The worst thing "I'm Dying Up Here" has going for it is Jim Carrey's name attached as executive producer. It's not Carrey's fault. Despite his valiant efforts to stretch ("The Truman Show," "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"), he'll forever be known as a hyperactive cartoon character spewing catchphrases out of his butt.
I launched into the first six episodes braced for so many fart jokes I'd have to call a fumigator.
Instead, "Dying," an all-access pass into the backstage of an L.A. comedy club, plays to Carrey's most ambitious instincts and will certainly end up on my shortlist for best new series of the year.
Premiering Sunday on Showtime, the drama is set in 1973, long before Carrey cut his teeth. The setting is important. Back then, opportunities were scarce and the pay was zero.
One newbie who can barely book time during open-mic nights at his home club, the fictional Goldie's, joins Alcoholics Anonymous simply to test out new material at meetings. Another contemplates switching allegiances because a competitor offers free breaded shrimp.
The only path to fame was Johnny Carson, played by Dylan Baker with none of the host's on-air charm and every fiber of his off-air ruthlessness.
Of course, all of the struggling comics are convinced they're just four killer jokes away from earning a spot on "The Tonight Show" and will do almost anything to curry favor with the club's gatekeeper, Goldie, played by Oscar winner Melissa Leo.
While they have each other's backs — no one else could stand them — they shower one another with the kind of tough love that would make Gordon Ramsay cower in the pantry. They'll watch each other's sets, even force themselves to laugh. But in the back of their minds, they're assembling a new putdown to unleash over a post-mortem at an all-night diner.
