Kevin Can F**k Himself (2021) s01e07 – Broken

High narrative density this episode, starting with Robin Lord Taylor getting this great prologue where we get a glimpse into his daily life. Then we see how Annie Murphy getting too involved with it doesn’t help anything. Then there’s excellent material for Murphy and Mary Hollis Inboden, not to mention the absurdly effective sitcom riff. Still, nothing really compares to the end teaser saying next episode is the season finale.

Season? Season? I don’t know if I can handle another season of “Kevin.” It’s too raw. Murphy starts the episode three times. First with Taylor in the prologue, then she’s in an interrogation room for a separate framing device. The episode proper finally starts with Murphy fighting with Raymond Lee. He makes some very sharp, very mean observations about her, and it sets her down a spiral. However, it’s not the right time for a spiral because she and Inboden are planning on killing Murphy’s husband, Eric Petersen, and framing him as an oxy kingpin. Taylor’s the trigger man. And Inboden is dating Candice Coke now; Coke’s the cop after the oxy kingpin.

So most of the episode is Murphy planning this murder while spiraling out about herself. It’s very dark, and it’s very intense. There’s a diffused bright spot for Inboden in the newfound connection with Coke, but it’s based on just as many lies as anything else in the show. Everything’s tainted; everything’s corrupted. It’s magnificently dark.

And I don’t know if I can handle another nine episodes. Especially if it means worrying about a cliffhanger and a renewal.

I mean, I’ll figure out how to handle it, obviously, but the show’s constantly upping the ante, and there ought to be a good enough somewhere.

The sitcom has Petersen and bestie Alex Bonifer starting a band. It’s ridiculous and often quite funny. We even get to see Coke in the sitcom universe, as Bonfier manifests it too. Though there’s some wonderful stuff from Inboden about the nature of perspectives and such. “Kevin” is very self-aware this episode—Craig DiGregorio and Kate Loveless get the script credit; it’s excellent. Anna Dokoza directs again. Again, excellent.

They even manage to make this episode’s cliffhanger feel like a cliffhanger on a sitcom (the laugh track editor on the sitcom sequences is phenomenal). Even though it’s this precisely layered, forecasted event, the ending still comes as a surprise.

I have no idea what to expect from next episode, which is great and all, but I hope they don’t mess it up. Murphy, Inboden, Petersen, and Dokoza deserve an unqualified win. Fingers crossed.

Kevin Can F**k Himself (2021) s01e06 – The Grand Victorian

What if “Kevin Can F**k Himself” doesn’t have a big twist? It certainly seems like it’s going to have a big twist, but it actually hadn’t occurred to me it might not have one until thinking about this post. I actually can’t guess, because it’s impossible to guess with “Kevin.” What is this show? Six episodes in—with two to go—and it’s still redefining its rules, realities, and potentials. The show’s sticking with the three plot lines—Eric Petersen living in a sitcom about an obnoxious dipshit, Annie Murphy as his suffering wife no longer experiences the sitcom reality (having realized she never did), and Mary Hollis Inboden as Petersen’s only non-bro pal, who’s stopped going to the sitcom for her social life (she exists in reality otherwise) and becoming Murphy’s friend, confidant, and criminal conspirator.

But it takes this episode a while to get to Petersen and the sitcom, which is a delightfully asinine and a wonderful meta look at sitcom devices. It’s his birthday and he wants both Murphy and best friend Alex Bonifer to think he’s spending the night with them so he runs between restaurants. Even without the later plot antics and Murphy’s nightmare of an experience at the restaurant, it’s still hilarious for Petersen’s physical comedy. But in a kind of exasperating way. Because there’s very little uncomplicated emotion in “Kevin,” particularly this episode for Murphy. She has a lot of drama with boss, teen crush, and current affair-haver Raymond Lee and not just because Lee and his wife, Meghan Leathers, show up unexpectedly at the restaurant. Because this episode has Murphy experiencing her own sitcom plot (including the hitman she hires to off Petersen—the excellent Robin Lord Taylor working at the restaurant), only it’s a tragedy of errors.

It’s awesome.

