On Cinema‘s 17th season opens with a startling reveal. Tim Heidecker has changed the name, set, and premise of the venerable movie review show he’s hosted with Gregg Turkington (forever credited as Tim’s “guest”) for the last 15 years. The movie theater is out, and Tim’s basement bar in Lake Havasu is inas the show adopts a man-cave aesthetic, promising “cool beers on tap, margaritas, and everything like that.” Even worse, Tim has a new hat. Believe it or not, this is pretty typical On Cinema stuff: Change is in the show’s DNA, and it’s perpetually swapping out settings, introducing ludicrous details to its characters’ personal lives, and finding new hairstyles for Tim. (Gregg, meanwhile, remains constant, changing only the promotional swag that makes up his wardrobe.) It’s a lot to track, and it’d be understandable if that shapeshifting nature prevented anyone from giving the show a chance. But I’d argue that On Cinema’s habit of hitting the reset button actually makes it all the more welcoming to the uninitiated.
A severe strain of completionism has infected our media consumption in the 2020s, preventing us from trying out new things because we worry we won’t understand all of it—whether it’s a TV show several years into its run, an ever-expanding film franchise, or a webseries frequently leapfrogging from one collapsing platform to the next. And I get it. My tombstone will read, “I don’t have room in my life for another podcast at this time.” It’s a disease that must be cured, and On Cinema is the antidote. It’s easy to look at the show—the center of a sprawling universe encompassing multiplespin-offs, annual Oscars specials, and one lengthy courtroom proceeding—and see an impenetrable bunker only the devout may enter. But that’s not the case. Just as people jump into watching General Hospital, following WWE, or reading Naruto knowing they’ll likely never fill in all the gaps, On Cinema operates under a “the best time to start is now” ethos.
The basics of the show are simple and unshakable. Tim and Gregg (to keep things simple, let’s refer to the actors/creators by their last names, and their fictionalized On Cinema alter egos by their first names) review two to three new releases each episode, rating them on a scale of one to five bags of popcorn. (Nothing ever scores lower than five.) But there’s an essential tension building between the reviews, as Tim attempts to launch his latest scheme to enrich or empower himself. This usually entails taking advantage of and poisoning a newfound family. Gregg, meanwhile, just wants to talk about movies and his ever-expanding collection of VHS tapes.
On Cinema is a soap opera about two guys wrestling for control of a worthless empire, and as with any soap opera, there are frequent show-shattering developments. (Unlike a soap opera, most of these life-changing moments happen off camera.) Tim might be responsible for the deaths of numerous adoptive sons and 20 young music festivalgoers, but when the music hits and the clock reads, “Movie Time,” things revert to the season’s specific plot. Drop in at any point, and whether they’re in Gregg’s Victorville, CA movie theater or a catering hall in Glendale, Tim will always have a new grotesque physical affliction, Gregg will be wearing a hat from The Core or some other piece of forgotten studio dross, and they’ll get down to the business of trying to think of things to say about the week’s movies—mostly complimenting their runtimes.
Structurally, On Cinema is the same as it was when it was an audio-only, bite-sized endeavor in 2011. And recognizing that there are new viewers and plenty who don’t remember every detail of last season, the show dutifully recaps the need-to-know developments as Heidecker and Turkington improvise their way through the movie reviews. Ironically and purposely, some of the most important developments of the 17th-season premiere are made in the show’s outro: After Tim says goodbye, the lights turn off, and he whispers something condescending to Gregg. The show barely expects its diehard base to understand what they’re saying, but assumes they’ll return next week to find out what it meant.
There are some caveats to this whole recommendation. Big ones. Newcomers will want to stick to the main roads; the bounty of supplemental material is catnip to the On Cinema faithful but isn’t necessary to understanding the show as a whole. This is a franchise that delights in punishing completionists, who, on some sick level, desire to be punished. Even the theatrically released Mr. America is best enjoyed within the context of the series as a whole. The On Cinema universe’s high-water mark, The Trial, is a six-part miniseries styled as faux news coverage of Tim being taken to court over a tragedy that unfolds in the background of season nine. As that description implies, The Trial shows off Heidecker and Turkington’s commitment to their bit, but won’t necessarily make the latest episode funnier or more coherent. It’s there if you want it.
On Cinema is always growing, but its core is static. One of the best parts of this show is that it never abandoned its web series restrictions as it moved from platform to platform. Each episode is roughly 15 minutes long, so you can enjoy whole seasons in about two and a half hours. So take your pick. Every season is a five-bagger.