One Mississippi

As with Notaro's deadpan affect, the show seems to be holding itself in reserve and refusing to engage, yet the impact--on both the serious and silly sides--ultimately lands just as sharply as one of the punchlines from Notaro's act. It's all easygoing until it's anything but.

Bold and darkly funny. [26 Sep 2016-2 Oct 2016, p.17]

Each cathartic confrontation near the end of the short but powerful season is meticulously earned, as is the weird sense of optimism that follows Tig around like the boxes of old clothes and mementos she can’t quite get rid of. The absorbing season finale is a fitting culmination of a show that is exceptionally assured in its debut season.

Getting to know these characters can be incredibly entertaining but, like the pets each keeps at arm’s length in their respective shows, they’re best experienced in limited doses.

It's at its best, perhaps, when showing the emotional complexities of family.

One Mississippi is true to her [Tig Notaro's] personality as a performer: It explores painful topics, but with intense empathy for both its characters and its viewers, as if holding their hands through its toughest moments.

Notaro keeps the show moving along with a lot of low-key funny observations while always allowing for moments of seriousness and even sadness to enter into the mix.

It is not a perfect series; episodes stall here and there, or swerve into unnecessary flights of fantasy or absurd narrative developments, but then a moment of quietly huge revelation blows the story onto a whole other plane.

A tender, occasionally funny, often moving entertainment about the grieving process.

Notaro is an appealing lead, if you like bone-dry humor and deadpan, which I do. She carries the show in her low-key way, and she, like the show itself, warms up a little bit more with each new episode.

One Mississippi is effectively quiet and understated in many of the ways that Transparent is demonstrative and confrontational, while both shows share an interest in family histories and personal pain.

Notaro, who survived a version of these events several years ago, has added tragedy and time to make the kind of comedy that feels both fresh and familiar. She's as appealing, and as low-key, an actress as she is a comedian.

One Mississippi has its flaws, but it goes further than any of Notaro’s previous work to show what it’s like to be that person.

There is more than enough room for every variety of comedy on TV today. The only requirement is that they be well made and engaging. That’s another item on the list One Mississippi can check off.

Even if One Mississippi doesn’t return for a second season, season one works beautifully as a muted story about what it means to come home and realize the person you once were, the person you thought you packed up in a box and stored away somewhere, is waiting right there for you to discover all over again.

The fantasy sequences featuring Tig’s late mother can be a bit cheesy, but they represent a depth of feeling that Better Things is still reaching for. Both shows follow Louie’s example well, even if they don’t have as unique an artistic vision just yet.

One Mississippi’s pace and tone are casual and languid, like Tig’s own radio stories, but it’s also similarly personal and surprisingly intimate.

One Mississippi is so much like everything else that it fails to stand out.