She begrudgingly permits him to kiss her, though she grimaces the whole time. If you don’t follow up on what happened, you can trivialize it. has backed off of the idea of Louie as a predator or threat. We let ourselves believe Louis behind the camera was better than Louie in front of it. ‘Oh, I hope this one’s nice.’ ” This observation is no less true now that we know what C. But what really creeps me out about it is the way that C. so comfortably inhabits the role of feminist comedian, the guy who’s willing to say that men are bear-lions, who comprehends women’s fears.If you do follow up, yes, it can be bold and socially valuable to show that audience that, look: guys who do this sort of thing don’t walk around with labels on their forehead … That entire fourth season, one that explored all sorts of aspects of Louie’s toxic masculinity, ended with him in a swoony relationship with Pamela, exposed and naked in a bathtub. This sort of subtle self-aggrandizement seems to me to be all over , just toss it away.(Robin apologizes, but the relationship falls apart for other reasons.) A later scene between Jeff (Greg Cromer), the ex-husband of Sam’s friend Sunny (Alysia Reiner), finds Sam shutting down a potential kiss because she’s just not feeling it. K.’s show that tried to provoke questions about male entitlement and female acquiescence — especially the controversial two-parter “Pamela,” in which an oafish, infatuated Louie made a move on Pamela, then tried to force himself on her when she resisted him.She even covers Jeff’s mouth and says variations of “no” to him over and over for two minutes straight, as if training a dog not to bite. All of Sam’s men on season two of screenplays as either sole writer or Adlon’s co-writer suggests that he was thinking about them as well, even as he studiously avoided public discussion of the charges that he’d exposed himself to multiple women. At some point, we may have answers to such questions, but for now we only have C.A lot of the time they’re assholes, in the way that all kids (teenagers especially) can be assholes: casually, even reflexively.
Max, Frankie, and Sam are smart, self-assured, and charismatic, but they’re not nice.
The revelations, as damning as they are, don't make the show worthless, though they do make it a very different kind of document.
It’s no longer an honest consideration of a man and all his foibles, but a dissembling, secretive one—which might, in a way, make it even truer than it was before.
The result is one of the best comedies ever made about single parenting, and parenting period.
For all its frankness about sex, drugs, drinking, and the emotional damage that parents do to their kids (and vice-versa), , in contrast, was a Brechtian laboratory for dramatic and comic experiments, and it often teased audiences with the question of whether C. was better or worse than his similarly named lead character-style confessional blur of drama and stand-up.