There's so much to admire, even enjoy, in Men of a Certain Age, I just wish the show was somehow less relentless

by Ken

I need to hear from people who've been watching TNT's Men of a Certain Age, with Ray Romano, Andre Braugher, and Scott Bakula as high school buddies in their late 40s treading uneasily toward the 50 mark. For the record, it isn't absolutely clear to all of them just how late in their 40s they are. Joe (Ray R), the owner of a party store, newly separated with two children, insists he's just turned 47 and has to be corrected -- he's actually 48.

I've watched all three episodes now, and it wasn't without some difficulty -- not because it's badly done. In fact, the problem stems in good part from the fact that it's quite well done. Ray, who's a creator, producer, and writer of the show, is clearly serious about his character, who seems to me totally believable and far from unsympathetic.

There's something deeply unsettling about the combination of his obsessiveness to detail over which he really has very little control and which rarely matters much and his obliviousness to so much that really does matter, over which he has quite a lot of control, not least the gambling addiction that seems to have played a major role in ruining his marriage. Of course, people who have such addictions really do feel powerless to overcome them, and Joe's seemingly senseless inability to just stop it is one of the most persuasive portrayals I've seen of what it feels (and looks) like to be powerless against such a compulsion. If you look at it rationally, it seems preposterous; there's no earthly reason for Joe to keep getting sucked in. But of course his powerlessness against it has nothing to do with rationality, and I'm finding it almost unbearably painful to watch. If it weren't so unbelievable, it wouldn't be anywhere near so hard to watch.

Terry (Scott B) is the least unhappy of the trio in his slide toward obscurity, with his much superior abiltiy to take life as it comes, especially since he, unlike the others, has no responsibilities to anyone but himself. His acting career may be in decline (he can't seem to get a decent audition, let alone an acting job), but he manages to make ends meet somehow without much stress, and perhaps more important to his friends is never at a loss for a sex partner. And yet, as little as Terry is given to introspection as Terry is, he clearly has moments -- of seemingly increasing frequency and severity -- in which his life seems intolerable. There's a horribly painful plot line in which he successfully tracks down the driver who ran a stop sign and by sheer luck only brushed his car. He tracks him down, rings his doorbell, and has no idea what to do from there, no idea what will make it right, or better. It's as if there is this growing itch, or ache, inside him, that is intruding more and more on his reality, and about which he has no idea what to do.

At least Owen (Andre B, coming off his riveting performance as House's psychiatrist) has a relatively happy home life -- if he ever gets his home back in order from the renovations he and his wife (the excellent LisaGay Hamilton, who was Rebecca on The Practice) are doing. He's stuck, as he approaches that sensitive age, seriously out of shape, in a job he hates, working in the fiercely competitive environment of his dictatorial father's Chevy dealership. The word "trapped" springs to mind for all of these people.

I notice that in the show's promotional material there's a lot of talk about humor, and I guess it's there, just as it is in real life. But at least for me, it doesn't seem to lighten the load. I'm wondering how other viewers are coping. I don't want the show to be unfaithful to the premises it has set up, suddenly turning all happy. Still, I think of a show like Six Feet Under, which managed to be not a whole lot cheerier while still making the journey somehow less exhausting. Meanwhile, there's so much I like about the show, I guess I'll just have to tough it out.

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