Illustration: Elena Scotti
Attention is a valuable commodity that is in short supply and Quibi, the latest streaming offering is well aware of this fact. Each show on the network, which is just an app that is confounding to use, is under 10 minutes long—quick bites (Quibi, get it?) featuring a lot of very famous people who will clearly do anything for money. The streaming service debuted in early April, and while I tried to watch many of the offerings for longer than five minutes at a time, I struggled.
The launch of the platform happened to coincide with a global pandemic— a shared moment during which many people have found themselves with a surplus of downtime. But presuming that those people will want to watch a seven-minute scripted television program on their phone places a little too much faith in our collective attention span and also puts a lot of faith in the quality of the content provided. Truthfully, Quibi’s entire premise, from the name to the actual product, sounds like a discarded plot from 30 Rock, and this fact alone makes the work of actually watching the platform’s offerings feel arduous. Never mind the initial nightmare of watching anything longer than three minutes on a telephone; the actual horrors lie within the shows themselves, which are slickly produced and glossy, all the better to hide the fact that what you’re actually watching is just plain bad.
Unlike other short-form content, like the YouTube beauty tutorials I consume with alarming regularity, I never felt the need to fast forward through anything to get to the “good” stuff, whatever that may be. But everything I watched, from Lena Waithe’s weird sneaker show You Ain’t Got These to the reboot of Punk’d was high-quality, surreal garbage, a beautiful sweet spot that appeals to the one audience Quibi should be targeting heavy: stoners.
Though the aforementioned food videos produce horrifying end results, the tick-tock cadence of the footage is soothing, and Greenhand’s show follows the same rhythms, with much more satisfying results. The pizza joint was impressive, but the episode featuring comedian Nikki Glaser was by far my favorite. At the top of each show, Greenhand sits down with his customer in a very nice home somewhere in what I assume is California and asks them a few questions to ascertain what sort of joint monstrosity he will make. The result of his briefing with Glaser is the Hightanic, an impressive replica of the Titanic herself that is actually two enormous joints meant to be split down the middle, just like its namesake was. Instead of an iceberg, though, Glaser uses a big knife, cutting the ship down the middle to reveal an intricately layered interior. Both halves of the ship are smokable; simply light the thing with a blowtorch, put your lips around the filter, and inhale. Watching people who are very obviously stoned talk about being stoned is not that exciting, because stoned people are usually only interesting to themselves. But watching Greenhand labor with such care over something so beautifully silly is part of the thrill.
To be clear, most of the shows on Quibi that I watched were bad and would not work on Netflix, Hulu, or any other streaming platform as longer-form content. Though I personally would watch an entire hour of Greenhand making stoner dirtbag high art, I am not sure if this kind of shit would fly anywhere else. But Quibi is an excellent place for experimentation and a truly deranged incubator for bad TV. In a landscape overcrowded with shows elbowing for prestige, it’s nice to let something in that is demonstrably, inarguably bad.