Poor New York football fans. Recent years have been tough and there is plenty of
blame to go around. At least in this show, Jets fans can focus their anger on
one man. That would be All-Pro running back Reggie Dinkins, who was banned for
gambling right before the Super Bowl, which the Jets went on to lose—badly.
Dickins still wants the color commentary gigs and his rightful place in the
Hall of Fame, so he hired semi-disgraced documentarian Arthur Tobin to rehabilitate
his image. It might just work, but not in the way he hopes, because the embarrassing
moments Tobin captures, of both Dinkins and himself, could go along way towards
humanizing them in creators Robert Carlock & Sam Means’ The Fall and
Rise of Reggie Dinkins, which starts its regular run tomorrow on NBC.
This is
not an American remake of The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, despite the
weirdly similar titles. This Reggie is essentially the Pete Rose of football.
He says he only bet on himself, but his media apology tour was a disaster.
Initially, his ex-wife manager Monica Reese-Dinkins was against hiring Tobin, but
she starts to warm to the filmmaker and his methods in the second episode, “Nittany
Means Big.” The title refers to a disastrous prank Reese-Dinkins covered up for
her then fiancé during their college years. It is an example of the show’s
football references, which should be sufficiently specific for fans, but not
too deep in the weeds for more casual viewers.
The
pilot, which previously premiered after an NFL playoff game is very much a
getting-to-know-you episode, introducing Dinkins, his ex, their son Carmelo,
and his influencer fiancée, Brina, as well as his wacky “neighbor,” Rusty Boyd,
Dinkins’ best friend (the former back-up kicker), who lives in his basement. We
also learn about Tobin’s disgrace, when a video of his meltdown trying to helm
a Marvel movie starts going viral again.
Frankly,
the next three episodes are somewhat sharper and funnier than the
premise-setting pilot. The title of episode three, “Put it on Your Cabbage,” refers
to an amusing subplot, wherein Dinkins loses his final endorsement. It also allows
co-leads Tracy Morgan and Daniel Radcliffe to build some chemistry as their
characters both endure public humiliation, at a New Jersey restaurant and a
documentary film festival. (Those scenes were filmed on location outside the Elinor
Bunin Monroe Film Center.)
“Save the
Cat,” written by Grace Edwards, features a funny guest appearance by Corbin
Bernsen as Dinkins’ bitter former coach Duck Donovan, who will hopefully become
a recurring character. Bobby Moynihan also mines plenty of humor from his schlubby
Boyd tutoring the reluctant Reese-Dinkins on dating app strategy.
Despite her recent scandal, Courtenay Potter is the kind of cheer coach Ted Lasso
could appreciate, because she really cares about her team. Unfortunately, to
break the record for cheer competition victories, Potter must build a new team
from scratch, but fortunately, she always maintains a can-do attitude in co-creator-showrunners
Jeff & Liz Astrof’s Stumble, which premieres tomorrow night on NBC.
Potter
had it all at Sammy Davis Sr. Junior College, until she was caught on camera
celebrating a little too much with her team. Her big, dopey loving husband
Boone remains the football coach at SDSJC, but the best coaching position she can
find is with ambiguously pronounceable Heådltston Junior College, where she
also must half-heartedly teach typing.
Somehow,
Potter recruits a team of misfits, including a narcoleptic, a delinquent with
natural parkour skills, a former team-member who never graduated when Potter
coached him sixteen years ago, and Krystal, the star cheerleader for Sammy
Davis Sr., who transfers because she thinks the documentary will be all about her.
Yes, this
is yet another mockumentary sitcom, but it probably shouldn’t be, because the
things that really work do not lend themselves to the format. Based on the
first two episodes provided for review, Stumble excels when it depicts
the warmth and humor of the Potters’ marriage and her tough but compassionate approach
with her team.
Frankly,
this show would work better if it didn’t feel a need to constantly go for big
yucks. Arguably, it ought to go more for gentler laughs, sort of like the vibe
of the old Family Affair show. For now, Kristin Chenoweth lays on the
shtick so thickly as Tammy Istiny, Potter’s former assistant coach turned catty
rival, viewers could get toxic shock from the cringe. Several of the new cheer team
members could stand for a little toning down as well.
This hospital should certainly count as a workplace comedy setting, because head nurse
Alex Mazurkian definitely works as hard as anyone. Yet, the toughest part of
her job is keeping her sanity. That’s a universal truth we can all relate to.
It also helps that the comedy is still actually funny in the second season of
co-creators Eric Ledgin & Justin Spitzer’s St. Denis Medical, which
premieres tonight with back-to-back episodes on NBC.
Mazurkian
finally got to enjoy a well-deserved break, so now she wants to keep those
vacation vibes going in “Aloha, Everyone.” Curmudgeonly Dr. Ron Leonard knows
that will never last, but good luck to her. That will be especially true when the
Steve Carell-esque hospital administrator Dr. Joyce Henderson starts drafting
the nursing staff to finish decorating their new birthing center for a major
donor.
