Mid-Century Modern: A new gloss can’t hide old sitcom tropes

Photo: Hulu

The current state of the multi-cam sitcom is in sorry shape. This has been true for most of my adult life. It looks to all as though this classic form of comedy is going the way of the variety show or Saturday morning cartoons. There are, however, a brave few trying to bring some relevance to an increasingly outdated format. As a blogger in the year 2025, I can relate even if I don’t have half the level of influence as someone like James Burrows. Burrows is the legendary director of some of the greatest sitcoms ever made. Shows like The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Taxi, and Cheers among others. His latest show is unlikely to end up on that eclectic list.

Created by Max Mutchnick and David Kohen, the minds behind Will & Grace (another Burrows project). Mid-Century Modern is a mix of that show and Golden Girls. The girls in question are Nathan Lane, Matt Bomer, and Nathan Lee Graham as Bunny, Jerry, and Arthur, respectively. After the unexpected death of their friend, the three decide to live together under one roof. And because this is a sitcom, Bunny’s mother (the late Linda Lavin) is also there. It’s a standard sitcom premise that the show spends most of the pilot attempting to justify.

The stories in each episode are also typical stuff. The only difference between Mid-Century Modern and an older show seems to be an understanding of what a “bottom” is. That type of “risque” humor is a prevalent part of Modern’s joke book. In fact, the writing is pretty frank in its discussion of queer romance and aging. It’s a welcome surprise and something that helps lift the more staid elements of the program.

The cast mainly features our 4 leads, with a few appearances from the likes of Pamela Adlon and Richard Kind, among others. It’s a fun group of actors but they’re mostly stuck playing cliched sitcom roles. Lane comes the closest to making Bunny feel like a real person, but his personality shifts with the whims of the plot. The show ends up falling into a familiar comedy trap where the characters seem to only exist for delivering jokes.

This isn’t to say Mid-Century Modern is an all-around bad time. It’s a throwback, but one with an eye toward the contemporary moment. The reliance on old sitcom tropes and character types isn’t exclusive to this show. It’s pretty much all you get with multi-cam sitcoms. Nobody is breaking the mold here, especially not an old master like James Burrows. In a less crowded landscape, it’s easy to see Mid-Century Modern becoming a hit. It’s light, breezy, and carried by some all-time great comic actors. As it currently stands, there are better options out there for your time.

Mid-Century Modern is currently streaming on Hulu.

Final Verdict: Tune Out

Pulse: There’s no cure for this one

Photo: Netflix

How much is too much for a medical drama? This is a genre that already allows a frankly obscene amount of information to fly at the viewer in a matter of minutes, and thanks to the hectic nature of the profession, we allow it. Now, medical jargon and witty banter aren’t enough. What if we add a natural disaster, a mysterious sexual harassment claim, and copious flashbacks to the equation? If you’re already feeling dizzy, you’re gonna want to sit down because that’s only a part of what Netflix’s Pulse offers.

The streamer’s first foray into English-language medical drama comes out of the gate full of ideas and does not stop until you’ve heard every single one of them. The series follows the lives of the doctors, surgeons, and other medical personnel at Maguire Hospital, a level-one trauma center in Miami. At the center of our story is Danielle “Danny” Simms (Willa Fitzgerald), a resident who is on track to make chief. She’s a Meredith Grey-type, headstrong and determined to be the best. She even has her own McDreamy in Xander Phillips (Colin Woodell), the current chief resident. There’s just one slight problem: she recently filed a sexual harassment claim against him.

Pulse hits us with this information immediately and lets it sit there for much of the first episode. The show’s first handful of episodes deal with a hurricane that has knocked out power all throughout the city. As a trauma center, the hospital commits to staying open during the storm. The goal is to up the stakes, but this just adds to the narrative chaos. There’s a reason most medical shows save a big event like this for the finale. It’s hard to establish your characters while also dealing with a natural disaster. Then, there’s the curious case of the show’s flashbacks.

Ideally, the flashbacks would serve to further develop our characters, showing us their dynamics before the harassment claim and contrasting it with the present. Instead, Pulse uses these moments to build up the mystery of what went on between Danny and Xander. It’s an odd choice for a season-long arc. The flashbacks also cut into the present day action, all but eliminating any tension from a scene.

