Always Sunny Season Seven: A Retrospective

“It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” just finished its seventh season, and the results have been mixed. Never before has it felt as though the show careened so wildly between brilliance and boredom, instead offering a steady diet of laughs throughout its three months of airtime. But what we have this season is a mix of episodes that would rank among the show’s best, and an almost equal amount that would be considered the show’s worst.

The season started out strong with “Frank’s Pretty Woman,” less a parody of the Julia Roberts romantic comedy than a total annihilation of it. Any episode that throws in the phrase “tighter than dick skin” and ends with a hooker lying dead outside of Charlie’s apartment surely counts as a series high, especially for a season premiere. After last season went out spectacularly with the end of Dee’s pregnancy storyline and “A Very Sunny Christmas,” this episode proved that the show was suffering no creative setbacks at the start of the new year.

Next up were “The Gang Goes to the Jersey Shore” and “Frank Reynolds’ Little Beauties,” two solid episodes that were elevated by a handful of great lines and typically strong performances. It also marked the return of side characters like Artemis and the Waitress, checking in on where they are at the start of the new year (for Artemis, much the same, and for the Waitress, doing ecstasy on the Jersey Shore, a new all-time low). For a show that only gets a few scenes for auxiliary players per season, these two episodes did a good job of using the two actresses and reminding the audience how deep the bench goes for this show.

“Sweet Dee Gets Audited” should have made more of an impact, considering it ends with the characters saying this is the “darkest thing we’ve ever done.” That thing is staging a fake funeral for the baby Dee gave up for adoption at the tail end of last season. It’s always amusing to see Dee’s delusions of cleverness crushed by reality, but the background to this whole episode – an attempt at democracy manipulated by Frank and Dennis to get the bar decorated to their liking – is pretty flat and uninspiring. In fact, the Dee plot would have probably worked a bit better as a B-story, because the baby’s funeral really doesn’t provide that strong of a conclusion for the episode. And while it may be dark, the show is careful to introduce another character (the IRS agent auditing Dee) to react with suitable human disgust and horror when the whole thing goes wrong and the “baby’s” casket is opened to reveal the rotten corpse of a dog from the alley next to the bar. Shame that an image like that doesn’t leave more of an impact.

But following that strong opening four, “Frank’s Brother” showed that there is a limit on what the show can do. I personally enjoyed “The Gang Cracks the Liberty Bell” and “The World Series Defense” for their chance to hear the storytelling ability of the characters. Each paper-thin character or anachronistic phrase made perfect sense coming from Charlie, Dennis, Mac, and Dee. But Frank’s story is meant to be true, so when things don’t add up, it feels like a cheat – the writers aren’t playing fair. Sure, it’s funny to imagine that the mid-60’s Danny DeVito “looks like a 12-year-old,” and seeing that the name “Shadynasty” spelled out makes up “Shady Nasty,” but a few jokes like that can’t make up for a plot that ultimately goes nowhere and has nothing to do with Frank’s brother at all.

“The Storm of the Century” was purely mediocre. As an episode it barely hangs together, working much better as a series of funny scenes and concepts. The hurricane framework, especially considering Hurricane Irene did indeed bypass the Northeast with little incident, lends almost no urgency. And benching Mac for the lion’s share of the episode, even if it is balanced by the punchline of seeing him sitting safely without the Gang, eating ice cream and watching television from the bar, leads to a mismatched ensemble. Dee’s shrill fear of the storm returns her to the less dynamic shrewish archetype she hasn’t played since the first season. Again, this is subverted by the ending of the episode, but that doesn’t make her come across as any funnier. Charlie and Dennis have some spectacular material when they pursue a large-breasted TV anchor and later a few young attractive women shopping in a Home Depot-like home improvement store, but it works better as six or seven isolated minutes rather than as the A-story in an otherwise underwhelming 22 minutes. However, I will admit that this sends Dennis on a fantastic arc this season – and I believe his unhinging all starts here, when he is rejected by the news anchor and the young girls shopping for disaster supplies. His barely contained disgust for himself and the three women is as unsettling as it is funny.

“CharDee MacDennis: The Game of Games” was pure brilliance from nearly start to finish. It’s one of dozens of bottle episodes “Sunny” has done over the years, restricting the action to the bar and stripping away all characters not in the Gang. This season has proven that this tried-and-true formula is far from tired. In fact, it’s still where the most innovation can be done. This episode probably packed in the most jokes, the most character beats, the most callbacks out of any other episode this season (aside from the two-part finale, which I’ll get to in a moment), and it did so without leaving the confines of a single room. When you get down to it, “Sunny” doesn’t do alternative structure as well as many other comedies, but it does laugh-out-loud character comedy better than almost all of them.

