Goldberg

If you want personal stories of survival, family trauma or just how to get over a breakup, look no further than adult animation. Even better: Sometimes these shows do all that and are still funny. We’ve rounded up some of this season’s best examples in the genre.

‘Genndy Tartakovsky’s Primal’ (Adult Swim)

Set in an anachronistic world where prehumans and dinosaurs fight for survival, “Primal” is told sans dialogue and focuses on a Neanderthal named Spear (whose vocal grunts are provided by actor Aaron LaPlante) and a female Tyrannosaurus rex known as Fang. It’s raw, bloody and, somehow, tear-jerking.

“There’s drama, there’s violence, certainly there’s a bit of lightheartedness … we’re not trying to do it like a live-action thing, but we’re trying to get cinematic,” says creator Genndy Tartakovsky. “And because it’s dramatic and there’s no dialogue, we’re leaning into the visual storytelling of it all. This makes it seem a little bit more sophisticated.”

Tartakovsky says he even tries to make “the blood spurts look beautiful and designed”: “We’re not doing it for shock value.” The show also added the escaped female slave Mira (voiced by Laëtitia Eïdo) at the end of Season 1 because the creator felt it worked for the story.

‘Kevin’ (Prime Video)

Talking cats are not new to animation. But this one is going through the very human roller coaster of a relationship rebound and self-discovery.

Joe Wengert co-created “Kevin” with ex-girlfriend/series voice actor Aubrey Plaza as a cathartic thought experiment about their actual pet cat, Kevin. (Jason Schwartzman voices him in the show.)

“It’s more fun to write for the animals,” says Wengert, whose credits include Netflix’s animated “Big Mouth” and Fox’s live-action “New Girl.” “They have another level of crazy.”

The show also doubles as therapy.

“I’ve always been too into my relationship and I sort of neglect my friends,” he says, adding that “I’ve always wanted to write something about that, but it’s kind of sad when it’s a human man. It’s less sad when it’s a cat.”

‘Long Story Short’ (Netflix)

Raphael Bob-Waksberg, who also created Netflix’s “BoJack Horseman,” knows his beat is animated shows that are both funny and thought-provoking. He says the difference with “Long Story Short,” in addition to it being about humans and not an anthropomorphic horse, is that it has “sadness we can relate to.”

“Here, we see characters sad in the way that we are sad and we go, ‘Oh, this is not a cartoon exaggeration of our sadness.’ This is exactly the same as our sadness,” Bob-Waksberg says.

In order to keep the show from being a total buzzkill, the writers will craft scenes like an intense conversation between adult siblings about fertility treatments in the midst of the chaos and the bizarre costuming of a child’s dance concert.

He says you can do this in live-action, but it would have to be something in the Tina Fey-Robert Carlock style like NBC’s “30 Rock” or Netflix’s “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” which are known for rapid-fire bits.

“Usually in live-action, when you think about dramedy, your head goes to like, well, not too funny and not too dramatic. And my shows are kind of the opposite,” he laughs.

‘Mating Season’ (Netflix)

Like another show Andrew Goldberg co-created, Netflix’s “Big Mouth,” “Mating Season” is about sex and relationships. But, because it’s not about kids, it can be less metaphoric. And, because it’s about a group of Gen Z-ish forest animals, it can almost seem … cute?

“It feels less voyeuristic than with people,” Goldberg explains of “Mating Season.”

Goldberg, who loves nature documentaries like Netflix’s “Life on Our Planet,” says they opened the second episode of “Mating Season” with a parody documentary because “we wanted to remind people as much as possible that, yes, these are cartoon characters. But these animals are real, and they’re out there, and they’re going about their lives.”

He says the writers were also inspired by dating shows about humans such as Netflix’s “Love Is Blind” and Peacock’s “Love Island,” because “we really discovered, as we were writing the first season, how much the show was a romantic comedy.”

