Uncoupled, Netflix review — middle-aged gay romcom could do with fresher jokes

At a surprise 50th birthday party, Michael Lawson is left feeling stunned, shocked, even winded. Which would be all well and good if he weren’t the man who organised the event. But as he guides his long-term partner, Colin, into a room full of expectant friends, the latter announces that he’s moving on with his life. It’s a blunt, callous way to end a 17-year relationship but, in fairness to Colin, a surprise party really should be regarded as grounds for separation.

So begins Uncoupled, Netflix’s new comedy-drama by Sex in the City creator Darren Star and Frasier producer Jeffrey Richman. Revolving around real estate agent Michael’s (Neil Patrick Harris) readjustment to singledom in middle age, the show is one of relatively few romcom series to focus predominantly on a gay man.

It’s a shame, then, that a release which should be seen as a sign of progress is so dated and uninspired in other ways. It’s one thing for a couple to get tired of finishing each other’s sentences after almost two decades, but another for a viewer to be wearily anticipating punchlines and plot developments within minutes of starting a new series.

More frustrating than the predictability — or Michael’s journey from heartbreak to self-discovery via the unforgiving terrain of New York’s dating scene — is the show’s reliance on stereotypes. Uncoupled may have upgraded the perennial “gay best friend” to leading man, but it seems to indulge other TV tropes such as the wisecracking black woman and the embittered, furniture-smashing recent divorcee: Michael’s colleague Suzanne (Tisha Campbell) and his new socialite client, Claire (Marcia Gay Harden), respectively.

His circle of friends — a group of Manhattanite elites including Tony award-winners, a gallery owner and a TV personality — are uniformly camp and playfully catty, while the gay community is further reduced to an endless stream of cheap jokes about hookups, boy toys and sexting. The one gag that does land involves Michael messaging a handsome potential buyer on Grindr as an oblivious Suzanne vainly flirts with him.

But any series that combines light, vaguely risqué comedy with synthetic schmaltz will probably find a viewership (as seven seasons of Netflix’s recently concluded Grace & Frankie can attest to). Harris still makes for an affable screen presence, even if his signature boyish charm has given way to a fatigued look that prompts a quip here about needing an eyelift. A better, livelier script to work with might take the years off just as effectively.

★★☆☆☆

Available in full on Netflix from July 29