Catch-22 (2019)

Hulu’s version — written and created by Luke Davies and David Michôd and shepherded by executive producer George Clooney and others — strips “Catch-22” down to its essential brilliance and then builds it back up into a sweeping, beautifully filmed, humorous yet tragic tale of a young man forever changed by war.

With vivid unsettling and graphically dark whimsy, executive producers George Clooney and Grant Heslov adapt this classic in a new six-hour miniseries that sharply captures the appropriately cynical tone of broad satire, interrupted by the sheer terror of airborne combat. [13-26 May 2019, p.10]

Hulu’s Catch-22 is considerably more linear than Heller’s original novel, but not in a way that sacrifices the anti-bureaucracy-and antistupidity-message. As panic stricken bombardier John Yossarian, Christopher Abbott successfully takes on a role that was thoroughly owned by Alan Arkin. He’s convincing, equally so in dramatic and comedic moments (and there are plenty of both). ... At risk of overusing the word “Zeitgeist,” Catch-22 is a meaningful, enduring example of it.

Some of the comedy will remind you of “MASH,” but Heller’s novel actually came first. It’s not easy to balance a whip-smart farce about military bureaucracy with deadly serious wartime issues, but “Catch-22” does just that.

Catch-22 is tautly structured, rarely wasting a second as it rapidly cuts away from scenes mid-conversation or mid-word, zigzagging between satirical depictions of war’s inanity—best exemplified by the upper command’s idiocy—and sublime visions of its horror. The series invites our laughter, contemplation, and shock in equal measure.

Clooney’s adaptation is immediately impressive – visually deserving of a bigger than a laptop screen – with a cohesive, arid palette and shots ranging wildly in scope from resonant closeup to sweeping landscape. But it takes a couple of episodes to settle into the show’s polarizing rhythm, which is less a film-making issue than the high-level entry to the source material’s cunning conceit.

To its credit, Catch-22 doesn't harp on the parallels between Heller's era and today. In 2019, satire means trusting your audience to know that deranged leadership springs eternal. [27 May 2019, p.55]

Without Clooney stealing all the sunlight Chandler’s forceful performance deserves some Emmy notice. But the lack of effectively written and delivered humor in “Catch-22” downgrades it from a flawless flight to merely a very good one. The adaptation misses a few of Heller’s main targets, but hits enough of the notes to make it a worthy undertaking.

While the pared-down plot of Catch-22 means the series almost never drags (a rarity for a streaming show), the flip side is that some supporting characters lose their significance. ... Still, in its final episodes, Catch-22 finds its emotional core, as well as its best moments of tragicomedy.

It’s a fine piece of work that stands solidly on its own as a collection of intertwined set pieces that build chronologically to an emotionally devastating climax.

Surprisingly effective miniseries. ... Even if you haven't read the book or can't quite recall all the participants, it comes back to you, but it's still a challenge to differentiate everyone. Some fans will no doubt wish certain characters had bigger roles or might have minor irritations over how things were condensed, but overall the pacing is strong and the inclusion thorough.

Clooney and company have tried their utmost to navigate the swervy Catch-22. It may well be the last such effort. And they fare better than the movie did without fully sticking the landing. Then again, who could? Bronze stars to all.

When “Catch-22” takes to the skies, it soars. The aerial sequences are some of the best visuals seen in any TV production, beautiful and terrifying.

Set in a life-or-death environment, themes of integrity, greed, justice and irony are all over this series. It’s an unusual combination, but they blend well, making “Catch-22” a great viewing experience. Initially, Yoyo is a hard character to support. ... It’s not until episode three that he can be viewed as a sympathetic character.

Hulu’s Catch-22 is a largely faithful adaptation that preserves a substantial amount Heller’s brilliantly elliptical prose. Abbott brings a disarming vulnerability to his performance as the pragmatically selfish Yossarian, while David Daniel Stewart is a lively standout as the fast-talking mess hall magnate Milo Minderbinder.

