Series premiere: Living With Yourself
The premise for the Netflix show, Living with Yourself, is a comedy about becoming a better version of yourself through some sort of cloning procedure. Just the weirdness of the premise alone led me to predict cancellation.
The show stars Paul Rudd as generic corporate drone who hates his life. He’s in advertising, hates what he’s doing, unmotivated, depressed at work; at home, his wife wants to have a baby but he needs to go find out about his motility, and he’s not feeling it. A guy at work who transformed his life tells him about an exclusive spa. He goes all in on it, even spending the money they have set aside for getting pregnant. As he’s entering the spa, he sees Tom Brady leaving, so he’s SOLD.
This is where it starts to go weird…the spa takes a DNA sample from his mouth, gives him some gas, and he wakes up buried in the forest in a diaper. He finds his way home, six hours later, to find he’s already home — another version of himself is in the house. Version 1.0 woke up in a grave; Version 2.0 woke up at the spa, went to work, and drove home. The spa never intended for Version 1.0 to wake up after the cloning and synaptic transfer (i.e. giving 2.0 the same memories), but well, they can offer a 20% discount with a referral fee.
So, the show has some things it can explore, sure. Lots of interesting threads to pluck at. But it failed at the most important factor. It’s not really funny. I smiled in mild amusement at the reaction of the spa to their return, but up until then, I hadn’t smiled at all. And I never laughed.
I don’t care if it is Paul Rudd. He’s watchable, sure. But I didn’t laugh once. I’m out. And I’m sticking with my cancellation prediction.