If it's weird for me to blog about a show that satirizes crafting on my blog that's mostly about crafting, then if nothing else, at least I'm consistent. Over the years, I've posted about the Portlandia Etsy spoof, the Whitney Cummings Etsy dig, and my own unwitting star spot on handmade goods roast site Regretsy. Which is my way of saying that I like laughing at myself and at people who laugh at themselves (and, okay, other people) too.
Enter Difficult People. This Amy Poehler-produced Hulu original comedy (2015-2017) follows best friend comedians Billy Epstein (Billy Eichner) and Julie Kessler (Julie Klausner) as they snarkily stumble through their mid-thirties and auditions in New York City. Both are Jewish; only Billy is gay. It's like a mashup of Seinfeld, Will and Grace, and Curb Your Enthusiasm -- only meaner. Indeed, in one episode, Billy and Julie describe themselves as a "homelier Will and Grace." They're the kind of comedians who sacrifice everything (Billy's apartment is a shoebox that he Airbnbs to make extra cash) to claw their way into casting calls even though they -- and we -- know they'll never make it. Not that that really matters, their dreams -- and the show -- being about the journey.
Billy's day job is waiting tables at a quirky café; Julie's is writing reality show episode recaps. During court-appointed community service for stealing flowers from an Alice in Wonderland memorial, Julie teaches recap writing to inmates and imparts this pearl: "Show recaps aren't about the show. They're about you." I like this, probably because it so closely parallels one of my favorite personal aphorisms: TV is always there for you, but you don't have to be there for (the people inside the) TV. Romance-wise, Billy is always looking for love -- or at least his next hookup -- and Julie has a live-in boyfriend, the servile and long-suffering Arthur (James Urbaniak), who wears a bowtie and works for PBS. Impervious to Julie's ingratitude (Where's dinner?!), affable Artie's only crime isn't even his but Urbaniak's, as he played the foot fetish shoe salesman who gave Charlotte a free pair of designer sandals on Sex and the City. But then again, it's hard to blame Julie for haranguing Artie too much considering her monster mother, Marilyn (Andrea Martin). Despite being a psychologist, this pint-sized narcissist manipulates Julie into doing her bidding, all while criticizing her appearance, boyfriend, and aspirations. Of course, Marilyn also gives Julie money. Because PBS and Real Housewives rants don't pay the bills.
One of the things that bonds Julie and Billy -- other than their hard-bitten humor and hatred of all and sundry -- is their constant need for attention. In one episode, Billy is all set to send former Monkee Micky Dolenz packing when the allegedly ailing entertainer begs him to produce his one-man show. But then Dolenz goes on about how much he admires Billy, and Billy caves: "I have no problem walking away from a dying man, but not a dying fan." Because that's the thing about this duo (Billy and Julie, not Billy and Micky). Despite their prickly, don't-mess-with-me personas, their eager-to-please, theater kid self absorption makes them easy prey for any con man with a kind word.
Nevertheless, at one point, Julie becomes so discouraged by the comedy rat race that she chucks it all to open a shop on Etsy. Even though she refers to Etsy as a cult. (Yes, finally, the promised crafting connection!) Her craft? Wish bags for Midwesterners. Don't ask me what a wish bag is, because I don't know, and neither does Julie. But they sell like hotcakes, and Julie discovers that she prefers spending her days surrounded by things instead of people.
Same, Julie, same.
Still, I don't think I need to tell you that this life hack turns out to be as ironclad as those wish bags. Bitter or not, Julie's got to get back up on that stage. Because only trouble is interesting, and the show -- or in this case, showbiz -- must go on.
With witty one-liners, a galaxy of guest stars (Tina Fey! John Mulaney! Amy Sedaris!), and the kind of misanthropic humor that can thrive only on a sitcom full of eccentric, dysfunctional, and codependent heart, Difficult People is easy to love.