‘Deli Boys’ Review: Hulu’s Upbeat Crime Comedy Is Mostly Empty Calories

The comedy series titled “Deli Boys” on Hulu begins by humorously depicting the American dream. In an overly confident video addressed to shareholders, Baba Dar (played by Iqbal Theba) reminisces about his journey from Pakistan in 1979 with a strong determination and willpower as his only possessions. After four decades (and the creation of large coffee cups designed for cup holders), this perseverance has led him to establish a chain of convenience stores that spans across the Philadelphia tri-state region.

Through an unexpected golf mishap that claims his life, Baba’s (Saagar Shaikh/Raj and Asif Ali/Mir uncover) a more sinister truth behind his success in America – one that aligns with the grim American stereotype of the immigrant mobster. Over the course of 10 episodes, the series Deli Boys blends various elements to reveal the gap between the father they believed they knew and the man he truly was: drug escapades and gunfights, parodies of The Godfather and comedic fish-out-of-water situations.

However, it’s reminiscent of a quick snack you’d buy from a local store like the Dars’, such as a Tastykake – it may taste satisfying initially, but it lacks the depth and nourishment required for a complete meal.

In a way typical of prosperous TV families, Baba’s achievement is epitomized by his sons seeming to lack purpose. Raj, the eldest, is the stereotypical spoiled heir, content with squandering his days on drug use and casual relationships. Mir, however, is more driven and hardworking, shaping himself into a potential successor to Baba’s business empire. Yet, he’s so green that despite years of loyal service to the company, he’s never even suspected it might be implicated in tax evasion – not to mention potentially operating a cocaine distribution network from its store basements and hidden corridors.

The two siblings swiftly learn about their new roles as co-CEOs of an undercover operation following Baba’s death, which leaves a power gap. With doubts from their own subordinates about their leadership, rival Philly lords eyeing their territory and an aggressive FBI agent (Alexandra Ruddy’s Mercer) pursuing an arrest, the initial episodes heavily emphasize the absurdity of the brothers adapting to their new lifestyle. Their first assassination attempt turns out to be disastrous, leading them to even offer the target a final meal consisting of Slim Jims and ice cream while they wait for him to perish.

Simultaneously, they argue – about professional issues such as strategies for capturing an elusive suspect, but also over trivial matters like who delivers a better British accent and if it’s worth investing in AMC+ for “Better Call Saul”. It takes a few instances for Ali and Shaikh’s dynamic to harmonize, and it never quite reaches the intended level of contention or warmth as portrayed in the scripts. However, Ali fits the part of the serious character convincingly, and Shaikh manages to be surprisingly endearing in his role as the individual who genuinely refers to himself as “the vibes guy”.

As a seasoned gamer, I find the characters in this game particularly engaging, especially those who’ve already got a knack for the underworld business. Brian George, playing Ahmad, the top lieutenant, is hilariously disgruntled, constantly yearning for the “good old days” when crime was less paperwork-heavy and more rule by the patriarch. Poorna Jagannathan, portraying Lucky, Baba’s trusted confidante, seems to be having a blast. She’s dispatching armed thugs with ease and delivering lines like, “You’re as soft as my ex-boyfriend when he’s not strangling,” that would make even the toughest guys flinch. The usual crew is joined by an array of vibrant newcomers such as Zubair (Tan France from Queer Eye), a surprisingly stylish British gangster, and Gigi (Sofia Black-D’Elia), a mafia daughter who’s scarier than most men on her daddy’s payroll.

Creator Abdullah Saeed discovers some unique elements within the narrative of “Dars”, particularly its Pakistani-American setting. The concept of a mob’s body disposal specialist isn’t entirely novel, but in this series, the character (Usman Ally) casually refers to himself as the “murderwalla.” Moreover, I can’t recall any other smuggling plotlines where the pungent aroma of mango pickle (“If your child doesn’t face bullying from white children in their class when they take that out of their lunch box, it’s not Caca brand achar!” Mir explains to a potential client) plays a significant role.

However, the issue isn’t that the show is devoid of enjoyable intricacies; rather, it seems constructed solely from these small details, arranged into 30-minute segments that are consistently enjoyable yet forgettable. In comparison to other lighter crime series like Netflix’s more playful and sugary “The Brothers Sun” or self-aware stylish “The Gentlemen”, “Deli Boys” feels rather insubstantial.

Though Mir and Raj appear to mourn their unknown father, there’s a lack of genuine emotional depth in their expressions. Contrary to expectations, the series fails to offer an insightful take on the ambiguous boundary between ruthless corporate capitalism and organized crime that it portrays. Moreover, while the humor occasionally veers into excessive absurdity, such as the gory horror B-movie effect following Baba’s head injury, Deli Boys generally steers clear of delving too deeply into dark or unusual humor.

As a fan, I appreciate the simple joy of watching Jagannathan disarm a mercenary with ease, only to have him ask her out later. It’s understandable for a comedy to rely on familiar tropes and shallow themes for light-hearted enjoyment. However, it feels somewhat disappointing when a potential opportunity to offer a fresh perspective on the gangster genre is missed. Instead, it appears that the narrative is content to recline on the couch, echoing lines from “The Godfather,” which, in its own way, represents a more modest interpretation of the American dream.

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2025-03-05 17:54