NEW YORK (CNS) -- Alan Ball, the Academy Award- and Emmy Award-winning creator of such acclaimed and popular TV series as "Six Feet Under" and "True Blood," returns to HBO with the limited series drama "Here and Now."

The dreary, jaundiced and morally troubling show debuts Sunday, Feb. 11, 9-10 p.m. EST. It will air in that time slot weekly through Sunday, April 15.

A violent assault, depictions of a gay romance, transgenderism, heavy drug use, adultery, prostitution, hate crimes and the aftereffects of torture are among the program's problematic elements. Catholic viewers will be especially affronted by the dismissive caricature of pro-life protesters as "bozos" -- and the depiction of one such activist as a sex offender.

To a degree not justified by any striving after realism, the series indulges in gratuitously strong and occasionally misogynistic language that will offend many viewers. But the show's unnecessarily graphic sexual content -- and the characters' attitudes toward sexuality in general --will likely prove even more disturbing.

On the day Portland, Oregon, philosophy professor H. Gregory Boatwright (Tim Robbins) turns 60, he is so depressed by the ignorance, hatred and terror he encounters in the world that he seeks consolation from a prostitute, Famiko (Jessica Lu). Presumably as a remedy for his blues, Famiko presents Boatwright with a sex toy.

Meanwhile, scarred from witnessing his Vietnamese biological mother Phoung Ly (Natasha Tina Liu) have sex indiscriminately with multiple partners, one of Boatwright's three adult adopted children, "motivational architect" Duc (Raymond Lee) opts to become celibate. Far from sympathizing with and supporting Duc's choice, his mom, Audrey (Holly Hunter), instead encourages her son to have sex constantly.

Audrey's maternal behavior toward her 17-year-old biological daughter, Kristen (Sosie Bacon), is just as mystifyingly wrongheaded. When Kristen informs Mom that she has acquired a sexually transmitted disease from an encounter with male model Randy (Trent Garrett), rather than providing suitable guidance, Audrey merely tells her she's sorry she has this illness.

For her part, Kristen tells Randy about her condition as he stands in his kitchen, wearing only his underwear. As he grabs himself in the offending intimate area, Kristen wonders if Randy would still like to hang out with her. Even as this behavior repulses viewers, they will shake their heads at the moment's implausibility.

The presentation of sexuality on "Here and Now" ultimately becomes almost pornographic, making it unsuitable for audiences of any age.

It's given to Duc to express Ball's underlying agenda. While having drinks with his Liberian-born adoptive sister Ashley (Jerrika Hinton) and with Randy, Duc observes that he and his adopted siblings are "advertisements for how evolved and progressive our parents were."

When the third Boatwright adoptee, Ramon (Daniel Zovatto), begins to see the numbers 11:11 flashing everywhere, however, it precipitates a crisis that will test those vaunted values.

Is Ramon in the incipient stages of a psychotic breakdown, as Audrey believes? Or is there something to this 11:11 phenomenon? Will it, in time, reveal to Ramon his "positive mission to accomplish?"

As insubstantial and farfetched as the story line is, exploring the impact of Ramon's spiritual and psychological crisis on his family would at least be more rewarding for viewers than wallowing in the series' otherwise sordid world. However, an implausible apparent connection between Ramon and his Muslim psychiatrist, Dr. Farid Shokrani (Peter Macdissi), soon unravels this one promising narrative thread.

As is the case with too many current TV series, even when it attempts to edify, "Here and Now" devolves into ham-fisted sociological commentary about identity politics and hot-button issues.

Despite having so little to recommend it, Ball's track record, together with the presence of such prominent and well-established stars as Robbins and Hunter will, sadly enough, probably win an audience for "Here and Now." And some critics will likely champion it, apply such contemporary terms of praise as "outlandish," "topical" and "raw."

Yet an exercise in breaking taboos does not necessarily yield compelling entertainment. All too often, as with the case in point, the result is rather a nihilism-tinged portrayal of life based on values out of keeping both with faith and with human dignity.

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Byrd is a guest reviewer for Catholic News Service.