“You know what I wish I could buy?” he says. “This! Being you guys. A real guy with an ordinary job.”
Henry, who notes that the star will be taken by his driver to a luxury hotel room to party with several women after the event, finds that hard to believe. But Jackal Onassis, out of his stage makeup, perfectly disguised in a white shirt and pink bow tie, loves playing bartender for the evening at his own party. He relishes being insulted by a guest, and later, even enjoys being fired.
It’s painful for Henry to see the work he already resents treated like a fun little game, but the show is particularly great at drawing out the brief, intense tensions and alliances that can form over the course of one night between workers and guests. The caterers have a bad habit of getting involved, giving a 16-year-old a pep talk when her friends don’t show up to her party, or attempting to walk a very drunk and disoriented guest home.
When the new season begins, years have passed and characters have aged, but they continue to reassure themselves, and one another, that their misery is temporary: Their real job and their real life are just around the corner.
Or are they? “Party Down” doesn’t seem to believe in the vague, Hollywood dream of “making it.” The show is more interested in the unlikely sweetness and meaning and friendship that can come from all of the time that’s not supposed to count, moment to moment, day to day, year to year, before some imagined big break.
Most of the show’s scenes take place in the liminal spaces of clients’ homes and venues — back kitchens, garages, tents, hallways and lots. The comedy unfolds as the characters cut limes and unpack plates and silverware, light the flames for chafing dishes, put the final garnishes on snacks, or pack up the van and break down the bar.
