'It's Florida, Man' review: A mean meme gets a dose of humanity

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It's Florida, Man is here to make you rethink the meme that simultaneously celebrates and denigrates a particular brand of American eccentric. From the producers of The Righteous Gemstones, this new HBO Original plays like Drunk History meets The Jinx, walking a fine line between enlightened empathy and smirking exploitation.

For those unfamiliar, the title of "Florida Man" comes from the headlines of shocking news stories out of the Sunshine State, specifically those that succinctly paint a ludicrous picture of debauchery, destruction, or embarrassment. From this, the Florida Man meme rose to prominence on social media, sharing snippets of outrageous stories for easy laughs, carelessly turning perpetrators and victims alike into punchlines.

Created by Mark Herwick, It's Florida, Man offers those who survived their brushes with being the butt end of the meme to speak for themselves. Bringing buoyancy and a bit of star power to the show's dedicatedly humorous re-enactments is a cavalcade of guest stars that includes Anna Faris, Randall Park, Jake Johnson, Juliette Lewis, Simon Rex, Ego Nwodim, and Sam Richardson.

From episode to episode, the tone can shift radically, as the team behind It's Florida, Man seems uneasy in turning everything into comedy fodder. But overall, there's something undeniably charming about these Florida men and women who refuse to be defined by internet snark and 15 minutes of infamy.

What's It's Florida, Man about?

Ego Nwodim and Sam Richardson co-star in "Toes" in "It's Florida, Man." Credit: HBO

Before each of six episodes, an opening narration from King of the Hill alum and native Floridian Stephen Root promises the following:

"What you're about to see may be dangerous, petty, misguided, but most definitely stupid. But it's also all true. Sort of."

The first four episodes released to critics involve a saucy plan for vengeance, a feud between a professional mermaid and a practicing witch, an alligator-attacked optimist, and a pair of friends who take on a terrifyingly toe-curling Craigslist ad. In each of these instances, It's Florida, Man sits down with the subjects, allowing them to tell these stories in their own words. Some of these words will be repeated by the comedic performers, bringing a broad humor to the re-enactments. But some lines are best from the source.

For instance, in episode two, "Gator," self-proclaimed Florida Man Eric Merda declares of the dubious distinction, "I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I'll stab you with the sharpest tool!"

It's Florida, Man proudly showcases a rough-edged charm.

Of the first four episodes, "Gator" is the most compelling. Simon Rex stars as Eric Merda, whose brush with an alligator left him with one arm. Leaning into the same crooked comedic sensibility of the critically acclaimed dramedy Red Rocket, Rex is radiant with a sunburned vulnerability. Whether gathering trash on the side of the road or swimming peacefully in a gator-infested lake, Rex carries with him a jubilance that is not only appealing but also reflects the energy of Merda in his interviews.

This Florida Man tells the documentarians that many see his story as a tragedy, but he sees it as a new beginning. "Gator" portrays that version convincingly through Merda's lens. In this way, It's Florida, Man evangelizes for the fantastic freedom of letting go of other people's perceptions of you. Who cares what social media or an interviewed psychic might say about the spiritual vision Merda swears he encountered in the swamp? As goofy as this story begins, Merda's moxie and message of personal renewal are inspiring.

Merda's the first to admit he was a "piece of shit" who made a wildly foolish mistake that got him grievously injured. But he's happy with where he ended up, so he appreciates the whole of the experience, limb loss and all! This joyous portrait complicates the idea of a Florida Man, which seems to be the purpose of this curious series. People who have been written off by the internet as rednecks or worse are given a chance to share not only their internal logic behind these questionable decisions, but also their personality, their humor, and their humanity.

However, not every episode is so successful.

"Mermaids" is a low point in It's Florida, Man.

Anna Faris appears in "Mermaids" in "It's Florida, Man." Credit: HBO

In the trailer, "Mermaids" seems absolutely delightful, featuring Anna Farris and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia's Mary Elizabeth Ellis as warring professional mermaids in a kitschy battle that would be well-suited to a Kristen Wiig movie. However, gruff words poolside lead swiftly to unemployment, online harassment, and ultimately police corruption being exposed.

While "Toes" and "Saucy" involve more violent incidents, "Mermaids" veers the most into true crime drama, specifically recalling the tense docuseries Fear Thy Neighbor (also on Max). Sure, mermaid costumes involving shimmery, rubber fish tails and naked witchcraft rituals make for flashy headlines. But within this show, that’s not enough to make this story funny, especially when the suffering is ongoing.

At one point, harassed mermaid Whitney Fair (whose story is at the heart of this episode) breaks down into tears recounting the events. The documentarians let the camera run as a crew member comforts her through this rough moment on camera. Moments like this are common in straight-faced true crime documentaries. Such shots reveal the raw pain that lies beneath a practiced brave face — the kind that victims are socialized to wear when recalling the worst day of their life for an audience that's a little too eager to witness it. The same is true in It's Florida, Man.

Fair's guard is dropped, and we can see the emotional strain this feud has had beyond the headlines. With that, it’s much harder to laugh at the re-enactments, no matter how gleefully kitschy Ferris and Ellis are in their roles. As such, this episode doesn't bolster Fair's perspective; it seems to mock her, undercutting the show's overarching empathy and revealing us as the detail-hungry audience members we truly are.

It's Florida, Man is downright addictive.

Juliette Lewis appears in "It's Florida, Man." Credit: HBO

There is certainly an element of parody to the comic portrayals, which use the interview subjects as a launching pad for physical comedy, goofy mugging, and kooky quips. But as is the case with The Righteous Gemstones or the work of the Coen Bros' country crime comedies, there’s also a joyous appreciation for this wonky American outlaw.

They may be petty, reckless, and even stupid, but there is a reason they fascinate us. Perhaps you read a Florida Man headline and chuckle. But don’t you also wonder what led to that moment? Incredibly, hearing the full story doesn’t make these tall tales any smaller. It personalizes them, urging us to see their subjects as people are not punchlines. You’ll likely be giggling, guffawing, and repeating in shock some of the witticisms or rejoinders that these interviewees share with incredible generosity of spirit. But you also walk away with a deeper respect for the people who had a really wild time and came through the other side — perhaps not unscathed but still unapologetically themselves.

It's Florida, Man debuts on HBO Oct. 18 11:00 ET, and will also be available to stream on Max. New episodes air weekly.