Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Letterkenny’ on Hulu, Where The Eccentric Characters Of The Fictional Canadian Town Return For More Riffy Laughs

The small town comedy Letterkenny migrated from YouTube to the Canadian streaming platform Crave in 2015 and hasn’t looked back, logging multiple seasons and holiday specials in the interim and building its American following with a heavy dose of promotion on its new home, Hulu. All of the usual suspects return for this, its eleventh season, including creator and star Jared Keeso, director and star Jacob Tierney, and the Letterkenny players that fill out the fictional town’s social factions of hick farmers, hockey players, “skid” drug users, and other assorted locals.  

LETTERKENNY – SEASON 11: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

 
Opening Shot: The familiar static shot of a barn appears, with the usual introduction – “There are 5000 people in Letterkenny; these are their problems” – and some cold open goofs from Wayne (Jared Keeso) and his BFF Daryl (Nathan Dales). “Your gal wants to start an OnlyFans page. But even Netflix is losing subs, and she can’t compete with Ozark.” 

The Gist: In the small Canadian town of Letterkenny, Ontario, shared experience is everybody’s business. Sure, Wayne, his sister Katy (Michelle Mylett), Daryl, Squirelly Dan (K. Trevor Wilson) and Rosie (Clark Backo), Wayne’s occasional love interest, represent the town’s “hick” contingent. They often sit in front of the produce stand out at Wayne’s farm, riffing on life as it tumbles by. But if they’re in town enjoying a few cold Puppers at the bar run by Gail (Lisa Codrington), the hicks might interact with the black-overalled, oft breakdancing leaders of the skids, Stewart (Tyler Johnston) and Roald (Evan Stern), while remaining at odds with but tolerant of the town’s floundering ice hockey club, usually represented by inseparable hockey players Reilly (Dylan Playfair) and Jonesy (Andrew Herr). And besides, everyone can usually agree that whatever the Yanks are doing is silly and asking for a well-crafted insult.

When Squirelly Dan arrives at MoDean’s with a bag of Old Dutch brand potato chips and word of a contest to craft a brand new flavor, it sets off a lively debate. Because remember, this is Canada – the contest is restricted to “classic Canadian flavors only” – and “no one loves chips like small towns.” After a bit of arguing with Stewart and Roald over the contest’s reach and who’s allowed to “shame” chips, everyone looks to Wayne for a final ruling. Squirelly Dan addresses the town’s toughest guy and voice of reason. “You’s beens awfuls quiets throughs alls ofs this, Waynes.”  

As Wayne declares the calling of a fishbowl discussion on the matter of best chip and potential flavor upgrades, Reilly and Jonesy run into Ron (James Daly) and Dax (Gregory Waters) at the gym, who are happy to indulge the interest of Glen (Jacob Tierney) in drawing his workout inspiration from the sheaf of gay-themed adult magazines he pulls from a back pocket. It’s just another day in Letterkenny, where the business of living often detours through outrageous levels of minutiae.

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? In Letterkenny, the plot setups never matter as much as the payoff, which arrives in an often blistering stream of back-and-forth pitter-patter. It’s a style shared by This Fool, which also streams on Hulu, as well as South Side on HBO Max, and the chemistry and weird energy of the core cast here is also reminiscent of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.  

Our Take: While Letterkenny has settled comfortably into its expanded cast and fleshed out its sitcom format in the seasons since it leaped from the web to streaming, that doesn’t mean it’s muted its distinct voice in favor of anything conventional. At the outset of its eleventh season, something as trivial as concocting a new potato chip flavor becomes the impetus for bits that detail factually watery versions of American history, the convivial nature of small town social interactions, and the status of “salt and vinnies” as chips that are respectful, play by the rules, and don’t steal the spotlight. By the time Rosie offers that Pringles did well despite not having the same advantages as other chips, Letterkenny has settled on an analysis of racial harmony and opportunity through the prism of sliced potatoes that have been either baked or fried to flavorful crispness. It’s really not important to remember where this line of discussion began, since Letterkenny fills the journey with so much delightful randomness and the individual strengths of its cast to lend each character’s particular brand of mojo to the proceedings. 

Later episodes in the series’ eleventh outing will explore a theft at the church bake sale, missing dog emergencies, the insidious spread of a nude selfie, and the arrival of social media influencers in town, who the residents of Letterkenny immediately dub “Influenzas.” But what drives these prompts are the quirky personalities at work, and the lengthy streams of bantering dialogue that invariably unfold.   

Sex and Skin: Nothing beyond hockey bros Reilly and Jonesy tentatively and hilariously asking Pastor Glen (Jacob Tierney) about his knowledge of male actors working in gay porn and enjoyment of prostate exams administered by men who aren’t doctors.

Parting Shot: The fishbowl meeting called by Wayne and chaired by Gail (Lisa Codrington) has finally determined that the Canadian snacking delicacy of an all-dressed Old Dutch as the end-all of chip flavors. “It’s got everything you want in a chip right there.” An all-dressed brings every flavor (except dill pickle) together, much like the folks in this fishbowl; it’s where “friendship” becomes “friend-chip.” 

Sleeper Star: The ability of Squirrelly Dan to make each word in a given sentence plural is never not funny, and K. Trevor Wilson is the right man for the job. 

Most Pilot-y Line: “You’s want your chips all dolled up and camera ready. I just want a chip to sit on the sofa with.” Daryl’s assertion during the fishbowl meeting on chip flavors blends absurdity, eccentricity, and sweetness in the effortless manner that’s become customary for Letterkenny.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Letterkenny’s brand of humor is furiously its own, blending the quirks of smalltown life with left-field hot takes on social media, popular culture, and contemporary sexuality, and driving it all home by always keeping its stories and absurdities proudly character-driven.

Johnny Loftus is an independent writer and editor living at large in Chicagoland. His work has appeared in The Village Voice, All Music Guide, Pitchfork Media, and Nicki Swift. Follow him on Twitter: @glennganges