"Eastbound & Down" a boorishly irreverent comedy

By Ray Richmond

LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - At a time when even a PBS salute to George Carlin can be scrubbed of naughty language with bleeps and self-censorship, it's refreshing to see a comedy as divertingly politically incorrect as HBO's new "Eastbound & Down," about a self-destructive Major League ballplayer who has hit rock bottom.

What's initially so sublimely hilarious about the series, which premieres Sunday, is its protagonist's utterly clueless refusal to conform to polite society, and yet he's somehow likable -- lewd-crude hubris and all. Credit the performance of Danny McBride, a budding star whose 2006 comedy feature "The Foot Fist Way" is something of an indie classic and who has since been embraced on the mainstream theatrical comedy circuit with roles in "Tropic Thunder" and "Pineapple Express."

McBride makes it clear in the premiere that he will spare no foul-mouthed rant or offensive diatribe in depicting an arrogant anti-hero of monumental self-delusion and hostility. It's the kind of work that could single-handedly land HBO back on the comedy map it has struggled to revisit since "Sex and the City" blew town.

In the pilot -- co-written by McBride, Ben T. Best and Jody L. Hill -- McBride is Kenny Powers, a big-league fastball pitcher who quickly flames out in a drug-addled blur of nastiness and limitless egomania. Fresh out of options, Kenny is now back in his North Carolina hometown living with his older brother, Dustin (John Hawkes), and struggling to come to grips with how quickly it's all come apart.

Worst of all, he's now facing the indignity of teaching phys-ed at his old middle school, where former flame April (Katy Mixon) is an art teacher who's engaged to the impossibly dopey principal Terrence (Andrew Daly). But this development alters Kenny's tactless behavior not at all. He's a gargantuan loser trying his damnedest to masquerade as a megastar on hiatus -- and the less he acknowledges the bitter truth, the funnier it is.

What further elevates the half-hour is the deadpan, deer-in-the-headlights fashion in which his co-stars orbit around McBride, from his shell-shocked sister-in-law (Jennifer Irwin) to an overly indulgent brother to everyone at his new school in a town that doesn't know whether to lock Kenny in a dungeon or simply humor him. The anxiety of people struggling to act normal in the eye of a human hurricane gives "Eastbound & Down" much of its fuel. The rest is supplied by McBride, who seems instinctively to understand that being a delirious bastard means never having to say you're sorry. May he live long and prosper.

(Editing by Dean Goodman at Reuters)