If you were to ask A-list movie stars (and “True Detective” co-stars) Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey, they’re close enough to be brothers. So close, in fact, that they’ve long stoked a theory that they might be biological siblings in real life; after all, McConaughey’s mother has alleged to be intimate with Harrelson’s dad around the time baby Matthew was conceived. This kind of tall tale is the stuff of pop culture mythmaking, stoked, of course, by the sort of fan who simply likes the symmetry of Hollywood’s favorite sons of the South being as close in real life as they are on screen. But that kind of rumor doesn’t always translate into sizzling television, as the Apple TV vanity project “Brothers” bears out.
Created by “Schitt’s Creek” writer David West Read (and taken over by comedy vet Lee Eisenberg halfway through production; always a good sign), “Brothers” plops the two Oscar-caliber movie stars (though McConaughey teases Woody that he’s never won one) into a sunny, “Grace and Frankie”-style streaming sitcom format in which the two play fictionalized versions of themselves. The broad strokes seem to fit, at least insofar as we know the Hollywoodized myths of the men: McConaughey is an enigmatic, wily philosopher-king who pontificates just like he does in those Lincoln ads, while Harrelson is a self-described anarchist who prides himself on his laid-back, weed-and-sandals way of life.
Despite this, the two are lifelong best friends, to the point where, when Woody’s oldest daughter Olive (Highdee Kuan) calls off her engagement, he decides to pack the whole fam—including Olive, wife Joy (Brittany Ishibashi), and adoptive kids Kai (Oona Yaffe) and Clara (Ella Grace Helton)—into their converted RV and pull up at the McConaughey’s palatial Hollywood estate for an extended spell. Just in time, too, to help stoke Mac’s ambitions of running for governor of Texas, just as he’s mourning the recent loss of his father.
It’s there, though, that Ma Mac (Holland Taylor), Matthew’s stylish, ornery grandma, lets slip to Woody the factoid that kicked off this whole show in the first place: He and Mac might be brothers. (Each episode kicks off with the ever-so-clever tagline “Based on a True Rumor.”)
From there, though, “Brothers” plays out largely like a big-budget streaming edition of “Full House,” with a few splashes of Hollywood metacommentary bubbling in there. To their credit, McConaughey and Harrelson’s real-life chemistry translates nicely here to the show’s conceit: Put the two of them in a scene together, and they can make the tritest sitcom concept sing. Problem is, much of the show involves throwing them into the hokiest scenarios a million sitcoms have trod before. Oh no, they forgot to get their wives something on Valentine’s Day! Gee, how will Mac help his sensitive, therapized son Wyatt (Nolan Almeida) through his first high school dance?
It doesn’t help, of course, that the rest of the family struggles to make much of an impression. The youngest kids, Clara and Mac’s son River (Noah Carganilla), get little to do besides say the occasional darndest thing, and the older kids get wrapped up in samey sitcom drama (including a budding romance between Kai and Wyatt, whose relationship throws a wrinkle into the series’ yearning to put Woody and Mac under the same family tree). Taylor, though, is always a delight to watch, even if she only gets one note to play for much of the show. The real standouts, though, come from guest players like Lisa Gilroy (“Super Troopers 3“) who plays Mac’s bizarre, shark-like campaign manager, or Skyler Gisondo as a late-in-show addition who, like his character in “The Righteous Gemstones,” is an outsider desperate to make inroads with the Harrelson family.
Watching “Brothers” can be a frustrating experience, as this obviously overqualified cast pinballs from one hokey scenario to the next. It’s hard not to watch scenes where McConaughey and Harrelson step in dog poop and think, “Aren’t these guys movie stars?” And yet, scenes are leavened by the occasional solid dig at these two guys’ inflated egos, like Harrelson’s militant veganism or McConaughey’s faux-folksy demeanor running into the real questions of an ordinary person. But as the series progresses, the mileage starts to run out on these self-effacing prods, especially once we start trotting out the Wooderson haircut and the literal car from “Dazed and Confused.” (I’m honestly shocked we get no “Cheers” references, considering this is Harrelson’s return to sitcoms.)
Eisenberg is old hat in this kind of comic series, and it shows in some of “its “Brothers”‘ more entertaining moments. But it feels like West Read had something more “Schitt”-y in mind before he was replaced: caustic, bittersweet, something that deflated the sky-high personas of two of Hollywood’s most reliable stars. Here, that’s been softened to something fuzzier and more palatable, a lack of edge that feels antithetical to the kinds of projects both actors tend to take. Time may be a flat circle, but “Brothers” is just flat.
Full season screened for review. New episodes air weekly on Apple TV.
