Karl Puschmann: New Year, new you? Can a sitcom turn your life around?

Sheridan Smith stars in sitcom Rosie Molloy Gives Up Everything, streaming on Neon.

So, that, for all intents and purposes, was 2022. War. Plague. Ram raids. A new album from Six60. Truly, a wretched year indeed. But was it all bad? Looked at in isolation, certainly. But viewed in the context of the past two years, then 2022 was merely terrible and not entirely cursed and that’s gotta be worth something, right?

But let’s not dwell on the past. There’s no future there. Like the increasing number of sharks swimming around the popular Coromandel and Bay of Plenty beaches this summer, we must keep moving forward or die.

So onward to 2023, I say. No retreat, no surrender. A new year. A rebirth. A time to make some changes. Positive ones even. Carpe diem. Seize the day. All that crap.

New year, new you? I’m sure the intention is there. After a week or so of Christmas feasting, summer barbecues, holidaying and day drinking, you’d be forgiven for thinking it was time to make some changes. Don’t be rash. Wait at least until the 1st. Party tonight. Party tomorrow. And only then turn over all the new leaves you can handle.

It may sound defeatist but I tend to start my life improvements on Jan 2. I don’t need any better living resolutions getting between me, my inevitable New Year’s Day hangover and the fast food I’ll be craving to make it through. Rather than start with failure, I simply punt forward a day. This way I can wake up fresh-faced and positive, with an unclouded determination to become a better/fitter/healthier/etc person.

It was with this self-improvement mindset that I watched the first couple of episodes of Neon’s new comedy Rosie Molloy Gives Up Everything. The title spoke to me because that’s what new year’s resolutions are all about. You give up the stuff that’s bad for you. And for a lot of us that may as well be everything because it’s the bad stuff you indulge in that’s killing you. The problem is that the bad stuff is often the fun stuff. And who wants to give up fun?

Not me. I love fun! As does Rosie. She’s giving up everything not because it’s new year’s and that’s what this annual ritual demands, but rather because she got absolutely wasted at her brother’s dry wedding and made a complete tit of herself.

Maybe if it was a one-off she could have slept off the guilt and anxiety and bad feelings. But it’s not. It’s just another day’s worth of substances for her in a routine that usually begins with a shot of tequila at her office at morning tea, some “accidental sex” with her boss at lunch and lines of coke and whatever booze is around with her flatmate for dinner.

Admittedly, Rosie has a lot more to give up than your average Joe. She’s obviously an addict. As demonstrated when her determination to turn her life around ends with her shivering on the couch with a bad case of the DTs. This leads to her deciding to cut out 50 per cent of the bad stuff, rather than going the full month. This leads to some very funny scenes of her doing things like tipping out half her glass of wine into a pot plant and ripping her ciggies in half before lighting them.

The show does take the time to explain why Rosie’s such a waster, giving her a feasible backstory that’s based on childhood trauma. It’s not presented as an excuse, but rather as the reason for her take-whatever’s-going behaviour.

Despite that, the show, at least in these early episodes, keeps a light, funny tone. Appropriate for a sitcom, yes, but is it appropriate when dealing with such a heavy subject as addiction? It makes no bones about saying drugs are bad but it also undoubtedly makes them look like a fun time. In that regard, it’s having its coke and snorting it too. I don’t want to be preached at when I’m relaxing for the evening but the tone here feels just a little off. And that’s hard to ignore.

One thing it does get right is showing how hard it is to quit your bad habits. Even if, unlike Rosie, you’re not addicted to them. The struggle is real. Change is hard. Personal growth is difficult. You need to push before you can gain any forward momentum. We are creatures of comfort and habit and choosing broccoli over biscuits is neither comforting nor habit-forming. This difficult reality is acknowledged often in the show through myriad zippy one-liners and comedic asides.

Rosie Molloy Gives Up Everything is a funny show. It’s not a classic, but it’s an easy watch and fairly addictive. It won’t make you a better person but it might help you realise that maybe you’re not so bad after all.