Romance on screen usually looks like a filtered Instagram post, but Love by Judd Apatow—the Netflix series he co-created with Lesley Arfin and Paul Rust—is more like a blurry photo of someone spilling coffee on themselves. It's awkward. It’s cringey. It’s honestly a bit painful to watch sometimes. But that’s exactly why people are still talking about it years after the finale aired.
If you’ve ever dated in Los Angeles, or really anywhere where people use apps to find "the one," you know the drill. It’s a series of bad decisions, weird silences, and realizing the person you’re seeing is actually kind of a disaster. Love doesn't look away from that. It leans in. Hard.
What Love by Judd Apatow gets right about being a "nice guy"
The show centers on Gus Cruikshank and Mickey Dobbs. Gus is played by Paul Rust, and Mickey is played by Gillian Jacobs. On paper, it’s the classic "nerdy guy meets cool, self-destructive girl" trope that Hollywood loves to run into the ground. But Apatow and his team subvert it almost immediately.
Gus isn’t just a sweet nerd. He’s actually kind of passive-aggressive. He’s got this "nice guy" complex that masks a lot of ego and a need for control. It’s a nuanced take on masculinity that you don't see often. Usually, the nerd is the hero. Here, Gus is often the architect of his own misery because he refuses to be honest about what he wants.
Then you have Mickey. She’s an addict—not just to substances, but to love and sex. Gillian Jacobs plays her with this raw, vibrating energy that makes you root for her even when she’s sabotaging everything in sight. The show doesn't treat her addiction as a "quirk." It treats it as a heavy, daily weight. This isn't a manic pixie dream girl situation; it's a "this person needs serious therapy" situation.
The Los Angeles of it all
Most shows set in LA feel like they were filmed in a studio or on a very expensive street in Beverly Hills. Love feels like the Valley. It feels like the gas station at 2:00 AM. It captures the specific loneliness of a city where everyone is "making it" but nobody is actually happy.
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The supporting cast makes this world feel lived-in. Claudia O'Doherty as Bertie, Mickey’s Australian roommate, is the absolute standout. She provides the heart that the two leads often lack. Her optimism acts as a foil to the cynicism of the central couple. Without Bertie, the show might be too bleak to handle.
Why the pacing of Love by Judd Apatow frustrated some viewers
If you're looking for a plot that moves at a breakneck speed, this isn't it. Love is a slow burn. Sometimes it’s a "no burn." Episodes will spend twenty minutes on a single conversation or a boring afternoon at a satellite radio station.
Some critics felt the show dragged. They weren't wrong, exactly. But the dragging is the point. Real relationships don't have a three-act structure every Tuesday. They have long stretches of nothing punctuated by moments of intense clarity or intense fighting.
Apatow has always been known for his "loosely scripted" feel. From Knocked Up to Funny People, he lets scenes breathe until they almost choke. In Love, this style finds its perfect home. Because Gus and Mickey are so bad at communicating, the silence between them says more than the dialogue ever could.
Breaking the "Apatow Hero" mold
For a long time, Judd Apatow was criticized for making movies about "man-children" who eventually grow up because a beautiful woman tells them to. Love feels like an apology for, or at least a deconstruction of, that theme.
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Mickey doesn't "fix" Gus. Gus definitely doesn't "fix" Mickey. In fact, they often make each other worse before they make each other better. The show acknowledges that you can't be someone's rehabilitation center. It’s a mature, often cynical perspective that feels earned by the time the third season wraps up.
The music and the vibes
We have to talk about the soundtrack. The show uses music to ground the emotional beats in a way that feels organic. From the theme song to the weird "jams" Gus does with his friends—where they write fake theme songs for movies that don't have them—the soundscape is essential. It adds to the "indie" feel without being pretentious.
It's also worth noting the fashion. Mickey’s outfits became a whole thing on Tumblr and Pinterest. The red bathing suit with the jeans? Iconic. It reflected her character: a mix of "I don't care" and "I'm trying very hard to look like I don't care."
Is Love by Judd Apatow still relevant today?
In 2026, the dating landscape is even more fractured than it was when the show premiered in 2016. The apps have gotten worse. The "situationship" has become the standard. Re-watching Love now feels almost nostalgic, but the core anxieties are identical.
The fear of being found out as a fraud is universal. Whether you're an on-set tutor like Gus or a radio producer like Mickey, you're constantly performing. The show asks: what happens when you stop performing? Usually, it's a mess. But as Apatow suggests throughout the series, the mess is where the actual love lives.
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People still search for "shows like Love" because it filled a very specific niche. It wasn't quite a sitcom, but it wasn't a "prestige drama" either. It was a "slacker dramedy" with a high budget and a lot of heart.
Navigating the cringe factor
There is a scene where Gus throws his Blu-ray collection out of a car window. It is physically difficult to watch. It’s so petty and so small.
That’s the secret sauce. Apatow isn't afraid to make his protagonists unlikable. In an era where every lead character needs to be "relatable" (which usually means "blandly pleasant"), Love dares to give us characters who are frequently annoying.
You find yourself screaming at the TV, "Why would you say that?!" because you’ve said that. You’ve been that person. You’ve sent the text you shouldn't have sent and then stared at the "three dots" for an hour until your brain melted.
Actionable insights for fans and creators
If you’re looking to revisit the series or if you’re a storyteller trying to capture this kind of realism, here are the takeaways:
- Study the "Nice Guy" Subversion: Watch Gus closely in Season 1. Notice how his kindness often has strings attached. It’s a masterclass in writing flawed protagonists who think they’re the hero.
- Embrace the Boring: If you're writing, don't be afraid of the "mundane" moments. The scene where Mickey is just trying to buy a coffee while hungover tells us more about her than a five-minute monologue would.
- Focus on the "Third Character": In Love, the city of Los Angeles is the third character. Use your setting as an active participant in the story, not just a backdrop.
- Watch the "Jetman" Episode: Season 2, Episode 5 ("A Day") is arguably one of the best half-hours of television in the last decade. It captures the "first date" energy perfectly—the highs, the lows, and the weirdness in between.
Love by Judd Apatow didn't end with a wedding or a giant "happily ever after." It ended with two people deciding to try. Just try. In a world of grand gestures and cinematic endings, that’s probably the most radical thing it could have done.
To get the most out of a re-watch, pay attention to the background characters like Randy and Arya. Their subplots often mirror the main relationship in ways that are easy to miss on the first pass. The show is much denser than the "slacker" vibe suggests.