Frankly,
this is a relatively laidback episode compared to some of the highlights from
season one, but it still has far more bite than the toothless The Paper.
There is no question St. Denis Medical is the true successor to The
Office. Regardless, it serves as a nice showcase for recurring cast-member David
Theune as Keith Finger, the deadpan sad sack orderly. It also offers Kahyun Kim
an opportunity to act a little nutty as the ordinarily too-cool-for-you Nurse
Serena Jung.
Regardless,
“Mama Bear Activated” is a prime example of the show’s edgy wit, especially
when Dr. Henderson calls a meeting to discuss a recent wave of physical attacks
on staff members. On a serious note, medical professionals really are five times
more likely to be victims of violent assaults. That is a legit problem, but
Henderson is not solving it with her self-defense seminar—in lieu of greater
spending on security systems, of course. Seriously, this compares favorably
with some of Carrel’s best Office scenes. Arguably, there is no funnier depiction
of an obnoxious boss currently on television than Wendi McClendon-Covey’s portrayal
of Henderson. That is meant as the highest praise. Yet, what really makes her
funny is her after-the-fact realizations of her infractions against current
heightened (wokish) sensitivities.
If you think Frederick Wiseman’s documentaries are long, start watching all the
footage shot by the filmmakers supposedly documenting Dunder Mifflin through
all 201 episodes of The Office. They are back in the field shooting a
new project, but it probably will not last as long. Arguably, creators Greg
Daniels and Michal Koman were victims of their own success, because the
popularity of The Office spawned a parade of mockumentary imitators. Their
latest feels like more of the same, but there are enough connecting elements to
call Daniels & Koman’s The Paper a spin-off when it launches today
on Peacock.
Alas,
Dunder Mifflin went out of business, but a giant paper conglomerate acquired
the remnants, including accountant Oscar Martinez, whom they moved to their
Toledo office (seriously, what a downer of a spinoff premise). There he shares open
bullpen space with the company’s least important asset: the Toledo Truth-Teller.
It was once a respected regional newspaper that was even the subject of a 1960s
D.A. Pennebaker-esque documentary. Sadly, it has declined into a printed
throwaway largely consisting of wire service reports and an online clickbait
operation, which is exactly how acting managing editor Esmeralda Grand likes
it.
However,
Ned Sampson intends to shake things up, which he should be able to do, since he
is ostensibly her new boss. He was a crackerjack paper salesman, so he parlayed
his success into the journalism career he always wanted. Unfortunately, he only
has one employee with legitimate journalism experience, Mare Pritti, an Army
veteran and former Stars and Stripes reporter.
The
self-importance of journalists ought to be a big fat target for Daniels, Koman,
and their co-writers (the Truth-Teller name alone should inspire groans
of mockery), but they largely ignore it, in favor of conventional office place
humor. That might make sense, since it was their specialty, but the gleefully mischievous
edge that made The Office consistently the funniest show of its time is
conspicuously missing from the first four episodes. (All ten installments of
season one premiered today, but other critics stopped at four, so it seems fair
to match their endurance.)
Indeed,
series lead Domhnall Gleason delivers plenty of Office-worthy cringe as
Sampson, but there isn’t the same level of caustic wit to counter-balance it.
Instead, Sabrina Impacciatore serves up constant over-the-top shtick as his
main nemesis, Grand, who would defy viewers’ patience and credibility in an Absolutely
Fabulous rip-off.
It is
nice that Chelsea Frei portrays Pritti as a sympathetic veteran, who thus far
seems to be the most functional staff member at the Truth-Teller. However,
her persona has yet to develop beyond a skeptical potential love interest.
Frankly, the rest of the staff is even blander, except Martinez, still played
by Oscar Nunez, who came prefabricated and ready-for-use from the mother
series.
Max is
a two-time Olympic tennis gold medalist—one-time came with his co-host and
former doubles partner Anthony. Presumably, neither won any Grand Slams, since everyone
only talks about the Olympics. At least they look like athletes, as they
should, since they are played by former Denver Broncos Superbowl champs Vernon Davis
and Omar Bolden. Davis was way better as the sinister villain in Ritual Killer than that oddball VOD thriller deserved. He also intuitively knows
when to ham it up for the sake of the material in the first two episodes provided
for review.
Indeed,
the writing needs a lot of punching up, because Lyons gives viewers a lot of
shtick, like Ronan the sound guy, who blows a large alphorn (seen in the Ricola
commercial) for reasons that are never quite clear. Frankly, Match Point would
be funnier if it focused more on sports, particularly tennis. All the jokes involving
neurotic celebrities and vapid influencers just feel shopworn.
Nobody wants to be in the hospital around Christmastime. Evidently, that
includes the doctors and nurses, because all those sick people are so annoying.
