Creators are seizing opportunities to push the limits and subvert expectations now that Wholesome TV has reached its zenith. The genre has established itself as a staple in many households with viewers knowing they can count on its positive, everybody wins stories, but what happens when the script is flipped?
You win seven Emmys, of course! Ted Lasso, airing on Apple TV, has all the key elements of a Wholesome show and then some, making its extreme popularity a no-brainer. Its critical acclaim, however, lies more so in how it bends the restrictions of the genre while never breaking that constant flood of optimism. Fair warning, from here on out there will be spoilers for every show I discuss.
Ted Lasso begins with our overly-enthusiastic titular character (Jason Sudeikis) revealing he’s taken this job across the pond due to his deteriorating marriage. Viewers are promised from the start this won’t be just another entry in the genre, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t deliver a hell of a payoff.
There’s nothing Ted’s unceasing positivity can’t fix, or so the genre would have you believe. We see his marriage come to an end, but we’re comforted that it’s for the best. Then we learn the source of his eternal well of kindness as he shares the trauma of his father’s suicide and his constant battle to never lose someone in that way again. We’re assured Ted’s story will turn out fine, and as we head into season three that premise holds true. Ted functions as the embodiment of the Wholesome genre and carries us through the first season as we see rivals become friends, a team become a family, and his boss’s icy heart melt all under a barrage of his thoughtfulness and down-home Southern charm. The true test of Ted Lasso, however, lies in the arc of Nathan Shelley (Nick Mohammed).
Our first introduction to Nathan shows a terrified, shy man who is often bullied by the team. Ted notices, of course, and takes action by finding ways to break Nate out of his shell. Further interactions follow the expected route with the few deviations easily being dismissed as growing pains rather than red flags. Ted’s actions create an unintentionally negative but painfully real consequence of building a terrified man’s confidence without addressing any other issues. Nathan uses his newfound belief in himself to inflict the pain he feels on others, a direct parallel to Ted inflicting his positivity onto others. I use “inflicting,” because sometimes generic positivity isn’t always wanted or needed, which Ted learns in therapy with Dr. Sharon Fieldstone (Sarah Niles). By the time this lesson is learned, Nathan has already drowned in Ted’s sea of affirmations, completing his transformation into a nega-Ted.
Watching a character go from an introverted outsider into part of the “family” is a staple of the Wholesome genre. Ted Lasso subverts this by instead reversing Nate’s goal of helping the team to only helping himself, simultaneously adding an important layer of complexity to the consequences of Ted’s actions that cuts what would have been a cloying amount of wholesomeness, even for this genre. If Ted’s can-do attitude really could fix everything it would feel cheap. Having his philosophy fail so painfully with Nate balances the show in a way that keeps it Wholesome while also exploring heavier than usual topics.
On the fringes of the Wholesome genre exists another gem, How to with John Wilson on HBO. How to doesn’t appear to fit here at all. For starters, it’s a docuseries, not a sitcom, and it can often take a judgey, albeit hilarious, tone. However, these become pillars of what makes How to Wholesome. Mockumentaries are the progenitors of the genre, as we’ve already discussed, and continue to define the genre with the recent Abbott Elementary. As a docuseries, How to utilizes a well-known framework which then allows it to expand beyond the restrictions of a linear story or always doing sit-down professional interviews.
Each episode seeks to answer its title, like “How to Remember Your Dreams” or “How to Split the Check” and so on. But, as John Wilson guides us through the streets of New York and beyond, we end with more questions and almost no answers. And that’s the charm. Wilson’s commitment to the bit, no matter how bizarre, unlocks the neuroses of the people around him in unexpected ways. Wilson appears to genuinely listen to the people he interacts with and his unassuming demeanor provides a sense they won’t be judged for their responses. Thankfully, Wilson does not pretend to be a neutral party, allowing the viewer to just as honestly engage with what they’re seeing; such as my screaming aloud at everything that happened inside the TLC Tugger house. While the camera does a lot of the heavy lifting, assuming how much people love to talk about themselves, Wilson’s genuineness is met in kind and therein lies that human connection Wholesome TV promises.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the historical artifact the finale of season one will be, but the true hallmark of How To is its pilot episode, “How to Make Small Talk.” It begins with an irony-drenched veneer, but by the end of the episode Wilson manages to make small talk after a series of awkward encounters with the same man during spring break in Cancun. After finally finding a chance to sit down with him Wilson eventually shares about the recent death of a friend. His vulnerability is immediately met with his newfound friend, Chris, sharing the suicide of his own friend only a few weeks prior and the impact its had on him. They redirect to regular small talk promptly, but the moment sticks. Through Wilson we also bonded with someone on a level beyond small talk. How to gives the same sense of connection and emotional catharsis as other shows in the Wholesome genre with the added weight of being real. That’s not to say it’s always deep heartfelt moments (then it wouldn’t be funny or real), but when those moments do happen it feels all the stronger.
Our final show, nestled safely within the genre, sews together all its best qualities into a beautiful quilt of wholesome goodness. That’s right, Adult Swim’s Joe Pera Talks with You. Joe Pera is exactly what it says it is, a show about a mild-mannered middle school choir teacher in Michigan talking to you about his interests. I’ll admit, it took quite some convincing from my partner for me to give Joe Pera a try. It’s very slow-paced, and I expected some ironic twist or another to provide a beatdown of a punchline, but the other shoe never dropped. The humor is woven into the characters and setting so perfectly that watching it feels like floating down a lazy river rather than the rapids of other shows on Adult Swim. There are plenty of laugh out loud moments, (Conner O’Malley writes and acts in it after all), but the jokes come from what can only be described as a place of love. We’re laughing at the situations or the oddball nature of these characters, but we’re never laughing at them. Most of the time anyway. Pera’s gentle demeanor and quiet passion makes the world believable, and the relationships between friends and family feel genuine.
It’s difficult to pick any one episode that best highlights the calm, wholesome vibe of Joe Pera. I can’t go by which one makes me cry the most, because that narrows it down by maybe three episodes, nor by the funniest since the perfect egg-bite and the non-lethal flashlight bits are far from wholesome. That said, I think the heart of the show is in the fourth episode of the first season, “Joe Pera Shows You How to Dance.” It’s not the first episode I share to convince friends to watch, but it best encapsulates how the show views its characters with love and refrains from mean-spiritedness. I fully expected the introduction of Brad Cam (Brad Howe) to be that of a never-grew-out-of-highschool asshole, but they took it in the complete opposite direction and damn does it work. His confidence and energy lifts the whole episode allowing for a reserved Joe Pera to interact with an even more reserved Sarah Conner (Jo Firestone). We get to laugh at the awkwardness and the silly dances and that guitar tie, and more importantly we get to see the start of two main characters’ relationship.
These three shows provide the best example of how far the genre of Wholesome TV has come and where it will go, expanding the ways a T.V. show, even in only 11 minutes, can provide the emotional catharsis many viewers seek during these times. This beloved genre is in good hands with Ted Lasso directly referencing and flipping known tropes to deepen its themes, How to with John Wilson bringing in some much needed reality to remind us we can all experience the best (and sometimes scariest) life has to offer, and Joe Pera Talks with You defining the act of finding the wondrous in the mundane.
Rex Dayley is a lover of horror, comedy, and being perpetually horny-on-main. He’s not afraid to dive into the nitty-gritty of any film, and perhaps not afraid enough to share his grotesque and carnal joy at watching Willem Dafoe on a leash in The Lighthouse. Follow her on Twitter and Letterboxd for a front row seat at the debauchery.