“Catch-22” isn’t quite wild enough to join TV’s elite satires or sharp enough to leave a mark as lasting as its source material. But it has its moments, and those moments add up to an entrancing experience.

Six hours may be an hour too many given the repetitive nature of the plot (the required mission count rises, then rises again and again) but star Christopher Abbott makes for a likeable, relatable Yossarian. It’s sometimes difficult to tell the supporting flyers apart but as the episodes unroll their personalities come through a bit more.

The adaptation is often rote and merely serviceable. Some scenes are inspired in their brutality, but this “Catch-22” seems, incongruously, to want to inspire its audience.

Though there are some appallingly comical notes, the Hulu “Catch-22” is more affecting than the movie, because it doesn’t stoop to easy cynicism. At times, it recalls the TV version of “M*A*S*H,” though “Catch-22” ultimately feels more sad and mournful than humorous, despite moments of skillful caricature.

It works better as a TV show than you might think, though not well enough to quell the feeling that we have yet to see an adaptation as scathing as the source material. It’s at its best in lyrical moments, showing, say, a group of handsome young men haloed in golden light as they goof around on a Mediterranean shore, or a spray of blood spattering a bomber’s cockpit, or a tight close-up of a man’s eyes as sanity deserts him.

The new series works better than it should. It elides some of the worst of the novel’s degradation of women, streamlines as best it can the most verbose of the vignettes and builds out Yossarian — played by Christopher Abbott in a performance that announces the leading-man arrival of a long-simmering talent — into a character whose angst we feel. Yet the series, in thrall to and in the shadow of one of the most sharply written novels of its era, never finds a way to live on its own.

Good (and good-looking) production, but without contemporary relevance, urgency or edge.

Lots of people will like Catch-22, especially those who thought the book was impossible to do well on screen. In the end it left me cold. Six hours is a long time without sympathy.

A production that's intriguing but ultimately as thin as it is handsome, and emotionally removed in a way that dilutes the larger impact. For those reasons and perhaps others, unlike its conflicted hero, Catch-22 never quite takes off.

For a series that gradually loses its sharpness in its commentary on power and masculinity in wartime, Abbott’s performance constantly reminds you of what's so great about Heller’s book, but also what is timeless in making a dark comedy about war.

Of the sprawling cast, only a handful of actors even consistently seem to be aware that they’re in a comedy (albeit a very dark one). ... The songs, even the ballads, have rhythm and forward momentum that Catch-22 consistently lacks. The humor stumbles when it should swing.

Catch-22 is actually a more interesting, engaging show when it meanders, just kinda living dreamily among the odd cast of characters that populate the base around Yossarian.

Some bright spots aside—moments of inspired physical comedy from the erstwhile Dr. Doug Ross; a properly crackling translation of the promotion and closed-door policy of the fortunately named Major Major Major (Lewis Pullman)—settle instead for a tone that’s less about the maddening pointlessness of war and more about its bloody horrors, complete with mournful instrumental score.

A conventional, mostly laugh-free war story whose dominant notes are nostalgia, sentimentality and a resigned chagrin.

There are some admirable things in the series, some of which reflect the source material, and some of which work on their own terms, but generally speaking, the better you know the book, the more likely you are to yell at the screen, in the later episodes especially. Where it strikes off on its own, whether in dialogue or wholly new scenes, it tends to get obvious and flat.

Scenes between actors are often funny and rich. And then the picture wanders off to find another human encounter, leaving dead air in its wake. ... While the performances can be both comic and moving, the actors are mostly playing types—there’s a sense of Central Casting to the characterizations, which may be the intent of directors Clooney, Heslov and Kuras, or their writers.

The Nichols film still gleams with the diamond-hard fury of the book and echoes with its mad laughter. The tepid Hulu series has neither. Next to the movie, the Hulu series looks like a pallid corpse drained by a vampire.