This Christmas Eve, the camera crew documenting the titual Oregon hospital captures
two particularly sensitive cases in “Ho-Ho-Hollo,” the Christmas-themed episode
of St. Denis Medical, which airs tomorrow on NBC.
This
episode will make viewers grateful for pixelation, because of the patient who intended
to propose to his girlfriend by putting the ring in a rather private place, where
it got stuck. Normally, Dr. Bruce is insufferably cocky, but this case
maximizes his capacity for sympathy. Still, his katana sword still seems like
the wrong approach.
In
a way, Dr. Ron can also almost empathize with this week’s other problem patient,
Bob Klein. He was admitted after a nasty fall, but it turns out St. Denis also
cured his leukemia—because he never had it in the first place. However, he
asserts his patient-doctor confidentiality with Dr. Ron and Alex, the supervising
RN, because he so enjoys all the attention from his family.
Feeling somewhat abandoned
by his grown children, Dr. Ron almost sort of gets it, even though he still
finds it horribly slimy. Instead of his real-life namesake, this Robert Klein
is portrayed by the perfectly cast David Paymer, who makes a perfect foil for
series stars David Alan Grier and Allison Tolman.
This is New York, so the idea of recruiting prosecutors out of prison is not
so far-fetched for Alvin Bragg. They say our courts have a revolving door. That
has been especially true for the Night Court franchise. Everyone
remembers Markie Post from the original series, but they went through two prior
public defenders before she took over the role. Losing a prosecutor should be
nothing out of the ordinary for the reboot-continuation series. However,
curmudgeonly public defender Dan Fielding will be a little freaked out by his
new rival. As a possible consolation, he might discover a new son he never knew
he had in “The Judge’s Boyfriend’s Dad, Part 1 & 2,” the two-part season premiere
of showrunner Dan Rubin’s Night Court, airing tomorrow and next Tuesday
on NBC.
A
lot has changed since the first season. In addition to the new prosecutor,
Judge Abby Stone also has a new clerk and a new boyfriend. In most respects,
they are all trade-ups. India de Beaufort got a lot of laughs as Olivia, the
self-absorbed, uber-aggressive ADA. However, her replacement is Wendie Malick,
who played Fielding’s former stalker-tormentor Julianne Walters. Yes, she was
sent to prison in a previous episode. Welcome to New York City.
Nyambi
Nyambi also mines more humor from the clerk’s position than his predecessor.
Plus, recuring Gary Anthony Williams often feels like a throwback to the old school
Night Court (which is a good thing), as Flobert, a former judge who often
subs in the various Night Court positions (which have had several vacancies) and
just generally like to hang out and kvetch. He is going to have plenty of
gossip, because Judge Abby suspects her boyfriend Jake might be Fielding’s
secret illegitimate son, for reasons she explains in the eccentric opening prologue
to “Part 1.”
True
to form, the naïve do-gooding Stone agonizes over how to broach her supposition
with both men. On the other hand, Flobert and Gurgs the bailiff offer plenty of
suggestions for invasive DNA tests, which Stone will eventually go along with,
for her own personal reasons.
Of
course, the best scenes of this two-parter focus on Walters’ cat-and-mouse
sparring with Fielding. She has the edge this series needs, since it has gone
out of its way to tame Fielding. Walters also outmaneuvers Gurgs as well, when they
clash over smoking on the fire-escape, which is solidly relatable workplace
material.
Hyper-sensitivity
will be the death of the sitcom genre, but the new shows like St. Denis Medical and Animal Control are not giving up without a fight.
Frankly, it is still unclear whether Rubin and his fellow writers intend to
join the battle or surrender, but at least their writing for Malick shows some
signs of life.
Some things are easier to appreciate with distant. For instance, medical
dramas are entertaining on television, but miserable in real life. Similarly,
it is easier to appreciate the workplace humor of hospitals, if you are not
confined to one. In fact, there are a lot of laughs to be found in this
mid-sized Oregon hospital, but you really, really would not want to be a
patient in co-creators Eric Ledgin (also showrunner) & Justin Spitzer’s St.
Denis Medical, which premieres Tuesday on NBC.
Think
of St. Denis as if it were Dunder-Mifflin Medical. Our vantage point comes from
the camera recording a documentary about the hospital, which presumably will
become Frederick Wiseman-length, if the show runs for multiple seasons. Alex
the supervising RN is a kind soul, perhaps to a fault. She is so conscientious,
she has trouble tearing herself away from the ER madness. In fact, the opening
episode, “Welcome to St. Denis” entirely focuses on her struggle to leave well
after her shift ends, so she can watch her daughter perform in her high school
musical.
