An Acquired Taste

I have almost-never liked Season Three of Ted Lasso. With the second season feeling in conversation with the first, both through contrasting themes and through further development of existing arcs, season three didn't feel like the obvious next step in the story.

Given meta-knowledge of Jason Sudeikis' desire to leave the series, Ted's desire to return to America can come off as a limitation of production constraints. Given Season One’s snappier 30-minute runtimes, an hour per episode can feel like a slog. Given Keeley's lively chemistry with Roy and Jamie, her relationship with Jack can feel much more cold and transient. If you have ever liked this show, Season Three has probably crossed a line with you.

I myself couldn't be asked to close out the saga when watching it in full. I would get fed up watching watching Shandy's awkward ousting, or I would get bored with Jade and Nathan's chemistry. I would get headache after a while: it was bad.

The Rest of the Iceberg

I major turning point for me was Believe, a non-fiction book by Jeremy Egner chronicling the show's production and impact. Featuring interviews from cast and crew, the book does an exceptional job revealing the monumental love and care that went into every minute of the show.

From the influence of sports films of all kinds, the key role of the score, and the concerted effort to take seriously its 'dark pathos', I was consistently humbled that my many, supposedly close, viewings only scratched the surface of this phenomenon. I took for granted how easy the show is to watch for so long, but these days I try to hold onto every piece of the show's magic.

It lends the viewing experience a level of gravitas when there's a lot of the Empire Strikes Back in Season Two, or that there's a little rom com in the Rainbows episode. It's the gravitas of the cinematic and pop culture that came before them, and the beautiful corner they got to carve back into it.

As impressed I was by the project's scope and scale, the production is also characterized by its fair share of serendipity. Brendan Hunt was at a notably-low point in his career in the show's early days. Toheeb Jimoh rarely kept a straight face during Sam Richardson's outburst as Edwin Akufo in Inverting the Pyramid of Success. Phil Dunster actually made the penalty kick himself in The Signal. Beyond my generic shock that anything gets made at all, I love the miraculous joy it brought to the people who made Ted Lasso. The turning points it represented in people's careers aside, I'm just glad the cast and crew had fun making it.

The Best Version of Itself

I was eventually able to get through season three with the book at my back. And not only do I like the show now, I think it's distinctly incredible just as one and two are distinctly incredible.

I now love the longer runtimes. I can see it gives scenes to breathe, creating the illusion of a leisurely pace when everyone's stories couldn't be more on borrowed time.

I now love the harshness of Keeley's story. Sure, the scenes with Shandy and Jack are hard to watch, but they needed to be hard. It's part of Keeley's broader journey to trust herself find professional allies in Rebecca and Barbara.

I don't just love Season 3 for what it is, and I'm not just forgiving it for what it isn't. It's more that I can see all the magic that's going on just below the surface to stick the landing for everyone. It's easy to see it as a bunch of noise, but I can better see that the symphony has its rhythm.

Is it worth reading an entire book to enjoy an additional season of a TV series? Don't be silly, but it's a fun ride if you’re arrogant enough to take it.