David Farnor | On 06, Apr 2025

This review is based on the opening episodes.

There probably won’t be a TV show less suitable to be googled from your work computer this year than Dying for Sex. FX’s new drama sits nicely alongside Rivals as series that jarringly sit under the Disney+ banner in the UK, but while its title is certainly attention-grabbing, the show’s strength is how surprisingly nuanced and thoughtful it is.

The series is based on the Wonder podcast that told the true story of Molly Kochan, who found a new lust for life in the face of a terminal cancer diagnosis – a story she talked to her friend and host, Nikki Boyer, about. Here, Michelle Williams steps into Molly’s shoes, and we pick things up as she is undergoing counselling with her husband, Steve (Jay Duplass). Since her cancer diagnosis, we learn, he hasn’t been interested in her sexually, and the pair are still struggling to talk about why that is.

It’s a frank start to what will go on to be an increasingly frank series, but it also grounds Molly’s journey in a very real emotional dilemma. Steve is organised and loyal in supporting her and coordinating her medical, but is also irritating, terrible at communicating and sees his wife through a permanent lens of pity that takes away her humanity, identity and womanhood in one fell swoop. So when she gets a phone call mid-counselling session that her cancer is back and worse, it’s no surprise that her reaction is to run away from him and seek comfort with her friend, Nikki (Jenny Slate).

Nikki is everything Steve isn’t – boisterous, lively and not afraid of confrontation, but also entirely disorganised and completely unreliable. Within hours, she loses key documents, track of time and even Molly herself. And so the stage is set for a consistently funny caper through something movingly tragic. And that’s before we get to the sex part.

The scripts, largely by showrunners Elizabeth Meriwether (New Girl) and Kim Rosenstock, are a remarkable mix of the candid, the compassionate and the comedic, as Molly begins a voyage of self-discovery. Chatting to her palliative care nurse, Sonya (Esco Jouléy), she realises that an orgasm with a partner is on her bucket list, and sets about attempting to tick that box. The unfolding encounters begin by deliberately steering away from something conventionally steamy and instead present us with intimacy issues, self-doubt and fears about blackmail – Dying for Sex is determined to surprise us at every turn with something substantial.

The cast are fantastic, bringing an honesty to each scene that allows the tone to shift from playful to sweet, without becoming silly, cheap or melodramatic. Jenny Slate is a wonderfully entertaining ball of chaos, Jay Duplass continues to blossom since his switch to acting in Transparent with a disarmingly earnest performance, while Michelle Williams underplays every scene with a moving vulnerability.

The result is something strangely gentle, despite its explicit subject matter, that works simultaneously as a celebration of friendship, a meditation on death and a study of desire and what it means. If the rest of its episodes manage to stay rooted in such sensitive explorations of connection and fulfilment, it promises to be something very unique indeed.

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