TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE
United States of Al wants to be likable, but forgets to be interesting in doing so
United States of Al CBS
Here's a complete list of things we learn about Awalmir, or “Al,” in the first four episodes of the new show ostensibly about him: Al (Adhir Kalyan) is a friendly Afghan translator. Al loves qorma-e-sabzi (an Afghan spinach stew), his mother, sister, countless cousins and best U.S. friend Riley (Parker Young), a former Marine who retained Al's services while stationed in Afghanistan. Al is respectful of everyone, though he can also be competitive. A devout Muslim, Al had never seen a woman's bare legs before meeting his driving test administrator in Ohio. End of list.
The latest from Chuck Lorre Productions, created by The Big Bang Theory alumni David Goetsch and Maria Ferrari, and executive-produced by Reza Aslan and Mahyad Tousi, United States of Al takes pains to humanize its Middle Eastern leading man — though Kalyan, while well-versed in the sitcom rhythms required of this multicam production, is notably, and noticeably, of South Asian descent.
Al quickly endears himself to Riley's entire family, including his wild-card sister Lizzie (Elizabeth Alderfer), ex Vanessa (Kelli Goss), daughter Hazel (Farrah Mackenzie) and cantankerous father, Art (an especially growly Dean Norris). Riley trusts Al with his life, and vice versa.
Making a classic “odd couple” out of a U.S. veteran and his trusted Afghan translator is an interesting idea to mine out of a very real phenomenon coming out of an endless war, but it's a much more complex dynamic than this multi-cam sitcom can reasonably capture.
While Al is thrilled to be out of Afghanistan to the point that Riley's Ohioan suburb might as well be Disneyland, the show does let them both acknowledge some of the harsh realities that brought them together in the first place, even if mostly in the form of clumsy jokes about the cost of U.S. imperialism.
Despite the show's obvious efforts otherwise, the unfortunate fact remains that Al is the show's least-defined character even though he's supposed to be the star. He's just a chipper harbinger of joy and reason, who patiently explains to a puzzled Hazel that he's living in Riley's garage because “it was the only bed offered to me when I got to this country, so I took it, and I said thank you. Because I know how to be grateful for what I have.”
On a very basic level, it's nice that Al is a kind, sweet man who genuinely wants the best for everyone around him. Middle Eastern TV characters, as the well-meaning team behind United States of Al well knows, have too often been caricatures or terrorists who barely get much consideration beyond a single episode, let alone their own shows.
But Al is a Middle Eastern caricature of a different kind than the evil ones who became ubiquitous onscreen after 9/11. Instead, Al is a textbook Good Immigrant with few discernible wants or needs of his own beyond making skittish white people comfortable.
United States of Al clearly wants to do right by Al, and all the real Als in Afghanistan who inspired him — but doing that requires way more than mere inclusion.
It would require actually centring Al in his own show instead of putting Al at the centre of everyone else's problems. It would mean giving the other Afghan characters more to do than briefly react to Al's new life in the U.S. over Facetime. It would mean acknowledging the thornier aspects of Al and Riley's relationship, forged in firefights. It would mean letting Al have actual flaws, rendering him less of a platonic ideal and more of a human being.