Lucky Hank? More Like Lucky Viewer
Gene Shalit, R.I.P.
Over the past 30 years, Bob Odenkirk has become a maestro of malice. An adept of anger. A sultan of spleen.
No matter which character Odenkirk is playing at any particular moment, he specializes in a unique brand of simmering, self-loathing fury that can explode into a violent rage at any moment. He’s the funniest hothead since Jackie Gleason.
A while back, somebody made a montage of Odenkirk’s belligerent freakouts on my beloved Mr. Show.
WARNING: QUITE RUDE
I thought about using one of Odenkirk’s patented “GODDAMMIT!!!” outbursts as my ringtone, but that’d be pretty tough to explain to my parole officer.
That’s why it was so satisfying to watch Odenkirk finally channel that frustration and hostility into the brutally violent action-hero madness of Nobody. That bus fight, man…
This dude was pushing 60 at the time. And I think they’re talking about a sequel? Amazing. I don’t know what possesses these aging stars to keep driving themselves harder and harder physically with each passing year — Bob, Keanu, Tom, Brad — while everybody else their age is melting into the couch. But I sure am glad they do. Their exhaustion and lower back pain is our entertainment.
So we know Odenkirk can kick ass. We know he can give us an even better show than Breaking Bad. And we know he can look death right in the eye and give it the finger. He’s just too pissed off to die.
Now he’s exploring new, more subtle flavors of rage on Lucky Hank, which just premiered on AMC:
Odenkirk plays William Henry Devereaux, Jr., a failed novelist and English professor at a fictional college in a small midwestern1 town, who’s overshadowed by his famous-but-estranged father2 and unhappy with his lot in life. Hank has a nice house, a beautiful wife, a bright, attractive kid, and all the other stuff we associate with success in America, yet he trudges into work every day like he’s headed to the gallows.
If that sounds like a drag, it’s not. This show is really, really funny. It’s a different style of humor than I’ve seen Odenkirk do before, but he nails it.
It’s definitely not Better Call Saul. If I had to compare it to anything, it would be AMC’s Lodge 49, which was cancelled after two seasons. (I’ll never forgive the network.) This show doesn’t really have the same tone, but it’s got a similar ensemble cast and a strong sense of the absurd. Like Lodge 49, it’s a character study of a lost soul trying to make his way in the world, surrounded by amiable lunatics. And maybe one or two who aren’t so amiable.
The show is so tough to describe that the marketing materials actually poke fun at its indefinability:
Yeah, you kinda gotta watch it.
I don’t think it’ll be for everybody, though. If you’re expecting Better Thank Hank or something… no. There’s no gunplay, no drug deals, no quirky but terrifying criminals. None of the stuff that most people probably think Odenkirk should do exclusively for the rest of his life.
Speaking as an English major at a small college — long, long ago — I got combat flashbacks the whole hour. I didn’t have any professors exactly like this guy, but that air of thwarted despair is very familiar. To paraphrase disgraced filmmaker Woody Allen: Those who can’t do, teach. Those who can’t teach, teach college students.
There’s a lot I haven’t even touched on. A couple of the supporting cast members are remarkable. But I don’t want to spoil anything. If you like Bob Odenkirk, you’ll understand why he wanted to do this show.
Which won’t mean anything if nobody watches after this week. I’m predicting one season, a fan campaign to bring it back on a streaming service, and maybe a table read for charity in 10 years. This show is really good, but it gives off “Brilliant But Cancelled” vibes.
GODDAMMIT!!!
Happy Monday, and thanks for reading.
I’m glad I took that pause last week. (Probably should’ve made it longer, but I had a lot to say today about Lucky Hank.) Without getting into specifics, the Gutfeld! gig is going well so far and I’m learning a lot. Plus, now I know not to ever, ever, ever, ever put Splenda in Greg’s coffee.
As for what this newsletter is going to look like now… I have no idea. I’m getting a better idea of what’s expected of me at my other job, and I’m still putting together a plan for how to do both on a regular basis. It’s starting to take shape in my mind, but I’m still a little fuzzy on the details.
I do know two things: I won’t be publishing here every day, and it won’t always be about political crap. Like today, I just wanted to talk about a new TV show I really like.3
If neither of those changes are to your liking and you want to cancel your subscription, I probably don’t have any hard feelings. Mazel tov, and don’t let the door hit ya where Xenu split ya.
Alright, then. Until next time, dear reader! Probably not tomorrow, but pretty soon. I mean, who knows what any of us will be doing tomorrow?
At least I think “Railton College” is supposed to be in the midwest? I know the show is based on a Richard Russo novel, but I’ve never read it and the pilot seems to keep the locale purposely vague. I grew up a block away from Wabash College in Crawfordsville, IN, and it’s a lot like that. Except Wabash is all dudes. Total sausage fest.
William Henry Devereaux, Sr. is some sort of world-renowned literary critic whose retirement makes the front page of the NYT’s Arts & Leisure section. And that announcement sends Hank Jr. into a tailspin, because his dad abandoned him when he was a child and they haven’t spoken in 15 years. Sort of like Frank Sinatra’s relationship with his youngest son.
Well, you just got done reading the whole thing, didn’t you? You’re reading this now, aren’t you? Stop whining.
Ha! My husband went to Wabash.
Yes, I read all the way through the 3rd footnote. And I will happily read whatever you write!