Debuting Thursday night, IFC's The Spoils of Babylon is a spoof of the grand-scale miniseries that were prevalent in the 1970s and '80s -- QB VII, North and South, The Thorn Birds and Rich Man, Poor Man, to name a few. Executive produced by Will Ferrell and his Anchorman cohort Adam McKay, this is a star-studded comedy that's presented under the guise of a never-before-seen six-part epic authored and introduced by Eric Jonrosh, a smug, Orson Welles-type entrepreneur played by Ferrell.

Ferrell, as Jonrosh, opens and closes each episode, sitting cozy in an empty dining hall surrounded by film paraphernalia and no less than three glasses of wine at a time. Here he explains his arduous journey in creating and financing his long-dormant passion project The Spoils of Babylon, and offers little tidbits about the cast and production. "The end result is nothing less than a masterpiece," comments Jonrosh. The story begins in Denton, Texas in 1931 when a young orphan Devon (Tobey Maguire) is taken in by an impoverished oilman Jonas Morehouse (Tim Robbins). Soon, Devon develops an affection for Jonas' daughter Cynthia (Kristen Wiig) and endures a torrid romance with his "sister" over the next half century.

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In case you're wondering, yes, there is an unbridled love scene.

In the first two episodes -- airing back-to-back Thursday -- Spoils makes its mark almost immediately with an intentionally low-budget style that should feel familiar to aficionados of old event serials and movies. Exteriors are established with miniatures and tiny vehicles pulled along by strings off-camera. The sets are also flat and overly produced, enhancing the overall facetious effect. A timely musical score heightens the pastiche with sweeping orchestral cues and kitschy interludes. Hazy, distorted montages and black-and-white news reels are also used to progress the story.Maguire, Robbins and Wiig fully commit to the absurdity of their parts too. Not a scene goes by without one big gag to offset the melodrama. One sequence stands out in particular where Jonas gives Devon a compass with a verbose inscription that Devon reads aloud for paragraphs on end, each passing line adding to the silliness. Likewise, characters are constantly drinking, smoking and popping pills in almost every scene.Devon also narrates the events from the future, noting little quirks of his youth and what it was like growing up in the Morehouse family. "Time was measured in work," Deveon recalls. "Also in clocks and watches, but mostly in work." The epic only gets more ridiculous in the second episode, when the narrative shifts into World War II and Devon brings home a new wife portrayed by a stationary mannequin (and voiced by Carey Mulligan).Of course, Spoils of Babylon is by no means on the cutting-edge of TV comedy, and its specific brand of humor may try the patience of younger viewers. In terms of jokes, it probably ebbs more like Dr. Strangelove and Airplane! than Anchorman and Step Brothers. But, if anything, that just solidifies its presentation as a nonsensical, dated parody, which usually works in Spoils' favor -- not always, but most of the time. At the very least, it's hard not to appreciate its stylistic charm, steadfast performances and firm grasp on TV conventions.