They say we are living in a golden age of television. If that’s the case, Jill Soloway’s new pilot deserves its own unit of commerce. Ruby? Sapphire? It’s a cut above the rest, and it’s fucking amazing and you should drop everything you are doing and watch it right now.

A dark family comedy about sex and self, “Transparent” is “Girls” meets “Parenthood,” with some “Louie” mixed in. The plot revolves around a classic Jewish L.A. family, including divorced parents Judith Light (sublime!) and Jeffrey Tambor (almost unbearably good, equal parts vulnerable and funny), and their offspring: Jay Duplass as Josh, a music producer who we meet in bed playing with the boobs of a blond cutie; Amy Landecker as Sarah, a housewife we first glimpse hurriedly rushing her kids to school; and the astoundingly good Gaby Hoffman as Ali, a depressive twenty-something with big ideas and no money. The kids are touchingly close, and they are called in by Tambor for a family summit in which the truth he plans to tell them ends up buried, rather than revealed.

The show is equally compassionate and disdainful towards its characters, both distant from and reveling in their upper-middle-class lifestyle. (“If you don’t raise five grand for Tu B’Shevat, Dana Goodman just implodes,” quips Sarah’s erstwhile lesbian lover during school drop-off.) But it also seems to be asking viewers whether to accept or deny the father’s accusation that his children are selfish and unable to see beyond themselves, especially since the carefully guarded secret of this family’s patriarch—his transgender identity—has seeped into his kids’ psycho-sexual lives.

As the pilot unravels, we see the siblings responding individually to the truth their father fails to reveal. They seem somehow to intuit that the masculine center of their family is in flux, or perhaps, was never quite there. Ali goes in search of a trainer in the park for an old-fashioned dose of discipline in its modern masquerade—a punishing workout. Josh finds himself in the lap of someone quite the opposite of his blond bedfellow, a woman with big curly hair and large floppy breasts who tells him to get comfortable. He lies down on the floor (in the exact position in which we first see Sarah’s son), and lays his head near the woman’s crotch. Is he looking to replace his emasculated father? Or perhaps searching for the mother figure he senses waiting to emerge? And Sarah finds herself reignited by her college girlfriend, seeking out her less hetero-normative former self. The kids do see their dad for what he is, if only unconsciously, evidenced by their search for a father—or mother—figure. And Dad, too, has something to learn, should the series get picked up.

In addition to being smart and sexy, “Transparent” is also genuinely funny. “Dad’s not getting engaged—he’s too much of a pussy-hound,” says Josh on their way to the summit. “Really he’s a Marcy-hound,” Ali corrects him. “Haven’t the last six been Marcys?” (I won’t ruin it, but when the three kids try to pronounce the Jewish last names of the Marcys, hilarity ensues).

With characteristic aplomb, Jill Soloway gives us something to wonder about, something to be surprised by, something to be aroused by, and something to laugh at. A lusciously downcast soundtrack lends the whole thing a distinctively Soloway melancholy; one senses that things are not going to be OK, but somehow, it’s better that way. The only weakness is the portrayal of minorities—Ali’s black trainer and Sarah’s lesbian ex-girlfriend seem a little too close to a white liberal’s fantasy. But perhaps Soloway means this as a critique of her characters, who put these individuals to use in satisfying their cravings. We’ll only know if the show gets picked up by Amazon, so watch it and say yes to “Transparent”!

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The new season of Arrested Development premieres on Sunday (all 15 episodes, at once, on Netflix), and suffice it to say, we’re excited. And we’re not the only ones—the New York Times is featuring daily interviews with the cast members, and the introduction to the interview with Jeffrey Tambor, who plays infamous patriarch George Bluth Sr., confirms that Jewcy favorite Seth Rogen will play a young George Sr. in the new season.

George Sr., you may recall, was a memorable installment of our Network Jews series—his conversion, while in prison, was as insincere and hilarious as all of his ventures. Here’s what Max Daniel had to say about Tambor’s bumbling character:

While the manipulations of those like Gob (Will Arnett) and Lucille (Jessica Walter) are often shallow and unintentional, George Sr.’s (Jeffrey Tambor) are the most successful, as he manages to manipulate every situation he finds himself in, even pitting his sons Gob and Michael (Jason Bateman) against one another for personal gain in a perverse rendering of the Jacob and Esau story. Sent to solitary confinement after an escape attempt from prison, George Sr. witnesses a sign from above—a shadow on the wall in the shape of a Star of David, complete with that schmaltzy clarinet music—and decides to become a Jew, crafting an improvised yarmulke out of his felt shoe (leaving an amusing tan line).

What this Judaism actually accomplishes is not much at all—he speaks slower and softer, he is exempt from the infamous “no touching” rule, but he’s still an unrepentant and self-interested liar (the producer, Mitchell Hurwitz, and several cast members are in fact MOTs—including Tambor, something he discussed with Marc Maron earlier this year.

