The Melancholy Men of Television

Source: Apple TV, used with permission for editorial purposes

Some critics panned the third season of Ted Lasso because it wasn't as funny as it used to be. It wasn’t. It meandered into side stories about its excellent women, but those were clumsy and out of touch, as though a male writer somewhere said, “Hey, wait, we need to write about women” but had no idea how to do it. When the series focused on its male characters, what it saw wasn't always funny, but it was real. Ted, played by series creator and writer Jason Sudeikis, finally faces his feelings about his separation from his wife and son—he is lost and lonely, even though he is surrounded by a horde of new friends. And Nathan (Nick Mohammed), the Wonder Kid, has his dream job but is miserable. He misses the camaraderie of his old teammates. The great job is, ultimately, empty. Roy Kent fumbles his relationship with Keeley because the whole idea of love totally bewilders him.

They are melancholy men.

In Shrinking, therapist Jimmy (Jason Segel) avoids dealing with his grief over the death of his wife by personally intervening in his clients’ lives, an unethical, illogical, and ultimately unsuccessful approach. Throughout the series, he inches closer to acknowledging his grief. The series is engaging, often funny, and often sad. Written by Brett Goldstein, who plays Roy Kent on Ted Lasso, it is anchored by melancholy men. Even Harrison Ford throws off his archeology cape to become Jimmy’s colleague, who tries to reconnect with his estranged daughter.

And then there’s Rob Lowe in Unstable, grieving the death of his wife; his real-life son, John Owen Lowe, tries to provide stability, even though he also lost his mother. The two Lowes created the show and it takes advantage of their own oddball family dynamics.

These shows follow the poignant After Life, in which Tony, played by series creator Ricky Gervais, spends six seasons showing the depth of grief over the loss of his wife. He takes chances that would have been foreign to him before his wife’s death, fully living a life he doesn't want to live alone. The finale was a three-hanky event.

Why so many shows about the loss of a wife?

What’s with all these melancholy men? Why are so many TV men grappling with their emotions in public? A better question might be: Why is this unusual? Masculinity has long been paired with strength and power, so showing vulnerability can be daunting. Good for the men who are now pushing against this stereotype. But why do so many of these shows focus on the loss of a wife? And why are there so many of them?

Partly it’s because television, in general, is a game of follow-the-leader. One show succeeds, so others mimic it. In this case, Gervais’ After Life led the way, with a 2019 initial release. Ted Lasso came in 2020, Shrinking and Unstable in 2023. The creators were all facing middle age, and midlife is a time when disruptions challenge the best of us—divorce, illness, death, job loss, and empty nesting.

A man grappling with the loss of a wife just makes good TV. It’s a safe way to be vulnerable. That these shows are all anchored by comedians is especially telling, as those in tune with comedy are usually those in tune with their culture. Comedy has always coexisted with tragedy, so this moment of melancholy TV offers insight into where we are as humans in a post-pandemic, climate-changing, politically toxic world. We're grieving the loss of our sense of community, of safety and comfort. These men are telling us that, if we’re stuck with this grief, let's look at it, let's see who we've become under the weight of our loss. They show us it can feel good to laugh about it. And, also, cry.