Of
course, Dr. Ron, the admitting ER doctor bets against her. He is not mean, per
se. He is just extremely cynical. He is also quite selfishly set in his ways,
as we can fully see in episode five, “A Peanut and Caramel-Filled Miracle,” in
which he goes to outrageous lengths to enjoy his regular afternoon treat, a NutRageous
candy bar.
What
is stopping him? That would be arrogant trauma surgeon Dr. Bruce, who bought up
all NutRageous bars from the vending machines, gift shop, and surrounding
convenience stores, just to mess with his colleague. You could say Dr. Bruce is
a bit petty and enormously vain. He goes to outrageous lengths to avoid giving
blood in episode seven, “50 CC’s of Kindness.” (Apparently, episode six still
needs more time baking in the oven.) On the other hand, the two rival gang
members from a nearby prison spill plenty of each other’s blood. The fact that
Ledgin and Spitzer consider prison shivving a valid subject for comedy is
definitely a promising sign.
The
best of the six episodes provided to critics would be episode four, “Salamat
You Too,” in which Nurse Alex tries to assert her authority over a “mean girl”
clique of Filipino nurses, but ends with the supervising nurse in some very hot
DEI water. Frankly, this episode is an instant classic, ranking with the best
of The Office. When they come for Seinfeld’s “Puerto Rican Day
Parade,” they will include this one on the same blacklist too, so watch it
while you can (on November 26th).
Allison
Tolman nicely anchors the series as Nurse Alex, making her easy to identify
with. She is funny in a more lowkey way, without competing with her more
outrageous co-stars. If these characters were real-life caregivers, her Nurse
Alex is probably the only one you would want to see at your bedside.
Frankly,
David Alan Grier deserves Emmy consideration for his work as the pompous Dr.
Ron. He is shameless and ruthlessly sarcastic, but Grier’s portrayal will remind
viewers of people they might know from their own workplace, in much the way Dan
Larroquette did on the original Night Court.
The
third episode, “Weird Stuff You Can’t Explain,” is another strong showcase for
Grier’s comedic chops. This time around, Dr. Ron takes a lot of flak for
defiantly calling down a hex on St. Denis, just to prove the ridiculousness of supernatural
beliefs. Of course, once he does, the emergency room seems to be plagued by a
genuine curse. This episode is also a good example of recurring cast-member Dave
Theune’s very funny contributions as the world’s most deadpan and morose
orderly.
Historians are convinced the legend of highwayman Dick Turpin was significantly enhanced
by sensationalistic writers (including Daniel Dafoe). He wasn’t even considered
a Robin Hood-figure until his image was tweaked again for a late-1970s TV
series. Arguably, that makes him fair game for any new revision, reboot, or re-conception
that comes along. A new Turpin should still at least make sense or get laughs.
The first does not apply to this spoof, but, unfortunately, the humor is often
rather iffy in creators Claire Downes, Ian Jarvis, and Stuart Lane’s
six-episode The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin, which
premieres today on Apple TV+.
Turpin
is still the son of a village butcher, but instead of a life of crime, he
aspires to be an artist or a designer. However, when the ruthless leader of the
Essex Gang essentially kills himself through freak misadventure, Turpin gets
the credit and thereby inherits leadership of the gang. The burly Little
John-ish Moose Pleck immediately takes to Turpin, identifying a kindred
metrosexual soul. The frustrated poet Honesty Barebone also immediately accepts
Turpin, because he is an idiot. However, the most competent member of the gang,
Nell Brazier resents Turpin for taking the leadership role she deserves—while
simultaneously hating herself for being attracted to him.
Naturally,
the Essex Gang quickly falls in the official Highwaymen standings, even though
(or maybe because) they have an aspiring pamphlet scribe documenting their misadventures.
Turpin also alienates Jonathan Wilde, the corrupt Thief-Taking General, by
refusing to pay his hefty kickbacks. Instead of feeding them tips, Wilde is now
determined to apprehend the Essex Gang. Left to his own devices, Turpin has a
knack for picking the worst possible targets, like the “Unrobbable Coach,” a
riff on England’s phantom coach lore, in episode two.
Episode
four, “Curse of the Reddlehag,” also has a supernatural theme, in which Turpin
unleashes chaos after he unwittingly releases a witch from her prison coach.
Arguably, this is the funniest episode. Perhaps not coincidentally, Turpin gets
the least screentime in this installment, thanks to the spell that turns him
into a chicken.
Hugh
Bonneville is aptly pompous as Wilde, but Tamsin Greig is even more fabulously
villainous chewing the scenery as Lady Helen Gwinear, the leader of Wilde’s
secret criminal society. Throughout the series, Ellie White probably gets the
most laughs as Brazier, because she is the only one who regularly undercuts
Turpin’s impractical dandy stylings and his complete lack of common sense.
Everyone should be ripping on Turpin, but usually it is just her.
As a proud geek, Mark Critch has a passion for Star Trek and trivia.
