“Tugs at the audience’s heartstrings yet moves too fast to make an impact”

Is death better if it is quick and sudden, or slow and lingering? Which is the most bearable? And for whom? A bittersweet tale of lives connecting in the aftermath of loss and grief, the three-part British series You & Me explores what it means to find love when one least expects it.

When cheery journalist Ben (Harry Lawtey) meets Jess (Sophia Brown) during a chance encounter, it is love at first sight. Before long, they move in together and Jess becomes pregnant with twins; they are happy and blissful. But, as the gloomy present-day Ben in the first episode reveals simply by existing in his sombre environment, something terrible has happened to Jess. Struggling to hold it all together since becoming a single parent and losing the love of his life, Ben has devoted himself to the twins. However, one day he meets Emma (Jessica Barden), which turns out to be a life-changing encounter. The young woman—an actor struggling with the death of her sister Joey (Lily Newmark) while preparing to star in a career-defining play—has more in common with Ben than he could ever imagine. 

Created and written by Jamie Davis, the series presents two separate timelines revealing the circumstances that shaped the main characters. To signify which timeline is which, before is emphasised through the warm hues of optimism while the bluer, colder ones underline the bleak present. As the episodes move between past and present life, it becomes apparent that while these inclusions provide background (including, via twists and turns, how Jess and Joey died), they primarily seem to be used to position emotions and situations in harsh contrast. While this narrative structure is used to accentuate the drama, more often than not, it sabotages itself as viewers barely have time to connect with the material. 

Even though stories generally are constructed to elicit a response within viewers, few are as transparent about it as You & Me. An emotional whiplash of sorts, it tugs at the audience’s heartstrings, yet moves too fast to make an impact. How should viewers be expected to invest in the circumstances and characters when the series ultimately wants to be hopeful? It desires to lift audiences up instead of actually making them feel sad, and it is a pursuit that unmistakably shines through the façade. Therefore, despite dealing with heavy themes, it feels as if the series is holding back, afraid to truly commit. You & Me depicts pain but never convincing suffering; while it presents stakes, they never feel real or urgent.

Despite the actors’ best efforts, the shallowness of the script makes it hard for any character to come across as more than one-dimensional. Lawtey moves between poignantly conveying Ben’s inner turmoil to other times coming across as robotic and flat during moments that should feel more urgent. Similarly, Barden shines when Emma struggles or acts morally questionable—conveying more through body language and facial expressions than words ever could—but, in certain scenes, the dialogue is too sugary to be saved, thus making her seem uncharacteristically naïve. Moreover, even though the final episode tries to give Jess more individuality, she is mainly a prop and catalyst for Ben’s journey, further underlined by the narrative structure.

Moments of crucial announcements or reveals often feel theatrical rather than genuine; regrettably, this makes the series feel unsophisticated, as if the main focus was to fit certain moments into the narrative, believing this alone would be sufficient to receive acclaim and make the story worthwhile. Yet, occasionally, the series finds itself showing flashes of hope. While big speeches and reveals feel forced, quieter moments deliver charm and significance. This is evident when Ben and Emma break into the Brockwell Lido after hours simply because they enjoyed each other’s company too much to part. A sweet scene with an equally touching sentiment behind it, the splash in the swimming pool underlines the main idea behind the series—if one does not dare to leap when the opportunity arises, they might never do it and thus miss out on life itself.

Even though the idea of concentrating on loss might sound discouraging due to the sheer despair of it all, it is refreshing to see a story featuring people experiencing loss at an age where many might not yet know the impact of such significant losses. With this comes depictions of what the aftermath might look like after experiencing the most “unimaginable thing” in life, as Ben and Emma describe it. Whenever he experiences the slightest joy, Ben feels torn about his parental responsibilities and worries about being disloyal to Jess’s memory. Likewise, Emma has her own predicaments, worrying about not honouring Joey’s final wish for her while also dealing with the consequences of her grief. 

Ultimately, You & Me falters because it is far too clean-cut and soapy. It depicts South London as a sun-drenched fairytale, a place where people run towards the one they love in the hope of not being too late (it never is) and where people consistently have epiphanies at the most inconvenient of times (it always works out though). Viewers will quickly figure out the series’ formula and, consequently, know that neither introduced hurdle is ever substantial enough to cause a problem. As a whole, this predictability ends up overshadowing even the good parts; yet, at its core, the series means well. Despite struggling, both Ben and Emma embody the notion that one can feel alive again after trauma—and for any viewer with experiences of debilitating grief, the portrayal of people discovering that they are capable of experiencing something they assumed was lost forever is undoubtedly heartening and hopeful.

Director: Tom Vaughan

Producer: Michael Ray

Cast: Harry Lawtey, Jessica Barden, Sophia Brown, Andi Osho, Julie Hesmondhalgh, Janie Dee, Dominic Mafham, Lily Newmark, Genesis Lynea, Isabella Tyson, Lucas Tyson

Release Date: 23 February, 2023 

Available on: ITVX, Stan, SVT Play