Firefly Lane review: Time-hopping Netflix drama is the comeback Katherine Heigl has always deserved

Cosy and autumnal slice-of-life dramas like this one rarely get the credit they deserve

Netflix has invested a lot lately in folksy tales of small-town America. These new dramas have names that sound like scented candles, among them Sweet Magnolias and Virgin River, and regularly top the streaming service’s most-watched charts – even if they draw a fraction of the press of a Bridgerton or an Emily in Paris. They star likeable actors in roles such as “single mother who returns to her hometown with her teenage daughter”, or “lonely widow attracted to hunky farmer”. They are often far-fetched and clunky, but also serve a necessary purpose. These are Sunday afternoon shows, all wrapped in autumnal colours and buoyed by drama never too lightweight yet never too intense. Firefly Lane, the latest in this pumpkin spice television universe, practically comes with its own set of blankets and wine glasses.

Katherine Heigl and Sarah Chalke are Tully and Kate, best friends joined at the hip from adolescence to middle age. The show skips between different time periods, beginning with the pair as teenagers (where they’re played by Ali Skovbye and Roan Curtis), then in their early twenties in 1982 (cue Heigl and Chalke with matching Farrah Fawcett hair and de-ageing camera filters), and their forties in 2003.

Much like the po-faced smash This Is Us, which Firefly Lane’s twist-heavy time-hopping apes, the traumas of each respective era collide into each other. Romances embarked upon in 1982 have shocking ramifications in 2003; their identical career paths as young women have wildly diverged by the new Millennium; and so on. It is soapy, silly and goes down easy.

Heigl is its greatest asset. The former Grey’s Anatomy actor has been owed a comeback for a while. Around 15 years ago, she was one of Hollywood’s most in-demand names, and a trio of hit romcoms (Knocked Up, 27 Dresses, The Ugly Truth) appeared to cement her as a full-fledged movie star. But in tandem with her ascent came a reputation for being “difficult” – a death sentence for any woman in Hollywood. She commented on the sexism of Knocked Up in an interview, and said she was disappointed with the quality of her Grey’s storylines. Someone grab the pitchforks!

Those comments did expose how ill-suited Heigl was to her cheery branding. She was always far too blunt and caustic to be America’s sweetheart; she wasn’t so much the girl next door as the girl smoking a cigarette a few streets over. It’s something that Firefly Lane has fun with.

As the troubled Tully, who over the years becomes a popular if unhappy talk show host, Heigl gets to embrace the prickly neuroses that have always made her such an absorbing actor. Her character is vivacious and funny yet narcissistic and destructive. The show’s strongest moments are when it zeroes in on her numerous contradictions, and how Kate is alternately uplifted and challenged by them. Series creator Maggie Friedman, whose credits include Dawson’s Creek and the short-lived but revered drama series Once and Again, seems intent on exploring the challenges of best friendship, and how sometimes those you need the most are the ones most primed to hurt you.

This isn’t to say that Firefly Lane is all doom and gloom. In fact, it’s impressively breezy for something that pulls in stories of rape, cancer and suicide. That ability to maintain an emotional and aesthetic levity at all times, even amid hefty themes, is something these kinds of shows do incredibly well. They don’t often get enough credit for that. Even if we weren’t in the midst of a pandemic, Firefly Lane’s cosy gentleness would be something to be thankful for.