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The Chair Company, Season One

Everything is weird, everything is broken, everyone is confusing.

The Chair Company is the story of a man who realizes too late he’d probably be happier being normal. Our own Captain Nath more than adequately covered the themes and basic premise of the show, including the way it builds off Tim Robinson’s previous work in I Think You Should Leave. Ron (Robinson) is a typical Robinson protagonist, right down to the premise of the show: Ron is giving a presentation at work only to have a very minor embarrassing accident – his chair collapses under him – which he escalates far beyond what any normal person would. The thing is, the series is even more interesting than any individual line would imply, even my own that opens this essay, and the more I think about each part, the more directions I end up going down (appropriate for a conspiracy thriller).

This series in particular has been hit with the word ‘Lynchian’, and I do believe it to be even more true than the people using the word realize. Yes, there are bizarre moments that seem from a different reality entirely, but Robinson, like Lynch, is fascinated to the point of obsession with banality, and each man’s respective visions ends up twisting that banality into something unrecognizable and bizarre. Many ITYSL sketches are set in offices, birthday parties, dates, and dinners, then pushing the imagery and words to somewhere we’ve never been before. He particularly likes doing this with language; I think of “I don’t know how to hear anymore about tables!”, which sums up his almost childlike mixing up of words into almost-sentences.

With Lynch, I get the sense that he’s remixing and possibly misremembering things he’s heard somewhere; with Robinson, it feels like actively trying to push us out of reality and into somewhere much stranger. Each, in their own ways, is everyday life only moreso. It does mean there’s always this core of reality to Robinson’s work; The Cap’n has repeatedly noted how Robinson’s characters are always motivated by fairly basic anxieties and feelings – usually, embarrassment they try to avoid with increasingly extreme action (random ITYSL examples: the guy who is upset his date ordered fully loaded nachos, or the guy trying to fit into an adult ghost tour by dropping incredibly explicit references).

The Chair Company is interesting because it allows these ideas to spool out far longer and far more absurdly. Readers familiar with my work and thinking will know I was far less crash-hot on ITYSL than most people, because I felt like it was operating at 100% at all times and so the absurdity often felt like white noise (my favourite sketch was the last one of episode three of season two, as we watch the increasing absurdity of Robinson’s character watching people in court roasting his stupid hat). Contextualizing Robinson’s vision in a story is different; the most canny move the series pulls is that underneath all the absurdity is a real, sincere conspiracy thriller plot, with red herrings and various players and a solution that wraps everything up (another quality it shares with Lynch – banal genre choices). This even extends to the filmmaking, which never once breaks character to let us know that what we’re looking at is silly; my hardest laugh was when we see Ron walk into a room and discover it’s full of his hated chairs, and Robinson gives us an absolutely goofy look of triumph as the camera slowly pulls out.

A good story – driven by action and consequences with clear motivations – inherently calls for degrees of emotion, and Robinson’s gift for the weirdest and most inhuman facial expressions is given context that emphasises the absurdity; in the seventh episode (out of eight), he goes full 100% Tim Robinson, and I can’t help but cackle because Ron has every reason to break down at this point from the sheer stress of what’s happening to him and the buildup of humiliations and frustration. The side effect of this is that no one line quite seems to sum up what the story is ‘about’; the most common one I’ve seen takes Ron’s line about how ‘everything is garbage and nobody lets me talk to a person’ and said this show sums up the humiliation of living in the tech-dystopia of 2025.

What this ignores is how much Ron’s situation is his own fault. For one thing, he’s so obsessed with this entire Chair Company situation because of a minor humiliation; one of the great touches of the series is that for the longest time, we have no reason to believe anyone has anything less than total sympathy for his chair collapsing, and in fact, nobody ever brings it up after the scene where his workmates commiserate with him (of course, it factors into the final twist of the series revealing it was intentionally broken to embarrass him). Some of his problems are real grievances or worries, like his son turning to alcohol or his daughter possibly being in an abusive relationship; others are pettier but still understandable, like his soul-sucking job that has the extra layer of being a reflection of the humiliation of his dream job falling to pieces. The rest are extremely petty annoyances and insults.

I look at Ron, and I see people who complain about, say, streaming services having ads as if they’re an affront to the dignity of us all, or social media services becoming increasingly unusable, or people posting the dumbest and most rage-inducing crap online. The dumbest thing I saw someone online say – yes, yes, I know what I’m doing – was someone complaining about their lack of privacy and inability to be as incognito as possible on Tumblr, of all places. I can empathize – if not sympathize – with this perspective because I know how it feels. As I’ve gotten older and become more at one with my sense of purpose, I’ve found it hard to get annoyed in any meaningful way about the little complaints of life; when you don’t know what you’re here to do, you tend to latch onto every little piece of suffering and trying to cure or prevent it.

Quite a few people have pointed out that Ron’s quest is motivated, in part, by the constant humiliation and frustration he feels at having to be alive and existing in the world; to give himself some kind of control and drive. I love how, as the show goes on, Ron’s regular life ends up giving him ideas for solving the conspiracy, like any true artist. I think what The Chair Company ultimately concludes is that it’s impossible to get out of this life at all without some kind of suffering or embarrassment and life is a matter of choosing which one you take on through why you’re taking it on. One of the other canny touches of the show is that Ron is actually pretty good at his job – within the context of his strange world, he’s able to manage the people under him and complete projects on time and under budget, and he’s even pretty good at his amateur sleuthing.

And the canniest touch of all is that the solution to the Chair Conspiracy itself is the most banal element of the series; I’m sure there are thousands of companies around the world committing fraud in the exact way Ron identifies. The real weirdness in Ron’s life is the humanity around him; he ultimately lets go of the conspiracy, partly for ego reasons (he can now be satisfied in the sense that he’s ‘helped’ his wife in the most self-serving way possible), but also because he sincerely loves his wife and wants her to be happy, but he’s misidentified the threat of Mike (Joseph Tudisco) because, like me, he fell for the buddy comedy bromance thing they ended up developing and failed to really deal with his children’s issues.

This is where Robinson’s creative vision goes from merely funny to profound. His weird, childlike gift for language and behaviour means anyone who walks onscreen becomes vivid and memorable; I’d say my favourite character is Jamie (Glo Tavarez), who seems extremely pleased to be talking to Ron any time she sees him (and is adorable when she’s hurt by him), but I also have a lot of affection for Oliver (Alberto Isaac), who is the most concentrated form of Robinsonian weirdness in the show. People like this pass into your vision and you get why you should probably abandon your quest to uncover a conspiracy to pay attention to them.

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