He is also interested in two girls who actually talk to him. They all collide
when he and his sort-of-ex Fox compete against his current flirt-more-than-girlfriend
on a TV quiz show in “Reach for the Top,” the next episode of Son of a
Critch, which airs tomorrow on CW.
Critch
and Fox are in a just-friends phase, which is still a real step up from when
she used to bully him. Somehow, he convinced her to be a member of his trivia
team when they represent St. Bridget’s on Reach for the Top, a TV quiz
show for kids. Of course, Critch is a know-it-all, but his pseudo-girlfriend
Cara, who captains the team from their Protestant rivals is better at handling
pressure. She might also have a talent for mind-games.
As
Critch crumbles under the studio lights, he imagines what Kirk would do, in a
fantasy sequence set on the Enterprise bridge, with him in the captain’s conn.
It looks quite true to the original Trek, as Paramount required, when
they granted their permission. Conveniently, the production designer for this
episode, Mark Steel, has worked as the art or production designer on six Star
Trek: Discovery installments.
Frankly,
some fans will be disappointed the fantasy segment wraps up so quickly, because
of Steel’s eye for authenticity. Young Mark Critch also definitely has an
affinity for Shatner-esque histrionics. Captain Benjamin Sisko is a strong
runner-up, but in Star Trek, “Captain” means “Kirk” first and
foremost.
Apparently, real estate is so cheap in Boston even a financially struggling divorced
dad can afford one and a half apartments. What is the deal with the half? He
and his ex-wife still maintain the “Nest” where they were raising their children.
For the sake of stability, the kids stay put and the parents rotate in and out.
This contrived premise becomes even more awkward when she lands a rich new fiancé
in creator-showrunner Mike O’Malley’s new sitcom, Extended Family, which
premieres tonight on NBC.
As
Jim Kearney and Julia Mariano explain to the camera (like they’re pretending to
be characters on Modern Family), after seventeen years of marriage, they
wanted to return to their original friendship, while disrupting their thankless
kids’ lives as little as possible. So, after their “divorce party,” they
launched this unlikely home-sharing scheme.
It
might sound like the set-up for a War of the Roses-like premise, with
the exes fighting over every last clause in their non-habitation agreement.
Obviously, Mariano’s speedy engagement to Trey Schultz adds a further point of
contention. Schultz is the owner of the Boston Celtics, much like co-executive
producer Wyc Grousbeck (a real-life ownership partner). However, the fictional Schultz
attended MIT. Based on the first three episodes provided to the press, he has
no opinion on MIT president Sally Kornbluth’s congressional testimony
suggesting calling for the genocide of the Jewish people could be acceptable on
campus “depending on the context.” They might have to address it eventually,
because the issue is not going away—and the blandly smug Schultz is usually positioned
as the “voice of reason” in most episodes.
That
is assuming the series lasts that long. Extended Family feels very early
1990’s in the worst way. The “Pilot” episode revolves around Kearney’s attempts
to pass off a replacement after he accidentally kills his daughter Grace’s
goldfish while she was at camp. Somehow, we are supposed to believe the together-acting
Mariano spent 17 years married to him. Even two weeks would stretch credulity.
“The
Consequences of Making Yourself at Home” litigate the drama that arises when
Shultz starts making unauthorized upgrades to “The Nest.” At least “The
Consequences of Gaming” starts with a premise many parents can relate to. After
two weeks away, Mariano (Abigail Spencer looking too smart for her sitcom
antics) is shocked to find their son Jimmy Jr. reveling in the bloodlust of a
violent Grand Theft Auto-like video game. Unfortunately, they resolve
the episode with an annoyingly abrasive turn into woke politics.
Usually, a series needs a few seasons under its belt before building an episode around
nostalgic flashbacks. Of course, Night Court has the benefit of its
predecessors’ nine seasons in the 1980s. Yet, for its first special Christmas
episode, it is only flashing back a few weeks—back when Grinchy Dan Fielding
was still the unlikely Public Defender. He also kind of, sort of saves
Christmas, but he is not happy about it in “Night Court Before Christmas, which
premieres Saturday on NBC.
Recently,
Fielding accepted an appointment to the bench in his beloved hometown of New
Orleans, but he is still a weekly cast-member, so we will see how log that
lasts. Abby Stone also broke up with her fiancé, so now she is “dating herself.”
She gets torched pretty regularly over that, but the original show would have
been harsher.
Tonight,
the court is processing cases related to Santa Con, so it is packed with bad Santas.
A little girl struggling with her parents’ recent divorce happened to slip her
Christmas list to one of the disorderly drunks, because she would only entrust
it to old St. Nick himself. Judge Abby is determined to find it, because she is
hyper-into the Christmas spirit, so she enlists the reluctant Fielding. Meanwhile,
“Gurgs” the bailiff is hiding her own Christmas surprise for Fielding: a
personal appearance from his hero Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.
