By Sarah Osman

A sharp, locally grounded dramedy that captures the contradictions of suburban Southern California — and the steep cost of survival for young women.

Michelle Pfeiffer and Elle Fanning in Margo’s Got Money Troubles. Photo: Apple TV

Fullerton, my hometown, is roughly 15 minutes away from Anaheim, the site of Disneyland. Fullerton sits in Orange County, Los Angeles’s more conservative, suburban neighbor. Police brutality, racial segregation, and corrupt politics are among many of city’s problems. It could be characterized as your typical dystopian American urban center: cozy on the outside, problematic, particularly for the have-nots, on the inside.

I left Fullerton when I was 17 for university. My parents divorced and left shortly after. My sister moved to L.A. the second she could. My childhood friends have all left Fullerton for brighter pastures. It’s a town I don’t think about that often, except for when it, unfortunately, pops up in the news.

So imagine my amazement when I viewed Apple TV’s newest comedy, Margo’s Got Money Troubles, and quickly discovered that it’s set in Fullerton. I’m not sure if the novel the program is based on is also set in Fullerton. But, boy, does this series nail my hometown! The many weird specifics include references to Fullerton College, Angelo & Vinci’s, a beloved Italian restaurant that went out of business a few years ago, and the general ‘fuck you’ attitude that prevailed during my time in Fullerton. I was absolutely floored to see this version of the OC.

That said, you don’t have to have ever heard of Fullerton to find a lot to love in Margo’s Got Money Troubles. The series stars Elle Fanning as Margo, a junior college student who is studying creative writing. She has an affair with her married professor and ends up pregnant. She’s fired from her job because she can’t afford the necessary childcare. Desperate, Margo turns to posting explicit material on OnlyFans (“remote prostitution” or webcam‑style porn) as a way to support her child.

Meanwhile, Margo’s parents only add to her problems. Her former wild-child mother, Shyanne (Michelle Pfeiffer), is now engaged to a sweet minister (Greg Kinnear). But she still holds a torch for Margo’s father, Jinx (Nick Offerman), a former wrestler who, after completing another stint in rehab, shows up at Margo’s door.

Shyanne may be the most Fullertonian character in the series. Pfeiffer is incredible as Margo’s bitter, perpetually angry mother, a woman who clings to superficiality. She resents her daughter and grandchild, relies on her looks to get by (she values physical appearances above all else), often lashing out in rage at her former lover, Jinx, and their daughter. Shyanne finds herself becoming a player in a hypocritical church that’s not at all her — but she still desperately clings to its hollowness. Shyanne’s anger is understandable, even sympathetic; after all, she was left to raise Margo as a single mother. This is one of the most complex characters I’ve seen in a series dramedy, a successful combination of fine writing and Pfeiffer’s striking performance. Shyanne resembles so many of the mothers who attended PTA meetings during my childhood.

Fanning brings an infectious optimism to Margo. No matter what life throws at her, she keeps on going, doing what she has to do to raise her son. Margo’s relationship with roommate and wrestling fan, Susie (a delightful Thaddea Graham) highlights just how important one true friend can be in a hostile world. Offerman gives a rather subdued performance as Jinx, perhaps because he places his part, that of a recovering addict, into dramatic rather than comedic territory.

Margo’s Got Money Troubles never judges Margo or her career, a welcome change from other contemporary dramas that have focused on sex workers. What it does do, to its credit, is highlight just how severely American society condemns young women and sex workers. I always felt that Fullerton was a very censorious city. Margo’s friends abandon her the second she really needs them. That sad turn of events felt very accurate to me, as did her narcissistic mother doing what she could to skirt her adult responsibilities. It is remarkable to see a series that captures domestic dissolution so well while also reflecting on larger issues — including political and social breakdown — that are currently bedeviling us.

Sarah Mina Osman is based in Los Angeles. In addition to The Arts Fuse, her writing can be found in The Huffington Post, Success Magazine, Matador Network, HelloGiggles, Business Insider, and WatchMojo. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of North Carolina Wilmington and is working on her first novel. She has a deep appreciation for sloths and tacos. You can keep up with her on Instagram @SarahMinaOsman and at Bluesky @sarahminaosman.bsky.social.