Will Arnett continues his arrested development on Flaked, keeping bad behaviour behind an aura of cool She can’t even do a stand-up set in front of children without nearly drowning in her own anxiety, because she knows they’ll never get her jokes. ![]() Her career peak is a turn as the spokesperson for a Target-esque superstore (which Bamford really did), but her cheques are an albatross: she barely cashes the first one before she is racked with guilt over the people who are making these cheap wares, and the amount of money she gets to smile and wave is a source of shame around her (admittedly awful) old friends. What allows most of this to be funny - besides the show’s knack for gloriously silly asides, like a half-memory/dream sequence where a bad boyfriend shoots a puppy who was about to cure cancer - is that Bamford herself is really no better, for herself or anyone else. Her life coach uses their sessions mostly as a chance to brainstorm book ideas. ![]() ![]() Her manager, a fatuous boob who is introduced putting his brand new steel-toed cowboy boots through his brand new glass “power player” desk, is seen absent-mindedly making “show me the money” gestures while he carefully explains that she is never allowed on the Fox Studio lot again. Paying people doesn’t work any better, though.
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