Series Review: ‘Gypsy’ is a refreshing look at middle-aged female sexuality

Earlier this week, in episode 10 of Twin Peaks , Naomi Watts, as desperate housewifeJayne-E Jones, and Kyle MacLachlan, as her near-catatonic husband Doug got it on in what some critics have described as one the most memorably awkward sex scenes on television in some time.

Things get even more awkward in that department for Watts in Lisa Rubin’s Gypsy , a 10-part pyschosexual thriller now streaming on Netflix.

Basic plot is woman-in-search-of-a-life: Watts is Jean Holloway, a middle-aged Manhattan therapist who is utterly bored with her perfect but banal existence. She lives in a fabulous Connecticut house, has an easy-going lawyer husband, Michael (Billy Crudup), and a tweenish daughter, Dolly (Maren Heary), who appears to have transgender issues.

One day she drops into her local, a hipster bar called The Rabbit Hole — the symbolismcouldn’t be less subtle — and there finds something long dormant inside her is roused in a flirtatious conversation with a barista, Sydney (Sophie Cookson), who also happens to be the muso ex-girlfriend of a patient, Sam (Karl Glusman), whose sessions Jean uses to get information about Sydney’s new love interest. Jean tells Sydney her name is “Diane”, and under this fake persona, begins to stalk her.

WATCH the trailer for Gypsy

Watts as a suburban mommy grooving in NYC ’s back-alley rock clubs and bars does at
times demand that reality must not only be suspended, but also be given a couple of Ativan and be sent to bed for a long nap.

But, as the “Diane ” persona takes hold, Jean ’s behaviour results in serious boundary issues and violations of her professional ethics. While she encourages Sydney’s romantic overtures towards her, she advises Sam to avoid all future contact with his ex.

It is obvious that Jean and “Diane”, though working at cross purposes, are the polar extremes of one divided personality. “Diane ” is unashamedly into head games and screwing up Sydney and Sam’s minds, but quite why she should do so at the risk of ruining her professional reputation is never fully explored — although, as is so often the case with TV’s take on psychiatry, it would appear that Jean’s relationship with her own mother (Blythe Danner) may have something to do with it.

More troubling is hubby Michael’s extraordinary tolerance and understanding of the “work emergencies” that result in Jean’s allnighters in the big city. But, predictably, she is
insanely jealous when Michael and his attractive legal secretary have to put in a bit of overtime at the office. More tranqs, please, for that reality check.

One of Rubin’s stated aims with Gypsy was to deconstruct the pursuit of modern happiness — can women have it all? — but it doesn’t always work. Despite the show’s top-notch production and talented cast, the writing is at times a let-down.

Still, on the plus side, the whole thing’s easy on the eye. Watts gives a good performance
as a woman in search of reinvention. Scrape away the cheese and the at-times laboured dialogue and you have a refreshing and brave series about middle-aged female
sexuality that’s rarely seen on the small box.

That aside, you could call it Bonkers.