Hacks Isn’t a Good Comedy

As a seasoned critic with a penchant for dissecting complex narratives, I find myself both enthralled and exasperated by the latest season of Hacks. On one hand, Jean Smart’s riveting portrayal of Deborah Vance is nothing short of masterful. Her ability to embody the complexities of a woman navigating the treacherous waters of comedy while grappling with her past is truly commendable. However, the narrative itself seems to be stuck in a rut, veering between the superficial and the profound without finding a comfortable balance.

The article was released on June 6, 2024.

After three seasons, “Hacks”, a comedy series revolving around the bond between a stand-up comedian reminiscent of Joan Rivers and a young writer, has become a regular Emmy contender. The program is frequently discussed with great enthusiasm – Thursday evenings on the platform previously known as Twitter are flooded with people expressing their excitement over the show’s witty take on Hollywood satire. It’s often referred to in terms of prestige television. Recently, “The Atlantic” praised it as a series that “breaks the ‘Mid TV’ curse”. (It should be noted that there’s nothing wrong with ‘Mid TV’, naturally.) This is an unusual accolade for a comedy… or at least for a show that most viewers generally perceive as a comedy.

I’ve never found the show “Hacks” particularly amusing. Although humor can be subjective and my lack of laughter might suggest a humor deficiency, the jokes haven’t stood out to me as the series’ strong point. While some viewers appreciate the rapid-fire wit comparable to “30 Rock,” I find its humor more akin to conventional sitcoms like “Everybody Loves Raymond.” It’s broad, it’s acceptable, and it serves as a comfortable backdrop for the real purpose of a sitcom, which is to provide a comforting embrace by immersing you in a world you’ve grown fond of. This sitcom feel is evident in the show’s traditional structure. In essence, “Hacks” consistently returns to its original state.

I’ve always been captivated by the depth Hacks explores in the complex bond between Ava and Deborah. It’s a fascinating interplay of mentor and protégé, mother and daughter, and two halves complementing each other to form a complete whole. However, their relationship is set against a backdrop of an unhealthy workplace dynamic: Deborah is Ava’s abusive boss, while Ava appears to be emotionally bound to her through Stockholm Syndrome. At its best, Hacks skillfully mines the dramatic potential of this duo, but the third season demonstrates the constraints when you’re a drama masquerading as a sitcom. What makes it even more disappointing is that the show now seems content with its current state and no longer challenges its premise or central relationship in an engaging way.

In the current season, there are moments of growth in the relationship between Ava and Deborah. This often involves Deborah enlisting Ava’s help for her new endeavor, hosting a late-night show. The fifth episode, “One Day,” shows Deborah trying to lift Ava’s spirits after a breakup by taking her on a hike. However, they get lost in the woods, creating tension for the plot. Yet, there’s a tender quality to these scenes, with Deborah acting as a nurturing figure for Ava who seems adrift. Deborah consoles Ava by sharing her perspective on life, emphasizing that time is both longer and shorter than we think it is. In essence, she says, “If I want to do something, I have to do it now or else I’ll never do it.” The opposite of this sentiment occurs in the season finale, “Bulletproof,” where a heated argument between the two takes place after Ava discovers that Deborah has chosen a more established writer for the head-writer position instead of taking a chance on Ava. For Ava, who has given up a romantic relationship and another writing opportunity for Deborah, this decision feels like a deep betrayal, not just professionally. “I prioritize you because I care about you,” she says, “And I can’t believe you won’t do the same for me.

In this series, it poses its strongest queries: What significance lies in someone’s unwillingness to evolve? How does one cope when deeply deceived by a guide who was once cherished? However, Hacks has shown reluctance to fully explore these possibilities, instead frequently reverting to a rehashed version of its original structure. The climax of season two, where Deborah fires Ava to protect her career, yet later rehires her as creative partner in season three, loses impact when compared to the initial event. Similarly, at the end of “Bulletproof,” Ava returns to extort Deborah into granting her the head-writer position. On paper, this ending is intense, but in practice, it feels overly convenient and repetitive. The balance of power between them has subtly changed, yet the essence remains largely unaltered. In many ways, we’re back to where we started: a complex work relationship akin to a twisted marriage and a strained pseudo-parental bond. Once more, the opportunity to delve deeper into betrayal is forsaken in favor of starting anew.

