Category: tv

With Jason Sudeikis as the lead, I really expected this to be nothing more than a raunchy goofball comedy. Don’t get me wrong, I like Sudeikis, but most of the stuff I’ve seen him in fell into that typecast. So it was really refreshing to find out that his character here is more like Earl from My Name is Earl. That is, Ted Lasso is an overbearingly friendly and optimistic “hillbilly” out to make the community a better place despite no one liking him. Ted Lasso the show wants to be feel-good entertainment so badly, though, that the stakes actually feel quite low. Sure, everyone expects/wants Ted to fail when he’s first hired as the new football coach, but most of these naysayers are won over before the season has even ended. And the biggest possible confrontation—Ted finding out his boss purposefully sabotaged his efforts—is quickly forgiven, as only Ted would do.

At least the season didn’t conclude with the obvious underdog win, showing that they have some restraint with the feel-goodery and are setting up decent goals for Season 2. It is weird, though, how so much of the sport at hand happens offscreen. I’m not a big sports fan myself, and I understand that filming a football match would seriously complicate the production. Still, it always felt like a cheap cop-out whenever the show would jump from a pre-game locker room scene straight to a post-game locker room scene. But I get that the locker room scenes are the whole point. While we don’t get to know very many of the team players, the few we do spend time with are fun and help round out the cast. I also liked how a lot of seemingly pointless side stories still tie into the bigger picture in the end. It’s a tightly written show. I just hope Season 2 adds a little more antagonism to the mix so things don’t become too cozy and sugary.

I really didn’t like this season in the beginning and was about ready to abandon the show halfway through. Watching Dory’s captive torment play out was not fun. It was too much of a regression for her character considering where she was headed in Seasons 2 and 3. Sure, she probably deserved what she got and needed to be “put back in place.” The other issue, though, is that Alia Shawkat’s performance didn’t sell it for me. I can’t pinpoint it, exactly, but something felt off. Maybe it was too difficult to effectively act against Chip, who was an incredibly annoying character. I didn’t mind Chip at first, but once it became clear that he was here to stay, his whiny brainwashing antics grew really tiresome.

The only reason Season 4 is worth watching to the end is that you still get some great material with the rest of the cast. I do like the irony of Dory being a legitimate missing person, but only Elliot, Drew, and Portia care enough to try to investigate. It just takes way too long to get to the point where they realize she’s in trouble, and then they find her way too easily. Those few episodes in between are pretty fun, though. Even the Chantal-centric episode is good, and I normally hate going off on tangents with side characters. In summary, Dory was the worst part of the season, and the fake-out death at the end didn’t do her any favors. It would have been pretty crazy if they went through with it, but maybe Season 5 will redeem her somehow. Knowing how tonally different this show can be from season to season, I’m still interested in where they go next.

Tom’s back! But… so is Loudermilk’s cartoonishly bad dad. At least Memphis didn’t return! And neither did Brooke, the massage therapist. Man, why’d this show set up so many threads that never paid off? We obviously missed important scenes with Tom, given that the group knew he had been lying when he slumped back into the church yet we never saw them find out. Maybe it’s production issues that have been holding this show back. Whatever it is that’s going on, Season 3 feels a little rougher around the edges.

Season 3 does a better job of using Claire, though. She’s given more to do and has a great episode where she struggles to date someone who isn’t himself a recovering addict. It’s nice to be reminded of the show’s overarching theme instead of the AA group simply being an excuse to have a quirky ensemble cast. And speaking of the group, this season feels more like Mugsy’s show now than Loudermilk’s. Mugsy is the only one still tempted by alcohol and probably has the most to lose by succumbing to it.

As for Loudermilk, he’s just kind of… there. I liked the initial storyline with him needing to take care of his baby brother, but this devolved into that tired joke of two guys squabbling like a married couple, with Ben (my already least favorite character) playing the part of the nagging wife. And Loudermilk ignoring Mugsy’s distress in his most desperate time of need kinda rubbed me the wrong way, especially when the season ends with a big win for Loudermilk and Mugsy leaving the group. I know we’re not supposed to love Loudermilk, but I also shouldn’t want to hate him.

