Atanaria
Apple TV+’s Shrinking aims to blend the irreverence of comedy with the emotional weight of grief and therapy, delivering a heartfelt exploration of healing and connection. Created by Brett Goldstein, Bill Lawrence, and Jason Segel—some of the minds behind the much-loved Ted Lasso—the show doesn’t immediately hit the high notes of its predecessor. Yet, as it finds its stride, Shrinking grows into a compelling and highly enjoyable watch that is equal parts funny, touching, and occasionally absurd.
The premise revolves around Jimmy (played by Segel), a therapist reeling from the loss of his wife. When we meet him in the opening episode, Jimmy is at rock bottom: hosting wild, self-destructive pool parties and neglecting his teenage daughter, Alice (Lukita Maxwell). His long-suffering neighbor Liz (Christa Miller), who has stepped in as a pseudo-parent to Alice, finally intervenes, pushing Jimmy to confront his actions. This opening is a little jarring, as Jimmy’s descent into grief-induced chaos feels over-the-top and risks alienating the audience. Despite Segel’s natural charisma, it takes a moment for viewers to warm up to him.
However, once the show moves past this setup and Jimmy begins re-engaging with his clients and life, Shrinking begins to shine. The therapy sessions—central to the show’s narrative—serve as a creative playground for both humor and character development. Frustrated by the slow pace of traditional therapy, Jimmy decides to throw caution (and professional ethics) to the wind. He becomes a “psychological vigilante,” urging his clients to take drastic actions. In one memorable moment, he flat-out tells a patient to leave her abusive husband. With another, a lonely cynic, he offers friendship and a coffee outing. Jimmy even takes Sean (Luke Tennie), a PTSD-afflicted veteran attending court-mandated anger management sessions, to a boxing gym—a bold move that eventually leads to Sean moving into Jimmy’s pool house.
This unorthodox approach stretches believability, but it’s part of the show’s charm. Shrinking doesn’t aim for realism as much as it seeks to explore how flawed, grieving people try to help each other heal. As Jimmy steps into the messiness of his clients’ lives, he also begins to mend his relationship with Alice, guided by the begrudging wisdom of his colleagues and friends.
The cast is the show’s greatest strength. Jessica Williams is a standout as Gaby, Jimmy’s colleague and the best friend of his late wife. Williams brings infectious energy to the role, delivering witty one-liners and grounding the story with her nuanced portrayal of a woman balancing humor with her own unresolved grief. Christa Miller’s Liz is a delightful mix of snark and maternal instinct, while Luke Tennie’s Sean provides a thoughtful exploration of trauma and resilience.
However, the heart of the show is Harrison Ford as Paul, Jimmy’s grumpy, no-nonsense boss. In only his second-ever TV role, Ford reminds us of his immense range, combining gravitas with a sharp comedic edge. His dry, acerbic delivery is the perfect counterbalance to the show’s more sentimental moments. Whether he’s dismissing Jimmy’s harebrained schemes or delivering zingers with deadpan precision, Ford steals every scene he’s in. A subplot involving Paul experimenting with edibles offers some of the series’ funniest moments, proving that even at 80, Ford is as compelling and versatile as ever.
Tonally, Shrinking attempts to strike a balance between comedy and drama, much like Ted Lasso. While it doesn’t always succeed—some plot points stretch credulity, and the show occasionally leans too heavily on schmaltz—its sincerity and strong performances make it easy to forgive these shortcomings. There’s a warmth and humanity in the way it portrays flawed people trying their best, even if they fail along the way.
As the series progresses, Shrinking asks its audience a key question: Can you find humor in pain? For some, the show’s therapeutic framework and emotional depth will resonate deeply. For others, the somewhat far-fetched scenarios might require a suspension of disbelief. But for those willing to stick around, Shrinking offers a richly rewarding experience, blending laugh-out-loud comedy with moments of genuine emotional insight.
In the end, Shrinking is about connection: between therapist and patient, parent and child, and colleagues turned into makeshift family. It may not be as instantly lovable as Ted Lasso, but it carves out its own space as a clever, touching comedy. And if nothing else, watching Harrison Ford deliver a vulva joke or navigate a high-on-edibles moment is worth the price of admission alone.
