Thanks to Netflix, and a year after everyone else—anyone who
was still watching, that is—we’ve managed to settle the unfinished business we
had with Californication, mainly to play catch up with seasons 6 and 7. As it
turns out, unfinished business is one of the major themes of the final season.
That and how increasingly over-the-top and devoid of much resemblance to
reality the show had become. Let’s face it: there are ladies’ men and then
there’s Hank Moody (David Duchovny). And no 40-something writer, no matter how attractive, gets
that much ass for free. Sure, he has that self-destructive, bad boy streak than
many women find irresistible but it’s just too much in this case. It’s almost
as if your suspended disbelief has to pause and get its bearings.
Season 6 is a ridiculous rock and roll journey almost
redeemed by the luminous Maggie Grace (‘Lost’) and a bonafide rock legend: Sex
Pistol Steve Jones. But “almost” is the key word here since the plot lines are
as atrocious as the bad accents and scenery chewing by most of the guest stars,
not to mention the least accurate rock star-types seen this side of a Amish
after school special. (The likely concoction of someone who quite
possibly may have confused This is Spinal Tap with an actual documentary.) Oh,
and Hank's best friend and agent Charlie (Evan Handler) pretends to be gay so he can sign gay clients. Yes, the results
are disastrous and not as funny as anyone might’ve hoped. And Rob Lowe as Eddie
Nero is exhausting and not in a good way. Whew.
Season 7, as we mentioned before, revolves largely around
loose ends: the end result of one particular instance of Hank’s past sexual
proclivities; Charlie and Marcy's (Pamela Adlon) marriage; and, of course, the on-again off
again romance between Hank and Karen (Natascha McElhone). Their daughter Becca (Madeleine Martin), as always,
represents the show’s emotional center and her appearances tend to imbue the
proceedings with a bit of heft. But we don’t see much of her, since the show
has veered too far off the silly end to employ Becca’s gravitas. Lowe as Nero
makes a brief and unnecessary appearance but the guest star slot is redeemed by
the return of Jones, as well as the welcome arrival of Michael Imperioli and Heather
Graham. (The less said about her character's son Levon…)
Californication ends in a way that Hank Moody himself may have
deemed lame: with a series of whimpering clichés that bear no relation to the
lunacy of its previous episodes. As if someone in the show’s hierarchy finally had enough with the shenanigans and abruptly decided it was time to wrap it all
up. Just like Hank, one assumes.
