Written by contributor Tom Hitchen
The only thing better than Paul Rudd is two Paul Rudd’s.
Living with Yourself debuted on Netflix on October 18th 2019 and the eight-episode series follows Paul Rudd’s hopeless character, Miles – a copywriter at a successful marketing firm – as he undergoes a strange spa treatment in the attempt to live a better, more positive life.
What he doesn’t expect is to be replaced by a cloned version of himself.
It’s safe to say that the driving force of the show is placing people’s favourite, Paul Rudd, in the leading role. The Ant-Man actor is the perfect choice for down-and-out Miles and his pessimistic view on life. He’s also the perfect choice for Miles 2.0: the outgoing, funny, almost too polished clone.
It’s always fascinating to see an actor play opposite themselves. When it’s badly done, it’s cringey and pulls focus from the plot and character development. But, when it’s done well, as is the case here, it leaves you questioning whether it’s actually Paul Rudd playing both roles or just someone who looks suspiciously like him. He’s funny, charming, and in more than a few occasions, very, very frustrating. This is an unusual angle for actor who is frequently seen in comedic, laid-back roles. It’s refreshing, and the premise of the show is great for the actor to experiment in his performer’s playground. I’d imagine it’s like giving a singer a song that explores multiple octaves and technical elements. Living with Yourself shows Rudd’s range and the depth of his acting toolbox.
Playing opposite Rudd and more than holding her own is Aisling Bea. Bea plays Rudd’s equally successful wife, interior architect, Kate. The Irish actress, who can usually be found on stage as a stand-up comedian or holding fort on 8 Out of 10 Cats, shines in this role. Her acting is nuanced and carefully executed as Kate ends up ensnared in the tricky lifestyle the two Miles’s have created.
The series is written and directed by Emmy award-winning Timothy Greenberg, and the script plays especially well into the hands of its two (three?) leads. At one time, it’s a riotous hoot of comedy and one-liners, in other times, it’s dark and miserable. The effect Greenberg achieves is a well-paced, thoroughly defined comedy-drama. It never sways too far to one side, when things go awry and tensions rise, the writer decelerates the scene with a touch of humour.
Living with Yourself is directed well, too. Greenberg utilises the effective, if not completely ground-breaking, tool of perspective. Due to the story centring around the two Miles’s fight for dominance and the ‘love-triangle’ it inevitably creates, the use of telling the same event or confrontation through a different lens works well in this instance. Not only does it give the viewer a chance to watch Paul Rudd fight Paul Rudd more than once, it also serves to highlight how dissimilar the clone and his creator are, both physically and emotionally.
The show feels almost like an allegory for seizing opportunity. It’s about taking your chance when you have it, and not letting the fear and jealously of another give you that initial kick-start to move your life forward. It does what it says on the tin: Living with Yourself gives commentary on how life would be if you encountered a ‘better’ version of yourself. Would it make you work harder? Or would it release even more pent-up frustration about your current circumstances? If you’ve always wondered, then watching Living with Yourself might give you an idea of how you’d react if another you popped up in your house in the middle of the night.
Living with Yourself isn’t a game-changer when it comes to the comedy-drama genre. But, with Rudd and Bea at the helm, the show navigates through the tricky waters of married life and gives its audience a chance to reflect on their own identity and capacity to handle life’s challenges. Whether or not you like the premise, in all its technically impossible glory, the writing, directing and most certainly acting should be more than worth your time.
I’m glad I lived through it; albeit, on my own, without Tom 2.0 by my side.
