Reba McEntire Stars in NBC Sitcom

I’m not even a particularly huge Reba McEntire fan, but I know that we don’t deserve Reba McEntire. We, as a society, have not done anything to be worthy of somebody who was one of the all-time great country singers, then became one of the all-time great sitcom actors, then dabbled in being an all-time great award show host and reality show panelist. In her free time, I can only assume that Reba McEntire bowls regular 300 games, prepares a perfect Beef Wellington and has constructed an entirely Nazi-free social media site composed exclusively of substantive conversations and sparkling personalities.

So when I say that Reba McEntire’s new NBC series Happy’s Place is not worthy of Reba McEntire’s talents … well … get in line, Happy’s Place.

Let’s change the unreasonable parameters, then.

As bar-set NBC sitcoms go, Happy’s Place is no Cheers, in the two episodes sent to critics. But perhaps that isn’t a fair comparison, either. The Cheers pilot is perhaps the best sitcom pilot ever made, and that’s without getting into the subsequent 274 episodes.

Then again, Happy’s Place is also no Undateable or Abby’s, two subsequent bar-set NBC sitcoms that set the bar — so to speak — much, much, much lower.

What Happy’s Place has going for it, thus far, is a very good logline and a terrific central star. The episodes themselves are bland, struggling to define the central location and its core characters in any way. I’ve watched countless horrible broadcast comedies, and while this one isn’t close to deserving that level of condemnation, “horrible” is still “memorable.” For those without a fierce dedication to Reba McEntire, this show is as forgettable as it gets.

Like I said, though, the Kevin Abbott-created comedy actually starts with a solid premise. Bobbie (McEntire) runs Happy’s Place, a Nashville-area watering hole started by her father. When he dies, Bobbie is excited to finally be taking over. Why? The series is not able to make clear, since there’s no indication she has much passion for the place. But whatever.

Anyway, complications arise in the form of Belissa Escobedo’s Isabella, who turns up at Happy’s Place in response to a mysterious call from an attorney. She’s shocked to discover that her father was also Bobbie’s father, and that he’s left each of them half of the establishment. The only person more startled by this news than Isabella is Bobbie.

Isabella is young, Latina and knows nothing at all about bar management. Bobbie is very set in her ways. How could hilarity help but ensue?

Ask the first two episodes of Happy’s Place, which deliver only two good moments.

In the pilot, Bobbie reflects on the previous 15 minutes of surprise and confusion and observes, “You look at me and you see the father you wish you had. And when I look at you, I lose the father I thought I had.” It’s a really good and emotionally fraught summary of the underpinnings of the narrative. I heard the line and nodded and thought, “That’s a good central conflict for a series.” (In fact, it’s kinda the central conflict to Starz’s fantastic Vida. Watch that instead. Probably not as a family, though. It’s very sexy.)

Then in the second episode, having behaved like a cad to Isabella for 20-ish minutes, Bobbie goes off on a rant. Her tone suggests she’s eviscerating her half-sister, but the dialogue and McEntire’s performance make it clear that it’s completely self-lacerating. I watched that monologue and thought, “Man, that Reba McEntire is really good at this sitcom acting thing.” She has that gift that allows her to hit very conventional punchlines hard, while still staying authentic as a person and not only as a character. She just looks and sounds comfortable in this format.

Of course, the entire show has been set up for McEntire’s comfort, from its “Nashville” setting to co-stars like Melissa Peterman, a veteran of The WB’s Reba, and Rex Linn, McEntire’s longtime partner. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, and at least I can briefly describe their characters. He’s a taciturn chef — Happy’s Place serves nebulous food at nebulous hours of the day — who delivers words of wisdom, while she’s the manager who craves Bobbie’s affection.

Other supporting players include Takoda (Tokala Black Elk), an endlessly chipper waiter who does odd jobs and never appears to actually wait on anybody, and Steve (Pablo Castelblanco), the accountant who, despite a variety of social anxieties, does his work sitting in the middle of a crowded commercial facility. (Why does a bar this insignificant need a dedicated accountant? Unclear.) Neither of them are really characters, but I can imagine that the text on the page described them along those lines.

As for Escobedo’s Isabella, who ought to be an equal co-star in the comedy just like she’s an equal owner in the bar, she’s a Gen Z cipher with a psychology degree. I couldn’t tell you if Escobedo is funny or what Isabella’s comic voice sounds like. I likewise couldn’t tell you where the character came from or what she was doing with her life, which didn’t seem ambiguous until she abruptly mentions in the second episode that she’s been staying at a motel.

I hate to go back to the Cheers pilot again, but in the course of under 30 minutes, the Charles brothers and Jimmy Burrows give you a full introduction to every employee, half of the regular customers and the repeatable premise for an ongoing sitcom. You know exactly who works there and who drinks there, and if somebody were to say in the second episode, “That’s not how things go at Cheers,” you would know exactly what that meant.

I don’t know who works at Happy’s Place. I don’t know what they do. I certainly don’t know who eats or drinks there. Bobbie makes a joke about how little money Isabella can expect to make, even though there are a ton of background extras in every scene. You could tell me this joint hosts weekly raccoon mud wrestling or that it’s the mayor’s favorite haunt and I’d be equally likely to believe you, because Happy’s Place does not feel like a well-established Nashville institution. It feels like a generic bar set on a studio lot and its staff feel like descriptions on a casting notice, plus Reba McEntire.

Does the series have a premise it could grow into? Yup! Does it have a cast that could grow with it? Maybe? I don’t resent Happy’s Place, I’m just not interested in charting its evolution. But maybe I’ll check back in at the start of the second season.