Big hair. Rad moves. And outrageous alter egos. A comedy about the sisterhood that rocked the wrestling world.
Release date: June 29th on Netflix.
Spoilers: Please spoiler tag your discussions for two weeks.
Links:
Cast:
Alison Brie as Ruth "Zoya the Destroya" Wilder, Betty Gilpin as Debbie "Liberty Belle" Eagan, Marc Maron as Sam Sylvia
Britney Young as Carmen "Machu Picchu" Wade, Sydelle Noel as Cherry "Junkchain" Bang, Jackie Tohn as Melanie "Melrose" Rosen
Kate Nash as Rhonda "Britannica" Richardson, Britt Baron as Justine "Scab" Biagi, Kimmy Gatewood as Stacey "Ethel Rosenblatt" Beswick
Rebekka Johnson as Dawn "Edna Rosenblatt" Rivecca, Sunita Mani as Arthie "Beirut the Mad Bomber" Premkumar, Kia Stevens as Tammé "The Welfare Queen" Dawson
Gayle Rankin as Sheila "the She Wolf", Ellen Wong as Jenny "Fortune Cookie" Chey, Marianna Palka as Reggie "Vicky the Viking" Walsh
Chris Lowell as Sebastian "Bash" Howard, Annabella Sciorra as Rosalie Biagi, Wyatt Nash as Phil
Reviews:
Hollywood Reporter:
If ambition — or too much story — was the main problem with GLOW, then some of that is getting fixed in the second season. Series creators Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch did the best they could last season making GLOW a female-positive, feel-good series — and a good deal of that success felt cumulative deep into the season, based on the aforementioned cast appeal, plus some progress in the storyline. By then, Brie's character was slightly more likable (Ruth's unrelenting need for validation sometimes played less like a determined, unsuccessful actress never giving up and more like a person best avoided at parties — and that was before factoring in the cheating-on-her-best-friend angle). Maron's Sam was also less one-note in his grumpiness and debauchery, with the writers letting in enough warmth to make him human but not suddenly polished, happy or sociable.
Having watched seven of the 10 episodes of the second season, I still don't think there's enough time given to some of the supporting characters, but there's more familiarity and thus nuance to them when they are onscreen. And while the fictional show at the center of the series-within-a-series isn't progressive, and Sam's bang-it-out, give-the-people-what-they-want attitude led to racially insensitive wrestling personas, the show itself is written by a diverse and strongly female staff in firm control of what they are doing.
Vulture: (bit of light spoilers at the link)
That said, there are some missteps here and there. With an ensemble this large, certain characters inevitably get short shrift, but I would have especially liked to see more attention paid to Britney Young's Machu Picchu and Gayle Rankin's wonderfully odd Sheila the She Wolf. The majority of the season has great energy and sense of purpose, but it runs out of gas as it wraps up its story lines — the last couple of episodes also introduce a few romantic entanglements that feel a bit too sudden — and leaves an obvious opening for a season three. Overall, though, GLOW is the sort of Netflix offering that's tailor-made for summer. It's light enough to not feel like work, but substantive enough to satisfy one's craving for challenging, quality TV.
Empire:
The first season of GLOW was a hell of a lot of fun, a whirl of DayGlo Lycra and suplexes to disco hits. It had a set-up with endless potential: a group of women who want to be stars, but are ignored by Hollywood due to being an undesired colour/size/demeanour, get cast on an unpromising, cheapo ladies' wrestling TV show. They veer between embarrassment at the show's tackiness and offensive stereotypes and the joy of creating their own world. There were no duff characters and it was both campy and smart, but it was, for want of a better term, wrestling with where it was going. Narrative momentum was sluggish. Season 2 has no such issues. What was a good show is now great.
Promo photos:
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