Anyone drinks with friends? Beach parties with friends? Nachos with friends? Nachos with anyone, ever?
Not me. And as its fifth and final season gets under way, HBO’s “Insecure” doesn’t , either.
It’s not because creator-star Issa Rae and her group of TV friends, lovers and former lovers are hamstrung by the rules and worries of pandemic life. They don’t have to the big and small thrills of living their young, highly sociable Los Angeles lives because they are too busy living them right now.
And it is no small thing to say that at least we get to watch.
Since its debut in 2016, “Insecure” has been very good at many things. Like Rae’s breakthrough web series, “The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl,” this comedy about Issa Dee (Rae) and her fellow Black millennials trying to get their post-college selves together is self aware and honest without being cringe-worthy. The writing is casually sharp and and spit-take funny, making Issa’s potentially soul-crushing struggles with men, rent and career advancement somehow life-affirming and hilarious.
The same goes for the acting. Whether it is Rae’s buoyant performance as the relatable, mixed-up Issa; Yvonne Orji’s all-in turn as Issa’s complicated best friend, Molly; or Natasha Rothwell (Kelli) and Neil Brown Jr. (Chad) as the best loose-cannon sidekicks ever, the cast are so in tune with their characters, they had us invested in these fictional people from the moment we met them.
As Issa & Co. try to figure out what they really want to do, what kind of adults they really want to be and who they might actually be equipped to love, “Insecure” captures the heady 20s and early 30s in all of their exploratory highs and reality-check lows. And it does that by creating a richly imagined, beautifully photographed world that is as enveloping as a bubble while also allowing for some real-world oxygen to seep in.
When this final season kicked off on Oct. 24, Issa, Molly, Kelli and Tiffany (Amanda Seales) were engaged in the mother of all late-20s reality checks. That would be their 10-year college reunion at Stanford, where self-examination and self-doubt were ed around like hors d’oeuvres on a flaming platter. No one could resist the temptation, and there was a price to pay for picking them up.
After her Season Four break-up with Andrew, a still-smarting Molly considered hooking up with a flirty player from her past. Kelli somehow ended up on the class deceased list, which led to some knee-slapping indignities but also a serious recalibration.
As for Issa, she was given a choice spot on entrepreneurship , where she had a hard time ing what the acronym for her new event company stands for and did some major wrestling with the question of when she knew she was on the right path.
The truth is, she still doesn’t know. And the great truth that fuels this final season is that everyone on “Insecure” is equally confused. (Except for Chad, who is way more convinced of his own wisdom than he should be. Don’t be like Chad.)
In the first four episodes made available to critics, the women and men of “Insecure” are not the struggling beginners they used to be. In the time jump between the first and second episodes, Issa’s company has taken off, thanks to events like a book g featuring “Vanishing Half” author Brit Bennett, who grew up in Oceanside. Molly has a new haircut, a great job at a Black law firm, and a growing awareness of the downsides of a high-maintenance life.
Issa’s ex, Lawrence (Jay Ellis),is a first-time father negotiating long-distance parenting with his ex, Condola (Christina Elmore). And Kelli has stopped drinking and started a self-actualizing journey, which the show treats with sincere appreciation and wicked punchlines. Kelli is woman enough to handle both.
But just because they are ahead of their old game doesn’t mean Issa and her friends are where they want to be. Or where they think they should be.
Even as the characters are gathering in enviably tight quarters for tequila shots and nachos, swanky dinner dates and hipster beach parties (The show doesn’t deal with the pandemic, but it will give you a serious case of life envy), they are also taking on the hard, unglamorous challenge of late-stage growth.
In this first batch of episodes, there are break-ups and hook-ups. There are badly timed tears and hairy arguments. There are fussy babies, freaked-out White clients and a Twitter blurt that can’t be taken back. And there are times when these works-in-progress look in the mirror and think, “How did I get here?”
If you have not been there already, you will be soon. And as Issa is discovering, you will survive.
After spending time with the seekers and strivers of “Insecure,” you will be reminded that we are nothing without our friends, that love isn’t easy but it’s worth it, and that resiliency is muscle that gets stronger over time. I don’t know where Issa and her friends will be riding off to when the series ends on Dec. 26, but I hope they save a seat in Lyft for the rest of us.
“Insecure” airs Sundays at 10 p.m. on HBO.
