These days we can all really use a laugh—and that’s not much to ask from a sitcom. And certainly how those laughs are pulled from a studio audience and the audience beyond it is what determines a show’s longevity and success. On the surface, Mid-Century Modern seems to have all the ingredients to make exactly that happen. It has a murderers’ row of heavy comedy hitters who consistently bring the funny. Add to that experienced showrunners David Kohan and Max Mutchnick (Will & Grace), a concept that feels like an homage to The Golden Girls, and a crackerjack cast with Broadway pedigree, and you should be laughing even if you are sitting in the rafters. But do all those A+ facets add up to a streaming diamond?
The opening scene was certainly promising: three gay men at the funeral of their best friend George. A historically hilarious sitcom location, a funeral plays with the familiar humanity surrounding loss but also provides maximum opportunities for inappropriate laughs. The next step was to solidify the premise and here’s where Mid-Century Modern begins to reveal its Golden Girls structure. A few predictable jokes later, there was still a kernel of hope the series would hit its stride.
The wealthy Bunny Schneiderman (Nathan Lane)—the Dorothy of the group (missing the bite and cynical delivery of Bea Arthur)—lives in a lavish home in Palm Springs. Then there’s Jerry Frank (Matt Bomer)—our Rose, from a Salt Lake Mormon upbringing instead of the sheltered Swedish community of St. Olaf—and lastly, but certainly not least, Arthur Broussard (Nathan Lee Graham), a spot-on Black Blanche. Arthur is suitably stuck up and hoity toity.
The trio stay the night, and soon enough, spurred by grief and a you-only-live-once attitude brought on by an overwhelming feeling of mortality, Bunny soon asks Arthur and Jerry to move in with him. And that’s only after much back-peddling, many epiphanies, and some much-needed guidance from someone important to Bunny. And who might that be, you ask? You guessed it! His elderly yet spry live-in mother, played by legend Linda Lavin who shows up right when you’re thinking “Hey, you know what this show needs? An actual golden girl!” Cue Sybil Schneiderman. Over the course of eight (out of ten) episodes, Sybil becomes the voice of reason, albeit harsh (she could stand to be harsher, to be honest), and is often the one to lead each episode’s “maudlin minute,” meant to ground the series. It’s a fantastic final turn by Lavin, who passed away in December after filming eight episodes of the series.
What could go wrong with an ode to such an iconic show? Much like Will & Grace, the show is loud, and much like The Golden Girls, the show is bright, and lighthearted. But something is missing. Several things, really. It wants to be smutty and risque, and it is—but not enough and not in a way that avoids being stereotypical. It wants to be earnest and familiar, but it doesn’t do much to earn that familiarity with the audience, despite popular actors and a revolving door of big-name guest stars like Pamela Aldon, Richard Kind, Judd Hirsch, and Rhea Pearlman. It wants to be edgy, because it has swearing galore, and it wants to drop in political and societal concerns, but it seems to be afraid to get a little messy. It also seems to hold back on some promising silliness in exchange for old fashioned age and fat jokes. It shrinks from being more sharp—and accomplishes nothing deeper than a paper cut. By the series’ third musical number, it was clear what was happening: we’re being placated in a uniquely American way. In an awkwardly sanitized way—nostalgia under the guise of progressiveness.
As the ten episodes progressed, it was clear that it wanted to accomplish a kind of potpourri of sitcom classics, too. There’s the swinging kitchen door from countless sitcoms (from Three’s Company to Who’s the Boss), the decadently sprawling living room, and even the large, monogrammed B for Bunny on the wall (a nod to The Mary Tyler Moore Show). They were so busy trying to please every single fan of the situation comedy genre, it feels as if they forgot to make a series for this modern era.
To say it is a disappointment is not exactly fair. There are people who will fall in love with Mid-Century Modern. It will definitely please audience members looking to shut off and let a gentle pie passively make contact with their faces. Fair enough. But knowing the series had such potential to be epic, to be something you’d get excited to talk about with your work bestie while the coffee brews—it’s a frustrating watch overall. Maybe there is still time to get there, but the show may not have enough episodes to turn it around. Especially with how little time streaming series are given these days to find their groove, or even find it but are axed anyway (see GLOW, One Day at a Time, or How I Met You Father, to name another Hulu show that finally figured it out in its second season, only to have its plugged pulled). It may not matter if the audience gives it half a chance. Only time will tell.
Mid-Century Modern begins streaming on Disney+ in Canada this Friday, March 28.
