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Enlightened: Series Premiere

By Matt Meier · September 7, 2011

Many have considered HBO to be the kingpin of premium network original programming for quite some time now—and rightfully so.  From the highly successful runs of The Sopranos, Sex in the City, and soon-to-be-retired Entourage, to the young but award-winning Boardwalk Empire and Game of Thrones, HBO never ceases to impress us with nearly every series they air.

Alas, even the best must falter from time to time, and it appears the consistently outstanding executives of HBO have made their first misstep in quite some time with their upcoming fall freshman series: Enlightened.  Intended to be a comical indulgence in the increasingly popular movement of “positive psychology,” this story masquerading as a woman’s powerful and/or inspiring journey of self-improvement in the midst of various external hardships would perhaps prove somewhat moving—like an alternate version of Showtime’s The Big C—if these “hardships” were something more than trivial annoyances that render her “positive approach” to them as nothing short of flimsy, superficial, and utterly unsympathetic.

The premiere opens with our protagonist, Amy Jellicoe (Laura Dern), sobbing in the bathroom after discovering that her boss, Damon (Charles Eston), has transferred her out of the health and beauty department of their company in the wake of their affair.  This quickly unravels into an apoplectic tirade by Amy as she vehemently unleashes on her coworkers, the comedic climax of which comes as she spots Damon trying to scurry away on the elevator and pries open the doors, wedging her head through the narrow opening like she’s Jack Torrence as she screams: “I’ll kill you, motherfucker!”

Amy’s outlandish diatribe against Damon and the department lands her in an anger management facility, which writer/director Mike White illustrates through a montage that features Amy narrating banally positive abstractions over a series of over-stylized images meant to elicit notions of tranquility—waves on a beach, swimming schools of fish, etc.  White ends both the first and second episodes with similar moments (as well as begins the second one in similar fashion), and these moments are some of the more hallow throughout the show, hitting the audience over the head with its superficially uplifting themes while offering no compelling evidence of true profundity.

The most troubling aspect of these “inner-peace” sequences is the degree to which it augments a sense of self-righteousness in its protagonist.  Amy’s narrations that crop up in both episodes boast a sense of perseverance as she overcomes the many negative forces that aim to hold her back.  But the more credit she gives herself, the more attention she draws to the fact that she ultimately has very little to complain about.

Despite sleeping with her boss and then all but assaulting him upon discovering that her actions led to her being transferred out her of department, the company still offers her a different job when she returns from her anger management retreat—well, technically they don’t, but she basically blackmails her way back into a job by telling them that her lawyer “said there’s no way I wouldn’t get my job back when I return after getting help or else I could sue for wrongful termination.”

How noble.

They don’t give Amy her original position, which her old assistant Krista (Sarah Burns) has taken over, but rather a job in the basement crunching numbers with a cast of somewhat oddball characters.  Here we find Amy at her most loathsome.  Despite priding herself for her evolved perspective, she considers these basement co-workers to be beneath her, even referring to them as a “carnival freak–show” at one point (which one of the co-workers overhears, something for which Amy never even apologizes).  This could be forgivable if these moments existed as part of her arc, but White draws out these characters with the stereotypical mockery that suggests them to be punch-line, one-note characters, endorsing Amy’s assumptions that these people have nothing substantial to offer her.

The only truly likable character in either episode is Amy’s ex-boyfriend, Levi (Luke Wilson).  It’s unclear what Levi actually does for a living, though his excessive drug use along with some musical prowess suggests he could be either a professional musician or perhaps a drug dealer—or both, which certainly wouldn’t be a first.  In the second episode, Amy goes to his house, throws out his mayonnaise in the fridge, makes him a tofu dinner, reprimands his drug use, and suggests he check into Open Air Facilities (the rehab center she attended).  To this, Levi offers the most honest comment in the entire show, saying she’s hanging onto the cliff by a finger and it’s only a matter of time before she slips: “But lucky for you, my door is always open,” he continues, “And I don’t judge.

Perhaps Levi’s comments are the type of arc we’re supposed to be waiting for in future episodes.  Perhaps the moment will come when she does indeed slip up and return to her old ways.  But when the only arc you’re waiting for is for the moment the protagonist finally fails, it would seem safe to say that Enlightened is already “hanging on the cliff by a finger” as well, and will likely slip off right along with her.