When your life falls apart, detoxing your soul isn’t as easy as juicing it.
Wellmania (2023) is a whip-smart, emotional rollercoaster based on Brigid Delaney’s book Wellmania: Misadventures in the Search for Wellness. The Netflix series follows Liv Healy (played brilliantly by Celeste Barber), a food writer and hard-partying bon vivant who returns to Australia — only to discover she can’t get back to New York unless she passes a health test.
Cue a desperate plunge into the bizarre, obsessive, and often hypocritical world of modern wellness.
What begins as a logistical obstacle soon becomes a full-body (and full-soul) reboot. Liv hurls herself into a series of extreme health fads: colonics, breathwork, juice cleanses, chakra realignment, raw food, and public vulnerability — all while trying to reconnect with her estranged family, face past trauma, and stay relevant in a world that seems to be moving on without her.
Wellmania brilliantly balances satire and sincerity. It skewers the billion-dollar wellness industry — how healing is marketed, monetized, and often more performative than personal — yet it never loses sight of Liv’s very real emotional journey. Beneath the sarcasm and spa-day disasters is a woman trying to find meaning in a life that no longer fits.
Celeste Barber brings her trademark comedic timing, but also reveals surprising dramatic depth. Liv is messy, often selfish, frequently hilarious — but her evolution feels authentic. The show doesn’t pretend there’s a quick fix. Healing, it argues, is chaotic, inconsistent, and far from Instagrammable.
Visually, the series is punchy and polished, full of fast cuts, quirky wellness aesthetics, and vibrant Sydney backdrops. It’s Eat Pray Love by way of Fleabag, with just a touch of Black Mirror for how absurd wellness culture can be when taken too far.
Ultimately, Wellmania asks: What does it mean to be well? And who decides what healing looks like?