REVIEW: ‘I Think You Should Leave’ Season 3 Delivers on Chaos

Few creators manage to accomplish what comedian Tim Robinson does in his Netflix sketch comedy series I Think You Should Leave. In I Think You Should Leave Season 3, Robinson employs tricks that have worked in the past — guest performers such as Will Forte, Sam Richardson, and Fred Armisen, outlandish reactions, silly hats — while continuing to elevate the element of surprise that comes with each sketch.

With all six episodes running at under 20 minutes a piece, the series is a bevy of second-to-second dialogue-driven and visual gags. While it doesn’t manage to capture the absolute, magical, mayhem that was Season 2 (and really, what could) it does continue to prove that Robinson and the show’s writing team are operating on a separate comedic playing field than many of their contemporaries.

Lest we lose the thread, I Think You Should Leave Season 3 is pure absurdism, leaning into a heavy dose of sheer foolishness. Don’t press play on an episode expecting a high-brow comedy. Instead, in the same vein as a film such as The Lonely Island produced Hot Rod (the team also produces this series) the show is meant to be idiotic, succeeding in being another example that dumb humor doesn’t mean bad as long as the right people are behind the execution.

Because the humor is far from banal or incoherent. The laugh-out-loud moments are derivative from the series of observance of small, human behaviors. In Season 3 that ranges from office jokes gone too far, to people who have made their children their main personality traits, to pay it forward while in drive-thru lines. The transition into high-concept comedy is what allows the series to charge forward at such a chaotic pace, as we’re left breathless from one sketch to the other.

I Think You Should Leave Season 3 thrives on its cleverness and timeliness.

A particular example of the show’s ability to stick to the bit and then completely rev off course arrives in episode one with “The Driving Crooner.” What begins as a workplace setting where Robinson’s character offers to drive home intoxicated coworkers if they’re needing a way home soon turns into layered storytelling, as we find out not only does he use the business to try and build a new venture, as he mimics puffing on a cigar, a picture of which has been taped to the outside of the driver side of his vehicle, we also learn that his ludicrous concerns of frat boys wanting to murder him are correct.

It’s not even so much the aforementioned committing to the bit as it is committing to allowing ideas to take a natural, “what if” progression. A game show where people experience the most mundane virtual reality game turns deadly when a man believes he can’t breathe while in it, having thought it was a new body he was operating.

A reality dating sketch utilizes what could be an obvious concept (it’s a medium rich with opportunity for mockery) and instead, fixates on how Robinson seems to have only participated to get to use a zipline. A furious Forte gets stuck under a car by his ponytail.

None of the sketches are trying to take themselves too seriously which manages to sometimes hide just how clever the writing is. It’s the bait and switch of a scene, such as a bit about an infomercial for a new kind of doggy door that derails itself with fever dream-inspired imagery.

The only downfall comes when we realize how many of these episodes and the bits in them are similar in tone to the ones from the prior two seasons. While season three keeps us consistently laughing, none of the sketches can top the very best of season two, such as the creation and subsequent downfall of “Karl Havoc.”

Depending on the type of comedy being operated in, it’s at its best when the limitless nature of the genre understands that its core value is found in pushing boundaries on form and function, rather than simply punching down or going for the easy joke.

Part of why I Think You Should Leave works with much greater clarity and timelessness compared to something like SNL is because there are no ripped-from-the-headline-inspired jokes or bits that require certain cultural touchstones. Instead, it’s innate observational humor dialed up to 100, anchored by performers — Robinson in particular — who are fearless in playing the biggest buffoons in the room.

I Think You Should Leave Season 3 is streaming now on Netflix