This week’s episode of The Lowdown offers a dual narrative that’s anything but straightforward. On one hand, it’s a wild road-trip buddy comedy featuring Ethan Hawke and Peter Dinklage as two contrasting aging radicals united by the memory of a deceased friend, sparking a series of comedic mishaps. On the flip side, it’s a chilling exploration into the chaos of modern-day authoritarianism, where menacing figures wielding authority terrorize women while being shielded by their badges. It’s akin to sipping from a glass that’s both half-empty and half-full.

Let’s start with the lighter fare, which is undeniably entertaining to dissect. Enter Wendell (played by Dinklage), a former co-owner of Lee’s bookstore, who appears with a constant cloud of sarcasm, disdain, and marijuana smoke. As a hard-living, aging rebel, he holds little regard for what he perceives as Lee’s concessions to Oklahoma’s so-called elite, not to mention his questionable detective skills and chaotic shelving methods.

Despite their differences, Wendell insists that Lee join him for a day, a long-standing tradition they uphold in honor of their late friend Jésus, whose legacy they both claim to emulate. Initially, their relationship seems so contentious that it could be mistaken for enmity rather than friendship. However, as the episode unfolds, their antagonistic camaraderie reveals an underlying affection, suggesting that while they may bicker, there’s a deep-seated bond between them.

If you’re sensing a strong Walter and The Dude dynamic, you’re spot on, complete with Wendell’s knee-jerk disdain for anti-Semites. The episode also features a debate about Lee’s partner, Betty Jo, and a character named Jésus, echoing The Lowdown’s homage to The Big Lebowski.

Adding to the delight, the show nods to another Southwestern crime saga, the Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul universe, with Tina Parker, known for her role as Saul Goodman’s receptionist, appearing in a humorous cameo. She plays Sandy, a local official whom Wendell skillfully persuades to hand over old maps needed to trace a feud between Dale Washberg and his brother Donald. “This is fun,” Wendell quips with feigned sincerity. “This is easy, you and me.” The comedic timing in these moments is impeccable.

Anyway, Wendell is skeptical that the land, a patch of nowhere called Indian Head Hills, or Lee’s investigation into the Washbergs in general has anything behind it…until armed gunmen show up at Lee’s van, obviously on the hunt. Between this and a visit from the skinheads that security guard Henry has to break up with a gunshot in the air, Wendell seems to realize Lee really is risking it all for the truth. After a ritual airing of grievances, the two part on better terms. The way the camera lingers on Wendell as he walks away, however, indicates Lee is not convince his friend will make it to their next get-together.

The scarier side of the story is painted red, white, and Tulsa PD blue. In a series of scenes peppered throughout Lee and Wendell’s excellent adventure, right-wing gubernatorial candidate Donald Washberg punches through a cabinet inches from Betty Jo’s face, enraged that she slept with Lee. 

Donald then presides over a luncheon for “the 46,” an all-white boys’ club at which the elimination of the legal independence of Oklahoma’s Native American nations is urged by our old friend Frank Martin. It’s the kind of club where Frank, who brags about owning an authentic Nazi firearm, is seen as kind of wishy-washy. Apparently it’s up to him to facilitate that land deal through a series of shell corporations as a payout to Donald for future services rendered — bribery to most of us, though I believe the Supreme Court ruled it legal for reasons best known only to themselves and Harlan Crow.

Donald’s final role in the episode is positively luciferian. Washberg has cops abduct Lee and drag him to a private club that’s hosting an all-out police rager. Orgiastic exhibitionism, massive explosions, rampant gunfire, prodigious substance abuse: all of it is captured in a long, disorienting take, in a sequence that feels like an homage Matthew McConaughey and Woody Harrelson’s journey through the hellish biker compound in True Detective. The point is neither subtle nor inaccurate: The cops are a gang, too, and this gang works for a guy named Donald.

There’s one final thread weaving through the narrative: Marty goes on a date! His app match, played by Tisha Campbell, is quite charmed by him, but grows wary when she learns of his strange relationship with his employer. If they used to be friends but are no longer, she argues, then maybe it’s time to look closer at what he’s doing without you. Until Marty’s ready to do that, their first date will have to be their last.

I’ve watched enough TV with stacked casts this year to know talent alone can’t make a show good. That said, you really do have to try to screw up an episode that rests on the charms of Ethan Hawke, Peter Dinklage, Jeanne Tripplehorne, Kyle MacLachlan, Keith David, and Tisha Campbell. Those are some charming people! As a result, The Lowdown is a charming show.

Sean T. Collins (@seantcollins.com on Bluesky and theseantcollins on Patreon) has written about television for The New York Times, Vulture, Rolling Stone, and elsewhere. He is the author of Pain Don’t Hurt: Meditations on Road House. He lives with his family on Long Island.