“Shenanigan”: Fitzrovia Fracas or Blandly Benevolent Brits? Jury’s Out on Sitcom So Nice It Hurts
Brace yourselves, fellow comedy connoisseurs, for a sitcom arrival as peculiar as a sourdough starter named Mrs Vennet. Meet “Shenanigan,” a show lauded by some as a modern-day Frasier set in the hipster haven of Fitzrovia, but whispered by others to be the comedic equivalent of a lukewarm oat latte. Yes, it’s a tale of quirky Londoners navigating life’s little eccentricities, but buckle up, because these eccentricities are about as sharp as a butter knife.
At the heart of “Shenanigan” lies Barnaby Featherbottom, a vintage typewriter repairman with a penchant for corderoy waistcoats and obscure poetry readings. Think Niles Crane with less snobbery and more existential angst fueled by fair-trade Earl Grey. Barnaby’s foil is his bubbly neighbor, Pippa Plumtree, a yoga instructor who believes kombucha cures the common cold and misplacing your reusable tote bag is a social sin. Think Elaine Benes without the neurotic edge and with a wardrobe curated entirely from organic hemp.
Rounding out the cast are Clementine Cavendish, a baker obsessed with gluten-free sourdough (the show’s tagline should be “No gluten, no guffaws”), and Reginald Thistlethwaite, a retired taxidermist with a passion for cross-stitching portraits of hamsters. Yes, you read that right, hamsters.
The show revolves around their “hilarious” misadventures, from Barnaby accidentally dyeing his mustache the color of turmeric to Pippa mistaking an alpaca yoga pose for a particularly advanced downward-facing dog. Prepare for witty banter like, “Oh Clementine, your sourdough starter is positively effervescent!” and “Reginald, I do say, that hamster portrait captures their existential ennui perfectly!”
Now, where “Shenanigan” promises Frasier-esque wit, it delivers teacup-tier chuckles. The humor is gentler than a baby bunny wearing ballet slippers, and the conflicts as mild as a disagreement over the proper brewing temperature of artisanal tea. While some find this soothingly quaint, others yearn for a comedic kick stronger than a flat white with extra oat milk.
But there’s a charm to “Shenanigan,” an undeniable sweetness that might just melt your cynical heart. It’s like watching your grandparents try stand-up, their earnest jokes delivered with a twinkle in their eye and a pot of chamomile tea on the burner. It’s the sitcom equivalent of a warm hug, a gentle reminder that life can be funny even without punchlines that pack a punch.
So, will “Shenanigan” conquer the comedy airwaves or become a footnote in the Netflix library of forgotten shows? Only time will tell. But one thing’s for sure: it’s a sitcom so nice, it hurts… your funny bone, that is. Unless, of course, you find existential angst over spilled chai latte side-splittingly hilarious. In that case, “Shenanigan” awaits you with open arms (and a steaming mug of artisanal chamomile). Just don’t ask for a double shot of espresso – this show prefers its humor slow-brewed and served with a smile.