Frisky Dingo is my second favorite comedy series of all time (so far), right behind Black Adder.
I wonder if F.D.'s creators were into Black Adder, by the way, because the former's wonderfully rich insults and exclamations remind me of the latter's steady stream of what seemed liked hundreds of outrageous phrases (e.g., "He's as thick as whale omelet" or "Death and gloom stalk our land like two big stalking things"). In Frisky Dingo, phrases like "Well, I know how to not let my son run off in a pair of robo pants with a fist full of knives!!" and "ok disembodied GPS lady" and "Once again the mall has become my Waterloo" give the show a wonderful rhythm and spice missing from the vast majority of comedy.
The writing for the gruff single-minded Stan, the American corporate executive running the Crews Corporation for its reckless heir, Xander Crews, is another example of the kind of rich writing I find extremely entertaining in Frisky Dingo. Exasperated at Xander Crews for nearly ruining his corporation, Stan utters the line, "for 250 years, from slavery and smallpox blankets to soft-core porn and semiconductors, this corporation has always made a profit..." [close paraphrase] My stomach hurt from laughing. Stan's awkward time-consuming mangled attempt to sound like a superhero before flying off in pilfered rocket boots also was brilliant and fit his character well.
The show's use of violence is interesting. Some characters react the way a real human would -- with shock, numbness and terror (e.g., the initial reactions of Valerie, aka Val, and Sin's reaction to her lover Riley getting throttled by Killface). The otherworldly sociopathic Killface and son, the purely cartoonish one-dimensional villain Antagone, the mercenary back-storied human-grunt Xtacles, the battling undercover TV news teams, the weak-minded subservient experimental self-mutilation of Riley, the mean city streets depicting slavery, sweatshops and violent underground gambling, all combine with depictions of quiet apartment living, pleasant suburban streets with gazebos in parks and mall shopping to create a wonderful parody of apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic themes.
The violent super villain Killface is helpless against repo men and lawyers, even dropping his alien gun when an employee announces he's suing him.
Everyone seems to ignore Killface's incredibly conspicuous apocalyptic threat -- the Annihilatrix, which juts from the ground at an odd angle like the leaning tower of Pisa and menacingly towers several stories over a parking lot.
Even during a TV interview, the audience and interviewers brush off Killface's apocalyptic threats as mere chit chat. I wonder if the show's creators are from the Bible Belt and had to contended with weekly apocalyptic admonitions that grew emptier and more mundane with each passing year.
The show is not only funny, it's extremely interesting and holds my attention when I'm not laughing.
Some animated shows, released from the confines of physical sets, lapse into digression, becoming little more than discursive streams of Hollywood tabloid commentary trying to pass for humor but really more like a gay hair stylist's crystal-meth induced banter. Frisky Dingo avoids this.
We'll see how the show ages, though, since it will be difficult to keep the writing and ideas fresh after the second or third season.
That doesn't matter now, though. Enjoy!