Roughly 800 years ago, in 1989, the mighty Nora Ephron used When Harry Met Sally to pose a question: can men and women really be just friends? Her answer was, in essence, no. Apple TV+’s new series Platonic, created by husband and wife Nicholas Stoller (Bad Neighbours) and Francesca Delbanco (Friends from College), posits that the answer these days might be yes.
The 10-part comedy reunites Bad Neighbours co-stars Rose Byrne and Seth Rogen, who first made a fine double-act in that movie a decade ago. Byrne plays Sylvia, a lawyer who decided to be a stay-at-home mum to her children and now, 13 years on, is wondering if she was wise to do so. Rogen is Will, a recently divorced brewery owner with a hipster bar, who is trying to be content with “selling quality product made with integrity to people on Hinge dates and pretty well-to-do alcoholics”, but is given to kicking over any electric scooters he passes and finding excuses to contact his ex.
At college, Sylvia and Will were best friends (without benefits, it is established early on) and remained so close afterwards that Will was “maid of honour” at Sylvia’s wedding to handsome fellow lawyer and soon to be proven very patient and understanding man, Charlie (Luke Macfarlane). They fell out five years ago when Sylvia voiced the opinion that he shouldn’t marry his fiance. When she hears they have divorced, Charlie urges her to get back in touch. A beautifully awkward reunion over coffee ensues. “You still,” asks Will, to break another silence, “got that family of yours?” She shows him pictures. “Cool,” he says, trying hard. “They look healthy.”
Eventually, the ice melts and they fall back into their old ways. At first, this means trying to recapture their youth by drinking shots, getting high, bleaching their hair, stealing lizards and talking nonsense in diners (can women be warmongers, wonders Sylvia. Of course they can, says Will – just look at Bloody Mary, Margaret Thatcher, Cara Delevingne). But gradually it returns to the real roots of friendship, except this time they are able to guide each other – albeit not entirely smoothly – through their midlife crises. Each has a knowledge of the other – what they were, what they planned to be, what they are now – that gives them a perspective no one else can bring to the party. Or non-party, as Rose is finding early middle age to be.
Platonic does a lot of lovely and rarely seen things. It doesn’t denigrate marriage, although it acknowledges its peaks and troughs. It doesn’t make Charlie boring or villainous. It gives an equally meaty, equally comic, but emotionally resonant, part to its male and female star (both of whom are brilliant in their solo scenes, and whose chemistry together is even more of a joy to watch). It gives time and space to an undervalued and overlooked stage of life. It says that friendship is vitally important, that it comes in many forms and that it needn’t be complicated or ruined by the intrusion of sex.
At one point, as Sylvia becomes caught up in the excitement of her renewed connection with Will – as we all do at the beginning of any relationship – Charlie says: “I know Will and Sylvia aren’t fucking. But it almost feels as if they are getting off on the fact that they could be fucking.” But even he is speaking in a fit of insecurity, brought about by his colleagues’ teasing, and overstating the case. Will and Sylvia are, and remain, “just” best friends. It is the writers’ and performers’ genius to make it clear to viewers that what is being examined and celebrated here is nothing more and nothing less than deep friendship.
Platonic provides a stream of equally brilliant peripheral characters and performances, too. Sylvia’s mom-friend Katie (Carla Gallo) is a fine wingwoman before and after Will comes on the scene. When they go to a party full of unexpectedly young people, they dance their way through uncowed, singing: “We’ve got better credit than anyone in here! … Sorry! For existing!” Will’s barmen, spacey Omar (Vinny Thomas) and practical Andy (Tre Hale), are great foils for him and for each other, and there are many other delights – the female partner at Charlie’s firm with four children who congratulates Sylvia on being “so funny!”, Will’s 26-year-old (brief) girlfriend who meticulously explains the origins of Yolo – orbiting around the centre, which is firmly held by Byrne and Rogen playing gorgeously and apparently effortlessly off each other.
It is not quite the platonic ideal of a modern buddy comedy – some episodes are a bit baggy and drain momentum, although it always picks back up – but it’s close.