Every streaming service has to have its own romantic anthology programme: this is the law. Netflix has a dozen of them. Prime has Modern Love. There’s that one where Dave Franco is always getting angry and making craft beer. They all have one-word titles, unless they have a two-word title, in which case one of those words has to be “love”. They all have a scene where, after flirting in a bar, a very good-looking couple go out to a late-night food stall and eat something while standing up. That, the streaming platforms tell us, is what love is. It’s a chewy slice of pizza, eaten laughing at 1am, while being watched as you glow gorgeously through a window.
The second series of Love Life, then, which is HBO Max’s version (also available on iPlayer and Netflix, where it joins Love, Life & Everything In Between, Lovesick, Love Hard, Sex/Life and, of course, just Love), and the best of the lot. The first series took 10 episodes to explain why Anna Kendrick wasn’t married, while the second follows William Jackson Harper as he consistently says the wrong thing to the wrong person at exactly the wrong time.
