Mike Judge and Greg Daniels executive produce the half-hour series about a rare mushroom with near-infinite healing properties, from creators Joe Bennett ('Scavengers Reign') and Steve Hely.
"What if there was a medicine that could cure almost anything? What if they didn't want you to know about it?" This is how every health scam plays out, preached by everyone from snake oil salesmen to chumbox clickbaits to, probably, the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services in the not-too-distant future.
Creators: Joseph Bennett, Steve Hely
Stars: Dave King, Mike Judge, Martha Kelly
This is the premise of Adult Swim's Common Side Effects. And if the central ingredient lies clearly and obviously within the realm of science fiction, the all-too-plausible consequences that follow from its discovery are what make the animated thriller feel furiously relevant, dryly hilarious and oddly unsettling.
The panacea in question is the “blue angel,” a rare Peruvian mushroom with the almost supernatural ability to cure anything from dementia to gunshot wounds and, possibly, death itself. It’s the groundbreaking discovery of Marshall Cuso (Dave King), a bare-chested, bushy-bearded, practical-sandaled genius from someone’s eccentric hippie uncle. The enormity of this discovery isn’t lost on Marshall. Nor is the danger that accompanies it. Even when he confides his secret to his high school lab partner Frances (Emily Pendergast)—who, unbeknownst to him, happens to be the assistant to Reutical Pharmaceuticals CEO Rick Kruger (executive producer Mike Judge)—his eyes scan the room for spies.
As the saying goes, though, just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not hunting you. In Marshall’s case, “they” are. In classic conspiracy theory fashion, the plot goes all the way, starting with Reutical’s ruthless owner, Jonas “the Wolf” Backstein (Danny Huston), through the politicians in his pocket and the government agencies they run, and down to the various independent operators who see an opportunity to appropriate some of this wealth and influence for themselves.
The fact that Marshall simply wants to share this panacea with the world, with no apparent interest in profiting from it, only makes him more dangerous to the powers that be who are very interested in profit. He spends much of the four half-hour episodes sent to critics (out of a 10-episode season) running from gunfire, crashing planes, speeding down highways to get away from grizzled mercenaries. This plot element derives much of its power from its zeitgeist-like pacing. At a time when our collective faith in our political and healthcare systems has been deeply shaken, the prospect of Big Pharma resorting to murder to protect their bottom line seems less far-fetched than the idea that they would simply let him get on with his business.
But it’s the precision with which this narrative is executed that allows it to get under your skin and stay there. Common Side Effects counts among its creators some of the best purveyors of workplace comedy, including executive producers Judge (Silicon Valley, Office Space) and Greg Daniels (The Office) and co-creator Steve Hely (The Office, Veep, 30 Rock), and it shows in the series’ knack for finding the comic banality behind all of Marshall’s exotic, action-packed escapades.
Rick is less an evil genius than, as Marshall puts it, “the devil’s idiot butler,” a nose-picking smug whose method of executing Jonas’s sinister corporate directives is to fiddle with his phone while giving orders to Frances. The DEA is represented by Agents Copano (Joseph Lee Anderson) and Harrington (an exquisitely deadpan Martha Kelly), who spend their surveillance hours dancing to old songs in the car and in the office asking each other questions like “Is celery a cousin to carrot or a brother?” (“You don’t have to answer right away,” Harrington adds). Their “a job is a job” approach to their work is relatable and funny. It’s also deliberately frustrating and a little chilling. Marshall’s efforts to save humanity could be thwarted by two people who don’t bother to ask what they’re really doing and why.
But if a justified cynicism runs through the story, it’s countered by a sincere and disarming sense of wonder.
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