Pam & Tommy is as trashy of a show as one would expect. It's raunchy and, in just three episodes, has already showcased the silliest antics, including a sequence featuring an anatomical animatronic, and reckless usage of firearms. It has its fair share of nudity and F-bombs, along with a killer throwback soundtrack, featuring some of the best hits from the late-eighties and nineties — Gwen Stefani, Nine Inch Nails, Belinda Carlisle.
However, despite its great performances and impressive writing, it has one major drawback: The exploitation of Pamela Anderson. The queasiness of the production was heightened to ridiculous lengths during Pam & Tommy's press circuit where the cast and creatives were adamant about shifting the narrative surrounding the sensitive event tackled in the series. Despite having not received Anderson's consent to tell her story, those involved with the production continue to express that they have the best intentions in making the story. But given its sensitive subject matter, it comes off as artificial and shallow in the series' debut episodes.
Pam & Tommy tells the real-life exploits of Baywatch star, and sex icon, Pamela Anderson, and her husband Mötley Crüe's Tommy Lee. The miniseries reunites I, Tonya director Craig Gillespie with Sebastian Stan, best known for playing Bucky Barnes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Stan's transformation into Lee was incredible. The clean-cut actor expertly channeled the drummer's boyish charm. For the role, Stan dyed his hair black, covered his toned physique in dark ink, and mimicked Lee's mindless and aggressive stance towards just about everything. Within minutes, the character is seen abusing his hired construction workers, waving around guns, and shamelessly pining over Anderson.
This is where Lily James enters. Popular for her roles in Baby Driver and Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again!, Pam & Tommy may be James' most impressive performance, yet. In addition to her physical transformation for the role, James also fully embodies Anderson's sexual appeal and strong-willed energy, effortlessly keeping up with Stan's Lee. The two have addictive chemistry, making it easy for the viewers to romanticize their relationship, despite their known tragic demise.
But what about the conflict? As teased in the show's synopsis and trailer, Pam & Tommy follows the sensationalized leak of the couple's sex tape. But episodes 1-3 don't get there yet. After Lee rudely fires his construction team and grossly underpays them, carpenter Rand Gauthier, played by Seth Rogen, decides to break into the rocker's mansion. He finds Anderson and Lee's sex tape, locked away in a safe, and decides to devise a plan to mass distribute it. This is where things get a bit dicey. The series jumps between past and present, as well as narratives. So far, half of the show has been devoted to Anderson and Lee's increasingly-domestic life — the impromptu sing-a-long to The King and I was adorable — and the other half is all about Gauthier, who is not nearly as sleazy as he should be.
Rogen's Gauthier has a mix of in-depth knowledge about theology and the porn industry, offering comedic relief and quick bits of insightful tidbits — at one point he's seen explaining the religious origins of Lee's pentagram tattoo to the uninterested rock star. It's this strange juxtaposition that seems inauthentic to the series, and unserving. While the series hasn't, yet, dissolved into the tape's wrongful distribution, it is clear that it is setting viewers up to feel sympathy for all parties, otherwise, why would they need to see a glimpse into Gauthier's poverty-stricken lifestyle, childhood neglect, and messy divorce?
Taking a backseat to all of this is a storyline about Anderson's treatment in the Hollywood industry. The black comedy has inserted bits of the blonde actor craving validation in her career and activism, despite the shady treatment she receives from her director and supporting team. Viewers watch Anderson's devastation as her lines get cut during the filming of Baywatch and the press refuses to treat her seriously, offering comments on her looks rather than her career. At one point, she's sat at a press table, with multiple male reporters, and instead of prompting questions about her professional life, they insert first-date-esque conversation pieces— bragging about their own career and asking her where she's from.
Undeniably, Pam & Tommy is treating Anderson with the kindness she deserved from the media decades ago. It doesn't reduce her character to explicit sexual scenes or ditzy, blonde-girl moments, but it still treats her personhood as a background object. Perhaps the series would've been easier consumed if the creatives weren't clearly trying to make it something that it isn't. It's one thing to present an ethical perspective on a controversial topic, which the show genuinely does, but it's another to approach it with a dangerous savior complex — one that seeps through Pam & Tommy's script.
New episodes of Pam & Tommy stream on Hulu every Wednesday.