Animation
Good Times
Netflix takes a classic sitcom, Good Times, and turns it into a vulgar, violent, sexually-charged TV-MA show.
“Now it’s time for another chapter of my triumphant, heartwarming, wonderfully inclusive, mostly true, rags-to-riches life story.”
So Maximo Ramos tells his nephew, Hugo, as they simultaneously set out for the Mexican resort city of Acapulco and make my first paragraph much easier to write.
Maximo sums up Apple TV+’s Acapulco quite neatly. Perhaps that’s a given: It is his story, after all, in all its triumphant, heartwarming inclusivity. But how did Maximo become the wealthy butler-hiring, jet-owning, Malibu mogul that he is in the present day? Well, he’ll tell Hugo—and us—all about it.
And it begins back in 1984.
Back then, Maximo was no mogul, just a humble pool boy at Acapulo’s salmon-colored Las Colinas resort. Best-friend Memo worked in the laundry. Love interest Julia was a receptionist.
For Maximo, the whole gig felt like a dream come true—until his love interest had the audacity to get engaged to someone else and Memo started secretly dating the head laundress’s daughter. And let’s not forget about his mother’s eye surgery or his sister’s sudden interest in girls or his supervisor’s hair gel or—
Yes, even the sunniest, most idyllic workplaces can get complicated in a hurry. One minute you’re handing out umbrella drinks to rich Americans, and the next your whole world is falling apart, your heart is broken, and drinking all those umbrella drinks yourself looks mighty tempting.
But thankfully, we know how this story ends. As bleak as things might look in any given season or any given episode, things will turn out—for Maximo—just fine.
And for us? Well, read on.
For a relatively small streaming service (relative, at least, to Netflix and Disney+), Apple TV+ has become a go-to stop for award-worthy movies and shows. It, not Netflix, scored the streaming industry’s first Best Picture Oscar with CODA. And Ted Lasso became a straight-up phenomenon, winning two straight Outstanding Comedy Series Emmys.
What would Apple (ahem) lasso for a sitcom follow-up? Many say it’s Acapulco.
Sure, not nearly as many people are watching this bilingual comedy. But those who are like what they see. Boasting a 100% “freshness” rating on Rotten Tomatoes (as of this writing), Acapulco doubles down on Lasso’s much-vaunted kindness and decency, too. It’s another show where nice guys finish first (even if they have to deal with a few fits and starts to get there).
One moment in the second season impressed me: Maximo babysits a jerkish tennis pro, hoping to get a healthy tip to pay off his mother’s eye operation. When the player’s “tip” amounts to encouraging Maximo to keep his eye on the ball during his backswing, Maximo decides to feed a bit of career-damaging dirt on the player to a local gossip journalist.
In the present, Maximo’s nephew Hugo is impressed. “You got the money and revenge!” And indeed, in many a sitcom, this would be a satisfying ending. Watch It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and its characters might root for the player to contract stomach cancer, too.
But Maximo tells Hugo that act of revenge actually launched the darkest part of his journey. “I crossed the line I shouldn’t have,” he tells Hugo. And while we’ll see him cross that same line again, it’s encouraging to think that he—and the show itself—recognizes that line exists.
Here’s another thing: While Ted Lasso gets full marks for its heart, it receives plenty of demerits for its mouth. The profanity comes in torrents on that show, and the sexual content therein is close behind.
By comparison, Acapulco (with most episodes rated TV-14) feels reasonably clean. Sure, it still has some language issues. But except for a very occasional s-word, it’s mostly stuff that you’d find on broadcast television.
Maximo did trumpet his life story as “wonderfully inclusive.” Accordingly, we do see some same-sex attraction on the show. More traditional pairings are critical to the show’s plot as well—including secret affairs and unwise trysts. But nothing critical is shown. Rarely does the camera venture away from Las Colinas’ sunny walkways and into one of the resort’s bedrooms. And given that Maximo’s family is pretty religious, it even has a touch of faith content, too.
In summary, Acapulco is not a perfect vacation spot. But for those who want to find a much-praised show with a sunny disposition, and who don’t mind dealing with a bit of seaweed on the content beach, this Apple TV+ show may be worth checking into.