‘Strip Law’ (Netflix)

“Strip Law,” about a Las Vegas lawyer attempting to live up to his late mother’s legacy, is a David and Goliath story, in which Adam Scott’s Lincoln Gumb and a ragtag crew attempt to defeat the powerful and nefarious attorney Steve Nichols (Keith David). It’s also a send-up of legal procedurals, with Lincoln’s cases including a fight over who’s the real Santa Claus and a custody battle that devolves into a theological debate. Even the season finale is a meta masterpiece that’s told from the points of view of Lincoln’s rival attorneys.

“It would be disingenuous to say we weren’t at least a little trying to weird people out,” creator Cullen Crawford laughs.

Crawford cut some of his teeth on CBS’ “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert,” but says he switched formats when he got burned out writing jokes about President Trump. He says that, at least in the comedy world, “a good animation writer will be a good live-action writer and the other way around, to an extent, as long as you understand the mediums.”

Few people do simmering panic as nimbly as Sarah Goldberg.

In her role as Dr. JoAnne Felder, a performance psychologist tending to the mercurial psyches of the billionaire man-children of Silicon Valley on the new AMC satire “The Audacity,” Goldberg careens from serene to slapstick as she tries to keep a lid on her increasingly unruly life.

It is the latest in a string of enviably layered characters for the Vancouver native, including her Emmy-nominated breakout turn as aspiring actor Sally Reed on the HBO contract killer dramedy “Barry” and the coolly calculating portfolio manager Petra Koenig on the network’s drama “Industry.”

“I’m definitely learning some large tech and finance words that I didn’t know,” she says with a laugh about her recent wealth-adjacent roles on a Zoom from London, where she makes her home. “I’m not sure if I’ll retain them.”

Given the accolades, it seems likely Goldberg only needs to memorize her lines and the rest will follow.

While she has given a distinctive performance in each of her roles, one of several threads tying the characters together is a moment when fear, rage, excitement, ambition or all of the above collide but must be contained. While that discipline sometimes devolves into delicious displays of apoplexy — witness Goldberg’s incredible, expletive-littered elevator meltdown in “Barry” — the 40-year-old actor is more often the face of diplomacy while telegraphing cortisol levels in the red beneath her placid exterior.

“As a blond Canadian, I really ran the risk of being the girl next door,” she says of her attempt to dodge typecasting onscreen after cutting her teeth onstage in London and New York in the mid-2010s. “I didn’t want to be the girl next door … maybe the girl next door with bodies in the basement.”

While the only bodies to be found in JoAnne’s basement on “The Audacity” are her eavesdropping son and his friends, the London Academy of Music & Dramatic Art (LAMDA) graduate has accomplished the mission of subverting what might have been a perky ingenue image with the role. (One she will continue, since the series has already gotten a Season 2 order.)

When the ethically challenged therapist starts dabbling in insider trading thanks to info gleaned from her patients — including bold tech names Duncan Park (Billy Magnussen) and Carl Bardolph (Zach Galifianakis) — the slippery slope awaits.

Goldberg with “The Audacity” co-star Billy Magnussen.

(Ed Araquel / AMC)

“I think that she started her career with a desire to help people and somewhere along the line she’s become incredibly jaded and she’s exhausted by being the most intelligent person in the room and yet having no material wealth to show for it,” says Goldberg of her character, whose struggles extend to motherhood of son Orson (Everett Blunck) and marriage to child psychologist Gary (Paul Adelstein).

It does not help that JoAnne is surrounded by people who have no trouble sliding headfirst down the slope as if it were an Aspen trail.

“She’s working with people who have so many houses that if one burns down, it doesn’t matter, and yet she’s struggling to keep the roof over her own head. So somewhere along the line she starts making these little contracts with herself thinking, ‘In this sea of moral bankruptcy, is my tiny little transgression really so bad? Or is it even justified?’ But these little small pacts start to snowball. You can see somebody torn between their better judgment, their core instinct, their humanity, and someone who is so frustrated that they’re stepping toward a kind of nihilism.”

That sense of inner conflict appeals to Goldberg, who says she knew instantly that she had to play JoAnne when she read the script by showrunner Jonathan Glatzer. “It’s rare for me to go out and be like, ‘I have to play this role!’” she says, adding with a laugh, “I can be quite passive. I can be quite Canadian in the American market. I felt like he’d found this incredible line of satire with pathos, which is my favorite kind of style.

