I first saw this zany British BBC comedy set in London a few months ago, and was hooked from the moment the nameless anti-heroine turned to the camera and asked if she had a “massive asshole.” If brevity is the soul of wit, then “Fleabag” is its irreverent bastard child. Phoebe Waller-Bridge, the writer/director/star, is magnificent as the eponymous Fleabag and helps to spin the old trope of boy meets girl into a profound and hilarious commentary on the nature of love and grief itself. A painfully good, painfully human show, every one of its six episodes had me in stitches.
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