The growth of the independent film industry has led to, well, more great indies, but also a rather tiresome template: movies about quirky types trying to out-kook each other yet working out their many problems in a tight 90 minutes. But this subgenre has led to a small crop of TV shows that offer up a far more enticing alternative.
Girls, Casual and the sadly cancelled Looking have all taken dynamics usually explored on film and given them room to breathe. The greatest gift this trend has given us is Jill Soloway’s rich and exquisitely drawn Amazon series Transparent, which features as part of this year’s TV strand at the Toronto film festival.
There’s something so apt about watching Transparent on the big screen; each episode has always felt visually on a par with its independent cinema peers. The combination of artful locations and whimsical music choices continue and in the first three episodes shown, the sharp naturalism and non-forced “issue”-raising shine brighter than ever before.
As the season begins, Maura Pfefferman (Jeffrey Tambor) is unhappy for reasons she can’t quite specify, and a growing awareness of her white and trans privilege means she feels embarrassed about her discontent. It’s subtly shaded, but these themes are recognisable throughout her family too. Her son Josh (Jay Duplass) is listlessly existing at work, daughter Ali (Gaby Hoffmann) is worried about a sexual relationship with her mentor while wondering whether she has enough authority to teach authors of colour to her class, and older daughter Sarah (Amy Landecker) is preoccupied with getting on the board of the local temple.
In the first episode, Maura has to face her issues head on. During a phone-line shift at the Los Angeles LGBT Center, she takes a call from a young black trans woman which sets her off on a strange journey to find and help her, still learning how to deal with people within the community who aren’t in the same social class. It recalls critiques of Caitlyn Jenner for failing to represent those who have transitioned without such financial ease – and the reality star herself makes a cameo here in a strange gameshow fantasy.
What’s so refreshing about Transparent is that it tackles such issues without ever feeling heavy-handed. There’s a deceptively intricate choreography in place, even during the many busy family scenes in which everyone frantically talks over one another. Each character has their purpose and it’s played out with ease. This is exemplified when Maura makes an announcement in the third episode and each actor responds in their own subtle way, living out their own separate drama.
Tambor’s performance continues to astonish as we watch Maura evolve, and her journey is never simplified or made easily accessible for a mass audience. One of the show’s greatest strengths is how unafraid it is of potentially alienating specificity (there’s a recurring localised joke in the opening episodes about the hospitals in LA) but the family dynamics, as ever-changing and as unique as they are, never fail to seem real. The sibling shorthand feels lived in, the dialogue almost improvised and Soloway never forces emotional beats.
In the opening episodes of its third season, Transparent continues to expand and mature, with characters that still surprise and engage. It’s a rare show that can simultaneously feel other while also incredibly relatable. That in itself is a groundbreaking achievement.
