‘SMILF’ Has Exceeded Our Wildest Expectations

When SMILF premiered on Showtime in early November, viewers and critics alike weren’t sure what to think. The general consensus seemed to be that the pilot had a lot of heart and a good message, but the jarring sex jokes and bawdy comedy overshadowed the good aspects. Viewers were hopeful that the show would grow out of its initial awkwardness and focus on its unique premise, one that’s centered on the show’s title: single mother I’d like to f*ck.

As it turns out, Frankie Shaw and the SMILF team not only met our expectations, but far exceeded them. In the second episode, the show dropped the over-the-top sex jokes–while still creating a funny and relatable account of Bridgette’s lackluster sex life–and leaned into its complex web of character relationships. In the third episode, the show provided a nuanced portrait of sexual assault and offered some much-needed catharsis after weeks of reading about sexual misconduct in the news. And with last night’s episode, only SMILF’s fifth episode, the show cemented itself as a boundary-pushing comedy that deserves serious awards attention.

SMILF is one of those amazing surprises that you never expected but can’t believe you ever lived without. We came for a show about a single mom struggling to manage her career, sex life, and family drama, but in the weeks since, we’ve been gifted a show that’s also about female friendships, white privilege, sexual assault, and self-identity.

What’s amazing about the show is that it so quietly hits on each of these secondary themes: Nelson (Samara Weaving), baby daddy Rafi’s new girlfriend, could easily be an adversary to Bridgette, but instead, the two become good friends. Never was there an explicit moment in which the two said, “Let’s be friends;” rather, their bond was just treated as a given and was never mentioned again. Even when Bridgette’s relationship with Rafi is tested, like when he baptizes baby Larry without his mother’s consent, Nelson and Bridgette remain allies, and the strength of their friendship (not to mention the hilarious banter) has become part of the show’s foundation.

Similarly, in last night’s episode (which served as an homage to the 1998 film Run Lola Run), Bridgette’s friend Eliza (Raven Goodwin) takes off her clothes in an attempt to show her father the real her. “Matter of fact, take a good look at me. I’m beautiful, and I’m your daughter!” she sings. This was a huge moment for Eliza, who we’ve only seen as confident about her weight in the past, because she finally stood up to the man who has made her feel privately insecure about her body for decades. It was a powerful, “Yaas Qween” moment that made an already nuanced character even more complicated, but it was by no means the central moment of the episode. That honor goes to Bridgette, who, in four separate alternate-reality segments, attempted to figure out the best way to handle Father’s’ Day when you’re mad at your baby daddy and don’t have a father yourself. Yes, SMILF fit all this in a 28 minute episode, and it did it with a beautiful, understated poise.

I don’t know if SMILF meant to jump into its multi-faceted role as a clever and relatable show that so perfectly captures what it’s like to be a woman–of many kinds–in this crazy time, but I am here for it. As much as I love the show’s focus on single motherhood, I also love its focus on the importance of friendships and body positivity and needing your mom (Rosie O’Donnell deserves some much-needed credit for playing Bridgette’s mom Tutu) when you really don’t want to admit that you need her. These elements make the show’s central premise so much stronger, and in a world where we’re bombarded with new TV shows and a constantly negative news cycle, they’re the elements that make SMILF a must-see every week.

Stream SMILF on Showtime