Your enjoyment of this series is likely going to correlate with how much personal drama you can stand. In the overstuffed world of Pulse, a character’s private life always takes precedent over the patient. Better still for that patient to reflect the character’s problem back at them. It’s a model of medical drama that had its heyday in the mid-00s. Nearly 20 years on, it can’t help but feel a little stale. Pulse tries to have it both ways, offering new takes on old material but failing both versions. The results are a bad combo: overwhelming and unambitious in equal measure.

Pulse is currently streaming on Netflix.

Final Verdict: Tune Out

The Studio: This Hollywood satire is one of the year’s funniest new shows

Photo: Apple TV+

There’s arguably never been a better time to skewer Hollywood than these last few years. And plenty of shows have taken on the challenge. From BoJack Horseman all the way to last year’s The Franchise, we’ve seen plenty of takes on the world of show business. Now, Seth Rogen steps up to the plate with his own send-up on the city of stars.

The Studio might lack some of the sharp edges you’ll find in other showbiz satires, but it makes up for it with style. Rogen and frequent collaborator Evan Goldberg clearly have a love for the industry even as they take it to task. The series follows Matt Remick (Rogen) who becomes the new head of the fictional Continental Studios. Remick is an idealist who wants to focus on creating the best movies possible in an industry less concerned with that by the year. That Sisyphean task is at the heart of The Studio and it anchors the comedy. Remick means well, but he usually makes a mess of things.

Rogen is the best he’s been in years here. He plays Remick as a man at odds with himself. He loves movies, but fears that his new job ruins them. Supporting him is a cast of some of the finest comedic performers around. Ike Barinholtz finds a perfect vehicle for his unpredictable comic energy as Matt’s co-worker and close friend, Sal. Chase Sui Wonders is the least known of the main cast, but does terrific work as Matt’s assistant, Quinn.

Every comic ensemble needs a wild card and here we have two with Kathryn Hahn and Catherine O’Hara. Hahn play Maya, the head of marketing, and brings her full chaotic gifts to bear. O’Hara is a bit more relaxed as Patty, the former studio head and Matt’s mentor. The show waits well into its double-sized first episode for O’Hara to appear, but she immediately takes over the scene and never lets go.

If there’s anything holding this cast back, it’s the show’s reliance on guest stars and tributes to film. The show uses both to tremendous effect, but it often feels at odds with the characters. It’s hard to find time for character work when you’ve got to add a bit with Steve Buschemi or work in a few Goodfellas references. No matter how killer the bit, it still stings a little. Ultimately, these are minor flaws in a program that is too busy moving to the next joke to worry about any of it.

The Studio keeps a frantic pace that makes you feel as in over your head as Matt. The direction plays its part by keeping the camera and characters in constant motion. Rogen and Goldberg handle the directing on every episode and keep finding new ways to showcase their love of filmmaking. This is a show that opens with a long take inspired by The Player and devotes an entire episode as homage to the neo-noir. The duo makes this all feel fun rather than self-serving by embracing the stupidity of the events. They’re not interested in being clever, they just want you to revel in the chaos.

The Studio might not be the most biting satire, but it isn’t exactly a full-blown love letter either. The series is more than willing to take the industry to task for its lack of support to creatives, the focus on IP over everything, and countless other issues. That it can do that while also paying tribute to cinema is part of the charm. Cinephiles will appreciate this show, but it’s not for them alone. There’s enough here for comedy fans of every stripe to enjoy. That’s all part of the movie magic.

The Studio is currently streaming on Apple TV+. New episodes release on Wednesdays.

Final Verdict: Tune In

Good American Family: Aims for prestige but settles for Lifetime

Photo: Hulu

I’m something of a true crime skeptic. I understand the appeal and I’ve enjoyed a series or two before, but I find the majority of them off-putting. This goes double for any adaptations of true crime stories. Too often these series devolve into a retelling of events propped up by casting a few name actors. With Good American Family, I’ll give them credit for attempting to break the mold. That very faint praise is about all I can muster.

Inspired by the true story of Natalia Grace, Good American Family gives her the Lifetime treatment. Kristine and Michael Barnett (Ellen Pompeo and Mark Duplass) adopt Grace (Imogen Faith Reed), finally fulfilling their dream of having a daughter. Their dream quickly turns into a nightmare once they suspect Natalia isn’t who she seems. Or is it the parents who aren’t what they seem?

