Binge Or Cringe: 'Bookie' Sees No Payout Despite Big Gambles
What is comedy if not social critique? What is comedy without self-awareness? Arguably, comedy exists to critique contemporary norms by highlighting their absurdity, so how can Max’s Bookie compete when every modern comedy knows how to laugh at dark subjects, and most importantly, itself? The answer: it doesn’t. It's dry, dated, and comedically underwhelming, despite its massive lead and even bigger gambles. With backing from Max and Chuck Lorre, the producer behind Two and a Half Men, the story of Los Angeles bookie Danny (Sebastian Maniscalco) is ripe for Max’s edgy comedic lineup, what with his misadventures collecting debt while facing the inevitable legalization of his profession; yet the series fatally jumps into the deep end thinking it knows how to swim. While Bookie’s mix of insane antics and entertaining side characters occasionally keeps it afloat, it is overconfident and drowns in its own unawareness, tackling dark subjects without enough wit or charisma to entertain.
Meet the bookies
A stern yet compassionate gambling facilitator, Danny places bets for his often non-paying clients while tackling marital problems with his wife, Sandra (Andrea Anders), and California’s on-going legalization of online sports betting. He’s accompanied by Ray (Omar J. Dorsey), a caring colleague looking to provide for his mother and his baby mamas. Danny’s sister, Lorraine (Vanessa Ferlito), serves as their bookkeeper with the help of Hector (Jorge Garcia), a former drug dealer whose marijuana business was destroyed by its legalization. The parallels between Hector and Danny don’t go unnoticed, as Danny’s refusal to work under someone else ultimately destroys his relationships and business. However, the series does nothing with what could be an interesting arc of growth and acceptance. Instead, Maniscalco is forced to read jokes so obsolete you would think they came out of the 90s. A lot of weirdly preachy monologues litter the series about issues it clearly doesn’t care about. In episode one, Ray informs Danny about the sensitivity of their trans clients’ proper pronouns, followed shortly by a lazy jab at trans people. Ray constantly reprimands Danny for his ongoing racism, only for Ray’s main gimmick to be that he only likes rap music. The series pulls cheap punches as a sad attempt for laughs without realizing it lacks the sophisticated writing to make relevant social commentary.
More often than not, Danny is paradoxically self-aware. He’s empathetic and caring, just not outwardly. He’s tough, but not street tough, freaking out when confronted with violence. He constantly wrestles his conscience to keep himself afloat above everyone else. These two sides pull him apart so drastically that he takes a path of indirect violence, occupying a profession where he can’t see the harm he brings to others with addiction. He lives in contradictory states, aware of himself but too self-indulgent to act. Yet the series doesn’t take action with Danny, a man ignoring his morality while following a lifestyle shrouded in excess. Instead it jokes, without any substance, about the ghetto, sex, drugs, and other topics that 14-year-olds love.
Even as a co-lead, Ray doesn’t get much in terms of story or character development. He hangs out with his baby mamas, his mom, Lorraine, and Danny. Despite being in almost every scene, he simply exists without anything to do besides act as Danny’s sidekick. However, Lorraine and Hector — despite being low-stakes characters — offer much needed laughs with their wacky side plots and eccentric performances. Lorraine begins a mushroom business, providing the best scenes in the entire series thanks to Ferlito’s New York-style aggressiveness and sardonic approach. Despite his miniscule role, Hector is the star of the show. He is perfectly witty, and his delivery elevates each scene he is in. Both of these characters don’t have much backstory or emotional baggage, but it’s not necessary when they provide the only source of comedy across each episodes’ 25-minute runtime. Undoubtedly, the casts’ chemistry works well when they’re together, which sadly isn’t often. Overall, the group breathes constant chaos, but Bookie doesn’t channel the eccentricities of its characters, leaving a series void of any personality or charm.
Was it binge or cringe?
Bookie feels like watching a sitcom without the laugh track. The show lets its jokes simmer like it’s waiting for audiences to laugh, but laughs are few and far between. The jokes are boring, one-dimensional, and further hindered by the uninspired performances of Maniscalco and Dorsey. The series doesn’t use Maniscalco’s eccentric on-stage personality, instead opting for a dull, apathetic character deprived of any wit. The series would greatly benefit from a one-hour runtime as its current pacing chases the comedic bits like it’s crossing off a checklist. However, the series’ characters are wonderfully cartoonish and brash when confronted with chaotic situations, albeit rarely. This leads to genuine comedic moments where the cast is able to offer a breath of fresh air amidst the series’ lazy writing. These characters would benefit from a more chaotic script, as the current laid-back ‘LA cool guy’ persona that Bookie presents falls flat. The sentimental moments with Danny and Sandra break the show in two, leaving the comedy and embracing the series’ dark undertones. It’s bleak, and Anders perfectly portrays a woman torn between her desire for normality while stuck in a cycle of crime. However, the colorless writing along with the bizarre pacing leaves Bookie with messy characters trapped in a lethargic world.
Bookie leaves much to be desired. Everything is surface-level, which wouldn’t be a problem if the writing was up to par. The series painfully limits its actors and tries to make statements about topics it doesn’t care enough to properly discuss. Danny oscillates between his need for independence and his desire for compassion, yet the series doesn’t take this anywhere. Each character’s interpersonal turmoil goes completely ignored as the series writes boring dad-jokes without its characters in mind. Despite some entertaining moments and fun side characters, Bookie struggles to find its footing among Max’s strong comedic catalog, and it remains uninspired despite the hidden potential of its characters.
who will like it?
Bookie took a low-stake gamble with Maniscalco and Lorre but lost its bet in a spectacular way. It wants to be raunchy and suave but struggles to find a cohesive identity. Its side characters shine a ray of light through a muddied, overcast series, ultimately keeping it from falling apart. However, they are barely present, and rarely does the show cater towards the casts’ eccentric and lively personalities. The series is by-the-numbers, monotonous, and lacks the confidence it so desperately pretends to have. All eight episodes of Bookie can be streamed on Max.