Easy

Easy, which debuted last year, was [one] of the best shows that almost nobody seemed to be watching. Season two, which dropped today, will likely earn the same dubious compliment. That’s too bad, because it’s just as appealing and a bit sharper overall.

Swanberg is a poet not only of conversation, but of gestures; for all the talk in this season, it’s the physical moments, encapsulations of currents which words are inadequate to express, that truly haunt, illuminating the challenge and potential futility of communion.

For as easy as it would be to get lost in the look and feel of the new series, Swanberg has a lot to say with Easy. Some arguments may be more compelling than others, and Easy itself is distinctly understated in almost every regard (much like its setting).

The themes and situations Swanberg and co. explore are so specific and relatable they sting.

And yet one wishes that Swanberg had tried a bit harder to get out of his intimate, meandering comfort zone. It would be interesting to see what Swanberg would produce if he gave himself a more difficult challenge.

The truth is, some of these folks and what they do simply aren’t all that interesting. Easy works best as a specific homage to a certain kind of person in Chicago, a large city built on a patchwork of neighborhoods informed by entrenched cultures and economic statuses.

Easy stumbles, again and again. It’s smug where “High Maintenance” is humble. It’s formless where “High Maintenance” is graceful. It’s twee instead of funny, with a misplaced confidence that all human behavior is worth watching.