Solar Opposites

This series is loaded with hilarious one-liners, which are often filled with off-color colloquialisms, and controversial subject matter.

Solar Opposites is weird enough in its own unique way to separate it from all the other animated comedies out there, and its anarchic vibe might be just the ridiculous distraction you’re looking for right now.

There's stuff to like even in those early episodes, whether it's the glee of the untethered swearing and violence or an eclectic list of references that go as broad as the frequent chiding of Hulu and as weirdly specific as nods to Green Room or eXistenZ. It's the second half that points to Solar Opposites becoming a show I want to watch completely on its own merits and not just as a parallel attraction to Rick and Morty.

It’s telling that “Solar Opposites,” even in its first season of eight episodes, instantly feels like a full world, and one that's genuinely very funny without trying too hard.

It’s not necessarily the next culture-shattering title that Rick and Morty has managed to become, but when the cast, writing, and animation is this good, it doesn’t need to be.

Solar Opposites is winningly small-scale in its stand-alone episodic ambitions. Burning through plot at a voracious pace, each installment can be enjoyed on its own madcap merits.

Solar Opposites is best at its loosest. Roiland’s semi-improvisational style returns on occasion, with the opening credits having a slightly different voiceover every episode. His ramshackle, half-assed delivery is almost always funny, and the show’s concept and storylines are usually so undercooked that it makes Roiland’s off-the-cuff material even more impressive.

“Solar Opposites” proves to be more about leaning into slapstick abandon than finding anything particularly revelatory to say beyond the fact that humans are pretty weird and annoying (which, well, is fair enough).