TV Review – The Hollywood Reporter
You can assume that a gift for looking into the future would make dating easier: You can avoid the urge for time and heartache by investing in flirtations that are destined to go nowhere, or double down in difficult situations with full confidence that your efforts will pay off. According to Maggie, you are wrong. Hulus’ half-hour centers on a chipper, but emotionally reserved 30-something psychic (Rebecca Rittenhouse), whose glimpse of a potential future with a sweet guy named Ben (David Del Rio) only complicates her love life – especially when Ben moves into it the other half of her duplex with his high school girlfriend, Jessie (Chloe Bridges).
However, it does not take a fortune teller to imagine the abuses that follow Maggiehis amiable tone lands closer sympathetically than irresistibly. To put it in terms, its looking-for-love heroine can understand: This series is a nice summer party, not a love once in a lifetime.
The bottom line
Not a once-in-a-lifetime love, but a nice weekend.
Despite its magical premise, Maggie leans less towards Harry Potter or the time traveler’s wife than Friends if Phoebe’s psychic powers were confirmed. Or maybe a more accurate comparison would be How I met your mother, with Maggie’s visions taking the place of Future Ted’s sage tale. As with that series, the protagonist’s romantic fate serves as the setting for a sunny hangout comedy that addresses the challenges of young (ish) adulthood, and emphasizes the zigzag journey across the destination – while trying to remind ourselves that we is on your way to a specific, magnificent, happy destination, so do not worry.
And much like in How I met your mother, the romance angle can be both a draw and a draw. Rittenhouse and Del Rio share a pleasant chemistry that makes it easy to imagine the two together in the long run, although one lacks the urgent sexual tension that would make their will-they-do-not-want a truly dreamy affair. More amusing is the unwavering affection between Ben’s cramped sister Amy (Angelique Cabral) and her more relaxed partner, Dave (Leonardo Nam), who have been inseparable ever since they literally crashed into each other on Burning Man, and who are so in love. of each other, they can not even work on their wedding vows without reducing themselves to hulk.
On the other hand, it can be hard to ignore the squeaks in the plot machines that keep Maggie and Ben apart. They do a special disservice to Jessie, referring to the role of a human obstacle whose anodyne appeal at some point is compared to ketchup. Maybe the authors (led by creators Maggie Mull and Justin Adler) are careful not to make the audience fall too much in love with her, so that we do not take her side when Maggie tries to take her husband, or maybe they simply do not was interested in meat. out a character they do not plan to keep for too many future seasons.
Actual, Maggie proves most interesting when it is not focused on love at all, or at least not the romantic type. Its richest and most rewarding relationship is between Maggie and her childhood BFF, Lou. In part, this is because Nichole Sakura (Superstore) is blessed with the lively presence and precise comic timing to get her character in focus several episodes before anyone else does; Lou is the only one who feels finished after the jump, and the premiere clicks into place only with her introduction.
But it’s also because their friendship feels embodied, in a way so few of the others do. It’s not just that Maggie and Lou go far back to high school, as we see in an installment that flashes back to the girls’ senior ball. It is that none of them seem more themselves than when they are together. In one scene, the outgoing Bugles put on their fingertips to clap like claws. It’s silly and totally pointless from a plot perspective, and it’s the funniest and most authentic moment of the whole season.
When it comes to Maggieits most unusual twist: While the series includes a handful of storylines about how and why Maggie’s powers, or about her place in a larger community of psychics – which includes her diet-obsessed mentor, Angel (Ray Ford), and her teenager who wanted to be a mentee, Abby (Arica Himmel) – her abilities function largely as a sweet twist on more earthy and familiar stories about anxiety in young adulthood. Her visions, which are accurate but often incomplete, confuse as much as they make clear. She can get a look at herself when cooing over a baby, but no context about who her baby it may be, and then spend the rest of the episode frantically trying to see more of the future so she can figure it out.
From time to time, Maggie regrets how out of place her gifts make her feel, and not without reason: Dates reject her gift as a delusion, acquaintances get annoyed at her well-meaning advice, and her loving friends can only go so far as to understand her unique experiences. But Maggie’s journey is ultimately one of discovering that she is more like the rest of us than she realizes. As anyone who has ever been in a clearly doomed relationship or fallen in love at first sight can confirm, ignorance has its limits as a shield against vulnerability or insecurity or even heartache. The only way out of your 30s is through – even for psychics who know exactly what’s coming next.