Jane

“Dang!,” an amiably chaotic new adult animated comedy premiering Tuesday on Netflix, tells the story of the Dangs, three Chinese American siblings living in New York City. Eunice (Poppy Liu, “Hacks”) and older brother Andrew (Andrew Law) share a walk-up apartment in Chinatown; at 26, she’s still determinedly the baby, with little practical knowledge and dependent on him for the tiniest things. He’s the anxious middle child. (Therapist to Andrew: “I’m getting the sense that you’re an anxious people pleaser.” Andrew: “I’m cool with that if you are. Oh my God, are you?”) Somehow Andrew, who is gay, has a lot of casual sex, and only casual sex, despite being incredibly (and comically, obviously) awkward.

Both Andrew and Eunice, who makes money from a live stream in which “horny men and a few women with eating disorders pay me to step on bread,” are relationship averse. When it’s suggested she might like someone she’s been seeing, Eunice panics, “Am I catching feelings? Can it be stopped? Is there a vaccine? Damn whoever the president is.” There is little romance in this comedy.

Where Andrew and Eunice are aspirational slackers who spend off hours watching reality TV and taking whatever drug comes to hand, their older sister, Ruthie (Stephanie Hsu, “Everything Everywhere All at Once”), is a high-powered lawyer, more than comfortable defending evil corporations from the common people; she recoils at a community garden or free library, which she regards as socialism. (“I don’t even like fire departments.”) Though she’s seemingly the successful one, her life has taken an unexpected turn; she’s left her husband, Warren, a weedy Briton overeager to please her, and is pregnant by a colleague, a creep she idealizes. Her fall from perfection delights her brother and sister, who chant, “One of us!” She moves to New York and into the series.

Co-created by Law, who wrote for “Hacks,” “The Good Place” and “Late Night With Seth Meyers” and has acted a little, and Matt Murray (a smorgasbord of 21st century smart comedies are on his resume), the show was originally conceived as live-action. If anything like the present product, it would have to have been a very particular kind of comedy — something like “30 Rock,” whose beats were borrowed from cartoons in the first place. In any case, animation is the place it ought to be. The grotesqueness of Eunice’s boss, Jane, a product-damaged monster who is all face and very little body, if not unachievable in live-action — Katherine Helmond in “Brazil” comes to mind — isn’t really sustainable. You could not have a dead old man’s head come loose from his body and roll across a conference table with quite the same air of insouciance, or melt a rat walking across an overheated microwave oven, if actual people and rats were involved. On the other hand, the fact that Warren is so annoying reminds us that unreal people can elicit genuine repulsion. I ground my teeth at his every appearance; for Ruthie’s sake, I wanted him gone, and she isn’t real, either. It’s the magic of animation.

The show is generally amusing, sometimes very funny and easy to watch as an evolving story of family. (A visit to the Dang parents in Episode 8 is especially productive.) One’s mileage will vary depending on generation and experience. (“I was born in 1999,” says Eunice, who has never heard of Facebook. “Anything before ‘Skibidi Toilet’ is just cave paintings to me.” Of course, I had to look up “Skibidi Toilet,” and I don’t feel bad about admitting that.) There are sex jokes, fart jokes and pop culture jokes; there are jokes I don’t even want to describe. But there is a satisfying specificity to the humor, especially as involves Asian American culture, gay life, New York City and New York City gay Asian American life, which is not overexplained. The city itself is rendered with some light-handed detail — its delis, drug stores, coffee shops (why did I especially like the paper sleeves on the to-go cups?), Central Park on “Freaquinox,” “the first day that everyone decides it’s spring” when citizens turn into sex-crazed zombies. (Eunice: “Last year, I woke up next to an Uber Eats delivery robot.”)

As a situation comedy, its characters will spend their days and nights getting in and out of scrapes, enduring self-inflicted humiliations, experiencing minor triumphs; they are all a little stupid, and a little smart. And as a cartoon, its job is not just to tell you a story, but to give you something fresh to look at, something to set itself apart while offering easy access to its world and people. The character design, which borrows from anime, is elegant and a little odd — hands and feet are drawn tiny, which has the paradoxical effect of drawing your attention, making them more expressive.

Beyond the three stars and Noël Wells (as Greta, Jane’s cowed assistant), neither the producers nor the publicists nor the onscreen credits nor the usual websites have identified who played whom. But I copied down these names down from the screen: Al Roberts, Sungwon Cho, Jared Goldstein, John Michael Higgins, Adam Pally, Jaboukie Young-White and Mary Holland.

Jane Hazlegrove, who is best known for playing Bernie Winter on Coronation Street, has launched a rant at a fellow actor and her co-stars have all clamoured to know who she was talking about

Jane Hazlegrove has issued a warning to fellow TV stars about their behaviour on set. The actress, 58, who currently plays Bernie Winter on ITV soap Coronation Street and previously starred as Kathleen ‘Dixie’ Dixon on Casualty, took to Instagram over the weekend to make a statement about professionalism within the industry.

She shared an image of a quote which read: “Booking the role isn’t the end of the interview. How you behave after you’re hired matters too.”

In the caption of her post: “This post makes total sense! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? As my Dad used to say, you are only as good as your last performance! Be nice! And if you can’t be nice… step away… cos people see!”

The actress, who joined the soap in the role of Bernie in 2019 but also appeared in the mid-1980s Sue Clayton and was involved in a storyline with Jack and Vera Duckworth, was inundated with comments from co-stars.

Jack P Shepherd, who plays David Platt in the soap and has appeared on the show since 2000, said: “This isn’t me is it?”

