Big Time in Hollywood, FL

Credit Anfanger and Jacobson with quickly establishing a connection as the clueless brothers with big cinematic dreams. And, of course, credit Comedy Central with keeping up its streak.

Deceptively loose and shambling, Big Time is one of those shows--like the show it follows, Workaholics--that’s going to quickly attract a cult following. Get in on it now.

It’s not as sharp and lovable as “Broad City”; Abbi and Ilana, take a bow for an inspired second season of your New York picaresque. But it’s likable, over-the-top, culturally aware, and totally far-out, man. It’s the definition of a madcap adventure.

An infectiously energetic, wonderfully silly serialized comedy that feels like a mashup of the Three Stooges and Quentin Tarantino.

A wonderfully absurd, 10-episode serialized mini-epic about two self-absorbed brothers in suburban Florida whose filmmaking ambitions take a sudden turn into a dark, hilariously violent misadventure.

Based on the pilot (and Next Time On Lonny), Anfanger and Schimpf have surprise down--now they just have to string their surprises together.

There are moments when Big Time in Hollywood, FL is very funny, indeed, and enough of them to form a bread crumb trail through the forest. But the forest can be pretty tough going when the trouble with your show lies with the leads. Jack and Ben are, of course, nowhere near as talented and fascinating as they think they are; that's part of the joke. Unfortunately, it's also true in the larger sense--the man-child slacker-artiste character is overfamiliar and trite, and neither Anfanger nor Jacobson knows how to transcend this.

This series boasts some reasonably high production values, certainly for Comedy Central, with lots of energy, and a sense that it knows where it's going and how to get there. But the tone is so relentlessly mean-spirited, the guys so unlikable, their predicament so pathetic that Big Time deflates before your very eyes.