Netflix dramedy easy to dismiss, but it stands out

We are warned not to judge a book by its cover.

The same rule should apply to television, seeing as how I almost misjudged the new Netflix series “Russian Doll,” which is extraordinary and thoughtfully existential.

“Russian Doll” — released Feb. 1 — seems, in its first episode, too clever by half and too hip by a mile. It’s a Lower Manhattan-set dramedy starring Natasha Lyonne (“Orange Is the New Black”) as Nadia, a deeply cynical coder who experiences her own death repeatedly on the night of her bohemian, drugged-up birthday party.

As such, the series presents itself as a loopy misadventure in that uncharted territory between life and death; its manic, middle-of-the-night momentum recalls the 1985 Martin Scorsese film “After Hours,” and its surrogate deepmeaning philosophy easily compares to the beloved “Groundhog Day” (1993).

With so many shows about the mysteries of the afterlife and other frustrating states of limbo (treated with witty rapport in NBC’S “The Good Place” and with creepy redundancy in Amazon’s “Forever”), “Russian Doll” seemingly offered more of the calculated ennui of the moment.

But the more I watched — all eight episodes can be binged in a fast four hours — the more I was wrong. “Russian Doll” draws viewers in with questions large and small about death, depression and the redemptive power of friendship.

Each time Nadia dies (hit by a car, breaking her neck on a fall down the stairs, stumbling into an open cellar door on the sidewalk, a gas explosion), she is returned to her birthday party at her friend’s apartment, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, then making her way through a crowd of revelers.

She gets a fresh start each time, even as various indicators (rotting fruit, dying flowers, vanishing friends) suggest that this in-between state is a dangerous place to linger.

The first time Nadia dies, the world seems none the lesser for it; even she describes herself as the ill-mannered combination of Andrew Dice Clay and the animated redheaded heroine from “Brave.”

Waking up from her demise, she sets about like an angry detective, demanding answers:

Is it about ghosts? Is it about abandoned Yeshiva schools? Is it about how she treated her last boyfriend? Is it about her dead mother, perish the thought? Or is her predicament like the game code she writes at work?

Those who’ve already watched and praised the series generally agree that a plot swerve in the third episode becomes the most compelling development in “Russian Doll,” and it deserves to not be spoiled. The twist turns the series into something more fascinating than a “Groundhog Day” premise of endless resets and raises the viewer’s interest in Nadia’s eventual outcome.

The series concludes in a vaguely upbeat manner that doesn’t quite track with the show’s earlier and more delightful mean streak. Once “Russian Doll” catches on and everyone starts raving about it, others will want to overlay religious and philosophical analysis on top of that hope.

I’d like to think Nadia would tell them to “shaddup” already and just enjoy it.