Two New Comedies Try to Make Sex on Campus Funny Again

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The first episode of Netflix’s Vladimir opens with Rachel Weisz waking up from a restless sleep and immediately being bombarded with text messages. She then looks directly at the camera with a desperate expression and says, as her character, “I just want a simple life. If I can’t have control, can I at least avoid everyone else’s problems? Their actions? Their demands?”

The word “free” appears four times in this character’s speech, which often breaks the fourth wall. She’s a novelist struggling with writer’s block, and also an English teacher at a small college. A college campus is a fitting place to explore the idea of freedom—and the problems that come with it—because it’s where people are theoretically protected to think and learn independently, and try out new ideas. The school motto veritas vos liberabit—the truth will set you free—is common for a reason.

Disagreements about what truly defines freedom and truth have always made college campuses places of debate and conflict. Throughout history, from the civil rights movement and protests against the Vietnam War to current discussions about Israel and Palestine, campuses have been centers for activism. But one debate consistently draws outside attention: how much freedom of expression should be allowed on campus? This includes questions about whether all speech, even if inaccurate or offensive, should be protected, and whether faculty and students should have complete freedom in their interactions, including personal relationships.

The issues explored in these stories aren’t new to fiction, but authors—including the creator of Vladimir and the author of the original novel, Julia May Jonas, who are both educators—have been focusing on them recently. Following the #MeToo movement and discussions around “cancel culture,” works like Mary Adkins’ Privilege, the film After the Hunt, and the TV series The Chair have examined the consequences when students accuse teachers of wrongdoing, be it sexual misconduct or issues with their teaching. These stories generally end tragically, with all involved—the accused, the accuser, and even those who witness the situation—ultimately worse off than they were before.

Both Vladimir and HBO’s Rooster, debuting March 8th, offer a different approach. While they have distinct styles, both are genuinely funny explorations of how sex scandals disrupt close-knit, intellectual academic circles. Importantly, they treat characters with empathy, refusing to simply label them as predators or victims – a refreshing choice, especially now. It feels somewhat strange that it took concerns about campus freedoms to encourage understanding within these communities.

I really appreciate that this show doesn’t try to make light of serious issues like assault. While the relationships are complicated – with cheating, age gaps, and changing expectations – they thankfully aren’t treated as jokes. Honestly, it feels less like a sharp critique of university life and more like a classic workplace comedy, similar to Bill Lawrence’s other shows like Ted Lasso and Shrinking. It centers around a relatable guy – a single, somewhat lost middle-aged dad. He’s flawed, sure, but also genuinely kind and generous. He’s learned a lot from his own mistakes, and he uses that wisdom to help others around him grow and become better versions of themselves, creating a really supportive community.

The show Rooster offers a unique take on the classic story of a struggling author. Greg, the main character, is a shy and insecure writer still reeling from his divorce. He escapes into his work by creating wildly popular, over-the-top novels featuring a confident hero named Rooster. The character could be unlikeable, but Steve Carell, known for his role as Michael Scott, brings a charm that makes him endearing. Greg’s daughter, Katie, is a professor whose husband, Archie (played by Phil Dunster, who also starred in Ted Lasso), is having an affair with someone outside of his students, sparking rumors around their small college town. When Greg visits Katie, he unexpectedly ends up as a writer-in-residence, thanks to the college president (John C. McGinley), who is very focused on wellness and masculinity.

Lawrence and his co-showrunner, Matt Tarses, playfully satirize current attitudes about sex and relationships. The show highlights a double standard: male teachers are constantly forced to explain themselves for minor, innocent remarks (like one teacher jokingly calling a student “my white whale” and being accused of body-shaming), while female students openly talk about their romantic successes and actively pursue those they’re interested in. Katie unintentionally becomes a symbol for a younger feminist movement, much to her embarrassment when her image appears on merchandise. While these types of jokes aren’t new, they’re delivered without malice and feel more original than the show’s broader political humor. A scene featuring vegans and gun-control advocates arguing in a shared free speech zone feels strikingly similar to the 1994 film PCU, which also parodied political correctness on college campuses.

