Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Dustin Rowles | TV | February 3, 2026
Pete Davidson’s “podcast” premiered on Netflix this week, and it would be easy to mock it as, essentially, the A24 of podcasts: off-center framing, a dingy garage, and two guys chain-smoking. It’s not really a podcast. It’s not really a talk show, either. The first episode, at least, is just two friends talking, reminiscing, and telling stories. They are not particularly good stories, but it’s easy to see why Davidson is so beloved in the comedy world: He’s a screw-up, but he’s not malicious about it. And he champions his friends.
That’s certainly the case with his first guest, Machine Gun Kelly, whom Davidson refers to by his real first name, Colson. They met on the set of Dirt, where Davidson recalls that director Jeff Tremaine convinced him to take the role of Mötley Crüe’s manager by telling him that Tommy Lee had personally requested him. It was a lie. But it worked, and Davidson and Colson have been best friends ever since.
Their bond is obvious. They’re both sober now and speak about it frankly. They’re both screw-ups, but also vulnerable. And they really like to ramble about their bathroom habits (the first episode runs 38 minutes and includes no fewer than five references to peeing, pooping, and the kinds of toilets they own or used to own).
They also reminisce about their days of doing drugs together, which is honestly the least interesting part of the episode, mostly because they sound like rambling drug users when they’re recounting drug stories. There is one good anecdote, however: MGK invited Davidson to a party without telling him where it was. Davidson showed up dressed super casually, carrying a bunch of 40s, only to discover that the party was at Sandra Bullock’s house and attended by Lisa Kudrow and Jennifer Aniston, among others (Davidson and MGK ended up playing basketball with the kids).
MGK also has a bit of a New Age streak and a foot fetish, both of which Davidson gives him sh*t about. None of it is particularly insightful. There are no newsworthy industry stories. They don’t gossip about other people. Instead, they bond over sobriety, their similar coming-of-age and redemption arcs, and their shared tabloid trauma.
It’s not great television, but as podcasts go, it’s slightly different, in that it doesn’t follow a Q&A format and, thank god, avoids political discussion altogether. It’s just two guys hanging out, smoking a lot of cigarettes, sharing war stories, and expressing genuine affection for each other. It has more in common with Amy Poehler’s podcast than Joe Rogan’s. It’s certainly not essential viewing, but it’s not exactly mock-worthy, either.
