On paper, “Harmony” appears as though a customary sitcom premise: a wedded couple with two little youngsters, flanked on one or the other side by the spouse’s jobless closest companion and the wife’s kooky, eager for man sister. However as made by the Duplass siblings, this HBO arrangement turns into another serialized story of metropolitan elitist tension, with a great deal of Woody Allen-like soul-looking and an independent film reasonableness. Much obliged to some degree to the cast — maybe particularly Melanie Lynskey — the show demonstrates sufficiently watchable, if one can move beyond exchange like, “I’m attempting to uncover myself from underneath the belly of sadness.”
A close friend to FX’s “Wedded,” “Fellowship” projects Imprint Duplass (who co-made with sibling Jay and co-star Steve Zissis) as Brett, a film sound person wedded to Lynskey’s Michelle, with whom he’s bringing up youngsters and worrying about things like rounding out kindergarten applications.
All things considered, Brett and Michelle are not particularly upbeat, with the sex a piece of the marriage having to a great extent evaporated, making each keep thinking about whether there isn’t a more thing to life — him, in the end, through a profound mission; her by starting to consider another man (John Ortiz) she experiences.
Both discover sanctuaries to impart their interests to similarly self-included gatherings: His chest buddy Alex (Zissis), who is compelled to concede “the acting thing isn’t going on,” and moves in with them; and her sister Tina (Amanda Peet), who chooses to remain in L.A. after a separation, while asking Michelle — with individuals from the gathering approaching 40 — “Do you understand what it resembles to date at my age?”
Having the four together doesn’t simply make a full house (actually no, not so one) but rather likewise breeds new inconveniences, including Alex’s not so subtle pound on Tina, whose endeavors to run him out of his funk just stir up those ashes.
HBO has sandwiched this novice among “Young ladies” and “Looking,” making what adds up to an hour and a half square that is however apparently comparable as it very well might be limited — and, on account of “Fellowship,” where you’re enticed to inquire as to whether you’d like some cheddar to go with all that whimper. Not that the show doesn’t yield a few experiences, minutes and even giggles, however it for the most part falls inside a restricted scope of individuals who ramble about their sentiments and, on account of the focal couple, don’t allow more broad solaces to hinder anguishing about their issues.
To the degree it works, “Harmony” depends on the weakness of the characters, sprinkled with snapshots of unreasonableness, like such a master (Mary Steenburgen) who Brett experiences while meandering through the recreation center during a later scene. (In any event, during a dry season, L.A’s. lush zones are apparently creeping with such characters.)
Peter Gallagher likewise turns up as, what else, a Hollywood maker, with the town’s remarkable idiosyncrasies basically turning into a central piece of the show, including interesting intervals like Alex being advised he’s not fat enough to play the closest companion or sufficiently slender to be a main man.
Indelicate in spots and despairing all through, the arrangement — like its half-hour bookends — is a preview of a specific companion right now, and there are general components woven into those sensations of disarray and aching. The test is getting individuals to mind, and watching “Togetherness’ ” eight-scene season, it was hard not to intermittently consider Rick Blaine murmuring to a young lady, “Everyone in Casablanca has issues. Yours may work out.”