The mysteries of mob mentality lurk beneath the surface of every sketch (will the onlookers side with lunacy or logic? It’s never predictable). Although you do unfortunately have to watch it on there.)Īs the title suggests, many sketches revolve around being wrong, weird or breaking social convention. (It also means the show is, blessedly, even further removed from the actual internet. Instead, Robinson transposes online behavioural patterns into the real world, where they seem even more bonkers – and disturbing. The aforementioned Instagram sketch is actually a bit of an outlier the majority don’t feature any technology at all. Yet I Think You Should Leave’s genius is that it goes one step beyond the cacophonous, absurdist style that has characterised much millennial comedy: the show also acts as release value for all this commotion by unpicking the forces behind it. Critics are already trying to predict which sketches from the second series will become established memes. A season-one skit in which a man in a hotdog outfit denies that the hotdog-shaped car lodged in a shop front is his, while loudly claiming “We’re all trying to find the guy who did this”, became the perfect Trump reaction meme, a neat encapsulation of flagrant hypocrisy, deflection and confected outrage. The show’s sketches have also re-entered the social media fray to much fanfare. ITYSL’s skits are full of strange, meme-friendly images, rarely have a conventional punchline and ricochet wildly between different subjects and tones, much like the average timeline. The absurdity, randomness and inversion of traditional joke logic that flies online has snuck on to TV under the veil of more traditional formats such as the sitcom (Stath Lets Flats’s bizarre malapropisms), the spoof chatshow (The Eric Andre Show’s bristling mania) and the sketch show. Shows are engineered to cut through the roiling information overload and to slot seamlessly into the din, as fodder for gifs, memes and no-context Twitter accounts. Over the past decade, television comedy has been gradually reshaped in the internet’s image – and I Think You Should Leave is no exception. It’s an antidote, in other words, to the internet itself.” Alongside Bo Burnham’s recent Netflix special, Inside – a musical-comedy extravaganza about the ludicrous and corrosive nature of screen-based life – the show feels like the start of a brand new era: post-internet comedy. In Wired this year, the writer Peter Rubin described the show as “a condemnation of facade. But I Think You Should Leave – which returned for a much-lauded second season this week – does it in practically every sketch, drilling down into the absurdity of online interaction, and, in doing so, exposes the half-obscured egomania and self-interest that drives it. In fact, TV comedy that mines laughs from the warped ways people behave online is vanishingly rare. You might think the vortex of narcissism, desperation and mindless rote behaviour that characterises many people’s Instagram use would be an obvious, not to say rather tired, subject for satire by now. Load my frickin’ lard carcass into the mud, no coffin please, just wet, wet mud. If I died tomorrow no one would shed a tear. “Slopping down some pig-shit with these fat fucks, and I’m the fattest of them all. But one of the party can’t get to grips with this odd internet etiquette. In it, a trio of brunching women decide to post an attractive picture of themselves on Instagram, accompanied by an obligatory and utterly transparent self-deprecating caption, “so it doesn’t look like you’re just bragging”. But either way, being just a long weekend away from more of the show is welcome news, indeed.In the first season of I Think You Should Leave, Tim Robinson’s superlative Netflix show, there’s a sketch that made me laugh more than any joke I have ever seen on social media. Perhaps that will drop before the July 6 return of I Think You Should Leave. That sequence contained a ton of hits, though the meme-filled show did have too many songs to fit in there: “The Day That Robert Palins Murdered Me” was nowhere to be seen. We already saw a bit of this last month, as part of a medley of songs from Robinson and Sam Richardson along with musician Phredley Brown. Conner O’Malley’s character is more than willing to oblige, setting up one of the weirder sketches of the season that culminated in an equally touching and bizarre burial scene in a cemetery. From the fourth episode of the first season, the sketch features Robinson driving in a car with a bumper sticker that says “honk if you’re horny” on it. “Friday Night,” of course, is all about the limitless potential of an evening that kicks off the weekend. I think you should leave turbo team July 2, 2021
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