Lady Dynamite

It is cheerful, dark, surreal, profane, aspirational, meta-fictional and packed with people playing versions of themselves or other people entirely (or playing versions of themselves playing other people entirely); it plays with visual and verbal puns, with moods and acting styles and moves around in time and dimension. And while these are elements of many modern comedies--it owes something to "It's Garry Shandling's Show," "Curb Your Enthusiasm," "30 Rock," "The Sarah Silverman Program," Hurwitz's "Arrested Development" and the cracked spirit of Adult Swim--I have never seen them assembled in quite this way, or with quite so much gusto.

Instead of laying Maria’s (and Bamford’s) heart bare every half hour, Lady Dynamite is now building a protective layer around it. For all the cathartic comfort we’ve found in her struggles, Bamford is transcending the need to suffer for--and in--her art. And the show is all the better for it.

Witty, airy, convoluted Lady Dynamite is no exception, showcasing a brilliance of concept and bizarre execution that would be hard sells on many other networks.

It’s not clear from these early episodes that Ms. Bamford has a whole lot more to say about the compounding difficulties of mental illness and the vicissitudes of life as a woman trying to succeed in the entertainment business and navigate romance in Los Angeles. Lady Dynamite is still a well-made and distinctive comedy, but there are a lot of those these days.

With the confidence of a show that knows exactly what it wants to be--and with the titanic Bamford anchoring every scene with incredible empathy and generosity, Lady Dynamite manages to stand out amid the constantly churning fray of television by being entirely, proudly itself.

Ultimately, Lady Dynamite presents such an amusing combination of humane wisdom and goofy wit that it quickly establishes itself as must-see fare. But don’t binge on this distinctive concoction. It’s best savored over time.

A unique series with an unusual premise, Lady Dynamite is awkwardly addictive.