HBO’s ‘Rooster’: A Show Searching for Its Identity
Ever watched a TV show that feels like it’s trying to juggle too many ideas at once, only to drop most of them mid-air? That’s Rooster for you—a series with a stellar cast, a sprinkle of charm, and a whole lot of confusion about what it wants to be. Starring Steve Carell as an introverted pulp fiction author turned writer-in-residence at a small New England college, the show had all the ingredients for success. But somewhere between its multiple loglines and underdeveloped identities, it lost its way.
What makes this particularly interesting is how Rooster seems to be suffering from an identity crisis. Is it a story about a novelist rediscovering himself in academia? A tale of family reconciliation between Carell’s character and his daughter? Or perhaps a commentary on the clash between old-school writers and modern academia? The show tries to be all of these things—and more—but ends up feeling like a patchwork quilt with mismatched pieces.
The Cast: A Bright Spot in a Murky Sea
One thing that stands out here is the cast. Steve Carell, as always, delivers a nuanced performance, balancing his character’s meekness with moments of unintentional hilarity. Danielle Deadwyler, playing a poetry teacher, shines in her limited screen time, though it’s frustrating how the show treats her more like a side dish than the main course. Personally, I find it baffling that television continues to underutilize Deadwyler’s talent. She’s not just a supporting player—she’s a star, and Rooster misses a golden opportunity by not centering her story.
The ensemble, including Charly Clive, Phil Dunster, and John C. McGinley, is undeniably strong. Yet, even their chemistry can’t rescue the show from its scattered narrative. Take Clive’s character, Katie, for example. Her struggle to find her identity after her husband’s infidelity is compelling, but the script often forces her into awkward comedic moments that feel out of place. It’s as if the show can’t decide whether it wants to be a heartfelt drama or a slapstick comedy.
The Academic Setting: A Missed Opportunity
What many people don’t realize is how rare it is for TV to portray academia with depth and authenticity. Shows like The Chair and Lucky Hank have recently breathed new life into the “college professor” trope, but Rooster falls flat in this regard. The college setting feels academically amorphous—we know little about Ludlow College, its students, or the issues they care about. Instead, the show leans heavily on humor about outdated behavior, like Carell’s character accidentally groping or body-shaming students. While Carell’s talent makes these moments somewhat palatable, they feel more cringe-worthy than funny.
In my opinion, this is where Rooster could have taken a page from shows like Ted Lasso. Creator Bill Lawrence excels when he strips away the gimmicks and focuses on flawed characters navigating life’s messiness. But Rooster clings to its high-concept ideas, leaving little room for the ensemble to simply exist and connect.
The Humor: Hit or Miss
The humor in Rooster is a mixed bag. At times, it’s charming and self-aware, but it often veers into desperate territory. The show seems endlessly amused by Carell’s character being out of touch with modern sensibilities, but these jokes feel superficial. Compare this to a show like Vladimir, which tackles similar themes with far more depth, and Rooster’s approach feels like a missed opportunity.
Final Thoughts: Potential Buried Under Confusion
By the end of the six episodes sent to critics, Rooster still feels like a show in search of itself. It’s not that its ideas are bad—it’s that they’re overcrowded and underdeveloped. The cast’s talent keeps the show afloat, but even they can’t salvage a narrative that doesn’t know which direction to take.
What’s most frustrating is the untapped potential. With a stronger focus and a clearer vision, Rooster could have been a standout series. Instead, it’s a reminder that even the most talented creators and actors can’t rescue a show that doesn’t know what it wants to say.
In the end, Rooster is a cautionary tale about the dangers of overambition. Sometimes, less is more—and in this case, a simpler, more focused story might have allowed the show’s strengths to shine. As it stands, Rooster is a promising idea buried under layers of confusion. Let’s hope it finds its footing before it’s too late.
