Mr. and Mrs. Smith
Blew my expectations away. Borderline-pornographic direction and aesthetics courtesy of Hiro Murai, and a surrealism reminiscient of atlanta in many ways
— these stories, these things happening, they are not real but they're still useful vehicles — and in other ways more reminiscient of Bojack Horseman,
a show that would also treat you to bouts of tonal whiplash. (This series owes a lot to animation in general, and I think the suspension of disbelief that
episodes like 6 require are easier to stomach when you're already looking at cels.)
The chemistry between Erskine and Glover is perfect, both in terms of the highs and the lows; the show nails both the arc and the landing. Selfishly, I respect the show for not spending any time on the machinations or meta-plot of "what/how is Hihi?" That's not what the show is interested at all. Glover's wardrobe is insanely good. Not a life-changing show, but perfectly executed and if they manage to backdoor themselves into a second season I'll be excited to watch.