Apple TV Plus’ The Morning Show, an ostensible prestige drama, has always been out of step with reality. The debut season struggled with its sprawling narrative about the #MeToo movement before finding its footing in the second half. The sophomore run, however, goes off the rails almost immediately, as the show opts to depict the pandemic through the lens of its characters’ unrelenting self-interest.
TMS’ bumpy execution doesn’t reflect the seriousness with which the show and and its protagonists hold themselves. This ongoing vanity problem is best embodied by morning news anchor Alex Levy (Jennifer Aniston). She contracts the COVID-19 virus in the unhinged season-two finale, titled “Fever” (released on November 19). As she deals with physical and emotional distress, Alex is wooed by the network’s newly launched, but already failing streaming service to appear in a special about how she’s coping with the diagnosis. And how is she coping? In her lavish and spacious skyscraper apartment, of course.
The writing is so tactless that Alex is touted as a relatable everywoman, the kind who can guide viewers coming to terms with a global lockdown, by her producer Chip Black (Mark Duplass). Yes, let’s trust the judgment of a man who’s just lied about testing positive to be in the same room as Alex when she goes live.
Alex’s million-dollar salary and easy access to healthcare make her the polar opposite of the general public, who don’t have the same resources to fight a deadly disease. Of course, Alex and everyone in her orbit refuse to acknowledge that. To make matters worse, her streaming debut turns into an angry rant as she lectures viewers who may want to cancel her, assuming that takes precedence for the American people instead of worrying about job losses, medical costs, and you know, general survival during a pandemic. Alex’s self-centeredness would be comical if it were at all self-aware and not just appalling.
Season one was uneven but compelling, leading up to a finale in which Alex and new on-air partner Bradley Jackson (Reese Witherspoon) expose their network for being complicit in covering up the crimes of Mitch Kessler (Steve Carell), Alex’s former co-host who sexually assaulted several women during his tenure on their show. Yet season two blatantly backtracks on this seemingly progressive story by focusing on Mitch striving to be a good person while quarantining in an opulent Italian villa. Who thought we needed a redemption arc for this Matt Lauer-inspired character?
Throughout season two, Alex is hailed as a feminist hero, but TMS undermines this development as she mourns her doomed relationship with Mitch. She spends much of season two worried the public will turn against her upon learning of an upcoming book that reveals her consensual affair with Mitch. She even travels all the way to Italy in episode seven, “La Amara Vita,” to make sure he signs a letter falsely claiming the two never had sex, though it’s hard to believe anyone would take his word. But later in the episode, Alex and Mitch get emotional reminiscing about their bond. She then goes on to defend his character after his death. Her inconsistent arc is the show torpedoing whatever commentary it tried to deliver in its first season.
TMS never painted Alex as a saint; she’s always been a complex woman with her own demons. But the writing for her this time around is shockingly stupid, and involves her saying the word “cancel” multiple times per episode. Turn it into a drinking game, maybe it’ll make the show bearable.
Alex’s vanity is endemic to the broader show; almost every other character treads down an equally pompous path. Network CEO Cory Ellison (Billy Crudup, delivering the only worthwhile performance) believes he is in “a battle for the soul of the universe,” when all he’s doing is running a greedy corporation. By the end of “Fever,” he’s tangled up in a mucky love triangle with Bradley, whom he purposely outed to the tabloids a few episodes earlier, and her girlfriend, Laura Peterson (Julianna Margulies). Chip has obviously lost his mind as he voluntarily puts himself in danger by lying to Alex about getting COVID just to be close to her and further prop up her ego.
TV shows about rich and egotistical characters who believe they’re the center of the universe can be entertaining and damning: Succession, Veep, and Arrested Development are prime examples. Unfortunately for TMS, the writers and performers haven’t figured out if the show is a weighty drama about the industry it’s depicting or a satirical takedown. By aimlessly wavering between both, the Apple TV+ series has become an unenjoyable farce.