I Wish ‘Rooster’ Would Never End

Apparently, I’m a sucker for whatever show creator Bill Lawrence does. I love Scrubs and thought, for the most part, the 2026 revival of JD and Turk in the halls of Sacred Heart was a welcome return, even if I found the writing thin at points. But Lawrence’s Rooster, which just wrapped up on HBO Max, is where he got it completely right.

Generally, when a show is centered around the life of a writer, I find it nothing but schlock of self-love — see: Californication, a show about how “cool” a writer’s life is. When in reality, I’m writing this not draped in women dying to have sex with me, but with my headphones on, in a coffee shop, while my girlfriend texts about our dog.

That’s what makes Rooster work. A writer’s life isn’t sex with coeds every fifteen minutes. It’s a lot of the mundane, a lot of unfulfilled desires, and a life that’s relatable more so than someone who gets to live on the edge 24/7.

In a nutshell, Rooster is a ten-episode HBO comedy created by Lawrence and co-showrun with Matt Tarses. Steve Carell plays Greg Russo, a bestselling pulp fiction author whose marriage crumbles, leading him to take a writer-in-residence position at fictional Ludlow College to be near his daughter Katie, played by Charly Clive, an art history professor dealing with the fallout of her husband leaving her for a grad student. The ensemble includes Danielle Deadwyler, Phil Dunster, Lauren Tsai, and John C. McGinley as the college’s eccentric president. It’s workplace comedy, family drama, and academic satire, with Carell doing his signature awkward dad thing in a blazer instead of a suit.

The cast is excellent, but what really lands is the writing. These characters feel alive — you believe what’s happening, even when the show swings between crude jokes and softer moments. One minute Carell is doing the awkward dad routine, you believe he’s just this dorky guy who’s been dropped into this college world and is finding his groove, but within the next breath he’s calling one of the college kids he’s befriended “pig tits,” and that push and pull works. More importantly, no one exists just to serve the main plot. Every character feels like they could carry their own story, and that gives the show weight.

John C. McGinley stands out as Walter Mann. He’s not unlike Dr. Cox, his character in Scrubs, with his quickness, but here he’s just a weird guy trying to hold onto power in a changing college environment. That arc runs alongside Russo trying to show up for his daughter as she pieces her life back together. And credit to Phil Dunster, who plays Clive’s husband Archie — he’s incredibly easy to hate.

Rooster is a rare show that understands life. It doesn’t pretend things resolve cleanly or that people always make the right choices. Friends mess up. Lovers mess up. The obvious path isn’t always the real one. The show isn’t about a single theme or trope — it’s about navigating a life that rarely goes the way you expect. And it doesn’t fake-glamorize writers’ lives.

I didn’t want it to end.