Men at Work: The Complete First Season

Men at Work: The Complete First Season
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By sheer virtue of being a TBS sitcom, expectations for Breckin Meyer's male-bonding comedy, Men at Work, are low. The network is notorious for lowbrow comedies trapped in the cycle of cheap, broad gags and traditionalist storylines that were popular 20 years ago. And, sadly, even within that lexicon of pure low-end comedy trash, Men at Work still stands out as a supreme piece of crap. It's astoundingly unfunny and actively loathsome, featuring vile, shockingly single-minded characters, lazy storylines and an abundance of repetitive, lethargic ball-kicking and poop-inspired jokes that could only truly connect with the smallest of small-minded middle-American drones. Even the premise lacks any sort of vitality, basically being a tame Sex and the City for dudes that work at a magazine. There's the sulky, recently dumped Milo (Danny Masterson); smug dickhead Tyler (Michael Cassidy); clueless dork Neal (Adam Busch); and douchebag stud Gibbs (James Lesure). Together they embark upon what mostly appears to be a mission of spreading STDs, save for Neal, who struggles to perform even the most rudimentary sexual act, telling his girlfriend, who wants him to talk dirty to her, that he wants to pull off her head and poop in the corner. When not having entirely contrived, unrealistic and unfunny conversations with an endless line of interchangeable model types, who would never bother with any of these guys in real life, they're trapped in the cycle of thinking that their form of B.S. posturing is somehow better than the B.S. posturing of others. For example, in the first episode, Tyler, a greasy tool with Patrick Bateman hair and an "I have a gold card, ladies" stockbroker/sports agent suit, criticizes someone for wearing a toque indoors, as well as a Dane Cook-ish, chain-wallet-wearing troglodyte. Oddly, afterwards, he wanders over to his friend Gibbs, who is wearing a cocked fedora and transparently needy pimp suit, and doesn't offer any sort of critical commentary, even though his validation get-up is the most desperate of all. Every character is a superficial moron performing external identity that demonstrates a childish need to garner attention, but none of them are aware of it. Sadly, the show isn't aware of it either, nor is it cognizant of its general badness and similarly desperate need for basic validation. The only supplements included with the first season set are some deleted scenes, which is a shame, since it would be great to learn more about how the boys choreographed their dry-hump frat-boy dance they perform every time it's suggested that someone might get laid. (Sony)