HBO’s “Hacks”—“Edge without edge"? I couldn’t hack it

In my ceaseless search for antidotes to the ennui of entropy and the entropy of ennui, I recently lit on HBO’s Hacks, a “dramedy” of sorts relating the adventures of seen it all burnout Joan Rivers-style stand-up Deborah Vance (Jean Smart) and her “edgy”, seen it all, burnout millennial sidekick/gag writer Ava Daniels (Hannah Einbinder). The set-up—aging “star” whose career has been running on denial since the Bush administration hooks up with a wise-cracking twenty-something whose edge is sharper than the razorblades she’s often tempted to use on her wrists—isn’t exactly fresh, but so what? There are only about three plots in the world and I’m quite willing to be manipulated if—if I laugh. Besides, I haven’t had any real exposure to “kids” since the late, lamented Pretty Little Liars (2010-2017), which, after all, was network! And this is HBO! It’s definitely time to catch up!

As it turns out, I’m pretty late coming to Hacks, which recently wrapped, as they say, its third season. But, anyway, I started with Season One, Episode One, which begins a bit predictably, with Debs killin’ it before a packed Vegas house with her self-deprecating, “why can’t I find a man with tits smaller than mine?” shtick before, of course, being pulled in by the club manager to be told that, well, they’ve been wanting to bring in “new talent”, so they’ll be cutting back on her bookings, though, of course, “you’ll always have a home here!” Sure! That’s what they told Marie Antoinette, right before the guillotine!

Beaten and bedraggled, Debs heads home alone to her elegant mansion, an exercise in standard issue Hollywood house porn, where she prepares three filet mignon dinners, two for her dogs and one for herself. Yeah, it’s lonely at the top, and now, she won’t even be at the top! After that (predictable) disaster, we catch up with another predictable disaster, namely young Ava, haplessly catching attitude in her manager’s office from his fat, inappropriately dressed, entitled executive assistant “Kayla” (Megan Stalter), whose wardrobe seems to be “inspired” by Lady Gaga’s. Ava’s manager, “Jimmy” (Paul W. Downs), doesn’t have a lot of time for Ava either, since she got herself bounced from her former sit-com writing job, rendering herself all but unemployable after writing a joke making fun of a right-wing big shot who got outed as a closet queen after sending his gay son to one of those “gay no more” boot camps.

Now, in what millennium would an edgy young LA comedy writer blow up her career by making fun of a right-wing closet queen? I’m asking, ‘cause it sure isn’t this one! Hello HBO! Trying to make us feel sorry for an edgy millennial for making a joke that, for the actual HBO audience, is about as “controversial” as an order of avocado toast (gluten-free, of course) with a glass of soy on the side is, well, pathetic! If you want to blow up your career in LA, you’ve either got to make fun of transsexuals or use the N-word. HBO wants to give Ava, in effect, “edgeless edge”.

Well, Jimmy, to get back to him, getting an earful from two whining losers—he handles Debs as well, naturally—decides to kill two birds with one stone and shut the both of them up for at least a week by sending Ava to freshen up Debs’ act. When the two meet, it’s hate at first sight (surprised?), and, after the two exchange “cutting” insults, Ava jumps in her rental, heading for the airport and swearing she’ll never set foot in Vegas again when Debs cuts her off in her shiny new Rolls. Listen, kid, maybe you aren’t hopeless! Hell, I don’t know! Maybe I could use a new punching bag!

So Ava spends the night and in the morning meets Debs’s posse, who somehow weren’t around the night before, including a chick (Poppy Liu as “Kiki”) who stops in regularly to deal blackjack for Debs. Later, Kiki gives Ava a ride in her Rolls! It’s a freebie from Debs! “Whenever she gets a new one she gives me the old one. This is my third.”

Well, that’s the whole show in a nutshell. Over and over again, we see Debs portrayed as your standard soulless, “thirsty”, status-driven show biz egomaniac whose world is collapsing because her lame-ass Vegas act is about as fresh as Liberace’s corpse—your standard soulless, “thirsty”, status-driven show biz egomaniac who just happens to have a heart of gold!

If you are an edgy young millennial whose idea of “happiness” is driving a Rolls Royce, this is the show for you.

Afterwords

There is a “new” Pretty Little Liars, on HBO, no less, which I obviously need to check out.

Jimmy has to put up with Kayla because her dad is, of course, Jimmy’s boss.