Saturday, October 30, 2010

Injecting Reality Into the Absurd

Injecting Reality Into the Absurd: When TV Comedies Make You ~Feel Things~

I felt a twinge of something as I watched the last episode of Black Books. Maybe it was regret -- after all, it was the final episode, and I was sad to let these characters go. The entire episode took place in the shop, with only the three primary characters. It was an ordinary, and therefore fitting, goodbye. But something happened in the episode that struck me as out of place: Bernard, drunk as always, reveals to his equally drunk friend Fran that he's so sardonic because his ex-girlfriend had died. A beat. Then Fran counter-reveals that No, she's not, and she's got photos and dental records to prove it... the joke continues.

But in the moment when Bernard acknowledges his dark and unfriendly disposition is the result of a death of someone he actually loved, I believed it. For a few seconds, he wasn't a cut-out spouting Linehan gold; he was a real person, for just a moment. It was there to build up for the joke, I know, but I wonder if it was saved for the characters' swan song because it would have felt strange anywhen else. (On the other hand, in the first season of The IT Crowd, there is a similar seemingly sincere sequence in which Roy acts gentlemanly to Jen, but it is actually the build up to a gag.) Either way, I loved that extra dimension, and I regret it was gone before it went anywhere. That made me think: I don't need emotion in my comedy -- do I?

Some shows balance comedy and heart: Community, Glee, Friends, Modern Family, and Raising Hope are some examples. They've got quips and jokes, but also an emotional center (more often than not addressed at the end of an episode) as a result of the relationships among the characters. The emotion does not compromise the humor because the shows are built solidly around both.

So what of comedies that are more joke-based than character-based? I've written about how It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and The IT Crowd are examples of this, along with the aforementioned other Graham Linehan work, Black Books. It's Always Sunny characters are tools (in more ways than one) that confront situations in outlandish, strange, and therefore funny ways. It's a show about stupid, selfish people. I love the show because Charlie's hobby is magnets, because Sweet Dee looks like a bird, because Dennis tapes himself having sex, because Mac cuts the sleeves off all his shirts. I don't think the show needs to humanize its characters and explore their emotions; in fact, I think that would make it a weaker show, because I don't need to care about these characters to think their antics are funny. I can't relate to them, and don't need to to enjoy the show.

On the other hand, there is 30 Rock, a show that is also clearly joke-based. At the end of season 2, Liz thinks she's pregnant and leaves Jack a string of increasingly panicked voicemails. Any jokes made were secondary to the range of emotions that played over Alec Baldwin's face, which smartly comprised the entire scene. Liz's messages are first surprised and panicked, then accepting, then excited, until her brief, final message plays: "Never mind, I am not, um... Never mind." It works because women can identify with Liz Lemon and her love of eating, her frustration with work, her taped-together bras. 30 Rock is a great, hilarious show. To me, this scene made it even better. I knew the added dimension wouldn't necessarily be visited again, but it worked as part of the episode's story, and didn't compromise any of the humor.

Bolstering character is harder when they are more one-dimensional. In Extras, Maggie is the definition of simple. However, there is a quiet scene in which we see her in her apartment, straightening her hair, because she's told she needs to grow up. It's sad because Maggie is fine the way she is; she is ditzy but lovable. In the last episode of The League of Gentlemen, Ross gives a little wave and a smile to Pauline on her wedding day, even though he is a manipulative "villain" character. Even though Ross is one-dimensional (arguable, I suppose, after series 3), it's a heartbreaking moment.

Arrested Development had a straight man in Michael Bluth, "the one son who tried to keep it all together." Even so, I'd estimate he was only about 60/40 -- if the episode needed him to make a "huge mistake" or act like a fool like the rest of his family, he would. All the emotional parts of the show had to center around him, because he was the one normal people could relate to. He pined after Marta and the two "normal" characters shared a sincere moment or two. So did the sincerity richen or weaken the show? The humor? The sincere moment itself was not played for a joke (though later their relationship would be) and it contributed to the humanization of Michael Bluth. Michael needed to be perceived as a person, not as a caricature like the rest of his family. In this way, I don't think it weakened the show. In addition, I don't believe the audience's identification with Michael was a detriment to the show's humor -- the jokes worked or they didn't, perception of Michael irrelevant.

Other examples of the straight man placed in a comedy of errors are Henry and Casey in Party Down and Tim and Dawn in The Office. The relationships between the "normal" characters gave something for the audience to empathize with. Because the storylines were typically separate, they did not compromise the comedy usually provided by the rest of the cast.

Finally, as antithesis, there are a few shows that I feel would suffer if emotion was added: Peep Show, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (like I mentioned earlier), and Flight of the Conchords. Maybe because Peep Show is so personal already, what with point of view monologues from the main characters, I already feel like the show covers the whole range of emotion, with comic twist. Flight of the Conchords, by contrast, simply has no relatable characters, like It's Always Sunny. It would be weird to me if Jemaine and Bret had a truly believable, sincere exchange, because the two characters are so uncomplicated. Not the right tone at all.


ETA: I didn't talk about Michael Scott!! I will edit this later and talk about Michael Scott. And David Brent in the Christmas Special. And the Extras Christmas Special.

ETA2: I clearly didn't think this through. Community breaks rules. Will edit later. Maybe.

ETA3: Yeah, actually: Spaced. I don't know what I'm talking about.

ETA4: The last ten minutes of Catterick. I don't know what to think anymore.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Friday Night Lights - State, 1.22

If Friday Night Lights ended now, right after season 1, I would be content with having experienced one of the Best Seasons I Have Ever Watched. I just want to slow clap for this series after every episode.

