Showtime’s new comedy series HAPPYish comes from essayist Shalom Auslander. For those not familiar with his work, one could succinctly describe his writings as “philosophically angry.” And, perhaps not so surprisingly given its title, the same description could be attributed to his series.
Unfortunately, in a television format, this “philosophically angry” approach gives way to an irritable entitlement and an insular worldview. The expression of rage is as palpable as its weightlessness.
Steve Coogan stars as Thom Payne, an advertising executive in despair. He laments within the pilot’s first five minutes, “Fuck Mad Men!” He’s taking Prozac. He can’t get it up for his wife, Lee (Kathryn Hahn). Whatever shred of integrity there was in advertising is being drowned out by tech-savvy Swedes. As Ellen Barkin’s headhunter-confidante tells him, Thom has a “low ceiling of happiness.” He just has to accept it.
The main problem here is that we’re given very, very little reason to care. Thom’s rants are as frequent as they are laced with profanity. It’s a constant stream of whiny, loud rage, but his “me against the world” shtick is seriously lacking in bite. Auslander is diligently trying to capture that Larry David essence, with Thom (and Lee, for that matter) battling the unending banalities and idiocy of the rest of the world. But the equation he works with is backwards. Aside from being stripped of intellectual pretensions, Curb Your Enthusiasm knows who the joke is on, and consequentially allows it to play out brilliantly. Happyish is a show that doesn’t really understand that concept. It’s either dourly invested in its protagonist’s state of being, or is incomprehensibly amused by his exasperated, lengthy diatribes. In the second episode, Thom and Lee explain that they live in a “bubble.” More specifically, they have to: everyone else is too annoying or stupid or whatever to be included. (A random couple, played by Molly Price and a severely wasted Andre Royo, is apparently the exception.) I’m not sure if we’re supposed to find it endearing or sad, but the end result doesn’t come close to either.
Auslander wears his intellect on his sleeve. His characters’ exploration of the pursuit of happiness is filtered through references to the pessimism of Camus, the artful banalities of Beckett, the monstrosity of Adolf Hitler -- you know, smart stuff. Not only does the show neglect to actually engage with, say, the complicated themes of Beckett as a playwright, but the allusions themselves are far beyond the bounds of realistic human discourse or even thought. It’s the very definition of pretentious: the mentions of big thinkers and complex ideas within a relatively well-trodden premise take the show out of reality and into stupidity. The show tries to provide a theoretical basis for anger and disillusionment, but all it actually does is remove the vital, human element of those ideas.
This renders Thom viscerally, unnecessarily unpleasant, and Coogan doesn’t help matters much. I’ve liked the actor in other works quite a bit, but he’s simply a bad fit here. The role was originated and developed by the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, an actor of immense complexity and emotion who could imbue even a predacious Catholic priest with a hint of sympathy. His natural melancholy seems the essential ingredient that Coogan’s Thom is missing. There’s not much easy comedy on the page, and there’s a very specific calibration that needs to be brought to the character’s rants and ramblings as a result. Coogan’s choice is straight-up snark, perpetuating Auslander’s empty elitism. He’s not a strong enough dramatic actor to make you feel his anger beyond the unfunny, blatant absurdity. The writing isn’t good regardless, but I can only imagine what Hoffman would have brought to this part. It’s a role so crassly annoying and unamusing that a little empathy and humanity would go a long way here.
To be clear, Happyish’s problems are numerable. There’s an attempt, for instance, at something cleverly artistic in the editing, but what we end up watching is ineffective and choppy. Most scenes are segmented by a sharp cut-to-black, as if to ascribe the series a vignette-like structure. Mostly, it disrupts the tone and confounds the show’s pacing, especially since it’s airing on Showtime where episodes run straight through. You get the sense that Auslander and his technical team are trying to be different, or innovative, or maybe just specific. But even if its editing trick worked, Happyish’s look beyond it is drearily bland. Ken Kwapis is a better behavioral director than a visual one, and while he scores some nice isolated moments between Coogan and Hahn, the photography leaves a lot to be desired. From the angling -- see its many upward shots, with Coogan physically superior but emotionally inferior -- to the lighting, it’s all very obvious. When at Casa Payne, the lighting is warm and the mood is easy. In the office, it’s grey and cold and, well, corporate. Considering its preoccupation with all things philosophical, that Happyish is never in any way surprising is perhaps its greatest crime.
There is a bright spot here, and it’s Kathryn Hahn. Any fan of her standout work in inessential studio comedies like Wanderlust and Step Brothers, or her more nuanced work in Jill Soloway’s Afternoon Delight and Transparent, was likely waiting for her to get a role like this. As Lee, the no-bullshit, equally-ostracized and vivaciously-determined wife to Thom, she is tremendous. You feel her character’s steadfast pain, which if I’m correct seems to be the whole point of this misguided concoction.
The series’ second episode is easily its best so far, as it reorients to focus on Lee. She’s left to confront her horrible relationship with her mother, in the show’s only real bout of exploring anger from an emotional and not existential standpoint. Auslander’s writing is so devoid of nuance -- he literally spells out every feeling and piece of history that’s relevant -- that only a great actor could overcome its limitations. Hahn makes it work, her expression of anger as intense as her complete, infallible resonance. It’d be an unimpeachably great role if the writing were better. Hell, even with the writing as is, the show would be a lot better if centered on her.
But with episode three, we’re back on Thom at the ad agency, fighting the young guys, worrying about death and medication, shouting about integrity and the meaning of it all. It’s not especially funny, and eventually, it’s just a boring, empty, purposeless slog. And yet, I suspect the real insult to Auslander would be in reference to its inadvertent intellectual vacuousness.
Maybe that was a little wordy. But after getting through a few hours of Happyish, it feels only appropriate. So does being as obnoxiously angry at it as possible -- because, in case you couldn’t tell, it’s not very good anyway.
Grade: D+