The witty British sitcom It Gets Worse gets pretty good

Subsequent episodes rejigger the balance, giving spotlights to Abi and then Sam, and the second half of the season gives all three roughly equal attention. And while six 24-minute installments may not be quite long enough to fully grasp or fall in love with these characters, they’re certainly enough to establish a promising foundation. The show’s dips into social satire, along with its heavy emphases on sex and friendship, put it in conversation with Girls and Gen-Z descendants like I Love LA—but the dialogue is wittier than the latter show, equally raunchy but darker and more ironic. 

Reich hasn’t necessarily worked out all the kinks, especially when it comes to plot. The storylines largely hit the expected beats, as when Ethan spends the whole season crushing on Sam’s roommate of ambiguous sexuality, or when Abi stubbornly refuses to address some obvious realities about her relationship with Tom. The same goes for Sam’s season-long quest to win back her ex-girlfriend Zara (India Mullen) by hooking up with Tess (Safia Oakley-Green), who… also used to fool around with Zara. The contrivances start to pile up in predictable ways before long, especially during a sex party at the warehouse co-op where Zara and her anarchist friends live—and certain subplots don’t get nearly enough time to develop, like Sam’s strange friendship with the incel teen she tutors.

The show’s balance of comedy and drama also isn’t quite seamless yet, which comes out most clearly in the overly serious tones of Smith’s voiceover, where the celebrated author of White Teeth narrates the characters’ lives and internal conflicts. (“Dying is cliché. It is the most derivative and predictable thing a person can do,” begins one episode set at the funeral for an old uni friend.) Still, a few emotional beats do land with some oomph, especially when Sam’s life starts to unravel while crashing with her ex—or when Abi’s yearslong love for Tom prevents her from seeing what she really requires to feel happy and fulfilled in a relationship. All three of these characters sacrifice their dignity repeatedly in searching for social or sexual approval or financial security, and watching them make the wrong choices feels wincingly relatable.

“We’re not responsible for other people’s feelings,” Sam remarks at one point, clearly trying to deflect blame for something. “Is that what other people have been telling you?” an older man shoots back. In a way, the moment is a wake-up call, but It Gets Worse is refreshingly resistant to pat endings and easy growth arcs—after all, look at the title. By the end, the show suggests that change may only be possible for those really, really willing to work for it—and maybe not even them.

For the series, at least, change feels within reach. The season ends in a promising place, with setup for a sequel that better capitalizes on the characters’ potential and tests their ingrained neuroses in more challenging, nuanced ways. The ingredients are already in place, from the strong performers and chemistry to the sharp jokes and lived-in world. Growth may not be so easy for Ethan; for Reich, it seems all but assured.