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| Scene from Dave (2020) |
Welcome to a new column called Channel Surfing, in which I sporadically look at current TV shows and talk about them. These are not ones that I care to write weekly recaps for and are instead reflections either on the episode, the series, or particular moments. This will hopefully help to share personal opinions as well as discover entertainment on the outer pantheon that I feel is well worth checking out, or in some cases, shows that are weird enough to talk about, but should never be seen.
There is something to be said for the way that FX runs its channel. Over the past decade, they have stood out in the cable landscape as the channel with some of the most acclaimed, diverse work. Then again, any channel that can keep reinventing the miniseries with Ryan Murphy-produced series, and provide some of comedy's most ambitious work with Atlanta and Better Things, there's a clear track record to be had. Not since AMC has one channel been so ubiquitous as a source of quality, making one wonder what every year's Freshman series will contain. This week alone, FX is planning to go into even more interesting directions with the Alex Garland-penned series Devs and their latest comedy, which finds them pulling one of YouTube's most popular stars to create a comedic look at his own life.
For the most part, Lil Dicky's reputation is on par with The Rapping Granny from generations before. His whole gimmick is that he's a white rapper who lacks charisma and celebrates such ideas as (ahem) having a small penis. It's a satirical performance and one that has garnered him an unexpected amount of attention from professional musicians. For a man who revels in a milquetoast persona, he sure knows how to stretch a lowbrow joke while getting dozens of celebrities to cameo in his work. Anyone who has seen his conservationist song "We Love Our Planet" will know this pretty well. The only question is if a guy who makes money off of embracing mediocrity deserves to be handed the ropes to a TV show on one of the best networks around.
The answer is a bit muddled. Dave feels like a show more geared towards the 10 PM hour on Comedy Central. Their model is a lot looser, allowing for filthier humor and premises that are far more absurd. This can be recently seen in Awkwafina is Nora from Queens and its marijuana-laced humor. On FX, Dave feels like the odd man out, even if that's kind of what he goes for. He doesn't want to feel like he's part of the mainstream, being an underdog in need of cultural acceptance. It's confusing if he will actually get it as the episode travels back and forth between him being a respectable YouTube star with songs like "My Dick Sucks" and not being taken seriously for any reason. It's true that this is the plight of an average YouTube star, who for the most part haven't transcended the mainstream. In this respect, the divide makes sense, though they never allow Lil Dicky to be comfortable in either world.
If one wants to know what type of show this will be, they simply need to watch the opening. It is the introductory scene to whatever great vision that Lil Dicky wants to give. As the theme song, played throughout marketing, would suggest this is a chance to know Lil Dicky by his "government name," which is Dave Burd. It's a chance to get a personal look into a story he thinks is important to share. That story is how his genitals are some type of deformed mess as he discovers that the red bumps on bis pelvis are razor bumps. It's an elaborate sequence lacking subtlety that shows what Burd is going to be obsessed about. By the end, he's known more for his shortcomings than any personal gift. He even gets conned by rapper YG (the first of many guest stars on this series) who refuse to work with him and exploits his nonsense for Instagram views.
There could be pathos in this show, but Lil Dicky nor the Dave story feels like it's going anywhere. This is far from the first comedic take of a musician on TV. Even on FX, they have explored Donald Glover's strange world on Atlanta. Even then, it's an expansion of his idea that fits the serialized form of TV. For Dave, it's a chance to tell juvenile jokes for a half-hour with occasional moments of brilliance. It should be noted that some of the self-effacing humor lands, but this is the type of series that would resonate more in 2006 than in 2020. The idea of a lame white rapper trying to be taken seriously is something that has long gone out of fashion. To see a white guy get emasculated in a recording studio by hardcore gangsters is nowhere near as fresh or funny as Dave thinks it is. The only real benefit is that Lil Dicky knows deep down how farcical this premise is, and it's easier to go for self-defeating blows than attacking his peers. This isn't to say that Burd lacks talent, but he's clearly manipulating things to make him seem like an underdog when he's capable of being recognized by random people on the street.
The show is neither a trainwreck nor a triumph of TV. If Lil Dicky chooses to spend its time satirizing the underdog music biz story with gross-out humor, then so be it. He knows his audience and they have given him enough fame to get here. However, he's far from being charismatic enough to make his lack of charisma on screen charming. Everything about the show has a familiarity that makes it just another lame sitcom. Any jokes that don't involve body parts often feature him awkwardly recounting observations about his Jewishness, or how he seems a bit insecure around black people. That's the joke. There's nothing deeper than that, and even his desire to look cool among either group never goes anywhere. He's just an odd guy looking for acceptance and not getting it.
