The Four Seasons (Of Life)
The series quietly built up to moments that were so poignant, I couldn't help but tear up, especially when winter arrived.
*Spoilers ahead*
Written by Mariane Tremblay
The Four Seasons is a miniseries created by Tina Fey, Lang Fisher, and Tracey Wigfield, adapted from the 1981 movie of the same name, written and directed by Alan Alda (who makes a sweet cameo in the miniseries).
It is a fun yet deeply moving story that leaves your heart both heavy and full. With sensitivity, nuance, and a twist of humor, it explores the intricate nature of human relationships and how they evolve. Framed through the poetic allegory of the seasons (and backed by Vivaldi's The Four Seasons), the series uses the natural cycle of spring, summer, fall, and winter to reflect the emotional journey of love, friendship, and self-discovery. As we follow the characters, we witness how relationships, like the seasons, can bloom, blaze, fade, and renew.
Spring
The series kicks off in spring, when a group of lifelong friends—Kate (Tina Fey), Jack (Will Forte), Danny (Colman Domingo), and Claude (Marco Calvani)—reunite at their friends’ lake house for the weekend. Everything turns upside down when Nick (Steve Carell) announces he’s leaving his wife, Anne (Kerri Kenney-Silver), revealing that he’s no longer happy. He expresses that Anne has given up, that she doesn’t do anything, and that they both probably feel lonely—he wants to take hold of his life again.
“All she wants to do is play this farm game on her iPad.”
Spring symbolizes the beginning of a relationship—the spark, excitement, and sense of newness. Like blooming flowers and lengthening days, emotions are light, hopeful, and full of promise. It’s a time of discovery, vulnerability, and growth, where anything seems possible.
It’s the start of a new chapter in Nick’s life—not through a relationship with someone else, but with himself. Much like the season’s fresh beginnings and hopeful energy, Nick’s decision to leave Anne marks a moment of personal renewal, where he chooses to pause and reflect on his happiness. This shift mirrors the season’s themes of discovery and growth, as Nick opens himself to the possibility of a life where he can be truly content, independent of the past. The emotional lightness and promise of spring are reflected in his journey toward self-fulfillment, where everything feels full of potential.
Summer
Summer then arrives, and the group (without Anne) is on vacation at a tropical eco-resort, planned by Nick’s young new girlfriend, Ginny (Erika Henningsen), which brings a little bit of tension in the group.
Summer symbolizes the peak of emotional and physical connection, where the relationship reaches its fullest expression—stable, passionate, and alive with energy. It’s a time of warmth, comfort, and intensity, but like the heat of summer, this phase can also become overwhelming or tumultuous if passion is not tempered by understanding.
Nick’s blossoming relationship with Ginny brings both excitement and complexity. But the storm that looms in this season is embodied in the struggles of Claude and Danny. Danny feels confined in his relationship, grows frustrated by Claude’s dependency. This sense of being trapped pushes him to make a bold decision—to take a job that will keep him away for months, in search of personal space and emotional clarity. Just as summer can bring its storms, this phase in their lives is fraught with tension, testing the limits of their connection.
Fall
Fall marks a turning point. It’s a time of reflection, maturity, and sometimes letting go. Like leaves changing color and falling, relationships may evolve or begin to fade. There’s beauty in this shift—moments of gratitude, acceptance, and emotional depth as partners face truths, adapt, or decide to part.
As fall settles in, the group heads to Jack, Kate, and Danny’s alma mater for Family Weekend, where change is in the air—quiet, inevitable, and deeply personal. The crispness of the season mirrors the emotional clarity that begins to take shape: Lila confronts her father Nick about the pain his choices caused, while Anne, vulnerable and afraid of being left behind, faces the reality of growing older in a world that seems to be moving on without her. Tensions simmer between Jack and Kate as they navigate feelings of jealousy and distance, and Danny and Claude’s relationship reaches a breaking point before finding its way back to tenderness. In this season of shedding, what no longer serves is exposed, making space for growth, reconciliation, and the quiet hope that even in loss, something meaningful remains.
Winter
Winter is a season of stillness and closure—a time that often signifies heartbreak, separation, or emotional retreat. It carries a sense of solitude and pause, where feelings settle and clarity begins to emerge. Yet within this quiet lies the potential for renewal; winter may mark an ending, but it also offers space for reflection and the subtle beginnings of healing that prepare the way for what’s next.
In this final chapter, winter settles in with biting stillness, and with it comes the most devastating shift of all—loss. As the group retreats to separate ski trips to ring in the new year, tensions simmer under the surface: old wounds are reopened, relationships fray, and unexpected reunions stir confusion and discomfort. But everything changes when the news of Nick’s sudden death arrives, stopping time in its tracks. Grief then becomes the unspoken language of the season. The failed funeral, Anne’s reluctance to let Ginny speak, and the eventual emotional thaw between them speak to how mourning can isolate or unite. Amid the snow and silence, buried truths come to light, and gestures of love—Jack rescuing Kate from the lake, Anne finally seeing Ginny’s pain—begin to melt away what’s frozen. By the time Ginny’s pregnancy is revealed, winter no longer feels like just an end, but the quiet beginning of something new—a gentle promise of spring on the horizon.
I found The Four Seasons to be an incredibly emotional experience. The series quietly built up to moments that were so poignant, I couldn't help but tear up, especially when winter arrived. The way it captured the complexities of evolving relationships, love, and loss, with its quiet moments of reflection, really hit me. It’s a beautifully crafted and poetic story, one that balances humor and heartache in a way that felt deeply genuine. It’s a show that stays with you, not just because of what happens, but because of how it makes you feel.
One of the miniseries' greatest strengths is the natural chemistry between its characters. Nothing feels forced; it’s as if these people have been friends for years (and, realistically, they kinda have). The performances, especially from Fey and Domingo, really stand out—they have such an effortless connection, bringing a depth to their characters that’s a joy to watch. It’s an incredible pairing, and I honestly wish we could see them work together more often. Their dynamic adds an extra layer of authenticity to the story that elevates the entire experience.
The Four Seasons is now streaming on Netflix, and I couldn’t recommend this miniseries enough.
Photos : Netflix
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