Season 2! Allons-y!

P.S. dillonpanthers.tumblr.com! Made to showcase the beauty of lens flares/composition/beautiful people of FNL.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Friday Night Lights - Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes, 1.19

I can't even deal with how good Friday Night Lights is. I'm in that state of post-episode euphoria. Perfection! Usually I'd wait to calm down, but I have to get this out now.

First of all, this series is absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. I started capping pretty scenes during this episode, and found myself pausing and going back to get shots I missed. I now have a whole desktop full of screenshots I'll probably add to this post later. Wow. I'm a sucker for lens flare and the way this show uses light is stunning. And the organic, yet somehow very measured and artsy composition of each shot. I don't even knowww.

Secondly, how do the writers do it? How can they write such perfect characters and relationships? This episode, the back-and-forth between Tyra and her mother was heartbreaking and so real -- you can feel how trapped Tyra is, and how damaged her mother is, and the heated emotions forged out of that frustrating relationship just ignite like fireworks onscreen. The climax argument in the car about living a better life, then the screech of the truck's tires on asphalt, then Tyra's mother storming into the Father-Daughter dance, ending with Tyra laughing and dancing... Absolutely. Brilliant.

Another winning relationship in this episode is of course Coach Taylor and his daughter Julie. The conversation in the car brought me to tears. The acting!

And Lila ramming that car into her father's auto dealership? I can't express how much I love that. I'm not a big fan of Lila, mostly because of her annoying relationship with Jason. But I could definitely warm up to her if she continues being such a badass. Sweet girl comes out of her shell (like she did last episode when she got drunk and really opened up to Jason -- I liked her then, too) because she can't take it anymore. I dig that a lot.

Another thing I dig is a plain and simple love story, and this episode offered an amazing one in Tim and his next-door neighbor. First off, Tim Riggins with a kid is incredibly attractive. And I guess the kid's mom isn't immune to his charms. The development of this unexpected side story was so simple, yet so compelling and real. It reminded me of Tyra's brief encounter with the businessman from LA in one of the first few episodes of this season. So gooooood.

Finally, the adorable, wonderful scene on the football field at night. Jason, Smash, Matt, Tim. Jason mentoring Matt. Matt fretting about getting caught. Tim and Smash explaining their problems with girls. Everything about these scenes really got to me, because I know what it's like to be on a quiet football field at night, and at dawn, and it was, of course, shot just beautifully.

I can barely be coherent about this show. It's just perfect. And I can't express that very well, I suppose.

ETA: Actually, I just made a tumblr: dillonpanthers.tumblr.com

Friday, October 1, 2010

No Ordinary Family, The Event

No Ordinary Family - Pilot, 1.01

This show is kind of a Heroes/Modern Family hybrid. I know that's the lazy evaluation, but I think it's apt. This show is cute and sentimental and exciting because hey, normal people with superpowers. But it's nothing special. The writing leaves a lot to be desired. Contrived dialogue ruins this pilot. The show has at least two great actors in Michael Chiklis and Julie Benz, but the script doesn't give them much to work with. It's an appealing premise, a real family show, but in short: the dialogue kills me. I won't be watching this one.

On the plus side, there's some good music. Shut Up and Let Me Go by the Ting Tings, Dilly by Band of Horses.

Grade: C+


The Event - I Haven't Told You Everything, 1.01

I'm not looking to get into another FlashForward, which this show resembles at first glance. Just not my cup of tea. The pilot is exciting enough, as its main purpose is to intrigue and introduce the main mystery. If I liked this kind of show, I would definitely stick with it for a while.

Horchata by Vampire Weekend was a plus.

Grade: B-

Fringe - The Box, 3.02

I was enamored of Fringe last season. I watched Brown Betty twice, Jacksonville three times, and the Over There finale parts 1 and 2 a couple more times than that. The show was just an amalgam of everything I loved about the science fiction genre: alternate universes, the FBI checking out weird science cases, a mad scientist, the unexplained, a fantastically creepy score, themes like morality and reality, monsters and mutants, and, as a bonus, gruesome deaths each episode. Awesome.

Summer came and went, and by the time fall shows started premiering, I found I didn't care as much about Fringe Division. But last week's episode and this week's installment won me over yet again.

Olivia is reserved. She's tough. She's personable but not outgoing. Alt-Olivia is different in many ways, and Anna Torv affects her effortlessly. She is completely believable as both characters. For once, I was captivated by the story and didn't even think about Anna Torv the actor as Olivia and Alt-Olivia; it was just the two very different characters struggling in their new realities. Superb nuanced acting, without so much as a wardrobe or hairstyle change. The way she runs her tongue over her teeth the way Olivia wouldn't, the way she carries herself distinctly as either character, is fantastic.

More winning moments:
  • John Noble as the Secretary and chunks-of-his-brain-missing Walter Bishop.
  • Michael Giacchino. Amazing work all the time.
  • The silence scene! Excellent! That dude's head exploding! I jumped and said Oh Fuck and then laughed. Sci fi has made me a sick person.

ETA: I called the deaf twist at the beginning of the episode. Strange things were affecting everyone except one person, so the odd one out had to be different in some way. I guessed deaf, and I was right. This has probably happened before in the X-Files. Sci fi tropes are becoming second nature. Cool.

Also, the T never moves that fast. And, because I'm a romance junkie, I'm loving the development of the Alt-Olivia and Peter relationship. Twisted and complicated, just the way I like it.