Garfunkel & Oates

Rapid-fire zingers help ease the bumps of awkward sitcom patter, which will no doubt even out as the ladies find their rhythm.

They practice the comedy of female semi-empowerment, in which confidence (tending toward narcissism) and a still somewhat startling sexual frankness combine with old-fashioned insecurity and self-abasement, all of them generating laughs.

While the pilot sets the series off to a rather slow start, once you warm to the unique pace and rhythms of their comic delivery, Garfunkel and Oates makes for an endearing half hour experience.

The first episode is the weakest of the three I've seen, with some good moments but too couched in the nominal premise of struggling performers trying to make it in show business. The sex humor feels similarly conventional. Things quickly improve, however, as the women get stranger and more idiosyncratic.

While the show doesn't have the cachet of, say, Marc Maron's series, it's a funny, entertaining comedy starring the offbeat comedy-folk duo of Riki Lindhome and Kate Micucci.

G&O feels less serious of intent, less urban or urbane than “Broad City.” But fun.

They found a way to marry the innate cuteness of their wide-eyed unison singing with frank lyrics to hilarious effect. When the show figures out how to do the same, it will be a force to be reckoned with, but as it stands now, it’s more confused than anything else.