The
second “Night Court Before Christmas” (a reference to the original series’
Christmas episode) harkens back to what made the original so popular, but also
shows the limits of the playing-it-safe reboot. It is just too safe and too
polite. However, viewers should give Abdul-Jabbar credit for being a good
sport. He is willing to look a little silly in a surprisingly substantial guest
turn, which follows in the tradition of Mel Torme’s weird appearances on the
original.
In this Australian series, as is so often the case in real life, a great
deal of trouble results from a government worker’s incompetence. A negligent postal
worker accidentally lets a cute, Benji-ish dog slip out of his yard. His first encounter
with Gordon Crapp (yes, that is definitely a source of comedy) and Ashley
Molden is painful, but he will be the catalyst for a stormy Hepburn-and-Tracy
relationship in star-creators Patrick Brammall & Harriet Dyer’s
eight-episode Colin from Accounts, which premieres today on
Paramount+.
Technically,
Crapp hit the adorable little fur ball with his car, but Molden distracted him.
Its complicated and she’s mess, so yadda yadda, they’re in the veterinarian’s
office together. Dr. Yvette (the vet, they go there too) happens to be Crapp’s ex,
so it is super awkward. The poor guy has severe spinal damage and will need
special care for the rest of his life, but neither can bring themselves to
euthanize him. They do not know his real name, but they start calling him “Colin
from Accounts,” as part of goofy in-joke.
As
a result, they embark on dysfunctional joint custody arrangement that gets even
weirder when Crapp reluctantly allows Molden to moves in temporarily. It
certainly makes dating other people a bit of challenge, but, of course, there
is also plenty of sexual tension percolating between them.
Unlike
most recent sitcoms, Colin from Accounts is actually funny. That should
be a prerequisite for the genre, but a lot of showrunners forgot that part. It
is immediately obvious why this one works and so many others don’t. As writers
and co-leads, Dyer and Brammall are never afraid to mine humor from Colin’s
inability to go #2 without manual assistance, Crapp’s treatment for cancer of
the junk, and Molden’s binge-drinking and stalkerish behavior. At one point,
Crapp offends a tinder date by making pronoun jokes, but it is clear the humor
is intended at the expense of her hyper-sensitivity.
The
bickering couple’s appealing hot-and-cold chemistry also goes a long way. Both show
a knack for sarcastic one liners and physical slapstick. They have the skill
sets to land nearly any joke on the humor spectrum, which they regularly do
throughout the series.
Judge not, lest you be judged—unless you’re judging Evangelicals, in which
case, go ahead and judge away. That could be the unofficial motto of the CW’s
latest British sitcom import. The Lewis family belongs to a very strict church,
so boy, do they ever get mocked for it in creators Dillon Mapletoft &
Oliver Taylor’s Everyone Else Burns, which premieres Thursday on the CW.
David
Lewis belongs to the Order of the Holy Rod, so his family does too, whether
they like it or not. The strict church expels members for drinking coffee, but even
they think he is a total pill. Their teen daughter Rachel is a brilliant
student, but her parents are dead-set against her attending university, because
they believe it will be a cesspool of evil, an opinion that probably sounded
ludicrously deranged to the writers two weeks ago, before campus started
protesting in solidarity with terrorism. Now, maybe somewhat less so.
Regardless,
his wife Fiona yearns for some kind of life outside the house and more to the
point, away from him. She is not close to the neighbor Melissa, but the recent
divorcee is still willing to help her, out of disdain for her David. Their
young son Joshua is a true believer, to a psychotic degree, who gleefully
envisions his father suffering the torments of Hell. Like everyone else in the
congregation, the young brat prefers the company of Lewis’s rival in the
upcoming Elder selection, Andrew, who is the likable, caring exception to the
generally venomous portrayal of Evangelicals throughout the first two episodes.
If you can’t laugh at family, who can you laugh at? Of course, they still
have to be funny. The Phams are very hit-or-miss when it comes to comedy, but
boy do they try hard to bring the yuck-yucks. There is a lot of running around
and complaining in their suburban Canadian neighborhood, but each problem is
resolved in about twenty-two minutes by the diverse cast in creators Andrew
Phung & Scott Townsend’s Run the Burbs, which premieres Monday on
the CW.
Run
the Burbs is
shot in Ontario, but it is based on Phung’s Calgary suburb. Wherever it is, it
is definitely Canadian, which is what we are coming to expect from CW shows,
especially during the writers and actors strikes. Phung plays Andrew Pham, a
stay-at-home dad, who raises his abrasively woke teen daughter Khia and geeky
pre-teen son Leo, while his wife Camille makes money doing her “entrepreneurial”
thing. Of course, Khia has some sort of trendy alphabet sexuality, so they can
avoid the trouble of writing a complex persona for her.
