Girlboss

Ms. Robertson convincingly portrays Sophia’s defensiveness and irritating energy, but there’s a pinched, limited quality to her performance. Sophia needs charisma, and Ms. Robertson hasn’t found it. The bigger issue may be the disconnect between the part of Girlboss that wants to be a character study and the part that needs to be a conventionally entertaining series.

Most of the time, Girlboss skates across the surface of things, spending time on customer-service antics, fashion-acquisition mishaps, Sophia’s relationship with her drummer boyfriend (Johnny Simmons), her bond with Annie, and her parental issues.

Created by Kay Cannon ("Pitch Perfect"), and counting Charlize Theron among its producers, Girlboss clearly wants to be another contemplation of that delicate period on the cusp of full-fledged adulthood, which is where "Girls" began and ended...While this Netflix show has the desire and outward trappings to be its spiritual heir in addressing that moment, Girlboss ultimately feels too loose, and thinly drawn, to close the deal.

Despite some genuinely charming moments, Girlboss has a flimsy narrative and gives some of Sophia’s personal relationships only a passing glance.

Girlboss does not seem to know what it wants to be when it grows up. And while the potential is thrilling, it’s messy, too.

It never realizes that perpetual adolescence is the show’s problem, not hers. Sophia needs reason to change for the series to develop, and Girlboss is far too content watching the business grow instead of its star.

For all of Girlboss‘ bluster, the real problem isn’t that Sophia is unlikeable, it’s that she’s uninteresting. Hardly fleshed out beyond a line drawing of a devil-may-care rebel who hardly blinks at the idea of raiding a dead woman’s closet for vintage goodies, she’s a terribly wobbly center for an already uncentered show.