Television Watch: The Righteous Gemstones

The Righteous Gemstones takes the tried-and-true David Gordon Green/ Jody Hill/ Danny McBride formula of southern-born numbskulls with no filter (Eastbound and Down, Vice Principals) and this time focuses on the family of a highly successful televangelist, Eli Gemstone (John Goodman).  McBride plays Jesse Gemstone, the eldest child of Eli and Eli's now-deceased wife Aimee-Leigh.  Adam Devine plays the youngest child, Kelvin, a man-baby, closeted even from himself.  And Edi Patterson plays Judy Gemstone, the near feral daughter who somehow takes it up a notch even from what McBride is delivering.  Other players include Smallville's Cassidy Freeman as Amber Gemstone (if you thought she was maybe one of the more talented folks on Smallville, she's here to show that notion was correct.  She's maybe too young for the role, but she's great, so let it slide), Jesse's wife.  And, Walton Goggins as Eli's brother-in-law, Baby Billy.

I have to stop there, because one of the fascinating things about The Righteous Gemstones is the massive scale of the show, including the cast.  All those names aren't even scraping the surface of all the characters.  We see a massive sanctuary/ auditorium, each Gemstone has a separate McMansion on the family plot, there's a theme park (Heritage USA, baby!), and a story that sprawls across decades.  The ambition of the show - which is centered on an emotionally stunted, foul-mouthed clan who earnestly believe both in their righteousness and whatever is the last thing to come out of their mouths (no matter how vulgar or insane) and the very real failings of people on a pedestal.  Especially those who would claim to speak for God.  

With Season 2 now well underway, it's clear that The Righteous Gemstones is telling an epic, only-in-America story mixing comedy, crime drama, generational family issues, commerce, religion, showmanship and the American South.  For what started as a broad comedy of illusion versus reality, by this point the show will go whole episodes barely looking for a laugh.  If this creative team figured anything out with the phenomenal Eastbound and Down, it's that caring about these characters does mean that in a serialized show versus an episodic sitcom, those slings and arrows of comedy we see come from and cause real hurt.  And, arguably, this team has found ways to create a fascinating tapestry of characters, each on their own arcs, and each incredibly specific.  

The show is wildly profane, the utter humanity of the same figures peacocking before the cameras at service at odds with the same people who provide the audience with their figureheads on the road to salvation.  But that's for the audience to notice - because the Gemstones themselves are oblivious to the dissonance and hypocrisy.  They're far more aware of what makes for a good show and how to keep the show working, and if they're doing that right, everything else must be okay, and good with the Lord, too?  

The show may not be in love with the idea of televangelism, but it isn't anti-religion.  And, in fact, I'd argue the show leans on faith and a non-bedazzled version of grace.  It's quick to acknowledge the good at the core of belief in higher powers - even when it rolls in the madness of the avarice that fuels the business of Religion.  The Gemstones own property, jets and mansions - and it's not some cooked up fantasy, it's a reflection of what the preachers on TV (especially the Prosperity Gospel prophets) will gladly show you themselves.  

Heck, if you weren't a child of the 80's with memories of Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker and Oral Roberts, between the end of Season 1 and the debut of Season 2, Jerry Falwell Jr. more or less provided a season's worth of nonsense getting him ousted from his roles at Liberty University and related positions.  

There's no doubt that the show would be too much for a lot of people.  Judy Gemstone's dialog alone would be enough to get a lot of folks to switch the dial, let alone the show's thumbs-up approach to showing dicks as much or more than boobs.  

And, yeah, both Season 1 and Season 2 center on the indiscretions and secrets of the Gemstones and how they spiral out of control, dirty south crime noir, really.  The show is still a comedy, and the situations a mix of comedy and tragedy.  And to that, one of the best tricks in the show's bag is to either deliver pathos when you expected a laugh or a laugh when you expected tears.  Or scenes of brutal honesty that are so absurd, your mind just sort of melts (Edi Patterson's Judy Gemstone delivers an all-time TV monolog in Season 1, which I'll link to, but - deeply NSFW and spoilers ahoy).  

It's amazing what the show packs into an episode, what it's done with character and world building.  And what it has to say about everything it covers, and there's no lie in any of it.  But the show also doesn't *blame* anyone.   It just says "this is kinda who we are.  I mean, really."  Given all the chances in the world and a platform to make lives better, we're maybe not always at our best.  And we're maybe kinda stupid and at our worst with the people who know us for real.

Anyway, I get the feeling this is a show people will realize they accidentally slept on.  It seems when I've talked to people about it, they watched the pilot and were of the opinion they got the show, and I guess I'd assure them:  you did not.