Next up was “The Anti-Social Network,” another largely inconsequential episode held up by Dennis’ madness. Aghast at the thought that a random gin bar patron “shushed” him, Dennis drags Charlie along on an elaborate plot for revenge. Mac and Dee split off, looking for the “shusher” via Facebook in what turns into a “Catfish” parody. “Sunny’s” pop culture parodies have never been one of its stronger elements, so it’s no surprise that Dennis’ fury is far more fruitful than Mac and Dee’s unraveling of a vast online conspiracy. As he and Charlie enlist the help of the gin bar owners, the police, and a street cartoonist to help them track down the “shusher,” they become more and more wrapped up in their righteous fury. Charlie becomes fixated on the “shusher’s” “almond shaped eyes,” which can be added along with “people’s knees” to the list of physical attributes that drive him crazy. Dennis, on the other hand, reacts with an eerie determination. He will not stand to be insulted. Again, this just serves to build the intensity behind Dennis’ murderous edge.

The following episode, “The Gang Gets Trapped” might just have won the crown for my all-time least favorite “Sunny” episode. Once again, I appreciated their attempts to mess with typical structure, but it doesn’t quite work. Rather than have a long buildup to a bad idea, with all five characters at varying levels of interest and commitment, the episode cuts straight to the fallout. The opening finds Dee and Dennis trapped in a woman’s closet as she packs for a trip, after sneaking inside to steal an artifact her family won in an auction. It’s clearly intentional but no less disappointing that the characters pay lip service to Dennis’ passionate speech in favor of breaking in, or Mac and Charlie’s piqued interest due to a recent obsession with Indiana Jones. The whole thing feels like it takes place in the interim between the hilarious setup and the impact punchline. And while it might be a fun exercise for the writers to imagine what the characters get up to in between their outsized antics, it results in a rather unfulfilling half-hour.

Perhaps the most disappointing was “How Mac Got Fat.” With a title like that, you could expect that the show would go wild. But the episode is actually repurposed footage from an aborted attempt at a script from season six. On first pass, the episode seems very funny, taking a tour of Mac’s fractured psyche, from his staunch Catholicism to his oddly homoerotic fascination with fitness and muscles, to his delusional self-image, to his impatience – all things that are ripe for laughs. But on second watch, the structure actually seems rather sloppy, relying on Mac’s confession as an expositional monologue forcing the bits and pieces from the old footage into the framework of this new story idea. Only the smaller things on the sidelines – the candy stuffed in Mac’s pockets as he reveals his newly fattened physique or Charlie’s turpentine-fueled dance in the back office as Dennis watches with a glassy, drugged out stare - land. Perhaps the show only needs to make the audience laugh, but with so few episodes per season, I’d prefer they focus on making episodes I can laugh at time and time again, not just once.

Things looked up the following week with “Thunder Gun Express,” a fun adventure around Philly featuring actual location shooting as the Gang attempt to make it to the action movie of the year. What worked well about this half-hour was the pairings and isolation of the different characters. Mac making fun of Dennis’ slow, methodical, needlessly creepy way of picking up girls spurs Dennis on to listen to the collection of tapes (tapes!) he’s made of his various romantic encounters, actually having a few moments of self-reflection. Of course all that’s undone in a moment when a good looking woman presents herself and Dennis reverts to his tried-and-true ways. But even that’s upstaged by the adventures of Mac, Dee, and Charlie after they leave Dennis stranded in traffic in order to get to the theater more quickly. For once, the writers take Fat Mac into consideration and leave him stranded on the sidewalk after Charlie and Dee slip through a narrow grate into the sewer. Frustrated and preoccupied with the thoughts of action heroes, Mac spies a nearby motorcycle and tries to ride off on it. The resulting sight gag is worth the price of admission. Meanwhile, in the sewer, Dee becomes trapped when her shoe gets caught in the ground. Best line? When Dee asks Charlie if she can just take his shoes until they get back up to dry land, he stubbornly refuses. “You’ll stretch them out!” he insists. “You’ll stretch them out.”

After careening so unpredictably throughout the season, the once promising idea of the Gang’s high school reunion approached as I faced it with trepidation. Sure, it looked like there would be plenty to look forward to, but when finding out about Frank’s past or the whole concept of Fat Mac fizzled out, it looked like high concepts were the kiss of death for “Sunny” episodes that made me laugh. Fortunately, the full hour made sure there was plenty of time to deliver on such a loaded premise. Callbacks bring back plenty of recurring characters like Rickety Cricket, plagued with wicked cases of ringworm and kleptomania, Fatty Magoo, looking prettier than ever, and the Waitress, pathetically wandering around in the background, drunk and disappointed.

Hitherto unseen aspects of the characters were finally revealed. Dee is forced to don her torturous back brace, looking like something out of the early twentieth century, literally prohibiting her from any effortless movement, from turning her head to shrugging her shoulders. Finally, we learn Mac’s real name – a little bit of a letdown after so many years, but hey – and it turns out to be Ronald MacDonald. Luckily, the show knows not to stop there and also reveals that Mac was a rotten little snitch nicknamed “Ronnie the Rat.” Charlie devolves back into the unconfident, sniveling “Dirt Grub,” humiliating himself at every turn in order to somehow appeal to his more popular peers.

