When this revival series got the Netflix makeover, which is to say its drama polished for international appeal, it lost some the humanity that made the original three seasons wistfully exciting, romantically brave, and what felt to me like an authentic portrayal of a woman in power.
I usually get the Amy/Tina wit, but was royally disappointed with this one, actually pissed off that women can portray women as such one dimensional, mean, unattractive nobodies who have nothing to share but a disdain for millennials.
About five years ago, I KonMaried my underwear drawer and now all my knickers maintain vertical integrity. And yes, I experience joy every time I open my drawer.
After watching three seasons of Transparent, I find myself envying the Jews. The transgressions of the self absorbed, upper middle class Californian-Jewish Pfefferman clan makes my own dysfunctional family seem so excruciatingly banal that I'm wishing I could wallow in all that Jewish trauma. Which is perverse of course, and that to me is the attraction of Transparent.
Written in a compelling dystopian tone, I appreciated the confidence author Charlotte Wood has in the reader to absorb her nuanced exploration of the complexities that make up the "female condition".