Professional USB Type-C Cable for Devices

Surrounded by the eccentricities of 1980s California life, Harvey Holroyd (Martin Mull), a Marin County resident, finds himself overwhelmed by the peculiarities of his family, neighbors, and co-workers. The era's prevailing fads and trends, encompassing sex, drugs, psychobabble, and health food, seem to have consumed those around him, driving him to the brink of insanity.

Joined by a stellar cast, including Tuesday Weld, Christopher Lee, and Tommy Smothers, Serial serves as a biting and hilarious satire of 1980s California life, a satire that, three decades later, appears eerily prophetic.

Initially, the film faced a swift disappearance from theaters, but it found its niche on the emerging cable television outlets that were sweeping the nation. Today, Serial stands as an excellent example of a minor film that a small yet devoted group of customers are eager to see released on DVD.

The film's source material originates from a 1977 book by Cyra McFadden, The Serial: A Year in the Life of Marin County, which began as a 52-part serialized satire exploring the issues faced by the affluent proto-Yuppies of one of California's wealthiest regions.

The permissive and socially progressive climate of the era gave rise to a population of self-directed individuals captivated by sex, no-fault marriage, encounter groups, and meditation gurus. Serial lampoons these trendy Marin County residents with a barrage of one-liners, including a flaky marriage vow presided over by a guru-like minister: "Thank you for inviting me to participate in your life, for I am an a--hole. And being an a--hole is neither good nor bad. It just is."

The audience's surrogate, Harvey Holroyd, is ever-ready with biting sarcasm, quipping, "These are exciting times aren't they? Gas is over a dollar a gallon, and it's okay to be an a--hole." His wife, Kate, urges him to relax, remarking, "Such rage, Harvey."

The humor, while often tasteless, is frequently hilarious and on-target, with the dated "price of gasoline" joke serving as a nostalgic reminder of the era. The film's advertising logo, a plastic 'feel good' heart pierced by a large metal screw, perfectly encapsulates its brand of black comedy.

Serial revels in its punchlines, with the characters functioning as humorous caricatures and nearly every line of dialogue setting up a clever laugh, often at someone's expense. While the reasonably warm characters played by Martin Mull, Tuesday Weld, Bill Macy, and others prevent the film from collapsing into pointless caricature, the overall effect is an invitation to jeer at a specific, grossly exaggerated sector of upscale California society.

Condensing the book's 52 chapters into a 90-minute film results in characters who appear narcissistic, decadent, and airheaded, hiding their miserable selves behind feel-good psychobabble. Even the rebellious child is named Stokely by his politically conscious parents, while the family dog is christened Elton John.

While Serial may not appeal to everyone, its frequent hilarity sets it apart from the "gawd-awful witless smut that passes for comedy today." However, the film's exaggerated depiction of Marin County lifestyles means that its humor is not without a degree of heartlessness and opportunism.

product information: