There are some shows you watch to feel intellectually superior.
There are some shows you watch to feel emotionally wrecked.
And then there’s Younger — a glossy, bubble-gum, escapist fantasy you watch because the world is exhausting and you just want to lie on the couch thinking, “What if my biggest problem was choosing between two very attractive men and a cool publishing job?”
I’ve been a Younger fan since its Amazon Prime days, where I devoured the first five seasons with the enthusiasm of someone discovering a new dessert that doesn’t judge you.
So when the series finally landed on Netflix and I could catch up on the seasons I’d missed, it felt like running into an old friend who still dresses well, still cracks jokes — and still makes questionable life choices.
The Premise: Ageism, But Make It Cute
At its core, Younger is built on one gloriously implausible but emotionally resonant idea:
What if a woman in her 40s pretended to be 26 just to get a job… because the job market is casually ageist and quietly cruel?
Enter Liza Miller, played by the endlessly likeable Sutton Foster. Liza is freshly out of a bad marriage, financially vulnerable, and trying to re-enter the workforce after years as a stay-at-home mom. She’s smart, capable, experienced — which in publishing apparently translates to “Sorry, we’re looking for someone younger who knows Instagram.”
So she lies about her age.
Just a little.
Okay, a lot.
And boom — she lands a job in publishing, becomes best friends with a millennial, dates a tattoo artist who thinks she’s his age, and somehow nobody notices that she remembers life before Wi-Fi.
Is it realistic? No.
Is it deeply satisfying? Absolutely.
The Love Triangle We All Pretended We Were Above (But Weren’t)
Let’s address the real hook of Younger: the romantic dilemma.
On one side, you have Josh — the younger man, tattoo artist, spontaneous human Labrador, played by Nico Tortorella. Josh is emotional, open, messy, passionate, and completely allergic to emotional walls.
On the other, there’s Charles Brooks — the older, refined, suit-wearing publisher-boss, played by Peter Hermann. Charles is thoughtful, restrained, ethical, and radiates “I own hardcover books and feelings I won’t express.”
Josh brings out Liza’s youthful, impulsive, bubbly side.
Charles allows her to be her actual age — grounded, thoughtful, and professionally equal.
And honestly? It makes complete sense that she’s in love with both of them. Haven’t we all at some point wanted someone who makes us feel young and someone who makes us feel safe?
You spend a good chunk of the series rooting for Charles — because on paper, he’s the sensible choice. But then you start noticing the cracks. He can be rigid. A little black-and-white. Occasionally… a wet blanket. Meanwhile, Josh grows, evolves, and quietly proves that emotional maturity isn’t determined by the year on your birth certificate.
The most quietly devastating moment comes when Liza turns to Charles in bed and says, almost casually, “I guess we’re not going to make it after all.” And that line? That line pretty much sums up the entire emotional thesis of Younger.
Beyond the Secret: What Happens When Everyone Knows?
Once the big age secret is out — and yes, people do eventually find out — the show smartly shifts gears. It stops being about the lie and becomes about identity, friendship, ambition, and choice.
The emotional backbone of the series increasingly rests on Liza’s friendship with Kelsey Peters, played by Hilary Duff. Kelsey is ambitious, messy, idealistic, occasionally reckless, and fiercely loyal — the kind of friend who will both hype you up and emotionally exhaust you in the same afternoon.
Their dynamic feels real: competitive but loving, supportive but strained, aspirational yet flawed. It’s one of the better portrayals of female friendship on TV — especially across a generational divide.
Men flit in and out of Liza’s life (because television), careers rise and fall with suspicious ease (because television), and problems are often solved with a single meeting, a viral moment, or a conveniently placed venture capitalist (because… you guessed it, television).
But that’s okay. This isn’t realism. This is Escape TV™.
Performances: Charm Does the Heavy Lifting
Sutton Foster (Liza Miller)
Foster is the show’s secret weapon. She makes an absurd premise emotionally credible through sheer charm. Her Liza is warm, self-aware, vulnerable, and deeply human. You root for her not because she’s perfect, but because she’s trying — and Foster ensures she never feels manipulative or smug.
Hilary Duff (Kelsey Peters)
Duff brings surprising depth to Kelsey. What could have been a stock “millennial girlboss” becomes a layered, insecure, ambitious woman navigating power, ego, and friendship. Duff handles both comedy and emotional beats with ease, making Kelsey frustrating, lovable, and believable.
Peter Hermann (Charles Brooks)
Hermann plays Charles with quiet restraint. He’s dignified, sincere, and emotionally controlled — which works beautifully early on, but also explains why the character sometimes feels limited later. Still, he brings gravitas and genuine warmth to the role.
Nico Tortorella (Josh)
Tortorella gives Josh a sincerity that saves the character from becoming a cliché. Beneath the tattoos and impulsiveness is emotional intelligence and growth — and that evolution is one of the show’s more rewarding arcs.
The Ending: Not a Cliffhanger, Just… Life
Younger doesn’t end with fireworks or definitive answers. Instead, it leaves things open — not frustratingly so, but thoughtfully. For me, Liza doesn’t “choose” one man because she doesn’t need to. She’s finally choosing herself.
She’s in love with both Josh and Charles — not as a failure of decision-making, but as a reflection of her complexity. Different people bring out different versions of us, and sometimes the point isn’t permanence, but freedom.
Josh always represented that freedom. That lightness. That permission to live without apology. And at that moment in her life, that feels right.
Final Verdict
Younger is not here to challenge your worldview.
It’s here to soothe you, charm you, and mildly lie to you about how easy adulthood could be.
It’s bubbly.
It’s glossy.
It’s emotionally generous.
And sometimes, that’s exactly what you want.
If you’re looking for smart escapism with romance, humour, and just enough social commentary to feel relevant — Younger is well worth the binge.
Honest Reviews 