Ryan Reynolds is best known for playing two comic book characters, for better or worse: Deadpool (for better) and the Green Lantern (for worse). But did you know that in the same year that the Merc with the Mouth made his mouth-less debut in X-Men Origins: Wolverine, Reynolds played another superhero? I didn’t, because the movie only made $13,514 at the box office, which makes sense, as it only played in three theaters.

Paper Man is (this plot synopsis takes a turn, hang on) an “inspirational comedic drama about an unlikely friendship between Richard, a failed middle-aged novelist who has never quite grown up, and Abby, a 17-year-old girl whose role in a family tragedy years earlier has stolen away her youth. Both are unsure, both are afraid to take firm steps forward, and both are looking for that special friend – that connection – to help guide them into the future. Since his childhood, Richard has mostly relied on the imaginary one that resides in his head – a costumed superhero known as Captain Excellent.”

Reynolds plays Captain Excellent, as Lifewire editor-in-chief Lance Ulanoff recently discovered. “I randomly selected a movie called Paper Man on Amazon Prime. I have so many questions for @VancityReynolds,” he tweeted, tagging Reynolds, who responded, “I have zero answers.” He looks looks a cross between Superman and Victor Zsasz in Birds of Prey, with a dash of Ken from Toy Story 3, as a treat. It looks… yeah.

Reynolds isn’t the only big-name star in the cast, though: there’s also Jeff Daniels, Emma Stone, Lisa Kudrow, and Succession favorite Kieran Culkin. But at least they didn’t have to dress up like this. How long before Captain Excellent joins the MCU?

The white whale for anyone whose humor censors and set-up detectors are fried from overuse is a joke that cannot be explained. Music, at its root, is just math, and comedy is mostly just a surprise-generating engine. We can know these things intuitively and still enjoy them, the job of the artist is to make us temporarily forget. To lose yourself in a joke or a song is a kind of leap of faith, an act of willfully seeing the ghost in the machine. In those few moments you belong to the spirit world.

The best joke is a coincidence of cosmic proportions that feels like it could only have happened in just that way, and only just the once, where the mechanisms behind it are either impossible or pointless to explain. I think that’s why I was so obsessed with Nathan For You, a show that felt like the ultimate anomaly. It was a show that was elaborately planned and meticulously staged and yet everything funny about it only seemed to happen by accident. It stands as one of the most weirdly edifying television experiences I’ve ever had.

Nathan For You followed comedian Nathan Fielder as he “helped” apparently real struggling businesses, by designing elaborate, convoluted solutions to their business problems. In the show’s intro, he pitched himself as the ideal consultant because he had “graduated from one of Canada’s top business schools with really good grades.” This as the camera flashed across a transcript showing three Bs, an A, and a C, in classes with comically vague titles like “strategic management.”

Some of his early episodes showed him helping a yogurt shop by creating a buzzworthy “poo-flavored” yogurt, designing a fake viral video for a petting zoo, and creating a “rebate” for a gas station that was impossible to collect — even after the patrons ran up a hill. Along the way, it introduced us to a series of fascinating oddballs, like a foul-mouthed private detective who seemed to hate Fielder, several celebrity impersonators, and an obese ghost expert who described an incubus as an entity that “basically has sex wid em until they died.” The ghost expert died during the show’s run, becoming a ghost himself.

Nathan For You wasn’t the first comedy ever to mix documentary segments with scripted, to introduce us to oddball characters, feature a host who was awkward and dry, or be funny in a way that was hard to explain. Jackass, the Ali G Show, Tim & Eric (who produced the show), and Tom Green (often unfairly left out of discussions like these) all feel like spiritual precursors, to varying degrees (with Eric André running in parallel). Yet Nathan for You was singularly itself, and I’d like to think was perfect for its cultural moment.

Subtly underpinning every gag was the idea of late capitalism as a dehumanizing hellscape. Succeeding at business in Nathan For You almost always required treachery (faking viral videos, exploiting fair use to create a coffee shop that would compete with Starbucks by looking like Starbucks) and disdain for the customer (making them run up hills for a few cents, assuming they’d be too dumb to know Johnny Depp from a bad Johnny Depp impersonator). His “solutions” turned what should’ve been intuitive interactions — eating chili or buying yogurt — into rube-goldbergian attempts to extract profit. Whether those attempts even succeeded or not was almost beside the point; the point was to try.

