It sometimes seems like In the Know, Peacock’s new stop-motion animated sendup of NPR liberalism, is stuck in one gear. Co-created by Zach Woods, Brandon Gardner, and Mike Judge, the series peeks behind the scenes of the eponymous NPR talk show hosted by Lauren Caspian (voiced by Woods), a walking (or puppeted) caricature of an obnoxious, navel-gazing progressive. He’s the kind of coastal elite who constantly self-identifies as an ally but talks over women and people of color, often to prove he’s read the latest anti-racist book. He insistently deploys contemporary political terminology not to make others feel comfortable but to demonstrate his own bona fides. In short, Lauren anxiously virtue signals that he’s “woke” because he’s painfully insecure about being perceived as anything less than pure.
Lauren’s hyper-exaggerated characterization, crafted by people who are clearly “in on the joke,” could only offend the most thin-skinned of likeminded viewers, most of whom would also roll their eyes if they ever crossed paths with such an irritating bundle of neuroses. Yet the show’s self-deprecating attitude towards its target(s) can’t erase the fact that mocking hyperbolic liberal hypocrisy feels like shooting fish in a barrel. Of course someone who would bring an unhoused person to work just to brag about their own compassion, or force their Black colleague to attend a race symposium due to their paranoid fear of unconscious racism, obviously cares more about optics than actual sensitivity. But the satire fails to hit close to home because Lauren resembles a collection of exasperating traits more than an actual human being. It's difficult to skewer a personality when you muffle explicit identification. Ideology aside, Lauren irritates in the way any other self-absorbed, supercilious boss who overtaxes his co-workers would.
Thankfully, In the Know’s supporting cast provides a refreshing counterpoint. Sound engineer Carl (Cart Tart) and producer Barb (Succession's J. Smith Cameron) are the adults in the room, trying to corral their eccentric employees into doing their jobs. Both also deal with their fair share of ill-treatment from Lauren, who tokenizes Carl for being Black and conveys open contempt for Barb—a terminally kind former war journalist who admirably maintains a smile every day—for ostensibly representing their corporate benefactors. Meanwhile, the sexually fluid frat bro intern Chase (Charlie Bushnell) and the show’s resident Boomer burnout film critic Sandy (Judge, the show’s standout) round out the cast by playing comic relief.
It’s telling that both of those last two characters feel more human than the series’ protagonist despite their patently ridiculous personalities. (The show has the most fun with Sandy because of his tenuous connection to reality; when he’s not making dated references to Hunter S. Thompson or Iggy Pop’s Zombie Birdhouse, he’s losing a battle to a breast pump in one episode and eagerly accepting a foreskin graft in another.)
In the Know’s most impressive coup lies in the tossed-off specificity of its secondary characters, from Barb’s dead husband whose murder remains unsolved to Chase’s ridiculous sexual exploits. Somehow, they resemble real people. Even Fabian (Caitlin Reilly)—the show’s abrasive, militantly progressive researcher, who frequently stages protests over minor issues and makes Lauren look semi-reasonable with her politics—occasionally expresses identifiable vulnerability and self-reflection behind her confrontational façade… something that Lauren only manages to do in a limited capacity.
Though In the Know’s six episodes feature standard sitcom plots, each are enlivened by the series’ stop-motion animation, courtesy of ShadowMachine studio; every ounce of humanistic motion from the puppet characters seems downright miraculous. Stop-motion uniquely foregrounds the labor of crafting even the tiniest actions, which itself can be a joy to watch, but In the Know impressively reminds the audience of the creative sweat and toil without turning it into the show’s sole takeaway. In fact, in spite of its occasionally slack pacing and comedic pitfalls, the series successfully immerses viewers into stories and relationships so that it’s not constantly spotlighting its own creative seams. And when there is a bravura sequence, the animation speaks for itself.
In the Know’s other notable—and so far weakest—element is Lauren’s NPR-style interviews for his radio show, which he conducts over video with live-action guests in the vein of the classic surrealist series Space Ghost: Coast to Coast. These improvised scenes should theoretically be the most freewheeling, especially considering Woods’ improv gifts, but they're noticeably strained. The guests—including Norah Jones, Ken Burns, and Roxanne Gay—quickly pick up on the bit and either openly laugh at Lauren’s queries or struggle to match his energy. While a show like Space Ghost edited its interviews for maximum absurdity, In the Know mostly uses them as a vehicle to highlight Lauren’s myopia, which naturally requires a strong scene partner. Alas, that describes almost none of the guests, despite their respective talents in other areas.
Woods has been a comedic ringer for the better part of a decade, invigorating shows like Silicon Valley with expert supporting turns. But his voice performance here is shackled to a one-note character. In the Know intends Lauren to be a restrained David Brent-type boss (or, if you prefer, Michael Scott-type boss): someone whose needy, grating personality negatively impacts the workplace. But he's a comedic black hole of a character. It’s a testament to In the Know that the rest of the series effectively compensates for such a shortcoming, helping it flourish in spite of the problem at its center—an arrangement that can't help but neatly and ironically reflect the premise of the show.