Usually brevity in TV is a gift. There are always exceptions, but in a time of streaming inflating, other screen experiences and TV reduced to contentClocking a narrow operation time is an early indicator of efficiency, trust or (somewhat reverse) ambition. “State cheese” Is another type of exception – a deviation not because it thrives when he blows past his adopted section lengths, but because it is so condensed it is hardly even there.
Although the 43-minute premiere is the longest episode of its 10-part first season, “Government Cheese” does not know what to do with the little time it has, and the series’ speechlessness becomes clearer with every mercy-fleeting entry. When the last two episodes roll around, it is as if Med-Showrunners Paul Hunter and Aeysha Carr have given up their own show. There is no hook to attract the viewers back for a potential season 2, no revelation to go to, no big laugh to get.
Instead, “state cheese” on quirk (and some superficial religious references) relies on covering their lack of depth and humor. Sat in 1969, “Comedy” series picks up with Hampton Chambers (played by David Oyelowowhich is also an executive producer) who is struggling to pass in prison. So his cellmate, Rudy (Adam Beach), recommends that he find something to believe, otherwise this place will “swallow” Hampton and he will never return to his family.
Cut to: Hampton Reading from Jonas Bok, part of the Old Testament perhaps best known for the titular Prophet starvation by a choice. For starters, Hampton cannot get in touch with the teachings. He throws the book aside and complains that God is too “ruthless” and “just stays damn with man.” But the prison pastor (or librarian, it is honestly unclear) tells him a story and takes him back to the script. “God always leads us from the misery of humanity,” he says. “And if you don’t follow his path, God will fuck you.”
This pre-Titles sequence sets up a story where Hampton, now a man of faith, will be tested by Yahweh (he chooses the Hebrew name because “it feels less formal”) while trying to work his way back to his family. And he has his work cut out for him. After a fateful prison riot, Hampton’s three -year penalty is to write fraudulent checks up, and he returns home to meet his wife, Astoria (Simone Missick), and two sons, Einstein (Evan Ellison) and Harrison (Di’allo Winston).
The house, just like the crackled family as it represents, has seen better days. The refrigerator is broken. The stove too. As Astoria tells Hampton, it may be faster to list all things that still work, but which does not deter her practical hubby. Not only does he promise to fix things around the house, he has a plan to fix their general accidents – and both require the same tool: the sorcerer of the bit. During his time in the Big House, who worked as a mechanic, Hampton noticed how many drilling they spent and how much time was lost and replaced them. So he designed a self -cutting drill, an invention that he credits Yahweh and believes will earn millions.
Drilling, to Hampton’s credit, works just as he promised, but having the right tools is not all it takes to do it in America. Hampton has debts to pay (to a shady family by French-Canadian Mobsters), friends to support (Bootsy, a villain “Snatch-and-Grab” Hustler) and his own passions to strive for. Although there is a case that must be made that Hampton’s difficulties are a matter of circumstances, “state cheese” is surprisingly uninterested in income equality or institutionalized racism. The show name checks its title in a scene where the family looks at Hampton building their drill. Astoria remembers how his mother used to make “the best sandwiches” with just “state cheese and white bread.” “All the processed dirt is probably what made him a criminal,” says Harrison. “(That’s) probably what made him inventive,” counters of Astoria.
Why not both? As the series progresses, Hampton is not framed as a black man who is thrown aside by a large society or a poor man whose only chance in good life requires some bad behavior. It sees him as a man who has made his own choices, and his choice has landed him exactly where they should. Faith will guide him, although fate often adapts in an absurd way.
Except that the absurdities are not so fun or surprising. “Government cheese” is the kind of comedy you can watch, start ending, without laughing once. Instead of jokes, there are features. Moments of Farce are unbalanced, with some that act as stupid, somewhat surreal meetings and others that extend into the kingdom of impossibility. Still, the show remains frustratingly shy, especially with regard to its characters.
Hampton can be sincere in his desires and offbeat in their execution (Oyelowo may have a lot of fun), but he is a pretty basic anti -hero in the heart. He is lying to his family. He manipulates his family. He puts his family in danger, and he does all these things because he wants to get rich, respected and live the American dream. Despite his mature scientific mind and emerging religious principles, he is a fraud in the heart, and all spiritually significant frogs and imaginary mysterious helpers cannot hide the fact that Hampton fits a conventional form. He is just another stupid guy who makes bad decisions of his own interest, while considering himself to think that he is doing it for a bigger good.
Try to deepen the rest of the role sludge in similar predictable walls. Einstein is called Einstein, so he is obviously the strangest of gang. He is brilliant because he was dropped on his head as a child, but rather than accepting offers to Harvard or Stanford, he wants to go to college to join the Polilling team. He is also completely devoted to his father, unlike Harrison, whose hatred of the father who abandoned them is one of two traits: the other is that he is interested in a domestic tribe called Chumash, so he wears a wide, flat -brimmed hat with a spring stuck in the back.
Astoria gets the most time to develop and the least curiosity to do so. There is a whole section dedicated to the long-suffering housewife who dreams of true autonomy, but instead of letting her express herself through her own interests, the section defines her by who she is not-alias, a servil housewife whose sole purpose is to please her husband. Whether it is with surprising guests or weed -induced hallucinations, the section makes the same score over and over again, and it does not help that the score was already made in previous sections. We get it. Astoria is not your typical 60’s housewife. But I have no idea who she is otherwise. (Also unhelpful: A particularly shock decision near the end of the season, which accidentally throws her as either uncharacteristically fraudulent or uncharacteristically fraudulent.)
“Government Cheese” fits tight enough among Apple’s second highness period. Astoria could slip into “Lessons in chemistry.” Einstein, who works part -time as a lifeguard, might as well bake under the same sun as Kristen Wiig in “Palm Royale.” The appearance, captured by Matthew J. Lloyd (who has also worked with “Fargo,” A much more successful mix of anti -heroes and quirk), has the same clean, surreal shine as “Hello tomorrow!” But what “government cheese” really needs is a heavy dose of ambition found in the first and best attempts of the streams on the sub -genre, “For all of humanity.” Without it, it is hardly recorded at all.
Rating: C-
“Government Cheese” premieres on Wednesday April 16 on Apple TV+ with four episodes. New episodes are released every week until Wednesday, May 28.
