What if Joey Tribbiani actually could play a convincing doctor? Or better yet, what if the plan all along was for Matt LeBlanc to secretly wait until after Friends (and Joey) to deliver his real best sitcom performance? Because as much as audiences love the Central Perk crew, Episodes is where LeBlanc finally got to drop the “How you doin’?” act and try his hand at something smarter, weirder, and more self-aware. In more ways than one, Episodes is far from yet another post-Friends paycheck gig. The show offered a hilarious send-up of Hollywood nonsense, British TV snobbery, and the chaos that ensues when both worlds collide over a terrible sitcom remake.
Right in the middle of it all is Matt LeBlanc playing a deeply unhinged version of himself. Here, we have an actor with way too much fame, little to no shame, and the right amount of charm to get away with it. This isn’t about comparing laughs per minute or using nostalgia as a crutch. It’s about recognizing that Episodes gave LeBlanc the rare chance to make fun of the very machine that made him famous. The result is a sitcom that’s funnier, riskier, and arguably way more impressive than the one where he shared a fridge with Chandler.
‘Episodes’ Lets Matt LeBlanc Be Messy and Fake and It’s Genius
At first, Matt LeBlanc in Episodes gives you a few Joey Tribbiani vibes, except that this version comes with a better house and worse decisions. He’s charming, self-deprecating, and plays dumb when it helps him skate by. But as the plot unravels, that “nice guy” exterior starts to crack. Episodes shines through in the way it takes that easy, likable image most people have of LeBlanc and steadily exposes what it might really be like to work with someone who’s only “nice” when it suits them. He flirts shamelessly, interrupts writing decisions, manipulates situations, and then — boom — he sleeps with Beverly (Tamsin Greig). Not because he’s in love, not because they’ve built any kind of real connection. In fact, the pair could hardly stand each other for most of the first season. He simply did it because “why not?” She was upset with her husband, Sean (Stephen Mangan), and he knew how to press the right buttons.
The kicker here is that he doesn’t even seem that sorry. When Sean finds out about the indiscretion, Matt’s “apology” is more awkward than sincere. It’s easy to get the sense that he’s more upset about losing Sean’s approval than blowing up a marriage. Even after the most pathetic (and cinnamon-scented) fistfight in TV history, Matt is still somewhat of a permanent fixture in the lives because, of course, the fictional series they are writing, Pucks, gets picked up. So, they are forced to keep working together. It’s these little details that make the Episodes special because it’s glaringly clear that the show isn’t interested in tidy resolutions. It digs into what happens when the guy who seems like your friend on the surface turns out to be way more self-serving than you thought, and then you still have to see him every day at work. Three words: brutal, funny, and perfect.
The Fake Show in ‘Episodes’ Is a Genius Roast of Bad TV
It’s a tale as old as time. A British show gets turned into a broader, flashier version that somehow loses all the things that made it special. Well, Episodes takes that entire mess and turns it into the perfect running joke. At the center of it is Pucks, the fake show that Sean and Beverly are forced to rewrite. The British version, Lyeman’s Boys, was a sharp, witty series about a wise old boarding school teacher played by their friend Julian (Richard Griffiths). Its American counterpart is an over-produced sitcom about a hockey coach yelling at kids. It’s the kind of transformation that feels painfully familiar if you’ve ever watched the remakes of Skins, The Inbetweeners, or Life on Mars.
Matt LeBlanc’s casting as the lead in Pucks takes the hilarity of the situation to a whole other level because he’s totally wrong for the part, and Episodes knows it. Watching the network slowly chip away at Sean and Beverly’s vision, replacing meaningful moments with fart jokes and pratfalls, is like watching someone set fire to a great book and then adapt the ashes. But through all this, Episodes is nothing short of a good sport, and it turns the whole thing into comedy gold. So, every time viewers get a peek at a cheesy scene from Pucks, they’re most likely laughing at how bad it is and how accurate the satire is. All in all, Episodes roasts the very industry it’s part of, with a wink and a whole lot of “yep, that tracks.”
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‘Episodes’ Is Proof That Being the Good Guy in Hollywood Doesn’t Last Long
You don’t get black and white in Episodes, just a whole lot of gray coupled with some extremely bad judgment. The narrative itself starts as a simple story about two well-meaning British writers at the peak of their careers trying to adapt their wholesome sitcom for American TV. Somewhere along the line, it becomes this gloriously messy character study where there’s really no moral compass. When we’re introduced to them, Sean and Beverly are set up as rational, thoughtful outsiders looking in on the bizarre world of Hollywood politics. Then Beverly sleeps with Matt, Sean sleeps with Morning (Mircea Monroe), and then Beverly sleeps with Morning’s brother. And suddenly, you’re watching the kind of relationship spiral that feels like the start of a very chaotic therapy retreat.
Matt LeBlanc doesn’t help either, and perhaps that’s what makes it so good. He’s charming, manipulative, and immature, but occasionally he throws in some weirdly sincere behavior. So, one moment, you think he’s a selfish jerk, then in Season 1, Episode 4, he’s turning up drunk at his ex-wife’s house just to sit in silence and watch his sons sleep. It’s messy and not at all okay, but in that moment, Matt’s heartbreak feels unexpectedly real. Even Bev, who normally has zero patience for Hollywood antics, goes soft on him. For a second, you forget the fame, the ego, the Jamba Juice hookups, and all you’re left with is a guy who doesn’t know how to be alone. Even Carol (Kathleen Rose Perkins), who seems like the network’s emotional punching bag, reveals layers of calculated ambition under the deadpan sweetness. In a nutshell, this isn’t the grounds for easy heroes and villains. Instead, Episodes builds tension by letting everyone mess up in ways that feel incredibly real.