Netflix ‘The Manny’ Season 3 Review - Still Babysitting the Plot, Still Dropping the Baby

I went into Season 3 of The Manny knowing exactly two things: one, I was going to finish it no matter how annoyed I got, and two, the show was going to test my patience like a toddler with a drum set. And somehow, despite everything I am about to say, I kind of liked it. Not love it. Not hate it. I liked it in the same way you like a friend who is funny, emotionally unavailable, and keeps making the same mistakes while promising they’ve “really changed this time.”

Season 3 picks up right where the show is most comfortable: domestic chaos framed as comedy, emotional conversations disguised as jokes, and characters who talk about growth while actively running away from it. Gabriel is still the emotional center, still the calmest adult in most rooms, and still the only person who seems to understand that children are, in fact, humans with feelings and not just chaos generators. His role this season shifts slightly from manny to full-blown emotional support system for literally everyone. At one point, I wanted to file a complaint on his behalf. At another, I wanted to ask him to charge hourly.

The biggest positive of this season is that it knows its tone. It remains light, fast, and friendly even when dealing with heavier stuff like burnout, loneliness, parenting guilt, and romantic confusion. The writing still has a good ear for banter, and when jokes land, they really land. Some of the dialogue feels casually sharp in a way that makes it sound effortless, which is harder to pull off than it looks. There are scenes where characters interrupt each other, talk over one another, or say the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time, and those moments feel alive. The show is at its best when it lets conversations breathe instead of rushing to the next plot beat.

That said, Season 3 is also where the show starts acting like it’s allergic to consequences. Emotional arcs are introduced with confidence and resolved with the speed of someone closing a browser tab they didn’t mean to open. Characters have big realizations that seem important in episode three and are functionally ignored by episode five. I kept waiting for follow-through, and the show kept politely pretending it had never met me.

Jimena’s storyline is the clearest example of this. The season wants to explore her independence, her work struggles, and her complicated feelings about relying on someone else, especially Gabriel. On paper, that’s solid material. In execution, it sometimes feels like the show can’t decide whether it wants her to grow or just stay relatable by being perpetually stuck. She oscillates between self-aware and self-sabotaging so quickly that I got emotional whiplash. I laughed, yes, but I also found myself muttering, “Didn’t we already talk about this last season?”

The kids remain both a strength and a problem. They are funny, well-cast, and surprisingly good at delivering emotional beats without sounding like tiny therapists. Some of the best scenes this season involve them calling out the adults in ways that are uncomfortable and accurate. However, the show leans too hard on their cuteness as a narrative shortcut. When a conflict gets messy, a kid delivers a heartfelt line, everyone pauses, learns a lesson, and moves on. It works once. It does not work seven times.

From a technical standpoint, Season 3 looks better than before. The cinematography is cleaner, the lighting warmer, and the framing more confident. There’s a noticeable effort to make the house feel like a real, lived-in space rather than a sitcom set. Direction-wise, the show handles physical comedy well, especially in group scenes where timing matters. There are moments of visual humor that don’t rely on dialogue, which I appreciated. It shows growth behind the camera, even when the script is playing it safe.

Now for the part where I lovingly roast it. This season has commitment issues. It flirts with depth, makes eye contact with complexity, and then immediately says it’s “not looking for anything serious.” Romantic subplots appear, disappear, and reappear like they’re subject to a random shuffle. Some characters exist purely to stir things up and vanish the moment they’ve done their job. I don’t need every storyline to be life-changing, but I do need it to remember it exists.

The pacing is another mixed bag. The episodes are breezy, which makes them easy to binge, but that breeziness sometimes undercuts emotional weight. Big moments don’t always get the space they deserve, while smaller jokes occasionally overstay their welcome. There were scenes where I wanted the show to slow down and let something hurt a little. Instead, it cracked a joke and moved on, like it was scared of sitting with discomfort.

Performance-wise, the cast remains charming across the board. Gabriel’s actor continues to carry the show with understated ease. He plays empathy without turning it into a performance, which is rare. Jimena’s actor brings energy and humor even when the writing gives her a loop instead of an arc. Supporting characters shine in short bursts, though some are underused to the point of being decorative.

By the end of Season 3, I felt entertained, mildly frustrated, and weirdly fond of the experience. The Manny still knows how to be funny, warm, and emotionally observant in small moments. It also still struggles with committing to its own ideas and trusting its audience to handle unresolved tension. I laughed out loud, rolled my eyes, and immediately thought about what Season 4 could fix. That’s nothing.

Season 3 is like a babysitter who keeps the kids alive, tells great stories, forgets bedtime, and somehow still gets invited back. I complained the whole time, and I will absolutely watch the next season.

Final Score- [5/10]
Reviewed by - Anjali Sharma
Follow @AnjaliS54769166 on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times