Forget the gentle fade-out. Forget the polite nod to nostalgia. Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin have returned in Grace and Frankie: New Beginnings, and this isn’t a cozy reunion tour—it’s a full-throttle declaration that age doesn’t dim fire; it sharpens it. Streaming now on Netflix after its surprise debut in early 2026, this revival series picks up where the original left off but refuses to play by the same rules. From the opening scene, the chemistry between Fonda’s Grace Hanson and Tomlin’s Frankie Bergstein explodes off the screen—sharper, bolder, and unafraid to confront the messy truths of aging, reinvention, grief, joy, and rage that television often tiptoes around once women hit a certain milestone.

The original Grace and Frankie ran for seven groundbreaking seasons from 2015 to 2022, becoming Netflix’s longest-running original comedy and a cultural touchstone for its fearless portrayal of older women navigating love, sex, business, family, and friendship. When the series wrapped with Grace and Frankie walking arm-in-arm into an uncertain future, fans mourned the end but celebrated the duo’s enduring bond. Yet the story never truly felt finished. Three years later, New Beginnings arrives as the bold continuation fans secretly hoped for—a limited revival that doesn’t chase sentimentality but charges forward with the same rebellious spirit that defined the original.

The premise builds naturally from the finale. Grace and Frankie, now in their eighties, face new chapters that test their resilience and redefine their friendship. A surprise family twist—perhaps a business setback, health scare, or unexpected return of old flames—forces the pair back into partnership, reigniting the spark that always powered their unlikely alliance. Grace, the former straight-laced executive with a martini in hand, grapples with softening her edges while embracing vulnerability. Frankie, the free-spirited artist, confronts the realities of slowing down without losing her wild heart. Their husbands, Robert (Martin Sheen) and Sol (Sam Waterston), remain part of the orbit—older, wiser, and still hilariously mismatched—but the spotlight stays firmly on the women.

What makes New Beginnings electric is how it refuses to soften the edges. The humor lands harder, often cutting through denial with brutal honesty. One minute, you’re laughing at Frankie’s outrageous scheme or Grace’s deadpan takedown; the next, a quiet line about loneliness, regret, or the fear of irrelevance hits like a gut punch. The series doesn’t dilute the comedy to make room for emotion—it weaves them together so seamlessly that the shifts feel organic and devastating. Topics rarely explored with such depth on screen—menopause revisited in later life, the indignities of aging bodies, the rage of being overlooked, the joy of reclaimed independence—are tackled head-on, without apology or sentiment.

Fonda and Tomlin deliver career-highlight performances. Fonda’s Grace is more layered than ever: still impeccably dressed, still quick with a quip, but now carrying the weight of years with a vulnerability she once masked. Tomlin’s Frankie remains the chaotic heart—eccentric, loving, infuriating—but her humor now carries an undercurrent of defiance against time itself. Their timing is impeccable; every glance, every interruption, every shared silence crackles with history and love. The supporting cast returns with warmth: Sheen and Waterston bring tender familiarity, while June Diane Raphael and Brooklyn Decker as daughters Brianna and Mallory add generational friction and affection that grounds the story in real family dynamics.

The writing, led by original creators Marta Kauffman and Howard J. Morris with fresh voices, strikes a perfect balance—reverent to the source material yet unafraid to evolve. Episodes explore reinvention through business ventures gone awry, romantic entanglements that surprise everyone (including the characters), and confrontations with mortality that feel earned rather than maudlin. The tone shifts effortlessly from outrageous farce to poignant reflection, proving that comedy and drama aren’t opposites—they’re intertwined when the writing is this sharp.

Visually, the series retains the sunny, beachside aesthetic of the original—vibrant California light, colorful homes, ocean views—but the cinematography has matured, using wider shots to emphasize isolation amid beauty and close-ups to capture every flicker of emotion. The soundtrack mixes nostalgic favorites with new tracks that underscore the characters’ defiant energy.

Early reactions have been rapturous. Fans call it “the comeback we needed,” praising how it refuses to patronize its audience or its stars. “This isn’t a revival that plays it safe,” one viewer noted. “It’s two legends proving they never lost their fire—and they’re nowhere near finished shaking things up.” The series dares television to keep pace with women who refuse to fade quietly, tackling subjects with a boldness that feels revolutionary in an industry often quick to sideline older voices.

Grace and Frankie: New Beginnings is loud, sharp, tender, furious, and unapologetically alive. It laughs at life’s absurdities, rages at its injustices, and celebrates the messy beauty of continuing to grow—no matter the years. Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin don’t just return; they remind us why their partnership became iconic in the first place. They came back not to be polite, but to burn brighter than ever. And television—and viewers—are all the better for it.