“The Big C” is my new addiction… only 15 years after everyone in America moved on with their lives. But honestly, how would we even know it existed before Netflix came to save our culturally delayed corner of the planet? The more I watch, the more I realise how many brilliant things we’ve missed while confidently believing we’ve seen everything. Spoiler: we haven’t.
At first glance, it promises the classic dramatic cocktail: Life, death, illness (the very big kind), Alzheimer’s, puberty, marriage, motherhood, taboos, identity crises. Except it’s mixed so boldly and exaggerated so wildly that it somehow ends up feeling exactly like real life. “Ah yes… life is a mess.”
Nothing revolutionary, right? Well, it kind of is. Because this show premiered over 15 years ago and still feels uncomfortably current. Watching it now, in Cyprus of all places, I found myself wondering how human thought can be so universal when culture, geography, and Wi-Fi speeds are not.
At the center of it all is Cathy Jamison, played brilliantly by gorgeous Laura Linney, your classic suburban mom who gets a terminal diagnosis and responds in a way that makes you want to shake her and hug her at the same time. At first, everyone is unlikeable. Cathy especially. She’s irritating, frustrating, secretive, and emotionally constipated. But then, somehow, you’re suddenly invested in the entire neighbourhood’s wellbeing like they’re your own weird relatives.
The show nails the messy truth about hope and connection. How we cling to people, push them away, pull them back, miscommunicate, misunderstand, forgive, repeat. Adam, Cathy’s teenage son, is perfection in every awkward, hormonal, eye-rolling moment, embodying the universal misery of adolescence while trying to make sense of his mom’s unraveling world. Watching them both evolve is like watching two parallel coming-of-age stories, one is literal and the other existential.
If I had to pick a favorite character, it’s Cathy’s brother, Sean Tolkey. A great idea for the voice of the bigger picture, the one who makes you pause and think with sarcasm, that cuts straight through the emotional chaos of the show. He sees life’s absurdities clearly, calls out hypocrisy, and delivers truths most characters would shy away from, all with that effortless charm that makes you love him instantly. Every scene he’s in feels sharper and funnier and again real.
What surprised me most is how boldly The Big C tackled things like mental health, addiction, and complicated grief, years before these conversations became mainstream hashtags here. It all feels incredibly “right now,” except it’s from 2010, which says more about society’s pace than TV trends.
Binge-watching season one in one weekend (a respectable, healthy life choice), I found it uplifting in how it handles pain without drowning in it, choosing to spotlight the tiny, absurd, beautiful connections that keep people afloat. I mean we need to be positive right?
If anything, The Big C is a loud, messy, funny, heartbreaking reminder that the human spirit is ridiculously resilient. And that life, in all its chaos, really is meant to be lived fully, loudly, and most importantly, with love.