The Return of Hank Moody… Finally.
Posted on | September 28, 2008 |
He’s back. David Duchovny as the the loveable Fuck Up, Hank Moody. The second season of Californication premiered on Showtime tonight and even if I’d only seen the end credits I would have known that creator Tom Kapinos and his team were still very much on form. Why? Because the episode closed out with Warren Zevon’s great tune, “My Shit’s Fucked Up.” You might not think a song would tell me enough to know the episode was good, but you’d be wrong.
The beauty of this show, for me, is that it doesn’t pander. Or, if it does, it panders to smart people with good taste. Elitist? Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Or as Kirk Lazarus would say: “Just ’cause it’s the theme song, don’t make it not true.” Why do I say it doesn’t pander? The music for starters. The first season brought us vintage Stones, classic Dylan, timeless Doors, as well as Joe Strummer, Tommy Stinson, Elton John and many more. And Zevon. Mr. Bad Example himself, Warren Fuckin’ Zevon. Needless to say, I’m a big fan.
Zevon’s music has appeared now three times in the show as far as I can remember. Him doing his own work twice and a cover version of Reconsider Me, from the instant classic tribute album Enjoy Every Sandwich. (Just thought of a fourth, The Becca did a version of “Don’t Let Us Get Sick.”) Sure, The Stones are big time, as are the Doors, and Dylan is the world’s Greatest Living Artist, so they’re not exactly going out on a limb using their work, right? Wrong. The way it’s used, the context, the song choices, not things you would see in a shitty network show. I’ll only give one example so as not to bore you: Hank telling Becca about the simply amazing album Blood on the Tracks that was one of many of Dylan’s “Comeback” albums. One of many, yes, but it was also the best. Quite possibly the best Dylan album ever. And that is saying something. I defy anyone going through a break up to listen to that album and not feel both lost and found at the same time. As Dylan himself put it in 1975: “A lot of people tell me they enjoy that album. It’s hard for me to relate to that, I mean, people enjoying that kind of pain.” Jaysus Haysoos, I was talkin’ about Californication, here! As Jimmy Kimmel might say: “Tangent!”
What else? The dialogue. In my opinion, Californication is the best written show on television, hands down. The banter/repartee Hank shoots from the hip with is everything I’ve ever wanted to say, but couldn’t or didn’t. Every witty retort that hit me five minutes after some asshole crossed my path, Hank delivers instantly and effortlessly. When I told one of the show’s stars I thought it was the best thing on tv, he was appreciative, but a tad dismissive. Can’t say as I blame him. I had weaseled my way into an empty seat next to him at the bar at my favorite restaurant. Which would have been fine, but there were lots of empty seats on the other side. I saw him through the window and was hoping to strike up a convo with him over a mutual solo dining experience. That cat was on to me from the get-go and didn’t want to have anything to do with the stranger next to him. Finally, at the end of the evening, I dropped my compliment and he was gracious and polite. And quickly gone. Like I said, can’t say as I blame him. Another opportunity missed by The Kid.
The first season finale left me wondering how in the hell they were going to start the second season since they basically wrapped up every story line with a pretty bow at the close of the first season. (As Colin in The Departed might say: “Qui gives a shit. It’s got a fuckin’ bow on it.”) What was the deal with that, Tom? Did you think you might not get a second season? Nonsense. Regardless, they managed it well and we open on Hank and Karen making changes to move their lives forward. (Unlike a show like Entourage wherein the four boys haven’t change one fucking iota in however many years the show’s been on: Vince, still a douchebag with zero charisma-world’s biggest movie star, my ass, Drama, what was once a highly entertaining personality defect has been milked to the point of absurdity, Turtle’s inability to do, well, anything, besides get stoned and try to mooch pussy scraps off his mega star pal, and Eric, well, funny that Eric started out being my least favorite and now is the only one of the guys I kinda like or have any respect for. And yes, I know they aren’t real people. All that aside, Ari still kicks ass and looks like he’s got lots to do this season which is good, and Lloyd is a great side kick for the Greatest Agent of All Time… we can only hope that Rhys Coiro makes a return this season as the insecure, perfectionist writer/director, Billy. Shit, while we’re on the subject, how about Ari gets a new client who looks an awful lot like Vince which causes some concern among the boys? Maybe he’s Mrs. Ari’s cousin or nephew or something? And yes, I’m saying I look a bit like Vincent Chase when I let my hair do it’s thing, which is more often these days. The questions about being a Jonas Brother sting a bit, but at this point, I’ll take what I can get.) Fuck. Cue Kimmel again: Tangent!
