‘It’s Florida, Man’ Review: HBO’s Star-Studded Collection of Sunshine State Misadventures Could Stand to Be Quirkier

Every few months, the Confederated Union of TV Trend Piece Reporters gathers to launch a flotilla of “Is HBO’s Sunday night domination over?” stories.

Game of Thrones ends? “Is HBO’s Sunday night domination over?”

Succession ends? “Is HBO’s Sunday night domination over?”

House of Dragons departs for an indeterminate period of time? “Is HBO’s Sunday night domination over?”

But the cool kids know that while HBO’s Sunday remains a center of beloved prestige programming that waxes and wanes in cyclical waves, if you’re looking for the future of television today, you’re better off turning your attentions to Fridays at 11.

Related Stories

Movies

Mikey Madison Reveals Lessons Learned From Sean Baker While Filming Palme d'Or Winner 'Anora'

Movies

'Blink Twice' Review: Channing Tatum and Naomi Ackie in Zoë Kravitz's Skillful but Scattered #MeToo Thriller

I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it again: This is where HBO is putting the good stuff, the weird stuff, the auteur-y stuff, the stuff you can mention at a party and know that anybody who knows what you’re talking about knows what they’re talking about. The space has been home to one of this year’s best shows (Fantasmas), to several of the best shows of the past decade (How To With John Wilson, Los Espookys and more) and to countless quirky oddities of the sort you won’t find anywhere else on TV. I’m confident HBO will keep filling Sunday nights with titles big (The Penguin) and small (Somebody Somewhere is back Oct. 27), but Friday at 11 is the slot that I’m actually protective of.

Debuting this Friday night at 11, It’s Florida, Man may be the least eccentric and least experimental series that HBO has programmed in its end-of-week late-night hub. If there’s anything less edgy than making fun of the wackiness of Florida and its misadventure-prone denizens, it’s lining up a parade of recognizable guest stars to join in the campaign. But if TV watching and TV perception are habit-forming — and how many HBO Sunday shows have been elevated to perceived prestige by virtue of their scheduling? — maybe debuting a show this instantly accessible on Fridays at 11 will help train viewers to take an interest the next time Julio Torres does something genuinely surreal or subversive?

And It’s Florida, Man is far from bad. Critics have been sent four of the season’s six episodes, and they have a pleasingly loose vibe that’s more Drunk History than Room 104 — an HBO anthology series that I wouldn’t have minded seeing It’s Florida, Man creators Jeff Tomsic and Mark Herwick emulate a bit more.

The premise is very straightforward. Each half-hour recounts a real-life mishap of the kind that helped Florida develop its national reputation as a meme in state form, through both reenactments starring celebrities and interviews with the actual Florida men and women in question — giving the latter the chance to recapture or at least partially shape their own narratives.

So It’s Florida, Man isn’t simply making fun of Floridians and their frequently drug-addled calamities. It’s complicatedly making fun of them. Somewhat. Danny McBride‘s Rough House Pictures is one of the producers, and if you’re familiar with his mocking-with-affection output, that’s the tone you should expect here.

There’s the tale of Eric (Simon Rex in the reenactments), who admits he’s “not the sharpest tool in the shed,” which only partially explains how he ends up fighting to survive in the swampland after an alligator eats his arm.

There’s the story of Whitney (Anna Faris), an “aquatic performer” whose career as a mermaid takes a dark turn when she starts a feud with a colleague, Mia (Mary Elizabeth Ellis), who turns out to be a witch.

Then there are Derrick (Echo Kellum) and Denver (Jon Gries), whose unlikely love story hits a speed bump that leads to a precarious legal situation involving spaghetti sauce and a bull costume.

And there’s the saga of Phil (Sam Richardson), a Disney cast member who posts on Craigslist that he’s willing to do anything for money to go to a concert — forgetting that in Florida, “anything” is bound to be disturbing.

The episodes, all directed by Tomsic, are very aware of our collectively derisive perception of these Florida Man anecdotes. They often present each situation through multiple perspectives, showing various levels of empathy to the narrators and romanticizing or condescending to their versions of events.

The familiar actors are a cute touch, elevating It’s Florida, Man above the gawking that a similar concept on TLC or Discovery might deliver. The performances are mostly pantomime backed by narration from the real heroes, with highlights including Ellis’ crazed intensity as a mermaid turned witch, Rex’s sad desperation as a man battling nature and an increasingly anxious Richardson as the world’s biggest Bassnectar fan.

Having the actual people present helps to protect the show from accusations of caricature, and the best episodes give these unlikely heroes room to dimensionalize themselves. Eric, who initially presents as a strung-out cartoon of a man with very few teeth and equally limited common sense, displays a colorful and poetic wisdom that boosts his installment. The real Denver gets to summarize the theme of the entire series when he observes, “Everybody here is interesting, you know? They got their struggles and stuff, but overall, they’re good people.”

The featured stories are varied, even if Herwick and Tomsic’s approach to them have a sameness that sets in quickly. Each outing looks the same — the Florida settings don’t offer nearly the authenticity they ought to — and builds its punchlines in the same way, like having the actors directly repeat lines uttered by their true-life counterparts. Things that are stylish and clever the first time are calcified by the fourth episode.

This is where I wish a little of that Room 104 energy could have come into play, bringing in different writers and directors for each chapter, especially since each narrative occupies a different genre. Assuming that It’s Florida, Man is going to be successful — and the memes and stars come with their own built-in audiences — there should be opportunities to take more risks in a hypothetical second season.

It’s HBO Friday at 11, Man.

Act like it.