Three Women

There is plenty more sexual violence in this show, but no one here is defined by the trauma they experience. Three Women instead focuses on how these women respond, their resilience, and the work they do to better their lives (and maybe—just maybe—those of the people around them).

Even after 10 episodes, both the author and her onscreen avatar are struggling to find a through line for each of these four tales. In hindsight, maybe just focusing on one would have worked better for TV. [Sep 2024, p.77]

Buried under all the plot contortions and surplus extensions of “Three Women” are many beautiful, moving observations. If only it was easier to see them.

Despite bold performances and sensitive directing that centers women’s subjective experiences of sex and their bodies, the show’s disjointed structure and flimsy frame narrative suggest that the book might not have been so ripe for TV after all.

Three Women might have worked better as an anthology, but in its current format, it has too many superfluous elements and not enough actual drama.

Gilpin adds some well-needed life to a series that is, at times, devoid of it. The transformation Lina goes through is enough to make this series feel worthwhile for a time, but each time she leaves the screen–and the other characters take her place–it feels as if the soul of “Three Women” is missing.

It’s a show that’s packed — overflowing? — with solid performances, plus one or two great ones, as well as one with earnest and valid observations on female agency, female desire and the power of female storytelling. But despite ample handholding throughout, Three Women only occasionally comes together on an episodic level, much less as a dramatically unified whole.