In Hacks, there’s an apparent unwillingness to criticize or challenge Deborah, even when it comes to her character development. The show consistently supports her perspective, giving her the most victorious quips and sparing her from being the butt of jokes like Ava often is. This consistent backing is becoming increasingly exasperating. In “Yes, And,” during season three’s second-last episode, Deborah returns to her alma mater, Berkeley, only to face student protests after clips of her older, potentially racist material are shared on TikTok. This controversy could potentially derail her bid for a late-night hosting job. Reminiscent of many comedians in similar predicaments, Deborah maintains that one should never apologize for a joke. She defends herself by stating that everyone else was telling those jokes during that era, and as a woman navigating a sexist industry, she had no other choice. However, Ava challenges this perspective, asserting that while Deborah’s past actions may have been justified, everyone is entitled to react as they wish in the present moment.

Before anything substantially challenging unfolds, the predicament unexpectedly resolves itself without much friction. The narrative reaches its climax as Deborah participates in a listening session, where she listens to a series of students voicing their pain over her previous work. This segment is brief and instead of delving into Deborah’s distress, the episode swiftly returns to her at home, where she discovers she will still be getting the late-night gig. The sequence of events in Hacks feels like a sudden jolt. Deborah never confronts or reflects upon her experiences at Berkeley, and instead, the show avoids delving into her feelings about her past. Things seem to work out too effortlessly for Deborah, who ultimately achieves her goal – a hosting job, personal growth, and moral superiority. However, none of the events that befall her appear to have any significant impact.

The uneven tone of this season is evident in its character development. While past episodes of “Hacks” have effectively balanced Deborah’s story with that of other characters, this time around, the focus seems heavily skewed towards Deborah. Marcus, a key figure in Deborah’s business, is largely marginalized this season, and his departure from her operation, symbolizing his personal and professional limitations under Deborah, lacks significant interaction with Deborah herself. The return of Deborah’s sister, Kathy, portrayed by J. Smith-Cameron (replacing Linda Purl), seems inadequately developed despite being crucial to Deborah’s emotional journey. Her significance to Deborah’s past and future requires more exploration. Meanwhile, a significant portion of the season is devoted to the escapades of Jimmy and Kayla, Deborah’s agent and his assistant-turned-business partner, which feel disconnected from the main narrative, resembling a different show altogether, such as “The Other Two,” but with less sharpness and impact.

In terms of genre, the comedy series Hacks can be compared to shows like Entourage and Ballers, given their shared luxurious backdrop, low-stakes portrayal of show business, and effortless character movements. However, unlike these shows, Hacks aspires to delve into deeper themes, such as the essence of comedy, show business, “Middle America,” queer fandom, aging, and cross-generational relationships. The cinematography by director of photography Adam Bricker also leans towards a somber tone that contrasts with the glossy onscreen glamour. The series often pauses to juxtapose Deborah’s vibrant life against the harsh reality of aging, as seen in scenes where she appears without her wig and during the physical examination scene in “Yes, And,” which highlights her defiant dignity in the face of natural decay. Loneliness at the top is a recurring motif in Hacks, making it both the series’ most striking visual and its primary concern. Jean Smart’s stellar performance serves as a double-edged sword, simultaneously strengthening the show and masking its flaws.

The humor in “Hacks” has started to hinder its full dramatic impact. Despite numerous aspects of the series deserving praise, such as the dynamic between Ava and Deborah, or the exploration of an older female comedian overcoming years of setbacks while confronting her past mistakes, the show seems stuck in a loop. With Max recently greenlighting a fourth season, perhaps “Hacks” will break free from this pattern and fully realize its emotional depth.

2024-09-16 07:54

Hacks Isn’t a Good Comedy

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