The art of ineptitude

Fans of “Arrested Development” have likely already located and embraced “Clark and Michael,” an online-only show with some vague association with CBS.com but its own website. Michael Cera (the former George Michael Bluth) and Clark Duke (whose roles include the immortal “Frat Boy No. 1” on an episode of “CSI,” plus roles in the upcoming ABC Family series “Greek” and Seth Rogan’s upcoming “Superbad”) play, essentially, dumber versions of themselves, aspiring screenwriters who are terrible at pitching ideas to executives, terrible at coming up with ideas in the first place and, well, terrible at being adults (they bicker like children). They are good, however, like the rest of the industry, at being self-absorbed, so they’ve hired a documentary crew to follow what they consider to be their inevitable journey to the top.

It’s very funny stuff. The whole trying-to-make-it-in-Hollywood trope is beyond tired, but these guys have sort of managed to find a way to parody the industry satire. Except for the ridiculously perky opening-title sequence (in which they get waaay too enthused about spotting Cuba Gooding, Jr.’s star on the Walk of Fame), the whole thing has a sloppy, tossed-off quality that’s perfect for the Internet (when Tony Hale, "Arrested Development" creator Mitchell Hurwitz, Andy Richter and Adult Swim anarchist Eric Wareheim make brief appearances, the sudden burst of nominal professionalism is almost jarring). But I’m not sure why no one has picked it up for actual, real-honest-to-goodness TV yet – if IFC can find airtime for “Bronx Bunny,” they should be able to shoehorn in a few minutes for this.

“Clark and Michael” is sort of a the younger American cousin of HBO’s hilarious new “Flight of the Conchords,” itself the forgotten Kiwi nephew, to stretch a metaphor that didn’t make much sense in the first place to the breaking point, of Tenacious D’s short-lived HBO show. Jemaine Clement (who also stars in the new film “Eagle Vs. Shark”) and Bret McKenzie star as the most charisma-free pop act since The Shaggs, a New Zealand folk-pop duo looking to make it big in New York – if they can be bothered to land a gig, that is.

Clement and McKenzie are so deadpan they almost make Steven Wright look like a kid with ADD. They stumble through their days as if a modicum of effort might literally kill them. Their social lives are amongst the most joyless committed to film, their manager is just nominally more competent than Stephen Merchant’s uber-buffoon on “Extras” and their songs could serve as the soundtrack to our current Era of Lowered Expectations.

A full review will appear in Sunday’s paper, but suffice it to say you’ll expend more energy laughing than Clement and McKenzie appear to expend on creating the show itself.