“The Gentleman” and the Murder of a Comedy

The infuriating decision to transition “The Gentleman” from a competent comedy to an attempt at seriousness is a crime against storytelling. Its first season is a classic comedic set-up of the relatable thrusted unto ridiculousness, and the straight man’s lack of character is encouraged to throw the rogue’s gallery of nutjobs into relief. The unsubtle callbacks to serious stories is forgiven because it’s a parody. However, when you take these things away, you do not get a similarly good, albeit serious, story. You get “The Office” staring only Pam.

Without the brilliance of Guy Richie’s madhouse characters, most notably the screwup older brother, Edward’s flatness becomes jarring. The situational comedies he found himself in are now just situations, as ridiculous as before but delivered in minor key. The Michael Corleone act, the dead body in the senator’s (sorry, peer’s) bed, the blown-up Italian wife, the sniveling treachery of the anemic older brother, and the casting of Giancarlo Esposito as a high-class meth dealer do not beg comparison, they enforce it. Again, fine when a parody. But the attempt to be taken seriously relegates these choices to shameless pilfering. I’m just mad I watched the whole thing thinking I’d get more time with coked-up Fredo and his zealot-preacher sponsor.

Maybe there is a layer of irony I’m not appreciating, but don’t expect me not to be happy if Mike Meyers puts on his shagadelic uniform and tries to play George Smiley.