When we are first introduced to our protagonist Claire (Kathryn Hahn), she is, to put it lightly, a hot mess. Her marriage is in shambles, her relationship with her daughter is strained, her writing career is nonexistent, and her actual job is in jeopardy due to her current living situation. The show makes a point of illustrating early on that she is the absolute last person who should be giving people advice. Claire says as much when she’s offered the unpaid job of being “Sugar”, an advice columnist. And yet, not despite her catastrophic life experiences but in fact because of them, she is able to provide meaningful reflections on her readers’ issues. These reflections typically come at the end of an episode, after the processing of painful memories. While they could run the risk of being formulaic, cheesy, or inauthentic at times in the hands of a less capable screenwriter or actress, we are blessed with a magnetic script and a remarkably captivating turn by Kathryn Hahn. Thus, each lesson taken away from the episode feels as earned and impactful as they should be.

While this series is told in a somewhat episodic format (as neither the past timeline nor the present one is continuous) that typically tackles a specific problem one of Claire’s readers has and how it relates to her life, there is an overarching theme of strained mother-daughter relationships throughout the show. In the present, we see how fractured Claire’s dynamic with her daughter Rae (Tanzyn Crawford) has become. The show does a great job of showing how both of them have contributed to this deteriorating relationship and how they both need to grow and change to fix it. Neither person is in the right, but we can still root for both of them to mend fences. Meanwhile, in the past, we are privy to a younger Claire’s (Sarah Pidgeon) complex feelings towards her dying — or in some flashbacks, already dead — mother (portrayed by a stunning Merritt Wever). Claire’s regrets in the past, particularly about her treatment of her mother, lend themselves poignantly to revelations at the end of each episode. 

What I appreciate about this show is its nuanced understanding of each of its characters. While they all make mistakes (albeit to varying degrees), the show never tries to paint them as caricatures or villains. Instead, it humanizes each person and gives the audience reasons to empathize with them. I will admit that some characters are less engaging to follow than others, but the nature of this show’s storytelling makes it so that even the less interesting characters’ plots feel worthwhile thanks to their thematic significance. The script is so strong because of this, and I commend the writers for being able to fit so many raw yet darkly comedic gut punches in each 30-minute episode. 

However, despite all of these absolutely outstanding qualities, this show belongs to none other than Kathryn Hahn. She nails the tone perfectly, and can switch from being genuinely hilarious to making you sob from her authentically painful performance in the blink of an eye. Claire is an extremely layered character who could be easy to hate if portrayed in a less grounded way, but Hahn ensures you can see her humanity and hardship and empathize with her the entire time. Claire may be a train wreck, but Hahn’s moving performance makes you think twice before judging her for even a moment.

Overall, Tiny Beautiful Things is a masterful look at grief, regret, family, and the choices we make along the way. I would recommend the show just for Kathryn Hahn’s performance alone, but its realistic depiction of the struggles that come with growing older and accepting your past make this show an absolute must-watch in my eyes. Do not miss out on this show. I promise you that this 4-hour-long miniseries is worth every second you spend on it.

8.5/10