Oh, yes, that's the goods! "The Chair Company" has been delightfully absurd from the get-go, but the bizarrely titled "New Blood. There's 5 Rons Now" takes the cake, being weirder, funnier, and scarier than last week's premiere. With the "premise" of the show now firmly established, Tim Robinson and Zach Kanin have room to truly play with the show's twisted logic. I'm already giddy with anticipation for next week.
There's still a storyline at play here; in fact, there are several ongoing threads, and I'm sensing that some seemingly inconsequential scenes and interactions might hold relevance much later in the season. Broadly speaking, the plot follows a man who thinks he's uncovered a criminal conspiracy tied to a chair company, only to find himself losing control of his life as he delves deeper into the rabbit hole. It's an easy concept to grasp, even if some of the detours are a bit... off-track.
At the start of the episode, Ron is still paranoid after his inexplicable run-in with the apparent Tecca enforcer. To be fair, it's hard not to panic a little when you get a text from your wife that reads, "Oh my god, come home now!" It turns out the issue is less dangerous and more domestic: Natalie wants to change her wedding venue at the last minute and hopes Ron can convince her fiancée's dad to come around. We'll return to that at the end of the episode, but for now, Ron and "The Chair Company" have bigger fish to fry.
At work, he embarks on the next stage of his investigation: tracking down his attacker using the floral shirt and baton he left behind. After ordering an expensive fingerprint dust kit for same-day delivery, he heads to the store where the shirt was purchased. Unfortunately, because he also has a big TV interview today about the mall, Jamie is hot on his tail in her own car. So he takes advantage of her poor driving to lose her, engaging in an action-chase-style scenario. She almost gets hit by a big truck when Ron runs a red light, and he can hear her screaming and sobbing as he drives away, feeling a mix of guilt and relief.
What sets The Chair Company apart from the ordinary isn't merely the unfolding plot but the intricate web of events that unfold with a unique charm. Consider the shirt salesman, with his deliberately enunciated words that sound almost alien, reminiscent of a Lanthimos-esque vibe. As Ron inquires about the buyer of the shirt, he points out the dirt stains, using a red ball to pantomime a belly "pushing up into the buttons," depicting a man "at his limit." Of course, the salesman doesn't actually remember the customer. It's all an elaborate ruse to entice Ron into signing up for yet another expensive membership, a decision that haunts him later in the episode with a barrage of irrelevant notifications from other members.
The interview itself proceeds smoothly, defying any predictable outcome on this show. Ron even extends a genuine apology to Jamie, who in turn invites him to church and receives no response. What's more troubling is the HR representative who persists in probing Ron, even though she's aware of the skirt incident with Amanda, which was an accident. The peeping tom educational video is humorous, but I'm particularly amused by the rep's oddly phrased questions ("Any kissing or sex?") and Ron's over-the-top denial that he could ever be attracted to Amanda. You can't really blame HR for raising an eyebrow at his claim that she "looked completely different" in high school.
As the investigation progresses, Ron makes a bold leap that turns out to be... surprisingly accurate. The dirtied shirt of the peeping tom in the video jogs his memory of his attacker's dirty shirt, leading Ron to find the man's hiding spot outside the office. There's a food container sitting there from Jan's Café, a Waffle House-esque diner where Ron's attacker works as security.
Here's where the attacker, whose name is Mike Santini, transforms from Ron's greatest threat to his only true ally. It would have been too easy if this guy were a Tecca enforcer, threatening Ron to protect the company from a scandal, but it turns out someone anonymously hired him to scare Ron. He's just as clueless about the true nature of what's going on as everyone else.
At this juncture, it appears highly probable that Ron's perspective on the company's alleged harm to people is off-base, and that the investigation will yield no concrete results or, at least, will diverge from his expectations. Or perhaps Ron is utterly correct, yet his sanity and unconventional behavior may make it difficult for others to take him seriously. The tension and uncertainty surrounding his story create a thrilling atmosphere that defies conventional thriller tropes.
Regardless of the outcome, it's clear that "The Chair Company" offers a nuanced character study akin to a twisty conspiracy thriller. Jamie's portrayal of Ron, highlighting both his darkness and light, reveals a complex individual who is usually a good father and boss but carries a darker side that threatens to surface, especially when his family is threatened.
Ron's outbursts of rage, pain, or shock are challenging to interpret in this heightened reality. Given our understanding of Tim Robinson's character, these reactions may elicit laughter. However, "Friendship" also allows viewers to see these quirks as evidence of selfishness, male ego, and genuine mental instability.
As Ron plans to join Mike to confront his employer in the parking lot of a storage space, equipped with a gun to extract answers from "Jim X," his hesitance to become a man who threatens others with a weapon highlights his sense of morality. He insists on being a good man and ruminates on what he cannot bear to lose, such as "making love to Barb on a soft bed."
Regarding Barb and the Trosper family, their development as fully-fledged characters is not yet apparent. Yet, their roles in the story are significant. Seth's quiet acceptance of the plastic hat Ron pretended was for him (which actually came in the fingerprint kit) and Natalie's desire for a haunted-house wedding offer glimpses into their relationships.
The sweetest moment of the episode comes when Ron successfully convinces Natalie's future father-in-law, Terry, to allow the "crazy kids" their way with the wedding venue. Terry's discreet thumbs-up and Natalie's happy reaction create a heartwarming yet fleeting moment. The sudden appearance of a creepy text message reading "no way out," accompanied by a photo of Ron taken seconds earlier behind the cracked front closet door, sets the stage for an almost Barry-esque cliffhanger.
"New Blood. There's 5 Rons Now" leaves us on the edge of our seats as Ron approaches the closet while game night continues uninterrupted in another room. The unsettling and indelible nature of this scene is heightened by Keegan DeWitt's bass-y drum machine kicking in over the cut to credits. "Tim Robinson does Mulholland Drive" may not be for everyone, but for those willing to embrace its unique vibe, this show is a treasure trove of hilarious oddities—and I have a strong feeling it's only going to get weirder from here on out.
