“DTF St. Louis” breaks down its crude acronym until it isn’t disagreeable anymore. At times, it’s downright aspirational. Perhaps best of all, it’s also very, very funny.

As much as “DTF St. Louis” suggests that loneliness and the absence of healthy, rewarding male friendships are a pox on American men, the show likewise critiques paths that lead them to damnation: social media apps that crater one’s confidence with arguably greater efficacy than fulfilling the “social” part of the label.

Those who want to scratch their “White Lotus” itch without the mouth-watering scenery should be “DTW” (that is, Down to Watch).

It won’t be for everyone, but if you enjoy shows like FX’s Fargo and HBO’s own The Chair Company, it’s worth getting down with DTF.

If it were solely a series about sex, the tender yet confounding “DTF St. Louis” would be one cool piece of work. .... Usually, one would have a pretty solid idea of where things were headed after watching more than half a series. Yet “DTF St. Louis” is so emotionally elusive I’m less confident than usual in my clairvoyance.

“DTF St. Louis” has a bit of the feel of a character piece about midlife mores smushed into the currently more commercial format of the crime-based limited series. It might not satisfy fans of that genre, while if anything, I found myself wanting it weirder and less bound by its format.

Conrad writes most acutely when he’s sitting in the malaise of midlife, probing the gallows-humor resignation to the reality that few people’s lives turn out the way they wanted. .... A more confident show, or a more honest one, might have stuck with that feeling, rather than ginning up a plot better suited for a true-crime podcast. But maybe it’s the final proof of the characters’ banality that not even a murder mystery can make them interesting.