Never Have I Ever Season 3 review: Still one of the best teen comedies out there

In a scene from the third season of Netflix’s unlikely hit Never Have I Ever , Devi (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan) is on her way to consummate her relationship with Paxton when she is sat down by her cousin, Kamala. “You shouldn’t do something on someone else’s schedule. You should do it when you’re ready”, Kamala says to which the narrator, a delightfully cheeky John McEnroe says “But Devi, like most teenagers didn’t know what she was ready for”. Devi and Paxton end up not doing it on the night but this little sequence exemplifies the hilarious contradictions most teenagers grow up with. There is a sea of life-lessons floating around and yet you somehow just manage to stumble out of bed, hit a million things during the day and somewhat groggily make it back, bruised on the inside. The third season of Never Have I Ever confronts serious, more intimate problems than before and it continues to do so with the airy quality of a desi wedding no one remembers a week after it has happened. The third season begins where the second left off. Devi’s dream of dating the hottest guy in school has come true as both walk in through the high school door with stares, envious glares bouncing off of faces and the odd professor even spilling his coffee. It’s paradise. But even in paradise, Devi slowly learns, there is judgment, ridicule and suspicion. Just why is Paxton with Devi, becomes the central theme of the first half of this new season. It subtly points to body-image issues and a certain lack of self-awareness that manifests as robust but undeniable doubt. Devi begins to question her relationship, not because it looks or feels unsound but because to her it feels too good to be true. It doesn’t help that Paxton is an understanding, caring boyfriend who is prepared to step back, make amends for previous mistakes and of course, do it while looking hot as hell. This new season has interesting sub-plots that graduate to a somewhat level playing field alongside Devi’s life. Ben’s continued obsession despite having a girlfriend of his own, Eleanor’s newfound love in a warm-hearted school simpleton, and Fabiola’s continued brush with adolescence and acceptance are all interesting arcs that are given ample time to bloom into their own little stories. The series has also quietly become the epitome of perfectly placed pop-culture references from Bridgerton to a nod to fellow NRI nightmare, Netflix’s Indian Matchmaking. I guess it helps a platform with a giant catalogue that its shows have begun to refer its own creations as identifiers of the zeitgeist. The series also continues its tradition of honouring Indian cliques, and exhibiting rituals in a manner that feels neither half-assed nor devout. Few shows have made Indian culture as palatable without the smirk of condescension, and the fact that Devi herself is alien to her heritage, makes the learning process seem real. McEnroe’s somewhat divisive narration has also bloomed into a cunning narrative tool, the punchline that exists outside the silly, often messy world of the show. These are after all teenagers, who have little idea of who they want to be. Not everything has always worked for a series that can often also start to drag. Teenage comedies are fertile ground for reckless experiments, but even though Never Have I Ever is restrained, owing to its immigrant heritage, it can oversimplify things for the sake of movement. Devi and Paxton’s break-up for example, is as instantaneous and unconvincing as the show’s parade of hot Indian men. Devi fumbles her relationship more than she grasps it with any sort of clarity, and it is largely due to the flattening of Paxton’s psyche, a man so magnetically flawless it seems unbelievable that he exists. It’s far too convenient and linear in a forgettable way and you can see the show’s desperation to race past the relationship to get to the awkward, post-breakup bits where the tension it has willingly and so adequately portrayed can return to the fore. _Never Have I Eve_r isn’t as politically intuitive as maybe Sex Education , but it does have the charms of frivolity, done with a touch of subcontinental sensitively. These are teenagers with aspirations, half-baked ideas of the world and a lifetime of love and loss to look forward, which is why they often function with the nonchalance of learned machines that though grieving at one point, know they will eventually get out of it. It is in essence, a far-cry from how Hindi cinema or Indian families for that matter view personal relationships. A wretched, almost painful characteristic embodied so perfectly by Devi’s mother, played by the reliable Poorna Jagannathan. The series though middling in its humour, can often feel seminal in what it says about brown kids, families and immigrant cultures waiting to be absorbed by the land they continue arrive in without ever quite reaching. The author writes on art and culture, cinema, books, and everything in between. Views expressed are personal. Read all the  Latest News ,  Trending News ,  Cricket News ,  Bollywood News , India News  and  Entertainment News  here. Follow us on  Facebook,  Twitter and  Instagram