In this recession of creativity and rash of terrible acting plaguing the television world, it is refreshing to know that there's a certain Sarah here who knows how to connect with everyday Americans. Those tuning into the mid-season premiere of "The Sarah Silverman Program," regardless of their level of sobriety, undoubtedly walked away laughing at the limitless humor that lies in the term "nocturnal emission."
Such is the humor of Sarah Silverman, who is understood by some to be the funniest woman in America, and by others to be an average comedian who is too quick to offend. Though her brand of politically incorrect, self-mocking jokes might rub some people the wrong way, her "Program," now in its second season, is the perfect venue to see the best aspects of her humor toned down and helped by a mellow supporting cast.
In Wednesday's premiere, Sarah visits her friend-turned-neighbor Brian (played by Brian Posehn). Sensing a growing rift between them, the pair decides to spend the day together with a little help from their narcotic of choice. After following through on a few brilliant gags that only stoners could come up with, Sarah finds herself in a bind when she goes too far and kidnaps the president of an evil corporation which produces fat-free chips, diarrhea medicine and toilet paper (See the conspiracy?).
Meanwhile, Silverman's sister Laura (who plays herself) runs into problems of her own when her husband Jay (Jay Johnston) has a nocturnal emission and Laura discovers he was dreaming about another woman. "Looks like you had a nocturnal emission," Laura says. "I'm not upset; I'm flattered!" These scenes were, in fact, the funniest in the show, as Silverman's style of making people uncomfortable was perfectly executed by a normal, cheesy sitcom couple.
While other relatively low-budget shows struggle to compensate for bad acting, "The Sarah Silverman Program" revels in it. The show, though funny in its own right, is in many ways a spoof of a comedy. It uses clichés, such as the composition of Sarah's group of friends (the sister, the cop and the gay friends), but does so in a way that is just slightly different enough to be shocking.
Take, for example, her gay friends Brian and Steve. In most cases, like that of Lloyd from "Entourage" or Jack from the dreadful "Will and Grace," the token gay character is used simply as comic relief, always standing by with a zinger for the main character, while the viewer is never truly allowed a glimpse into his personal life. Silverman challenges this industry standard in every episode, as her non-flamboyant, unattractive gay friends act like (gasp) normal, fairly geeky guys. In fact, the viewer might not even know that they were gay if it weren't for the occasional politically-incorrect joke at their expense, or Sarah's introduction of them in one installment of the ever-changing opening credits ("If they could smoke weed out of a penis, they'd be in heaven.").
Though the plot of the premiere episode was a bit dull compared to the show's usual quirkiness, previews of upcoming episodes hint that the season will only improve. Last night's episode (the second installment of the two-part premiere), for instance, features Silverman suing Mongolia for rape. Though it's possible that none of her new material will touch the simple brilliance of Tab Cola from season one, it remains true that the funniest parts of her show are often the hilariously simple items or words that she uses as a basis for each episode.
While in the premiere nocturnal emissions stole the show, Silverman also gave a glimpse into her creative process. "Stoners usually have genius ideas -- we just never do anything with them," she says. While this observation doesn't make for a particularly captivating plot, it was somewhat refreshing to realize that, though Silverman's humor is blatantly stoner-oriented, she can still make it broadly accessible. Now that's a genius idea.