And it leaves the show in an entirely new place once again. It leaves a lot unresolved, but starts making moves on specific subplots, and it’s kind of incredible there are only two left. In addition to splitting the sitcom and drama scenes, I’m also wondering what it’d be like to marathon it. Because the twists and turns aren’t events as often as they’re character reveals, which might hit differently. They’re very good. It’s very good.

Script credit goes to Sean Clements (who is a co-exec and plays Inboden’s boyfriend, but isn’t on this episode). Real good script. More great direction from Anna Dokoza; the way the show juxtaposes the single camera drama and multi-cam sitcom? Audio commentaries might be cool. I’d at least read an interview. Like, it’s extraordinarily well-done here.

Oh, and not to mention it’s a special guest star episode of Petersen’s sitcom life—hockey player Sean Avery plays himself and gets into a spat with Petersen over Boston sports. So much going on. Like Inboden’s “everyone but her knew it was a date” date with cop Candice Coke. It’s real good. Inboden’s performance is probably the episode best, in fact.

Two more to go. It’s been a while since I’ve had such high hopes for a show to end well. But “Kevin”’s going to be good (and successful) no matter what at this point. They can pratfall the finish and the acting, the episodes, the sitcom commentary will stand tall.

Kevin Can F**k Himself (2021) s01e05 – New Patty

About three-quarters of the way through this episode, I realized how much I hope “Kevin Can F**k Himself” is a single season series. If they’re going to try to maintain the darkness escalation in the series through a cliffhanger… I’m not sure I can handle it.

The episode opens with a resolve to the previous one’s cliffhanger, which had Annie Murphy letting new pal Mary Hollis Inboden in on a big secret. They work through that secret—and it stays with the episode, looming out of the background—and spend the episode adjusting to being friends. There’s unexpected, sitcom-esque fallout from last episode and Eric Petersen’s jackass sitcom star casts Inboden out, forcing her into real life. Except Inboden’s been operating in both realities the whole time it’s turned out. She’s now main supporting cast member. It’s Murphy, then her. Petersen’s sitcom half of the episode (I’m getting more and more curious how episodes’d play with the drama cut out and just the sitcoms—and vice versa) isn’t a character thing. There’s no character development for the sitcom boys, with the possible except of dad Brian Howe. Howe doesn’t like Inboden’s replacement, who has the same name (Paddy though, not Patty), played by Jon Glaser.

While Murphy’s mostly got self-destructive drama with her job and then high school crush grown over Raymond Lee—both kind of results of breaking free of Petersen’s sitcom reality—Inboden’s got cops (Candice Coke), drug dealers (an excellent Robin Lord Taylor), and puppy-dog boyfriends (Sean Clements). Clements and Inboden have a couple phenomenal scenes this episode. So good.

Tom Scharpling’s got the writer credit; he gets some of the most expansive work in the show so far. Petersen, Howe, and Alex Bonifer go outside—we get to see the sitcom “Kevin” bar (where they meet Glaser). It’s initially weird since the show’s established the actual reality’s rules, so there’s another layer of discomfort. Sort of danger. All of the comforts to Petersen’s universe have an element of naïveté. There’s a threat of that naïveté collapsing and causing a lot of damage, which is one of the great things about the show. Even without the drama, there’s an anxious energy to it.

Great direction from Anne Dokoza.

Murphy and Inboden get a few scenes together—around five, I think—and have a really nice arc. If “Kevin”’s able to finish well, it’s going to be a delight to watch again for the acting. Murphy’s turning out to be a lot more risky than previously implied (which raises some questions about what should be considered daring, especially opposed to a sitcom reality… but even with that condition). But we’ll see; “Kevin” has been very nimble with its narrative distance so far.

It’s been a while I’ve been so enthusiastic about a show’s plotting but “Kevin”’s narrative feels like its in constant restraint and bucking. It’s exciting.

And I really hope they end it well because it just keeps getting better and an unqualified win would be very cool.

Kevin Can F**k Himself (2021) s01e04 – Live Free or Die

This episode ends on a big cliffhanger. A make-or-break cliffhanger. “Kevin” can eke out a decent series if they fumble the resolve, just because it’s so well-made and well-acted, but they’re halfway through the show—early for where you’d expect this cliffhanger if it weren’t going to change the show’s trajectory; but if they make it… “Kevin” will wow. And not just for the acting.