As a movie fan, what I really loved about Rooster is how it uses Archie’s mistake to explore the humor in good people messing up and trying to fix things. The cast is huge and instantly likeable. Greg even gets a sweet romance with a poet, played by Danielle Deadwyler – she’s basically the quirky students to his Coach Lasso. And honestly, Archie’s girlfriend, Lauren Tsai, is a breath of fresh air; she’s a super honest, logical scientist, not some typical ‘other woman’. Plus, quick appearances by Connie Britton and Robby Hoffman are a real treat. What struck me most about the film is how casually it handles a pretty scandalous situation – a teacher-student affair – just making it part of the everyday campus life.

The show, titled Vladimir—a clear nod to author Vladimir Nabokov—is set in a university town, even featuring a bakery named after a character from Lolita. It’s the stronger of the two programs, largely due to Rachel Weisz’s captivating performance, which blends sensuality and humor before unexpectedly turning unsettling. Beyond the acting, Vladimir explores deeper themes thanks to its insightful look at a world of art and intellect, where lofty ideals clash with everyday bureaucracy and the realities of aging. It examines how youthful passion is celebrated in principle but often stifled in practice—something the other show doesn’t quite achieve.

The film immediately presents Rachel Weisz’s character in a disturbing scene: she wanders around in a nightgown, worried she’s lost her appeal, while a younger, attractive man, who’s chained up, begins to yell. (The fact that she questions her own attractiveness suggests she might not be telling the truth.) The story then jumps back six weeks, and her captivating personality initially distracts us from the possibility that she’s dangerous.

She and her husband, John (played by a convincing John Slattery), were once admired in the English department. However, they’ve become outcasts, similar to Archie and Katie but facing even greater disapproval, after past consensual relationships John had with former students came to light. These relationships occurred over a decade ago, before the school prohibited teachers from dating students. Despite this, John is now facing possible dismissal. His wife is either seen as a victim, or people assume she knew and accepted his behavior, unaware of their open marriage. Adding to the complexity, the investigation against John is being led by David (Matt Walsh), a colleague she almost left her husband for years ago. He’s now a timid man who frequently drops and eats dropped cheese puffs.

The main character copes with her frustrating life by becoming intensely attracted to Vladimir (Leo Woodall), a new, married colleague. The story shows her vivid, passionate daydreams about them being together. Vladimir is a successful novelist with a complicated marriage to a struggling writer (Jessica Henwick) who relies on him for emotional and practical support. He’s mysterious and hard to read – his texts and smiles could be playful or simply friendly. Without knowing he’s the man we see tied up at the beginning, the protagonist’s intense infatuation might seem less concerning.

Vladimir’s comedy is unflinchingly dark and often uncomfortable. Like her previous film, After the Hunt, it explores complicated power struggles and widespread hypocrisy, showing how almost everyone is flawed. However, this film differs from its predecessor by finding a lot of humor in sex, ambition, and familiar character types that feel very real to the academics depicted. More importantly, Jonas recognizes that people don’t have to be intentionally malicious to cause pain; simple selfishness and the pursuit of pleasure can be enough, whether it affects John’s former girlfriend or their daughter, who uncovers more about her parents’ intimate lives than she’d like. This film presents a more cynical view than Rooster’s belief in rehabilitation, acknowledging that some harm can’t be undone and that those who most often receive understanding and forgiveness are privileged men.

The TV adaptation of Vladimir is much more lighthearted than the book. This could be because television often sticks to clear genre expectations. However, it also reflects how the cultural conversation has changed since the novel came out in 2022. The focus has shifted from the #MeToo movement to international conflicts, economic hardship, and the impact of a second Trump presidency – especially on already vulnerable communities. As a result, public sentiment has become less charged. Characters like John and Archie don’t need to be portrayed as outright villains; their flaws can be presented as more nuanced and human, as long as their actions don’t reach the level of notoriety seen in cases like the Epstein files.

As a lifelong movie lover, I’ve always enjoyed films set in universities – they often feel like these quirky, self-contained worlds. But honestly, what’s happening in higher education right now is genuinely scary, and it’s starting to feel like those movies are depicting a bygone era. It’s not just internal debates about curriculum anymore. There’s a real attack from the right, starting with book bans and going all the way to lawsuits and funding cuts for universities that allow protests. It’s shifted the conversation from what academic freedom means to if it can even survive. It’s wild to think that both staunch free speech advocates and students feeling unheard might actually find common ground over this – they have to, really. Because if things keep going this way, those campus dramas we love will start to feel like nostalgic glimpses of a much more innocent time.

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2026-03-05 21:07