There
are times when the writing appears poised to make sharp satirical commentary,
but it always backs off at the last minute. For instance, in the pilot episode “Blockbuster,”
the neighborhood block-party is in danger of cancellation, by the officious
paper-work-obsessed community-association president, but it down-shifts into a
cheesy Fast & Furious parody (in which Camille takes on a
street-racer for his party permit) rather than seriously skewering the buzzkill that
is bureaucracy.
Likewise,
“Heatwave” sees Khia accept a mural commission at their favorite bubble tea store,
only to squander it with a highly politicized and massively inappropriate monstrosity.
It is a great set-up to skewer the woke mentality, but the toothless follow-up
mostly consists of some apathetic shrugs.
In Canada, this show is sort of like Everyone Hates Chris or Young
Rock. Since comedian Mark Critch is not particularly well-known in America,
we can think of it as The Wonder Years with some Rush songs. Coming of
age is always hard, especially with an embarrassing family, but young Mark
Critch learns nearly everyone has an embarrassing family in Son of a Critch,
which premieres Monday on the CW.
The
Critch family lives on the outskirts of late-1980’s St. John’s, Newfoundland.
His father Mike (played by grown-up Mark Critch, who also narrates, like Daniel
Stern on The Wonder Years) is a gung-ho reporter for the local radio
station and his somewhat high-strung mother Mary boils all their food. Perhaps
his moody teen brother Mike Jr. is his least embarrassing family member.
However, sharing a bedroom with his crotchety grandfather Peter (“Pops”) is
definitely way up there, even though he is probably closer to Pops than his
parents or brother. Attending wakes to grade the food is one of their favorite things
to do together.
Regardless,
the best parts of Critch happen at the Catholic junior high school young
Mark is forced to attend. To say the Dean Martin-listening Critch is socially
awkward is an understatement, but he manages to befriend Ritchie Perez, the son
of successful Filipino doctors. Unfortunately, he is quickly bullied by “Fox,” one
of three thuggish red-haired siblings all known by their surname. She also has
a massive crush on Critch, which he reciprocates, even though he will not admit
it.
Based
on the first four episodes, young Critch’s relationships with Perez and Fox are
the best things going for the series. His rapport with grouchy grandpa is also
very likable, especially since the old dude is played by the legendary Malcolm
McDowell (try to forget how many times we have seen him naked in films like A
Clockwork Orange and Cat People). Listening to him kvetch with
Benjamin Evan Ainsworth, the young Mark Critch, is pretty amusing, particularly
in the funeral-focused second episode, “Lordy, Lordy, Look Who’s Dead.”
The
”Pilot” episode truly feels like a pilot, since it is literally Critch’s first
day of school. Still, the third act shows some of the chemistry developing
between Ainsworth and Sophia Powers and Mark Ezekiel Rivera as Fox and Perez. That
is where the charm and humor of the third and fourth episodes (“Cello, I Must
Be Going” and “Cucumber Slumber”) come from. That said, the digs at Catholic
school life and the portrayal of the nuns are mostly cliched and derivative
material.
Jazz fans had our special reasons to watch Rienhold Weege’s popular 1980s
sitcom Night Court. Not only was Mel Torme a regular guest star, it
always started with a jazzy theme song, featuring the great Ernie Watts on
alto. Unlike the family comedies that preceded it on NBC’s original “Must-see”
Thursday night line-up (ironically including The Cosby Show), Night
Court specialized in snarkier, take-no-prisoners humor. Sadly, several stars
of the original series have left us, including Harry Anderson (Judge Harry Stone)
and Markie Post (the public defender), but John Larroquette, who won four Emmy
Awards as Assistant DA Dan Fielding, is alive and very much part of the new Night
Court revival series, which premieres tomorrow on NBC.
Sadly,
Judge Harry Stone has also passed away, but his daughter, Abby Stone, has just
been appointed to the bench in his old New York City Night Court. In the pilot
episode, the new Judge Stone does not think much of the current public
defender, so she tries to recruit her father’s old friend and colleague, Dan
Fielding, to come over to the bleeding-heart side of the Force. That won’t exactly
happen, but Fielding still accepts the PD position, much to his own surprise.
The
pilot episode should please fans of the old show, because it makes extensive
references to Judge Harry. It also catches us up quickly, making it clear widowed
Fielding’s beloved wife helped moderate his extremes, but he always kept his
caustic wit, which has only gotten more acidic since her untimely death.
Even
though he now defends them, Fielding continues to mercilessly mock the court’s
weirdos and perverts. Obviously, that is the best part of the show. Larroquette
can still milk a line for laughs better than anyone in sitcoms. He also brings
a surprisingly wistfulness exploring the sadness of Fiedling’s grief. Of the
first six episodes provided for review, the best is the third, “Dan vs. Dating,”
wherein Judge Stone tries to coax the former ladies man back into the dating
scene. Of course, Fielding is as acerbic as ever, but guest star Wendy Malick
has the attitude and comedic flamboyance to hold her own opposite him. None of
the regular cast-members can also say that, at least not yet.
