Joe R. Lansdale is one of those names that won’t get much recognition outside a few dedicated circles, but to those familiar with his work, he’s one of the most prolifically successful writers alive. His bibliography includes 45 novels, three of which have been adapted into feature films ("Cold in July," "Bubba-Ho-Tep," and "The Incident On and Off a Mountain Road"), along with writing credits on a vast array of Marvel and DC comics. While the subject matter of his stories can range from small-town racial conflicts, to apocalyptic struggles with zombies and Lovecraftian gods, his focus always finds itself returning to the plains of West Texas, and his prose is always delivered like the musings of an old cowboy sitting on his porch.

In a lot of ways, "Hap and Leonard" is probably the the Lansdale creation most suited to television. Following two ass-kicking ne'er-do-wells, the series already has nine novels worth of Texan-noir misadventures to draw from, all of which are loaded full of violence, strange characters, and dialogue as sharp as a tomahawk. The only real problem is that much of the characters’ good ol’ boy charm comes from their laissez faire attitude towards conflict, and how, like the greatest hardboiled detectives, the characters have a habit of simply drifting into problems. This really shows, because as much as the opening two episodes are laden with charm and wit, they also take an uneasy stance on how, exactly, to tailor Lansdale’s style into a six-episode serialized season.

The first opens in 1966 on the tail end of a heist gone array, as two bank robbers evade the police, only to crash and sink into a small river. We cut to twenty years later, where our two protagonists (played by James Purefoy and Micheal Kenneth Williams, respectively) get let go from their jobs as day laborers. From their first introduction, the bro-mance between these two characters is almost worth the price admission alone, with the duo taking hilarious jabs at each other at an almost exhausting rate, even pulling gags out of Leonard’s love of Nilla wafers. This is a friendship that’s clearly existed for a very long time, and so elements of the characters backstories - such as Leonard’s history in Vietnam, and his struggles as a queer Texan-- usually arise out of other characters trying to catch up with their banter in a way that always feels incredibly natural.

As with most stories of this ilk, trouble comes along in the form of woman; in this case, it’s Hap’s ex-wife, Trudy (Christina Hendricks), bringing a story of a million dollars hidden at the bottom of a river bed. Pursuit of this money requires Hap and Leonard to work with a group of hippie activists/terrorists, including Trudy’s ex-husband (Bill Sage).

What’s strange about Christina Hendricks’ character, and her relationship to Hap, is that you buy the “wife” part, but so much the “ex” of it. Almost from the beginning, you can cut the sexual tension between the two of them with a butter knife, and her character is completely absent of any obvious femme-fatale elements. Leonard alludes to some serious fall-out between Trudy and Hap, yet they end up having sex twice within the first two episodes. On the one hand, there’s definitely a pleasure to watching this relationship re-ignite, as Turdy is clearly a sharp, spunky character on Hap’s level. At the same time, by choosing not to make her character a threat, the show saps some of its potential tension. There’s also no real sense of consequence to their failure; we’re shown that they need money, but they never seem to be destitute. It really does just seem like the two want to make a quick buck, and possibly get laid in the process.

The show seemingly acknowledges this potential flaw by, at the end of the first episode, introducing the psychotic drug dealer Soldier (Jimmi Simpson), and his hulking, neon-clad girlfriend, Angel (Polyanna McCintosh). When they’re introduced, they bring about one of the only two sequences of graphic violence in the show (so far), in a sequence that’s simultaneously disturbing, and weirdly funny. But, again, the show seems to delay their malevolent presence only having them appear once in the second episode, to avoid placing extra pressure on Hap and Leonard’s search for the lost river.

That said, however, there’s still a lot of fun to be had within these first two episodes. The show has a talent for pulling gut laughs out of completely unexpected places, such as a character’s pantsless rescue from quicksand, enough interesting dialogue is dispersed between the different players of this mystery to keep everything moving at a tight pace. The real challenge that the show now faces, is how to utilize it’s increasing potential energy in a way that’ll have us coming back for further installments with the blue-collared duo. To try and channel my inner-Lansdale, I’d say I’m more optimistic than a fruit-fly at a $5 buffet.