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There is nothing in the least satiric about Twenty Nothing. The premise is so pat and trendy–a Chicago apartmentful of Generation X-ers of both sexes deals with life in the big city–it could pass for a real sitcom. Leiber has nothing to add to all the tiresome discourse about Generation X. And the problems the characters face in Twenty Nothing–how to ask a girl out, how to deal with a pushy roommate, whether or not to have a Valentine’s Day party–are trivial compared to those faced by my dispirited, broke, underemployed 20-something friends.
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All concerned clearly have the taste and restraint to let the jokes build over the course of the show. Instead of winning a lot of quick, empty laughs in the style of Robin Williams, with imitations of familiar cartoon voices, this witty crew began by introducing people who in no way resembled the cartoon characters they thought they were. Sanderson’s first interviewee was a sullen man claiming to be Aquaman–but Ian Reynolds looks no more like the watery superhero than I do. Only two-thirds of the way into the 40-minute show, once we’d already met a woman who thought she was Woody Woodpecker but refused to do his trademark laugh, were two excellent cartoon mimics introduced: Paul E. Mullins, who does a marvelous Popeye, and Michelle Greco, a veritable Mel Blanc of cartoon voices. And by that time this talented pair were just icing on the cake.
