Pamela Adlon . Don’t try to see what’s on the screen in front of me. No peeking!Well. We wrapped. One week ago. We wrapped shooting Season 3 of the Better Things TV show. Time of my life. Best crew ever. And now I’m in the editing room. Look. I don’t live for post. But. I am living for post. Obsessed. I drank the Kool Aid and I can’t wait to show you. (Coming to your face early 2019) @betterthings #betterthings #postlife (3/12)

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Better Things | Inside Season 3: Day In The Life | FX

Do it with love. Experience a day in the life of Pamela Adlon on Better Things. New season premieres 2/28 on FX. Subscribe now for more Better Things clips: http://bit.ly/SubscribeFX Better Things is the story of Sam Fox, a single mother and working actor with no filter, raising her three daughters in Los Angeles.

Madison and Adlon in'Better Things'

Madison and Adlon in ‘Better Things’
Suzanne Tenner/FX
By JUDY BERMAN 

8:00 AM EST

Pamela Adlon’s alter ego Sam Fox, the heroine of her semi-autobiographical FX comedy Better Things, is a woman who speaks her mind. In the show’s season three premiere, which will air on Feb. 28, that candor is briefly directed at her eldest daughter Max (Mikey Madison), just after the college freshman abandons her mom in favor of some new acquaintances. “I want my big, life, This Is Usmilestone moment goodbye hug!” Sam whines, her arms outstretched. And she gets it—a long, sweet embrace that melts into a sort of slow dance, then evaporates in a mist of kisses.

The scene comes close to encompassing the range of apparently contradictory elements from which Adlon constructs the show. Better Things doesn’t have a terribly innovative premise: Sam—a journeyman actor and divorced mother of three girls—struggles to maintain an often demeaning career while caring for her close but ungrateful family (including her own declining mom) and intermittently looking for romance. Yet the writing artfully mingles cynicism and sincerity, shaggy storylines, earthy humor and lofty ideas about family and fulfillment. Relationships evolve slowly; it took two full seasons for Max, a mess of teenage anxieties, to reciprocate Sam’s affection. Without straying far from the quotidian, Adlon creates moments of (sometimes simultaneous) transcendence and crisis. Episodes evoke the same range of emotions as, yes, This Is Us but always feel much closer to real life than to melodrama.

C.K.’s absence is indeed palpable in season three. Those climactic scenes that set social media on fire are his specialty: He has the sole writing credit, for instance, on a striking episode from the second season in which Sam stages her own funeral, forcing her family to finally express some appreciation for her sacrifices. When they collaborated on scripts, Adlon seemed to rein in C.K.’s excesses, emphasizing small, true character beats while avoiding provocation for its own sake. In season two, when they shared writing duties but she began directing every episode, Better Things surpassed Louie, evolving into a comedy with the revelatory quality of meditation.

The third season, for which Adlon hired her first writers’ room, starts out equally thoughtful but less focused. As Sam toils on an unsafe movie set and weathers the physical and emotional indignities of perimenopause, she must attend to her family’s various minor maladies: Sam’s mother Phyllis (Celia Imrie) sinks further into dementia. Max gets homesick. Middle child Frankie (Hannah Alligood) grows increasingly bitter about her parents’ divorce, and takes out that anger on Sam. Even cuddly preteen Duke (Olivia Edwards) bristles at her mom’s obsession with a school bully. Instead of escalating to an apex, the first three episodes meander. The story never accelerates.

It’s an experimental season, one whose subtle shifts seem more suited to film than TV—and might be easier to appreciate on a streaming service than in 12 episodes spread out over three months. But if you watch it at the right pace, two or three half-hour installments a day, it starts to recall the radically organic storytelling of Virginia Woolf and, more recently, Argentine filmmaker Lucrecia Martel (ZamaThe Headless Woman). In these artists’ work, as in the new Better Things, you barely notice narratives coalescing until they’re fully formed. That lends their plots an uncommon naturalism. And it certainly jibes with Adlon’s recent praise for the late indie film pioneer John Cassavetes’ documentary-like style. Like him, she’s making choices bold enough to alienate some viewers—ones that introduce a voice strong enough to stand on its own.

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