Horace and Pete
“Horace and Pete is unlike anything you may have seen before. The closest comparison that one can make is to “Playhouse 90,” which was a television anthology drama that ran from 1956 to 1960, and featured hour and a half dramas that were filmed or were live, and looked like stage plays. That is the best way to describe this Louis CK independent production, as it is unlike his dramedy “Louie,” and is actually a tragedy, a discounted genre of old. Television is either drama, comedy, or a mixture, and there has never really been room for tragedy, a long dormant aspect of theater. In making these episodes (which range from thirty-some minutes to sixty) CK cobbled together a narrative that doesn’t supersede his previous work, and is its own strange anomaly in a world already full of eccentricities.
As CK explained to Marc Maron, on his podcast “WTF”, CK came to the idea for this show in the midst of an artistic Rumspringa, after becoming burned out on “Louie.” He came up with the characters, and then slowly figured out the backstory, the tragic nature of the brothers’ lives, and the themes of the series. In complete secrecy he wrote the scripts, hunted down talent from shows that had either ended or were on hiatus, and he found a shooting location before he even had a fully formed idea. What became the most important aspect of this process for CK, was that the show was released independently, so that he could create something that subverted the advertising platform that many streaming services have. CK had previously released specials in this way and asked people to contribute what they could, some even spending as little as one dollar. So, in complete secret, CK created this show, didn’t do any marketing, and released it without much ado. It was a stunning, yet confusing announcement, and while many flocked to the venture in curiosity, it completely bypassed many people’s short attention spans.
It kind of makes sense that CK would try to release it in this way. “Horace and Pete” is an unexplainable creation that has little mass appeal. You can’t really create a succinct trailer that truly gets at the meat of the story and unearths the strange and pointedly dark characters that the show dissects with clinical ease. No one really wants to watch tragedies, because they unearth truly vicious emotions that we often tacitly deny at all possible opportunities. The same might be said about “Louie,” a show that follows a single father in New York, who tries to balance his career as a stand-up comic, and his foible filled life. Although there’s some tragedy involved, this is a snapshot of CK’s own life, and therefore it can’t be completely tragic or else CK would have lost all hope years ago. These characters are completely detached from CK’s life, though it’s obvious where he also found some inspiration. There’s no happy ending and that’s what makes it a complete tragedy.
Oddly enough the premise follows two brothers who are the ninth generation of Horaces and Petes to own a bar of the same name. Among the supporting characters there are love interests, family members, old friends, and bar patrons. The talent of this show is stupendous, and includes the always versatile and insanely talented Edie Falco, the shape-shifting demi-goddess Jessica Lange, comedy legend Alan Alda, and newcomer Aidy Bryant, who is a featured player on SNL. The show deals with a carried through narrative of Horace and Pete finding out about their family’s history, reconnecting with their sister Sylvia (Falco), the death of their Uncle Pete (Alda), trying to find love again, and understanding the tragic machinations of their lives. Though there are larger story arcs, like Pete’s mental illness, Horace’s flawed relationship with his children, and Sylvia’s illness, the show also deals in small, rough moments that make the show finely unique.
CK actually created a schedule for the show that left open space for current political themes. Watching now, after the election is over, feels partially bittersweet. On the flip side it’s quite eerie to watch CK tap into the conscientiousness of our nation, which the liberal elite failed to do during the election cycle. Most of this banter comes from Kurt Metzger’s character, whose career has since become marred by his online comments about rape. These moments don’t always feel organic among the rest of the episode, which is dated by the Brooklyn bar’s ancient décor, and the characters’ penchant for nostalgia. Still, it makes the episodes feel personal, introspective, and that much more of a gift to us, the audience.
The best moments include one-on-one conversations between characters, with nothing else going on. There’s an obvious “My Dinner with Andre,” inspiration in these moments, because it’s just them, two people, simply talking. No real reasoning behind the choice. No ulterior motive or plot set-up. Just two adults conversing. One of the best scenes is between Horace and a one-night-stand from the bar. They begin talking about whether or not a transgendered woman has to disclose her previous gender before having sex, and you will be surprised where the conversation ends up.
Obviously most people have tuned in to see episode three, where Laurie Metcalf delivers a nine and a half minute monologue, in one shot, to Horace. The rest of the episode continues on from that story, and ends with a highly emotional performance from CK himself. Metcalf received an Emmy nomination for Outstanding Guest Actress, and an amazing amount of accolades from critics and audiences alike. This is what a TV show can do when it has little restrictions like “Horace and Pete.” You can show a nine minute long shot of a woman speaking uninterrupted, or half an episode that takes place in the seventies with the entire cast playing their now deceased family. You can have a character die four episodes in, or incorporate hipsters into a narrative about gentrification. Though many can say they don’t enjoy the seriousness of the show’s tone, you have to admit that this show accomplishes more than most dramas.
Currently you can buy the entire series from Louis CK for $31. In April he announced that he was cancelling the show after the tenth episode, most likely because he was “millions of dollars in debt,” as he told Howard Stern. This was before the show was nominated for two Emmys and he went back on the road with his stand-up, which spiked sales on his website. In June he said he still had ideas for the show and may be open to writing a season two, but only if inspiration comes. He’s also received interest from streaming services to buy the content, so it might appear on other platforms in the coming months. Anything can happen at this point, much like the actual creation of the show itself.