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A lot has been made—at least across the pond—about the amount of dicks on-screen in The White Lotus. Which is a bit odd considering that Mike White’s satire averages, what, two shots of them per season? That hardly seems like a show that, to quote that Guardian headline, is “so obsessed with graphic penis footage.” The new FX dramedy Dying For se*, on the other hand, does, indeed, show a whole lot of dicks, both on the phone and laptop screens of Molly (a charming and vulnerable Michelle Williams, who pulls off a really tricky tonal balancing act here) and in front of the protagonist herself. (“It’s like a sunflower bending toward the sun itself,” marvels Jenny Slate’s Nikki, Molly’s best friend, of a pic of a full erection in one of the show’s many colorful descriptions of the organ. Much later in the miniseries, a large member detaches from a dude’s naked body and starts flying around the room in a moment of surrealistic whimsy.)  

During couples therapy with her husband, a journalist played by Jay Duplass—the writing and the actor are equally great at painting Steve as a responsible, caring, and nevertheless irksome nice guy—she gets a call from her doctor and learns that she has inoperable breast cancer. In another session, this one with her new therapist at the hospital, Sonya (Esco Jouléy, from the second season of Nick Hornby and Stephen Frears’ chatty TV exercise State Of The Union), Molly shifts from anger to sadness as she confesses, “Look, I’m too young, and it sucks, okay? I haven’t done anything in my life. I actually don’t know what I like or what I want. I’ve never…I’ve never even had an orgasm with another person, and now I’m gonna die.” 

If this all sounds heavy, dark, and dismal, know that the show, save for some of the last installment for obvious reasons, really isn’t any of those things. Dying For se* is, at its heart, a co*edy—and a funny, energetic, and buoyant one at that. After the lightbulb moment that Molly has with Sonya, she decides to live for the day, so she leaves stable Steve, crashes with messy Nikki, and embarks on as many se*ual adventures as she can while she still has time. Over the course of the show’s eight mostly brisk half hours, we see her go from nervously propositioning a sweaty gym rat in an elevator (only to apologetically back out)  and exploring her nifty $200 vibrator to engaging in piss play with a “human pet,” going to a se* party, and dominating and kicking her slob of a neighbor (Rob Delaney) in the dick as a “top.” (The searching-for-an-orgasm premise and se*-positive spirit is reminiscent of John Cameron Mitchell’s wonderful 2006 film/love letter to Brooklyn Shortbus‚ if you’re looking for an uplifting digestif after your watch.) 

Dying For se* is the latest in a seemingly never-ending line of miniseries adapted from podcasts—the program of the same name, in which Molly Kochan described her se*ual experiences with Nikki Boyer, was dramatized here by New Girl‘s Elizabeth Meriwether and playwright Kim Rosenstock—and how refreshing it is to watch one that has nothing to do with either true crime or swindlers. (That said, there is a funny bit when Molly is blackmailed over recorded footage of her pleasuring herself using a jerk-off cam site.)  

While the show tosses Molly in a barrage of fish-out-of-water, funny-ha-ha scenarios—like a guy Molly met at a bar ejaculating after she barely touches him in the back of a cab, which they’re later understandably kicked out of—it also peppers in and eventually highlights some real trauma: There’s Molly’s eventual death and the hell that co*es with chemo and a body that’s falling apart, as well as a thread about how she was molested at seven by the boyfriend of her mother (Sissy Spacek). What’s surprising is how well Dying For se* is able to walk that tightrope, keeping up the co*edy even in the most devastating situations and reminding you of the inevitable sadness of this story after so many giggly moments of joy. 

Throw in a stacked cast—Girls5eva‘s Paula Pell arrives late in the game as a sunny breaker of bad news, the always ace David Rasche plays a buttoned-up doctor because of course he does, and Master Of None‘s Kelvin Yu nicely tackles Nikki’s positive and understanding live-in boyfriend—and some choice episode-ending needle drops by the likes of Billy Childish, Kathy Heideman, and Big Thief, and you’re left with a project with a lot of great ingredients and seeming contradictions: It’s a show about death that’s quite enjoyable and bingeable, a miniseries with rom-co* vibes that doesn’t stress a love interest—Molly’s platonic bond with Nikki, a character that affords Slate a larger emotional range than she typically gets, feels far more consequential than her se*ual one with Delaney’s next-door neighbor—and a co*edy that will probably make you cry and reach out to the ones who matter. Yet it somehow works.  

Dying For se* premieres April 4 on Hulu