Thu. Nov 21st, 2024

You’ll Do a Spit-take at Charlie Sheen’s Return to TV Comedy in ‘Bookie’<!-- wp:html --><p>John Johnson / Max</p> <p>A little reunion unfolds late in the premiere episode of <em>Bookie</em>, the new Max comedy created by Chuck Lorre. Beleaguered bookie Danny (<a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/sebastian-maniscalco-on-netflix-special-is-it-me-and-why-he-refuses-to-edit-his-comedy">Sebastian Maniscalco</a>) and his muscle/assistant, Ray (Omar J. Dorsey), pay a visit to Freedom From Bondage House, a ritzy Malibu rehab facility and current home to a deadbeat who owes Danny money. As it turns out, the deadbeat is one <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/keyword/charlie-sheen">Charlie Sheen</a>, star of Lorre’s long-running hit CBS sitcom <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/charlie-sheens-two-and-a-half-men-downfall"><em>Two and a Half Men</em></a>. “I’ve gotten sober here many times,” a deadpan Sheen explains, before forking over his luxury watch in lieu of cash and returning to his card game. Also at the table: Angus T. Jones, who was all of 10 when he was cast in <em>Men</em>.</p> <p>The scene is good for a laugh, one of many sprinkled throughout the episode (the only one provided to critics). In the course of 27 minutes, Danny receives a pummeling from a trans woman who doesn’t have his money (“You should see the other girl,” quips Ray); collects from a client who, judging by the smell, seems to have literally wiped his ass with the cash; and helps deliver a new TV to Ray’s grandmother, who is irate that she won’t get free HBO: “How am I supposed to see all that dragon shit?”</p> <p>There’s a shaggy looseness to the episode, and a lot of the boys-will-be-boys humor that has been Lorre’s stock in trade. The leap to premium streaming means Lorre’s characters get to swear, and the lack of a laugh track means they can act more recognizably human. There’s a comical bleakness to this L.A. milieu, a scuzzy quality that breaks through the ample punchlines. Written by Lorre and Nick Bakay, <em>Bookie </em>occasionally tries too hard; it’s usually not a great idea to have characters laugh at each other’s jokes. But it’s generally quite comfortable in its own skin.</p> <p><a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/obsessed/bookie-review-sebastian-maniscalco-carries-new-gambling-comedy">Read more at The Daily Beast.</a></p><!-- /wp:html -->

John Johnson / Max

A little reunion unfolds late in the premiere episode of Bookie, the new Max comedy created by Chuck Lorre. Beleaguered bookie Danny (Sebastian Maniscalco) and his muscle/assistant, Ray (Omar J. Dorsey), pay a visit to Freedom From Bondage House, a ritzy Malibu rehab facility and current home to a deadbeat who owes Danny money. As it turns out, the deadbeat is one Charlie Sheen, star of Lorre’s long-running hit CBS sitcom Two and a Half Men. “I’ve gotten sober here many times,” a deadpan Sheen explains, before forking over his luxury watch in lieu of cash and returning to his card game. Also at the table: Angus T. Jones, who was all of 10 when he was cast in Men.

The scene is good for a laugh, one of many sprinkled throughout the episode (the only one provided to critics). In the course of 27 minutes, Danny receives a pummeling from a trans woman who doesn’t have his money (“You should see the other girl,” quips Ray); collects from a client who, judging by the smell, seems to have literally wiped his ass with the cash; and helps deliver a new TV to Ray’s grandmother, who is irate that she won’t get free HBO: “How am I supposed to see all that dragon shit?”

There’s a shaggy looseness to the episode, and a lot of the boys-will-be-boys humor that has been Lorre’s stock in trade. The leap to premium streaming means Lorre’s characters get to swear, and the lack of a laugh track means they can act more recognizably human. There’s a comical bleakness to this L.A. milieu, a scuzzy quality that breaks through the ample punchlines. Written by Lorre and Nick Bakay, Bookie occasionally tries too hard; it’s usually not a great idea to have characters laugh at each other’s jokes. But it’s generally quite comfortable in its own skin.

Read more at The Daily Beast.

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