And as absurd as Hank’s life is, (let’s face it, it’s not often you go down on a woman at a party and it’s the wrong woman. I’m not saying it’s never happened, just not often), having lived in LA for five years, it’s not nearly as absurd as those of you living outside the City of Angels might think. If you think driving a beat up sports car and being a relatively decent looking guy with a pocket full of confidence won’t get you laid at the drop of a hat in this town, you’re out of your fucking mind.
What else? Writing all this out has made me understand something about this show and about its main character, Hank Fuckin’ Moody: They’re great because neither one of them gives a shit. And that is something I can identify with, although not always personify. This show does lots that shows aren’t supposed to do. It’s about the “biz”, at least a little bit. Takes place in LA. Smart dialogue. Includes references that most republicans simply won’t understand. Fantastic, but occasionally obscure, music. Little things the characters do that provide a picture of a human being, not a jackass actor reading lines… Example: Nobody touches The Becca’s hair. Sounds stupid? It’s not, it’s great fucking writing. Or great character work by the actress. Or a great call by the director, who knows? Who cares? It makes these people real. Little doses of flavor and personality sprinkled throughout, like tonight when The Marse (spelling?) referred to Charlie’s preamture ejaculation problem by calling him an Excitable Boy. That’s Zevon again, one of his classics. Hats off to you Mr. Kapinos, or whoever it is that drops that shit in there. Even if 90% of the audience might not get it, I do and I appreciate it. Good Times.
Actually, Tom, while I’ve got you, how about this: A new character, another NY writer, more “Hank Moody” than Hank himself. Jersey accent, maybe a bit of a Sopranos kinda guy (I’m talkin Imperioli here, not Ganolfini), womanizer, boozer, etc, comes to LA, maybe an old buddy of Hank’s, or, better yet, friends of an old buddy of Hank’s. He wants to hang with the Big Dog, learn how to write, or maybe he’s got some piece of shit best seller that he’s touring with, Charlie’s his agent, but Hank sees him for what he is, which is completely talentless, and, oh shit here it is, not even actually from Jersey, it’s all a scam and Hank calls him out at a reading or something, the dude drops the accent entirely and all hell breaks loose…maybe the book was a tell all about life in the mob and the guy is actually a Connecticut prep school flunkie white boy, son of a Congressman or some shit. Holy shit, someone get Kimmel in here quick. “Major Fucking Tangent.”
So, if you’ve made it this far, you’re probably wondering what the hell my point is. Right? Fine, here it is. Californication is a great show. That’s all. I wish I could say that I wanted to be like Hank Moody, but sadly, for me, I think I might actually be pretty close already. And as Mr. Moody said in, I believe the first episode: I hate myself and my life, and I’m not all that unhappy about it.
I’m pretty sure I’ll be watching next week.
My Shit’s Fucked Up
Well, I went to the doctor
I said, “I’m feeling kind of rough”
“Let me break it to you, son”]
Your shit’s fucked up.”
I said, “my shit’s fucked up?”
Well, I don’t see how-”
He said, “The shit that used to work-
It won’t work now.”
I had a dream
Ah, shucks, oh, well
Now it’s all fucked up
It’s shot to hell
Yeah, yeah, my shit’s fucked up
It has to happen to the best of us
The rich folks suffer like the rest of us
It’ll happen to you
That amazing grace
Sort of passed you by
You wake up every day
And you start to cry
Yeah, you want to die
But you just can’t quit
Let me break it on down:
It’s the fucked up shit
-Warren Zevon