‘Lucky Hank Review: Bob Odenkirk Hits A MidLife Crisis In AMCs LightCringe Academia Drama

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14 Mar, 2023

‘Lucky Hank Review: Bob Odenkirk Hits A MidLife Crisis In AMCs LightCringe Academia Drama

Less than a year after "Better Call Saul" ended its incredibly perfect six-season run (living up to the lofty precedent set by "Breaking Bad"), Bob Odenkirk is back at AMC. That's great for a network that's been following the two-time Emmy winner around with back-to-back hits (and just as subscribers continue to dwindle, those subscribers will either have to stay or sign up for AMC+). Wherever he appears, even if he's not sure what the new series is yet, seeing Odenkirk on TV shouldn't be underestimated.

With only two episodes, it's hard to tell if "Lucky Hank" could have used a little more of Saul's penchant for looking "dark" or if it could have better embraced his softer side. Co-showrunners Aaron Zellman and Paul Lieberstein's "Everything and the Kitchen Sink " The approach leaves plenty of room to focus on what's worked throughout the season, while also raising questions about more fragmented and well-narrated amorphous storytelling: Is this dark comedy? Little drama? Midlife crisis cringe-fest or inspirational everyman saga? What is it? Mostly about Odenkirk's frustrated teacher/writer, or will it be an ensemble piece (given the huge cast) or even a two-hander by Mirile Enos (as suggested at the end of the premiere)?

At least it's easy to trust our talented boss. Odenkirk plays Hank Devereux , a middle-aged professor at a middle-class college in Pennsylvania. His tenure served as a double-edged sword, providing security and autonomy while isolating older writers from any necessary mentorship or motivation. After struggling for days to see the potential in his students (and himself), Hank spends most of his time ordering food in class while forcing his students to critique each other.

One day, a very bad typist, who thought too much of himself, got into trouble. He wants feedback not from his peers, but from his professors, and when Hank is finally forced to offer some, there's nothing constructive in his criticism—just rants about aspiring writers, his boring classmates, and boring school in general. Soon, Hank's insanity spreads like wildfire, and everyone from the first target to the faculty resents him for calling him mediocre.

Cancel Hanks? Should he? What does he want to be? The premiere dances around these questions as Hank calms down and considers his options after the break On the one hand, he was clearly frustrated with his current situation. But starting over is easier said than done, especially if it means risking your comfortable status quo and stepping out as an artist. Lucky Hank, an adaptation of Richard Russo's novel The Straight Man, doesn't push his character too far—though. Hank let the boy do it in class, but was more cautious on a later date. He is mean to his colleagues, but he doesn't hate everyone.

Odenkirk finds a believable middle ground in Hank's behavior, allowing him to turn certain discussions into recognizable comedic patterns, while comfortably descending into anger or discomfort when necessary. He threads a believable needle and leaves "Lucky Hank" the room spinning as the story moves toward whatever sensibility feels best to him. But with the actor's long-proven range and versatility, this early entry makes you excited for a deeper look.

Sergey Bachlakov / AMC

Ditto for the amazing supporting cast. Enos, who won her own AMC fanbase after 44 episodes of The Killing, plays Lily, the assistant principal of a local high school and Hank's level-headed wife. She knew how to handle her husband's unexpected outbursts just as she knew how to handle a mischievous high school student who was testing her teacher's patience. The premiere hinted at a larger arc for Lily, but it disappeared in the second episode, making it hard to tell how many smart actors were used. Suzanne Crear and Cedric Yarbrough make an early impact as Hank's two comrades in the England unit, and it's always a pleasure to see Diedrich Bader, an on-screen and off-screen all-star, as Hank's sidekick. But with the arrival of two more series regulars, a few returning players, and even more guest stars (including Chris Diamantopoulos!), Lucky Hank exploded. Not everyone survives - not in an eight-episode season with 45-minute blocks - and many moving parts prove to be successful executions.

Since Hank's random internal monologues rarely add anything and feel self-evident to an easily relatable story, cutting the audio would be a great start. And watching Hank come to terms with his nerves at the end of episode two is more interesting than letting go of his depressed self. Givens' Hank is actually Hank Jr., the son of a famous publisher who is less respected than his father when he watches his growing baby Nepo with concern that he won't win her heart, not matching his original book offerings. And he didn't go to college. Thinking She's Gone is a serious, deep character study (which also happens to be timely). Hank doesn't need to be cast as an anti-hero when his vulnerabilities are so raw and the situation so grounded.

Also, Odenkirk has worked as an anti-hero. Let's see how he plays the hero — for Hank, for AMC, and for viewers in general.