Too Much on Netflix Is Almost Too Real — And That’s Why It Hurts (In the Best Way)

There’s a moment in Too Much—the new Netflix dramedy that quietly demands your entire soul—where the characters aren't saying much, but everything about them screams I’m not okay. And honestly? Same.

I didn’t press play expecting to be gutted. I thought it’d be one of those quick binges: a quirky love story with some British wit and New York grit. What I got instead was a mirror held up to all the quiet chaos I carry—and a reminder that love, grief, loneliness, and longing don’t arrive in neat, cinematic arcs.

Messy, Magnetic, and Moving

Too Much follows Jess, a late-30s American reeling from a breakup that doesn’t just break her heart—it breaks her idea of who she was becoming. She flees New York for London, hoping a change of scenery will quiet the ache.

But London, as it turns out, is full of its own beautiful disasters. Complicated men. Cold apartments. Too many pints. Too much longing. Jess doesn’t magically figure it out abroad, she just finds new ways to unravel and reassemble herself. That’s the gift of the show: it doesn’t fix her. It lets her be.

The Ache of Almosts

What Too Much captures so well is that space between connection and collapse. The texts that never come. The people who only know a version of you. The shame of being the one who cares more. Or the one who can’t stop making a mess of something good.

There’s romance, yes. But it’s not the glossy kind. It’s the raw, in-between kind, where loving someone doesn’t fix you, but it reminds you what feeling alive tastes like.

Tender, Sad, and Weirdly Hopeful

Every episode feels like a confession. The show says: you can be smart and still sabotage. You can be loved and still feel hollow. You can be surrounded by people and still ache for the one who isn’t calling.

And yet… it doesn’t feel hopeless. Because in the midst of the wreckage, Too Much lets there be humor. There’s softness. There’s sex, and sadness, and tiny flickers of self-forgiveness. Like maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to be fully healed to be worthy of something real.

Final Thoughts:

If you’re in your 30s or 40s and still piecing yourself together (aren’t we all?), Too Much might hit you like a breakup song you didn’t know you needed. It's messy. It’s vulnerable. It’s flawed and funny and, at times, painfully real.

But maybe that’s the point. Love is never tidy. Healing isn’t linear. And some of us are just learning that it’s okay to be too much—and still be loved anyway.

Listen to the official playlist on Spotify.