<div>It is not unforgivable — at first glance — to mistake the new CBS comedy Friends with Better Lives as an extension of that comedic titan from the mid-1990s, Friends. <br /><br />The setup is similar. <br /><div><br />The story revolves around six “chums” and their various misbegotten, supposedly funny antics, while navigating that sometimes bewildering world of relationships and coupling. <br /><br />But while Friends covered the lives of a sextet of Caucasian 20-somethings, trying to get somewhere in their lives, Friends with Better Lives is about a clique of 30-somethings, well-established in their careers, but on the downward plunge from divorce, bad relationships and marital rut. <br /><br /></div><div>The setup is designed to pander to the age-old suspicion that no matter where anyone is in their love lives, they are actually missing out on the real fun. <br /><br />The execution, however, falls flat on its face.</div><div> </div><div>At the show’s core is the recently-divorced Will (James Van Der Beek), a reasonably successful obstetrician/gynaecologist who, having lost his wife (and home), moves in with his business partner Bobby Lutz (Kevin Connolly) and spouse Andi (Majandra Delfino). <br /><br /></div><div>Come nightfall, everyone ends up in Lutz’s living room — which is this show’s equivalent of Central Perk — because in this world, attachments run deep. So deep that the cellphone, as an invention, does not exist.<br /><br /></div><div>Thrown in the bag are Andi’s old sorority sisters, Jules (Brooklyn Decker), a blonde ditz carrying vague undertones of Jennifer Aniston, and Kate (Zoe Lister-Jones), a dominatrix, spinster-in-the-making. <br /></div><div><br />Completing the cast is Jules’s new boyfriend, Lowell (Rick Donald), a new-age vegan who owns an Indian restaurant, speaks of his love of gardening, the horrors of animal slaughter and is predictably Australian. <br /><br />Because when it apparently comes down to it, only Australians, with their wild-child upbringing, have the sufficient sexuality and empty-headed abandon to be both attractive and preposterous at the same time. <br /><br /></div><div>The characters are largely one-dimensional clones of previous sitcom discards. <br /></div><div><br />Yet, Kate seems to have the most potential. She has all the best one-liners, the most spunk, and runs through first dates faster than she can floss her luminous teeth.</div><div><br />She also appears to carry the dead weight of the series on her shoulders.<br /><br /></div><div>Then there is the near-X-rated dialogue. <br /><br />This latest sitcom seems determined to cram as many sexual innuendos within 22-minutes of programming as possible.</div><div><br />This is also the kind of series which — like Friends — will prove vastly more popular outside the US than within. After all, its promises of white, attractive libertines romping, sometimes plodding knee deep through seminal fluid in the American singles-scene, caters to vicarious thrills. <br /><br />True, its characters exude a sort of glowing dysfunctionality, but the show offers the reassuring message that no matter what problems may come, everything will turn out alright — and with a laugh.<br /><br /></div><div>Show creator Dana Klein’s entire career has revolved around comedy. Unsurprisingly, she also spent three seasons on Friends as a writer before working her way up to supervising producer.<br /><br />None of these experiences have helped her elevate this tired, grating excuse for a sitcom.<br /><br /></div><div>If 1990’s Seinfeld pioneered the use of comedy to portray the lives of shallow, judgmental singles unleashed on the dating arena, then Friends with Better Lives shows us how low this sub-genre can stoop. <br /><br />Seinfeld’s genius lay in its gift to find humour in the absurdity and banality of adult lives. <br /><br />This show tries to get the same rise by showing us a woman sexually ravaging a hamburger (echoing that famous diner scene in When Harry met Sally); a couple who find passion (and flatulence) in the throes of pregnancy, and two friends who become entangled with a drunken bisexual. <br /><br /></div><div>Is this interesting stuff? Maybe for some. For others, it is cringe-worthy and certainly not funny. <br /><br />Just banal. </div><div><br /></div></div>