There is a marketing savvy to Burd's character and there are ideas that could work. After all, he did start his career as an advertising executive. He has an understanding of social media that makes his commentary on the divide between Lil Dicky and Dave have potential. The only issue is that he doesn't have enough nuance to give it something new and exciting. This doesn't expand on the mythology of Lil Dicky, sympathizing with him within the confines of pseudo-fiction. All that's here is a wacky story full of dirty jokes that can grow tiresome. As far as FX shows go, this is one that feels more like it's trying to get a new audience to start watching the network than continue an impeccable track record. It's a fine show, but there's nothing lasting about what it achieves by the end.
For the most part, Lil Dicky's reputation is on par with The Rapping Granny from generations before. His whole gimmick is that he's a white rapper who lacks charisma and celebrates such ideas as (ahem) having a small penis. It's a satirical performance and one that has garnered him an unexpected amount of attention from professional musicians. For a man who revels in a milquetoast persona, he sure knows how to stretch a lowbrow joke while getting dozens of celebrities to cameo in his work. Anyone who has seen his conservationist song "We Love Our Planet" will know this pretty well. The only question is if a guy who makes money off of embracing mediocrity deserves to be handed the ropes to a TV show on one of the best networks around.
The answer is a bit muddled. Dave feels like a show more geared towards the 10 PM hour on Comedy Central. Their model is a lot looser, allowing for filthier humor and premises that are far more absurd. This can be recently seen in Awkwafina is Nora from Queens and its marijuana-laced humor. On FX, Dave feels like the odd man out, even if that's kind of what he goes for. He doesn't want to feel like he's part of the mainstream, being an underdog in need of cultural acceptance. It's confusing if he will actually get it as the episode travels back and forth between him being a respectable YouTube star with songs like "My Dick Sucks" and not being taken seriously for any reason. It's true that this is the plight of an average YouTube star, who for the most part haven't transcended the mainstream. In this respect, the divide makes sense, though they never allow Lil Dicky to be comfortable in either world.
If one wants to know what type of show this will be, they simply need to watch the opening. It is the introductory scene to whatever great vision that Lil Dicky wants to give. As the theme song, played throughout marketing, would suggest this is a chance to know Lil Dicky by his "government name," which is Dave Burd. It's a chance to get a personal look into a story he thinks is important to share. That story is how his genitals are some type of deformed mess as he discovers that the red bumps on bis pelvis are razor bumps. It's an elaborate sequence lacking subtlety that shows what Burd is going to be obsessed about. By the end, he's known more for his shortcomings than any personal gift. He even gets conned by rapper YG (the first of many guest stars on this series) who refuse to work with him and exploits his nonsense for Instagram views.
There could be pathos in this show, but Lil Dicky nor the Dave story feels like it's going anywhere. This is far from the first comedic take of a musician on TV. Even on FX, they have explored Donald Glover's strange world on Atlanta. Even then, it's an expansion of his idea that fits the serialized form of TV. For Dave, it's a chance to tell juvenile jokes for a half-hour with occasional moments of brilliance. It should be noted that some of the self-effacing humor lands, but this is the type of series that would resonate more in 2006 than in 2020. The idea of a lame white rapper trying to be taken seriously is something that has long gone out of fashion. To see a white guy get emasculated in a recording studio by hardcore gangsters is nowhere near as fresh or funny as Dave thinks it is. The only real benefit is that Lil Dicky knows deep down how farcical this premise is, and it's easier to go for self-defeating blows than attacking his peers. This isn't to say that Burd lacks talent, but he's clearly manipulating things to make him seem like an underdog when he's capable of being recognized by random people on the street.
The show is neither a trainwreck nor a triumph of TV. If Lil Dicky chooses to spend its time satirizing the underdog music biz story with gross-out humor, then so be it. He knows his audience and they have given him enough fame to get here. However, he's far from being charismatic enough to make his lack of charisma on screen charming. Everything about the show has a familiarity that makes it just another lame sitcom. Any jokes that don't involve body parts often feature him awkwardly recounting observations about his Jewishness, or how he seems a bit insecure around black people. That's the joke. There's nothing deeper than that, and even his desire to look cool among either group never goes anywhere. He's just an odd guy looking for acceptance and not getting it.
There is a marketing savvy to Burd's character and there are ideas that could work. After all, he did start his career as an advertising executive. He has an understanding of social media that makes his commentary on the divide between Lil Dicky and Dave have potential. The only issue is that he doesn't have enough nuance to give it something new and exciting. This doesn't expand on the mythology of Lil Dicky, sympathizing with him within the confines of pseudo-fiction. All that's here is a wacky story full of dirty jokes that can grow tiresome. As far as FX shows go, this is one that feels more like it's trying to get a new audience to start watching the network than continue an impeccable track record. It's a fine show, but there's nothing lasting about what it achieves by the end.
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