We’ve just finished watching the second season of Californication. In the words of Hank Moody, the lead character (and so many like him in the series), this show if fucked up.
I’m on record as saying — perhaps the first to notice — that the program is the Male Answer to Sex and the City, that highly entertaining show centered around four women who, for 6 years, had trouble getting, keeping, and enjoying men. Hank Moody doesn’t have that problem. He’s pretty much died and gone to heaven.
Problems? Yes. Women trouble? Oh, yeah. Angst? Nnnnnnn-Not really.
As vile as this show can be — the guy’s a child; his “wife” is a dysfunctional; their daughter is basically the adult AND parent in the family; their friends are in a constant-party world of liquor, drugs, sex; their enemies are in a constant-party world of liquor, drugs, sex – this show has cultural relevancy. For starters, it shows where the state of television entertainment has risen to (although “risen” is merely a term I use for advancement in potential, freedom, avante-guard quality). This show gives life as some people live it, but also as many people (men) want it to be. That’s entertainment, folks!
Secondly, by having Hank be a writer, there is a glue that binds the absurd to the literary, the artist, the “normal” state of life within all the L.A. craziness. Frankly, if just 10% of what happens in this series is truth of California life, its no wonder the city is a magnet for all forms of creatures looking to score big at the big party we like to call LIFE.
Thirdly, the show is fun adult entertainment, and nothing should be taken away from it that one can think is real. That’s what we want from entertainment: the complete lack of connection to reality; an escape; a footnote to the day.
If you think Californication is over the top in its crassness (and it is often wayyyyy crass), then please just read the title again. That’s justification alone for what takes place for 28 mins.