I Hate Suzie

As well as wit by the bucketload and a searching intelligence informing the whole, the series has the thrilling confidence of a collaboration between people who trust each other implicitly and, secure in that knowledge, have been able to give the best of themselves to us. It’s a wild ride that feels like an absolute gift.

I Hate Suzie is a glorious mess of ideas, a potent, fizzing monument to the creativity of its makers. Piper will steal the plaudits, and she is magnificent, the camera hugging her face, making it alternately beautiful and grotesque, as we live inside her unravelling mind. However, it is far from a one-woman show, with Ings superb as the scowling, wronged, feckless Cob and Leila Farzad stealing scenes as Suzie’s long-suffering agent. Prebble’s script is typically sharp, occasionally reaching Succession-like heights of jet-black satire.

Above all, I Hate Suzie is a masterclass in tone. ... I Hate Suzie is ambitious, thorny, darkly humorous, and incredibly charming—a portrait of vulnerability that bewitches not by prettifying itself, or making itself ugly, but instead with stark, unfiltered honesty. Suzie is not always the hero of this story—the title indicates she’s sometimes her own worst enemy—but the show’s dedication to her range of being is what ends up making I Hate Suzie so lovable.

At each point in the season when Suzie is faced with a pivotal decision, part of what makes “I Hate Suzie” fascinating is that both paths forward for her seem plausible. For every self-destructive leaning, there’s an equally viable route that won’t erase her past mistakes altogether, but at least will be a step towards alleviating the damage they’ve caused. That this show can present both options and still generate understanding for Suzie — regardless of where she goes next — is an effective trick to pull off.

“I Hate Suzie” has a strange, strong flavor, a briny funk with a surprising undercurrent of sweetness, like Scandinavian licorice. At first, I was repulsed. Then dislike turned to craving. ... But it is Piper’s raw, comical performance as a not so smart woman on the verge that stands out.

The first episode lags ever so slightly towards the end, once the Petersons are in Paris and Albie runs off to do teenage boy things, leaving his parents alone with each other again. But this is classic Sunday night viewing all the same: funny and touching and acutely observed.

Piper has a rare gift for eliciting sympathy, even as Pickles keeps making new mistakes in her effort to disguise the old ones. What emerges is a black-comedy-horror about female friendship, modern fame, and the impossibility of true privacy in a world where everyone has an online video camera in their pockets.

The first episode of I Hate Suzie was an effective exercise in seeing a person’s life fall apart around them in short order. But we’re really intrigued with seeing Piper’s interpretation of how Suzie tries to put the pieces back together.

You might squirm but will never hate the excellent Piper, as Suzie careens from self-pity to self-disgust in a surreal blur of debauched despair. [23 Nov - 6 Dec 2020, p.11]