Workplace comedies: blockbuster (season 1) & mythic quest (season 3)

Those who claim irony is dead, almost certainly watched an episode or two of the new Netflix series Blockbuster. Netflix, of course, was one of the driving forces (if not *the* driving force) behind the video store monolith’s high-profile downfall, and now they’ve produced an actual sitcom about the last remaining Blockbuster on Earth (a sitcom whose thematic stance is that brick-and-mortar video stores are vital because they offer the sort of human connection you can’t get from a streaming algorithm). On second thought, irony isn’t simply dead; it’s been hanged, drawn and quartered. 

If the fit seems off (beyond the obvious), that’s because Blockbuster feels for all the world like an NBC comedy that took a wrong turn and somehow landed on streaming. The show largely comes across as Superstore’s dorky sidekick… and manager Timmy (Randall Park) channels some serious Leslie Knope-style positivity as he tries to soldier on in the video rental game without corporate backing. His staff is the usual cross-section of endearing misfits, including secret crush Eliza (Melissa Fumero); would-be Tarantino Carlos (Tyler Alvarez); daffy, doe-eyed Hannah (Madeleine Arthur); and middle-aged den mother Connie (Olga Merediz). Park and Fumero (coming off Fresh Off the Boat and Brooklyn Nine-Nine, respectively) are reliable sitcom veterans… and the entire cast is perfectly likable (including the ever-invaluable JB Smoove as Timmy’s best friend and landlord Percy). But the writing sputters, and there’s something oddly disconnected in the way the show attempts to leverage nostalgia for the early aughts while pretending as if Blockbuster literally went out of business last week.​

In fact, the series never really seems to have a handle on why it even takes place in a video store. Creator Vanessa Ramos was undoubtedly inspired by the real life “last remaining Blockbuster” in Bend, Oregon… but that place endures, in part, because it’s made that gimmick the cornerstone of its entire identity. Since Blockbuster largely overlooks the time capsule quality of its setting, it mostly functions as a generic small-business comedy with some movie jokes sprinkled in. A few of these hit the mark (“We may have a parental situation. I mixed up The Hungry Caterpillar and The Human Centipede again”). Most do not (“The last time I went on a date, we all hated Anne Hathaway for some reason”). A workplace comedy requires at least a degree of specificity, and most of these storylines (including Timmy and Eliza’s “will they/won’t they” romantic tension) are pulled from the all-purpose sitcom writing bin. Nothing about the show feels particularly fresh - sadly, it comes packaged with multiple “pre-owned” stickers.

The smartest thing Mythic Quest ever did was presenting itself as a comedy about a video game studio… in which the video game is completely beside the point. For all the talk of the creative genius of Ian Grimm (Rob McElhenney), Mythic Quest’s vainglorious creator, the titular game is little more than a deliberately generic World of Warcraft knock-off, its presence reduced to a few transitional cut-scenes here or there… which in no way detracts from the comical dysfunction that goes into making it. It’s a show that intuitively understands just how much to draw from the gaming industry without succumbing to myopic self-indulgence.

To be completely honest, the third season of Mythic Quest is slightly less terrific than the first two. Not surprisingly, McElhenney and his creative team looked to shake things up at the end of season 2, as Ian and his long-suffering lead engineer/co-creative director Poppy Li (Charlotte Nicdao) struck off to start their new company “GrimPop”… leaving henpecked middle manager David (David Hornsby) behind to mind the MQ store. Much of the season is thus spent feeling out these new dynamics (which includes corporate shark Brad (Danny Pudi) finishing his stint in prison for insider trading and rejoining the MQ team… as a janitor). Poppy remains an absolute delight, one of the most endearing characters on TV (two words: “the brunch”)… but she’s better when she’s positioned as the grounded (and frequently exasperated) counter to Ian’s raging narcissism. Instead her own neuroses are cranked to the max, leaving her and Ian’s personalities to ricochet wildly off one another within the confines of their futuristically dystopian office space - which sort of looks as if Steve Jobs and George Orwell collaborated on the set design for Solaris (former tester Dana is eventually added to the GrimPop mix to help modulate things somewhat, but her presence only goes so far).​

Of course, Mythic Quest established itself as one of the sharpest workplace comedies on TV thanks to its cast, and that hasn’t changed (even if the show disappointingly bids farewell to F. Murray Abraham as hack fantasy novelist CW Longbottom). Hornsby remains an obvious standout, a Jedi master in the art of fumbling beta subservience, as does Jessie Ennis as his unnerving, Machiavellian assistant Jo. Brad steering the guileless, wannabe SJW Rachel (Ashly Burch, who also writes, directs and happens to be one of the industry’s top voice actors) towards the dark side of video game monetization also pays comedic dividends. Much of the season ultimately feels like a write-off, as Ian and Poppy return to the MQ fold (and GrimPop seemingly goes the way of The Michael Scott Paper Company), but it was a necessary course correction; the series runs in optimized performance mode (4K 60fps) when the characters maintain a tighter orbit with one another.