The general rule of a Tim Robinson project is that the loud, preposterous character Robinson plays will be surrounded by people who have come to the unspoken agreement that whatever odd behavior he’s exhibiting is consistent with how human beings behave in real life. It’s completely normal, in the Tim Robinson cinematic universe, that someone would talk and act the way he does. Often, that’s because the people who surround his character meet him where he’s at, whether that involves matching his trademark frantic intensity or echoing his delusions. In a Tim Robinson world, nonsense problems are blown up into abject chaos, and the slightest faux pas has the power to completely ruin a person’s life. In a Tim Robinson world, the issue isn’t that a guy wearing a hot dog costume drove his hot dog-shaped car into a store; it’s that he’s doubling down on lying about it. The laws of these worlds have been established long before we dropped in on the story, and it’s up to us to catch up. It’s a testament to Robinson’s well-earned confidence in his own comedic voice that he’s able to pull it off, over and over again.
The Chair Company, the new HBO series that Robinson co-created with longtime collaborator Zach Kanin, introduces us to another loud, preposterous individual whose life descends into chaos after committing an embarrassing faux pas at work. Here, Robinson plays Ron Trosper, a generally affable family man who works at a vaguely defined firm, where he’s leading a project to build a new mall. His wife, Barb (a pitch-perfect Lake Bell), is trying to secure funding for her “stylish breast pump” business; his daughter, Natalie (Sophia Lillis), is getting married to a real dud; his son, Seth (Will Price) is preparing to go off to college. The banality of Ron’s life, as well as his predilection for yelling and obsessing, calls to mind the driving force behind many a sketch on Robinson’s Netflix series I Think You Should Leave. But The Chair Company avoids feeling like one long ITYSL sketch by anchoring those familiar beats to a greater purpose as Ron gets sucked into a far-reaching corporate conspiracy.
ALSO READ: The complete guide to fall TV
To reveal the specifics of Ron’s blunder would be a violation of HBO’s spoiler policy, but if you know anything about Robinson’s work, you can probably sense the vibe. Something happens at work th at mortifies Ron, he demands an apology from those responsible, and then it all spirals out of control, to absurdly hilarious results. After the incident happens, Ron is so furiously embarrassed that he hides beneath his desk and has a frenzied, kicking tantrum. At the office the next day, in effort to perform normalcy, he addresses it with a wincing joke that is clearly being ripped out of the depths of his broken soul. His coworkers burst into relieved, uproarious laughter. “I was worried about you, I’m glad you’re joking about it now,” says one colleague. “No, I think it’s funny,” Ron replies. “I told my wife about it last night and we were cracking up
Ron’s plight is painfully relatable. Who hasn’t done something embarrassing and thought about it for much longer than anyone else who witnessed it? Who hasn’t dreamed of getting justice over a non-issue? Ron has a relatively simple goal, but the world won’t stop barraging him with bizarre setbacks and sending him down swerving paths, which forces him to dig his heels in. That it could all be over if he simply admitted to not being OK with what happened at work does not cross his mind. His pride would never allow him to do that. More than that, Ron knows there’s something big going on, and he believes he’s the only person who can see it. Uncovering the truth, he reasons, will help him assign meaning to what happened to him. At the heart of it, Ron is just a guy trying in vain to find control in an unpredictable world.
To go to work in our modern era is to be constantly subjected to indignities, something Robinson has made a career out of examining. The only way to get through it all is to put each indignity behind you and move on to the next day, but The Chair Company spins out into a subtle horror as it imagines what would happen if someone were chronically incapable of moving on. As the situation grows more dangerous and strange, Ron becomes well aware that he’s in over his head, but he refuses to put a stop to it. Most of the time, he barely knows where all the clues are leading him — “A lot of sh– I didn’t have a clue about,” he admits late in the season — but every time he tries to back out, he’s dragged back in, either by his own dogged curiosity or the external forces he’s gotten in too deep with.
The world of The Chair Company is incredibly well realized, filled with unsettling details and packed with weirdo characters who do not act like anyone you’ve ever met but are so consistent with the setting the show has created. Episodes are edited together in the style of a psychological thriller and are deftly directed by Andrew DeYoung (who also helmed this year’s Friendship, in which Robinson co-starred) and Aaron Schimberg. A powerhouse performance from Robinson is what ties it all together: In the seven episodes screened for critics (there are eight total), all of his unique talents are on display. He repeatedly screws up his face in confusion or rage or discomfort, his eyes alternately vacant and panicked. He unleashes mushmouthed rants when Ron is pushed to his limit, shoving words together in ways only he could. (“You’re blowing bubbles, you’re doing the cha-cha with Doris — this is a workplace, not a grab-ass parlor,” he furiously tells a coworker early in the season.) Even before the conspiracy begins to take shape, Ron’s a live wire who is never entirely comfortable with the world around him. Moments into the pilot, he wakes up in the middle of the night and grouses, “I swear, I have the worst pillow in town. This thing is made of goddamn metal.” It’s a seconds-long moment that is never addressed again, but it’s so revealing of who Ron is as a character. Nothing is enormously wrong, but nothing is quite right either, making it slightly hard for him to simply exist.
As dramatic as this all sounds, The Chair Company is very much a comedy, and by far the funniest show of the year. It doesn’t so much have jokes as it has bits, the majority of which land incredibly well. But it’s the way Robinson and his collaborators inject simmering anxiety into each laugh that gives the show its edge. We never know what’s going to happen next, and neither does Ron. It’s unpredictable, it’s refreshing, and it’s utterly Tim Robinson.
Premieres: Sunday, Oct. 12 at 10/9c on HBO, followed by new episodes weekly
Who’s in it: Tim Robinson, Lake Bell, Sophia Lillis, Will Price, Joseph Tudisco, Lou Diamond Phillips
Who’s behind it: Tim Robinson and Zach Kanin (co-creators), Adam McKay (executive producer), Andrew DeYoung (director)
For fans of: Conspiracies being investigated by lunatics
How many episodes we watched: 7 of 8
