Hulu’s How To Die Alone is a potent dramedy about conquering fear

There aren’t many characters like How To Die Alone’s Melissa (Natasha Rothwell) on television right now. In the Hulu dramedy, she is plagued by fear of the unknown and afraid to pursue her dreams, thus drawing an invisible boundary for how far she’ll go to attain a rewarding career and relationship. Mel feels pinned down by past disappointments, societal expectations, and a complicated upbringing, leading her to constantly devalue her talents. It’s a jarringly accurate representation of living with anxiety and self-doubt, of someone who has the “I’ll never be good enough, so what’s the point?” philosophy. (Think of her as a somber version of characters like Crazy Ex-Girlfriend’s Rebecca Bunch and BoJack Horseman’s Diane Nguyen). 

Aware of the limits Mel imposes on herself, she tries to be satisfied with a job as a cart driver at JFK Airport despite her crippling phobia of flying. Throughout season one, a running question is whether Mel, who is around airplanes all damn day, will have the guts to board one. In fact, How To Die Alone’s nucleus is Mel slowly learning to overcome her trepidations and discovering she does deserve the good things she desires. With this ubiquitous sentiment, creators Rothwell and Vera Santamaria concoct a surprisingly feel-good series about a sympathetic, flawed, and funny adult—even if it takes a beat to get there. 

How To Die Alone begins as a shaky workplace comedy. The early few episodes are rough around the edges as the scripts rush to establish Mel’s dilemmas and the unique place where she spends a huge chunk of her day. Unfortunately, HTDA doesn’t fully utilize its wacky, uber-familiar airport space in fun ways, wasting its potential to be the next Superstore, which wonderfully handled its retail setting. Not all of the laughs land in the beginning and often feel crammed into the storyline. 

Thankfully, the Hulu series works far better as a confident dramedy, an adult coming-of-age story. It morphs into this style by the fourth installment, so stick with it as the series launches with four episodes. Mel eventually moves away from her comfort zone of only hanging out with her work BFF, Rory (Conrad Ricamora), and pushes herself into joining a training program for a promotion. As Mel takes crucial steps to evolve—including making new pals and taking ambitious and even dangerous risks—How To Die Alone evolves, too. 

The seeds for this are planted in the premiere itself, when Mel “celebrates” her 35th birthday. Her big plan to take edibles and watch The Office (minus the Robert California episodes) is ruined when she almost dies with no one around to help. So when she wakes up alone in the hospital and bonds with an older patient whose bed is next to hers, Mel realizes that it’s time to live again, or (to paraphrase both Jack Shephard and the show’s title) she will die alone. This epiphany gives Mel (and therefore Rothwell) the chance to display her versatility. 

Anyone who’s watched Insecure can vouch for her impeccable comic timing; and the actor made such an impact in The White Lotus season one that Belinda will return for season three. She’s a revelation here, especially during the gut-wrenching confrontations Mel forces herself to have (shout-out to her intense scenes with Ricamora, in which both actors crush it). As Mel makes concrete decisions about her future, she also has to deal with the past. The show’s strongest outing is a midseason half-hour centered on Mel’s dynamics with her brother and mother, played by Bashir Salahuddin and Ellen Cleghorne. It’s a darkly comedic interaction that provides insight into Mel’s personality and her simmering generational issues. Another reason Mel feels like a rarity on-screen is that there aren’t nearly enough multi-dimensional “broke, fat, Black” (to quote Mel) leading ladies. How To Die Alone makes a sincere effort to change that.  

While the performances achieve this, HTDA sometimes stretches itself thin to juggle various tropes, even if they’re entertaining. There’s a fair bit of magical realism as Mel often people watches, imagining what her life would be if she was someone else. And a TV show can’t take place partly at an airport without hints of a rom-com, right? Without realizing it, sparks fly between Mel and her ex-boyfriend, Alex (Jocko Sims), and co-worker, Terrance (KeiLyn Durrel Jones). 

Ultimately, the show’s selling point isn’t that love triangle, those family issues, or even the workplace-comedy vibes. How To Die Alone is clearly at its best when it’s about Mel’s quest to be free of her fears so she can finally feel alive. And luckily, Rothwell injects her performance with enough pathos, making any infrequent turbulence worth it. 

How To Die Alone premieres September 13 on Hulu