Comedy
Shrinking
Apple TV+ seems to have a knack for creating deeply heartfelt, wildly problematic comedies. Shrinking is one of them.
Everybody makes mistakes.
But some mistakes are worse than others. Mistakes can change lives. And sometimes, mistakes can kill.
When Jess first brings her infant daughter, Betsey, into the emergency room, it doesn’t seem like a big deal. Jess tells Liz (the doctor on call and, coincidentally, a close friend) that Betsey’s been vomiting and seems a bit listless. A virus, Jess figures. Nothing more serious than that.
But when Liz examines the little girl, she discovers that it’s actually quite serious: Betsey’s not suffering from a virus but a fractured skull.
The next question is obvious: How did this little baby get that fracture?
Jess admits that Betsey did take a bit of a tumble: She fell after trying to pull herself up. But Liz knows that babies don’t crack their skulls from accidents like that.
Liz has always viewed Jess as the “perfect mother.” Jess has always seemed to love and care for her children better than most mere mortals could manage. But in the hospital, Liz notices a difference: Jess is cagey. Confused. Not like the Jess that Liz has always known. Jess is hiding something.
“Is there anything, anything at all, you need to say to me?” Liz asks Jess. “I won’t judge.”
Jess has nothing more to say.
But Britain’s healthcare and legal systems? Both have plenty more to say about the matter. They’ll find out what happened to baby Betsey, and someone will have to pay. Because big mistakes come with big consequences.
The British import Little Disasters is a slow-burn mystery series that deals with heavy, and often important, topics: child abuse. Postpartum depression. Issues related to privacy and disclosure. And as the story moves through its six-episode run, we learn that Betsey is far from the only victim. The fracture cracks the lives of Jess, Liz, their respective families and their close-knit group of friends.
And the show itself shows a few fissures of its own.
Language seems to be the biggest issue for this TV-MA show—at least in its opening episodes. We hear the f- and s-word repeatedly, which by itself would push Little Disasters into R-rated territory if it were a movie.
But we do occasionally see characters in their underwear, too. Affairs—or, at least, the suspicion of affairs—are part of the storyline going forward. Violence is, obviously, very much implicated in the plot here, and a few characters lash out physically.
Everyone makes mistakes, of course. And while streaming services teem with far more problematic shows than this, watching Little Disasters could be a mistake in and of itself.
(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)
Jess mistrusts hospitals. But with her infant daughter, Betsey, apparently suffering some sort of malady, she reluctantly brings the girl in for help. When Liz examines the child, she discovers that Betsey has suffered a pretty serious fracture. Worse yet, Jess waited hours before taking Betsey in. Reluctantly, Liz calls social services, and Britain’s healthcare system begins its slow, destructive crawl toward resolution.
After being told that she can’t be with Betsey alone anymore—not until the investigation concludes—Jess heads home and strips off most of her clothes. She touches her breasts, covered in a nursing bra, knowing that she’s lactating. In flashback, we see how Jess and Liz met 11 years before: They belonged to a group of expectant parents, all of whom eventually formed a tight friendship group. (We also see in that flashback that Jess’s husband previously knew another expectant mother in that group—and both look flustered when they see one another.)
Another couple in the group, Mel and Rob, are unmarried during the flashback, despite expecting a child together. Their marital status is uncertain in the present. And even though the two are raising their kids together, Mel asks Rob, “Where have you been all night?” Rob simply says “out,” and their interaction suggests that his all-night absences are relatively common.
Jess sees sick and injured people in the hospital, including one with a bloodied knee. When Liz repeats Jess’s explanation for how Betsey got injured—that the child fell after trying to pull herself up from a crawl—Liz’s supervisor says, “Crawling on what? A cliff?” Jess imagines forcibly taking Betsey out of the hospital, but in that daydream, a car smashes into the stroller before she can reach the parking lot. (The screen goes black before impact.)
Characters drink wine and beer during meals and at a child’s birthday party. Jess’s husband, Ed, tells Jess that he can’t take Betsey to the hospital because he’s been drinking and is “over the limit.” We hear that getting a baby to sleep is an “act of God,” and someone expresses suspicion of “Earth-mother types.”
Characters say the f-word four times, the s-word five times and other profanities, including “b–ch,” “h—,” “p-ssed” and the British profanity “sodding.” We also hear God’s name misused eight times and Jesus’ name abused once.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
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