Long Story Short creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg is an expert at pairing a belly laugh with a gut punch. Look no further than his work on the critically acclaimed comedy BoJack Horseman, which combined ridiculous gags with poignant examinations of depression, addiction, and trauma.
Now, Bob-Waksberg serves up a similar cocktail of hilarity and heady topics in Long Story Short. The series, which Netflix has already renewed for Season 2, centers on a Jewish family in Northern California. The Schwooper siblings — a hybrid of their parents' last names, Schwartz and Cooper — burst onto the screen as a fully fledged, instantly lovable crew. But it's Long Story Short's nonlinear structure that truly takes it over the edge, crafting a tender look at all the ways our families can help or hinder us over the span of our lives.
Long Story Short's Schwooper siblings are an instant classic TV family.
Meeting the Schwoopers is like being wrapped in a hug that goes on just a tad too long: It's warm and fuzzy, but a lot all at the same time.
That's because Bob-Waksberg throws us into the Schwoopers' dynamic headfirst, hitting us with a barrage of fast-paced dialogue, inside jokes, and a complex web of interpersonal relationships that feel lived-in from the jump. After just a few moments with the Schwoopers, you'll think you've known them for years. (By the end of Season 1, you will have known them for years, as the series spans decades.)
The eldest of the Schwooper siblings is Avi (voiced by Ben Feldman), the nerdiest of the crew and the child who eventually becomes the most distant from the family's Jewish faith. Middle child Shira (voiced by Abbi Jacobson) navigates the chaos of being the only Schwooper daughter, all while hoping her negative experiences with her own family don't influence the family she plans to start with her partner Kendra (voiced by Nicole Byer). Youngest Schwooper Yoshi (voiced by Max Greenfield) is the black sheep of the family, misunderstood by his parents and still trying to find himself out, be it through new work ventures or religious shifts.
Presiding over it all are parents Naomi Schwartz (voiced by Lisa Edelstein) and Elliot Cooper (voiced by Paul Reiser). The two couldn't be more different. Naomi is overbearing as can be, and always ready to guilt-trip her children over the smallest perceived wrong. The kind, yet deferent Elliot often fades to the background by comparison.
With these five pieces, Long Story Short builds out a TV family that manages to be both grounded and the right amount of absurd. Each backseat sibling scuffle or chaotic family dinner feels pulled from real life, albeit heightened for comedic effect. Even if your experiences don't mirror the Schwoopers' one-to-one, chances are you'll still see grains of your own family in theirs.
Long Story Short's time-hopping structure is quietly brilliant.
On top of cementing the Schwoopers' distinct characters and familial ties right from the jump, Long Story Short also crafts a rich shared history for the family that unfurls in revelatory fashion from episode to episode.
Long Story Short's episodes don't play out sequentially. Instead, each episode presents two vignettes from the Schwoopers' lives. The first serves as a cold open, often taking place in the Schwoopers' childhoods in the '90s and early 2000s. Then, once the show's charming scrapbook title sequence wraps up, Long Story Short rockets us into the future for the main focus of the episode. These range from key life events like bar mitzvahs to character-centric deep dives.
Years may have passed between vignettes, but Long Story Short's magic trick is gradually revealing how the events of the cold open have stayed with the Schwoopers for their entire lives, and how they continue to impact their adulthoods.
For example, Long Story Short's second episode opens with a family beach trip. As kids, Avi and Shira playact lifeguard rescues. However, when it's Shira's turn to be "saved," Avi decides to run off and play with their older cousins instead. His abandonment and unreliability in that moment is why, many years later, Shira struggles to ask him to be a sperm donor for her and Kendra.
That's just one of the many ways in which Long Story Short resurfaces old family wounds. Each episode collapses the past into the present, until the Schwoopers' adult and child selves may as well be co-existing on screen. (In some poignant sequences, they actually do.)
Hopping between the past and present isn't a new tactic in TV. In fact, I wish some shows would rely less on it less! However, in Bob-Waksberg and his team's hands, Long Story Short's non-linear chronology becomes a gutting weapon, one that explores how small moments from our childhood — even those that anyone else might find inconsequential — can have a long-lasting, sometimes traumatizing impact.
Long Story Short surrounds its portrayal of a deeply dysfunctional family with enough absurdity to keep things on the lighter end. Wolves invade a school campus, and no one bats an eye. Yoshi gets roped into selling mattresses that come in tubes. Each storyline is ridiculous, but ultimately winds up revealing a deeper truth about the Schwoopers.
Further adding to the lightness is Long Story Short's animation style, whose vibrant colors and hand-drawn look recall illustrated storybooks, or even family drawings that would earn pride of place on any family refrigerator.
Of course, in Long Story Short's case, these drawings also come with their fair share of family trauma and thorny parental relationships. But that's family, the show seems to say: You're going to have a lot of wonderful, supportive experiences, and you're also going to get pretty messed up. And somehow, Long Story Short manages to roll that contradiction into one beautiful, heart-wrenching show.
