22 Minutes I Can Never Get Back: Whitney

At the urging of my friend Amy, I am taking a break from movies to review the pilot of the new NBC sitcom, Whitney.  I knew from the commercials that I wanted to punch this show in the throat, so I reluctantly agreed that this would be a good vehicle for my brand of bitter commentary.

Whitney stars Whitney Cummings, a comedienne I have never really cared for the few times I’ve seen her talk.  Her style is crass and stereotypical without ever making it to funny, in my opinion.  Is her new sitcom more of the same schtick?  If you feel the motivation, let’s find out.


Whitney opens with Whitney and her boyfriend or husband or some man getting into high jinks in front of the bathroom mirror, the high point of which is the boyfriend pushing her arm while she’s applying eyeliner so it goes across her temple.   It degenerates into a scented spray product battle.  I assume Axe body spray is involved for both parties.  It develops that the pair is getting ready to attend a wedding.  Oh good, this should be absolutely devoid of tired gender stereotypes.  Whitney is wearing a ratty black hoodie over her dress because she always gets cold at weddings and has never ever heard of an actual cardigan sweater.  There is some joke about laser hair removal, I don’t know.  By the way, Whitney appears to be filmed in front of a live studio audience so I am going by their laughing to determine when an alleged joke has just happened.  Whitney’s attempting to wear a white dress to a wedding so her boyfriend has to school her on wedding apparel.  Whits opines that weddings are dumb.  I opine that this show is dumb.  She is finally dressed appropriately and they get out the door after she tries to get him to carry her purse and he refuses.  Certainly someone is going to have to make a stop for tampons soon.

At the wedding they encounter another couple and this man is carrying the woman’s purse.  Also they are wearing coordinating outfits because they are going to Prom and not a wedding.  The couple is really interested in playing tonsil hockey and maybe having sex in front of everyone.  Oh, sweet love.  Some other joke with some other friend.  I swear Amy owes me beer for this experience.  The wedding starts and everyone stands up for the bride and Whitney accidentally dumps her iPhone in her path.  And whoops the bride is wearing a yellow dress same as Whitney.  OH NO BAD BOYFRIEND ADVICE.

Ok whatever, dinner time and a gross police officer friend who appears to be the live-action version of Quagmire makes lewd jokes about everything.  WAIT BOUQUET TOSS ALL WOMEN GATHER!!!  Some blonde girl tries to chat up Whitney’s boyfriend and the matchy-matchy couple lady has caught the bouquet after a tussle with some other lady.

Ok, I need a legend here to keep all the annoying straight.


Whitney = Assertive?  No-nonsense?  Vulgar?  Dull?  Yes.
Whitney’s bf = lovable scruffy guy who half-heartedly tries not to be the whipped boyfriend
Matchy-matchy = Charlotte from Sex and the City who also thinks reading Cosmo is a valid use of time and wears her boyfriend like a trophy although for the life of me I can’t see why.
Divorced Friend = deadbeat husband cheated on her so she is tasked with all divorce/bad marriage jokes forever
Meathead = Quagmire the police officer who will be supplying all the HYUCK HYUCK I LOVE BROADS caveman humor

Ok, so there ensues a discussion of how often couples need to have sex in order to be successful couples and Whitney becomes consumed by doubt that she’s not banging her bf nearly enough.  This leads her down a road of tired jokes and cliches about sex and dating till she ends up at a sex shop where a scantily-leather-clad Asian woman is waiting to help her realize her sexytimes potential.

This is 12 minutes into the episode and I don’t have the tiniest bit of motivation to finish the remaining 10.  Peace out, Girl Scout.

My star ratings (out of 5):

WTF: 0.5
Actual quality: 1
So bad it swings around to awesome: 1.

This show is an affront to the rest of the NBC Thursday night lineup.  F-


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