All that is upstaged by the climax of Dennis’ mania, which comes to a head after encountering the jocks who never respected him and the former friend he believes once slept with his prom date. When he fails to ingratiate himself or get revenge on them, his resulting fury is terrifyingly hilarious. Entering into a psychotic breakdown, he actually reveals what was always implied – a trunk full of creepy sado-masochistic gear that somehow includes both a camcorder and zipties. The rest of the Gang (as put off as the audience, though unable to find it as funny as we can) quickly talk him out of using “his tools” against his rivals.

Nothing, however, can outdo the final few minutes for pure humor. Throughout the hour, the Gang speaks reverently of their “Plan B,” only to be deployed under the direst of circumstances. When those circumstances are more than met, they are forced to go through with it – even though, as Dennis exclaims, it’s only a dance routine. But from top to bottom their manic, passionaite performance is hysterically funny - and that's before their delusions crash down around them, and everyone else at the reunion heads off to what sounds like a wicked afterparty. Once again, the Gang is left alone to go back to the bar. Back to the status quo.

Two more seasons have already been confirmed by creators and stars McElhanney, Day, and Howerton. Hopefully they can avoid some of the pitfalls they stumbled into this year. But despite this season’s weaker offerings, at no point has it felt as though the characters were weak or their chemistry diminished, but rather that what once seemed like endless possibilities for episodes wasn’t quite so endless after all.

It’s Broke; Please Fix It

Why I can’t stand the success of “2 Broke Girls.”

Television naturally demands a hearty suspension of disbelief, no form of which more so than the three-camera sitcom. It feels a bit stale, with hangovers from theater and radio in the tone, style, and performances. However, that does not mean three-camera shows can’t be relatable. Think of “Cheers.” Think of “Seinfeld.” The form itself is no more inherently flawed than any other. So when critical complaints are heaped on CBS’ new fall sitcom “2 Broke Girls,” my eye doesn’t go to its studio audience, its limited number of locations – some of the best shows in television history have made those elements work to their advantage. And the template for shows about young professionals working in New York City, “Friends,” was also a three-camera show. But “2 Broke Girls” has dozens of other problems, all of which stem from character, writing, and structure.

The devil’s in the details, as they say. “2 Broke Girls” continues to only make it halfway to accurate. There is a fundamental misunderstanding what it’s about to live as a young person in New York City, especially one with very little money. Michael Patrick King, the showrunner, served many, many years on “Sex and the City,” and he was effective there, providing an escapist fantasy for non-city dwellers while being careful to keep the geography accurate for sharp-eyed natives. However, there he was dealing with characters living like the upper class, even if they never identified themselves as such. Here, the characters pay constant lip service to their poverty, but King does not know what stories, attitudes, and behaviors organically rise from this situation. Being young and broke in New York has plenty of inherent drama. Think – the same stories from shows like “Friends” or “How I Met Your Mother,” stories of love, work, and friendship, still apply, but with the added stakes of money and circumstance. Impressing that new wacky boss becomes a necessity if you can’t quit your job after 22 minutes. An annoying landlord on a quest for the rent becomes the only thing standing between you and life on the street. The situations are ripe for comedy, particularly, in my opinion, farce. The very best farce – with humor that can be as broad as the side of a barn – comes from urgency. Necessity. Pacing. The more a character needs something, and the more that necessity contradicts the needs of other characters, the funnier the farce becomes. “NewsRadio,” one of the better and more overlooked sitcoms from the 90’s comedy boom, played as a wonderful farce in its three best seasons (the ones right in the middle of its five-year run). How did it do so? By establishing each member of its eight-person ensemble as a distinct personality, always looking for something specific. When each of these needs came in conflict with one another, the jokes flew faster and so did the laughs. So far “2 Broke Girls” has set the stage for farce but failed to deliver in pretty much every way.

The two leads, Kat Dennings as streetwise Max and Beth Behrs as sheltered Caroline, are fine, and their friendship (and business partnership) could be enough to hang a show on. In fact, “Laverne and Shirley” did just that for plenty of years. But just like that lowest-common-denominator show, “2 Broke Girls” is soft around the edges, relying on easy gags about the characters being female, having sex drives, and any number of unappealing sounds, smells, or sights in downtown Brooklyn.

The supporting characters are all on the miss side of hit-and-miss. Each attempt at developing a character who is not a young white female has been a wild miscalculation. Garrett Morris proves what a funny person can do with paper thin material, but his character still only gets about ten seconds of stereotypical jokes about being old, black, and cool per episode. Though he’s been set up as a surrogate father for Max, he’s yet to display anything more than polite concern for her well-being, let alone any advice or comfort. The other supporting characters – all of whom are male, actually – are also given next to nothing to work with. Michael Moy is forced to adopt a fake Korean accent and an embarrassingly nerdish demeanor, dropping jokes about his Tiger Mother and changing his name to “Bryce” (get it? It sounds like “rice,” a food Koreans are partial to) in order to become more American. Worst of all is Oleg, the lecherous line cook. With only a few seconds, he manages to fit in an hour of discomfort, with his obnoxious and unreturned sexual advances. Paired with a vaguely Eastern European accent – Ukrainian, according to the exposition – Oleg challenges the viewer to keep watching with his noxiously perverted one-liners.

