Shrinking (Apple TV+)
Harrison Ford says he continues to work at 82 because it provides him with “essential human contact.” But if that means acting in comedies like Shrinking, he’d be better off joining a bowling club.
Shrinking is everything horrible about American comedies. It’s laborious and unoriginal, the characters are stereotypes, the sets are obviously fake, and the dialogue is up to its elbows in maudlin.
Ford plays a grumpy psychotherapist with Parkinson’s disease, who counsels a middle-aged colleague named Jimmy (Jason Segel), whose wife was killed by a drunk driver.
If that doesn’t sound like a ton of laughs, wait until you meet his client, Jimmy’s housemate Sean (Luke Tennie), a former soldier with anger management issues and PTSD.
Still not laughing? Try this line, delivered in Ford’s best gravelly murmur: “Every time Sean feels dysregulated, he seeks outside help.”
The psychotherapy setup should be fun. The best American sitcom ever made centered on two psychiatrists: Kelsey Grammer’s Frasier (the version with David Hyde Pierce, not the lumpen sequel with Nicholas Lyndhurst)
Shrinking is everything horrible about American comedies. It’s plodding, the characters are stereotypes, the settings are patently false, and the dialogue is elbow-deep in mawkishness.
To give Sean “tools” to help him with that dysregulated feeling (I think my gas boiler had something similar), Ford teaches him “desire inversion” therapy: he has to imagine what he fears most and “move toward it.” pain”.
Not only is that unfunny, it’s terrible advice. Naturally, it works out wonderfully for Sean: he has an epiphany, stops racking himself with guilt, and finds the courage to tell his employer that he doesn’t want to be interviewed on his friend’s podcast. What a lump in the throat moment, huh?
Earlier this month, Ford told Vanity Fair: “As far as I’m concerned, everything I’ve done is comedy.” It’s true that, like Han Solo and Indiana Jones, he delivered some of the best movie jokes since the heyday of Humphrey Bogart. But jokes need clever writing, and that’s what Shringing lacks in abundance.
It’s doubly frustrating, since the psychotherapy system should be fun. The best American comedy ever made centered on two psychiatrists: Kelsey Grammer’s Frasier (the version with David Hyde Pierce, not the Lumpen sequel with Nicholas Lyndhurst).
And mob boss Tony’s tense confession sessions with his therapist on The Sopranos infused that masterful crime drama with a touch of dark comedy. Contraction fails to offer any of that. Instead, it’s a hodgepodge of crude sexual jokes, drab domestic scenes, and psychoslang.
Characters often appear unexpectedly, causing others to overreact, although this does not appear to be a running joke, but simply a cheap and repetitive device to generate “humor”.
It’s a hodgepodge of crude sexual jokes, droning domestic scenes and psychoslang.
Characters often appear unexpectedly, causing others to overreact, although this does not appear to be a running joke.
Jimmy and his neighbor Derek move or jump on the spot, like all the fathers in tired American sitcoms. His teenage children, all played by actors clearly in their twenties, serve no purpose other than to be understanding and wise beyond their years.
And, naturally, there’s a gay best friend: his name is Brian (Michael Urie) and he’s also friends with Jimmy’s neighbors. Why can’t they have their own gay best friend? I can’t imagine they are in short supply in California.
It’s hard to guess what Harrison Ford finds so funny about Shrinking. But you might have been laughing to yourself ever since your agent told you what Apple was willing to pay.
