I finally saw “Californication” on Showtime thanks to their free weekend hippie promo deal, and all I can say is “wow!”
Why? Simple. David Duchovny’s character, embittered writer Hank Moody, is the rock star of writers. Sure we’d all love to be super successful, have our novels butchered, but still make residuals, and oh yeah, get to have sex with hot women AND punch out guys who dis our seriously beloved, and so on, but you know.
That ain’t happening.
So “Californication” offers a window into a world that we (and by “we” I mean “dumbass guys in their late 30s who so wish they could be so fucking cool”) really enjoy. It’s a perfect companion to that tiresome, girly show “Weeds” (which induces vomiting despite its charms), and well, it’s just a wonderful show.
Oh, and one of the appeals is the circular humor and logic I’ve not seen since Peter Bagge did “Hate” and “Neat Stuff” back in the day. They start out planting the joke, let you go around the pool a few times, and WHAM! bring it back in such a way you didn’t expect, but should have.
Just watch the show. You’ll like it. Or not. Or at least understand a little more about a guy’s guy, and realize why some of us are just glad the Alan Alda Bullsh*t 70s Sensitive Man Lies are done.
Just watch the show. Ladies, if you’re a fan, feel free to email me.
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