The sitcom “Detroiters,” which was added to Netflix this month, embraces the most delightful forms of stupidity, ridiculousness and friendship
The opening scene of the “Detroiters” pilot episode depicts hot tub retailer Eddie Champagne doubling over in pain after being doused with boiling hot water. The camera then pans over to reveal Tim Cramblin and Sam Duvet, the two advertising agents who thought showcasing Champagne’s misfortune would bring in customers, with wide eyes and smiling faces. They triumphantly revel in the stunt, while a still-hurt Champagne inexplicably joins in their celebration. Through stifled moans, he manages to shout one enthusiastic phrase at Cramblin and Duvet: “You guys are the kings of Detroit!”
This absurd, logic-defying scene sets the tone for the rest of “Detroiters,” which embraces a delightful lack of rationality throughout its 20 episodes. After the show’s debut on Comedy Central in 2017 and abrupt cancellation in 2018, “Detroiters” was added to Netflix’s catalog on Oct. 16 of this year. The sitcom, which is created by and stars Tim Robinson and Sam Richardson, focuses on the two owners of a local Detroit advertising company as they attempt to keep their firm afloat. Their client list is sparse, consisting mainly of wacky businesses like “Boom Teen Night Club” and “Husky Boys” clothing store. Still, Cramblin and Duvet aren’t worried. To them, as long as they remain friends, everything else will work itself out.
While watching “Detroiters,” I was struck by how wonderfully hilarious and impressively stupid the show is. The main plot often comes second to good-old-fashioned fun, allowing Cramblin and Duvet’s dynamic to take center stage. Whether they’re pitching ads, breaking office windows or acting as the other’s wingman, the pair’s humor is infectious.
Early on, it is revealed that Cramblin has permanently intertwined his life with Duvet’s by moving into the house next door and marrying Duvet’s sister. At night, the two chat by simply opening their bedroom windows, congratulating each other on a hard day’s work and exchanging ‘I love you’s’. This closeness, both physical and emotional, underscores the show’s core theme of friendship.
Watching “Detroiters” transports me back to three years ago, before I left Illinois for Missouri, when my best friend lived a mere 5 minutes away from me. Like the show’s pair, we are virtually inseparable. I can’t run errands, get coffee or even attend family dinners without also seeing if she wants to tag along. At the risk of sounding overly sentimental, she is the Duvet to my Cramblin. Spending a year and a half at MU without her has been challenging. The best friend who used to be my built-in plus one was replaced by an incomplete version of herself — one whose existence is contained to phone calls, FaceTimes and letters.
Yet, as I watch the show, I’m reminded of the complete best friend I know and love. Cramblin and Duvet’s laughs, bits and ridiculous conversations echo our own. For example, when they share optimal hot-dog eating tips with each other, I’m reminded of how she once insisted that the “proper way” to eat tortilla chips was to lick all the salt off first. Even though we are physically apart, watching the pair make fools out of themselves in an attempt to get a laugh from the other makes me feel like I’m sharing those moments with my best friend all over again.
While “Detroiters” is explicitly about two adult men who own a business, have wives and pay grown-up bills, Cramblin and Duvet maintain a youthful sort of whimsy that translates well to the college experience. Now that the show, which used to only be available via sketchy streaming services and dodgy pirating sites, is on Netflix’s catalog, I urge every student looking for a new series to give “Detroiters” a try. Perhaps, like me, you’ll find yourself reminiscing about hometown friends, or maybe you’ll simply get a good laugh. Either way, “Detroiters” will not leave you disappointed.
“Detroiters” embodies the joy of being ridiculous with someone who truly understands you. It may be proudly silly, but it is also a near-perfect depiction of friendship. As I navigate college life without my best friend, “Detroiters” is a comforting reminder that our bond remains strong. The show fills in the gaps left by distance with new laughter and old memories, making this new chapter of my life feel a little less lonely.
Edited by Ava McCluer | amccluer@themaneater.com
Copy edited by Chase Pray and Emma Short | eshort@themaneater.com
Edited by Emily Skidmore | eskidmore@themaneater.com