 |
| /EW |
When The Last Man on Earth premiered, critics didn’t only like the show: they were invested in it, quick to make note of its promise for the slowly-decaying network sitcom. Ed Bark wrote that while it “has no chance at all to be a blockbuster in league with Fox’s new Empire ... it’s another distinctive example of what the Big Four broadcast networks should dare and do.” James Poniewozik of Time said that “it does not seem like the sort of thing that would be a primetime network sitcom. And that’s precisely why it should be one.” For God’s sake, the headline of Andy Greenwald’s review for Grantland read: “Proof of Life: ‘Last Man on Earth’ and a Glimmer of Hope for the Network Sitcom.”
And then, the ratings were great.
Between Empire and Black-ish and Fresh off the Boat (which has experienced a slow and consistent creative and commercial decline as well, albeit not as severely), there was -- and, okay, still is -- a sense of optimism surrounding contemporary network TV. Finally, they were trying new things, and -- voila! -- it was paying off. Hell, an incomprehensible industry backlash has settled in now that white actors aren’t always the de facto choice in pilot casting this time around. (right, Deadline?)
But of course, hype can only get you so far. It’s been crushing to watch Last Man on Earth week-to-week. A show that opened rather brilliantly has, episode by episode, deflated into something conventional and bland, if (at best) mildly funny. There’s a marginal reduction in the inventiveness, a budding staleness in the material even though we’ve only caught four hours of it. The show’s increasing misguidedness makes it hard to believe that those behind the first few episodes have remained on-board (which they have).
Last Man on Earth begins with Will Forte as Phil Miller, kicking it in Tucson, AZ as the last man alive. Directors Phil Lord and Christopher Miller -- behind, among other things, the inventive Jump Street reboots -- immediately rebuff the idea that network comedy’s mere visual goal is to be unobtrusive; that it has to look cheaply agreeable. The two infuse frames with terrific little details, capturing with comedic gusto the specificity of a desolate landscape that’s been tarnished by Phil, its only inhabitant (the picture atop this post says everything in that regard). And Forte introduces Phil as a sweetly odd central figure, milking laughs out of Phil’s pining for some human (and sexual) contact and passing the time by interacting with his ball buddies -- as in, ping pong and tennis balls with faces drawn on them. The humor of Last Man on Earth begins as delightfully odd and specific, and there’s a curious unpredictability to the viewing experience -- how could they make a show out of this? -- that only deepens the investment.
Over time, the show established its ensemble. First to come in was Carol, played with characteristic lunacy by Kristen Schaal, who sort-of cons Phil into marrying her under the impression that it's up to them to repopulate the Earth. Carol’s commitment to the rules -- parking in a parking space even though no one else is there; stopping at a stop light when there’s not a car on the road -- aggressively foils Phil’s carefree, toilet-bowl, margarita-pool attitudes. And bubbling under the surface is Phil’s disappointment at being left with Carol, a whiny, stickler of a “last woman on Earth.” But the dynamics push the comedy through. Schaal is an awfully polarizing actress, but she’s so brazenly bizarre in a way no other comic actor is -- I find her energy irresistibly weird. And she has great chemistry with Forte.
But the roots of a far-less interesting show were planted, one that would rely on archetypal dynamics and interaction rather than take advantage of its most unusual premise, locale and worldview. And in came January Jones as Melissa, finding Phil just a second too late and setting up a painfully unfunny and banal romantic triangle. Last Man on Earth suddenly dedicated most of its time to Phil foolishly -- and I mean foolishly, with Forte hamming it up beyond the confines of both “what’s funny” and “what makes sense” -- trying to forgo his commitment to Carol. Melissa was as enigmatic as Carol was clear-as-day, but not without an accompanying reason. Jones has proven adept with comedy in Last Man, but she’s got next-to-nothing to work with, except to bring out the buffoon in Phil.
As for where we are now: Mel Rodriguez has (for now) completed the ensemble, and is warmly funny as a new romantic rival to Phil (his character and Melissa have fallen in love, much to Phil’s chagrin). But the show’s potential already feels squandered. Likability is the last thing I care about as a viewer or a critic, but Phil has emerged as a ridiculous, nasty character who fails to elicit any laughs for his actions. He’s unpleasant to be around, a far cry from what Larry David or the cast of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia bring to their respective shows. There’s no basis for the humor, nothing remotely edgy or crafty: he’s working within an absurdly basic premise, in which he gets the not-so-great-girl just before the girl-of-his-dreams shows up. It’s a witty extension of the bro comedy, exploring a tired trope within an original construct. But a tired trope is a tried trope, and just because the construct is original doesn’t mean anything within it is.
There’s still some charm to Last Man on Earth, mainly stemming from the work of Schaal and, now, Rodriguez. But with the sense of wonder and uncertainty gone, we’re left with the characters and the comedy. Phil has gone from a lonely bachelor to one hell of a dick, spouting lame fat jokes and sexist remarks without a smidge of bite or ingenuity. The supporting characters, while individually engaging, orbit around him. And while the world of the show remains a funny backdrop, it’s to diminishing returns -- the show’s preoccupation with Phil has prevented any serious engagement with the empty planet. Generally, the story is this: since all of the attempts at humor are filtered into the Phil/Melissa dynamic, inevitably the laughs have become rather infrequent.
The issue with Phil as a protagonist is not that he’s unpleasant -- though he is. It’s that there’s no reason to care about an opaque character with such misplaced priorities. The response to the show certainly echoes this conundrum: viewership has cratered, and what was once a critical consensus is now a disparate field of disappointed voices. Maybe Last Man on Earth always fancied itself as a boyish, juvenile sitcom, operating initially within the guise of charming oddity before more-fully introducing itself, but I’d like to think otherwise. I’d like to think that Forte, also the show’s creator, made a wrong turn -- and that there’s still time to course-correct. Because as it stands, Last Man on Earth is a missed opportunity in a land full of them.
Grade: C
Update: My feelings about the show improved considerably in its back half. I wrote a critical piece for Indiewire on how it challenges our notion of the sitcom. Read it here.