Tiny Beautiful Things Is a Heartfelt Story of Grief, Family, and the Power of Kathryn Hahn
Photo Courtesy of Hulu
Tiny Beautiful Things isn’t the show you think it will be. It seems important to point that out up front, because Hulu’s marketing department hasn’t exactly done the show a lot of favors. Yes, the trailers make it look deeply emotionally affecting (which it is!), but they also make the series seem as though it’s part of that very specific genre of nauseatingly saccharine network drama that lives to make its characters suffer and its audience cry as often as possible. (Looking at you, This Is Us and A Million Little Things!) And this is very much not that show.
Because while the series certainly touches on weighty topics—its eight episodes wrestle with love, death, divorce, forgiveness, loss, adultery, disappointment, and rage—it’s not particularly interested in directing how we, as viewers, feel about them. Instead, much like the prickly advice column on which the series is based, the show is raw, messy, and stingingly direct, choosing to embrace uncomfortable honesty over saccharine sentiment.
It’s worth noting how genuinely rare that is—after all, our current entertainment landscape isn’t terribly interested in sincerity for its own sake. Cynicism still generally rules the day—save for a few notable exceptions like ABC’s Abbott Elementary or Apple TV+’s Ted Lasso, comedies where caring is still presented as an aspirational and necessary act. But unlike so many of the five-alarm Kleenex fests that have come before it, Tiny Beautiful Things isn’t looking to inspire you or make you cry (though it will likely do both). It’s here to remind you that you’re not alone.
Loosely based on Cheryl Strayed’s best-selling essay collection compiled from her “Dear Sugar” advice column, Tiny Beautiful Things follows the story of Clare Pierce (Kathryn Hahn), a wife, mother, and writer, whose life is falling apart. Her marriage is in trouble thanks to her decision to give her ne’er do well brother Lucas (Nick Stahl) $15,000 from her daughter Rae’s (Tanzyn Crawford) college fund to save their family home, a choice she made without consulting husband Danny (Quentin Plair). Her day job is in jeopardy after she’s discovered sleeping at the retirement community where she works, and her writing career is stalled. Danny’s bitterly nursing his resentment toward her, Rae is struggling to find her identity with her friends and acting out as a result, and even their marriage counselor seems as though she’s not really on Clare’s side.
So when an old writer friend offers her the opportunity to take over a female-skewing advice column that he, as a middle-aged white male, doesn’t have the range to handle, Clare balks. Her life is in shambles, so how in the world is she in a position to offer advice to anyone else, even ensconced safely behind the column’s anonymous “Sugar” handle? But sometimes the only way out really is through, and it’s ultimately by becoming Sugar that Clare can begin to find a way to answer some of the lingering questions in her own life.