But the cliffhanger is really just the epilogue to the already packed, excellent episode. Annie Murphy and Mary Hollis Inboden hit the road in search of oxy and leave the sitcom boys—Murphy’s husband and “Kevin” of the title, Eric Petersen, and his numbskull bestie, Alex Bonifer—alone without any supervision. So of course they decide to run an escape room out of the basement and try to get rich quick.

Doing the sitcom antics without Murphy around is new for “Kevin.” It’s a lot easier to laugh at Petersen’s idiocy when he’s not actively injuring Murphy (or Inboden), with the show well aware it needs people to react to him being a dipshit so the escape room attendee cast is all awesome. Particularly Naheem Garcia, who can’t seem to stop laughing at Petersen’s goofiness, which is the perfect touch. Especially for the escape room plot line, as it showcases male stupidity just right.

Meanwhile, Murphy and Inboden try to navigate the drug dens of rural Vermont. Inboden’s fronting as a chill dealer, Murphy’s giving off major “custy” vibes. Inboden gets the episode’s first scene—copper Candice Coke questioning her about a drug bust and Inboden having to think on her feet (she’s so good)—but it quickly becomes about she and Murphy bonding. It’s initially a reluctant bonding, but once it gets going, it’s exceptionally good….

Making the daring cliffhanger frankly unwelcome. “Kevin” can easily rest on its laurels for a beat and and an episode transition but no, they go all in.

Mel Shimkovitz gets the script credit; excellent script. Anna Dokoza is directing again; she also did last episode. This episode’s better directed, partially because the series opens up—the road trip, the basement (though also just Petersen and company not around their usual victims). But Dokoza does phenomenal work with the actors. For as much as it seems like it’s going to be Inboden’s episode, eventually Murphy gets to take over (not in a crowding out Inboden way but narratively appropriate take over) and it’s spellbinding. Even more spellbinding.

Really hope they don’t fumble the cliffhanger resolve. Really, really hope they don’t.

Kevin Can F**k Himself (2021) s01e03 – We’re Selling Washing Machines

And here’s where “Kevin Can F**k Himself” elevates. I’m not sure what I was expecting from last episode’s combination cliffhanger and reveal, but I didn’t imagine the show was going to open up to include Mary Hollis Inboden in the reindeer games. Though I did have an inkling Inboden would be able to handle it in the previous episodes….

The episode opens with what initially seems like a world-breaker; Annie Murphy is alone in the living room with husband Eric Petersen’s friends. Now, if Murphy is only living in the imagined sitcom life when Petersen’s present… how come it’s going on seemingly before he’s walking into the house. With a sitcom husband stupid antic no less.

Because it turns out—I was right and “Kevin” is about being a woman in this shithole existence—and Inboden goes into the same sitcom land whenever she’s around the boys too. I wonder if the show’s going to figure out the “rules.” It probably doesn’t matter. But then I didn’t think Inboden was going to matter. “Kevin” is always surprising.

Starting with the opening being a flashback setting up Inboden’s very real, very sad history as an Oxy dealer. Her first customer turns out to be the town librarian, Phyllis Kay, who we met last episode. I’m scared to google and check if Worcester, MA really doesn’t give its librarians health insurance; it’s a good move as it starts building out the world of the show, very carefully, very quietly, because Murphy, Inboden, and Petersen’s sitcom world is overbearing but without actual detail. It just has sitcom detail.

The episode’s going to end up split between Inboden, Murphy, and then the sitcom plot. The sitcom plot is Petersen and numbskull sidekick Alex Bonifer (he’s Inboden’s brother and they seem to live together even though it also seems like Inboden lives with boyfriend Sean Clements) getting in a fight over cooking chili to bribe the snow plow guys to plow their block first and Murphy and Inboden having to spend more time with their respective albatrosses. Meanwhile, Murphy’s still trying to reconnect with ex-boyfriend Raymond Lee, who’s celebrating his eighth year sober and invites her to his chip ceremony. We get the whole backstory on it from Murphy’s perspective when she tells Inboden about it, as the two start becoming friends. Or something.

It’s a great episode. Inboden’s arc is fantastic, even if it ends up being a done-in-one; between that story and Murphy’s reintroduction to the world (and Lee), the sitcom gimmick feels like a different show. Only then when the gimmick comes back, it reminds it’s very much the same show. So good.

