If I could get on one knee and propose to Phoebe Waller-Bridge after watching “Fleabag,” I would. A dark comedy, drama, and tragedy in one, “Fleabag,” is everything you want it to be and more. 

From breaking the fourth wall to the show’s casting and characterization, I fell in love from the first episode. The show follows Fleabag (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), a London woman struggling with copious amounts of grief, trying to keep up with the rent for her guinea-pig-themed cafe. 

Bridge is the show’s writer and main character, loosely based on her life and her one-woman show, first performed in 2013. This intimacy, knowing that Bridge both created and embodies this character, gives the whole show a diary-like quality. 

It feels like you’re unlawfully intruding into her life, until those moments she looks into the camera and directly addresses the viewer, and you feel like you’re her friend. I love it. 

Claire (Sian Clifford), Fleabag’s wealthy, tightly-wound sister, is so entertaining juxtaposed to Fleabag’s type B personality, and I loved how they interact. I firmly believe that you are either a Fleabag or Claire, either embodying the chaos or suffocating yourself under the weight of trying to be perfect. And the way they clash? It’s just like every pair of siblings I’ve ever met. 

The rest of the cast performs stunningly, as well. Andrew Scott as The Priest is tempting, holy, and so confusing. As a character, his presence forces Fleabag (and us) to question what love, morality, and devotion really mean. 

Scott’s “Hot Priest” is a fully rounded character with flaws and is capable of verbally brawling with Fleabag, despite never being named in the show. 

The Priest isn’t named for the same reason Fleabag isn’t: the show defines characters by roles and relationships, not fixed labels. By calling him only The Priest, Waller-Bridge makes him more than a character, acting as a symbol of temptation, faith, and impossible love: something she wants but can never have.

Nameless characters also keep the watcher focused on what they represent, not who they are. 

Brett Gelman does a fantastic job of being a sex-obsessed, shitty husband, making it so, so easy to hate him. Olivia Colman as the godmother-turned-step-mother is cutting, petty, and hilariously condescending. Every performance adds to the raw, deeply developed, and intimate ecosystem of Fleabag’s world. 

And the show is just unbelievably funny, like the kind that makes you spit out your drink-type-of-amusing. I personally enjoyed season two more than the first, but both seasons find different ways to draw you in. 

My only complaint about the show is its length – I wish there were more to watch, but I also do appreciate how the seasons were not drawn out too long. There’s a beauty in the short bluntness of “Fleabag.”

This show carries one of my favorite themes in media, and in my opinion, one of the hardest to pull off well: sometimes life sucks – it’s hard, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. I think I love this show so much because of how much I relate to Fleabag. 

When your life is defined by grief, it’s hard to see outside of that darkness. Fleabag has experienced so much loss, and at some points, she does let it define her, and that is okay. I think the messy aspects of grief aren’t talked about enough, and this show does a fantastic job addressing significant mental health struggles in a lighthearted manner. 

Sometimes, the mess becomes part of who you are. What I admire most about the show is how it doesn’t glamorize grief or wallow in it; it presents it as another fact of life, often in the same breath as a filthy joke or a heartfelt confession.

That balance, grief alongside humor, shame alongside love, is why “Fleabag” feels like real life. It reminds you that the most devastating and most ridiculous moments can happen in the same week, sometimes even in the same breath. It’s messy and perfect. 

I think “Fleabag” is the perfect rewatch show. It’s comforting, funny, happy, sad, and everything in between, so whatever emotion you feel will be justified at some point. You can stream “Fleabag” on Amazon Prime.