Much of “Dollface” and its critique of contemporary womanhood is barely skin-deep, but it has such a good skin care routine it’s hard to mind. Beyond its festive magical realism, it has almost nothing to say — it’s a “rosé all day” shirt come to life, a show where a desire to go to SantaCon is treated as normal and possibly good. The characters could — should — look at one another and ask, “Why are we friends?”; I should ask the show the same thing. In both cases the answer is, I don’t know … but we are.

Kat Dennings (“2 Broke Girls”) stars as Jules, who gets dumped within the first five minutes of the pilot and then has to board a bus of weepy women, driven by a humanoid cat who tells her she has neglected her female friendships and needs to rediscover them. It’s the first fantasy the show engages in, and it’s both appealingly imaginative and vaguely contemptuous. Other reality-bending moments include a FOMO game show called “Should She Go Out?,” a dealership for “new and pre-owned dudes,” a chasm opening under a brunch table and a full-on “Wizard of Oz” episode.

These surreal asides are fun and cheeky, and they sometimes skewer the dumb social constraints of being a woman. But they are also frustratingly imprecise, and when the show goes too long without one, the emotional blankness of Jules’s world becomes too apparent. I devoured the first six episodes in a gleeful blitz, though the subsequent four slowed considerably. (The entire first season arrived Friday on Hulu.) It’s a common affliction in the streaming age that becomes much more noticeable in shows that lack propulsive narratives, like “Dollface.”

Jules’s boss is dippy, her ex-boyfriend is worthless, her pets are named after “Entourage” characters. Psst, Jules: Maybe you should burn this all down and start fresh.