Murphy’s great, Inboden’s great. Lee’s good. Petersen doesn’t really get to show off, though he and Bonifer are exceptional at being annoyingly unfunny.

Anna Dokoza directs, Craig DiGregorio and Noelle Valdivia get the script credit; they do excellent work; best so far excellent work.

I’m all of a sudden expecting a lot more from “Kevin” and I was expecting a lot already.

Resident Alien (2021) s01e01

“Resident Alien: The TV Show” is not Resident Alien: The Comic Book. And it turns out, that arrangement works just fine.

When I first heard about the TV show, I was interested but more excited comic creators Peter Hogan and Steve Parkhouse would get to finish the comic, which has been low-selling, absolutely sublime, and wholesome in the best way. So I spent the pilot waiting for the show to reach that sublime and wholesome. It doesn’t. And it doesn’t try.

Instead, the show leverages lead Alan Tudyk’s constantly weird and funny performance as an alien pretending to be human who finds himself all of a sudden required to pretend to be human amongst the natives with nothing but a steady diet of “Law & Order” reruns to inform him.

The episode opens sheriff Corey Reynolds and deputy Elizabeth Bowen heading out to Tudyk’s cabin—the show takes place in Small-town Colorado, Canada—to ask Tudyk to consult on a murder. See, the town doctor has been murdered and the only other doctor in town is Tudyk. Only Tudyk’s been an alien for four months and no knows because previously he was just a seasonal resident.

Even before Tudyk really gets to show his stuff—and it’s when he plays off Sara Tomko, which is one of the comic’s core relationships and it’s beautifully realized onscreen—but even before Tudyk does anything… “Resident Alien: The Show” is worth it for Corey Reynolds. His comic timing is phenomenal, playing this absurd macho small-town sheriff who all of a sudden drops into these outlandish comedic rants and Reynolds sells every second of it. He gets to be the first consistent “Alien” laugh riot, with Tudyk only reaching those levels in the second half. And Tudyk’s got a lot more drama, whereas Reynolds just gets to be hilarious every time he’s on.

Most of Tudyk’s drama involves Tomko. She’s his erstwhile sidekick (more she was the murdered doctor’s assistant and doesn’t trust Tudyk so wants to keep an eye on him) and the pilot’s arc has them gradually bonding, though both with some reservations. Tomko’s good; “Resident Alien” requires a lot of its moving pieces to be unqualified successes and Tomko’s one of them. Tudyk and the writing (from Chris Sheridan) are the other two. Everything else is gravy, including Reynolds. So very impressed with the Tomko stuff.

Other apparently regular cast members include Levi Fiehler as the inexperienced, baby-faced mayor (which takes a while to get going but works) and Alice Wetterlund as the town bartender who’s pals with Tomko and potentially sweet on Tudyk.

There’s also Fiehler’s son, Jason Maybaum, who can see through Tudyk’s human disguise at the alien visage beneath, which provides a lot of comedy and, well, alien terror.

“Resident Alien” is not the comic adaptation I was expecting (and partially dreading). It’s ribald instead of sublime, sincere instead of wholesome; still an absolute delight.

Doom Patrol (2019) s01e15 – Ezekiel Patrol

In terms of ambition, scale, and execution, I’m not sure there’s anything better than Ezekiel Patrol. Writers Tamara Becher, Jeremy Carver, Shoshana Sachi, director Dermott Downs, the cast—they set a new bar. With Ezekiel, even though it’s from Grant Morrison, “Doom Patrol” has just fulfilled the concept of Vertigo TV. It’s sophisticated… okay, not suspense. Sophisticated superheroes.

The episode starts with a truly magnificent recap narrated by Alan Tudyk, which makes perfect since since he’s a cosmic narrator and whatnot; it’s not even Tudyk’s delivery, which is fine but not great, it’s the writing. It’s specific to each cast member and it seems like it can’t all be from the comic. But if it somehow is from the comic… I mean, bravo Grant Morrison. It happens.

