Apple TV+ ‘Government Cheese’ Episode 8 Review - A Quirky Dinner with Abraham Cohen

Episode 8 of Government Cheese, “An Evening with Abraham Cohen,” takes a sideways route through Hampton’s already zigzagging redemption arc. And that’s what makes it work. You start off thinking you’re in for a heist episode with a splash of guilt and Jewish guilt, but by the end, you're sitting at a dinner table, sipping metaphorical soup with a rabbi who may or may not be the most grounded person in the entire show.

Let’s rewind. Hampton Chambers, played with steady bewilderment and hope by David Oyelowo, is still trying to claw his way out of the tangled aftermath of incarceration. He’s trying, really trying, to keep his parole clean, reconnect with his daughter, and be the kind of man who doesn’t rob places of worship. But life in Government Cheese doesn’t offer neat moral pathways. So when a lingering prison debt to the French mob threatens to unravel his already fragile peace, Hampton finds himself (rather uncomfortably) planning to rob a synagogue.

But here’s where the show takes its signature detour. Instead of a climactic robbery or a gritty, shootout-ending moral reckoning, we’re handed a dinner. A long, strange, warm, occasionally awkward, and weirdly profound dinner with Rabbi Abraham Cohen. That’s the twist. That’s the plot. And somehow, it works.

The episode uses this dinner not as filler, but as an emotional magnifying glass. Rabbi Cohen is not some stereotype or moral compass handed down from the writers’ room—he’s eccentric, sharp, and unexpectedly chill about the man who came to rob his synagogue sitting across from him. Their conversation is the true heist: Hampton came for money, but he ends up losing a bit of his fear and gaining something resembling clarity. Maybe even peace, or the possibility of it.

The writing here is crisp and sly. Dialogue skims over theological debate, slips into musings about regret and family, and still finds time to poke fun at both characters' flaws. Oyelowo plays Hampton like a man constantly surprised by the world and himself, and this episode lets him lean into that disbelief. His pauses and reactions during dinner—small, wordless beats—do as much storytelling as any monologue.

Visually, the episode continues the show’s rich use of 1960s color palettes—warm golds, dusty blues, and the occasional odd detail that keeps you a little unsettled. The lighting inside the synagogue dining room creates intimacy without feeling overly staged, which helps ground what is essentially a 20-minute philosophical jam session in something that still feels like TV.

Bokeem Woodbine returns as Bootsy, Hampton’s slightly unhinged sidekick, who doesn't get much screen time this episode, but when he does appear, he brings a welcome chaos to the scene. Bootsy’s reactions to the rabbi’s calm demeanor border on cartoonish, but they’re a necessary counterbalance to Hampton’s quiet unraveling.

The show is at its best when it lets the surreal walk hand-in-hand with sincerity. A man planning a robbery ends up bonding over Kugel and the Torah. That’s exactly the sort of left turn this show loves to take. And usually, it sticks the landing.

Now, the negatives. While the episode is creative and thoughtful, the pacing does stumble. The middle stretch—during the second act of dinner—lingers a bit too long. The conversation, while engaging, begins to circle itself and could’ve benefited from a sharper edit. Also, for viewers hoping for more development in the overarching plot (like Hampton’s relationship with Astoria or progress on the debt front), this episode might feel like a tangent. It’s not exactly filler, but it doesn’t move the needle much.

The subplot involving the mobsters, which kicks off the episode, fizzles out by the end in a way that might be unsatisfying if you're here for the tension. Instead, you get what feels like a bottle episode—contained, specific, and driven by character rather than plot.

But even with those issues, it’s hard to be mad at the show for taking a breath. Government Cheese doesn’t pretend to be conventional, and this episode leans into that. It trusts the audience to sit with discomfort and to enjoy the strange calm that comes after a storm doesn’t happen.

In the end, “An Evening with Abraham Cohen” is more about hesitation than resolution. It asks what happens when someone on the edge of collapse is met not with resistance or consequences, but with hospitality and conversation. It’s weird. It’s slow. It’s a little indulgent. But it’s also quietly moving.

And that's the magic of this show—it can take a plot as absurd as a synagogue robbery and turn it into a meditation on brokenness and belonging. Episode 8 might not be the flashiest or most plot-heavy chapter of Government Cheese, but it’s one of the most human.

Final Score- [8/10]