Still,
Kapil Talwalkar shows some potential as Neil, the lonely-hearted court clerk,
who is desperate to up his romantic game. India de Beaufort also earns some
laughs as Olivia, the self-absorbed, career-minded Night Court ADA. She is a
bit of a mini-Fielding, but the show can always use more of him.
Awkwardly,
the new Judge Stone and bailiff Donna “Gurgs” Gurganous have the same
personality quirks—naïve and eager to be liked. That is unfortunate for
Lacretta, who plays Gurgs, because Melissa Rauch, who stars as Stone, also
serves as a producer and she has a lot of sitcom cred, having co-starred on Big
Bang Theory (she was the one who was pregnant in about half the episodes). So, if one of them will ever be cut from the show, it is unlikely to be Rauch.
In
fact, the new Judge Stone is the new Night Court greatest weakness. Yes,
her father always tried to see the best in people, but he was also an old “friend of Stan Carlisle,” so he always recognized when someone was trying to pull his
leg. His street smarts are dearly missed in the fourth episode, “Justice
Buddies,” easily the worst episode of the initial half-dozen, about a pack of
woke brats who try to occupy the court. Fiedling is trying to exploit the
situation for his own benefit, which is reasonably in character, but that
leaves nobody to deflate their juvenile leftist posturing. Frankly, it is just
nauseating to watch their tantrum play out.
Since the 1960s, astronauts have always topped the list of the
most respected people. The reasons are obvious: their spirit of exploration and
their call to serve. Neither are much in evidence anywhere in this new
workplace sitcom. That wouldn’t be so bad, if it were funny, but it isn’t.
Anyone who still has good feelings for NASA and the space program should take a
hard pass on Moonbase 8, created by the small caucus of Fred Armisen,
Tim Heidecker, Jonathan Krisel & John C. Reilly, which premieres this
Sunday on Showtime.
Captain
Robert “Cap” Caputo, Dr. Michael “Skip” Henai, a Prof. Scott “Rook” Sloan, (played
by co-creators Reilly, Armisen, and Heidecker, respectively) and a rotating
guest fourth crew-member are prospective astronauts for a future Moon colony. Moonbase
8 is sort of a Big Brother-style audition, but with more science experiments. None
of the three regulars inspires much confidence, except maybe Henai, who is
technically solid and has the advantage of being the son of a revered
Apollo-era scientist.
In
contrast, Cap Caputo is a former helicopter pilot, whose Hawaiian tour company
went belly-up, whereas Rook is an Evangelical, who signed up for the tryout
mission, because his pastor convinced him it would be an excellent way to
spread the Gospel. Each episode, they face a crisis they must scramble to fix,
manage, and generally cover-up, without NASA knowing, to keep their Moon dreams
alive.
Pigskin
football evolved out of rugby and association football (a.k.a. soccer) way back
when, so a gridiron coach like Lasso out to have soccer deep down in his genes—way,
way down there. Regardless, he is a good coach who has a knack for reading his
players. At least that is what the former NCAA Division II champion figured
when he accepted an offer to coach a professional English football team. However,
people are counting on him to fail in co-creators Bill Lawrence & Jason Sudeikis’ Ted
Lasso, which premieres this Friday on Apple TV.
Lasso
went viral with his goofy white-guy dance moves after his team won the Division
II championship, but he is completely inexperienced when it comes to association
football. His aw-shucks Kansan persona is completely out-of-place in the
English Premiere league, but that is why new AFC Richmond owner Rebecca Welton
hired him. She just acquired control of the team as part of a messy
tabloid-fodder divorce from her notoriously philandering husband. To get back
at him, she wants to sabotage his beloved team. Enter Lasso.
Of
course, the first weeks will be rocky. Yet, Lasso has a few not-so-secret weapons.
The first is the loyal Assistant Coach Beard, who is a quick study when it
comes to any sport. The other is his genuineness. He truly cares about his players,
which even skeptics like cynical sports reporter Trent Crimm will begrudgingly
admit. The trick will be winning over bitter past-his-prime team captain Roy
Kent and Richmond’s prima donna striker, while Welton secretly schemes to
undermine him.
Based
on the first three episodes out of embargo, Ted Lasso is a pleasant
enough sitcom-style comedy, but real football fans hoping for a lot smart,
inside Premiere League satire might be disappointed. Lasso, who was originally
created for a series of NBC sports promos before getting the Apple TV call-up,
is more of a vehicle for gentle fish-out-of-water comedy than a thinly veiled
expose like Armando Bo’s wickedly droll El Presidente.
Still,
there are usually one two big laughs in each of the first three episodes, with
regular chuckles peppered in between. By sitcom standards, that’s not bad, but
it isn’t the stuff of big event, subscription selling streaming TV.