Creating these elaborate, quasi-inept business plans, meanwhile, required an expert’s grasp of LA Craigslist and how to exploit it, and an intuitive understanding of what people would be willing to do. Without desperation and the gig economy, Nathan For You couldn’t have existed.

In playing a more awkward, desperate version of himself (a running gag was Fielder creepily hitting on women), he cast himself as the ultimate parody of a McKinsey consultant, some snot-nosed preppy virgin sent to “fix” a business he knew nothing about, the banality of evil made flesh (pre-empting by years the rise of Pete Buttigieg). When Fielder’s solution to fix a yogurt shop was to design a flavor that was deliberately inedible, the joke was on the market. The way to make money is to literally feed your customers shit.

Critics love to find our own worldviews reflected back at us in other people’s art, but I don’t think I’m projecting here — in a 2015 LA Times profile, Fielder said his show had been partly inspired by the mortgage crisis:

“I was really obsessed when the mortgage crisis happened and how it came down to these personal moments between people where someone senses something’s wrong, but they don’t want to speak up,” Fielder told Libby Hill.

“For Nathan on the show, ethics are not on my radar as much,” Fielder said of the version of himself he portrayed on the show. “Risk and effort don’t seem to register and it’s inspired by that modern Wall Street mindset of finding loopholes.”

Which is to say, the Nathan Fielder that Nathan Fielder played on his show was overtly a parody of amoral capitalism. It doesn’t matter how you do whatever you thought was your job, it’s how you game the system.

The show had a clear format, but not really a formula, and for the finale, it threw out what rules it did have. In place of joke-Nathan trying to joke help a business for a half hour, there was a slightly less contrived version of Nathan helping a Bill Gates impersonator from a previous episode try to reconnect with a long lost love — in a two-hour finale, “Finding Frances.” It’s hard to overstate what a surreal thing this was to be able to see on basic cable television.

It was a wonder that Nathan For You ever got on the air in the first place, but the finale was its swan song — brilliant, strange, empathetic, hilarious, and occasionally creepy. It stands as one of the greatest, strangest, most heartfelt and funniest things I’ve ever seen on TV. Legendary documentarian Errol Morris called it “unfathomably great.”

“Finding Frances” took what was normally a sub-theme in Nathan for You and made it the theme — an attempt to make genuine a human connection in a world that seems designed to thwart them. And like virtually all the other episodes, that attempt turned quixotic. This was a show that asked not only why we can’t make more genuine connections but whether we even deserve to.

It ran just four short seasons, but considering the kind of coincidences and candor it took for it to work, it’s a wonder we even got that many. It was a show about strategic planning whose appeal rested on plans going awry. That’s hard to plan for. Nathan For You manages to stand as both the show we deserved and a show we didn’t deserve.

Vince Mancini is on Twitter. You can access his archive of reviews here.

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Netflix’s Brews Brothers is raunchy, ridiculous, and right up the alley of folks who’d love to go out and have some beers right now, but given our current situation, are wise enough to stay home and live vicariously. The set-up is exceedingly simple. The show hails from brothers Greg Schaffer (That ’70s Show) and Jeff Schaffer (The League), and it’s loosely based upon their relationship. Alan Aisenberg steps up as the Greg-like character, Wilhelm, and Mike Castle picks up the Jeff-like character, Adam. They’re estranged, warring beer snobs — each insufferable in their own way — who are attempting to resurrect a struggling LA brewery. As one can imagine, the two very much step on each other’s nerves in the process but must learn to work together. In that way, it’s a very predictable show, but it’s surprisingly charming in the process.

Honestly, I could stop right there because that’s enough to sell the show to people who are predisposed to refreshingly breezy comedy that’s absolutely soaked in pee jokes, but that would be too easy. There’s an audience for that kind of series, no doubt, but there’s also added value here. The show manages to surreptitiously delve into human relations and emerge with a fair amount of insight without getting preachy in the process.

It’s a strangely endearing show, but oh my god, there’s so much pee. I should probably reflect a little bit on why Brews Brothers brings more than lewd and bawdy jokes to the table, and it’s useful to say that the sweetness isn’t forced. A lot of the jokes are disgusting and verge on going overboard. Buckets full of bodily functions go down in public. There’s a straight-up masturbation obsession (although it’s a claimed non-obsession), a character referred to as the “Picasso of Dildos,” and something called “Taking A Growler” that prompts an extended gag that won’t quit. Chances are decent that you’re not fully prepared for the shenanigans that go down in these eight episodes.