<div>It is not unforgivable — at first glance — to mistake the new CBS comedy Friends with Better Lives as an extension of that comedic titan from the mid-1990s, Friends. <br /><br />The setup is similar. <br /><div><br />The story revolves around six “chums” and their various misbegotten, supposedly funny antics, while navigating that sometimes bewildering world of relationships and coupling. <br /><br />But while Friends covered the lives of a sextet of Caucasian 20-somethings, trying to get somewhere in their lives, Friends with Better Lives is about a clique of 30-somethings, well-established in their careers, but on the downward plunge from divorce, bad relationships and marital rut. <br /><br /></div><div>The setup is designed to pander to the age-old suspicion that no matter where anyone is in their love lives, they are actually missing out on the real fun. <br /><br />The execution, however, falls flat on its face.</div><div> </div><div>At the show’s core is the recently-divorced Will (James Van Der Beek), a reasonably successful obstetrician/gynaecologist who, having lost his wife (and home), moves in with his business partner Bobby Lutz (Kevin Connolly) and spouse Andi (Majandra Delfino). <br /><br /></div><div>Come nightfall, everyone ends up in Lutz’s living room — which is this show’s equivalent of Central Perk — because in this world, attachments run deep. So deep that the cellphone, as an invention, does not exist.<br /><br /></div><div>Thrown in the bag are Andi’s old sorority sisters, Jules (Brooklyn Decker), a blonde ditz carrying vague undertones of Jennifer Aniston, and Kate (Zoe Lister-Jones), a dominatrix, spinster-in-the-making. <br /></div><div><br />Completing the cast is Jules’s new boyfriend, Lowell (Rick Donald), a new-age vegan who owns an Indian restaurant, speaks of his love of gardening, the horrors of animal slaughter and is predictably Australian. <br /><br />Because when it apparently comes down to it, only Australians, with their wild-child upbringing, have the sufficient sexuality and empty-headed abandon to be both attractive and preposterous at the same time. <br /><br /></div><div>The characters are largely one-dimensional clones of previous sitcom discards. <br /></div><div><br />Yet, Kate seems to have the most potential. She has all the best one-liners, the most spunk, and runs through first dates faster than she can floss her luminous teeth.</div><div><br />She also appears to carry the dead weight of the series on her shoulders.<br /><br /></div><div>Then there is the near-X-rated dialogue. <br /><br />This latest sitcom seems determined to cram as many sexual innuendos within 22-minutes of programming as possible.</div><div><br />This is also the kind of series which — like Friends — will prove vastly more popular outside the US than within. After all, its promises of white, attractive libertines romping, sometimes plodding knee deep through seminal fluid in the American singles-scene, caters to vicarious thrills. <br /><br />True, its characters exude a sort of glowing dysfunctionality, but the show offers the reassuring message that no matter what problems may come, everything will turn out alright — and with a laugh.<br /><br /></div><div>Show creator Dana Klein’s entire career has revolved around comedy. Unsurprisingly, she also spent three seasons on Friends as a writer before working her way up to supervising producer.<br /><br />None of these experiences have helped her elevate this tired, grating excuse for a sitcom.<br /><br /></div><div>If 1990’s Seinfeld pioneered the use of comedy to portray the lives of shallow, judgmental singles unleashed on the dating arena, then Friends with Better Lives shows us how low this sub-genre can stoop. <br /><br />Seinfeld’s genius lay in its gift to find humour in the absurdity and banality of adult lives. <br /><br />This show tries to get the same rise by showing us a woman sexually ravaging a hamburger (echoing that famous diner scene in When Harry met Sally); a couple who find passion (and flatulence) in the throes of pregnancy, and two friends who become entangled with a drunken bisexual. <br /><br /></div><div>Is this interesting stuff? Maybe for some. For others, it is cringe-worthy and certainly not funny. <br /><br />Just banal. </div><div><br /></div></div>