LAST WEEK on Franklin & Bash, our heroes learned a little something about ethics. Wait.
That’s not exactly true. They learned nothing about ethics.
In fact, Franklin & Bash ain’t exactly swimming in scruples. After all, they recalled their defendant to the stand, managed to discredit a witness’ testimony based on his inability to avoid telling jokes. Then they blackmailed a gambling juror into throwing a phony tantrum to be excused from the jury. Which, naturally, proved entirely irrelevant to the show’s outcome.
But for Franklin and Bash, the ends justified the means. Client – not guilty! How? Never mind that. And hey, did you see Fred Willard and Biff Tannen! Holy smokes!
THIS WEEK our heroes are up to more cocky shenanigans. What will they teach us? What will they learn about themselves? Well, in a set of dueling storylines farmed out to Tappa Kegga Whitebread, Franklin and Bash find themselves in a frat guy’s nightmare – trying to convince a dame she isn’t beautiful, even though (ZOMG) she’s not a Victoria’s Secret model! (Bites knuckle.) What a bummer of a predicament.
In the similarly offensive B-story, Malcolm McDowell manages to trivialize an entire race by bowing to each and every stereotype and finally teaching some backwards shop owner about the nuances of liberated women in the west. Why? Well, because Franklin and Bash’s Internet porn server guy, who was Korean, got caught stealing a rabbit, and didn’t have to time to fix Zack and Breckin and their Indian assistant’s concurrent porn/video gaming hookup. (Note: this series is quickly becoming filled with ridiculous sentences I can’t believe I’m typing.)
Because, if your Indian assistant can’t solve a computer server malfunction, you gotta dial it up and call a Korean friend, amirite?!
Well, back to the A-story, which is only insulting to each and every woman on the planet. So a disheartened Zack and Breckin are forced to talk to a normal looking woman for seven minutes, and they can’t believe she isn’t fully intimidated by her own inadequate self. Somehow, they do not try to slip roofies into her drink.
Turns out she was fired from her job at a seedy men’s mag. Strangely she files the suit because she claims she was fired for being “too beautfiul.” Zack and Breckin visit the mag, and – are you sitting down? – They’re stunned to find the place crawling with babes. No jury’s gonna believe that their client is more beautiful than these women!
Obviously, Jennifer (the girl’s name? Maybe?) actually was fired for being less than beautiful. Obviously, Franklin and Bash have a case if they just want to be honest to their client. But nope! No way will they crush this girl’s soul by telling her she’s ugly! Give it to Franklin and Bash, they alone seem to realize all women’s self-worth is a direct function of male approval.
Anyway, they concoct a lamebrained court strategy that’s designed to inform the jury that Jennifer is actually super beautiful and, yes, she was fired for such. This is the way real attorneys work, guys. Rather than offer an honest assessment to a client, and then legitimately argue for a rock-solid case, they always opt for a mischievous ruse that tricks the jury into voting their way. It’s really the only play.
And get this – they don’t go it alone! No way, Garcelle Beauvais emerges from under a rock and agrees to join the case. Not because she’s interested in the case or wants justice for her client, but because she wants to stick it to another man, the stuffy Damien, who is just such a jerk at work.
In fact, Bash even makes out with Jennifer on the stand, convincing the jury that if Zack Morris could find this girl attractive, then she must be superfly! (It’s just like when Zack didn’t want to take Wendy to the dance even though she bought him at the bachelor auction. Beauty is on the inside, Zack!)
Anyway, that’s not how the case turns. Somehow there’s yet another eleventh-hour twist that Franklin and Bash discover, rendering the previous 54 minutes completely moot, and luckily justice is served, and the plucky upstarts win again, and Zack earns a guitar from a bet he made with the stuffy lawyer. I forgot to mention that part earlier. I also forgot to mention, spoiler alert on the whole show.
Anyway, these exercises in futility are still somewhat enjoyable to watch. Because you’ve got to hand it to Mark-Paul “Bash” Gosselaar and Breckin “Schwartz” “Franklin” Meyer. They’re not quite charming. They’re not quite smarmy. They’re somewhere in the middle. (“Smarming?”) But they commit to this material, and they actually get oh-so-close to making it funny. They play off each other well, I’m pretty sure some of their stuff is improvised, and they almost save the day. You can almost see the strain on their faces.
Well, if they weren’t so dreamy, that is. Anyway, more next week!