So what’s in store for George Sr. this season? Tambor told the Times that his character is all about simply getting by:

Would you boo me if I said survival? That’s it. That’s what he mistakes for love and that’s how he operates his business. He likes to get it done. I’ve heard a lot of people bring up people in business and go, “Oh he’s this person.” I don’t know that there’s any of that intent, but he is of the times. The guy buried himself disguised as Saddam! I mean, come on!

We’ll you Sunday, Bluths.

(Photo by Stuart Wilson/Getty images For The BFI)

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Like most of the great TV shows of my generation—Freaks and Geeks, Futurama, Family Guy—Arrested Development was unlovingly canceled by curmudgeonly executives to the chagrin and disappointment of nerdy fans everywhere. Yet in its time off the air, Arrested Development has gained an unprecedented cult following, with fans producing such Tumblr gems as Arrested Decision 2012 (which mashes up campaign photos with some of the best AD lines) and Lucille and Mitt (which does the reverse); fan-made documentaries, and enough uproar to convince executive producer and narrator Ron Howard to revive the series for a fourth season on Netflix next year, which some boldly claim will change the way we watch TV.

Before this announcement, I had pushed back such dreams to the part of my brain occupied by fanciful delusions—the next time I’d see the Bluth family would be when the Chicago Cubs made it to the World Series (them actually winning is beyond delusion) and when Led Zeppelin announced a reunion tour.

Now that my fantasy is a reality, what I’m most looking forward to laughing at again are the constant personal disasters inflicted and received by the Bluths, caused by their evil genius, well-intentioned foolishness, or, often enough, both—Maeby’s (Alia Shakwat) attempts at fraud by pretending to be suffering a rare illness or a Hollywood executive, the fiasco behind “There’s always money in the banana stand!” or my favorite, Tobias’ (David Cross) fusing of his analyst/therapist skills to become an “analrapist.”

While the manipulations of those like Gob (Will Arnett) and Lucille (Jessica Walter) are often shallow and unintentional, George Sr.’s (Jeffrey Tambor) are the most successful, as he manages to manipulate every situation he finds himself in, even pitting his sons Gob and Michael (Jason Bateman) against one another for personal gain in a perverse rendering of the Jacob and Esau story. Sent to solitary confinement after an escape attempt from prison, George Sr. witnesses a sign from above—a shadow on the wall in the shape of a Star of David, complete with that schmaltzy clarinet music—and decides to become a Jew, crafting an improvised yarmulke out of his felt shoe (leaving an amusing tan line).

What this Judaism actually accomplishes is not much at all—he speaks slower and softer, he is exempt from the infamous “no touching” rule, but he’s still an unrepentant and self-interested liar (the producer, Mitchell Hurwitz, and several cast members are in fact MOTs—including Tambor, something he discussed with Marc Maron earlier this year.

Despite any signs of a moral turn-around, George Sr.’s turn to Judaism is insincere—as we’ve come to expect from any attempt at change from the Bluths. He informs Michael during a visit that it’s the first day of Yom Kippur, but even Michael knows that the holiday only lasts one day and that it was “back in September.” And although he calls himself a scholar, much of what he cites as Jewish religious insight, either in his Torah study group in prison or his gimmicky video series “Caged Wisdom” is not particularly serious or Jewish at all. One would be hard-pressed to find Rabbis debating how to spell “Hanukkah,” and as far as I know, finding joy in solitude—the basis behind his conversion—is not a particularly Jewish value at all, considering that much of Jewish life consists of being part of a group, either in a minyan or a mahjongg game.

Perhaps the only instance of anything particularly Jewish, aside from the ritual prayer shawl and tefillin that George Sr. dons in the “Caged Wisdom” infomercial, is when he mentions in a prison yard confrontation with “White Power” Bill that Jews believe that a part of heaven can be attained on Earth (i.e., the Sabbath). However factual this bit of info really is, we find that it’s probably artificial, telling Michael that he must get ready for the Sabbath, even though “it’s only Tuesday.”

Judaism, a religion that highly prizes morality and wisdom, are the two values that the Bluth family fundamentally lacks—and when George Sr. adopts the faith, we instantly (and correctly) suspect him of conniving some manipulative plan, twisting his conversion to serve his own needs. In Season 2, when he’s hiding in the family’s attic as a fugitive, his readiness to adjust to new circumstances is evident when he briefly adopts Christianity after finding a pamphlet on Jesus and a cross-shaped scar on his forehead. Converting various inmates and creating self-help tapes has very little to do with the fleeting faith George Bluth Sr. may have dabbled in, and is instead used to command respect as a leader of converts in his new prison environment.

While most of the family is either indifferent or at least tolerant of his conversion, the only one who calls him out—and the only one equally, if not more, capable of such funny self-interest—is his wife, Lucille. It seems that George Bluth’s foray into Judaism is one part of the family’s characteristic Chicken Dance—just another display of hilarious cruelty and stupidity.

Previously on Network Jews:

Fran Fine, the nasal-voiced star of The Nanny


Noah Puckerman, the coolest Jew in school on Glee

Andy Botwin, the promiscuous playboy on Showtime’s pot comedy Weeds

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