Dead Like Me

Our Review

Bryan Fuller’s first great meditation on death (before Wonderfalls and Pushing Daisies completed his weird-girl trilogy): George, an 18-year-old killed by a falling toilet seat from the deorbiting Mir space station, becomes a grim reaper — an undead soul-collector working a route in Seattle with a crew of fellow dead: a ’20s starlet, a meter maid, a British drunk, and Mandy Patinkin’s Rube, the gruff supervisor whose Post-it notes assign each soul’s time of death.

The premise is a workplace comedy about mortality: reapers get no pay beyond what they take from the dead, no rules beyond “don’t get attached,” and no answers. Ellen Muth’s George — deadpan and furious about dying before her life started — is a perfect Fuller heroine: annoyed at the afterlife’s bureaucracy. The show’s compassion (every soul of the week gets a gentle, human sendoff) gives it real warmth. Canceled after two seasons — Fuller’s shows have a habit of dying young, which the show itself would find hilarious.

Verdict: Watch it. The quirkiest, kindest show about death ever made.