Over the course of its first two seasons, FX’s “Baskets” did a lot of evolving. It grew from an existentially acerbic experiment — a phenomenal experiment, but an experiment nonetheless — into one of the most challenging and warm-hearted shows on TV. And while the first two episodes of its third season give the impression that showrunner Jonathan Krisel is hurrying to soften his show’s edges (presumably to make the show more accessible, although the likelihood of it being an organic evolution shouldn’t be dismissed), “Baskets” remains a uniquely special television series, and the most auteur-driven comedy series perhaps ever.
Prior to his work on “Baskets,” Krisel was known for directing (as well as producing and co-writing) every episode of “Portlandia.” And while the visual sensibility of that show was far brighter than that of “Baskets,” it was a definite precursor to what Krisel would end up doing with his first showrunning gig. Krisel, who directs every episode of “Baskets” in addition to showrunning, has a singular comedic sensibility that’s very difficult to describe. He pushes mainstream comic actors over the edge of alternative comedy to something else entirely. It comes across in most every “Portlandia” sketch and in every throwaway conversation in “Baskets.” And what makes Krisel’s TV work not only different, but better, than most every other “alt-comedy” series on TV is his expert visual sense and preturntatural comic timing.
Season three of “Baskets” centers on the Baskets family — twins Chip and Dale, both played by Zach Galifianakis, and their mom Christine, played by Louie Anderson, who won an Emmy for the role in 2016 — opening the Baskets Family Rodeo. It’s a classic sitcom move, beginning the season with a new status quo, a fresh slate, an excuse for all the show’s lead characters to finally be in the same room together on a regular basis. For hijinks’ sake. And while the behind-the-scenes maneuvering is apparent, there’s no denying that the Baskets Family Rodeo is a tremendously fun new direction for the show.
While both of Galifianakis’ performances are outstanding — more on him in just a bit — it’s the women of “Baskets” that really shine. Chip’s friend Martha, in particular, is consistently the most heart-breakingly hilarious character on the show. She’s played by Martha Kelly, whose comic timing is more than impeccable — it’s borderline genius. In “Baskets,” Kelly is constantly mining for depths of deadpan previously unimaginable to the human comic mind. And then there’s Christine, who Louie Anderson imbues with a stunning level of pathos, even (especially) when she’s saying the most asinine things imaginable. Krisel, smartly, has begun to devise excuses to have Martha and Christine interact on a more frequent basis, leading to some of the most amazing back-and-forths in the show’s brief history.
This season builds on Christine’s budding romance with Ken, the carpet salesman from Denver who we met in season two. Ken, who’s played beautifully by Alex Morris, is probably the most purely “good” character on television at the moment — which makes him a perfect match for Christine, whose impulse is to immediately compliment everyone she encounters, no matter how inappropriate the time, place, or compliment. It’s an amazing sitcom relationship; I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it before. It’s earnest and loving and totally silly and bizarre.
Galifianakis is doing great work here too. It’s in his characters, primarily Chip, that you can feel Krisel backtracking on the show’s original mean-spiritedness. When “Baskets” first started, one of its primary features was Chip’s cruel, dismissive attitude toward Martha, who was inexplicably — and tragically — obsessed with caring for him. Their abusive relationship was one of the funniest, most fundamental aspects of the series. By the third season premiere, Chip’s attitude toward Martha has softened exponentially. And it’s not that it’s not earned (last season already had started making some shifts in this regard), it’s that Chip was initially established as a guy who has no sense of self-awareness of how his behavior affects others. His newfound tenderness toward Martha is sweet and heartwarming, but it feels like a slight cheat on the part of Krisel.
Dale, on the other hand, has always been the worst character on “Baskets.” Galifianakis has two modes as an actor, both of which he’s tired out in his film work: childish asshole (Chip) and uptight square (Dale, who refers to himself as a “metropolitan sexual”). His “uptight square” performances have always been the most annoying (I can count the number of movies I’ve walked out of on one hand — “The Campaign” is one of them), with Dale Baskets being no exception. However, last season Krisel and co. successfully built Dale into a more well-rounded character, through an arc about his ex-wife and estranged daughters. Dale has become significantly more tolerable, even loveable, as a result.
All of the best episodes of “Baskets” feature some wild Galifianakis-on-Galifianakis violence. And while nothing is going to top last season’s epic brawl which resulted in Chip and Dale completely trashing Christine’s house, the third season premiere features a gorgeously-shot silhouette tussle, in which one of the Galifianakises ends up getting accidentally stabbed by a syringe full of ketamine. It’s a sight to behold.
The perfect comic timing and wonderfully idiosyncratic line-readings of every “Baskets” cast member continue to be bolstered by the show’s ingenious dialogue. Chip telling the rodeo cowboys, for instance, that “Mom’s cool, this is her first rodeo,” or declaring, upon encountering a largeish southern estate, “what a nice dumpy castle.” The best moments in “Baskets” come in throwaway conversations, in small, otherwise inessential moments, in the things that are said off-screen once the camera has already cut away. There’s an unbelievably great conversation between Martha and Christine about polyamory and polyester that will have you laughing out loud.
And that’s another thing: “Baskets” isn’t built around laugh-out-loud moments. But when they come, and they come more frequently than you might imagine, they’re knockouts. The season three premiere concludes with one of the funniest sight gags I’ve seen in a long time. And yet while these moments are prominent and excellent, it’s the character stuff, the relationships, the Christine-Ted romance, that makes this show so special.
I am a little bit in love with “Baskets,” and if you aren’t it’s only because you haven’t started watching it yet. So get on it. [A]