AMC wants to kill the classic American sitcom.
In a sense, they already did. The hallowed golden era of late aughts and early 2010s prestige television drama owes many thanks to the network that brought us Breaking Bad and Mad Men. At the same time — organically, not via murder — the multi-camera sitcom that dominated so many years of American television began to fade away. The shows that remain are time capsules, trying arduously to either preserve a bygone sense of humor, or fight against it.
AMC's latest, Kevin Can F**k Himself, is part sitcom — and damn good at it. Half the show is filmed with multiple cameras and a laugh track, focused on the world of Kevin (Eric Peterson) and his man-child shenanigans. But the bulk of the show is a chilling primetime drama, complete with drugs, murder fantasies, and at least one dead body as of episode 4. This is the real story of Kevin Can F**k Himself, the seething catharsis of Kevin's long suffering wife Allison (Annie Murphy) and her quest to reclaim the life he stole from her.
And so: Kevin Can F**k Himself is the explicit revenge of the sitcom wife against her husband, his world, and the sitcom medium itself. Most men on the show are two-dimensional at best, all half-baked schemes and ham-fisted punch lines — a glaring indictment of countless female characters boiled down to wife, girlfriend, or otherwise hapless participant in the man's world. Even the physical gags are deliberate. In Kevin's show, his wife always bears the brunt of a beer bong or spoonful of chili, while Allison repeatedly causes accidental physical harm to men who misconceive her.
Episode 1 ends with a juicy cliffhanger and mission statement, but the next few meander along some predictable paths while getting Allison back to her new vision of the future. But Allison and Patty’s (Mary Hollis Inboden) begrudging camaraderie, as well as an old flame who works at the local diner, keep us pushing through. Even Kevin’s cheesy sitcom plots are as compelling as they can be, including a feud with the neighbors and attempt to design an escape room.
Kevin Can F**k Himself is a a dark comedy in the most literal sense, splicing sitcom laughs with true AMC drama, down to the color palette — but that juxtaposition redefines this hybrid genre. As an audience member, you can’t resist chortling along with a laugh track, out of habit or brain chemistry or both. This makes the comedown to Allison’s private world even rougher. You can feel the ache of regret and resentment in Murphy's every minor facial movement, as compelling and in command of the character as she was on Schitt's Creek. She slips into Allison with ease (accent and all), creating a living, breathing, irresistible character who we can't tear our eyes away from.
The show may be about sitcoms and Kevin, but it's no stretch to see how it applies to generations of men who live life as the star of their own TV show. "The world revolves around him, and if it doesn't, he blows it up," she says. Kevin's harmless goof persona proves toxic, robbing Allison of everything that gives her joy — including, finally, her hope. After years of picturing a future in which the good times were just out-of-reach, the fantasy cracks like glass in her hands. The new future, revolving around Allison, is far more interesting.
The first two episodes of Kevin Can F**k Himself are now streaming on AMC , with new episodes weekly. All episodes will air one week later on AMC.
