Dollface (2019) Review: Worshipping at the House of Brunch
By: Derek Lu
Tags: Race, Women, Tv Reviews, Streaming, TV Series

Dollface, Hulu’s new streamer, follows Jules (played by a relatively understated Kat Dennings), on the heels of a sudden breakup with her boyfriend of five years. She’s picked up by an old cat lady (literally, a lady with a poorly CGI-animated cat head) driving a bus full of other women who have recently been dumped. There are a couple stops along the way, in deserts of “guy’s girl,” full of women robotic ally pronouncing their love of video games, beer, and wings, and “rebound town.” The bus takes them to a terminal, where they are instructed to rekindle with their old girlfriends, whom they neglected while engrossed in relationships, and to proceed to “emotional baggage claim.” Except no one is there to greet Jules. She goes to a woman working the information desk for assistance, where she is asked if she has made comments about a woman politician’s ability to govern due to her menstrual cycle or slept with a close friend’s boyfriend. She learns that the reason for the “hold on her account as a woman” is that all her female friendships have expired.

So, Jules calls up her best friend from college, Madison (played by an frenetic Brenda Song), but she wants nothing to do with Jules after years of silence. So Jules turns to Stella (the luminous Shay Mitchell), the third leg of this friendship, who advises her to get out of her comfort zone and invite Madison to a party. Jules obliges, scoring invites for both Madison and Stella to her Goop-like workplace Woom’s product launch party. From there, girl squad tropes ensue, such as going to the bathroom together and greeting each other with screams and air kisses.

Song, Dennings, and Mitchell star in Dollface. Courtesy of Hulu.

The series seeks to be an exploration of female friendships, betrayal, and finding oneself again post heartbreak, but it can’t seem to delve deeper than the most broad caricatures of millennial women. There is literally a scene in the second episode composed of quick intercuts of a bunch of young, beautiful, bougie women of various racial backgrounds getting dolled up to worship, not at church, but at the “House of Brunch.” Ick. It seems to suggest that millennial women like Jules have it pretty good, and that their problems are contrived. Nothing that can’t be resolved if she just forgets about her no-good ex and trades gossips over mimosas with her girlfriends.

Dollface marks a return to TV for Song. Courtesy of Hulu.

Still, I want to compliment the series for featuring not one but TWO Asian American women, albeit as supporting characters. When is the last time YOU saw a series with more than one Asian American series regular? [For me, probably on CBS’s Hawaii 5–0. We all know that happened there…] Anyway, I want to take a moment to give props to Brenda Song. How unlikely that she would enjoy a second coming and find herself back on “TV” more than 10 years after The Suite Life of Zach and Cody, on which she played the airheaded heiress London Tipton? Such is the gift of streaming, bringing back talent many had long written off. Song has never been given great material, and it remains to be seen if Dollface is going to be any different, but she is an effective performer here, able to convincingly portray a type A bosslady (of the “lean in” variety)/workaholic who has been genuinely hurt by Jules’ abandonment but ultimately wants to reconnect.

Mitchell isn’t given much to do in Dollface except look glamorous. Courtesy of People.

Shay Mitchell’s Stella, meanwhile, is a marginally employed It Girl who, in her introductory sequence, is seen serving face on a couch, with a bunch of naked men in the room posing as furniture. The director of the shoot, bizarrely named Lemon, explains that the shoot seeks to reverse the commodification of women in the home. Or something like that. Mitchell’s character is, I’m guessing, supposed to epitomize millennial women in LA, bouncing from dog-walking gig to questionable photo shoot and spouting nonsensical one-liners such as, “Panic makes the body expand.” Two episodes in, her character has demonstrated little substance, and feels very much like the writers mainly took inspiration from Mitchell’s ultra-glamorous Instagram posts in crafting Stella.

Dennings is a sad girl in Hulu’s Dollface. Courtesy of Hulu.

Lastly, Dennings. I absolutely abhorred her last sitcom, CBS’s putrefying Two Broke Girls, which was full of offensive caricatures of gay, black, and Asian characters. Because of her lead role in this racist project, I always just had a negative opinion of her. But she plays a vastly different role here, trading the brash Max for the insipid Jules. With the caveat that I haven’t seen her in anything else, it’s honestly quite whiplash-inducing to see Dennings portraying a demure, hapless character like Jules, who constantly turns to two Asian American women for life advice. Contrast that with Two Broke Girls’ Max, who would constantly berate her Asian boss Han Lee (complete with just about every stereotype of Asian masculinity one could think of) at the diner at which she worked. Funny how that works out.

For the record, the titular Dollface is the nickname that Jules’ ex-boyfriend Ben calls her, itself a marker of her repression all these years. Needless to say, Jules hates the nickname, and the subsequent episodes are ostensibly about her shedding that doll-like image and finding her self-confidence vis-à-vis her empowering female friends. But the series needs to redirect its critique of the Instagram generation’s obsession with image and self-improvement onto consumer capitalism, rather than poke fun at the women themselves. As it currently stands, it presents a thoroughly offensive portrait of millennial women, and most viewers probably won’t stick around to witness the conclusion of this dollhouse.