-2010 LGBT lingo, there’s always hope that it gets better. The Summer of Molly Shannon Being Flawless There is never a time when we’re not obsessed with Molly Shannon. But occasionally the intensity of the adoration spikes on the Appreciation Richter Scale, and lately there’s been some real seismic activity. Her small role as [spoiled brat Shane’s mom]( on [The White Lotus](, the woman who crashes her son’s honeymoon because he can’t get over the fact that he and his wife were put in the wrong suite, was a masterclass in subverting stereotypes. She’s an impossibly rich society woman with encyclopedic knowledge of the best four-star tropical resort destinations who is narcissistic enough to tell her new daughter-in-law that she was so consumed with the stress of her wedding that she doesn’t even remember it. Every line that came out of her mouth made me want to scream in horror at the crass entitlement. But Shannon found a way to deliver them so that they were not just unapologetic, but—God help me—reasoned. When her daughter-in-law says she wants to return to work, the way she so reflexively and casually responds, “No, why would you do that?” sent me hurtling through the back of the couch, my living room wall, into my neighbor’s apartment. And then her aghast reaction to the idea of a “trophy wife” being a bad thing poofed me into dust: “A trophy shines. It’s a source of pride. A trophy’s made of gold.” Never has a character so monstrous been so rationalized. It’s a two-part triumph for Shannon this summer. The Other Two, one of my favorite shows, [premiered its second season]( this week, marking the return of Shannon’s wholesome Pat Dubek, a supportive mother who is now a popular talk show host. It’s a tour de force comedy performance, and the premiere has one scene that I can’t stop thinking about—one that could be a throwaway in other actors’ hands, but which Shannon spins into gold. She’s interviewing a grieving widow on her talk show, and as she listens to the woman’s story, keeps interjecting with two words. “Oh no.” “Oh good.” Describing it doesn’t do it justice. It’s masterful. Go check it out on HBO Max, and then give me a call so we can spend the appropriate three-to-five hours gushing about Molly Shannon. I’m Gonna Live Foreverrrr There are some who saw [reports of a study this week]( disturbing, with its findings that eating certain foods, like one hot dog, could take 35 minutes off your life. I, however, was inspired. I’m no mathematician, but if eating one hot dog could take 35 minutes off your life then apparently my original lifespan was 147 years, at least. It turns out I’m a medical marvel! [Alternate text] The study, which I take with a grain salt (something that, it turns out, will also take time off my life), alleges that eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich could add 33 minutes, should anyone be alarmed by the strict hot dog and PB&J diet I am putting myself on as I live to eternity. Into the Princess Diana Multiverse This week, the [trailer for Spider-Man: No Way Home]( shattered records for the most views in 24 hours. All I can say is, good luck getting me to learn what the hell a multiverse is. Also this week, a [teaser trailer]( and [poster]( for the Kristen Stewart Princess Diana film Spencer was released. All I can say is good luck getting me to talk about anything else for the next six days, at least. [Alternate text] [Alternate text] - PEN15 Animated Special: A little one-off treat while we wait for a new season to delight/traumatize us. (Fri. on Hulu) - 9/11: One Day in America: I don’t have the fortitude to withstand the flurry of 9/11 docs coming out for the anniversary. But I’ve heard great things about this one if you do. (Sun. on Nat Geo) - Only Murders in the Building: A series about crime podcast enthusiasts recording their own crime podcast, but starring Steve Martin and Martin Short, so it’s not insufferable. (Tues. on Hulu) - What We Do in the Shadows: My answer to everyone’s, “What’s a great funny series to binge?” question is back! (Thurs. on FX) [Alternate text] - He’s All That: Are no semi-problematic ’90s nostalgia pieces sacred anymore??? (Fri. on Netflix) - Candyman: Nothing says nature is healing like a mediocre reboot. (Fri. in theaters) Advertisement [Facebook]( [Twitter]( [Instagram]( © Copyright 2021 The Daily Beast Company LLC 555 W. 18th Street, New York NY 10011 [Privacy Policy]( If you are on a mobile device or cannot view the images in this message, [click here]( to view this email in your browser. To ensure delivery of these emails, please add emails@thedailybeast.com to your address book. If you no longer wish to receive these emails, or think you have received this message in error, you can [safely unsubscribe](.