‘How to Die Alone’ Review: Natasha Rothwell’s Life-After-Almost-Death Hulu Dramedy Is a Warm, Funny Treat

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As a gamer who’s spent countless hours navigating the virtual world of New York City in games like Grand Theft Auto or The Sims, I can wholeheartedly say that Natasha Rothwell’s portrayal of Mel in Hulu’s How to Die Alone is nothing short of mesmerizing. It’s almost a problem because she’s so charming that it feels like she should have a ‘Game Over’ message popping up whenever she encounters an NPC (Non-Playable Character) in the real world, just to keep things balanced!

Natasha Rothwell is so charming in Hulu‘s How to Die Alone, it’s almost a problem.

The story’s core idea is that the main character, Mel, is largely isolated within this world, as she has no one to collect her from the hospital following a close call with death. This would appear more believable if the on-screen Mel, who is undeniably charming and well-regarded by both colleagues and clients in her role transporting passengers at New York’s JFK airport, were not so socially connected.

However, it’s somewhat comparable to criticizing the attractive lead character in a romantic comedy for being too stunningly handsome, when the storyline was already established – it might hold some truth, but it misses the essence of the discussion. Similarly to Mel, the Onyx Collective dramedy is both relatable and inspiring, and much like her, it offers an enjoyable experience that’s warm, humorous, and occasionally uplifting.

Initially, Mel, the character at the start of the series, doesn’t stand out much. She confides in her empathetic colleague Terrance (KeiLyn Durrel Jones) in the first episode, likening herself to Lizzo. Both are 35, overweight, and Black, sharing the same number of hours in a day. However, unlike Lizzo, Mel is broke, her family views her as a lost cause, her love life is a joke, and she’s terrified of flying – working in an airport only adds to her fear. It isn’t until a close call with a bizarre accident involving crab rangoon and flat-pack furniture that nearly claims her life that Mel finds the motivation to break free from her routine, aiming to transform herself into a braver, more daring, and improved version of herself.

Rothwell, both creator and character, offers a unique twist on the typical story of a New Yorker seeking direction. Unlike Mel who doubts her active role in life, the narrative firmly centers around her viewpoint, even venturing into imaginative scenes such as a dance in a hallway symbolizing a Percocet trip, or a karaoke performance transformed into a walk through a city frozen in jubilant festivity – providing Rothwell an opportunity to showcase her powerful and resonating voice.

Although How to Die Alone doesn’t strictly fall under the category of an ensemble comedy, it sets the stage for one quite effectively, with vibrant characters like Patti (Michelle McLeod), Mel’s Schrute-like office rival, and Shaun (Arkie Kandola) and DeShawn (Chris “CP” Powell), the amusing tarmac workers who never fail to provide witty yet foolish remarks. If the series gets renewed, it would be beneficial for it to continue drawing from this rich pool of supporting characters.

The airport provides an intriguing backdrop for workplace antics, as it’s both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Peeking behind the scenes with Mel and her coworkers is delightfully akin to being privy to a secret. I’m not implying that TSA or customs agents openly state their true purpose is anything other than preventing terrorism, but doesn’t it seem like they might sometimes see their roles as more about embarrassing people and advising them to buy new socks? Or perhaps preparing charcuterie platters from the numerous confiscated gourmet meats and cheeses? It certainly feels that way at times.

Initially, the beginning segments appear somewhat uneven due to the show’s attempt to combine broad humor, everyday observations, and heartfelt emotions. At times, it seems like the series transitions abruptly between these elements instead of seamlessly blending them into a harmonious tone. However, by episode five, when Mel encounters her critical brother (Bashir Salahuddin as Brian) and passive-resistant mother (Ellen Cleghorne as Beverly) during a heated Thanksgiving gathering, the show manages to strike a balance that allows it to elicit both genuine empathy and hearty laughter from an argument that climaxes with someone exclaiming, “The Lion King is a masterpiece of American animation!!!

Mel’s ambition for growth permeates every aspect of her existence. She signs up for a professional development course at work. She reevaluates her friendship with Rory, the carefree yet unreliable best friend who stood her up on her birthday, and expands her social network by making new acquaintances. She even decides to tackle her fear of flying by purchasing a flight ticket to Maui. However, it’s when she focuses on her romantic life in the latter part of the season that the series reaches new heights.

The ticket coincidentally is for an upcoming wedding at her former boss, now boyfriend, ex and friend, Alex (played by Jocko Sims), a man sweet and sexy. As the date draws nearer, Mel’s feelings for the one who slipped away intensify, reaching a critical point. Meanwhile, Terrance, her practical companion, starts to discover his own affection for her. The predictable rhythm of a romantic comedy adds an enticing pace to the final episodes, yet neither man may be entirely suitable for her. However, Rothwell shares such convincing chemistry with both actors that either possibility becomes incredibly appealing. In my opinion, Terrance captivates me most – Jones’ eyes express such adoration as if she is the only person in existence.

Despite all the events unfolding, the story How to Die Alone presents, in essence, is not about Mel’s romantic relationships with her suitors or friends, but rather the profound love story she rekindles with herself. This theme, though common, resonates deeply due to its authenticity, and even when embellished with unconventional bird metaphors from a quirky falconer portrayed by H. Jon Benjamin, it maintains its appeal. Clichés endure because they strike a chord, and skillfully employed clichés can feel both innovative and reassuring. If the season finale’s cliffhanger is any guide, Mel still has ample room for personal growth. Fingers crossed that we get to witness more of her journey.

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2024-09-12 19:55