Sterling Archer is a man of simple taste: booze, women, and turtlenecks; a man whose charisma would leave James Bond bawling tears of jealous bewilderment. This is a secret agent who will stop at nothing to contain Soviet communism, as long as it doesn’t interfere with his drinking and never-ending quest to find his father (who may or may not be the head of the KGB).
Archer puts the viewer right at the heart of American espionage during what we assume is the 1950s. It revolves around its eponymous hero, a narcissistic agent working for his overbearing mother at ISIS, the world’s most inept spy agency. Run by Malory Archer, the agency divides its time between covering up her less than legitimate relationship with the KGB, and serving as the family’s personal piggy bank.
The show is a side-splitting tale of incompetence, from the masochistic secretary whose name might be Carol, Cheryl, Cristal, or Karina, depending on whom you ask, to the downright creepy Dr. Algernop Krieger and his virtual Japanese girlfriend. Every character, no matter how minor, is a mess in their own way and probably addicted to alcohol, sex, or bear claws.
What makes the show great, though, is the writing. There is no other show on TV that combines one-liners, pop culture references, and euphemisms in such a precise, well-timed manner. It’s no exaggeration to say that every piece of dialogue is memorable and quotable. When I first discovered the show, some of my friendships devolved into non-stop Archer references. But that might say more about the friends I choose than it does about the show.
Now in its fourth season, the series seems to be losing its steam and consistency. But having said this, that shouldn’t stop you from spending a night curled up in your bed with Archer, watching magic unfold. As the man himself would put it, “Phrasing, boom!”