The Pitch: Lauren Caspian (Zach Woods) is a cultural titan, a modern thinker for a modern world, a warrior of intellectualism and societal progression — at least, that’s how he’d describe himself. In reality, he’s NPR’s third-most listened-to host operating out of an underfunded, barely functional studio in New York City.
Luckily, Caspian has a host of zany co-workers to try and keep him in check. There’s the well-meaning but combative researcher Fabian (Caitlin Reilly), the frat boy intern Chase (Charlie Bushnell), the too-sweet-for-her-own-good producer Barb (J. Smith-Cameron), the wholesome sound engineer Carl (Carl Tart), and the cultural critic Sandy (Mike Judge), who definitely had a little too much fun in the ’60s. Together, they somehow produce the show, all while acting like total nincompoops along the way.
Judging a Book By Its Cover: Of In the Know’s main selling points, Mike Judge’s involvement is perhaps the most eye-catching: The satiric mind behind Beavis and Butt-Head, King of the Hill, Silicon Valley, and more has a part-silly/part-serious reputation that precedes him. Whether he’s taking on ’90s youth culture, blue-collar America, or contemporary tech start-ups, his brand of humor strikes a paradoxical balance between crass and class, and In the Know is no different. For his latest takedown, Judge zeroes in on the NPR-listening, New Yorker tote-bag-wearing, daily crossword-doing, no-good members of our culture-obsessed little world of media.
Potty humor and deeply farcical cultural takedowns exist side by side, often combining for a single payoff, as is the case in the pilot when the office has an unexpected visitor take over their bathroom. It’s Judge to the core, providing the show with the “no one is safe from the butt of the joke” feel that his previous work — as well as shows like South Park or Always Sunny in Philadelphia, two shows that also couch their high-level cultural critiques in poop and fart jokes — has become known for.
Turning the Mic on Themselves: “We love public radio. It’s engaging and comforting. But it also reflects aspects of ourselves that we’re embarrassed by,” Woods said of the series leading up to its debut. “We’re privileged, well-intentioned, guilty hypocrites. We buy ethically sourced dog treats and have them delivered by people who are penalized for bathroom breaks. We put ‘No Justice No Peace’ signs next to our home security lawn decals. We’re sanctimonious doofuses who should be ridiculed more.”
It’s easy to picture many of the show’s jokes having roots in the reality of Judge, Woods, and the other In the Know creators, from hard-to-work-with on-air talent to performative social justice gestures. In a sense, it grounds the show, giving it a sense of realism that’s so integral to satire. At the same time, it directly leads to the flattest jokes the series’ six episodes has to offer.