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It’s difficult to assess if the series has a plot at all outside of the misadventures and day-to-day life of Nola.

Lee’s original film centered on Nola and her three male suitors, and that does account for much of what happens in the series.

Thanks both to the high caliber of performers that inhabit these roles and the uniformly brilliant writing, none of them are simply defined by what Nola finds attractive about them.

They each come off as a complex being with arrays of talents and hang-ups that become increasingly hard to ditch.

The crucial difference is that where Lynch has continued to venture into the unknown and otherworldly, Lee has fully embraced the here and now, indulging stylistic notions that reflect memes and hashtags as well as a revitalized focus on toxic masculinity, the rampant gentrification of New York City, and the gig economy.

For Nola as well as, I suspect, Lee, art in its manifold forms is at once a portal for expression and self-understanding but it’s neither reliable nor predictable.

The series lives in the thrilling mess between the home that Lee knows in his very blood and the alien landscape that new technologies and business, as well as the unthinkable amounts of money that comes with both, that its slowly evolving into.

Rather than simply indulge his own love and defensive nostalgia for where he came from, Lee looks toward the future and largely embraces it — but doesn’t pretend like there isn’t still a long way to go.

Lee’s almost exclusively female writing staff knows how to write men both empathetically and with the sobriety of experience, but its the depth of character that they give Nola, her girlfriends, and the community of Brooklyn that makes this thing sing.

Nola’s interactions with Mars, Jamie, and Greer take up a healthy portion of the series, but there’s just as much focus on Nola’s working life, her community, and, most notably, the female form.

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