Tim Robinson’s The Chair Company: A ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ for the Conspiracy Dad
Ron Trosper is experiencing a breakdown. *The Chair Company*, an HBO comedy scheduled to premiere on October 12, chronicles the deterioration of this suburban father, portrayed by co-creator Tim Robinson. Trosper becomes convinced he has uncovered a criminal conspiracy following a minor workplace slight. However, this perceived plot often manifests as common modern frustrations. “You can’t reach anyone,” Ron complains as his investigation leads him into the depths of customer service hell. “That’s the core issue with the world today. People manufacture *inferior products*, and you can’t speak to anyone. You can’t register a grievance, you can’t get an apology. I want to yell at them!”
The character will be recognizable to anyone familiar with Robinson’s body of work. In his Netflix sketch series * and recent film *, the comedian often depicts men who are comically, uncontrollably enraged for reasons they don’t fully comprehend. Through his meticulous fault-finding and self-absorption, the resonance of his complaints and his unrestrained methods of addressing them, Ron also resembles a younger, Middle American iteration of Larry David. He is a superb character—brought to life with the volatile blend of awkwardness and fury Robinson has perfected, and placed in situations that are humorous due to their absurdity, yet also pertinent to contemporary dissatisfactions despite their surreal elements. This entertainment value largely compensates for the show’s somewhat disjointed narrative.
Ron is, simultaneously, an ordinary man and a collection of insecurities. At home, he finds himself overshadowed by an impressive wife (Lake Bell) and teenage son (Will Price), as well as his daughter’s (Sophia Lillis) impending wedding. (She and her fiancée intend to marry in a “haunted barn.”) With his dream business venture having failed, he has returned to a demanding role at a construction company. A single misstep is enough to send him spiraling into paranoia. Sometimes his pursuit of truth takes on the characteristics of a classic thriller—involving clandestine meetings in dive bars and veiled threats from shadowy figures in parking lots. Other times, Ron acts as a perpetually online Larry, drafting lengthy complaints into customer support forms and verbally assailing chatbots.

Robinson’s comedic style may not be ideally suited for a longform narrative. Writer-director Andrew DeYoung’s *Friendship*, which featured him as a lonely individual who befriends, then alienates, and subsequently becomes fixated on a charismatic neighbor (John Early), contains excellent moments but falters midway through due to a predictable plot. Across the six *Chair Company* episodes I viewed (out of eight), Robinson and co-creator Zach Kanin primarily utilize conspiracy thriller tropes to connect characters and scenarios that are, in themselves, highly amusing, rather than making the thriller aspect itself funny.
Robinson possesses a brilliant ability to channel society’s underlying toxic energies, in abstract yet strikingly evocative ways, through his peculiar alter egos. *Friendship* functions as a distorted reflection of the male loneliness crisis. Nevertheless, his comedic sensibility is most impactful in the concise scenarios of *I Think You Should Leave*. From the man incessantly making inappropriate comments on an “adult” ghost tour to the one in a hot dog costume who adamantly denies involvement in the crash of a hot-dog-shaped vehicle, these characters embody the anger, deceitfulness, immaturity, and resistance to accountability that characterize many influential men today, without explicitly delving into politics.
The protagonist of *The Chair Company* represents the flip side of this dynamic: a disempowered man whose earnestness only leads to embarrassment, and whose attempts to assign blame for his misfortunes only deepen his predicament. Ron’s crusade against corporate opaqueness (and poor quality) never generates substantial suspense. But whether he is perceived as an everyman Larry David or a contemporary David challenging an anonymous Goliath, his struggle is sure to resonate.