Take a Drink: whenever Dave and Fiona burst into song or high-five.
Take a Shot: for every awkward kiss.
Dr. Jay’s Special Addition (given to us by Rob Corddry himself) Take a Drink: anytime Dr. Jay touches his face.
Take a Drink: for every cameo role.
Shotgun a Beer: when Dave and Fiona drop a truth bomb on Dr. Jay.
By: Felix Felicis (A Toast)-
It’s a brave new world, kids. Women can vote. Squirrels can ride water skis. Indie television can pave the way for Generation ADD five to seven hilarious minutes at a time. Wedlock manages to cram more humorous punch per minute into each episode than most full-length comedies on air right now. Imagine every inappropriate thing you’ve ever said sober, wasted and accidentally high that one time your friend, Scott, DIDN’T TELL YOU THOSE BROWNIES WERE POT BROWNIES BEFORE A JOB INTERVIEW THAT YOU SPENT LICKING THE FURNITURE AND NEVER GOT A CALL BACK FOR, and crank the dial up to eleven and you’ll be halfway to the gut-busting shenanigans this ode to Indie television has in store for you.
Wedlock follows writer-director-actor extraordinaire, Mark Duplass, as “Dave”, one half of an unstoppable relationship locamotive alongside Jennifer Lafleur’s “Fiona” heading straight toward Rob Corddry’s “Dr. Jay” at full insanity ahead. Convinced that they’d make the perfect pair, this power couple tears into the benign Dr. Jay’s life and begins to dismantle his psyche one well-intentioned and fully absurd brick at a time. Hijinks and Shenanigans ensue.
Cards on the table, I’ve never been a fan of web series, especially web shorts; convinced there was no way in Paris Hilton’s vagina, I mean Kim Kardashian’s uterus, I mean hell, that they could possibly cover all the bases (humor, plot, character arcs, depth of purpose) that full-length sitcoms could in such a compact format and, much like that time my sister convinced me that “bangs were ‘in’ right now”, I was Nicholas Cage’s career choices, I mean going to see a One Direction concert, I mean wrong.
Wedlock delivers all of that and more in a series of ten 5-7 minute episodes, each one carefully designed to be more off-the-wall and hilarious than the last. From the cast to the writing to the direction, this condensed palate cleanser of video-on-demand comedy uppercuts your funny bone so hard you won’t laugh right for a week. Seriously. I CANNOT get rid of this witch cackle. Jennifer Lafluer (the impetus behind the creation of the series), Mark Duplass (co-funder and champion of the Indie movement) and Rob Corddry (possible blackmail recipient and comedy dynamo) gel so cohesively that their chemistry shoves you into the windowless van of the series so quickly you don’t even have time to text for help.
The direction is fluid, efficient and doesn’t miss a beat; moving events (and characters) along seamlessly, gift-wrapping each episode of Wedlock neatly and completely. The writing spits out so much unbelievably funny dialogue per minute I was laughsterbating in the fetal position so much I got stuck like that… You don’t want to know how I’m typing this.
That’s not to say Wedlock wasn’t without minor flaws. There was an episode or two in the middle where I was smiling, but not clutching my face in “WTF?!? HAHAHAHA” awkward laughter. I can only blame the first four episodes for what I can only diagnose as “humor fatigue”. The struggle is real, people. I should be getting my medical marijuana card any day now. The plot doesn’t ever go off the rails, but it wobbles a few times, with turns of events almost so fantastical they seem unreal.
Overall, Wedlock is an unbeatable juggernaut riding a bedazzled Lisa Frank pony through comedy Narnia. This series exceeded my wildest dreams; even the one where Charlie Hunnam covers me entirely in honey before Channing Tatum shows up with nachos… Okay, it’s dead-even. Embrace the insanity, Boozers, drink the Kool-Aid and buy the entire season on Vimeo for $3.99. You won’t regret it and you can trust me, I’m a *doctor (*not a doctor).