Kevin Can Wait

Kevin Can Wait is neither as bad as you may have feared nor as good as you may have hoped. It’s squarely and innocuously in the middle.

The larger issue here is that James and Hayes are pretty much all Kevin has.

Kevin Can Wait is the most ordinary of dumb-dad sitcoms. James, though, is so winning I wouldn't blame anyone for wanting to hang with him.

Predictability ensues, of course, but that’s why people tune in to James. ... There is acceptable, if not quite credible, chemistry between James and Hayes, the laugh track is annoying but expected, Spreitler is also what you’d expect her to be, and the only tiny pinprick of creativity can be seen in the character of Chale and Cartwright’s performance.

Kevin Can Wait is basically Kevin James 101.

Based on the pilot, Kevin Can Wait is a serviceably funny show that works best if the audience already accepts Kevin’s worldview.

There’s still room for a modest comedy of this sort on CBS, but even in its limited ambitions, the premiere stumbles on undercooked dialogue and the garbled perspective of its protagonist.

This is a throwback to mediocrities like “Still Standing” that gave us chubby hubbies acting like big kids and pretty wives who have to boss them around.

For all its straightforward sincerity, James can’t provide anything new with his new show.

It feels less like a show of its own than a collection of hoary TV tropes--Schlumpy Guy With a Hot Wife, Wimpy Son-in-Law, Hypochondriac Kid--strung together in service of the pun in the title.

There's nothing even slightly new or original about Kevin Can Wait. It's comedy-by-the-numbers aimed at a broad, undiscerning audience.

No, it’s not exactly the same show that he did before, but it’s exactly the same show that you’ve seen before.

Kevin Can Wait kicks off the official first week of the fall TV season and simultaneously takes the biggest possible step backward, looking like a sitcom that belongs in the fall 1997 lineup.

A multi-cam comedy with a laugh track, stale jokes, and a healthy dose of sexism (women are either prostitutes or princesses, naturally).

All of this unfolds with complete and utter predictability amid a “Take my wife, please” collection of broad, flat, dated jokes delivered with a sledge hammer’s touch by Kevin and his coarse, chub-a-lub pals.