Poverty is not inherently funny. But wealth is not inherently funny either. Economic realities are not, in general, inherently funny. What’s funny is watching loveable characters navigate those realities in ways that stem from real emotions, but can get outsized, crazy, and weird because of their place in a fictional universe. But no matter how wacky their antics get, their motivations and impulses have to be logical and relatable. “2 Broke Girls” is rarely logical. In fact, the jokes fall apart so quickly simply because of the lack of logic. In the first episode, Caroline and Max sneak uptown and steal Caroline’s horse. They bring it back to Brooklyn and put it in their backyard. The giant horse in the tiny Brooklyn patio is a decent sight gag. But each successive episode has kept the horse there! This is so stupid it boggles the mind. The title of the show references how poor the leads are. Are the writers unaware of how expensive it is to keep at horse fed and taken care of? Are they unaware of how much time that takes? Are they unaware of how much exercise a horse needs per day? I know I was. But then I spent three minutes researching on the internet. The information is there, and it readily contradicts any chance that “2 Broke Girls” is taking place on planet Earth. There are plenty of little things, too – the anachronistically graffiti’ed subway cars from the mid-1980’s, the girls wasting money on five-dollar Starbucks lattes when they work at a coffee slinging diner, the constant references to hipsters when no one seems sure of what a hipster is – it’s all frustrating. And it all drags the viewer out of the show and, at least for the astute TV-watcher, into a more critical mindset. Similar problems surely dogged other shows over the years. But small inconsistencies can be overlooked when balanced by great jokes.

And here’s the biggest problem of all – “2 Broke Girls” isn’t funny. Dennings and Behrs both seem aware of what a joke is, and how to tell one. But neither one has been handed a genuinely well-crafted one so far. Most of the humor relies on sarcastic puns, repeating what another characters has just said, the word “hipster,” or some kind of tripping, slipping, squirting, or splashing. There’s plenty of sexual content, but it’s all crude and mean-spirited. Unlike the best blue comedies, like “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” there’s again, no strong sense of character behind it. Instead, every character is either shamed for having a sex drive or shamed for not having more of one. The girls don tight shirts and short skirts in what seems like a desperate attempt to retain male viewers. The girls put down every male in sight in hopes of appealing to female ones. But what appeals to viewers of all types is humor that arises from universal experiences, understandable reactions, or a complete and utter subversion of them. You cannot prompt the audience to worry about whether or not Max and Caroline will get a new electric mixer when the denouement of the episode finds them doing a gross, sexually charged take on Lucille Ball’s famous chocolate-wrapping routine. The comparisons do not favor “2 Broke Girls.”

“I Love Lucy” was probably the last and best example of a show that could combine farcical comedy with realistic family stakes. Perhaps it was lent some level of empathy because the audience knew Ball was married to her onscreen husband Desi Arnaz. Perhaps gender politics of the time made Lucy’s increasingly ridiculous schemes feel more realistic. But my prevailing theory is that when “I Love Lucy” aired, audiences found it the funniest show on television. But with so much fantastic comedy on TV right now, hopefully audiences will come to their senses and realize there is more to choose from than “2 Broke Girls.”

Returning/New Shows September 26-30

Returning Shows MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 26

How I Met Your Mother:
The third episode in HIMYM’s seventh season enters into a pantheon of top-tier three-camera episodes, full of zig-zagging timelines and a resumption of Ted’s romantic woes in a refreshingly consistent way. The plot pings back and forth between Ted’s meeting with Victoria – told as a story within a story – and the gang’s travels to Marshall’s favorite restaurant, where Barney plots diabolically to figure out a way to fondle Lily’s pregnant breasts.

The episode is delightfully quaint. Some of the best episodes in the show’s history (including probably the best full stop, season two’s “Slap Bet”) have used this dynamic, grounding Ted and Robin in the real stakes while Barney, Lily, and Marshall run circles around them. And these two threads, and the places where they cross, provide tension, snap, and plenty of humor this week.

Victoria, Ted’s first true love in the series, has returned momentarily. It’s a nice chance to see how far Ted’s character has come since then. The writers may have neglected him at times over the years, but overall Ted can now easily tell that he isn’t meant to be with Victoria, while in earlier seasons he may have spent many more episodes trying to win her back. After much of Ted’s audience goodwill was lost after the Zoey debacle last season, it’s good to see a return to the much more likeable and relatable character of Ted. In fact, this season, only three episodes in, may do for Ted’s character what the sixth did for Marshall and Barney’s.

