Television is a brutal business. You can have a world-famous executive producer, a premise that feels "of the moment," and a prime-time slot on a major network, and still, everything can fall apart in six weeks. That is exactly the story of One Big Happy, the 2015 NBC sitcom that arrived with a massive amount of hype and vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
If you don't remember it, you aren't alone. It lasted exactly six episodes.
The show was meant to be a progressive, boundary-pushing comedy about a lesbian woman, Lizzy (Elisha Cuthbert), and her straight male best friend, Luke (Nick Zano). They decide to have a baby together via artificial insemination. Just as they finally succeed, Luke meets the love of his life, a British woman named Prudence (Kelly Brook), and marries her on a whim. Suddenly, the "one big happy" family is a trio of adults trying to navigate pregnancy, platonic love, and a brand-new marriage all under one roof.
The Ellen DeGeneres Connection
One of the biggest talking points surrounding One Big Happy was its pedigree. Ellen DeGeneres served as an executive producer through her company, A Very Good Production. At the time, Ellen was at the height of her daytime talk show power. NBC banked on her "Midas touch." They thought if Ellen put her name on a multi-cam sitcom with a laugh track, the audience would follow.
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Liz Feldman, who created the show, based much of the concept on her own life experiences. Feldman is a powerhouse in the industry now—you likely know her as the creator of the massive Netflix hit Dead to Me. But back in 2015, she was trying to translate her specific brand of observational, personal humor into the rigid format of a network sitcom.
The pedigree was there. The talent was there. So why did it feel so... stiff?
Why the Critics Weren't Buying It
When the pilot aired on March 17, 2015, the reviews were, frankly, scorched earth. Critics didn't just dislike it; they seemed frustrated by it. Jeff Jensen at Entertainment Weekly gave it a C-, noting that the show felt like it was trying too hard to be "edgy" while clinging to the most tired sitcom tropes imaginable.
The humor relied heavily on "odd couple" dynamics that felt decades old. While the central premise of a lesbian lead character was still relatively rare for a broadcast sitcom in 2015, the writing often defaulted to easy jokes about sexual orientation or Prudence’s "free-spirited" British nature. It was a show that wanted to be progressive but felt trapped in a 1990s structure.
Most viewers found the pacing frantic. Multi-cam sitcoms live and die by the rhythm of the jokes and the live audience reaction. In One Big Happy, the jokes often felt like they were screaming for a laugh rather than earning one. You’ve got Elisha Cuthbert, who proved her comedic timing in the cult classic Happy Endings, and Nick Zano, who is a naturally charismatic performer. But even their chemistry couldn't save scripts that felt like they were written by a committee trying to guess what "modern" families looked like.
The Ratings Slide
The numbers don't lie. The series premiere pulled in about 5.47 million viewers. That’s actually not a terrible start for a mid-season replacement in 2015. However, the "retention" was the problem. People tuned in out of curiosity because of the Ellen connection, but they didn't stick around.
By the third episode, the audience had dropped significantly. By the time the sixth and final episode, "Wednesday's Child," aired on April 28, the writing was on the wall. NBC officially canceled One Big Happy in May 2015.
It’s worth looking at the competition. The show was aired in a block that was struggling to find its identity. Sitcoms like About a Boy and Marry Me were also fighting for airtime. The landscape was shifting. Streaming was beginning to eat the lunch of traditional networks, and "average" wasn't good enough anymore. To survive in 2015, a show had to be a breakout hit or a critical darling. One Big Happy was neither.
Missteps in Character and Tone
If we're being honest, the character of Prudence was a major sticking point for many. Kelly Brook is a massive star in the UK, often known for her modeling and media personality work. In the show, Prudence was written as a hyper-sexualized, somewhat ditzy foil to Lizzy’s uptight, organized personality.
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This created a weird friction. The show was trying to celebrate a queer woman's journey to motherhood, but it often felt like it was objectifying its female lead’s counterpart for the sake of "broad appeal." It was a tonal mess. You’d have a heartfelt scene about the fears of parenting followed immediately by a joke about Prudence being naked in the kitchen.
Diversity in media is a complex thing. Having a lesbian lead is great, but if the world around her feels like a caricature, the representation loses its teeth. Lizzy deserved a show that felt as grounded as she was, but she was stuck in a cartoon.
The Legacy of Liz Feldman
The failure of One Big Happy is actually a fascinating case study in "failing upward." Or, perhaps more accurately, it shows that one creative misfire doesn't define a career.
Liz Feldman took the lessons from this show and eventually moved toward single-camera dark comedies. When you look at Dead to Me, you see a creator who finally found her voice—raw, cynical, deeply emotional, and genuinely funny. The constraints of the NBC multi-cam format clearly didn't suit her.
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Sometimes a show fails because the creator is still finding the right vessel for their stories. One Big Happy was a 22-minute box that Feldman was trying to squeeze a 30-minute soul into.
Is It Worth a Rewatch?
You can still find clips of the show online, though it isn't a staple on the major streaming platforms like Friends or Seinfeld. Watching it now is like looking at a time capsule. It represents a specific moment in TV history where networks were desperate to look "modern" but were terrified to let go of the laugh track and the three-camera setup.
If you’re a fan of Elisha Cuthbert, it’s worth a look just to see her attempt to carry the material. She really does try. She’s charming, she’s athletic in her comedy, and she makes the most of some pretty thin dialogue. Nick Zano also shows flashes of the lead-man energy he would later bring to Legends of Tomorrow.
But overall? The show remains a footnote. It’s a reminder that a big name in the credits isn't a substitute for a cohesive vision.
Actionable Takeaways for TV Fans and Creators
If you are looking back at shows like One Big Happy to understand why some sitcoms "make it" while others vanish, consider these factors:
- Format matters: The multi-cam sitcom is the hardest format to get right. If the jokes aren't "A+" level, the laugh track feels like a lie.
- Chemistry can't be forced: While Zano and Cuthbert were friends in real life, the forced "throuple" dynamic with the Prudence character felt engineered rather than organic.
- The "Ellen Effect" has limits: Celebrity backing provides a great launchpad, but the content has to sustain the flight. Don't assume a producer's brand will cover for a weak pilot.
- Watch Liz Feldman's later work: To see how a writer evolves, compare the pilot of this show to the pilot of Dead to Me. The difference in confidence and tone is staggering.
To truly understand the era of the "failed 2010s sitcom," you have to look at the shows that tried to bridge the gap between old-school broadcasting and the new world of diverse storytelling. One Big Happy tried to build that bridge, but it just didn't have a strong enough foundation to hold the weight of its own ambitions. It’s a piece of TV history that shows us exactly where the industry was—and how far it had to go.