Malcolm in the Middle: Life's Still Unfair

The useful question for a television reunion is what has changed, beyond the cast getting older. Malcolm in the Middle: Life’s Still Unfair gives Malcolm some unfinished business with his childhood and brings the family together across four episodes. We find it funny enough to justify the visit, though its attempts to discuss the harm behind the comedy can become laborious. Director Ken Kwapis is most persuasive when he lets the performers get on with being difficult in one another’s company.

Frankie Muniz has the awkward task of making Malcolm’s reckoning with his childhood fit inside a family comedy that thrives on refusing to behave. He gives the material enough feeling to keep it from becoming merely a list of grievances. But the writing team, including Linwood Boomer and Matthew Carlson, sometimes seems more interested in explaining Malcolm than in finding something funny for him to do. We understand why the childhood matters; the time spent discussing it is still time during which the comedy has to wait.

Cranston, as Hal, makes the strongest case for coming back. We laughed at his physical comedy because he makes the family’s inability to behave look so effortful and so ridiculous. Jane Kaczmarek’s Lois gives the reunion much of its force, and she remains compelling even when the material around her is familiar. Cranston and Kaczmarek also make the warmth credible, which matters in a programme about people who can be exhausting to spend time with.

Michael Weaver’s cinematography keeps our attention on the cast, while David Willson’s production design never becomes the main attraction. That suits a comedy whose strongest resource is how these people behave around one another. Shane Eli Abrahams and Jonny Pakfar’s music makes less impression. Our response to Hal and Lois comes from the actors, without much need for musical encouragement.

The shortage of space is harder to overlook. Justin Berfield’s Reese and Christopher Masterson’s Francis are part of an ensemble that also has to accommodate Keeley Karsten’s Leah, Vaughan Murrae’s Kelly and Kiana Madeira’s Tristan. Four episodes are not much in which to make so many people count. Steve Welch’s editing cannot quite make the reunion feel like four comfortably shaped instalments, and the switches between family uproar and personal reflection expose the problem. Too often, another character gets an appearance when they need something substantial to do.

The reunion is at least interested in what it feels like to look back on a childhood everyone else remembers as entertaining. That is a worthwhile complication for a family sitcom, and Muniz gives it some weight. The problem is how often the writing treats explanation as sufficient in itself. Some familiar behaviour still produces a laugh, but the weaker jokes depend too heavily on our pleasure at seeing these people again.

Existing affection for this family will help, especially when the programme asks for patience with another explanation. Anyone arriving without it may find the crowded ensemble harder to take to. Come back for Cranston and Kaczmarek, and accept that the family now expects a little too much credit for talking things through.