Divorce (2016)

It’s hard to see what Frances saw in Robert that made her love him at some point, which, along with some crazy incidents, gives Divorce the sheen of absurd, heightened reality as opposed to a show that feels real.

Divorce is not as dewy-eyed as its forebear, not as fresh in its material, and in its first outings, not as consistently funny. But it can be a caustic pleasure, a chaser, heavy on the bitters, to Carrie’s fruity cosmo.

Divorce is a smarter and more ambitious show than that and it wants to soak in the emotions, which is more admirable than watchable (especially because Parker is the one marinating in the sadness, not getting many of the funny or withering lines).

Though the central relationship is captivating, Divorce makes missteps with its comedy.

Divorce makes you feel almost nothing. It’s a shallow bore, and not even the flailing efforts of its stars make it interesting.

This show details the death of a marriage by a thousand cuts, a few hundred insults and a bag of clothes thrown in the trash. Maybe that’s your appointment TV. I’d rather binge watch root canal videos on YouTube.

The major characters, one and all, are extremely well acted, but the winter of their middle-age discontent produces a comedy that leaves the viewer a little cold.

It would seem that Horgan has a fixation on anxiety-inducing titles, but “Catastrophe” has an upbeat pulse that permeates its humor that is sorely lacking in Divorce. ... [The] best scenes in Divorce aren’t carried by Parker, which is a shame and an error, considering her role as the center of this off-kilter miniature galaxy. Instead, Church generates most of the comedy in the show’s opening episodes, which is terrific.

Parker’s performance in Divorce, especially in the early episodes, before she’s given a few spazzy speeches, is about as close to a dramatic one as is possible for appearing in a comedy. Her commitment to keeping everything tamped down unsettles a series in which everyone else is playing a game of outsized emotional charades.

The humor in Divorce is so bleak and the characters are so toxic that you may crave a "Silkwood" shower afterward.That's not to say there aren't funny lines or excellent performances by the core cast of Parker, Haden Church, and Molly Shannon and Tracy Letts as the awful friends whose mutual meltdown at a party sparks Parker's Frances to ask for a divorce. Trouble is, they feel like performances from different shows.

The show aims for emotional realism one minute, farce the next, and sitcom-like goofing the next, and it all never quite hangs together naturally.

Divorce in the early going is not just dark but also slow and mopey--sometimes downright depressing.

This is a star vehicle determined to put us on the side of that star, despite the horrible things she sometimes says and does. And the only way to do that is to make Robert a buffoon, and everyone else unbearable.

Parker’s good, but otherwise Divorce is sullen and sodden.

As it stands, the series is stuck in neutral, between caring about what happens to these people and wanting to see them tear each other to shreds for sport.

The first six episodes of the show have their moments (and at least an ever-present Molly Shannon-slash-Sarah Jessica Parker gal pal angle), but it’s mostly a downward spiral of negativity and regret that could have been a powerhouse dramedy, but lacks a deft of emotion (or humor) to make the ennui worth it.

Almost everything about the show feels clunky, even forced.

Parker and Church are both solid actors, but there’s never any sense that Frances and Robert ever had any love or passion for each other, even at some point in the past. Every time they reminisce about their former life together, it rings false.