When Mitch Yost rises several inches above the ground, he thinks he’s just hallucinating from a brain tumor. He doesn’t realize he has supernatural powers, or at least, begin to make the realization, until his son witnesses the rising, observing that it is, in fact, no hallucination. This inability to self-diagnose is felt throughout the pilot of 'John from Cincinnati,' and not just in its unevenly portrayed characters. 'John from Cincinnati' is in a perpetual identity crisis: it just doesn’t know who or what it is. In the past, HBO has been the ideal medium for genre mixing, notably with the epic tragicomedy of 'The Sopranos' and the serial dramedy of 'Six Feet Under.' Both dramas depended on the unprecedented enormity in depth of its characters to create compelling ambiguous genre moments. On the other hand, 'Deadwood' creator David Milch’s 'John from Cincinatti' uses people who only vaguely resemble well-developed characters, depending solely on the conceptual to unsuccessfully create the same thing.
The Yost family is dysfunctional, but not dysfunctional like the Fishers or the Sopranos. Tolstoy’s belief that no unhappy family is alike may be true, but all the interestingly unhappy ones, or the ones that make good TV, have one thing in common: each and every member of the family elicits some type of sympathy in those who are watching. In the first hour of 'John from Cincinnati,' the dysfunction of the Yost family couldn’t be more apparent, but it also couldn’t be more self-conscious. Rebecca De Mornay’s spunky Cissy Yost admits her marriage is a wreck. The entire Yost family seems to be a shipwreck, with the exception of the talented young surfer Shaun. The shipwreck, however, is completely above the water. Nothing is submerged about the Yost family’s anger, making the experience of watching their fights a wholly unstimulating one.
The probably related mysteries of John, a newcomer to Imperial beach who constantly repeats whatever is said to him, and the seemingly supernatural power of Mitch are as submerged as 'John from Cincinnati'’s characters are un-submerged. The noir of the surf noir is too unclear. It’s like trying to solve a mystery without knowing what the mystery is. Juxtaposing the exaggeratedly cryptic material of the noir with the superficiality of the surf is potentially a fascinating combination, but in 'John from Cincinnati' it mysteriously fails to work.
Ed O’Neill’s inexplicably bitter friend of the Yost family stands out among otherwise lackluster characters. His frustration and powerlessness over knowing what’s going on around him is a lot like what the viewer feels. It’s a frustration and a powerlessness that may, surprisingly, keep the viewer reeled in like a helpless fish. Lethal curiosity is the only reason to watch 'John from Cincinnati.' It may be deadly, but it’s still a reason.
