It’s Not Like That Prime Video series does not treat starting over as a big, cinematic reset. That is clear almost immediately. The show, which arrives globally on Prime Video on May 15, keeps things smaller than expected. And that ends up being its defining choice. Here’s quick preview of the series and what to expect from the series.
Scott Foley plays Malcolm, a pastor dealing with the death of his wife while raising three kids. Lori, played by Erinn Hayes, is coming out of a divorce and trying to hold things together for her two teens. Their families were once closely connected. Now they are just trying to figure out what life looks like when the structure they relied on is gone.
It’s Not Like That: What to Expect
The show begins on this familiar note. But it does not push its characters toward dramatic transformation. There is no sudden reinvention arc. No clean emotional breakthrough that resets everything. Instead, it sits in the awkward middle where most people actually live.

This is where It’s Not Like That separates itself from a lot of current streaming dramas.
Malcolm does not suddenly become a different version of himself after loss. He is still figuring things out, still making small mistakes, still trying to stay present for his kids. And Lori is not written as someone rediscovering herself in a big, expressive way. Her version of starting over is quieter. It shows up in decisions that feel practical rather than symbolic.
That approach might feel underwhelming if you expect clear narrative turns. But it also feels closer to how life actually unfolds.
The show comes from Ian Deitchman and Kristin Robinson, who worked on Life As We Know It and Parenthood. That background is becomes apparent. The writing leans into everyday interactions rather than big plot mechanics. Conversations carry more weight than events. And the tone stays controlled, even when dealing with grief.
That balance is not easy to maintain. A story about widowhood and divorce can easily become heavy or overly sentimental. But here, the series avoids both extremes. It allows moments of humor to exist without undercutting the emotional core. And it does not force emotional catharsis where it does not belong.
The kids play a key role in reinforcing this grounded approach. With characters like Justin, Flora, Casey, Merritt, and Penelope, the show expands beyond just Malcolm and Lori. Their reactions are not exaggerated for effect. They reflect confusion, adjustment, and sometimes quiet resilience. That adds texture without turning them into narrative devices.
There is also the question the show keeps circling around. Malcolm and Lori, two people dealing with major life changes, naturally drift into each other’s orbit. This suggests a possible love story, but it doesn’t show up early on.
That hesitation continues to define the larger theme. Starting over here is not about replacing what was lost. It is about learning how to move forward without fully knowing what that forward looks like.
And that is where It’s Not Like That works best. It understands that second chances are rarely dramatic. They are usually slow, uncertain, and shaped by small choices rather than big turning points.
Everything does not necessarily turn out perfect. At times, the pacing feels a bit too relaxed, and certain emotional beats could use more weight. But the restraint is intentional. The show is less interested in delivering impact and more focused on staying honest.
In a streaming space filled with high-concept premises and heavy plotting, It’s Not Like That feels almost out of place. It chooses to stay grounded when it could have easily leaned into something bigger.
And in doing so, it ends up saying something more recognizable about what it actually means to start over.
