“Louie” is one of those shows that no one watches but everyone talks about, and by everyone, I mean critics. When it comes to TV, my wheelhouse is basically those shows and cartoons, so when I noticed “Louie” on Netflix I decided to find out for myself what all the fuss was about.
I was hooked. A little over a month later, I’ve seen every episode.
“Louie” is incredible. Incredible enough to vault itself into the discussion for my favorite show ever. Yes, I do have tremendous recency bias: My all-time favorite movie is always one I’ve seen in the past month. Still, this show is fantastic.
The thing that’s great about “Louie” — the thing that makes it so different from everything else on TV — is how crushingly real it is.
When I say real, I don’t mean realistic. Much of “Louie” is truly absurd. But everything is real. Every odd facial expression the show’s protagonist makes, every beautiful, gross, loving shot of New York, every awkward, direct, absurd conversation is real.
Sometimes binge-watching a show exposes its seams. Not with “Louie.” Its unique storytelling method never ceases to knock you off balance. The show’s first season was a balanced blend of funny, smart and charming. Louis C.K. could have easily kept spinning variations of those episodes, and no one would have complained — after all, that was more or less “Seinfeld’s” approach for nine years.
But C.K. isn’t interested in settling on one tone or making one type of joke. He’s not even comfortable choosing one length for his stories. Some take up just half an episode, but the longest storyline spans six.
As time has passed, C.K. has only grown more ambitious with the scope of his material. By his show’s most recent fourth season, C.K. found himself completely at ease with long periods of time passing without even the hint of a laugh. It gave him the freedom to do, well, anything.
This approach to making TV has resulted in one of the most consistently gut-punching shows on television today.
There are shocking twists in “Breaking Bad,” but that’s expected. There are hauntingly raw interactions between characters on “Mad Men,” but the personalities set this up from the get-go. “The Office” is hilarious, but the viewer is usually already primed for laughs.
Each episode of “Louie” hits you on an emotional level for which you’re not prepared, because you can’t prepare for it. You never know where C.K. is going to take you. And this is what I mean when I say “Louie” is the realest show on television. Life doesn’t have a tone. It’s not pleasantly humorous, awkwardly funny, depressing, shocking or beautiful. It’s all those things and everything else. “Louie” is a fictionalized version of Louis C.K.’s life, and Louis C.K. is a real human being. He experiences everything the world tosses around him, and he has taken on the grueling task of trying to spatter all of it onto the television screen.
Binge-watching a show like this is a lot to handle. You start to see the world through Louie’s eyes. You notice things in your daily life you might have missed before. It becomes harder to glaze over the not-so-nice things people do to each other and themselves, because “Louie” is hyperaware of each of these interactions. It also becomes easier to appreciate those things in our lives, both big and small, that we are usually so adept at ignoring.
Now, I have to connect this to sports, because this is a sports column. I could use my new cynical “Louie” vision for evil and bash the NFL, but that’s far too easy. Yes, the NFL has many problems. If you’d like to learn more, I suggest CNN or the New York Times or the Washington Post. Anywhere but here.
Instead, I want to stop and appreciate a particularly affecting gesture from the Thursday night football game between Atlanta and Tampa Bay, the kind of moment that is easily swallowed up and forgotten in the box score.
It was midway through the second quarter, and the Falcons had steamrolled their way to a 28-0 lead. The game was over before it had a chance to begin. After yet another 3 and out, the Bucs lined up to punt the ball. On the receiving end of the kick was the one and only Devin Hester.
Hester caught the ball cleanly and, as he has done so many times, weaved nimbly through a few defenders before breaking into the open field and putting on a burst of speed that left the rest of the Tampa Bay defense in his wake. It was going to be return touchdown number 20 for Hester, enough to pass his close friend and mentor Deion Sanders’ record for most all time. As it so happened, Sanders was in the building covering the game, watching Hester sprint down the sideline.
As Hester neared the end zone, he slowed down just enough to put one hand behind his head, kick one leg forward, then the other leg, and back and forth and back and forth. Millions of viewers around America had the same realization — that’s Deion’s move! He’s high-stepping like Deion!
It was a stirring tribute in a game that has rarely had time to be sentimental lately. The gesture served as a reminder of what the NFL can be.
James Cohan ’17 is currently looking for another new show to call his favorite. Send him ideas at james_cohan@brown.edu.
ADVERTISEMENT