Sally Carman, who plays Abi Webster, quickly joined in as she replied with a string of laughing emojis, but Jane said: “Soz pal you don’t win this one!!! No it’s bloody not!!!” Sue Devaney, who plays Debbie Webster on Coronation Street, left a string of heart emojis.

Loose Women star Sunetra Sarker, who appeared alongside Jane on Casualty when she played Dr Hannah, said: “Never a truer word said ma’am.”

Emmerdale legend Lisa Riley, who first appeared as Mandy Dingle more than 30 years ago and went on to appear in Waterloo Road and compete on Strictly Come Dancing before making a comeback in 2019, left a string of clapping hands emojis in the comments section of the post. Michelle Hardwick, who plays Vanessa Woodfield on Emmerdale, said: “Oh I LOVE this”

But Jane, who has also appeared in other programmes like Heartbeat, Silent Witness and Holby City over the years, quickly pinned a comment to the top of her Instagram post, so she could clear up any confusion.

She said: “Just for clarification this post is NOT about anyone I am currently working with at Coronation Street. It’s a gentle reminder to be kind and professional at all times!”

When Bernie arrived on Coronation Street, she was introduced as the estranged mother of Gemma Winter (Dolly-Rose Campbell) and Paul Foreman (Peter Ash), who was later diagnosed with motor neurone disease and died in late 2024.

Bernie went on to enter into a relationship with local shopkeeper Dev Alahan (Jimmi Harkishin) and it was later established that she was the long-lost mother of DC Kit Green (Jacob Roberts), who later turned out to be the long-lost father of Brody Michaelis (Ryan Mulvey).

Bernie, who currently works in Roy’s Rolls, went on to marry Dev towards the end of last year but was dealt with further tragedy when events that unfolded in the programme’s crossover with Emmerdale saw a crash claimed the life of her son-in-law, Billy Mayhew.

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It would be great if “The Hangover” screenwriters-turned-directors Jon Lucas and Scott Moore would leave moms well enough alone. After the one-two punch of 2016’s “Bad Moms” and 2017’s “A Bad Moms Christmas” (both bad comedies), they’ve returned with “Spa Weekend,” which isn’t about bad moms but good moms who could stand to be a little bad.

If you’re not sure how much misbehavior a few friends can get up to at a luxury resort spa, you haven’t met Isla Fisher’s Mel. Yes, “Spa Weekend” is a plate of reheated “Wedding Crashers” nachos, because no one stirs up cheerful chaos like the spirited Fisher. Her Mel brings a delightfully vulgar joie de vivre into the over-scheduled lives of her lifelong friends: workaholic lawyer Jane (Leslie Mann), bitter divorceé Coco (Michelle Buteau) and people-pleasing pushover Sophie (Anna Faris).

“Spa Weekend” is built around the same fearsome foursome ethos as shows like “Sex and the City” and “Girls,” with several different character types and lots of available friction between them. More recently, golden-years comedies like “Book Club,” “80 for Brady” and way too many movies starring the late Diane Keaton have sent friend groups on journeys that have them reevaluating relationships and life goals. Romantic, criminal and naughty hijinks ensue and bonds are tested — and ultimately reinforced. Roll the blooper reel.

Mel might be a disaster with her loud mouth and impolite antics, but her over-the-top meddling does her buddies some good. She helps uptight Jane hook up with a hunky yoga instructor (Adam Demos), gets Sophie fired from her toxic job and lures Coco’s ex-husband Roger (Dominic Ona-Ariki) to the resort for a little reconciliation. Her friends are furious, but while they might not get what they want (relaxation), they get what they need (liberation). All it took was some coke and strippers (Lucas and Moore have a bizarre fixation on moms and male strippers).

You know what? Fine. It’s true that working moms often put themselves last and “Spa Weekend” is an argument for them to come first. It’s a film about embracing the craziest friends because they bring excitement to an otherwise boring and overscheduled life. All of these things are true. They’re just executed here with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. In case we didn’t get it, these themes and lessons are spoken out loud by Jane in big declarative speeches.

One of the most distracting things about “Spa Weekend” is its uncanny geography. It’s set in Los Angeles but the cafés and shops are obviously not local and the worst, most dated stock L.A. traffic footage can’t cover that up.

They drive what seems to be about 45 minutes to the resort, through wooded forests on windy roads, and arrive in a tropical location overlooking miles of white sandy beach. At one point, Jane claims they’re 100 miles away from home. Ain’t no way this is Encinitas. Nothing about it makes sense until the credits roll and you learn the film was shot entirely in Queensland, Australia. But if one’s thinking about the geography that much, it means the story isn’t all that compelling.

Call it nitpicking but it’s indicative of how much care and craft — or how little — goes into a movie like this, aimed at female audiences. Much like the “Bad Moms” movies, “Spa Weekend” isn’t insightful, isn’t interesting and isn’t funny. It’s condescending and hacky and the humor always aims for the lowest common denominator. Please don’t expect me to laugh at the goats from goat yoga rampaging through a hotel lobby or a high-speed golf cart chase. Guess what? Mel has brought a suitcase full of dildos.

Worse than tired gags, we don’t get a sense of who these women really are in relationship to themselves or other women. We only know them through the prism of men: Jane lusts after Yoga Dude, Coco rages at Roger, Sophie is bullied by her boss. We know nothing about them outside of their superficial signifiers.

That’s why Fisher’s Mel feels so radical. She might be a grifter and a liar (a vastly underexplored subplot) but she has fully decentered men — so hard that no rule of polite society can hold her. If that’s a disaster, sign me up. But please don’t let Lucas and Moore make more comedies for women. They can stick to the frat houses and bachelor parties they’re used to.