Well, I take that back. If you’ve been mainlining late 1970s comedy movies during these self-isolating times, you won’t be shocked by what transpires. Brews Brothers reminds me, in some ways, of films like National Lampoon’s Animal House, but there’s a key difference: a lack of sexism and homophobia. It’s remarkable, really, how this Netflix show manages to gleefully dive into raunchy waters without coming off as racist or sexist (given that a lot of that ’70s-’80s comedy did not age well), but somehow, the show pulls off that feat. And the real kicker is that the show doesn’t even exude a politically correct aura — it simply crafts its jokes about other subjects.

Mainly, the humor revolves around the Rodman brothers as caricatures of personalities. The other characters, as banal as their actions might be (including a sexed-up couple of food-truck operators who don’t do sanitation practices), bounce off the brothers and reflect the Rodmans’ faults. As a result, the stakes of truly offending people are relatively low here — making this a stress-free comedy — and every party on this show knows how to hold their own. That includes the right-hand woman of the brewery’s operations, Sarah. She’s portrayed by Carmen Flood in an admiringly punchy way.

As far as the brothers go, Mike Castle is appropriately slimy as Greg, who’s gone through the conventionally accepted schooling that one can expect from someone making a career as a braumeister. Castle’s so convincing that he might actually struggle to shake this role off in the future, whereas Aisenberg’s return to comedy feels refreshing. Folks will remember him (even with a beard) as Orange Is The New Black‘s naive CO, Baxter Bailey, whose fate became hopelessly intertwined with the tragic outcome for Poussey. That was a tough arc for viewers to stomach, but this is where Aisenberg can cast away the Bailey vibes. He’s having a blast, and so will viewers.

Is the show authentic about inner-brewery workings? Well, it was crafted with on-set experts around every day during production. Whether or not that aspect succeeds, I’ll leave the judgment up to the true cicerones out there. What I can say is that I appreciate beer but didn’t have to feel silly about a lack of in-depth beer knowledge under my belt. Further, the show’s vulgar and heartwarming while also knowing its place. It never pretends to be serious, which is a welcome approach at any time but especially these days. There’s already too much stress in this world, so why add to it, right?

If you want to watch some booze-loving monks (who doesn’t?) and a story where a key obstacle is how to recreate an IPA that a distributor loved without knowing that someone peed in it (why not?), then you’re probably gonna dig Brews Brothers.

Netflix’s ‘Brews Brothers’ beings streaming on April 10.

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Make your food last SO much longer, cut down on your utility and clothing bills, *and* replace a bunch of disposable plastic.

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Australian prime minister Scott Morrison has told international students to “return to their home countries” but for many people on student visas it isn’t that easy.

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“The bins are out tonight….jealous isn’t even the word, hope they all enjoy their night anyways”.

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HBO’s Run begins with a text to an ex and somersaults from there, landing somewhere between gleefully questionable judgment-land and a truly wild caper. Officially, the series is a romantic comedy thriller, but it’s also a reteaming of a creative-dynamic duo, Vicky Jones and Phoebe Waller-Bridge, after their Fleabag and Killing Eve successes. They co-executive produce (along with Kate Dennis), and the show pairs Domhnall Gleeson and Merritt Wever as two college exes (Billy and Ruby), who previously made a pact that it was alright to send a feeler text, and if the other responded, they’d drop their lives and meet at Grand Central Station and barrel across the U.S. together.

Sounds messy and complicated, right? Oh yes, very much so. Fortunately, Gleeson and Wever’s characters are complex creations as written by Jones, who has shown us on multiple occasions (including her work on Fleabag) that she adores crafting flawed characters. And speaking of women who enjoy embodying such flaws, Waller-Bridge features as a type of character that you’ve never seen her play before now. We spoke with Jones about this re-pairing of the minds, so to speak, along with the rambunctious ride taken by Billy and Ruby on their journey to unknown relationship frontiers.

A lot of people are going to start thinking about this show with this basic question: “Is it a good idea to text your ex?” So…. is it?

Oh, I mean…. [laughs]. It’s so interesting that the show goes back in time and explores revisiting people we remember and who knew each other well. I think there are questions to think about, like, “What if we’ve ended up with this person or that person, and where would I be now?” Or “are you more yourself with one person than another or a happier version of yourself?” And “can you revisit that?” And whether people are perfect for each other in an innate sense. We change over time, and who we found is context-in-time specific. So I don’t know, I’m interested in the question very much of, “Should we ever go back and knock on past doors, or should you just leave it and live in the moment?” Probably the last one.

