A delicate comedy about the restorative power of human connection, this series hinges on beautiful performances from leads Everett and Hiller, who have a friendship viewers immediately root for. In high school, Joel tells Sam, she was a big deal in the show choir where the two performed together; he's not surprised she doesn't remember him, and, sweetly, doesn't even care; he's just happy to hang out with her as an adult, and to invite her to the quirky little church fellowship group/cabaret that he's been holding in an almost abandoned mall once a week. It's here, at last, that Sam begins to find people she can relate to, the oddballs of her tiny town. As Sam begins, almost imperceptibly at first, to put down the psychic burdens of pain and uncertainty and grief, we can see and even feel her joy and relief in a way that makes it even easier to get hooked on her journey.
In shows like this, the episode synopses read as deadly dull: Sam joins a church choir, Joel and Sam run into conflict at work. All the drama is in the interplay between the characters, who feel real, lived-in, and like people we understand and want the best for. As played sensitively by Everett, Sam is a character viewers won't soon forget, and though Somebody Somewhere's storylines and pleasures are subtle, they're powerfully emotional too.