OnScreen Review: “Little Voice” on AppleTV+
Noah Golden
The great paradox of the AppleTV+ original series “Little Voice,” which premieres July 10th, is that the promotional material states that the show is a “fresh, intensely romantic tale of the search to find your true voice…and the courage to use it,” yet the material itself has so little authentic, intense or courageous about it.
On paper, “Little Voice” has multiple elements that would seem tailor-made to spark my interest, but the result is a disappointing hodgepodge that never really takes off. Sara Bareilles, who co-created and executive produces the show, is an extremely talented singer/songwriter. Her fantastic work in “Waitress” stacks up against accomplished musical theater composers. But “Little Voice” doesn’t nearly reflect that talent enough. It’s further from one of Bareilles’ great songs and more like a series of preprogrammed GarageBand loops. The pieces may be in the same key, but the uninspired, generic fragments don’t create a very dynamic song.
Brittany O'Grady plays Bess King, a struggling singer-songwriter in New York City. While she has many odd jobs – dog walker, nursing home performer, bartender, music teacher – Bess spends her evenings writing songs in a storage unit she somehow affords that’s decked out like an Anthropologie stock room. The tunes are so personal and confessional that she’s terrified of performing them live (even though the lyrics we hear are more vague platitudes than anything else). In the first episode, written and directed by co-creator (and “Waitress” book-writer) Jessie Nelson, the storage unit is home to a meet-cute with Ethan, a documentary filmmaker. While searching for an extension cord, Ethan overhears a few bars of a Bess King original and is immediately enamored. No more than five minutes later, he’s telling her, “you don’t strike me as someone who listens to what they think.”
I don’t believe I’m wading into spoiler territory by saying that Bess ends up in a love triangle between Ethan and fellow musician Samuel (“Dear Evan Hansen” alum Colton Ryan). The problem is, these characters are so thinly drawn that it’s hard to muster any enthusiasm for them. Bess is…quirky, I guess. She wears overalls, a fanny pack and is sometimes a little clumsy! But generally, she either vacillates between pleasant or moody depending on the writers’ whim. Ethan’s British accent and Samuel’s guitar are about all the defining character traits given to the men. O'Grady is a good actress, a beautiful woman and has a sweet voice. With better material, she could do great things. But there’s not nearly enough chemistry with either leading man to make nine episodes worth of chaste sexual tension worthwhile.
What does work a lot better is the material involving Bess’ autistic brother Louis (Kevin Valdez), who lives and breathes Broadway musicals and trivia. He even watches a “Theater Talk”-like TV show called “OnStage.” I’ve worked on a couple musicals with autistic cast members and the writing and portrayal of Louis is absolutely perfect. Nelson, who also made the sudsy 2001 drama “I Am Sam,” clearly understands how to write for characters like Louis – there’s a standout scene in episode four where he gets a job as an usher at the Yiddish “Fiddler On The Roof” that is both hilarious and heartfelt. It’s also worth noting that Valdez is on the spectrum himself, so kudos to the creative team for correct representation.
Perhaps the focus of “Little Voice” is just in the wrong place. We’d have a much more successful show had the creators paid more attention to Louis’ struggle for independence, his relationship with big sister Bess and their single father (the always excellent theater vet Chuck Cooper), a well-known musician who fell on hard times. There’re some great moments between them – like one at a bad job interview – and a plot development near the end of the season involving a surprise visitor from their past is really touching.
The problem is, nothing in the show connects enough emotionally or hangs together right. I’ll give you two examples. You’d think, given the first episode, a large chunk of the season would focus on Bess’ stage fright. Nope. She’s terrified in episode one and completely over it by the third because the plot needs her to be. In another scene halfway through the season, Bess, pissed off from some relationship drama, starts drinking before an important gig. It’s been hinted at in a previous episode that her dad is an alcoholic, so maybe we’re meant to worry that Bess is following in his footsteps. She rambles, but once the song starts, it’s her best performance yet. OK. After the set, she’s pretty tipsy and Samuel wants to take her home while a pushy music producer keeps offering her drinks. All signs point to the producer taking advantage of her or another issue Bess will have to learn from. Yet in the next scene, she’s home in bed alone, the guy dropped her off her without a problem and nothing happened. Her drinking never comes back. Why so much build-up for…nothing?
This happens visually too. The first couple episodes have some lovely world-building where Bess walks around New York and gets inspiration from all the music she hears. Then, poof, that motif disappears. There’s a fantastic bit in the seventh episode where Bess, in a fit of writer’s block, imagines the people that may have inhabited her apartment in a different era. We see a Latinx family, a Jewish wedding, a Victorian-era lesbian couple. It’s a pretty brilliant way of visualizing Bess’ creative process, but it has nothing to do with anything that comes before or after it.
I know I’ve used the word frustrating before, but it’s the one I kept writing down in my notes while watching all nine episodes made available to critics, especially because there was some moments I really liked and connected to as a musician. There’s a subplot involving the dating life of Bess’ roommate Prisha (Shalini Bathina), an Indian-American who plays in a Mariachi band, that works nicely. Her parents, who are obsessed with “Jeopardy,” are a hoot. A scene where the King family sings “Tomorrow” is really sweet and, yes, I would totally watch Louis’ vlogs. In fact, the last few episodes are the strongest by far. But because the characters don’t have enough meat to them, it’s too easy for their actions to feel unmotivated and for the audience to disengage. What’s perhaps most surprising is that the music, which is all written or co-written by Bareilles, is subpar too. There are a few standouts, but most are bland songs that sound like rejects from an earlier Bareilles album. “What Baking Can Do” from “Waitress” gives more character background and depth in 3:30 than all of these songs put together.
It’s really that last point that weighs “Little Voice” down like a balloon tied to a dumbbell. In every episode, people are constantly telling Bess how talented she is. But in reality, her songs are just OK and, even worse, unoriginal. “Little Voice” wants to set up this dichotomy that Bess is too “earnest” and “real” to make it in the music biz. But next to indie artists like Ben Abraham and Sarah Jarosz who play at Bess’ club or the Colin Hay cover her dad sings, Bess’ music just doesn’t stand out. At times it feels like “Little Voice” was originally supposed to be set in the ‘70s (where her earnest folk was drowned out by rock and disco) but Apple made them move the time period so they could include a myriad of shots focusing on MacBooks and iPhones (it drops in the toilet and still works, see?!).
In the third episode, Ethan tells Bess that it’s “rare when you meet someone who is so…” Ethan never finishes that sentence. We are made to believe he is so smitten with her that he can’t pick just one adjective. Beautiful? Talented? Special? Unique? Passionate? But I’ve watched all nine episodes of “Little Voice” and I can’t come up with a single adjective myself that rings true. I can, however, come up with one for “Little Voice” itself: disappointing.
“Little Voice” premieres on Friday, July 10 on AppleTV+ with the first three episodes. The following episodes will be released weekly after that. “Little Voice” is produced by J.J. Abrams’ Bad Robot Productions in association with Warner Bros. Television. J.J. Abrams, Sara Bareilles, Jessie Nelson and Ben Stephenson are executive producers. Nelson also writes and directs the first episode. It stars Brittany O’Grady, Sean Teale, Colton Ryan, Shalini Bathina, Kevin Valdez, Phillip Johnson Richardson and Chuck Cooper.