Significant ‘Other’: How Chris Kelly’s ‘Other People’ Informs ‘The Other Two’ on Comedy Central

Comedy Central’s The Other Two has already emerged as a major television breakout of 2019 – at least among the chattering class – so there’s little reason to rehash the manifold elements leading to the brilliance and resonance of this latest take on the sibling rivalry-cum-showbiz satire. Co-creators Chris Kelly and Sarah Schneider, best known in their capacities as former head writers of Saturday Night Live, are well-established entities among a certain sector of comedy fans, but their particular sensibilities are a little difficult to tease out.

Given that the show does not publicly credit specific sketches to writers, we are often left with little recourse to track specific writers’ patterns and proclivities outside of when they disclose their work. Kelly and Schneider were perhaps best known on the show for their raucous musical numbers featuring the show’s talented female cast, even earning Emmy nominations for writing the holiday bop “(Do It On My) Twin Bed.” But apart from The Other Two‘s incorporation of ChaseDreams’ teen anthems, which are both hilarious and hopelessly catchy, it’s tough to see that background rearing its head in the show from the first three episodes.

It is possible to draw a clearer line, however, from The Other Two back to Chris Kelly’s feature directorial debut, 2016’s Other People. I have no interest in erasing co-creator Sarah Schneider’s contributions to the series (especially because she and I share an alma mater), but there’s just not as clear of a data point for reference in her body of work. Kelly’s film, in retrospect, serves as an early showcase for many of the flavors of humor and thematic concerns that have come to flourish on the show.

If you haven’t heard of Other People, then clearly you haven’t been around me for the last three years, during which time I would somehow have told you about my magical experience seeing it at Sundance in 2016 and nearly collapsing into a puddle of tears. It’s the only post-screening Q&A where I’ve ever been willing to accept a parade of “it’s not a question, it’s more of a comment” folks taking the microphone, as everyone told their tearful stories of how the movie’s depiction of grief helped them come to terms with a similar incident from their own life.

Netflix scooped up rights to the film out of the festival, but since the theatrical distribution went to Vertical Entertainment, Other People does not technically wear the crucial seal of “Netflix Original.” While the film has built up an audience from streaming – Decider has spilled quite a bit of ink on it – I’d argue that far more people should have seen this movie by now. Despite all the aforementioned crying, Kelly’s autobiographically-tinged dramedy about moving home to Sacramento in order to care for his cancer-stricken mother, there’s more to the film than mawkish solicitation of tears. (Side note: surely some other filmmaker from Sacramento can make a movie about their hometown to complete the trilogy with this and Lady Bird.)

Like many writers who set out to accurately depict life, Kelly possesses an acute understanding that nothing can never be neatly compartmentalized into “comedy” and “drama.” Nothing is ever so clear cut. Other People kicks off with a scene showing the Mulcahy family in the throes of profound grief, a moment of mourning that gets quickly interrupted by a well-meaning voicemail that starts as a sympathy call only to devolve into that person ordering Del Taco at a drive-thru window. We’re never more than one person removed from a completely opposite sensation in Chris Kelly’s worlds, a perspective that can prove either tragic or vaguely comforting depending on someone’s current position.

The Other Two has thus far strayed away from outright calamity for any of the characters (although interviews suggest that could quickly change for Drew Tarver’s Cary Dubek, a struggling actor still awaiting his big break in New York). But not unlike Other People, the show embeds different shades of experience side-by-side, blowing up traditional straight character/comic character divides. Ridiculous showbiz personas in the orbit of ChaseDreams (Case Walker), the overnight teen pop sensation, coexist with the relatively more grounded humor of his less accomplished siblings Cary and Heléne York’s Brooke. The juxtaposition does not jar because Kelly understands how absurdity and pity exist along the same spectrum of human behavior rather than emanating from different impulses altogether.

Beyond style, The Other Two takes advantage of its larger canvas to expand a number of thematic threads from Other People. Kelly is working to advance gay representation on screen beyond the point where a character’s sexuality can only serve as a point of conflict in the story. His film stages a subtle contrast without conflict between Kelly’s stand-in David (Jesse Plemons) and the adolescent Justin (Josie Totah), who already feels free to express his sexuality without shame. While the idea of gay coming-of-age without the trauma of the closet is hopeful for David in the abstract, the acceptance of Justin’s unabashed self-presentation foils starkly with the blowback he received from loved ones in his own coming out.

The Other Two finds continued hilarity in the advances in public sentiment towards the LGBT community in recent years – as well as the long way left to go in achieving respect. “I think he’s bisexual,” Cary opines on his roommate in the show’s pilot, “because it’s not 2010 anymore. Those people are real now, they exist.” The show finds a frequent target for humor in people who have dropped the stigma around sexuality only to clumsily reveal the way they patronize LGBT people. From Cary’s restaurant boss who calls over both gay waiters to talk about how he watched Brokeback Mountain as if that would make him “in” to Brooke herself, who calls herself “basically bisexual” only to have her brother call the bluff. “You’re not bisexual,” he objects, “you just dress up for Pride!”

Further adventures in the 10-episode season will likely bear out further connections between Chris Kelly’s Other projects. Though no matter what else comes, it’s unlikely anything will tie them together more than the through-line of earnest familial affection. Kelly’s sharp wit might be acidic, but it is never venomous. In Other People, David might get frustrated with his family, but the time he spends embedded in their household reminds him that they are the one constant amidst his turbulent personal and professional life. What they might lack in understanding, they compensate for in intimate knowledge of David’s totality, which forces him into the one place he dreads the most: introspection and self-reflection.

Similarly, Cary and Brooke can rib each other like no one’s business because they know their sibling’s pain points. The Other Two frequently shows us how little they have in material possessions or professional accomplishments, so is it any surprise they cling so tightly to family? In a somewhat surprising turn, they even feel genuine affection for and protectiveness over Chase even as his career skyrockets past theirs. Cary and Brooke might be envious of their brother’s overnight success, yet the feeling never crystallizes into outright resentment. If this sounds sappy or out of character with the rest of the show, queue up on Other People on Netflix and see if you can hear Train’s “Drops of Jupiter” without tearing up again … then dare to doubt Chris Kelly’s sincerity again.

Marshall Shaffer is a New York-based freelance film journalist. In addition to Decider, his work has also appeared on Slashfilm, Slant, Little White Lies and many other outlets. Some day soon, everyone will realize how right he is about Spring Breakers.

Where to stream Other People

Where to stream The Other Two