Loudermilk reminds me a lot of Jim Jefferies’s short-lived series called Legit. It’s a show that tries to balance foul-mouthed comedy with heart while having a refreshingly inclusive cast. When your setting is an alcoholics support group, though, it’s easy to get away with all those things. But that doesn’t mean the show is perfect, and Season 2 improves as much as it stumbles compared to Season 1. The jokes are funnier now, and Loudermilk feels more three-dimensional instead of being a Larry David-esque asshole to everyone. The storylines just aren’t as interesting, with episodes that border on sitcom ridiculousness. The episode about the fighting match at the church is particularly egregious.

It’s also really weird that the show just completely dropped Tom and Cutter. Like, they were a huge part of Season 1 (almost to a fault) and then outright disappeared. Claire, too, isn’t given much to do for most of the season, save for one episode that revisits her family issues. Outside of that, Claire is basically the Smurfette of the group. Okay, what’s really weird is the sudden introduction of the massage therapist who appears for one episode to fix Loudermilk’s back and give him a flirtatious look. I’m worried this is going to turn into a convoluted love triangle when Memphis inevitably comes back in Season 3, and a love triangle is the last thing this show needs.

Speaking of love triangles, I’m disappointed that Ben not only returned but that his relationship with Loudermilk quickly resolved to status quo again. I don’t know what it is about this character or actor, but his lines and/or delivery never feel genuine. I love all of the other characters, though. Loudermilk is a great protagonist, and the rest of the support group members get ample screen time in this season. The episode where Loudermilk discovers he has a baby brother, New Guy hits it off with Louise, and Cloud gives a speech on accepting who you are was just the perfect blend of sweet and funny. I really hope we get more of that in Season 3, and I really hope I’m wrong about the love triangle.

Upload is what happens when a TV producer watches The Good Place and thinks, “I want to make that but even more cynical.” The two shows do share a lot in common, though I’ll just say it right now, Upload is the “Not as Good Place.” What bugged me most about Upload was its cheesiness. Yeah, The Good Place was cheesy, too, but it rectified that by being 1) actually funny and 2) surprisingly heartfelt. The acting in Upload just doesn’t feel genuine, and the dialogue is kind of silly throughout. Every attempt at direct humor falls absolutely flat, but the show isn’t without some merit. The background details and offhand comments about the state of the world are pretty amusing.

The best thing about Upload is its world building. This is a not-too-distant future straight out of an episode of Black Mirror where technology has advanced at a realistic pace to form a hellish society. Companies like Oscar Meyer and Intel have merged, there are delivery drones and self-driving cars everywhere, poor people have to eat 3D-printed food, and even in the afterlife you’re bombarded by ads. There are some really interesting ideas at play here, like how VR has trivialized death but also complicates relationships post-death. Alas, the story isn’t about the technology, it’s about the people, and the subpar acting and writing make it hard to get invested in that aspect of the show.

I love how Larry David makes a new season of Curb whenever he feels like it. Because of the large gaps between seasons, though, the aging of the cast is really noticeable. Poor Richard Lewis looks like he’s being held together with glue and Popsicle sticks. Other actors like Jeff Garlin feel really off their game. I saw a comment somewhere noting that Jeff Garlin frequently just repeats what someone else has said in a scene but louder, and now I can’t unsee it. Only Larry David and JB Smoove seem to be having the same amount of fun as they did years ago. While the character of Larry David gets crankier as time goes on—he’s a pretty big asshole in Season 10—at least the real Larry appears to be enjoying himself.

All that said, Season 10 is still fun, and I’m genuinely sad that the show has “ended” again. I mean, I’ll take a bad season of Curb over any other show on TV nowadays. Larry and Leon have some really funny interactions in Season 10, and the spite store is a treasure trove of amusement. The initial focus on Larry’s fumblings in a “Me Too world” are a bit too cringey for my liking, though. There’s a scene where Larry films himself asking a woman for consent to kiss her, and it’s just… awful. I’m glad that storyline went away early on. Unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of other memorable plots in the season. It’s ultimately kind of scattered and forgettable, with episodes that run a tad too long and are overstuffed with guest stars. But when it comes to Curb, I’m just happy to get anything.