'Kath & Kim'

One of a fistful of international remakes flung against this television season, "Kath & Kim" opens with the first of its titular characters working out in clothes that haven't been popular since Jane Fonda was bulimic. Seriously, purple spandex and a colored sweatband? What did Molly Shannon, who plays the self-help-afflicted consumatrix Kath, do to deserve this?

For a brief moment, a viewer is left to wonder if this perhaps is one of those period shows that have become so popular. But no, enter quickly Kim (Selma Blair), Kath's daughter, fleeing her new marriage because her husband wants her to "do things . . . like cook dinner."

And we're off, with a mother/daughter Odd Couple that is drained almost immediately of any comic value except for the black hole of anger and narcissism that is Blair's Kim. Spoiled rotten girls are funny. Spoiled vicious girls are not. Still, with her mall-crawl crop top, muffin-topped short shorts and immediate Britney Spears references -- "Is Britney Spears stupid? Is Melanie Griffinith [sic] stupid? Because they both left bad men" -- she's nothing if not modern.

So how idiotic is Kath? Forget that she's a mother so clueless she thinks her clearly bipolar daughter just needs a little attitude adjustment. She may be the only middle-aged woman in America who hasn't discovered yoga pants.

If this seems like a lot of space to devote to wardrobe, it's only because everything just gets worse from here, and, frankly, it pains me to write about it. For one thing, the original Australian "Kath & Kim” was very funny, and it's always embarrassing when a U.S. version doesn't measure up. Though why anyone would think we could take on an Aussie comedy is beyond me. Can you imagine, say, "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" with Brad and George in the lead roles?

For reasons perhaps only Christopher Guest understands, it is very difficult for Americans to do the broad hyper-social satire that the Brits and Aussies specialize in. Perhaps it's because Americans are not comfortable with lead characters who are lovably absurd. We have a disturbing need for simple-mindedness to be recognized as wisdom, à la Forrest Gump.