Party Down review: A revival that feels like season 15, for better and worse

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Party Down was an exciting show about bored people. Most of them hated their job. Some hated themselves. No one was having fun yet. Drudgery backgrounds any workplace sitcom, but the catering comedy dug a special career hellhole. A cast of only-stupendous actors played Hollywood has-beens and almost-gonnas serving drinks and 'derves with fake smiles. Starz' revival (premiering Feb. 24) brings back every non-Caplan for more event-planned hysteria. The years since 2010's season 2 finale have taken a toll on the characters, though some bad-to-worse storylines clash with a new light-hearted gloss. It's funny enough, and peppier than it should be. This Party Down parties up.

The six-episode season premieres with a reunion-within-a-reunion. Doofus actor-model Kyle (Ryan Hansen) finally gets a big break in a big screen "extended universe." He hires old boss Ron (Ken Marino) to throw a celebration and invites some old colleagues. Henry (Adam Scott) left acting long ago for a regular-type life and a normal-ish job. Zany Constance (Jane Lynch) and daffy Lydia (Megan Mullally) remain showbiz-adjacent, with side hustles that have impressively paid off. Writer Roman (Martin Starr) is more dour than ever, probably because he's the only one still working for Ron. (Lizzy Caplan doesn't appear in the five episodes made available to critics, though her comedian Casey lingers in an unexpected way.)

You notice only a couple Party Downers work at Party Down. That's authentic professional drift — and a potential problem for a series rigidly structured around one gig per episode. Co-creator John Enbom repopulates with Jackson (Tyrel Jackson Williams) and Lucy (Zoë Chao). He wants to be an influencer and she's an artsy chef; nobody likes influencers and her cuisine is post-food. I just explained most of their jokes, but both performances are charming. And there is Evie (Jennifer Garner), the wonderful and gorgeous and kind and did I say wonderful lady Henry meets at Kyle's bash.

Party Down
Party Down

Colleen Hayes/Starz 'Party Down'

Calamity and happenstance lead most former coworkers back to their pink bowties. That could be a limp sequel strategy. Worth remembering, though, that Henry's entire series-premiere subplot was backsliding into catering. Scott announced himself as a TV star back then playing bitter irrelevance with low-key romantic charm. Henry was haunted by his one brush with success, already washed up back to bartending gigs in his 30s.

A different flavor of midlife weariness powers the new episodes. Roman still carries himself like an undiscovered genius, but another undiscovered decade has left him with gray hairs and carpal tunnel. Ron is now a business owner (yay!) who smells like he lives in a van (he does.) "This is not how I envisioned my 40s," Henry admits, in that deadpan-sweet Adam Scott way, like he's walking around with an invisible sitcom audience going awwwwww. In 2009, Henry was disappointed about missing fame and fortune. Now he'd settle for not needing two jobs to pay the bills.

And Constance and Lydia are still kooky, because they are Jane Lynch and Megan Mullally. Wedging everybody in requires narrative gesticulation. The original run lived and died on an open-door policy, replacing Lynch when Glee called and fading completely after Scott got Parks & Recreation. (Caplan being too busy for Party Down is the most Party Down thing about this revival.) But Garner's movie producer just sort of keeps on appearing at parties for steadily less logical reasons. The particular dynamic she sparks with Scott feels forced. She's a stable pixie dream woman with Relationship Issues. I miss Casey and Henry falling into each other through generalized cigarette-break inertia.

The episodic structure still sings. Each event becomes screwball one-act with different chaos ensembles. James Marsden has a blast as a big-time actor whose surprise birthday goes awry. Nick Offerman confirms himself as a guest-star ninja in a smirky-weirdo role that requires multiple (solid!) Hitler jokes. Judy Reyes and Bobby Moynihan are unreal funny in a twisty episode where the caterers take mushrooms.

Everybody Does Drugs is the kind of plot concept you expect from, like, season 15. Party Down barely had a life, but its brief run somehow felt classier and grungier than that kind of sitcom norm. 2009 also saw the premieres of Parks and Modern Family, plus the Office phase when irritating coworkers were dancing wedding choreography. Mockumentary realism was sliding toward old-fashioned farce. As a low-rated budget series on the other other premium cable network, Party Down maintained an inside-outsider sensibility, runty and ground level even when the characters hot-tubbed with Steve Guttenberg. Some jokes and whole episodes don't play now, but in both linear time and comedic style, the first two seasons feel like the midpoint between Entourage and The Bear, dappling celebrity-guest SoCal starshine on food service last-chancers.

Of course, the linear flow of time broke down long ago in TV history. Since 2010, Party Down co-creator Rob Thomas resurrected Veronica Mars twice and Mullally re-headlined three additional seasons of Will & Grace. Jesus, Night Court's back. I'll take any revival that doesn't retroactively make the original worse — cough Arrested Development cough — and this one succeeds as a talented get-together. Marino gives great degraded desperation, embodying Ron's business ambitions as a kind of physical breakdown. Starr had angry-old-man energy as a kid, so the extra mileage suits him.

Conversely, Scott decided to stop aging — which must be nice, and which changes his particular equation as Party Down's protagonist. Henry used to worry about people recognizing him. There was the cosmic fear of being past his prime, plus visible Gen X cringe over that prime being a beer commercial. Now huge movie stars do ads, and getting noticed for something so old is really a compliment: You kinda look like your younger self. That's the best thing I can say about Party Down, an amazing show that returns just fine. It's attractive, familiar, a bit flatter, not quite as emotional. But what's a Los Angeles party without some botox? Grade: B

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