TV Review: Russian Doll Loops With Life And Death

Watching Russian Doll, I did not know what to expect. A young woman, celebrating her 36th birthday, consistently dies; only to wake up and start the day over. Believe it or not, the whole “dying and coming back to life” premise is not new, even to comedy. Still, Russian Doll shines because it shows comedy is based in tragedy.

You may think the tragedy of Russian Doll is that Nadia (played magnetically by Natasha Lyonne) keeps on, literally, dying in the most outlandish and repetitive ways. Yet, the real tragedy of Russian Doll is that Nadia does not need to, literally, fall down the stairs 20 million times in a row to feel like she has already been thrown down one. Lyonne makes Nadia the titular, snarky symbol of the young person that is looking at their life and seeing no plan has ever come to fruition, and that, perhaps, their past traumas and choices really did affect their future and perceptions.

I can’t really tell you what “age” it happens because it might not be tied to age as much as a moment, but there comes a time when you look at your life and say, “How did this happen?” Being stuck in a time loop, certainly, has Nadia asking this question, but as the series progresses, she realizes avoiding the physicality of death is not enough to break this fatal, time loop “curse” that is upon her. In a world that LOVES the old adage “dreams come true,” Russian Doll lives on the phrase “death happens.” Still, again, it is not just literal death. She is not just freaking out because she does not want to be hit by a taxi again; Nadia is also realizing that how her mind works, especially when absorbing past traumas might play a role in why she is “dying.” 

Russian Doll takes the old, sappy Disney question that pops up in its films like “Have you ever lived?” and, actually, asks its heroine if she has lived her life. In the beginning, Nadia averts the responsibility of relationships, in both giving your own and caring for the heart of another, better than she dodges cabs, but then she meets Alan. Played by Charlie Bennett, Alan holds such a relatable depression. His growing kinship with Nadia, in trying to figure out why he, too, is dying in a loop, helps him become an example of another type of numbness: delusion.

While Nadia avoids love, Alan deludes it; not fully realizing what he feels or what others feel about him. As they both become protective over the other, they go beyond romantic tropes of a “man and woman.” They become two human beings genuinely learning that self-care is the key to caring about others, and they have not done either in a really long time. It is oddly the most adult conclusion I have ever seen in a very dark but hilarious comedy. Thus, “the funny” of Russian Doll is not simply in its ghastly, lurid deaths, but in the epiphanies of how one should “live.”

Created by Leslye Headland, Natasha Lyonne, and Amy Poehler, Russian Doll  is a complete success. It panders to people’s natural attraction to gloom and click-baiting, grim tales of humanity to, actually, analyze why we close ourselves off from investing in joy: both self and relationship wise. Thus, by the end of the series, you are in love with these two characters, and the crazy New Yorkers they call friends/ passers-by, i.e. Greta Lee’s Maxine. Moreover, you become invested in seeing how they grow as people because they symbolize how we grow, as well. How we connect to others is a reflection of how we connect to ourselves, and, like a Russian Doll, we have to keep undoing the spiritual layers of ourselves until we find the core reason we have lost our reason.Russian Doll Premieres On Netflix February 1.