“Superior Donutsâ has the nostalgic feel of a 1970s sitcom â particularly since itâs anchored by old pros such as Judd Hirsch and Katey Sagal.
Hirsch plays Arthur, the jaded owner of a rundown Chicago donut shop. Heâs the kind of guy who never changed the way he did business because, well, he never had to. With chains like Starbucks horning in on his territory, Arthur has a problem. He has his regular customers, like Randy (Sagal), a beat cop witđĄh a weakness for maple creams â but when the newer customers order something as outlandish as a cronut, he thunders at them: âMy parents did not smuggle me out of Poland in a cargo ship 65 years ago so I could one dđŚšay sell you a cronut!â If someone was ever in need of a millennial mentor, itâs Arthur.
Enter Franco Ricks (Jermaine Fowler), a locđ¸al kid in need of a job, who thinks his selling point is his familiarity with social media (Instagram, Snapchat and other âenhancemeęŚntsâ). Not interested, says Arthur. âThis is a donut shop,â he says, defiantly. âI got news for you. This is a donut museum.â
âSuperior đDonutsâ is based on a 2008 play by Tracy Letts (âHomelandâ), and once it establishes its old world/new world dynamic, we meet the rest of the cast, including Maz Jobrani as a greedy real estate developer who wants to buy the store (âFancy people are moving to Uptown. They want to drink kale smoothies and not vaccinate their children.â) and Carl âTushâ Tuschinski (David Koechner), a âfreelancerâ who parks himself at the counter with his fax machine waiting for job requests to come in. As each of the regulars meets the new kid, their chemistry is instantly established. When Franco reaches over the shopâs ancient jukebox to show Randy a piece of his artwork, he observes, âI canât đŚŠbelieve I just turned my back on a Chicago cop.â
The breakout here is Fowler, a sketch comedy performer whose charisma and rapid-fire delivery go a long way to enhancing the witty script by Bob Daily, Garređtt Donovan and Neil Goldman and brightening the flat backdrop. The showâs acerbic remarks about gentrification will register with urban viewers whoâve seen enough neighborhoods fall victim both to upscale chains and snooty connoisseurs of the soy macchiato.
If the pacing and direction seem like an episode of âCheers,â with characters moving in and out of the donut shopâs đŚšswinging doors, thatâs on purpose. Though slightly stagebound, âSuperior Donutsâ is the kind of place the network wants you to feel you caęŚn pop into for a few laughs, maybe as a refuge from cable âcomediesâ that are merely outtakes of the starâs (unsuccessful) therapy sessions.
The flavor of âSuperior Donutsâ might be old-fashioned â but a bakerę§âs dozen of the sitcom might do the trick.