Maximo is still trying to recover from the emotional aftermath of the resort’s New Year’s Eve party—including his love interest’s surprise engagement son Chad, the son of the resort’s owner. But he’s determined to make a fresh start—beginning with trying to get his best friend, Memo, out of the laundry room and into pool duties. Alas, Hector, the head pool boy, wants a special favor from Maximo to even interview Memo: A chair with wheels on it. (“Who’s heard of a boss’s chair that doesn’t have wheels on it?” Hector asks.) Meanwhile, Maximo’s mother, Nora, is worried that her daughter has same-sex leanings.
Nora confesses as much to a shrine set up to honor her late husband. “Remember when we suspected your Uncle Ramon was maybe not just a fun, single bachelor his whole life?” She asks her husband’s picture. “I’m starting to wonder if our daughter is an Uncle Ramon!”
Daughter Sara is indeed an “Uncle Ramon,” and she’s gotten Maximo to pretend to date her secret girlfriend (Roberta). Nora tells Sara to stop spending so much time with Roberta, encouraging her to show some interest in guys (trying to trigger that interest by talking about the boy band Menudo). “You’re the only mom I know who wants her daughter to spend more time with boys!” Sara says.
Hector makes a reference to his sexual relationship with the resort owner, Diane, admitting it helped to get him the job as head pool boy. The head of the laundry facilities schemes to fire Memo in retaliation for “cuddling” with her daughter. There’s an allusion to handcuffs that could be interpreted sexually. We see guests in bathing suits. Someone wears a shoulder-baring dress, and Hector wears extraordinarily short-shorts.
Nora crosses Maximo as a gesture of good luck. There’s a reference to someone flipping their middle finger. Diane talks about how she and some would-be investors drunk each other under the table—literally. A character swipes small things from the resort as a statement of protest. We hear the f-word stand-in “freaking” along with a handful of actual profanities (“d–n,” “jacka–”) and two misuses of God’s name.
In an effort to help Maximo get ahead, resort supervisor Don Pablo asks him to be a dedicated, personal concierge for a famous tennis player staying there. But wires get crossed, and he winds up being a dedicated, personal concierge to two of them. Meanwhile, when Maximo’s mother, Nora, catches her daughter (Sara) and her secret girlfriend (Roberta) sitting entirely too close together, Sara needs to spin a new lie to explain herself.
Roberta, as far as Nora’s concerned, is actually Maximo’s girlfriend—a lie that Sara foisted on Maximo as a way to hide her relationship with Roberta. Now, Sara tells Nora that she was merely comforting Roberta after Maximo broke up with her for another, wholly fictitious girl. (He walks in on a house full of scowling women—two of whom know he hasn’t cheated on anyone—and must quickly play along to keep the ruse going.) Though the lies work, Roberta ultimately breaks up with Sara, pushing her away before the two can kiss.
Someone threatens bodily damage to Memo, either by cutting off his foot or a more private part of his anatomy. (Memo’s not sure which.) Hector wears extraordinarily small short-shorts. (Someone worries he might see something he shouldn’t because of them.)
We hear about a religious tradition associated with Three Kings Day (January 6): If someone finds a miniature representation of the Baby Jesus, that person is responsible for bringing tamales to the crew on Feb. 2. (Maximo’s on the hook for the tamales this year.) Diane tells Maria (who’s engaged to marry her son, Chad) that choosing December for a marriage date is a terrible decision, because “you’re competing with Baby Jesus.” There’s a reference to mango margaritas. Maximo makes an unethical decision, albeit one to pay for her mother’s eye operation. A cross hangs on a wall.
We hear an s-word, along with one or two uses of “a–” and “b–tard.” God’s name is misused twice.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
Netflix takes a classic sitcom, Good Times, and turns it into a vulgar, violent, sexually-charged TV-MA show.
While its protagonist might live a nuanced life, The Sympathizer’s problematic content can’t be described the same way.
Say hola once again to the iconic explorer in this faithful reboot of the children’s series.
Based on a popular video game, Ark: The Animated Series features hungry dinosaurs, bloodthirsty people and plenty of problems.
