Get ready to cringe, laugh, and question everything—because Tim Robinson is back, and he’s bringing his uniquely unhinged brand of humor to HBO with The Chair Company. But here’s where it gets controversial: What if the most absurd, self-destructive behavior is also the most relatable? Robinson’s comedy thrives on pushing the boundaries of discomfort, and this series is no exception. Let’s dive in.
In the opening sketch of his cult hit I Think You Should Leave, Robinson plays a man who turns a trivial mistake—pulling on a door meant to be pushed—into a full-blown spectacle of stubbornness. Instead of admitting he’s wrong, he doubles down, breaking the door’s hinge and humiliating himself in the process. This refusal to let go, this tendency to spiral over the smallest things, is the heartbeat of Robinson’s comedy. It’s not just funny; it’s a mirror to our own irrational tendencies. And The Chair Company takes this theme to new heights—or should we say, depths—with eight cringe-worthy, laugh-out-loud episodes.
And this is the part most people miss: Robinson’s humor isn’t just about making us squirm; it’s about exposing the absurdity in everyday life. In Friendship, he and director Andrew DeYoung stretched this idea to feature length, and now, with The Chair Company, they’ve expanded it into a full-blown comedy-thriller. It’s purposefully uncomfortable, but for fans of Robinson’s weirdness, it’s a wild ride you won’t want to miss.
The series kicks off with a small, embarrassing office mishap—the kind most of us would vent about and forget. But not William Ronald Trosper, or ‘Ron,’ as he’s known. Ron, a quintessential Robinson character, can’t let it go. What starts as a joke quickly spirals into a full-blown obsession, as he convinces himself he’s the victim of a grand conspiracy. Here’s the bold question: Is Ron a caricature of modern paranoia, or a reflection of our own inability to admit fault? His thin-skinned, self-destructive behavior feels eerily familiar, especially in today’s blame-driven culture.
Ron’s anger may be directed outward, but it’s his own life that crumbles under the weight of his actions. His family—wife Barb (Lake Bell), son Seth (Will Price), and daughter Natalie (Sophia Lillis)—watch with a mix of frustration and worry as he neglects reality for a twisted fantasy. But here’s the twist: Ron isn’t just a cautionary tale; he’s a funhouse mirror reflecting our own impulses. Who hasn’t fantasized about revenge for a petty slight or reimagined their failures as heroic triumphs?
What sets Ron apart is that, in this case, he’s actually right. There is a conspiracy afoot, though it’s so convoluted and vague that it barely seems to matter. The real genius of The Chair Company lies in how it uses this murky plot to throw Ron into absurd, over-the-top situations—from bizarre arguments to awkward brawls. The performances, often by lesser-known but brilliantly offbeat actors, elevate these moments from amusing to sublime. It’s as if everyone is an alien trying to mimic human behavior, and the result is both unsettling and irresistible.
But here’s the controversial take: Is Ron’s reality any stranger than our own? From socially awkward nerds taking ‘life of the party’ classes to a henchman (Joseph Tudisco’s Mike) who finds joy in listening to X-rated radio rants, the world of The Chair Company feels oddly familiar. Even the seemingly put-together characters, like Ron’s CEO Jeff (Lou Diamond Phillips), are one embarrassment away from unraveling. It’s a reminder that we’re all just one bad day away from becoming our own worst enemies.
So, is The Chair Company a comedy, a thriller, or a twisted reflection of ourselves? It’s all of the above. The cringe-worthy moments and unsettling unreality make it a tough watch, but for those tuned into Robinson’s wavelength, it’s utterly irresistible. Ron and his show are like an intrusive thought you can’t shake—silly, absurd, and yet, somehow, deeply relatable. Now, the question for you: Do you see Ron as a hero, a fool, or a mirror? Let’s debate in the comments.
