Not just a gigolo

In ‘Hung,’ another misguided but likable underdog tries to find his way

June 26, 2009|Matthew Gilbert, Globe Staff

There’s an argument to be made that every single story about men and power, particularly when guns are involved, is, at least metaphorically, about penis size. And the spirit of Dr. Freud would of course need to be invoked along the way. But HBO’s new comedy “Hung’’ may be the first TV show to take the theme quite literally, as its middle-aged hero finds a quick solution to his small bank account and his shrinking self-esteem with his large penis.

Actually, “Hung,’’ which premieres Sunday at 10 p.m., aspires to be something more than a haven for porny double-entendres. Our hero’s endowment is only a minor, attention-getting plot point. This promising series is really about a failed optimist, driven by the recession and his own midlife depression to sell his body to rich ladies. Based on the first four episodes, Ray Drecker (Thomas Jane) has the potential to become another one of cable’s interestingly gray characters, like the pot-peddling mom in “Weeds’’ and the meth-making dad in “Breaking Bad.’’ He’s so very sympathetic, and so very misguided.

“Hung’’ is set in Detroit, the symbolically correct location for a show about the Death of the American Dream circa 2009. Ray is a former all-American jock, a financially strapped high-school coach, and the divorced father of twin teens. After a house fire, he loses custody of his kids to his self-absorbed ex-wife, played with an unnervingly helium-tinged voice by Anne Heche. He hits bottom, living alone in a tent on his property, harassed by his nouveau riche neighbor.

But in one of TV’s odder kismet moments, Ray reconnects with a former one-night stand at a get-rich-quick seminar. She’s a flaky poet with a “Proust’’ tattoo named Tanya Skagle (Jane Adams), and she will become Ray’s marketing director. Yup, the guy has a poet for a pimp.

Like many half-hour cable series, particularly those on Showtime, “Hung’’ leans heavily on the black comedy, but pathos is never far away. “I used to be a big deal,’’ Ray tells us in his voiceover, “I used to be going somewhere.’’ He reflects some of the faded hometown glory of John Updike’s Rabbit Angstrom, at least before he takes charge of his life and Googles “how to make money with big penis.’’ And it’s this grounding in character drama that helps “Hung’’ transcend its gimmicky genital premise.

Advertisement
Advertisement
|
|
|
|