Lodge 49 takes its sweet time because it’s more interested in the feeling of being in this place and around these people than it is on finding out what happens next. That’s placing a very large burden on the actors, the writers, and the directors to make this leisurely stroll feel worthwhile, but Lodge 49 succeeds at almost every turn.
The real draws are the atmosphere (enhanced by a shimmering soundtrack of surf-rock obscurities and faux-retro contemporary tracks), the deadpan humor and the chemistry among an ace cast. Falling into Lodge 49 is like hanging out at an oddball dive bar that you ignored the instinct to keep walking past.
Despite the show's topical, poignant portrayals of economic anxiety, however, it remains an airy affair: The workaday drama at Liz's restaurant unfolds as dark comedy, and the lodge offers Ernie and his fellow Lynx a fanciful escape from reality.
Like its protagonist, the series keeps finding beauty and splendor in the mundane. And there’s tremendous warmth in the bond between Ernie and this kid, and among all the Lodge members. Again, it’s slow. It’s strange bordering on self-indulgent.
Lodge 49 is funny, occasionally dark, and very unique, but beyond that, it’s hard to define. Whatever it is, it’s certainly different. And worth the journey.
Too much of Lodge 49 feels almost defiantly undercooked, like it’s trying too hard to capture a laidback SoCal vibe and purposefully avoiding structure and momentum. With so much television out there that even critics can’t keep up with all of it, there’s just not a compelling enough reason to check into Lodge 49.