Solos

Each story from showrunner David Weil is a stand-alone miniature film, and some are more effective than others.

Aduba's episode stands out among the first four episodes of "Solos," which collectively illustrate how difficult it is to pull off single-character drama on-screen.

It’s all very well-executed but for a show that’s supposed to be about human connection, it left me a bit cold.

This is an anthology series, so there are highs and lows between episodes (which often have secret links between them – keep an eye out for those) and it’s likely that viewers will have their own favourites.

No one embarrasses themselves. And some of the actors even hit a few grace notes within their 30 minutes. But Solos left me imagining what it could have been, rather than savoring what it is.

Not all of the performances — or, in some cases, their setups — are created equal. ... The strongest episodes are those in which the writing and acting seamlessly coalesce, allowing each to shine without beating the audience over the head with a larger message.

Much like its underwhelming episodes, "Solos" feels like a TV show that will flicker and then fade. There's simply not enough memorable about it.

An ensemble series of monologues on the theme of loneliness that, rather than resonating in this particular time, feel stiff and flat.

Often, half an hour’s not long enough, but sometimes it’s too much.

The series allows eight talented performers to play in a near future with advancing technology (insert “Black Mirror” reference here), where they’re tasked with delivering monologues that range from decent to extremely clunky.

Occasionally, the acting compensates for the writing’s stodgy archness. ... These stories need another 10 minutes at least, for the endings to be more than abrupt dead stops or agonisingly pat twists, and for the glimmers of fine work to mature into something solid and profound, rather than sententious ick.

The performances in Solos would have really worked well on stage. But on TV, even the sharp performances can’t make up for lack of action or story propulsion. There’s a reason why monologuing rarely translates well to film or TV, and Solos shows why.

The series instantly dates itself with its monologues and it’s doubtful fans will watch more than one episode considering there’s no actual plot.

Every idea here feels superficially confronted. Nothing feels like insight, only constant melodrama that barely connects to modern or future concerns. Other than the occasional acting choice (by Beharie or Aduba, particularly), everything here is predictable, bland, and unrealistic. And so “Solos” verges from just misguided into insulting, pushing buttons in the most uninteresting way to get a response—it takes a special kind of nerve to use dying parents to provoke an emotional response in the first two episodes of an anthology series.