Louie is a comedy filtered through the observational humor of Louis C.K. Each episode puts a spotlight on Louis' hectic life as a successful stand-up comedian and newly single father raising his two daughters.Free Download Video Louie 19th July 2012 Episode On ABC Family Tv Online Tv Live Streaming Video. Online Watch Louie Full Episode Watch Stream HD Video on Internet TV.The single-camera comedy is a mix of Louis C.K.'s stand-up comedy and scripted short films.Part 1 of 2. Louie searches for love.Dane Cook, Ricky Gervais, Joan Rivers, Jerry Seinfeld guest star in the third season of the Louie C.K. comedy series.These thoughts buzzed in my brain as I watched the first two episodes of Charlie Sheen’s return to television, a faux-edgy sitcom so unimaginative and dull that it makes Two and a Half Men look like a beacon of artistic integrity. That Anger Management would air in the same two-hour block as FX’s innovative Louie — which I’ll praise in a moment — seems downright perverse, like hanging a Degas next to a Dumpster. It’s a shame, really. Sheen has sunk so low in the public’s estimation that he could have taken serious artistic risks, failed miserably, and still have won points for trying.
The venue is FX, which built its brand on shows about working-class alpha males flaming out (Rescue Me, Sons of Anarchy, Justified) and middle-class doofuses stumbling toward dignity (It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Wilfred, Louie).
The star is Sheen, whose long history of carousing, substance abuse, and domestic violence morphed into hellish performance art last year. After getting fired from Two and a Half Men — not for threatening to stab his wife during a Christmas altercation, mind you, but for publicly insulting his boss, showrunner Chuck Lorre, which in America is the greater crime — Sheen pocketed a fortune and became an icon of nihilistic hedonism. He staged a “Violent Torpedo of Truth” tour and appeared in a Fiat commercial that celebrated him as rakish antihero. No modern celebrity has been so handsomely rewarded for being a douchebag.
Anger Management — about a divorced ex-ballplayer who ruined his career and marriage with rage, then reinvented himself as a therapist — is less a comedy than a low-cost, high-yield investment. Sheen has said this will be his last project before retiring from acting; under an innovative deal, if FX renews Anger Management after ten episodes, it is contractually required to order another 90, which means instant syndication money.
No wonder the show is so unadventurous: Everyone’s afraid of killing the golden goose. Sheen’s Charlie Goodson is the mildest character he’s played in ages, a recovering rageaholic helping patients who haven’t attained his level of enlightenment. “Anger took away something I really loved, and I’m here to try to keep that from happening to you,” he tells a group that meets in the suburban house that he shares with his teenage daughter, Sam (Daniela Bodabilla).
The show’s writer-director-star, Louis C.K., who plays the show’s divorced stand-up-comedian hero, has become the Woody Allen of TV, so it makes sense that he’d hire Allen’s regular editor, Susan E. Morse, to cut the series. After flirting with schlemieldom in seasons one and two, the first five episodes of season three find the character going full putz.
The result plays like a hybrid of Allen’s pre–Annie Hall movies and Philip Roth’s self-lacerating autobiographical fiction. It’s as if middle-aged ennui and extended mourning for a long-dead marriage have sparked a kind of reverse puberty in Louie.
Stripped of confidence and romantic hope, he nurses a man-crush on a Miami lifeguard and ogles women like a mouth-breathing teenage geek. (His ex-wife, Tammy, seen on-camera for the first time, is played by African-American actress Susan Kelechi Watson; between that detail and Louie’s half-Mexican lineage, which also gets a workout this season, the show seems to take special pride in confounding labels.)
The venue is FX, which built its brand on shows about working-class alpha males flaming out (Rescue Me, Sons of Anarchy, Justified) and middle-class doofuses stumbling toward dignity (It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Wilfred, Louie).
The star is Sheen, whose long history of carousing, substance abuse, and domestic violence morphed into hellish performance art last year. After getting fired from Two and a Half Men — not for threatening to stab his wife during a Christmas altercation, mind you, but for publicly insulting his boss, showrunner Chuck Lorre, which in America is the greater crime — Sheen pocketed a fortune and became an icon of nihilistic hedonism. He staged a “Violent Torpedo of Truth” tour and appeared in a Fiat commercial that celebrated him as rakish antihero. No modern celebrity has been so handsomely rewarded for being a douchebag.
Anger Management — about a divorced ex-ballplayer who ruined his career and marriage with rage, then reinvented himself as a therapist — is less a comedy than a low-cost, high-yield investment. Sheen has said this will be his last project before retiring from acting; under an innovative deal, if FX renews Anger Management after ten episodes, it is contractually required to order another 90, which means instant syndication money.
No wonder the show is so unadventurous: Everyone’s afraid of killing the golden goose. Sheen’s Charlie Goodson is the mildest character he’s played in ages, a recovering rageaholic helping patients who haven’t attained his level of enlightenment. “Anger took away something I really loved, and I’m here to try to keep that from happening to you,” he tells a group that meets in the suburban house that he shares with his teenage daughter, Sam (Daniela Bodabilla).
The show’s writer-director-star, Louis C.K., who plays the show’s divorced stand-up-comedian hero, has become the Woody Allen of TV, so it makes sense that he’d hire Allen’s regular editor, Susan E. Morse, to cut the series. After flirting with schlemieldom in seasons one and two, the first five episodes of season three find the character going full putz.
The result plays like a hybrid of Allen’s pre–Annie Hall movies and Philip Roth’s self-lacerating autobiographical fiction. It’s as if middle-aged ennui and extended mourning for a long-dead marriage have sparked a kind of reverse puberty in Louie.
Stripped of confidence and romantic hope, he nurses a man-crush on a Miami lifeguard and ogles women like a mouth-breathing teenage geek. (His ex-wife, Tammy, seen on-camera for the first time, is played by African-American actress Susan Kelechi Watson; between that detail and Louie’s half-Mexican lineage, which also gets a workout this season, the show seems to take special pride in confounding labels.)