There is certainly nothing more basic that a critic could do than to describe a show with “basic” in the name as basic. But it is difficult to find a more appropriate word to describe Fox’s Universal Basic Boysan animated film that, at least at first glance, seems to be rooted in the most hackneyed sitcom clichés of the 90s.

Created by Adam and Craig Malamut, the series occasionally shows signs of potential to be something special – typically in moments when it veers off the beaten path and takes stranger, more outlandish, and often downright fantastical detours. But such moments are few and far between over the course of a 13-episode first season that can be described as cute rather than entertaining.

The “basic” in that title actually refers to the concept of universal basic income, which supposedly drives the plot. As explained in the theme song that opens each episode, South Jersey brothers Mark and Hank Hoagies, both voiced by Adam Malamut, were enrolled in a universal basic income pilot program after their hot dog factory jobs were made obsolete by AI-controlled robots. With $3,000 to spend each month with no strings attached and no paid employment to occupy their time, the Hoagies spend their days getting into crazy trouble, most of which is fueled by Mark’s misguided ambitions or inflated ego, while the far more calm Hank is generally just in it for the fun of it.

Despite a premise that seems to touch on important political issues, Universal Basic Boys has no interest in pointed social commentary. If anything, UBI serves as an excuse to avoid talking about all-too-real things. You never have to wonder why Mark isn’t looking for a new job or how he’s funding all of his harebrained schemes when UBI is there to simply wave off your questions. (And if you’re wondering if that money wouldn’t just replace the paychecks he used to get from work, or if some of his ideas wouldn’t cost way more than three thousand dollars to implement—stop, you’re already thinking about this way more than the show.)

Unfortunately, the comedy does less with this freedom than it could. The first half hour sets the tone with a plot that involves Mark purchasing a decrepit lab chimp from a Joe Exotic-type character. The storylines that follow aren’t necessarily easy to guess – Mark literally gets his whole face ripped off and then refuses to undergo facial reconstruction surgery out of sheer stubbornness. But they don’t come as a surprise, rooted in the hackneyed cliche of Mark as a blustering jerk and his wife Tammy (Talia Genevieve) as a disapproving killjoy.

References to Britney Spears and Seal do little to dispel the impression that the series is stuck somewhere in 2002. The same goes for the next episode, in which Mark secretly goes fishing during a romantic dinner cruise. Husbands, right?

Universal Basic Boys does reveal a few saving graces. One of them is that it is rarely mean. Mark may be stubborn and ruthless, but he is never intentionally cruel. The jokes may not be particularly fresh, but they also avoid the artificially provocative provocation of, say, Netflix’s Tiresset in a similar working-class environment where men become men. If the characters tend to stereotype, they are treated with amused affection rather than contempt. Even Mark’s neighbor David Jinglebells (Fred Armisen), an effeminate ex-New Yorker whose disinterest in Eagles football and his love of books like A delicate story of the Parisian daisies makes him stand out like a sore thumb, treated like just another quirky neighbor rather than a punching bag for Mark and his pals to beat up. (Although Murph, an alpha male in a pink polo shirt, sometimes tries.)

Mark’s marriage to Tammy eventually takes on a nicer note as she finds herself more as a leading lady. A mid-season episode begins with the couple debating over chicken wings whether Gremlins or Oompa Loompas would make better nurses. The conversation isn’t relevant to the plot in the slightest, but it’s a nice little reminder that, despite all their bickering, the two really do like each other. I just wish it had come sooner, because by that point I’d already spent several episodes wondering why she doesn’t want to leave a man who’s causing her so many headaches.

His other great asset is the sweet, innocent, and well-meaning Hank. As silly as Mark’s plans can be, they’re also somewhat predictable. You know that once someone tells Mark he can’t do something, he’ll insist on doing it in the most ruthless way possible, whether it’s pretending to be a pilot after a few hours in a flight simulator or using a robot costume made out of scrap metal to “rescue” a group of citizens. Hank is the true wild card, blessed with an almost pathological level of composure that allows him to take everything from mermaids to human sacrifice to Navy Seals’ BUD/S training in stride.

I understand why Hank can’t be the main character; drawing references from an era that this cartoon could understand would be like making Kramer the main character of Seinfeld or Dwight, the main character of The office. But the show is at its best when it follows his lead and lets its characters go off into bizarre corners. My favorite moments tended to be the most hair-raising, like when the “Jersey Devil” turns out to be an actual devil who befriends Mark’s disillusioned stepson Darren, or when the Philadelphia Eagles’ stadium turns out to be home to a secret “mascot and fan engagement laboratory” full of gruesome sci-fi abominations.

These are the moments when Universal Basic Boys can finally let its imagination run wild, and the show is better for it. But all too often, it seems content to just sit back in its garage and do the same old nonsense day after day.