Though HBO’s latest comedy is called “The Franchise,” there’s never any doubt which franchise creator Jon Brown (“Succession,” “Veep”) has in mind. The beleaguered crew, stressed-out producers and insecure stars of “Tecto: Eye of the Storm” comprise a tiny fiefdom of a sprawling empire. Overseen by an invisible puppetmaster, the master narrative is a jumbled knot of continuity errors. Actors get yanked off the set for a day’s cameo elsewhere on the drab, generic backlot as plot holes demand. Directors and performers with prestigious résumés do time for a paycheck, getting praise for their visionary genius as their every contribution is overruled or ignored. If this IP abomination had a name, it’d be Blah-rvel Cinematic Universe. But of course, it doesn’t need one.
A byproduct of the superhero era has been a slew of (barely) fictionalized laments about what the superhero era hath wrought. “The Boys” has expanded its namesake comic into a profane broadside against giant corporations and the “content” they churn out. (In Aya Cash, the Amazon drama shares a cast member with “The Franchise.”) Hollywood satires like “Hacks” and “The Other Two” have taken swipes at the state of blockbuster media. Even the MCU has gone full ouroboros, breaking the fourth wall with attempts at self-awareness, á la “Deadpool & Wolverine” and Disney+’s “She-Hulk: Attorney-at-Law.”
What “The Franchise” brings to the table, therefore, is not fresh insight into the problems that ail popular culture, but the well-honed cynicism of a comedy coaching tree. The half-hour series spews its bile with eloquence and conviction that provide their own momentum, at least to start. But ultimately, “The Franchise” is more of a (vociferous, amusing) reaction to the zeitgeist than an entity unto itself.
“The Franchise” is executive produced by Armando Iannucci, creator of “Veep” and “The Thick of It,” and the writing staff is stacked with alumni of his many projects, including Brown and “In the Loop” co-writer Tony Roche. The eight-episode season shows signs of some shared DNA with these predecessors: Its characters, like the previous works’ petty political functionaries, are hapless cogs in a rudderless institution. They can also swear a blue streak. “You flash-banged my eyeballs, you spineless fuckhead!” one screams after the series premiere culminates in an on-set accident.
The closest “The Franchise” has to a hero is Daniel (Himesh Patel). He’s the first assistant director — i.e., the person charged with running the set while the actual director, art-house hothead Eric (Daniel Brühl), picks fights over product placement. Flanked by his third AD, the cheerfully ineffectual Dag (Lolly Adefope), Daniel spends his days putting out fires and managing egos. The movie’s lead, American beefcake Adam (Billy Magnussen), has “Dorito’ed himself” — thick top, skinny bottom — with injectable sheep hormones; the villain, British theater veteran Peter (Richard E. Grant), insists on addressing his colleagues by their number on the call sheet. (He also claims to be “low-maintenance.”) The studio’s ever-present eyes and ears, Pat (Darren Goldstein), is a boor proud of his bad taste. When an aspiring artist name-drops Ingmar Bergman, Pat needs clarification: “Which one’s Berg Man? The ice cube guy?”
The fruit is low-hanging, but cathartic to snatch with such naked derision. Such are the pros and cons of “The Franchise”’s point of view, a caustic sneer blunted only by a palpable sense of exhaustion. “Nose clips on, let’s eat shit, amen” is Peter’s idea of a hype-up chant; when a minor hero, played by Nick Kroll, pops by for a guest appearance, he quickly assesses the gig as a “BFOGT: Big Fight Over Glowy Thing,” adding: “I’ve shot this scene three times in two years.”
This jaded attitude is bolstered by a sense of specificity. “The Franchise” is not just about superhero dominance writ large, but the particular late-imperial moment the machine finds itself stranded in post-“Avengers: Endgame,” with diminishing returns at the box office and increasingly onerous amounts of interconnected backstory. There are references to trimming an oversaturated release calendar, as Disney CEO Bob Iger has mandated, and car crashes en route home from night shoots, a horror story cited in the buildup to the trade union IATSE’s near-strike in 2021. A storyline about Katherine Waterston’s rare female protagonist facing an avalanche of online hate is especially poignant. “The Franchise” may not like what it sees, but its makers have clearly spent years observing the field, or more likely, being subjected to it.
However well-earned this pessimism — about the future of show business, about the possibility of making real art within an unyielding structure — may be, when sustained over four hours, it’s unrelentingly bleak. “The Franchise” never leaves its claustrophobic soundstage, and the lives the film crew lead beyond its walls are relegated to a handful of swiftly terminated phone calls. Oscar-winning director Sam Mendes, who executive produces and helms the pilot, strips away the Technicolor CGI to reveal a fluorescent-lit facility. What lively energy the shoot has comes from its workers’ constant output of adrenaline.
“The Franchise” could offset this oppressive mood by investing more in its characters. Overshadowed by the flashier personalities above the line, many of the lower-level contributors fade into the background, an unfortunate case of making a point a little too well. But even when the ground is laid for a more personal plot point, it’s seldom made the most of. We’re told Daniel shares a romantic past with his new boss, the producer played by Cash. There’s little shown of the resentment or rekindled sparks such a situation could facilitate; the ex-couple are simply too busy trying to steer their sinking ship. Unlike the bloated mess it’s mocking, “The Franchise” stays focused on the task at hand. That task just happens to be skewering its target, an end to which the human players are mostly just a means.
The first episode of “The Franchise” will premiere on HBO and Max on Oct. 6 at 10 p.m. ET, with remaining episodes airing weekly on Sundays.
From Variety US