#Im dying up here full
#Im dying up here series
#Im dying up here tv

He can’t tell if she’s pretty or not pretty, pinpointing what annoys him about her with a disdainful “Your hair is brown.” Ruth has to seek her own bold-outline persona to achieve high definition in the ring, and she finds it in the supervillain role of a taunting Russian Commie harpy waging Cold War against weak, crybaby America. Just as Ruth can’t locate her sweet spot as an actress, the “it” quality that will smack casting directors in the third eye, GLOW’s creator-impresario Sam Sylvia ( Marc Maron), the auteur behind schlock horror bottom-scrapers such Blood Disco and Blood Disco II, can’t figure out where to slot Ruth in his game plan even close up, she’s kind of a blur.

#Im dying up here tv

She had to beat like a moth against the screen to land the part of Ruth in GLOW.) Her fortunes shift, or at least pivot toward the burlesque, when she’s cast as one of the leotard combatants in the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling (GLOW), a tacky company of amateur grapplers preparing for a TV pilot that will elevate catfighting to soap opera- Dynasty for the down and dirty. Like Diane Chambers’s fluty airs, Ruth’s conceits are getting her nowhere fast her career is a dreary round of failed auditions and forlorn workshops. (The wayward hubbie, Mark, is played by Rich Sommer, who received his training in shiftiness as Harry Crane in Mad Men.) An aspiring actress in a Hollywood bulging with them who masquerades her insecurities with arty pretensions, Brie’s Ruth is akin to Diane Chambers’s bar waitress in Cheers, who breezily patronized her co-workers and customers as if she were moonlighting among the commoners. In GLOW, created by Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch, Brie isn’t a bright-eyed goody-good but a restive wannabe who doesn’t quite know herself and commits the cardinal sin of sleeping with the husband of her aerobics-class pal Debbie Eagan ( Betty Gilpin). Merely saying her name-Trudy!-was a happy pill.

Brie has had a built-in audience-affection factor since Community and particularly Mad Men, where she was Trudy, the wife much too good for the ferrety Pete Campbell, and one of the few characters in that spotless showroom of obsessives and depressives who was unshadowed by malaise, unformed malice, and existential drizzle. That the actress herself is adorable is beyond dispute-on that, all Americans can agree.

#Im dying up here series

Alison Brie’s Ruth in Netflix’s original series GLOW, the most pleasant surprise of the summer (and what summer has needed pleasant surprises more?), is another heroine out of this action kit. They flipped stereotypes and snickering derision flat on their backs (then, in Buffy’s case, drove home the spike).

#Im dying up here full

Adorability in movies and TV used to translate as cute, perky, dimply, and pint-sized: Shirley Temple, tapping her way into darlinghood Sandra Dee and Sally Field as Gidget Annette Funicello in her Mouseketeer ears and later riding the mild surf with Frankie Avalon in those Beach Party brain-drainers the Olsen twins in Full House before they matured into fashion goblins Vanessa Hudgens in the High School Musical series.īut with Sarah Michelle Gellar’s Buffy in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Reese Witherspoon’s Elle Woods in Legally Blonde, adorable and petite became a mask for hidden powers of grit, perseverance, driving vocation, and spear-point focus.