10. “The Characters”
Even among a pretty mixed bag of shows, “The Characters” feels like the strange red-headed stepchild. An low-budget anthology show (but directed by a single helmer, Andrew Gaynord) that gives eight comics, mostly unknown to wider audiences (there’s one ex-SNL performer in Tim Robinson, while “Orange Is The New Black” actress Lauren Lapkus and “Broad City” actor/writer Paul W. Downs get eps too), the showcase to pull off a sort of sketch/character comedy showcase, with each having a slightly different tone and style. It’s probably the least bingeable show that Netflix have, one best served by dipping in to every so often rather than consuming at once. And, as you might imagine, it’s hit and miss. In brief: Lapkus’ episode is unremarkable though formally ambitious, John Early’s has some terrifically detailed character work and very funny writing, Henry Zebrowski’s is deeply obnoxious and the worst of the bunch, Kate Berlant’s surprisingly niche in its look at the art world and a bit distant as a result, Natasha Rothwell’s easily the best, Downs’ a little disappointing given his “Broad City” credentials, Robinson’s weird and genuinely hilarious, suggesting SNL missed a trick by sticking him in the writers’ room, and Edinburgh Comedy Award-winner Dr. Brown an ambitious “Birdman” homage that feels a bit gimmicky and doesn’t play to its star’s physical comedy strengths. Of course, being comedy, your mileage may vary. So, while the show won’t make you happy all the time, it’s rather pleasing that it exists at all: a sign that Netflix isn’t just a home for revivals and big-name creators, but also a place for experimentation and risks.
9. ”Chelsea Does…”
It probably won’t surprise you to learn that your mileage on this Chelsea Handler-produced documentary series, starring Chelsea Handler who over four episodes examines four areas of life particularly of interest to Chelsea Handler, may vary, depending on how you feel about Chelsea Handler. But if you’re even marginally open to her brand of abrasive, take-no-prisoners-especially-not-myself exploration, and if you are interested in the topic she’s singlemindedly focussed on during each show (Marriage, Silicon Valley, Racism and Drugs respectively), her fearlessness is a boon for a documentarian. Sure, many of the insights she uncovers are into her own psychology, but it’s fun to watch her have them nonetheless and if sometimes she out of her depth (“Some white chick wants to talk about race…great” says Aasif Mandvi) she usually has the self-awareness at least to acknowledge it. She’s also quite spectacularly willing to be her own test subject, most dramatically during the drugs episode — from smoking Willie Nelson‘s own-brand weed with him to playing Twister after 10mgs of Ambien and a pitcher of cocktails to travelling to Peru to sample ayahuasca, Handler is very willing to back up her unabashedly pro-drug stance in stubbornly practical fashion. Formally, the doc is very well put together too, with calm, intimate, inventive camerawork giving a you-are-there feel to interviews with boffins and family members and celebrity guests alike, to staged dinner parties and travelogue sections. In fact, while the show is unlikely to attract non-fans, the few who stumble across it by accident may find themselves warming to Handler, in spite (or maybe because) of her confrontational interview style and uncompromisingly DGAF attitude.
8. ”House of Cards”
However long it runs for, and however variable it is from season to season, it’s hard to see a time when “House of Cards” won’t rank relatively high on a list like this, if only as a kind of legacy nod: with it, Netflix set out to revolutionize the TV landscape and they did. Their first major, homegrown success, and the first show to incorporate the concept of binge-watching, already familiar to devotees of DVD box sets and DVR back episodes, into the DNA of its broadcast model, it’s hard to remember now, but “House of Cards” was a gamble. Yet even those of us who’ve been a little disenchanted with it subsequently remember the shock of the new in the David Fincher-directed opener, when Kevin Spacey‘s now-iconic Frank Underwood looked up from that dead dog and spoke to camera. So to a large extent, we live in the TV world that ‘Cards’ creator Beau Willimon (who has stepped down as showrunner) built. That said, its four seasons weren’t consistent — the sinuous twists and turns became progressively more ludicrous after season 1. And when Frank, the ultimate backstage maneuverer (and newly-minted murderer) becomes President at the end of season 2 it seems like the demarcation line between the series’ story as initially envisaged (based on the BBC show of the same name) and the show success dictated it must turn into — even producer Rick Cleveland initially believed it would end after season 2. But hearteningly, after a wobbly season 3, season 4 mostly reasserted the show’s perversely elegant hold on political TV drama by refocusing on its best elements: the career-best performances from Spacey and Robin Wright and the slippery, teflon-coated, high-stakes relationship between Frank and Claire, two equally alpha power predators.
