FX’s newest comedy, Adults, begins with a complicated situation. A group of 24-year-olds discovers that an old high school classmate is the subject of national attention when his story about workplace sexual harassment gains momentum. As they sit in Samir’s (Malik Elassal) childhood home in Queens, New York, they each decide they also want to be recognized. Duo Issa (Amita Rao) and Anton (Owen Thiele) join the social movement to get admiration; aspiring reporter Billie (Lucy Freyer) leverages the active social climate to get a promotion; Samir reaches out to an ex-girlfriend to clear his conscience. The result is an individualist, abrasive satire on the listless state of young adulthood, infused with all the comedy, awkwardness, and existential dread of not knowing where you’re going.
The Adults pilot episode comes at a specific moment in time. In the wake of a pandemic that halted the personal growth of millions of young adults, it’s easy to see how Adults, and the many Gen Z satires released in the past couple of years, reflect a growing desire for community and place. None of our characters’ schemes work out the way they hope, but their deeply rooted insecurities are laid out perfectly. Even though their attempts to get what they want result in ridiculous, hilarious hijinks, each character ultimately strives to find their place in a world that feels cold and distant.
In recent years, the typical coming-of-age story has gone through a unique transformation. While the 2010s marked an era of idiosyncratic stories highlighted by adolescents and teenagers navigating the small world around them, in a post-pandemic world, the age bracket has shifted. Long gone are the stories of high school bullies, classroom romances, and high school social politics. Instead, what we’re given are stories of young adults navigating their 20s, learning workplace politics, and understanding their place in society.
The idea of escapism within television is nothing new. And in the case of Adults, it’s easy to imagine yourself having a group of close friends when the COVID-19 lockdowns made recent and soon-to-be grads isolated and unable to work in their desired field. While not everyone on Adults is unemployed, they are all equally broke. They live in Samir’s childhood home not because it’s fun to do so, even though at times they specifically state this to be the reason, but because they simply can’t afford to live on their own. Their careers aren’t where they want them to be; their relationships don’t last (except for the comedic duo of Amita Rao and Jack Innanen); honestly, they don’t really know what they should be doing or where they should be going. It’s no surprise that its sharp and succinct critique of modern young adulthood resonates with a generation that has yet to experience those things firsthand.
The long-term ramifications of the lockdowns have yet to be fully understood, but their short-term effects were immediate. Unemployment rates among workers under twenty-four rose from 8.4% to 24.4%. The lack of socialization during their most formative years in kindergarten, middle school, late high school, and college has caused many to feel left out of experiences they were supposed to have (The viral ‘class of 2020 didn’t get a graduation’ meme seems to cope with this reality). Even now, young adults are facing the worst job market since the pandemic, with underemployment rates reaching 42%.
The struggle of young adults entering the workforce, on top of the experiences they already missed in their youth, becomes romanticized through these coming-of-age comedies; Mindy Kaling’s new sitcom Not Suitable For Work embraces many of the same core ideas. Following five twenty-somethings in New York City, each character is emblematic of a certain type of young worker entering the workforce. AJ (Ella Hunt) and Davis (Will Angus) are junior financial analysts, eager to work their way up as the job increasingly demands more than what they can give. Josh (Jack Martin) is ready to prove himself as the new PA on an investigative news show, a position he got because his dad owns the company. Abby (Avantika Vandanapu) is the assistant to a celebrity stylist (Constance Wu), struggling to manage her menial work and her aspirations as a stylist herself. Kel (Nicholas Duvernay) is a med school dropout who takes a substitute teaching position while pursuing an acting career.
Not Suitable For Work sets itself in a light-hearted world where aspiration and determination lead to results. The series’ affable characters and relatively low stakes lend themselves to the opportunity to enjoy the struggle that comes before the breakthrough, as though a reward is not just a possibility but a guarantee. And while the dynamics of the cast make the show a comfortable binge, ultimately, it is a show about work, how to work, the politics of the workplace, and the role work takes in our everyday lives.
Can we then assume that the adolescent coming-of-age comedy is losing influence? Far from it; where there’s teenage angst and the desire to rebel, there will always be stories centering the difficult transition from youth to adulthood. However, the rise of the young adult Gen Z comedy shines an interesting perspective onto a dire economic and political landscape. What place do young adults have in the world when they are stripped of the experiences that build their future? Or better yet, what is to become of young people entering into adulthood when everything is stacked against them?
Whether it be the raunchy spontaneity of HBO’s I Love LA or the wacky exploration of identity on Amazon Prime’s Overcompensating, the jaded cultural malaise of new adulthood is omnipresent. When over one-third of young adults still live with their parents, with an increasingly hostile job market filtering out young workers from the labor pool, escapism becomes a matter of necessity. So what’s the harm in living vicariously through these fictional young adults? Fantasizing about a life not yet realized? In many ways, that’s all we can really do.
