Parents' Guide to Dying for Sex

A show about a dying woman whose downward health trajectory ignites her libido sounds like a terrible gimmick, but this beautiful, hilarious series transcends the potentially seamy setup. Instead of straying into maudlin or cringe territory, Dying for Sex is transcendent in its frankness, its verve, and sheer joy, largely due to the juicy and realistic friendship between Molly and Nikki. Good heavens, do these two have chemistry! And though viewers may be prepared for powerhouse acting from the frequently Oscar-nominated Michelle Williams, Jenny Slate's Nikki is a revelation. She's funny, of course she is; Jenny Slate has always been funny, but fans of her stellar voice acting (Bob's Burgers, Big Mouth, Zootopia) have been missing the whole picture: When she arrives on-screen in Dying for Sex, this series comes alive. And in Molly and Nikki's first scene together, in which Molly explains to Nikki that her cancer has returned and is terminal, we feel the emotion in this pair's long-running friendship, and the horror of its looming end.

But before that happens, or even draws close, Molly has a lot of living to do. As she tells her surprisingly helpful palliative care social worker Sonya (a wonderful Esco Jouley), one of her chief life regrets is that she's never had an orgasm with another person. And so with the support of Sonya and Nikki, Molly sets out to find the one who can help her over that wall, to hilarious effect. She picks up men in elevators, online, and even next door, in a scene where Molly berates the neighbor for leaving messes in their apartment's common areas and winds up catering to his abuse and degradation kink. All of this is interspersed with positively magical scenes between Molly and Nikki, dissecting the sex, navigating Molly's cancer treatment, and sucking every available bit of happiness out of Molly's short life and their powerful friendship. Dying for Sex is a wonder, a great big beautiful mess, just like life (and death).