How to Make It in America

Even without the Hollywood glamour, though, the New York series may turn out to be the superior product, grounded as it is in Mr. Greenberg's compelling, layered character, with a strong mind and vulnerable heart.

Everyone in "How to Make It" isn't a winner. But the show looks to be just that.

Creator Ian Edelman keeps his characters on the right side of caricature and avoids the kind of melodramatic confrontations their relations might typically suggest.

With a strong assist from Luis Guzmán as Cam's loan-shark cousin, Make It doesn't have a lotta laughs, but it's got charm and a feel for the atmosphere of downtown art galleries, parties, and business hustling.

"How to Make It in America" is, like "Entourage," more entertaining than actually funny. You're not going to burst out laughing at anything, but there are plenty of comic moments.

The authentic New York locales and voices really make this new half-hour dramedy fly.

While HBO’s new "How to Make It in America" is light on plot, characterization and humor, it’s got atmosphere to spare. And for a few episodes, that may be enough.

The series takes off when secondary characters fill in the blank spots.

I think How to Make It in America has a lot going for it, if show creator Ian Edelman can keep from indulging in New York hipster cliches.

while I can't say that it's a great HBO comedy yet--it is not, really, even strictly a comedy in the ha-ha-hilarious sense--it's likeable and absorbing and made me want to stick around for more.

As a portrait of struggling Manhattanites, How to Make It effectively hones in on that hope-filled effervescence historically associated with the idealized American dream.

I've seen the first four and, although each was more compelling than the last, the series contains a repellent amount of hipitude, which distracts from its tale.

How To Make It delivers a conventional story with uncommon panache. It’s fun, especially for guys, but it’s aiming for boutique liquor and only tastes like high-end latte.

There isn't much of a story, though. The best thing is the terrific song in the opening credits: Aloe Blacc's "I Need a Dollar." It has the sort of itchy desperation that should have driven the whole show.

How to Make It in America grows more interesting in episodes after the pilot as Ben's world expands and connections among the characters form. But to get that far viewers may need to be: a) Living Ben's lifestyle, b) Remembering their immature years fondly or, c) Have a high tolerance for slackers whose ambition outpaces their drive and/or intellect.

There are flashes of light--Rene (Luis Guzman), the ex-con Our Heroes go into debt with is a menacing delight with his own delusions of grandeur, and Cam's frenetic, audacious ambition blasts the plodding story line along in most unexpected ways. But Ben, sans direction or real ambition, is a black hole in every scene and fails in convincing the audience that he knows what he wants for dinner, much less out of life.

Like "Entourage," whose laughs often are found in its secondary characters, "How to Make It in America" boasts some irresistible ones, including ....Martha Plimpton as Edie, the very funny interior-designer boss of Ben's ex-girlfriend Rachel (Lake Bell). Indeed, Plimpton has a speech in Episode 3 that kind of made me wish the whole series was about her. Instead of, well, about two twentysomething guys who so far seem unlikely to make it anywhere, including HBO.

The show isn’t as self-important and whiny as Hung, or as precious and smug as Bored to Death, or as repulsive as Eastbound and Down (to name a few of HBO’s recent comedy misfires, all of which were renewed). Sadly, this one’s just a bit threadbare.

Created by Ian Edelman, none of these threads really add up to much. And while there's a serialized arc to the storytelling, after four episodes it's still difficult to identify what the principal hook is supposed to be.

This one has an “Entourage” pedigree (Mark Wahlberg is a producer) and is technically billed as a comedy, though it has neither the witty banter nor satisfying ending of one.

If this were a show about creative passion, then maybe Ben and Cam would be a little more interesting than the glossy professional yuppies on every other channel, straining to make that promotion and bag that babe. Unfortunately, as Ben and Cam demonstrate, more often than not the desire to "make it" is exactly as vague and empty as those two words imply.

Rather than art re-creating and explicating reality, How to is art mimicking reality shows, with all their annoyances and posing.