3 out of 5

Created by: Tad Quill

Covers season 1

Angel From Hell: Just smart enough to not be dumb, but frustratingly dragged through a whitewash of “family friendly” programming, casting its lead accordingly but then forgetting to give the note to the rest of the staff.  The result is a show that’s constantly at odds with itself in regard to what kind of funny it wants to be.  Part of the time, this is uncomfortably amusing, and edges toward laugh-out-loud territory when the Jane Lynches and Kevin Pollaks of the world start leaning into the unevenness, but the other time it’s just head-scratchingly stitched together.

The straight-laced / zany buddy comedy is, by no means, a new format, obviously having precedent stretching back to Abbott and Costello.  But the extreme variant of that Angel is trying to play toward has a closer chronological relative in Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23.  The expletive in the title; the blown-out outlandishness of the comedy character; the way each show – 23 with Ritter’s dry cold delivery, Angel with Lynch’s goofy brashness – plays up that same character’s key traits; but whereas B—- had a weird meta element to it with James Van der Beek and a complete willingness to be crass, Angel plays most of its risque bits off as “stuff Jane Lynch says,” gasping and giggling at it behind a corner and then telling a PG joke just to set things back to normal.

The show also cripples itself from the get-go by not committing to its premise: That Amy (Lynch) is Allison’s (Maggie Lawson) guardian angel.  Pitched as a comedy, there’s an obvious question there: Really?  Might she not just be a manipulative kook?  And the show sticks with that at all points, having Allison question it repeatedly (and yet, as per TV machinations, having her allow Amy to stay in her garage), and giving us plenty of scenes that suggest that, indeed, she’s nuts.  This is good joke material, but by fully placing the viewer in the skeptic point of view, it never really allows the show to get going.  You can’t help but ask: Why are we going along with this?  And the answer is clearly: Because it’s on TV.  By shifting the standpoint slightly – by having Allison, at least, believe her, all of the jokes could’ve stayed in, but they would’ve felt a little more wry, the is she / isn’t she question – though it’s admittedly not explicitly answered at any point on the show – more balanced and left fully in the domain of the viewer.  I can think of some possibilities as to why things were kept this way – perhaps the suspicion that god-doubting millennials would prefer it as such – but I think as long as you avoid calling out JC and the Popes and giving then a thumbs up, we audiences are pretty flexible with our in-TV beliefs.

Next up: The cast.  Lynch is endlessly watchably ridiculous, dropping banter a mile-a-minute and overcoming the general tonal hiccups of the show.  Pollack, Allison’s father, seems to recognize the worthwhile setup and is equally amusing as the droll and doubting parent.  Kyle Bornheimer playing Allison’s brother, hits sort of a midway point: His character seems to be the crossover attempt, half-existing between Lynch’s silliness and the family-geared feel of the show.  His dialogue feels more scripted than Jane’s but he keeps up the pace and is well cast as the teddy bear type.  Alas, Lawson is the downfall.  She has the straight-laced look down, but her presentation is way too white bread, coming across like a TV host.  Her comedic timing is fully learned (hit your mark, pause for response) and she never quite seems to be acting on the same plane as the others, mugging and cutesing for the cameras.  In a different version of the show – live audience, or a laugh track – this type of projecting might play better, but as it stands, as this weird mash-up of cringe humor and ABC humor, she sticks out as the largest miscast. Which isn’t great for your main character.

Hours of criticism later…  We’re left with a generally passable half hour of comedy that’s buoyed by Jane Lynch, buoy-required due to the acting-for-a-different-show-Maggie Lawson, and kept sheepishly intriguing by how embarrassingly confused the show is about how friendly or frisky it’s trying to be.