2 Broke Girls:

“Rude, crude, and in a bad mood” describes “2 Broke Girls’” second episode so cornily well that not much else can be said. This episode is a complete and total retread of the first. Rather than use the pilot to determine which elements of the show are working and which are failing, instead the second episode goes through the same motions again. One scene with Garrett Morris’ vaguely charming cashier? Check. One scene where the lecherous cook overhears a personal conversation and uses it as an excuse to imply a lesbian relationship between the leads? Check. A scene where the token dumb socialite mother insults the appearance of her children? Check. The only new element added this week was a crass joke about Beth Behers’ character falling in horse crap.

However, even that broad gag fell completely flat when any sense of urgency was stripped from the premise in the third act. Even the labored setup in the first few scenes, where Caroline remarks several times that she only possesses one set of clothing and that Max’s apartment has no water, results in no payoff whatsoever. Instead of building tension when Caroline has to sneak into Max’s babysitting job to shower, instead there is a cut to a later scene and the characters talk about what happened in the interim. Sloppy writing is hardly worthy of hope, and “2 Broke Girls” needs to do something new soon.

Returning Shows TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 27

Glee:

Another episode of “Glee,” another uneven attempt to provide some continuity in the rapidly shifting and growing universe. The “Glee” world seems to consist solely of characters with a Deep, Dark, sordid history that relates to whatever crisis the leads are going through this week. It’s hard to care about the ailment of the week, or problem of the week, or romantic entanglement of the week. So much of “Glee” depends on what week it is. Themes and songs line up conveniently.

Idina Menzel’s competing choir director has returned, bringing with her hanging plotlines left over from the first season finale. The aftermath of Quinn’s pregnancy, Puck’s battle to stay relevant in his daughter’s life, and Rachel’s feelings of abandonment are all dragged up by Menzel’s return. Hopefully, this isn’t the last we see of her character until next season.

The Quinn plotline seems to have shaped itself into something new already. Once again, Quinn has pledged to another character that her sweet, bland exterior is only an act, and one that obscures her truly sinister undertones. This time, she somehow wants to get her daughter back. The character is certainly in for a rude awakening when she finds out adoption is legally binding, and unless the show is willing to show months and months of slow-moving legal action, this plotline is heading nowhere fast.

More interesting is the direction they’re taking Kurt this year. Last year, Kurt was played handily by Chris Colfer as sympathetic if overly sanitized, losing the biting edge that made him complex in the first year. All last year, Kurt was told over and over again to celebrate his differences, encouraged to stand out as much as he could. Now, he’s seeing that while pride is a wonderful quality to have in life, it may not be the best way to gain acceptance in the theater world. Despite drawing largely gay men, the musical theater scene is still based primarily on heterosexual love stories, with male leads needing to at the very least pass as traditionally masculine and straight. Kurt, try as he might, cannot do so. This struggle is something Kurt truly has to come to terms with, and while I do not like that Burt, his supportive father, has encouraged him to write his own material instead of try to overcome this obstacle, here’s hoping this is not abandoned as the season continues. The songs this week are actually tied together in a subtle “West Side Story” homage, but thankfully this is not hammered by the writers and instead just serves to tie together an otherwise far-reaching episode.

New Girl:

After terrible second episodes to shows such as “2 Broke Girls,” the pilot to “New Girl” has ascended to the pantheons of “not offensively bad” in my mind, so expectations were at that bar for the second episode. Fortunately, that low-hanging achievement was met by last night’s episode, which also suffered some retread from the pilot but managed to stay enjoyable throughout. And as time passes, “New Girl” becomes rosier and rosier in my mind.

Notable was the absence of Damon Wayans Jr., whose awkwardly bad-tempered Coach flirted with caricature but was well-played nonetheless. Instead he has been replaced by Lamare Morris, essentially replacing the same role in the ensemble that Wayans did. Morris luckily has a low-key energy that does not trend towards urgency very well but doesn’t grate like Greenfield’s Schmidt can occasionally.

The show takes its inspiration from “How I Met Your Mother” with its relationship theorizing and snappy catchphrasing. The writing isn’t bad, but scenes on top of scenes where characters sit around and talk play significantly better in a 3-camera set than a single-camera one. It’s a good inspiration for the writers – the first few seasons of that show had great ensemble work and good writing. But copying that voice is not enough. “New Girl’s” next challenge is to find something unique within its universe. And hint – it is NOT the assortment of oddities plaguing Jess. In fact, step one should be to ground her somewhere in reality.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 29th

The Office:

Given the Thursday night comedy landscape, an old horse like “The Office” can no longer keep up. In its second episode of the season, it’s clearer than ever that the wheels on this show are spinning. James Spader’s character Robert California is no more solidified than he was last week. While there’s no shame in having an enigmatic character whose motives are questioned, the other characters solely react to him with fear and intimidation because he’s the boss. So far he manages the office with sharp honesty and calm. His approach might be welcome on the show, which has been plagued by the ineffective managerial stylings of Michael Scott.

