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Review | 'The League': A raunchy laugh riot

 

<em>The League</em>
The League
SCOTT SCAFER / FX
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ggarvin@MiamiHerald.com

The League, 10:30-11 p.m. Thursday, FX

Let's be clear here: I am not saying FX's new sitcom The League isn't funny. I'm just saying it's not for everybody. If you're sensitive about deviant sex, for instance -- or even normal sex, if it's had in restaurant restrooms -- you might want to give the show a pass. If drug use to the point of catatonia seems inappropriate as a springboard for humor, you probably shouldn't tune in. If emotional bullying, sexual blackmail and jokes about developmentally challenged puppies offend you -- in short, if you have a shred of human decency -- The League is not for you.

A kind of sociopathic Sex and the City for men that substitutes football for shoes and dope for cosmos, The League is about a group of arrested-development buddies (one is actually a woman, but she slings locker-room raunch with the best of them) whose fantasy-football league is an extension of their ethically stunted, emotionally retarded, sexually starved lives.

League champ Pete (Mark Duplass, The Puffy Chair) is ruthless and arrogant: ``It's not just that you lose -- it's that you try so hard and you still lose,'' he mocks his putative friends. His brash wife, Jenny (Katie Aselton, Intervention), can never decide if she wants another baby or another drink. Perennial runner-up Kevin (Stephen Rannazzisi, Samantha Who?) is so henpecked he conducts league business while sitting on the toilet, the only place he can hide from his wife.

The crass, manipulative Ruxin (Nick Kroll, Reno 911) would be diagnosed as paranoid except that everybody else really is plotting against him. Brain-dead stoner Taco (Jon Lajoie, star of countless scatological YouTube videos) is given to such aphorisms as ``I love having sex in Priuses; not only are you having sex but you're saving the environment.'' And Andre (Paul Scheer, 30 Rock), the group's punching bag going back to high school, is referred to by everybody as a ``sweet, gullible little sucktard.''

The testosterone-infused interplay as they taunt each other over career potholes, curdled marriages and sexual depravities and deprivations is scathing and hilarious, though an astonishing percentage of it cannot even be alluded to here.

Perhaps the content can be inferred from the official network bio of Jeff Schaffer, co-executive producer (with his wife, Jackie), which proudly notes that he ``rarely'' pays for sex, ``and never in this country.'' Unless, I imagine, it would make a good gag in episode three.

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