“I’m always interested in playing characters on the precipice of losing their moral compass and which way they decide to go,” she continues. “And if JoAnne has anything in common with Sally from ‘Barry,’ because they’re such different characters, it’s that. … I love that Jonathan’s given JoAnne very mundane relatable problems in a world where the scale is so off and there’s a lot that the average person can’t relate to in that bubble.”

Goldberg has also been busy creating her own bubble, writing, producing and starring in the Canadian-Irish series “Sisters” — which just concluded its second season on AMC — with Irish actor Susan Stanley, her best friend since their LAMDA days. The odd couple sibling comedy finds Goldberg playing Sare, a buttoned-down Canadian who goes to Ireland to find her long-lost biological father (Donal Logue) and discovers shambolic half-sister Suze (Stanley).

“I was pretty shocked at how hard it is to get something made,” she says of the series’ six-year journey to screen. “And then to be in a leadership position where you’re inviting everyone to dinner and you’ve got to make sure there are three courses and being responsible for everybody’s well-being — it was wildly challenging, but absolutely thrilling.”

While she prepares to return to JoAnne’s world in Palo Alto — her hometown of Vancouver serving as a double — Goldberg feels very fortunate about where she’s landed.

“I’ve been so lucky at this stage in my career to work on scripts that I feel are really saying something and characters that I feel are morally complex and also to be in the business at a time where female characters are more complicated.”

Ted Danson is apologizing for roasting onetime paramour Whoopi Goldberg while wearing blackface.

It was the fall of 1993 at the Friars Club in Manhattan, and the occasion was a roast of the “Sister Act” star, who at the time called Danson her “best friend.” Danson, fresh off the heels of an 11-season run on “Cheers,” and Goldberg, who was at the height of her film career, had been tangled up in a not-so-secret love affair that sprang up while filming “Made in America.” Danson was freshly split from his second wife, producer Cassandra Coates, who served him divorce papers after the tabloids outed his fling with Goldberg earlier that year.

To make matters messier, Danson and Goldberg’s romance was cooling off and the two actually tried to get out of the Friars roast, but the club said the tickets had been sold and the show must go on.

According to The Times’ archives, Goldberg said she wrote the racial-slur-laden monologue that Danson delivered wearing black minstrel makeup with exaggerated lips in white. On the podcast, Danson said he’d been preparing for the skit for months, sure he was going to nail it. “Within 20 seconds I was like, I stuck my finger in a light socket,” Danson told W. Kamau Bell on the “Who’s With Me?” podcast.

At least two among the more than 2,000 guests at the roast protested. TV talk show host Montel Williams walked out, and New York City Mayor David Dinkins left the event early.

“My brain was going: Here is one of the most outrageous, funny Black women in the world, and I’m supposed to be roasting her, and I’m not a stand-up. I can’t run with the bulls. I’m an actor; if the material is funny, I can be funny,” Danson said.

“And then I thought, well, I can do performance theater. I looked at all these tapes, and it’s like, well if I were Black, I could say all these outrageous things, I’m not. Then my mind went, well, I will do it in blackface.”

Danson prefaced discussing the incident by saying that if he stammered throughout it was because it was uncomfortable talking about an affair he had when he was married, and that he’s been married to his third wife, Mary Steenburgen, for 32 years.

As for the blackface incident, “I have no problem talking about [it],” he said, adding that he wants to apologize for the rest of his life for the major flub. Although the incident happened more than three decades ago, internet fodder lasts forever, and Danson said he wanted to address it because somebody today can happen upon the incident online and think, “What the f—?”

Danson continued, “That this white guy could have something valuable to say about race and race relations was so stupid and entitled.”

He said he thought: “I know it’s bold, but I can pull this off, and that was so arrogant and stupid on my part. So off I go using all this horrendous language describing our love affair, while also in blackface. And I’d run it past Whoopi, and maybe she just didn’t want to squelch my creativity. … I worked for months, by the way, months.”

Earlier in the conversation, Bell told Danson that he wanted to give him his flowers for knowing how to apologize in public. “How to say ‘oops.’”