Shrinking: Funny, Sad, and Incredibly Messy All at Once

I originally started Shrinking because the idea sounded funny: a grieving therapist gets tired of politely listening to everyone’s problems and starts telling his patients exactly what he thinks. Which is obviously a terrible idea from an actual therapy perspective, but it makes for a really good show. It is also kind of what I wish I could find in a therapist, but I already have a best friend who already does that, so it would be a little redundant. 

I expected it to be mostly a comedy about questionable therapy decisions. Instead, I ended up watching a show about grief, friendship, family, forgiveness, and a group of people who are all just trying their best while also making some truly ridiculous choices.

It is funny,don’t get me wrong. It manages to make the heavy parts feel important, but the funny parts are funny. Somehow not subtracting from each moment. One minute I was laughing, and the next I was on the verge of tears.

Season One: Everyone is a Mess

The first season mostly follows Jimmy, a therapist who is struggling after the death of his wife. He has completely fallen apart, his relationship with his daughter Alice is barely holding together, and he has decided that normal professional boundaries are a stupid rule to follow.

He starts being brutally honest with his patients and getting way too involved in their lives. It is wildly inappropriate from a professional stand point, but it also forces Jimmy to start interacting with the world again instead of just hiding inside his grief.

What really made me care about the show was not the therapy storyline. It was the relationships and how they interact and grow. 

Jimmy may be the main character, but Shrinking never feels like it is only about him. Everyone around him is going through something. Alice is grieving her mom while also being angry at the dad who emotionally disappeared when she needed him. Gaby is trying to figure out what she wants from her own life. Brian acts like an overly enthusiastic ray of sunshine while carrying plenty of anxiety underneath it. Liz has basically adopted the entire neighborhood whether they agreed to it or not. 

Then there is Paul.I already adored Harrison Ford, but I did not expect grumpy therapist Harrison Ford to become one of my favorite parts of the show. Paul is sarcastic, stubborn, and constantly annoyed by everyone around him, but he is also one of the people quietly holding the whole group together. His relationship with Alice was especially important to me because he gave her a safe and steady adult when Jimmy was not capable of being that person.

The first season does a really good job showing that grief is not always quiet or pretty. Sometimes it is anger. Sometimes it is reckless behavior. Sometimes it is ignoring everyone who loves you. Sometimes it is focusing on other people’s problems because dealing with your own feels impossible.

Basically, everyone in this show needs therapy, including the therapists. Which is something I’ve often wondered about in my real life. 

Season Two: Healing Is Not a Straight Line

Season two felt a little heavier to me because the characters were no longer only dealing with what happened. They were also dealing with the consequences of everything they did while trying to survive it.

Jimmy has made progress, but that does not mean everything is suddenly okay. He still has a lot of anger, guilt, and grief that he has avoided properly facing. Alice is doing better too, but I appreciated that the show did not pretend her pain disappeared just because she and Jimmy started communicating again.

Their relationship is one of my favorite parts of the show because it is complicated. Jimmy loves Alice. Alice loves Jimmy. But he still failed her during the worst period of her life, and love does not magically erase that. Their relationship has to be rebuilt slowly, with awkward conversations, mistakes, and moments where neither one of them really knows what to say.

That felt much more honest than having one emotional conversation fix everything.

Season two also gives the other characters more room to grow. Gaby is still hilarious, but we see more of the pressure she puts on herself to take care of everyone. Brian continues to be dramatic in the most entertaining way possible, while also dealing with some very real fears about his future.

Liz and Derek are still one of my favorite couples. Liz is intense, nosy, and constantly involving herself in everyone else’s lives, but it usually comes from a place of genuinely caring. Derek is somehow calm enough to balance all of that energy without feeling like he is just there in the background.

And Paul continues to be Paul. He is dealing with Parkinson’s disease, his independence, his family, and the horrifying realization that sometimes he may actually need other people. He never suddenly becomes an entirely different person, though. He remains grumpy, sarcastic, and emotionally uncomfortable, which makes the moments where he does let someone in feel even more meaningful.

Season two spends a lot of time on forgiveness, but it does not treat forgiveness like a magic button.

Forgiving someone does not mean what they did was okay. An apology does not undo the damage. Moving forward does not mean forgetting what happened. Sometimes forgiveness is about the other person, and sometimes it is about allowing yourself to stop carrying all of that anger.

The show does not give easy answers, and I think that is why the emotional parts work as well as they do.

The Characters Are the Best Part

The characters and their relationships are what made Shrinking work for me.

They feel like a weird little family that nobody intentionally created. They argue, overstep boundaries, interfere in each other’s lives, and occasionally make everything worse. But when something happens, they show up. I also love that the friendships are treated as being just as important as the romantic relationships.

There is so much love in this show that has nothing to do with romance. It is the love between friends, coworkers, parents, children, neighbors, and the people who slowly become family because they keep showing up for you. Nobody in Shrinking is perfect. Some of them are not even particularly good at being functional human beings.

But they care about each other. Sometimes loudly. Sometimes awkwardly. Sometimes by showing up at someone’s house uninvited and immediately taking over the situation.

Final Thoughts

Shrinking is funny, emotional, messy, and occasionally a little ridiculous.

The actual therapy choices should probably not be used as professional advice, but the emotional parts of the show feel very real. Grief does not disappear because enough time has passed. Healing is not a straight line. Loving someone does not prevent you from hurting them, and being hurt by someone does not always mean you stop loving them.

Season one felt like it was about surviving after everything falls apart.

Season two felt more like learning how to live again once surviving is no longer enough.

I started watching because I thought it would be a funny show about a therapist with no boundaries. I stayed because I became attached to this entire dysfunctional group of people.

And because I would honestly watch an entire episode of Harrison Ford sitting in a chair and looking disappointed in everyone. I really hope there are more seasons coming. I already finished season three too, but this post is long enough and I am going to try to get that up later. (Season 3 trailer included below)