7. “With Bob & David”
Some of Netflix’s biggest splashes have come from reviving other people’s shows — “Arrested Development,” “The Killing,” “Longmire.” “With Bob & David” doesn’t quite count as that — it’s an entirely original series with no ties to anything else. And yet it’s also essentially a follow-up, given that it reunites the lead actors (and most of the supporting cast) of HBO’s “Mr. Show With Bob And David,” the beloved sketch show that showcased the talents of David Cross and Bob Odenkirk. The actors have gone on to bigger things over the years — Cross a reliable comic scene-stealer, Odenkirk showing surprising recent dramatic range with “Breaking Bad” and “Better Call Saul” — but from the first of the four-episode run (plus a behind-the-scenes documentary that’s arguably better than the show itself), they feel firmly at home with a decidedly “Mr. Show”-ish absurdity to the sketches. The format has changed a little, but the spirit remains intact, whether in sketches involving a revisionist version of “Roots,” time travel, or best of all, a “Heaven Is For Real” parody involving an adorable child who claims to have seen Hitler in the afterlife. Cross and Odenkirk have only grown in performing confidence over time (the latter especially), and sweetly, almost every one of their old friends, including the likes of Jay Johnston, Brian Posehn, Tom Kenny, Jill Talley, Paul F. Tompkins and Dino Stamatopoulos, gets a moment in the spotlight. It’s not the most accessible thing Netflix have ever done: with just four hours, it feels rather minor, and the target audience is almost exclusively hardcore comedy nerds — people who’ve listened to every “Comedy Bang Bang” episode twice and can repeat not just “Mr. Show” sketches, but their scripts that never made it to the air. But it’s still a consistently funny couple of hours that, we hope, is just the start for the duo’s return to sketch comedy.
6. “Jessica Jones”
There was always a question around the Marvel Netflix shows — given that they were always planned to interlink, would they be of a uniform style and quality, as with the DC “Arrow” and “Flash” shows (and, one could argue, the MCU movies), or would they stand distinct from one another? The answer was somewhere in between: “Jessica Jones” shares some of both the strengths and the weaknesses of “Daredevil,” but it’s also a series with its own distinct point of view, and on the merits of its first season, one that elevates it above its stablemate. Based on Brian Michael Bendis’ comic “Alias,” and showrun by “Twilight” screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg, the show stars the terrific Krysten Ritter (finally getting a vehicle worthy of her talents) as the titular character, a one-time superpowered crimefighter who’s now a hard-drinking, guilt-ridden private investigator. It’s a premise built for fun case-of-the-week stuff, but admirably the show’s avoided the easy route so far, becoming a fascinating study of guilt and trauma, due to Jessica’s backstory with the villainous Kilgrave (David Tennant), a spoiled, entitled man-child who unfortunately has mind-control powers, and used them to force terrible acts on Jessica. It means that, while the show does suffer from some of the same issues as “Daredevil” — sluggish, over-extended plotting, and a overly sadistic approach to its violent — the show has a cumulative metaphorical power that makes it the most substantial and powerful Marvel-related project to date. The acting’s been far more consistent than in “Daredevil” too: Ritter and Tennant dominate, but Rachael Taylor, Erin Moriarty, Carrie-Anne Moss and Mike Colter (whose Luke Cage bodes well for his own series, coming in the fall) all doing stellar work. Bring on Season Two.