After the recap and the resolution of the outstanding reveal, which shakes the foundations of the series to its very core and we still don’t understand all the fallout—the cast once again gets split and forced to confront themselves and each other. Some are more self-destructive than others, some are more empathetic than others, some are more uplifted than others—Matt Bomer’s arc with the Negative Spirit seems too good to be true, versus April Bowlby discovering the real world—despite being something she can tolerate if necessary—is really shitty.

Meanwhile Robotman (Brendan Fraser and Riley Shanahan—maybe my trepidation about being a big Fraser in “Doom Patrol” fan is because it seems to overshadow Shanahan’s movement work) and Diane Guerrero form a quizzically symbiotic relationship. Guerrero manages to get a lot of sympathy this episode, just because the storytelling is so good.

Alimi Ballard shows up, including for some flashbacks with Timothy Dalton. Ballard’s not great. It’s too bad. It seems like he could be great, then it falls apart. Doesn’t matter, everything else is great. Like guest star Curtis Armstrong. He’s great. Tommy Snider’s great. Charmin Lee’s great (she’s Vic’s mom in flashbacks). Dalton’s great.

And then there’s Phil Morris.

Morris isn’t the “hero” of “Doom Patrol: Season One”—it’s Bowlby because of course it’s Bowlby, she’s phenomenal—but his performance in the show is singular. I thought it was great before. Morris doubles it this episode. So good.

Great music from Kevin Kiner, great photography from Magdalena Górka. The special effects are excellent. Everything about it is excellent.

It’s been a long time since something’s had such a good first season close as “Doom Patrol.”

I can’t wait for what’s next.

Doom Patrol (2019) s01e08 – Danny Patrol

I just ran a find on this episode’s cast list because I couldn’t remember who did the voice of the new character, Danny the Street. Only to remember Danny only ever talks in text messages. Not, like, SMS messages, but text they’re able to arrange on the… well, not on the street because they’re the Street. But like marquees and store windows and, I don’t know, leaves in the breeze. Danny the Street’s clearly able to communicate because it really hadn’t occurred to me they didn’t speak.

Though maybe there’s some personified speaking in a daydream sequence.

Hopefully that paragraph will make more sense in a bit.

So Danny the Street is a sentient, gender-queer, teleporting street—like city street—and they’re in trouble. Jon Briddell’s a government agent—with the Bureau of Normalcy, which turns out to have some history with Matt Bomer and his alien ghost spirit laser electricity thing—and he’ll stop at nothing to destroy the street. Even though he doesn’t know what he’s trying to destroy—or who—including his former partner, Alan Mingo Jr. (sorry, in 2020 watching the old White cop, Black cop best buddies thing just seems forced and fake as opposed to admirably working class). Mingo had some significant self-discovery thanks to Danny the Street and gets to embody some of the tension. The obscurity is about the spoilers. Director Dermott Downs and writer Tom Farrell do some really neat things with Mingo’s character development and they’d cooler to see unfold, if only to appreciate the craft.

Bomer and Joivan Wade pair off to investigate the Danny the Street thing while April Bowlby and Robotman (voiced by Brendan Fraser and performed by Riley Shanahan, who apparently doesn’t have any dance training, which comes as surprise after this episode) have to try to save Diane Guerrero from one of her personalities who wants to live in the perfect nineties romantic comedy and turns out to be able to do it. Some good comic material for Bowlby, the aforementioned great dancing from Shanahan, and Guerrero’s at least supposed to be annoying this persona.

That subplot’s got nothing on the Danny the Street one—which gets Bomer closer to standout acting than I thought possible and again elevates the show’s potential; it’s an excellent episode.

Doom Patrol (2019) s01e02 – Donkey Patrol

So presumably someone at Warner Bros. watched the “Doom Patrol” pilot and thought it lacked a certain something. Whoever realized what it needed was Jovian Wade’s Cyborg deserves a bonus. Who even thought to ask if the character was available given the Justice League movie.

And it’s not like Wade’s great—he’s fine and amiable—or even a particularly likable character—he’s mostly a dick to everyone he meets—it’s just he’s got the exact right chemistry for what “Doom Patrol: The Show” needs. Wade also brings with him Phil Morris, who’s really good as his slightly shady dad who’s manipulating him—Wade learns during this episode—into his crimefighting career. Morris has big plans for Wade, who’s going to make it to the Justice League in five years.

