The Man Show: Season One Volume One

The Man Show makes me ashamed, not because of its sexism, its obsession with women's bodies, its reliance on gross-outs, sports analogies or even fart jokes. No, I'm ashamed because this is what men are left with in the realm of gender-specific entertainment; if there's was a legitimate men's rights movement (one that fought for greater understanding, respect, or bonds amongst men), The Man Show would set it back decades. Why? Because it's stupid. Not funny stupid, like Jackass; not sexist in the fight against political correctness stupid, like Ed the Sock; not even frat boy stupid like Old School. No, The Man Show, the showcase that brought late night buffoon Jimmy Kimmel to prominence, is a sugar-high child screaming for attention, willing to break rules (but not, you know, important ones) to get it. Sketches are constantly recycled (okay, we get it, women bouncing on trampolines), and are rarely more than one note. (Farting is funny, but not three-minute sketch funny.) What's sad is how obviously cowed by the women in their lives Kimmel and co-host/co-creator Adam Corolla really are. Their furtive glances off-screen — guilty children who want to get caught if only so someone will acknowledge how innovatively bad they're being — are tellingly entertaining, except, you know, not. No wonder The Man Show isn't the target of any protests, upheavals or petitions — it's about as dangerous as a ten-year-old with a Super Soaker and a Whoopee Cushion. Extras: never before seen segments; more. (Comedy Central/Eagle Rock)