From 2007-2014, David Duchovny, who found fame in the nineties in The X Files, took on a role that deviated wildly from that of Agent Mulder. Hank Moody, the central character of Californication is a self-destructive man-child whose outrageous charm and proclivity for excessive substance consumption nevertheless does not manage to drown out the fact that he is a brilliant writer struggling to find a way to balance his tendency towards excess against his love for his daughter and attempts to achieve personal stability.
A great many writers (myself included) will find the ‘tortured artist’ elements of Moody’s character striking a chord. But, many others may find the abundance of nudity, profanity, and drug use which characterised the show to be off-putting. That’s a shame. Californication has some of the tightest writing I’ve ever come across, stellar performances, and a truly great presentation of its critique of the surreal elements of stardom and the Hollywood fame machine. In the words of show creator, Tom Kapinos, Hank is more often than not working on projects he himself would not pay to see, which frustrates what is made clear time and time again, his enormous talent.
So should you watch it? If you aren’t too put out by the aforementioned depictions of depravity, absolutely. Need a little more convincing? Read on.
Maybe I’m a total sucker for a good romance, because it one of the top reasons I recommended everybody go and watch Chuck is because of the phenomenal love story. Well, same goes for Californication. The emotional linchpin of the show is Hank’s relationship with Karen and his daughter, Becca. His inability to ‘get his shit together’ plausibly keeps them apart, as the fact in order to be creatively successful he embarks upon a lifestyle which puts him in the path of a myriad of colourful, dysfunctional characters who involve him in their dysfunction whether he is willing or not.
Duchovny sums it up by saying that “the sentimentality of the show is it believes in true love in a way, even though the nuts and bolts and the comedy of the show is what gets in the way of true love.”
But a good love story alone is insufficient to make a show truly great. What adds complexity to Hank and Karen—and as such, gives the show meaningful depth—is his relationship with his daughter, Becca. Because season one begins with her at age twelve, that makes her a dynamic character as the show progresses. By extension, Hank is constantly forced to play different roles in her life as she demands different things of him as she grows up. Perhaps the show’s most profound moments come from the transition of the young neo-goth who adore her father and tries to protect him, to someone who has a very complex relationship with her father as she comes to see his behaviour in the light of a more cynical, frustrated adult.
I would argue that Becca’s transition into adulthood is one of the reasons why seasons 5 and 6 are the show’s best—because as she begins to mimic some of the behaviours that she has seen her father exhibit, he is forced to genuinely evaluate them in a way that he has not before. The conceit of his 12-year-old daughter seeing his irresponsible behaviour could arguably exist in a vacuum, but when you see the consequence of that behaviour coming home to roost years later, it forces a heavy introspection which makes for meaningful—and darkly funny—watching.
Worth watching as well is the self-destructive hilarity of the show’s other leads (Evan Handler is a particular standout in his role as Hank’s agent, Charlie; the diametric opposite of Harry Goldenblatt, who he played in Sex and the City).
Moreover, what I’m going to term the nuts and bolts of any show are just really tight; the writing is just plain good. The dialogue is excellent and doesn’t force the characters into inconsistencies of behaviour, all of the actors are excellent…the kind of things that one notices if they aren’t done properly are all maintained really well throughout the show’s 7 season run.
Finally, to successfully pull of the critique of the almost surrealist excess and debauchery of the super-rich and famous, the guest stars who portray these messy people are generally quite brilliant, as indeed, are the characters themselves. I’ve mentioned my belief that seasons 5 and 6 are the best, and that is in no small part due to the celebrity characters within them. In season 5, we are introduced to rapper Samurai Apocalypse, played by RZA, whose absurd worldview and abject lack of any tether to sanity is not only hilarious to watch, but works as an interesting counterpoint to Hank who becomes bemusedly swept up in Apocalypse’s antics.
Amazingly, the show managed to top this in season 6 by bringing in Tim Minchin to star as rock legend Atticus Fetch.
Minchin’s portrayal of Fetch is perhaps the most clearly drawn and as such, exemplifies what means the show is not only a superficial parade of substance abuse and sex: When even he, a narcissistic star with enough money and fame to basically do whatever he wants, pauses for a moment and reflects upon his mistakes and what is truly important to him, we get a glimpse of someone whose happiness is thwarted by their own poor decisions and the circumstances which allow impulse rather than reason to reign. The depth of these moments which are scattered like jewels across every season gives the show grounding, reminds the audience that it’s easy to lose sight of the long-term end goal, in addition to gently nudging Hank back into a place from which we desperately hope he manages to live ‘happily ever after’.
Don’t let the ‘T&A’ fool you. The show is well-written and profound in ways and places you may not expect. I thoroughly recommend.
For Australian viewers, all seasons of Californication are available on Stan.
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