Bupkis Review: An Aimless, Meandering Comedy Struggling To Find Itself

The new Peacock series "Bupkis" is almost working overtime from the get-go to inure itself from any serious criticism. The title alone puts you in mind of something not worth expending much effort upon, but each of the eight episodes begins with a title card and accompanying voiceover essentially shielding co-creator, co-writer, and star Pete Davidson from any serious attacks, specifying that while the series may be inspired by fact, it is still very much a fictional product. "It's bupkis," is the closing sentence of the title card, and the tone of the narrator communicates a sense that none of this is worth getting worked up over. That title card ends up being a sign that expectations are best lowered when approaching the streaming series that presents a skewed version of the life of the very famous stand-up comedian/sketch performer, and also a sign that "Bupkis" is a scattershot, tonally inconsistent, and barely fitfully funny series walking a path that other shows have already mapped out with more creativity.

"Bupkis" follows very much in the footsteps of series such as "Atlanta," "Master of None," and "Louie," with the latter two being most recognizable in this show's creative DNA. Both of those shows are distinctive products from their well-known multihyphenate lead performers, with "Louie" going as far as "Bupkis" does, with said lead performer playing a version of themselves. (Though Aziz Ansari feels like he's playing a facsimile of himself, Louis CK and Davidson are literally playing themselves.) And, of course, Ansari and CK are controversial figures, even if the controversy occurred most notably after their respective series aired. 

Pete Davidson is as well-known for his work on "Saturday Night Live" as he is for his various celebrity dalliances and drug addiction, a fact that "Bupkis" recognizes from the get-go. But the get-go of this series is to repel viewers as much as invite them in, as we see Pete attempting to experience porn via an Oculus only to get caught by his mother (Edie Falco) in a very compromising position. In a way, it's gratifying to know that "Bupkis" is never quite as repellent or lewd in its humor as in the opening stretch of the first episode. (I've seen all eight installments.) 

But the flip side is that "Bupkis" ends up being very inconsistent, not only from episode to episode, but from scene to scene. Some of the shifts are intentional, clearly — the title of each episode is presented in a different style, and a couple of the episodes are filmed to evoke different styles too. (One episode is a riff on "The Fast and the Furious," and another is shot primarily in black-and-white.) 

The end result is a show that has a few enjoyable pieces, but only so many. One reason why "Bupkis" made news when it was announced is the other regular performer, Oscar-winning legend Joe Pesci as Pete's grizzled grandfather, who Pete learns is facing a death sentence due to cancer. In the opening episode, learning that news makes Pete want to bond more with his grandpa Poppy, but that drive diminishes over the course of the season, less because of Pete's lack of focus and more because of the show's lack of focus.

The lack of focus is one of the few consistent aspects of "Bupkis," which can make for an enervating experience. It's especially baffling because the show displays a fairly impressive amount of self-awareness, from Davidson and his co-creators Judah Miller and Dave Sirus. There are plenty of references to Davidson's tabloid-ridden experiences, an entire episode dedicated to Pete trying to update his Wikipedia page so that the profile picture is no longer an unflattering paparazzi snap of him, and acknowledgments of his past work. (Consider when Pete's mom snaps at someone that "Marisa Tomei played me!" in reference to "The King of Staten Island.") 

But there's also an aimless, drifting sense to some of the episodes, from head-scratching character choices to unfunny creative decisions that peter out. An episode that jumps between timelines — first, with a young Pete just a couple weeks after 9/11, struggling to move on past the death of his father, an NYFD first responder; and second, with a present-day Pete and his uncle Tommy — approaches genuine emotion, but then skitters away before too long.

The one thing that "Bupkis" does consistently is litter the sidelines of the series with plenty of A-list guest stars. Some of them are comedian friends either playing themselves (the series highlight is a late-season scene with Davidson and his pal John Mulaney, riffing on a very famous action film), or playing exaggerated characters as when Charlie Day plays Pete's psychiatrist. And others are just famous folks playing themselves briefly, such as Al Gore, J.J. Abrams, Jon Stewart, and Ray Romano. Some of the guest spots work, either because they're predictably funny or surprisingly so (the latter is true of Romano's multi-episode appearance). And some of them border on the frustrating, as in an episode dominated by an outlandish Florida man played by Simon Rex of "Red Rocket". (The issue is less Rex's performance and more what the script demands of him.) 

And through it all, there's Pete Davidson, standing around almost idly, floating from premise to premise with barely a care in the world. Some of that floating feels intentional, but it doesn't excuse the series for being so adrift. He has decent chemistry with just about everyone in the series without displaying a great deal of range beyond what he's presented before. It all feels by design — this is a show not quite about nothing a la "Seinfeld," but it's deliberately not attempting to be some grand statement on Pete Davidson's life or his fame. "Bupkis" is just ... there. It's just lying there, and will arrive on Peacock all at once, perhaps guaranteeing that it won't have an impact beyond a day or two. The potential remains present, but there's no intent to execute upon that potential here.

All eight episodes of "Bupkis" will premiere on Peacock on Thursday, May 4, 2023.