Just as much as her devotion to music gives the show color, it's also like a love letter to those of us who get our dosage of therapy in the form of a record or playlist (a task she takes very seriously). The series definitely keeps Rob's annoying obsessive behavior, but trades what's inherently masculine and demeaning about it for a portrayal of a woman navigating a heartbreak that has warped into depression. Rob is still a jerk at times and messy in her decision-making -- e.g., ditching boys on dates, being self-absorbed, etc. -- but as hard as it is at times to root for her, Kravitz gives a nuanced portrayal of how hard it can be to confront being sad in what's maybe her most developed role yet. (Big Little Lies didn't know what to do with her, but, boy, does it catch you off guard when the series opens by interrupting her mid-sob and having her break the fourth wall to give you her list of her top five exes). It's an interesting remix of the character because while the original criticized Rob's traits, it wasn't that explicit in doing so, and here it's a more palatable (and feminine) depiction of heartbreak.
Even in its mopey-ness, High Fidelity is an enjoyable watch. Sure, some episode plots are better than others (see the episode with guest star Parker Posey, for example) and the update for 2020 can feel shoved in your face (such as the weird influencer party episode), but altogether it'll put you in your feels and its great cast makes it fun. (Rob's co-workers and friends Simon and Cherise, played by David H. Holmes and Da'Vine Joy Randolph respectively, offer some of the sweetest scenes). Kravitz's Rob may seem too cool for the most of us, and can be insufferable in her own way, but regardless High Fidelity makes you want to see her heartbreak through even if her Top Five Exes can't. Since you can't actually swing by Championship Vinyl on a slow day to get a new recommendation, you might as well binge the Hulu series to spend time with this pop fanatic before queuing up a different track.