There’s an inborn formative separate in “Another Period,” a Comedy Central series that looks to parody programs like “Downton Abbey,” working to track down the slippery perfect balance between a knowing send-up for the people who watch such admission and a ridiculous bring down for the individuals who wouldn’t be discovered dead doing as such. Series makers/stars Natasha Leggero and Riki Lindhome have surely drawn in a top notch cast to help with the senselessness, just to agree to the underhanded parts of turn-of-the-century mores. There are entertaining minutes, however the pride eventually appears to be more qualified to a “Saturday Night Live” sketch than another series. Enough said.
Set in Newport, R.I. in 1902, the show centers around the Bellacourts, a ridiculously wealthy family immensely dwarfed by their hovering workers, whom they for the most part deal with like furnishings. For sure, a sexual tryst is hauled out as the two high class members sit tight for their head servants and house keepers, quietly standing watch, to continuously disrobe them; while Leggero’s ruined ingenue, Lillian, rings a bell each time she needs a nibble of food, opening her mouth as though this were the emergency clinic scene in “A Clockwork Orange.”
Sister Beatrice (Lindhome, a big part of IFC’s “Garfunkel and Oates”) is similarly spoiled and vacuous, and both appear to be willfully ignorant that their spouses are not really covertly having an unsanctioned romance with one another. Concerning that appealing new house keeper (“Mad Men’s” Christina Hendricks), the sisters choose recollecting what to call her is excessively troublesome, and just rename her “Seat.”
Created by Ben Stiller’s organization (which as of late conveyed the refreshingly innovative “Big Time In Hollywood, FL” to Comedy Central), and coordinated by “Smashed History’s” Jeremy Konner, “Another Period” has stacked up on ability, including Hendricks, Paget Brewster and David Koechner as the sisters’ folks, Michael Ian Black as the gaudy steward, and Jason Ritter as the no-no object of Beatrice’s warmth.
Everybody is by all accounts living it up playing spruce up, however it’s a battle to reliably partake in the merriment, to a limited extent in light of the fact that so many of the gags rely on modest sex jokes. Without anyone else that is not really a prosecution in this unique circumstance, yet an intermittent reach for something having a smidgen more style — say, a visit from Helen Keller — normally doesn’t go quite a bit of anyplace, making this “Period” feel more vile than sharp. A similar example applies to the subsequent scene, wherein Lillian knows about something many refer to as a separation, and starts to go through different bendings in the desire for getting one.
It’s really awful, since there’s more guarantee in the thought, and scale in the execution, than a significant number of the true to life projects Comedy Central embraces. However the series, all around situated behind “Inside Amy Schumer,” more than anything plays like one of the organization’s insidious kid’s shows.
In truth, Mel Brooks found real success conveying parodies of famous film sorts, however this endeavor to move the interaction to TV — in much the manner IFC’s “The Spoils of Babylon” caricaturized foamy miniseries — feels less like “Youthful Frankenstein,” and more like “Robin Hood: Men in Tights.” Or, really, ladies in ball outfits.