Comedy, or something, on HBO
What is funny? And what is not? Jokes that amuse some might offend others or draw blank stares and produce bewilderment. The charge “That’s not funny!” is often a sign of cultural, gender or generational divide. I can remember being amused by “Animal House” at a time when older critics and viewers dismissed it as “slob humor.”
So I’m perfectly aware that I may just be too old to “get” the humor in the “Drew Michael” comedy special (10 p.m. today, HBO, TV-MA). That’s not to say I didn’t find it interesting, but in a way that left me slightly depressed about the future of comedy. If not the future itself.
To call the special self-indulgent is an understatement. And missing the point. It begins with an old-fashioned HBO intro from the 1980s and then settles into a blank blue screen for what seems like five minutes, while Drew conducts sleepy pillow talk with a woman. Absent any visuals, we get a lot of intimate chatter of the “sweet nothings” variety. Or in the vein of “you had to be there.”
Finally, Michael appears in tight close-up to talk about himself. Most, if not all, comedians talk about themselves, but often they use such anecdotes to make broader points about society and the human condition. Drew Michael keeps it to the first-person singular.
His diligent self-absorption is compounded by the fact that he was born with a hearing impairment, something he’s rather angry about. And his indignation and resulting isolation have given way to dark thoughts that he dredges up to share and to shock us, as if he were in possession of a joke that only he could hear.
He’s more interested in our reactions to his subterranean musings than in entertaining us. So when we don’t laugh about his desire to have sex with animals before eating them or indulging in incest, the joke, it seems, is on us.
Like I said, I guess I’m an old guy. I don’t “get” Drew Michael and probably never will. At the same time, I’m not so confused or concerned by his performance or material, but by the fact that he has an audience at all. Directed by Jerrod Carmichael, who has frequently made me laugh and think. Go figure.
RACE RELATIONS
“Hoop Dreams” director Steve James spent a year embedded in a Chicago-area high school to create the 10-part documentary series “America to Me” (10 p.m. Sunday, Starz, TV-MA).
Oak Park and River Forest High School gained notoriety and sparked controversy in 2015 when the principal held a “Black Lives Matter” assembly and invited only students of color. This resulted in protests from white students and their parents, who thought white voices were being silenced.
“America” follows students, teachers and administrators as they discuss what it’s like to be black in America and in high school today, and the difficulties of self-expression in a culture where so many seem adamantly hostile to a discussion of race or an appreciation of history that wanders beyond flag-waving.
Curiously, “America” is both controversial for its focus on race and its setting. In the months since the Valentine’s Day massacre at a high school in Parkland, Florida, students have begun to organize to speak out and stand up to the “new normal” of mass shootings.
This has resulted in frequent crude attacks on the student organizers. This is hardly the first time that fear of outspoken youth has been at the center of the American conversation.
The documentary also arrives at a time when television’s fictional depiction of high school could use some revising. Netflix’s recent introduction of “Insatiable,” centering on fat-shaming, high school cruelty and payback, received some of the most scathing reviews of the year. Too often, high school melodramas are literally stuck in time. The CW’s “Riverdale” is set in the present, yet is a “Twin Peaks”-like mash-up of small-town cliches dating back to the “Archie” comics of the 1940s. Perhaps it’s time to shake up the script.
Joining “America” is the absurd high school docuseries send-up “American Vandal,” returning for a second season on Netflix on Sept. 14.
END OF THE RUN
“Sharp Objects” (9 p.m. Sunday, HBO, TV-MA) wraps up its first and, one hopes, only season. Filled with remarkable performances, it joins HBO’s other well-produced dramas that put viewers through a kind of grim endurance test.
Camille’s (Amy Adams) gruesome story verges on the absurd. You could almost create a drinking game trying to keep up with her habit of consuming vast quantities with few aftereffects. How she manages to survive a life of tragedy, self-mutilation and alcoholism and still turn out crackerjack journalism is anybody’s guess.
Speaking of long, dark HBO slogs, “The Deuce” returns on Sept. 9.
Kevin McDonough can be reached at kevin. tvguy@gmail.com.