The Magic of Only Murders in the Building Is Its Simple Humor
Photo Courtesy of Hulu
Comedy comes in all shapes and sizes. Barry pivots effortlessly between surreal moments of hilarity and bouts of abject devastation. Succession is one of the funniest shows on TV despite being a Shakespearean family drama. And What We Do in the Shadows mines humor from low-hanging vampire jokes that, like its characters, never grow old. We’re living in a golden age of comedy, one that is at least partly a response to the frequent darkness and violence that preceded it during the Age of the Antihero. But for all of the excellent shows making us laugh today, no series does it better or more reliably than Only Murders in the Building.
The Hulu series, which returned for its second season with two episodes on June 28, was co-created by Steve Martin and John Hoffman (Grace and Frankie). It follows three strangers (portrayed by Martin, his frequent collaborator Martin Short, and Selena Gomez) who reside at the Arconia, a massive, extravagant apartment building on the Upper West Side, and who have little in common except for their address and the fact that they’re obsessed with the same true crime podcast. So when a resident of the building is murdered, the unlikely trio come together to solve the case and create their own podcast following the investigation. In Season 2, they’re hand-delivered a sequel when they become suspects in the murder of yet another Arconia resident, pushy board president Bunny (Jayne Houdyshell), and thus must rush to solve the case and clear their names.
By inserting self-aware humor into the the well-worn beats of the addictive true crime genre, Only Murders is a perfect parody that doubles as the real thing, tapping into a cultural moment while upgrading the notes of the classic murder mystery. But the foundation of the show—and thus its secret weapon—is its simple, somewhat old-fashioned approach to humor.
In the hands of veterans Martin and Short, even the most basic jokes become uproarious moments of levity. It’s impossible not to laugh when Short’s Oliver, a struggling Broadway director, finds himself holding the murder weapon and a beat too late screams, “Why am I holding this knife?” before launching it into the ceiling. Or when Martin’s Charles, an actor reeling from a revelation about his late father that leaves him questioning everything he thought he knew, scribbles “Me?” on a notecard and adds it to a bulletin board of suspects. The jokes may be simple (and sometimes border on dumb), but they’re performed with an expert touch.