Mr. Show With Bob And David: "Now Who Wants Ice Cream?" & "A Talking Junkie"

Hello, fellow citizens of New Freeland!
We've now reached the second season of Mr. Show With Bob David, which went on the air almost exactly a year after the first season wrapped: "Now Who Wants Ice Cream?" aired on November 15th, 1996. (Think about that for a second, folks: that means if you watched the show when it first aired, like I did, kids who were born while you were dicking around watching HBO at two in the morning are now in high school. Live with that.)
HBO renewing Mr. Show for a second season didn't make them any more competent at producing it. The show was as underfunded as ever, and while in the first season the network simply didn't promote it at all, they moved on in season 2 to promoting it with extreme incompetence. What did change was Bob Odenkirk & David Cross' commitment to the show. They'd finally assembled a dream team of writers and actors who are still providing us jaded comedy nerds with yucks aplenty, and since they now realized that they were living on borrowed time — that however long the show might last, the network had no intention of helping them out — they decided to shoot (or, more precisely, blow up) the moon. The tendency I mentioned last week to turn fifteen cents into a dollar really becomes explicit in season 2; the budgets didn't grow, but the ambition did, and the amount of payoff Bob & David got out of their limited resources grew by leaps and bounds.
I won't be coy: we're getting into, with seasons 2 and 3, the place that I think is the pinnacle of Mr. Show With Bob And David's greatness, which means the pinnacle of greatness in the medium of sketch comedy of which American television has thus far been capable. The thematic elements are going to get stronger from here on out, the audaciousness of each bit is going to get more impressive, the acting and writing is going to launch into orbit, and everything from the links to the end credit gags are going to get a lot better. Let's not waste any more time: if you've been here before, I hope you'll agree with me that revisiting these episodes is a vital reminder of how amazing this show is, and if you haven't, I truly envy you, because you're about to be exposed to something that, as a cultural phenomenon, is pretty fucking close to perfect. Mr. Show was the very definition of a cult hit: almost nobody saw it at the time, but everyone who did felt like it was almost a personal responsibility to spread the word. In the last days before our culture became completely internet-centered, that really meant something.
EPISODE 1: "Now Who Wants Ice Cream?"
What Worked: Everything is going full-tilt in this episode, which is one of my all-time favorites. If we were allowed to give A+ ratings, best believe this would get one. From the opening shot of a "cabin in the woods" (as played by stock footage of the Hollywood Hills) to Bob gamely impersonating his grandpa, this one really doesn't have any room to breathe — there's not a slow patch in it. One of the bits that really surprised me on re-viewing is "Peterson Family News"; it's really not much more than an extended link, but it's got that special Mr. Show quality in spades. Plenty of shows might come up with a skit riffing on the tendency of live news shows to deliver constant updates when there's no real events to report. But here, Bob & David take it beyond that, delivering that little extra effort that moves it into the realm of the genius, and again, they do it by going one step further and making it about the sketch itself instead of about the idea for the sketch. Instead of focusing on the joke of how there is no news, they make it about how the reporter and anchor react emotionally to that fact: David gets peevish and acts like he's being personally slighted, while Bob just gets irritated and annoyed ("This is a national news story! That was a bris! It wasn't even a party!") "Take Back The Streets" is just unalloyed crazy greatness, and Jay Johnston's deadpan physical humor combined with David's menacing commentary makes "The Independent Nations Games" a triumph. It's just a solid episode from end to end.
What Didn't: "U.S. Customs" is a pretty bog-standard sketch comedy premise. But David's jittery, shampooey performance, combined with the mother of all punchlines from John Ennis, means even this one comes out wonderful.
The Cast: There are tons of great bits of acting here, from Bob's over-the-top performance as F.F. Woodycooks to the perfect little hand gesture David makes at the end of "Peterson Family News" ("That guy is unbelievable!"). But nowhere in the show — maybe nowhere in the entire series — is there an acting showcase as marvelous, as jaw-dropping, as "8-in-1 Super Pan Infomercial". In fact, it's the acting that makes the entire sketch. It's an incredibly ambitious gambit: infomercial parodies are a dime a dozen, but from the moment Bob turns to Jill and says "He's gone now" after David's Pat Franks departs to take a crap, it takes one of the all-time most daring turns in comedy history. David nails both the over-exuberant host role at the start and the vengeful near-fanatic at the end; Bob is transcendent in how he plays a character who's wandered into an infomercial from some kind of surreal theater-of-cruelty play; and, as a few of you have pointed out, the entire sketch hinges on Jill Talley's stunning performance as the terrified Nancy Gumphrey. You're right to notice that she's not really funny; the humor, uncomfortable as it is, stems from her playing it super-straight, which means she needs to seem nearly shell-shocked by the end, and boy does she pull it off. It's one of the finest pieces of acting I've ever seen in comedy.
The Crew: The show still looks pretty cheap, but it's beginning to embrace that a lot more and make it part of the comedy. They come up with some truly heinous wigs in this one, and Bob should get some kind of hazard pay for both the goofy Turner D. Century look he rocks in "Take Back The Streets" and the egregious wig-and-eyebrows combo he has in "Super Pan". Some of the segments are really well-filmed, especially "Mountain Dougie" — his trip to the grocery store (featuring a dour and severe-looking Mary Lynn Rajskub) and the scenes where the "lady from the city" comes up to write his national anthem, complete with point-of-view high kicks, look really nice. Slick little piece of design, too, in "Independent Nations Games", with the Don't Tread On Me snake threaded through the Olympic rings.