Jessica (Megan Stalter, “Hacks“) is an open book from the moment we meet her, raging and punching holes through windows. Reeling from a bad breakup where her ex proceeded to move on too fast and too soon with a new influencer girlfriend, she’s trying to get a hold of who she is. Throughout the ten-episode season, “Too Much” follows that journey as she finds new love, new experiences, and new ways in which to embody and express her purest self. More often than not, the series is a success. Dunham’s series is aided by the tremendous, lived-in chemistry of the two leads and a delicate, endearing performance from Will Sharpe (“A Real Pain.”) 
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Marking her return to television, “Girls” creator Lena Dunham teams up with her husband, Luis Felber, for this introspective, often charming, twist on the romantic comedy for Netflix. Following her breakup, Jessica moved from New York City to London for her job. It’s there where she meets the enigmatic Felix (Sharpe), a man with more secrets than he first lets on. While Jessica wears her heart on her sleeve – boldly and without compromise – Felix keeps his emotions shuttered and close to the chest, regardless of their easy intimacy, mutual affection, and attraction. 
There’s no escaping Dunham’s touch here – Jessica herself is a seeming insert for Dunham. Fitting, considering the series is semi-autobiographical in dealing with Dunham and Felber’s coupling. The writing is introspective, honed in on volatile emotions and the inherent messiness of being alive and falling in love and, more than just that, what it means to stay in a relationship. To put in the work beyond our self-interests and desires. 
Both Jessica and Felix are running from parts of themselves that, at least at first, they’d rather mask or disassociate from. In Jessica’s case, it comes in the form of her belittling ex-boyfriend, Zev (Michael Zegen). To cope with her justified anger, she leaves recorded videos for his new girlfriend, Wendy (Emily Ratajkowski). Some of the best writing in the series comes in an episode that details the slow breakdown of Jessica and Zev’s relationship. He never calls her “too much,” but he doesn’t have to. Instead, he criticizes her clothes, delivering backhanded insults that her beauty doesn’t need to be defined by loud clothing. Just because she doesn’t look like a model doesn’t mean she isn’t beautiful. 
He harps on her music taste and diminishes her interests. It’s an excellent, layered depiction of a toxic relationship where each party slowly realizes their unhappiness, with Zev instigating and picking rather than pulling the plug. Too cowardly to own his lack of interest. 
Felix’s trauma and backstory, too, are handled with a deft and graceful hand. Episode 7, “Terms of Resentment,” approaches his childhood like a ghost story. As he visits his own family home, he crosses paths with the visage of his child self, barred from rooms where the trauma he endured was inflicted on him. This subdued direction by Dunham elevates his prickly nature, unfurling until all of his past comments and asides make more sense in retrospect. 
But the real magic of the story comes in the central romance between Jessica and Felix. The two’s chemistry is undeniable and tactile. There’s heat between them. Episode 3, “Ignore Sunrise,” is the series highlight. The two spend the night getting to know one another, existing primarily within the four walls of Jessica’s bedroom, as they have sex, talk, flirt, have more sex, and learn about the details that enrich them as individuals and draw them together. The cozy familiarity of these moments makes it difficult to tear us away, so locked in on their vulnerabilities, desires, and flirtations. 
It’s precisely what we want from romantic comedies. Stalter and Sharpe are so terrific together that it makes any of their other exploits less interesting. Though any scene involving Jessica’s family, including Dunham as her sister, Rita Wilson as her mom, and Rhea Perlman as her grandmother, is delightful. They serve as nice reminders of Dunham’s own naturalism and allow these powerhouse women to play off one another. 
But outside of her family, the supporting characters – and there are a lot of them – suffer. They’re too underutilized and therefore underrealized when the series tries to plant us in their world. Richard E. Grant and Naomi Watts are hilarious as Jessica’s boss and his wife. But their scenes feel like little more than an excuse to highlight their excellence. It doesn’t add to the plot or the worldbuilding. 
Sharpe is superb as Felix, delivering a quietly wounded character who hasn’t lost his wit or bite. But the friends he surrounds himself with, including a group of women all named Polly who may or may not all be exes, don’t always land. A strong ensemble can be important, but only if the strength reaches beyond the acquired talent. Otherwise, it’s just a lot of talented people onscreen together. The ensemble is impressive, but none of the characters beyond Jessica’s family are memorable. 
However, the biggest stumble of “Too Much,” which is, altogether, lovely, is Stalter’s Jessica. Half of the time, Stalter is terrific. She possesses an easy warmth and charisma that makes her endlessly watchable. But when the character leans into big, broad emotions, it’s hard to distinguish when she’s playing for laughs and when she’s playing for more. There’s a lack of consistency in the character that works in theory but isn’t executed with the necessary precision. 
Clearly, there’s worth in Jessica’s inability to bottle her emotions. Here’s a character who is shameless, fearless even, in being forthcoming with everything she feels, ever. And that refusal to withhold builds to some incredible tension between her and Felix. But what the story is trying to say and be about doesn’t always marry seamlessly with how it’s being portrayed. 
That said, it’s so enjoyable on the whole that it’s only slightly distracting. The strongest aspect of “Too Much” is the writing and the painful truths about relationships. Painful, without forgetting the genuine love festering between them. The series understands that we’re so often our own worst enemies when it comes to relationships. Jessica and Felix are polar opposites in their approaches to life, but they come together and adore one another.
These complexities and the way the series takes a compassionate and playful yet no less sharp a scalpel to them is what makes the series engaging. It’s not just that it “gets it.” It’s not just that it wields its observational and realistic writing to create a fully realized, work-in-progress couple. The strength is in its ability to withhold judgment. “Too Much” allows the characters to grow and exist through their love for another. They’re messy, complicated, and burdened with baggage, but it doesn’t lessen the sweetness of the love story at the core. 
Playful and endearing, the series is a strong return for Dunham. Anchored by a terrific romance, an off-kilter yet charismatic performance from Sharpe, and Stalter’s comedic timing, the series does rom-coms right. [B]
“Too Much” is available to stream now on Netflix.