But Scott, for all his flaws, made sense as the boss in certain ways. He was far and away the best salesman on the staff, and his touchy-feely let’s-be-friends approach may have alienated some of his underlings, but in the end garnered people with genuine respect for him. Andy Bernard is hardly as complex as Michael Scott. Andy is a walking embodiment of just how far one can coast on privilege without any discernible skills. He’s managed to float to the top of this (moderate) corporate pyramid by being a terrible salesman, unqualified, and one of the younger candidates. Andy is also kind and generous, which gets him into a bind when he pledges that he’ll get a tattoo if the office is able to increase their profits.

Parks and Recreation:

Rarely is it a good idea to give a powerfully mysterious character backstory. Often it can eliminate any sense of surprise; as more is explained, less becomes compelling, tragic, or funny. Fortunately for “Parks and Recreation,” Ron Swanson is so powerful that even with the addition of Tammys 1 and 0 and a significant backstory, he remains a compelling character. Most of this is due to Nick Offerman’s unbelievable work.

The B and C stories this week are good, if slight. Ben’s travails with Entertainment 720 further illuminate how quickly this start up business is going to fail, and does some nice work humanizing Tom, preparing the audience for his inevitable return. Without Ben and Leslie able to stay in a relationship, it helps to give Ben something more to do, and his friendship with Tom is a good choice. None of the other characters so far have had a meaningful relationship with Tom, and deepening his character by having him realize that the shallow dreams of tossing around money without having worked for is immature.

Rob Lowe does a wonderful job playing off of the exasperated Rashida Jones in the featherweight C-story about the two filming a PSA on diabetes. There’s not much more to it, but it’s pleasant to see Lowe playing a poor improviser, very similarly to how Alec Baldwin feigned terrible flopsweat and panic in an early episode of “30 Rock.” It’s also nice to see Jones acknowledge the two characters’ relationship from the previous season. It’d be nice to see Chris’ near-psychosis pay off in some way as the season goes on, but even if it doesn’t, this still added to one of the best episodes of comedy so far this fall.

But no matter what happened on the sidelines, this was a Ron Swanson episode, pure and simple. Offerman swaps deftly between the hyper-masculine, typical Ron, a wary and fearful Ron, and the post-Tammy 1 emasculated, wimpy Ron. It’s the type of performance that garners Emmy nominations, and if it’s being burned off as the second episode, there must be fantastic things ahead for Ron and the rest of the crew. The final setpiece, a “Prairie Drink Off” between the Tammys and Leslie, gets extremely broad, but remains hilarious because the stakes are so high. Ron Swanson as we know and love him in danger, and both Tammys wish to get their claws into him and make him their own. Leslie, while a noble participant in the contest, is no match for the ice cold Tammy 1, the squat and sturdy Tammy 0, or the moonshine they’re drinking (even April, a proud Puerto Rican, can’t stomach a single mouthful). But when Leslie dissolves into a truly tragic drunken stupor just so Ron can continue to be who he really is, it inspires something in the temporarily un-mustachioed Swanson. He gains the conviction to down the bottle of moonshine and win the contest himself, dictating sharply that he wants to banish the Tammys and reclaim his identity as Ron Fucking Swanson. The audience wouldn’t approve of any other way.

Community:

Britta and Annie return to their own pasts this week on “Community.” Annie is sent back to high school when another hyper-competitive Annie tries to steal her thunder, while Britta finds herself in a push-pull flirtation with Chang the security guard and civil disobedience.

Frankly, the conclusion to both of these storylines is more hackneyed than is typical for
Community” fans. Britta’s final, absurdly ineffectual gesture is baffling by design, but still doesn’t have much impact. Hopefully this thread will not remain untied as the season goes on. While Britta thus far has been characterized by emotional arrested development, her coming to terms with her past could be played with sophistication. She also tells Shirley in the first scene that she’s decided to study psychology. Perhaps some self-analyzing will ensue.

The same goes for Annie and Jeff returning to their debate roots in a Model-UN-Off where they only manage to win by using a quick combination of Jeff's lawyer skills, Abed's pop culture acumen, and Annie's insaceable need to defeat her rival - the Asian and equally ambitious Annie Kim. Martin Starr appears as their Professor Cligoris, singlehandedly disproving that there are no funny names.

Not every episode of "Community" can provide the sturm and drang of "Modern Warfare," "Epidimediology," or even "Critical Film Studies." Instead this is another slightly underwhelming week of setup. It does prompt the careful veiwer to note Britta's impending quarter-life-crisis and Annie's surprisingly over-the-top temper tantruming.

Whitney:

Another weak episode of “Whitney.” Certainly no surprise. This may have already locked up the spot for worst fall show. It also singlehandedly proves that you cannot have your cake and eat it too. Want a show about a mildly neurotic single girl trying to navigate big-city dating? Then don’t spend your pilot dictating that the two lead characters have been in a five-year relationship. Want a realistic look at the ins and outs of unmarried adults in a long term relationship? Then don’t send the female protagonist into a panic every few minutes about the dangers of not being in the honeymoon stage indefinitely. What “Whitney” needed to do this week was give example of something that could be a typical conflict for these characters. Explain why their jobs are important. Give some context to their friendships. Sitcoms live and die by their characters and jokes. Even on the lamer popular shows, these are the elements that people respond to. Sitcoms do not live or die by the platitudes they spout, but that’s where “Whitney” is spending its energy.

