The pair don ridiculous costumes to prove people don’t tolerate their music just because they’re recognizable, and bicker about hunting (country boy McConaughey is pro, vegan Harrelson is con) on a drive in a keyed-up version of the “True Detective” car rides. This platonic — or perhaps filial — chemistry still isn’t enough to make “Brothers” feel like a real show instead of an overlong comedy sketch. Take Gwen, who’s consulting McConaughey on a run for governor.
The storyline is a nod to the star’s flirtation with political office, which got serious enough in 2022 to necessitate an announcement that he wouldn’t throw his hat in the ring. But it’s mostly a means to give McConaughey’s fictional avatar a more active plot driver than wondering whether he and Harrelson might be related. The gubernatorial bid certainly isn’t there because McConaughey feels the need to articulate any specific political beliefs, a vagueness “Brothers” gently mocks but also indulges.
Real-life Texas is in the middle of a highly contentious senate race; TV Texas is a world with no Greg Abbott, nor a president who’s already a cautionary tale in what happens when pop culture and politics collide. Acknowledging either might mean “Brothers” would have to be something weightier and more fleshed-out than a dopey (in a fun way!) hangout. A reluctance to get messy or in any way unflattering is a common quality of star-driven shows, and it’s seemingly magnified when two of them are portraying themselves.
Instead of real insight or self-scrutiny, we get surface-level references to the friends’ filmographies. (These callbacks are oddly skewed toward McConaughey’s CV over Harrelson’s, perhaps because the show takes place on his turf.) The “True Detective” theme plays as a character collects samples for a DNA test, while McConaughey lets his son River (Noah Carganilla) borrow his actual car from “Dazed and Confused” to play dress-up. These allusions rarely inspire a reaction stronger than an amused smile, nor do they try especially hard to do so. Holland Taylor cakes on makeup and thick layers of twang as McConaughey’s mother, known to all as “Ma Mac,” whose drunken ramblings prompt Harrelson to do some genetic detective work.
No one else makes as strong an impression. In particular, the wives — their show names are Valentina (Natalie Martinez) and Joy (Brittany Ishibashi), but their role and function is accurately summed up as “the wives” — are given almost nothing to do besides roll their eyes at their husbands’ antics. Woody and Matthew forgot about Valentine’s Day?
The kids get more stories of their own, though not ones that ever threaten to pull the spotlight away from their dads. The Harrelsons first set out for Austin (in a solar-powered converted schoolbus, of course) after Woody’s daughter Olive (Highdee Kuan) breaks off her engagement. While I’m always happy to see Skyler Gisondo of “The Righteous Gemstones,” who shows up halfway through the season as the ex-fiancé, he’s underused in a role whose definition stops at “clingy drip.” A romance between River and Olive’s sister Kai (Oona Yaffe) — carefully excused with repeated reminders that Kai is adopted, so there’s no way they’re doing incest — is equally thin.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