This is no typical ex-texting, though. They kinda agreed to this, back in the day.

There’s a pact, yeah.

Do you know, in your mind, whose idea the pact was?

Ooh. I don’t know for sure, but future seasons might explore that. I suspected that it was the one who insisted upon breaking up. So it feels to me like it was something of a conciliatory gesture. Like, “Don’t worry, we just can’t be together now.” I feel like it was Ruby. She was the stronger one back then. She was the one who was doing so well, and flying in her studies, and so on. I think she felt like she didn’t need to be held down by a relationship, and I think that she lived to regret that very much. It probably came from her that they should separate with that pact, and for her heart and for her sanity, and that she needed to believe that.

Ruby has a great line: “Who does this?” I think a lot of people would want to do it but wouldn’t do it. Do you think people will have strong reactions to her actions?

Yeah, especially because of her home context, right? But I think that’s right. I think most people wouldn’t do that, and I feel like we do think about it, and we might feel guilty for thinking about it. That’s what drama’s for, to explore what happens to someone who does it. I don’t think she’s the sort of person who would do this either. She would never do this, and yet, she has, and I really wanted to investigate that. What happens to the people who would never do the extreme thing, and one day do, and what emotions does that create? And how does that affect their behavior, and how real can we make that feel? It’s kind-of a virtual reality, it’s an experiential watching experience.

We don’t want to spoil Ruby or Billy’s lives because you painstakingly unfold that as things go along. How difficult was it for you to put together those pieces? Like with Billy’s profession and how that factors into his decisions.

It took a really long time because we really wanted this to be complex, and the minute that you make a decision about them, there’s a judgment that comes with that. Before we find out that Billy’s being a life guru, he’s an idiot, and I really don’t want him to be [an idiot] at all. I think he isn’t in terms of the character that we’ve created, and Domhnall’s created, so beautiful. He’s an eloquent, thoughtful, emotional individual. He’s actually very good at talking to people about their lives, and he’s thought quite carefully, and he’s not mindless, but the act of him telling people how to think and how to be certainly can spiral. In finding the complexity in the character of Ruby, she has a life that is very domestic and good from the outside, but she’s incredibly unhappy and frustrated and has a huge inner life. It’s in finding the complexities as a woman, how she can love her home and yet walk away from it. And a man who can be very gregarious and be quite confident in his acts and other ways.

Mad Men‘s Rich Sommer does a bang-up job as Ruby’s husband, after playing a different type of husband on GLOW. How did he end up on this show?

Oh, we were so lucky. We couldn’t think of anyone else, and he wanted to do it, and it was one of those lovely parts of the casting project. Rich is just perfect, he’s so lovable at the same time that you can see that he might have an edge. You can see those connections as well. He’s wonderful, and we wanted it to be like, “Ruby, what you doing?” And at the same time, we didn’t want him to be an asshole because that would have made the whole thing more simple to judge and watch.

You can tell that he’s conflicted in so many layered ways, it’s unreal. Now when it comes to Phoebe’s character, god, that was funny. How did you decide what type of character she would play?

I think we both wanted her to play something that she actually hadn’t played before.

Well, you nailed that goal.

And this sort-of mysterious loner-in-the-woods character came about. This woman who has a very unexpected career but who’s also very grounded in other ways. You don’t really know what she wants at first. She’s quite interesting to watch because you’re not quite sure, and that unfolds in different ways, and Phoebe’s always open to collaborating.

With Fleabag, people talked about how it brought difficult or unlikable women to the forefront and dispensed with that issue. Do you feel like Run fits into that same theme with your writing?

Absolutely. I hope to explore that sense of writing characters who are flawed, and that’s more interesting to watch and understandable. I’ve talked a little bit before about writing about men and women in these situations, and how that blows up any biases you have and attitudes of misogyny and judgments about how a woman should and shouldn’t behave and what she should and shouldn’t say. And it’s very important to be conscious of that and to challenge that and have a female character who is incredibly flawed not only in actions but her behavior as well. You want the opportunity to create someone who is wild and complicated funny and flawed in all the best ways. And very human.

HBO’s ‘Run’ premieres on Sunday, April 12 at 10:30pm EST.