Not the movie presumably.

Morris is great.

Also great this episode is April Bowlby, who is definitely able to pick up and carry the show just like I figured she’d need to do. The comedy just works better with Wade throwing a different kind of wrench in things. Also doing his part is Matthew Bomer, who has a great comedic sequence this episode when he tries to leave town only his electro-alien inhabitant says no.

Again, unclear if it’s really Bomer under the mask, but I at least saw some lips moving this time. There’s no way it’s not looped in though. He’s got to be muffled.

So if the new guy’s just what the show needs, if Bowlby and Bomer are doing all that heavy lifting, how are Brendan Fraser (voicing Robotman while Riley Shanahan does all the physical acting) and last episode’s de facto lead Diane Guerrero. Well…

Guerrero starts the episode really strong.

Then goes into a coma or something. She’s not talking. Once she starts talking again… it’s not great. It’s not terrible, but you do wonder who else they tested. As for Fraser and Shanahan? It’s almost like writers Neil Reynolds and Shoshana Sachi only wanted to give Robotman and Guerrero so much. There’s a big effects sequence when the rest of the Patrol go into a goat’s belly—just watch it—but maybe making the Robotman helmet move is really costly.

Shanahan’s physical performance is better here. Fraser’s just playing potty-mouth Fred Flintstone though.

Wait!

He didn’t play Fred Flintstone! Wow.

Okay. Well. He’s doing a rehearsal for it.

There are some really well-directed sequences—Dermott Downs—and some surprisingly great music—Kevin Kiner and Clint Mansell—so even with Alan Tudyk’s narration still being cheap “Rocky & Bullwinkle” and with some optics about Bomer’s closest sixties homosexuality, “Doom Patrol” is on the rise.

As Above, So Below (2014, John Erick Dowdle)

As Above, So Below is a combination of a Goonies rip-off, a Tomb Raider rip-off, an Indiana Jones spin-off (which might just be the Tomb Raider rip-off), and, I don’t know, either Blair Witch or every other found footage horror movie where the third act just decides it’s time for image overload in lieu of narrative.

But for the first one and a half acts, following “We Called Your Grandpa’s Dog Indiana” archeologist Perdita Weeks (basically if she weren’t terrible, the movie could be at least solid until the third act but she’s terrible so it doesn’t matter from go) as she tries to find the Philosopher’s Stone underneath Paris. Presumably a London-based sequel would have them looking for the Sorcerer’s Stone across the Channel. Wokka wokka.

The opening is her recording herself adventure archeology-ing in Iraq. Apparently the camera is in the hijab. One thing about Dowdle’s direction—it’s more inept than bad. Like Dowdle and cinematographer Léo Hinstin have no idea where to place the cameras to get the camcorder feel. Especially once they start using “pen cameras” in their headlamps. It doesn’t help the documentarian—oh, right, in the story proper Weeks isn’t filming herself, she has a sycophant cameraman Edwin Hodge—it doesn’t help Hodge is both bad and poorly written.

Then there’s Ben Feldman as an Aramaic scholar who breaks into historical buildings and repairs their features for the benefit of mankind. Feldman’s not good but he’s really, really likable. Watch “Superstore.” Not instead. Just watch “Superstore.” Also, obviously instead.

Then there are the French catacombs climbers… François Civil, who constantly looks like he’s surprised they’re making a real movie, punk damsel in distress Marion Lambert, and finally Ali Marhyar, who gets the least to do in the movie and is—consequently, it seems—the best. Always good when Marhyar gets a moment. They’re never bad.

There are ghosts of dead little brothers, dead dads, dead friends. There are scary French hipster witch covens. There is Weeks—after not getting anywhere near as much male gaze throughout as one might expect from the genre—finally down to her tank top and slick with blood.

The script, by director Dowdle and Drew Dowdle—based on the ineptness of the script, they’ve got to be related—seems like an elongated second act sequence in a tent pole movie. Like one where Indiana Jones’s granddaughter comes across the last Goonie and they go for an adventure.

Sadly, no sign of One-Eyed Willie, but they do find the Last Crusader. Oops, spoilers. But not really because you shouldn’t be watching As Above, So Below, because there’s “Superstore.”