A therapist (Naomi Watts) struggles with competing temptations and impulses that potentially threaten her controlled life of career and family.
The psychotherapist's couch is a fruitful setting for multiple kinds of drama, if only for the acting showcase it potentially gives to character actors embodying someone confronting their issues in treatment. Based on the viewed first episode at least, Gypsy nominally falls into a relatively recent variant more devoted to subverting the older image of therapists as saintly helpers and mentors, and instead mining the therapists' own abundant maladjustments and conflicts.
This series also adds a wider set of contexts, following Jean the therapist into her interactions with colleagues, friends, family, her daughter's school, and others. That licenses the creators to deploy some creative cinematography to frame her moving through multiple urban and suburban environments, and recurrently frame her in some interesting symbolic ways. For example, showing her alcohol-fuzzed glow by shooting her through a semi-translucent pane in a rail carriage. So we know this will be potentially more than a theatrical-mode performance piece.
Occasionally such symbolic elements are opaque to the point of being irritating, but they presumably will become more interpretable as the series progresses. The repeated holds on ticking clocks presumably is meant to evoke some sense of anxiety for Jean, but anxiety by itself with no object is too diffuse to be much more than irritating.
Similarly, there is a brief sex scene that is framed as if through a door crack implying a covert viewpoint that is not further explained, and may make you feel uncomfortably voyeuristic.
Such complicity may end up being the meat of the show. The idea of compulsion is introduced in the opening voiceover then again by one of Jean's substance abusing patients, who stares longingly and soulfully into the camera lens and thus at the viewers. Jean progressively begins acting out in impulsive ways, from white lies to professional misconduct, substance abuse, theft and emotional infidelity.
This is mostly presented in empathetic ways that make it seem like an authentic rebellion or a necessary compulsion rather than as immediate red flags with looming consequences. Many viewers probably want to feel things strongly like Jean apparently does, and will want her to seize the day rather than put up with her life of upper-middle-class compromises.
The episode was generally well written and performed. However, the supporting characters were largely overshadowed in favour of showcasing Naomi Watts' lead, and so the full company is hard to evaluate after this one episode. Bourgeois people gossiping at a dinner party does not immediately make for engaging characters. There probably are novel storylines pending around the daughter character, and some progressive themes around gender and sexuality, but there is not enough in this one episode to see how well that is going to be deployed.
The apparent betrayal Jean experiences in the closing moments of the episode will probably serve as a deciding threshold for most viewers. Do they register how Jean's own covert infidelity makes her potentially as much a target for judgement as the person who thwarted her? Or do they want to see Jean righteously confront them? That will probably decide your commitment to repeat viewing.
The psychotherapist's couch is a fruitful setting for multiple kinds of drama, if only for the acting showcase it potentially gives to character actors embodying someone confronting their issues in treatment. Based on the viewed first episode at least, Gypsy nominally falls into a relatively recent variant more devoted to subverting the older image of therapists as saintly helpers and mentors, and instead mining the therapists' own abundant maladjustments and conflicts.
This series also adds a wider set of contexts, following Jean the therapist into her interactions with colleagues, friends, family, her daughter's school, and others. That licenses the creators to deploy some creative cinematography to frame her moving through multiple urban and suburban environments, and recurrently frame her in some interesting symbolic ways. For example, showing her alcohol-fuzzed glow by shooting her through a semi-translucent pane in a rail carriage. So we know this will be potentially more than a theatrical-mode performance piece.
Occasionally such symbolic elements are opaque to the point of being irritating, but they presumably will become more interpretable as the series progresses. The repeated holds on ticking clocks presumably is meant to evoke some sense of anxiety for Jean, but anxiety by itself with no object is too diffuse to be much more than irritating.
Similarly, there is a brief sex scene that is framed as if through a door crack implying a covert viewpoint that is not further explained, and may make you feel uncomfortably voyeuristic.
Such complicity may end up being the meat of the show. The idea of compulsion is introduced in the opening voiceover then again by one of Jean's substance abusing patients, who stares longingly and soulfully into the camera lens and thus at the viewers. Jean progressively begins acting out in impulsive ways, from white lies to professional misconduct, substance abuse, theft and emotional infidelity.
This is mostly presented in empathetic ways that make it seem like an authentic rebellion or a necessary compulsion rather than as immediate red flags with looming consequences. Many viewers probably want to feel things strongly like Jean apparently does, and will want her to seize the day rather than put up with her life of upper-middle-class compromises.
The episode was generally well written and performed. However, the supporting characters were largely overshadowed in favour of showcasing Naomi Watts' lead, and so the full company is hard to evaluate after this one episode. Bourgeois people gossiping at a dinner party does not immediately make for engaging characters. There probably are novel storylines pending around the daughter character, and some progressive themes around gender and sexuality, but there is not enough in this one episode to see how well that is going to be deployed.
The apparent betrayal Jean experiences in the closing moments of the episode will probably serve as a deciding threshold for most viewers. Do they register how Jean's own covert infidelity makes her potentially as much a target for judgement as the person who thwarted her? Or do they want to see Jean righteously confront them? That will probably decide your commitment to repeat viewing.