From the moment they meet, it’s clear that Joanne (Kristen Bell) and Noah (Seth Brody) are made for each other. Despite their differences.

She’s an agnostic podcaster who hosts a series about sex and the trials of modern relationships with her sister, Morgan (Justine Lupe). Breezily describing themselves as “slutty singles”, each has a history of disappointing hook-ups.

He’s a rabbi at a liberal Los Angeles synagogue who’s just ended a long-standing relationship with a nice Jewish girl regarded by his family and friends as a perfect match. By his own admission, he can “play up the Torah bad-boy vibe” when required: he’ll smoke dope and swear, he flirts and he’s quick with a snappy comeback line. Known among the teens at his temple as the “hot rabbi”, he’s a man of God, but not quite the forbidden fruit of Fleabag’s “hot priest”.

The major roadblock for this potential couple, the kind of obstacle necessary for any romantic comedy once the initial, irresistible flame has been ignited, is that Joanne’s not Jewish. Or, to use the slang common in his community, she’s a shiksa.

Yet, as their meet-cute establishes, Joanne and Noah really get each other. They banter on the same wavelength and spark from the get-go. He’s charmed by her vivacity and forthright nature, but also senses her vulnerability. “You scare me,” he admits. “You’re an unfiltered, complicated, vulnerable, beautiful woman.” And, departing from her usual tendency to make bad choices with men, she’s attracted by his intelligence, sensitivity and kindness.

According to series creator, writer and executive producer Erin Foster, Noah needed to be “charming and soulful and deep, but also have a really sharp sense of humour, a sense of sarcasm, and the ability to give Joanne shit. He had to be likable and lovable, but also hot and also the kind of guy that your mom would love.” She says that Brody, who as Seth Cohen, the teenage son of a mixed marriage on The O.C. (2003-2006, Stan, 9Now), gave the world the concept of “Chrismukkah”, was perfect.

Nobody Wants This propels viewers into classic romcom territory, a rarefied and often-elusive space, especially on TV. Crafting a winner in this beloved yet notoriously difficult-to-negotiate genre is tricky. Writers, producers, directors and actors need to nail a range of critical elements and successfully combining them isn’t easy or common, though it can happen (see below). It requires an almost-magical mix of tone, timing, setting, humour, casting and chemistry. And one of the frequent disappointments for devotees of the genre is how many turn out to be clunky wannabees.

Happily, this 10-part series understands the challenges and gets the necessary elements right. Having convincingly introduced the potential couple, it tracks a path strewn with obstacles towards a possible happily-ever-after ending. Romcom hurdles come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Sometimes a competing love interest creates an uncomfortable and threatening romantic triangle. Sometimes the lovers face logistical challenges: living in different cities or countries. Sometimes the problem is a culture clash, or class differences. Sometimes one of the participants gets cold feet about commitment. There can be damaging gossip, misunderstandings and miscommunications.