Normal People is a slow-burn love story about two people who can barely stand each other. That tension is the point. Based on Sally Rooney’s novel of the same name, the Hulu original series follows Connell Waldron (Paul Mescal) and Marianne Sheridan (Daisy Edmond) through their final year of high school and their first year of college, tracking the way social status, family pressure and personal insecurity shape every moment they share. It is a quiet, deliberate portrait of intimacy that rewards patience. The show earns its runtime by letting scenes sit and breathe, and it pays off in a finale that feels earned rather than rushed.
Trailer, via BBC.
Connell and Marianne
Connell is the working-class football star whose father drives a garbage truck. Marianne is the wealthy, isolated daughter of a single mother who has moved her family across the country to escape her past. Their relationship begins at a party where Connell, desperate for status, pretends he does not know Marianne. She sees through him immediately and asks him to tutor her for English class. That exchange sets the pattern for the entire series: Connell wants acceptance, and Marianne wants connection.
The casting is perfect. Mescal brings a grounded, almost shamed warmth to Connell, a boy who carries his family’s shame around like a second skin. Edmond plays Marianne as brittle and guarded, a woman who has learned to protect herself by pushing others away. Their chemistry is the engine of the show. Every scene between them, even the ones where they are fighting, crackles with a mutual pull that neither can fully admit.
Social Hierarchy
Normal People is not a romance in the usual sense. It is a study of how privilege and position determine who gets to love and be loved. Connell’s friends call him a “wanker” for dating Marianne, and Marianne’s friends mock him for his background. The show does not soften this. It shows the cruelty of social hierarchy directly, through snide remarks and exclusion, and it does not let either character off the hook for their own internalized prejudices.
The series also tracks how their families shape them. Connell’s father is proud of him, but Connell feels his pride is conditional on his success. Marianne’s mother is absent, consumed by her own trauma, and Marianne carries that absence with her. These forces push both characters toward each other even as they push them apart.
The Writing
The adaptation stays faithful to Rooney’s novel without feeling slavish to it. The dialogue is naturalistic and often unspoken. Characters say things indirectly, through glances and silences, and the show trusts the audience to follow. This can frustrate viewers used to sitcom clarity, but it fits the source material. The pacing is deliberate, and the show takes its time with transitions between seasons of life, letting the passage of time feel real rather than abrupt.
The production design captures the specific textures of Ireland: the green fields, the grey streets, the cramped houses. The lighting is soft and diffused, giving the series a dreamlike quality that matches its emotional register. The music, a mix of indie pop and folk, reinforces the melancholic tone without overwhelming it.
High School Years
The first half of the series covers Connell and Marianne’s senior year of high school. It is the most vivid stretch, full of parties, exams and late-night conversations. The show does not romanticize youth. It shows the petty jealousies, the cruel jokes, the loneliness that comes from being different. Connell is popular but lonely, and Marianne is popular but invisible. They find each other because they are both hiding.
The central incident of this period is a party where Marianne is humiliated by a group of girls, and Connell steps in to defend her. It is a small act, but it changes everything between them. The show lingers on the aftermath, showing how Marianne interprets the moment and how Connell processes his own intervention. This is the template for the whole series: a small action that ripples outward.
College Years
The second half jumps forward to their first year of university in Dublin. The dynamic shifts. Marianne, who has always felt inferior, now has Connell to measure herself against. Connell, who has always felt superior to his classmates, now feels inferior to Marianne. The roles reverse, and the show tracks the friction that comes from that reversal.
The college years are darker. Marianne struggles with anxiety and depression, and the show does not shy away from the specifics of her mental health. Connell’s own insecurities surface more openly. The relationship becomes less about attraction and more about dependency, and the show handles that shift with a rare honesty. There is no easy resolution. The show ends with a note of uncertainty rather than closure.
The Finale
The final episode of the series is a masterclass in understatement. It does not resolve the relationship. It simply shows Connell and Marianne at a distance, years after graduation, each living a life shaped by the other. The show leaves the question open: did they make each other better or worse? The answer is not given. The viewer is left to weigh the evidence.
This is the right choice. A tidy ending would have undermined the whole project. By leaving the story unresolved, the series honors the ambiguity of real life. Love does not always have a happy ending. Sometimes it has no ending at all.
What Works
- The performances of Mescal and Edmond, who carry the show from start to finish
- The handling of social hierarchy, which is sharp and unsparing
- The fidelity to the novel’s rhythms, which the show preserves rather than flattening
- The visual style, which uses color and light to reinforce mood
- The refusal to tie things up neatly at the end
What Doesn’t
- Some of the middle episodes, which drag slightly due to the slow pace
- The occasional over-reliance on silence and implication, which can frustrate viewers looking for explicitness
Final Word
Normal People is a difficult watch because it refuses to be easy. It is a story about love that is also a story about pain. It is a story about connection that is also a story about distance. It is a story about Ireland that is also a story about adolescence. It is a story that deserves the attention it demands.
The series is available to stream on Hulu. If you want to see a romance done right, this is the place to start. It is not a comfort watch. It is a demanding watch. But it is a rewarding one.
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