Consider Yourself Defiled

If you ask someone who has seen Californication, “What’s it about?” chances are they will tell it is about T and A and the sexual exploits of Hank Moody. And for some people, that is a bad thing. There are plenty of David Duchovny haters out there and there are plenty of other people that reject the parade of bare breasts and rolls in the sheets. This is a great show, and not just for lovers of breasts and fornication. I implore you to recognize Hank Moody as a 21st century antihero.

On August 13, 2007, Showtime premiered Californication in its primetime lineup. We meet Hank Moody in a dream sequence. Not the traditional crappy TV dream sequence where Cliff Huxtable dreams that he and the other Cosby Show men are pregnant or Pam dreams that Bobby gets run over by Katherine Wentworth. This is the kind of dream sequence where the protagonist walks into a church, puts out his cigarette in the holy water, and has a nun throw herself upon him. As the scene shifts back to reality, Hank finds himself in a stranger’s bed being awoken by the women who was the nun in his dream. As the woman explains her husband’s lack of prowess in the bedroom the angry spouse arrives home and we get the first of many great one-liners from Hank. “I’ll just hide under your clit. He’d never find me there.” Hank escapes in his defiled Porsche convertible as the husband breaks out a headlight with a baseball bat and the Rolling Stones blare as the opening soundtrack.

The dream sequence works so well, because the world of Hank Moody is far from reality. Hank is in a rut where he is a virtual spectator in his own life as the world around him swims and every unavailable woman in California seems to flock to him while the only women he really cares about are his common law ex, Karen, and daughter, Becca. The metaphor of the dream sets up a theme for the entire first season as we wait for Hank to wake up and rescue Karen and Becca.

While some consider Californication’s depiction of sex to verge on pornography, the truth is that casual sex on television is as commonplace today as the soufflé humor of the sitcoms of yesteryear and the intriguing part is more Hank’s casual laidback lifestyle than it is the sex. Any guy, manslut or not, has to admit a certain fascination with Hank’s sexual lifestyle, but it is his ability to just not give a damn that I truly envy. Hank does not work. He sleeps, drinks, and smokes all day long in between sessions of sex with beautiful women. He has a fancy foreign convertible that he constantly trashes. He loves the sound of records and hates modern art, blogs, and “dial-tones.” Hank is a badass who beats up jerks that answer their phone in the movie theater and puts out cigarettes on pedophilic teachers. His greatest weakness lies in his pants. He cannot resist the urge to “drown himself in a sea of pointless pussy” and punches or knees to the junk are his only kryptonite in a fight. While Hank is anything but altruistic, you cannot help but root for him as bizarre situations seem to come to him just as much if not more than he ever pursues them.

My favorite scene from the entire first season comes in episode nine. Hank is driving home frustrated after a spat with Karen where she tells him she will not read his new book. Hank stops for a woman in the road who asks for directions and, for once, instead of ending up sleeping with the woman Hank’s new Porsche gets carjacked by her boyfriend. As the boyfriend threatens Hank out of the car, he pleads just to get the sole transcript of his new book from the passenger seat but to no avail. Stunned for a moment Hank watches as they speed off. Then he shrugs it all off, lights up a cigarette, and walks home.

Every day the real world seems more uptight. Everything must be better, faster, and stronger. We have to protect the world from global warming, fix corporate fraud, and defend the world against terror. We are drones to alarm clocks and schedules. The 21st century hero may be ready to cope with all of these challenges, along with the perfect home with a wife and 2.5 kids, but when I watch Californication I think of a world where Hank's imperfection has its own perfection. Hank’s promiscuity contrasts his faithfulness to Karen before she left him. Hank’s hatred of blogs and internet chat language contrasts his fondness of good writing and timely quips. Hank does not rage or curse when his new car and book drive away because it would completely contradict his casual and unconcerned nature. It is perfectly dignified and I admire it.

For 30 minutes while I watch an episode of Californication I completely forget about trying to get ahead in the world. I want to be the antihero. I just sit there and wish that I would just shrug it all off, light up a cigarette, and walk home.