‘Government Cheese’ Review: Moving on Up, to the Surreal Side
The comedy, starring David Oyelowo, straddles a border between the pioneering Black sitcoms of the 1970s and dreamy modern dramedies like “Lodge 49.”Hampton Chambers, the would-be patriarch played by David Oyelowo in the Apple TV+ series “Government Cheese,” bears some resemblance to a classic sitcom dad. He has moved on up, finding a home in a tidy San Fernando Valley suburb for his wife and two sons and striving to keep them there. He is obsessed with taking family photos. He cajoles his rebellious younger son into a weekend fishing trip at a nearby lake, with predictably comic results.But what distinguishes Hampton, and “Government Cheese,” are the ways in which he departs from the stereotype. The fishing trip is a cover for a nighttime burglary. The photos are exculpatory evidence. He owes a debt to a local criminal clan of seven thuggish French Canadian brothers. His George Jefferson cockiness is cracked by fissures of guilt, fear and regret; he pleads with Yahweh for forgiveness.That might make Hampton sound like a Walter White (“Breaking Bad”) or a Marty Byrde (“Ozark”), losing his way under pressure. But “Government Cheese,” which premiered on Tuesday with three of its 10 episodes, is indeed a comedy, if a barbed and mysterious one; it straddles a border between the pioneering Black sitcoms of the 1970s (it’s set in 1969) and the fable-like dramedies of the streaming era, particularly “Lodge 49,” a show it strongly evokes. (There is also some “Fargo” in it, at the darker end.)“Absurdism” and “surrealism” are the words Apple TV+ has applied most liberally in the show’s publicity materials. American comedy very rarely commits to these qualities, though. What “Government Cheese” really offers is something softer and more common: a mildly sardonic, artfully presented magical realism.Hampton is in prison for petty fraud when the show starts, about to be paroled. He comes home to find that his family has been hijacked by the ’60s. One son, Einstein (Evan Ellison), is a soft-spoken prodigy who sees his future in pole vaulting; the other, Harrison (Jahi Di’Allo Winston), is a budding radical who wears a Billy Jack hat and identifies with the Chumash people. Hampton’s wife, Astoria (Simone Missick), has a job and a man on the side, and sees her husband’s return as a threat to her tentative freedoms.Hampton’s hopes of proving himself and keeping his family together are pinned to a gizmo he invented in the prison machine shop, a self-sharpening drill. (It isn’t clear whether it actually works.) In his way are the comically violent Prévost brothers, as well as the everyday difficulties of being out of place, as an ex-con and a Black man, in both suburban Los Angeles and the aerospace industry. That’s why he reluctantly puts the drill to use as a safecracking tool, in league with his old friend Bootsy (a jovial Bokeem Woodbine).We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More