This is the central question of Good American Family, but if you’re watching the series as it releases, you won’t even realize it. The show’s first 4 episodes show us the situation from the perspective of the Barnetts, particularly Kristine. Only in the show’s second half does the audience learn about the actual events and the parents’ callousness. It’s an odd way to frame a story of very real child abuse, but one that maybe would have worked if the series released all at once. The rare example of a show that actually benefits from the binge release model.

It doesn’t help that, except for Reed, everyone is putting in minimum effort here. Ellen Pompeo tries to expand audiences’ perception of her as the self-centered Kristine. It’s hard not to just see an evil version of Meredith Grey. The show’s first half adopts her paranoid feelings about Natalia, but it only serves to detract from her performance. Mark Duplass plays her bumbling husband Michael like he’s in a different, funnier show. Imogen Faith Reed is the sole bright spot as Natalia and even then, she’s relegated to playing her like a horror villain for the first half.

Good American Family attempts to subvert viewer’s expectations by putting us into the viewpoint of these, negligent at best, parents. It could be an interesting idea. In reality, it makes the show feel more exploitative than if they stuck to a straight retelling of the events. There’s a real chance that many viewers unfamiliar with this case will watch an episode or two and come away with the opinion that the Barnetts were in some way justified. That’s a failure for all involved. If you must watch this series, just this once, wait for the full story.

Good American Family is currently streaming on Hulu. New episodes release on Wednesdays.

Final Verdict: Tune Out

Adolescence: Netflix’s latest miniseries is harrowing and stunningly acted

Photo: Netflix

We open with a police raid. More accurately, we open with two officers bantering right before the raid. They’re tasked with apprehending a 13-year-old (Owen Cooper) who we’ll soon learn is a suspect in a grisly murder investigation. For the next hour, the camera will stay focused on this moment in time. The characters we follow might change, but the scene never does.

That’s the central idea behind Adolescence, a gripping crime drama from Jack Thorne and Stephen Graham. Each episode focuses on a distinct moment in the case of Jamie Miller, the aforementioned 13-year-old, through one continuous take. The directing technique has earned a lot of press, but the show’s true strength comes in the layers it slowly reveals. This is a far cry from your standard crime series.

Adolescence’s 4 episodes are dense and full of character moments, both big and small. The show’s pace is an achievement in itself. It packs a lot into each hour and the fact that it never loses sight of the people swept up in all of this is one of the program’s many strengths. The serious subject matter could lead the show into more maudlin territory, but Thorne and Graham’s carefully crafted scripts keep it on track. It helps that the show refuses simple answers and consistently finds new ways to subvert viewer’s expectations.

Writing alone doesn’t make a show special. Thankfully, Adolescence is full of captivating performances. Graham pulls double duty as Jamie’s dad, Eddie. He is the emotional glue that binds the series together. There is a raw emotional energy to everything he does that makes you immediately feel the grief and pain of his situation. Ashley Walters takes the spotlight in episode 2 as DI Bascombe, the lead detective on Jaime’s case. His ability to project an air of confidence that slowly falters throughout the episode helps ground the proceedings. Erin Doherty appears in the show’s most harrowing episode as a forensic psychologist. The moments between her and first-timer Owen Cooper are electric and some of the tensest in a series full of suspense.

Director Phillip Barantini takes what could easily be a gimmick and creates something truly special. Unlike 1917 or Daredevil’s hallway fight scenes, the filmmakers shot Adolescence in one take, rather than editing it to look that way. It’s a technical distinction, but one that adds so much to the craft of this series. Barantini proves to be as impeccable with his construction as the writers and actors. The camera glides between characters and perspectives with no fuss. That it doesn’t call attention to itself is a plus. The directing is just another element for ratcheting up the inherent drama of this story.

Adolescence can be a hard series to watch, but it’s a necessary one. The show delivers its timely message with such care that you can’t look away. Heart-breaking performances and a thought-provoking story help to elevate this to one of the year’s best. Even the show’s biggest flaw, it’s lack of focus on the victim of this crime, is part of the overall message. This is a rare treat: a TV show that sticks with you long after it’s finished.

Adolescence is currently streaming on Netflix.

Final Verdict: Tune In