Every few years, a new show graces us with a full, unabridged Kathryn Hahn.
Her show-stealing supporting performances in “WandaVision” or “Transparent” are gifts in their own right. But Hahn as a show’s lead guarantees it will be worth watching, if simply for the sheer amount of access granted to the performer’s distinct mix of emotional authenticity and exquisite comic timing.
Late in “Tiny Beautiful Things,” the new, eight-episode Hulu series in which she stars as blocked novelist turned advice columnist Clare, Hahn switches from raw to witty in seconds as her character sits in couples therapy with her musician husband, Danny (Quentin Plair). When Danny alludes too casually to an aspect of Clare’s rough childhood, Hahn’s face registers the hurt we all feel when loved ones fail to keep our most painful life moments at top of mind. But just when it seems Clare might curl into a ball of anguish, she delivers a zinger that cuts the tension in the room and in this tragicomedy.
Hahn’s unshowy yet revelatory range sustains “Tiny Beautiful Things” – based on “Wild” author Cheryl Strayed’s collection of her “Dear Sugar” advice columns for the online magazine The Rumpus – through a wobbly start and overpacked middle section. By its final three episodes, this heartfelt show has proved itself worthy of Hahn and the rest of its exemplary cast. Part of the tiny, small, little but expanding bunch of shows about LIFE and WOMEN, loosely united by Reese Witherspoon’s presence as executive producer, “Tiny Beautiful Things” appears poised to be Hahn’s mainstream breakthrough as a lead after her outings in more offbeat shows (Prime Video’s “I Love Dick” and HBO’s “Mrs. Fletcher”) failed to catch on.
Those shows were flawed but showcased Hahn’s unmatched ability to tuck a freak flag into a performance while staying relatable. The good news for fans who would follow Hahn anywhere (even “A Bad Moms Christmas”) is that even though the subject matter of “Tiny Beautiful Things” trends more universal than in those previous series — child-parent conflict, relationship woes, a loved one’s illness — the actress still gets to be a little weirdo.
Since both are rooted in Strayed’s life, “Tiny Beautiful Things” inevitably evokes the 2014 film adaptation of “Wild” starring Witherspoon. Although this show’s Strayed avatar is close to 50 and mother to a teen named Rae (Tanzyn Crawford), the signal event in her life remains the cancer diagnosis and death of her mother (Merritt Wever), just as it was for Witherspoon’s younger, inner demons-fighting, Pacific Crest Trail-hiking character.
Laura Dern, the mother in “Wild” and Witherspoon’s co-star on HBO’s “Big Little Lies,” is an executive producer of “Tiny Beautiful Things.” Completing the prestige women’s television circle is Liz Tigelaar, showrunner for Hulu’s “Little Fires Everywhere,” with Witherspoon and Kerry Washington, and now “Tiny Beautiful Things.”
The new show’s first few episodes feel too much like a rehash of “Wild” at times, as Clare flashes back to moments with her critically ill mom, and to her past sexual escapades and substance abuse. Although far more stable now, Clare is still prone to secret-keeping and ill-advised decisions. Unproductive as a writer, she’s working — and surreptitiously sleeping — at an assisted living facility after an argument leaves her estranged from Danny.
The clearest immediate difference from “Wild” is that instead of a single actor playing the protagonist in present day and flashback, as Witherspoon did, the magnetic Sarah Pidgeon (Prime Video’s “The Wilds”) plays the younger Clare. Pidgeon gets so much screen time she is almost a co-lead.
Matching Hahn in expression and intensity, Pidgeon looks freshly distraught each time younger Clare tries and fails to lessen her grief with a sexual encounter or night of drinking. Pidgeon lacks Hahn’s counterbalancing lightness, but Clare probably did, too, back then.
Wever’s take on the bohemian mother is more salt-of-the-Earth than Dern’s more free-spirited, ethereal approach. Wever is wonderful, as usual, as a warm, forgiving but gently no-nonsense woman whose absence would be felt acutely by anyone in her orbit.
While in the present, Clare attempts to dull the pain with an old school “oh, it’s on” sexual encounter with a handsome rideshare driver who gives her a beckoning look. But she cannot go through with it. She has gained too much wisdom and love, over the years, from her husband and daughter, even if they are currently upset with her.
Clare still makes the kind of impulsive moves we expect from a Hahn character, like visiting the home of a mean teen girl (bad idea) with whom Rae is besotted and proceeding to tell her off while being captured by a cell phone camera (worse idea). At least Clare’s initial instinct was more protective than self-destructive, despite her daughter treating Clare like an interloper in her own home.
Clare finds new purpose when an old friend suggests she take over the “Dear Sugar” column. Discovering her writing voice again, she doles out eloquent, insightful advice, inserting lessons from her own life as she actively tries to repair her relationships.
There is no greater relief, in life or on screen, than when a bratty teen stops being bratty. As “Tiny Beautiful Things” unfolds, Rae warms to Clare, and Crawford adds texture beyond Rae’s rebelliousness. Rae is funny, like her mom, and thoughtful and kind, like the grandmother she never met — and like Clare, too, at her core.
Clare rarely leads with kindness, but Hahn and Pidgeon give their shared character a baseline of emotional generosity most evident in scenes with Clare’s mom or child.
Men are secondary in these Witherspoon-sanctioned women’s stories, but Plair carves out some nice moments as the long-suffering husband who actually only suffers part of the time because Clare can be really cool. Even when he is mad at her, Danny seems slightly amused by his wife.
With its rampant flashback use, plus scenes of Clare the younger and older in the same shot at times, and voiceover of Clare’s advice to Sugar’s readers, the show becomes distractingly busy in the middle episodes of Season 1. But in the spirit of Sugar, we urge you to give it time because things do get better. By Episode 6, scattered storytelling elements coalesce and “Tiny Beautiful Things” even adds some hope to its heartbreak.
“Tiny Beautiful Things” premieres Friday, April 7, on Hulu.