When looking back at the history of sitcoms, so many shows, from The Honeymooners to The King of Queens, are defined by one-sided, sexist marriages that make you ask why the husband and wife never separated. AMC’s Kevin Can F**k Himself looks to turn the premise on its head where the exhausted housewife becomes self-aware of the cold, empty world where her schlubby, childish husband is the center of the universe. The hook is brilliant; taking such a dated stereotype and spinning it with a clever Gone Girl styled revelation. It sounds like the basis for an incredible miniseries intended on deconstructing these exploitative relationships.
However, the show does not give you a complete and enclosed story. Instead, the audience is presented with a very sympathetic, but frustrating portrayal of someone suffering who cannot escape her situation because of the show’s hour-long formula that bites off more than it can chew.
When Kevin Can F**k Himself starts, we’re dropped into the multi-camera sitcom where Allison (Annie Murphy) is burdened not just by Kevin’s (Eric Peterson) loutish demands, but also the insults by Kevin’s dad Pete (Brian Howe), Kevin’s best friend Neil (Alex Bonifer), and Neil’s sister Patty (Mary Hollis Inboden) piling on that she’s hormonal, inattentive, and selfish. It’s awkward, it’s antiquated, and it really underlines how suffocating it would feel to live in the toxic, fake trappings of the ‘90s. Allison snaps out of the sitcom whenever Kevin is absent, transporting the audience to a modern-day Massachusetts plagued by dreary winters and income inequality filmed like a single-camera prestige drama. The jump between these two worlds is a great storytelling device that also showcases how versatile Annie Murphy and Mary Hollis Inboden are between roles as supporting players in a sitcom and women who are burdened with responsibility in real life.
However, what’s frustrating about Kevin Can F**k Himself is that it feels like there’s a huge lack of confidence; the series seems to think that breaking down the callous horror of sitcom tropes isn’t enough to satisfy an hour-long show. About 25% of the time, we’re in the dated sitcom, where segments are appropriately tacky and cringe-inducing, but the remaining 75% of runtime leaves us in the grimy setting dedicated to the modern-day struggles of economic turmoil.
The first half of the season is dedicated to Allison attempting to kill Kevin and make it look like an accidental overdose. Her hatred is justified, as Kevin manages to do worse things episode after episode, even casually joking he got the mailman deported for making him mad. So we watch Allison concoct her plan, but we’re forced to watch this chain of events where we see how she acquires the drugs, how the pharmaceutical industry exploits people, and if the drugs are even reliable. It feels like a greater commentary on the opioid crisis rather than strong character development, especially when this particular subplot results in a bad comedic domino effect that has no satisfying conclusion. The result is unwieldy; making the very serious revenge drama clash tonally with this sitcom parody rather than work in tandem.
The character who probably changes the most throughout the show is Patty, who had always existed between the two worlds. She eventually gets brought into Allison’s scheme to eliminate Kevin from the picture thinking that it’ll provide solace for both of them. But to fill out the run time, we see Patty go through three different romantic relationships including an undeveloped romance that existed for three years and a relationship with a suspicious cop. Mary Hollis Inboden carries so much of the action on her shoulders. She weaves through both modes really well, though I think her character becomes very exasperating as the primary conduit to perform all the dirty work and narrative action.
Allison also goes through many different transformations throughout the show. She has fantasies portraying what her new life would be without Kevin and she even gets to form a sexual relationship with her old high school friend Sam (Raymond Lee). This new dynamic adds some really nice dimension between both characters, even working out a way to learn more about Allison’s past and how she perceives other people in the dramatic world. Unfortunately, like many other subplots, it ends suddenly in a way to put the characters back towards a sadder status quo. The potential of Kevin Can F**K Himself is nearly at grasp, though it’s held down from too much padding.
I believe much of the set up is to indicate that Allison can’t break away from Kevin so easily. She can’t just run away or rebel against his frat boy attitude. But what I don’t understand is why the show feels so determined to paint Allison as a self-saboteur. So much time is dedicated to Allison and Patty’s failures and how their decisions retroactively end up hurting many more people along the way, including themselves. As an audience member, even as someone who can relate very deeply with their blights, the comedic and dramatic suffering can really wear you down. There’s a sense that even if Kevin’s toxic presence doesn’t ruin their lives enough, then the dramatic circumstances of the setting will. Perhaps the show isn’t intended to just be satire of the sitcom formula, but that leaves you with a very oppressive drama that’s very scattershot in execution.
What I can appreciate about this show, at least, is that there are a lot of subtle details thrown around to explain the psychology of these characters. Allison hints that Kevin helped her escape from an abusive home life which is why they got married so early. There’s also a huge question of how much of Kevin’s confidence is affected by his drinking, which is the cornerstone of many of his wacky subplots. There’s plenty of buildup established through the season that gives great weight to its very impactful finale.
Not to give away too much information, but season one ends on a really interesting, strong cliffhanger for all of our characters. The barrier between comedy and drama is much more fragile than we realize. And when you think that Kevin may have some kind of revelation about how he contributes to an awful world, he actually ends up going in a much worse direction. You get the indication that, although his story isn’t going to end, his relationship with Allison will become a lot more public and challenge-worthy. Though considering everything else that happened throughout the show, I have to wonder if those sacrifices were worth it just so that I have a hook to watch the next season play out.
All of these concepts in Kevin Can F**K Himself can pay off as the formula changes and some of the ideas are refined. The shakiness of the show’s gimmick and the relentless pain that the characters go through make it a very hard show to recommend. While the structure works as a great experiment in the world of cable TV, it can also serve as the show’s greatest enemy. Kevin Can F**K Himself is walking on a tightrope…my hope is that the creators can reach the end they want by giving us the satisfying conclusion we all want, the sooner the better.