No longer having Cummings’ hour special to work from, this episode settles on old observations from previous seasons of “30 Rock” and nothing else. No jokes. Most of the humor supposedly should come from D’Elia’s generic boyfriend character acting genuinely baffled at the mood swings and general mental illness of his terrifyingly unpredictable girlfriend, but his rational behavior – at least at first – is completely understandable. The episode actually switches focus at the midpoint and begins to focus on D’Elia after Cummings becomes frustrated and kicks him out. Is this meant to be a show with a dual protagonist? While D’Elia is less grating a personality than Cummings, that’s simply because he doesn’t have much of a personality at all. When he is convinced by his crass cop friend to go along with Cummings, who wants to do an extended role-play that the two have just started dating, the episode loses any semblance of a sympathetic character.

Once again, rather than introduce complications or conflicts, the show resorts to Cummings dressed in slutty outfits. In fact, it comes earlier in this episode than in the pilot. And in order to do better than the last, they add an underwhelming girl-on-girl kissing scene meant to be titillating. It comes across as crass and desperate. Same goes for the conclusion, where the two adult leads – who are in a relationship – get back together. It’s a result without weight, and thus has no emotional impact. The clock is ticking on “Whitney.” Hopefully it will be replaced by the already superior “Up All Night” at midseason along with “30 Rock.”

Project Runway:

It’s back to drama drama drama on “Project Runway” this week. In the first ten minutes, Anya manages to use her pageant training for some excellent waterworks when she misplaces her envelope of fabric money. Vicktor passive-aggressively makes snide remarks about Josh that implies cheating. Burt faces extra scrutiny because he’s the only designer remaining who even lived through the 70’s. The other girls decide not to tell Kimberly that they think her ensemble is tacky in order to get her sent home.

But after last week’s disaster challenge, at least this week is somewhat compelling. Of course, plenty of the designers end up with disastrous looks, and the constant praise for Anya’s mediocre sewing and Josh’s spangled nonsense has become predictable and boring. Even Vicktor, the only remaining contestant who continues to surprise or intrigue with his work, is scrambling to come up with bon mots in the talking heads. Playing the game of “Project Runway” has become a game all the contestants are hip to, and while it’s still possible to laugh at their efforts, it also removes some of the fun.

Archer:

The conclusion of “Heart of Archness” is upon us. Too tragic, that there won’t be any more of this wonderful show until January 2012. But, until then, there’s not much to say. This hour and a half of material has been a wonder to watch, is funny as hell, and while it may have seemed fitfully structured when split up by commercials and full weeks, it’ll play like gangbusters if released as a straight-to-DVD feature.

The best business in this conclusion comes from character. Archer in particular. Over the past two years, Adam Reed has given his leading man enough hilarious quirks, idiosyncracies, and details to propel this whole story to a firey, helicopter-dangling, lacrosse-playing, fantastic end.

How to be a Gentleman:

There’s no show I wish I enjoyed more than “How to be a Gentleman.” It comes from the mind of David Hornsby, better known as the frequently t-bagged Rickety Cricket from “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.” After serving as a producer and writer on that show, Hornsby has collected plenty of comedic ringers for his ensemble sitcom. Rhys Darby from “Flight of the Concords,” Mary Lynn Raksjub from “Mr. Show,” and Dave Foley from “Kids in the Hall” each have made television comedy history with their great work. All three have also done their own writing, and probably could have contributed something more original to their characters. Unfortunately, all three come across as disappointingly generic. But respect must be given to Hornsby, for he was no doubt a reason why these talented people chose to join the show.

The only weak links in the cast seem to be more CBS inspired than Hornsby inspired. His co-lead is “Entourage’s” Kevin Dillon. Dillon is doing what he did for years on that show, playing his crass, brash “Johnny Drama” persona with little subtlety. Almost as collateral, Hornsby is playing very quiet with his character. Perhaps this is due to his years working on a single camera sitcom, but it comes across as flat and boring. He’s almost as bad as Dillon, and their relationship is meant to center this show. The other uninspiring element is Hornsby’s neighbor/love interest of the week. She was previously featured on “How I Met Your Mother” as the borderline psychotic “Blah Blah.” Her character here could have the same name, but has none of the flair.

Maybe “How to be a Gentleman” will gain momentum once Hornsby gains his 3-camera voice and figures out how to write for his talented cast. But, as of now it is disappointingly characteristic of CBS, not of the people involved.

Capsule Pilot Reviews: TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14TH

New Girl:

Zooey Deschanel comes to television to join her sister Emily on FOX’s new comedy “New Girl.” The sitcom follows Deschanel’s character Jess as she suffers an embarrassing breakup and the resulting scramble for new housing. The whole situation lands her (reasonably realistically, considering) in a LA apartment with three guys, played by Jake Johnson, Damon Wayans Jr., and Max Greenfield. Her best friend is played by the refreshingly normal and reasonable Hannah Simone.

A nice change of pace is Jess’ assortment of strange quirks. Mind, it’s not the quirks themselves that break the mold, but rather the surrounding characters, who treat her and her oddities as some sort of mild mental illness. Frankly, they’re not far off. Most frank about his discomfort is Damon Wayans Jr. So great on “Happy Endings,” Wayans will have to leave in the next episode due to that show’s renewal. But since the relationship between the four friends has yet to totally gel, it’s possible they may be able to find someone with even more ensemble chemistry.

Jess is so weighed down with Deschanel’s various affectations that it’s hard to get a feel for whether or not she’ll be strong enough at the center, but Johnson, playing the most obviously human of the three male roommates, is quite good. He strikes an interesting and vaguely familiar note, like “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’s” Charlie Day on Xanax. Probably the best laugh-out-loud moment in the pilot comes when Jess asks him if he’ll ax murder her and, with perfect comic timing, he says “definitely.” Little things like that will make or break “New Girl.”

Free Agents:

Hank Azaria headlines this not-quite-comedy doing a more adult version of the “friends with benefits” theme that’s permeated the summer. In it, Azaria plays Alex, a man still suffering emotional damage from his recent divorce. His foil is the equally unstable Kathryn Hahn playing Helen, a woman who still has not managed to grieve properly for her dead fiancé.

There are funny moments throughout, usually courteous of Anthony Stewart Head, who adopts a loose, laconic acting style (mastering the art of delivering lines while something else seems to be on his mind) betraying his experience playing the exact same character on the original British version of the series. Unfortunately, most of the other supporting characters give performances pitched far too broad. Joe Lo Truligo and Natasha Leggero have been better – and funny – elsewhere, so it can be hoped that once their characters find a place within the office universe, they’ll be toned down. The same cannot be said for the outright dreadful Mo Mandel. His obnoxious, irritating performance completely misses the mark. Even a chronic overactor such as Azaria seems embarrassed to be sharing a scene with such a walking misstep. If I could ask one thing of this show, it would be to fire Mandel immediately.

My second request would be that the writers not be afraid to treat the unhappiness of their leads with honesty. Both Azaria and Hahn are playing characters hitting rock bottom, but the overall tone of the show seems desperate to distract from that. What would boost this show immensely is to tap into that deep, dark core and be unafraid to show the neuroses that inform the (thankfully few) “wacky” antics of its leads. For example, a scene where Azaria’s character cannot help but start crying at the sound of a song, the moment would have been better had the script truly established the real pain behind the emotion in a previous scene instead of going for a quick punchline. Holding off on the humor and providing more outright tragedy would make the show more unique and make it seem more meaningful.

Ultimately, “Free Agents” would probably be better served by a 10PM timeslot on Showtime, where it could be as dark as it pleased. But, since all it has is NBC and abandonment on Tuesday in a blind attempt at a new comedy night, what can be hoped is that the writers and directors tone down the mugging, broad performances from the supporting cast and embrace the essential darkness lurking beneath its confectionary premise.

Up All Night:

My biggest worry going into “Up All Night” was that Will Arnett’s Chris and Christina Applegate’s Reagan would seem like hapless idiots incapable of doing even the simplest of childrearing tasks. Fortunately, the advertising was misleading. Chris and Reagan are actually quite smart and capable, and seem to have found a happy balance of taking care of their daughter, Amy. The pilot just catches them at a seismic time. Reagan is returning to work, and the couple is forced for the first time to truly confront the new identities they’ve created as parents with the fun-loving, irresponsible drinkers they were to the outside world. This tension provides most of the narrative drive, if not many big laughs. In fact, despite Arnett and Applegate’s experiences doing broad comedy in various other TV and movies, there’s not much playing to the balcony coming from them. Their frustrations for the most part seem reined in and reasonably realistic.

Maya Rudolph’s character, Ava, threatens to upset this balance. Rudolph has been chronically underserved by weak material on SNL and other supporting parts that lean her towards “grating” instead of “amusing.” But her excellent turn in “Bridesmaids” this summer led the producers of “Up All Night” to boost her Oprah-like role. Disappointingly, these producers don’t seem to have paid attention to what made Rudolph great in that role. She possesses a natural and easy charm, but when forced into an overly mannered performance she can quickly become hammy and over-the-top. That’s where she is here, and her almost childlike attention span and selfishness are a harsh disruption to the small domestic world.

“Up All Night” is at its best when the urgency of the scenes come from Reagan and Chris’ fundamental understanding of what they should do without the comprehension of how to get there. A heavily teased moment where they can’t help but shout at their child in fury gains another level when paired with the preceding scenes of them attempting to recapture their foolish, hedonistic ways.

“Up All Night” is anchored by two surprisingly restrained performances, but side characters could damage the show’s ability to build an appealing and consistent world.