Crazy Ex-Girlfriend: "Can Josh Take a Leap of Faith?"

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend suffered a sophomore slump, no doubt the result of Santino Fontana's untimely exit. Greg was just gearing up to have the best character arc of the season. Then, without so much as choreography, he left West Covina, and Rebecca, behind. The official word is that Fontana had only signed on for one season, and had never planned to stay, but his alcoholism storyline and setup to be the guy Rebecca's actually "meant for" makes me think there may have been more going on behind the scenes.

Here's my wild theory/the way I would have done it: I expect the final escalator goodbye was the planned Season 2 finale - the climax of incredible positive growth and change in Greg. He was, after all the character that didn't fit in with the rest, whose dreams were always bigger than that town three short hours from the beach. His exit was inevitable, but it happened too soon. For me, Season 2 felt like two seasons smashed together - One where we see Greg grow and move on, finally acknowledging that Rebecca was no good for him; and one where Rebecca, in the wake of that heartache runs back to Josh again, only to be stymied by the hot new boss in the office. Neither of those storylines got the time they deserved.

Rebecca has a "dissociative episode." Josh has cold feet.
Source: tvline.com

The fact that the show's reinvigoration coincided with the introduction of a new male love interest is not lost on me. Nor is the irony that a show that started out so fiercely, satirically feminist got its boost from a man. Nonetheless, Scott Michael Foster's Nathaniel has brought a rude, pretentious frat boy energy that the show hadn't seen yet (except perhaps from Audra Levine) and that made him a worthy match for Bloom's strong Rebecca. Then, at the end of the two final episodes of Season 2, he showed a softer side by finding, and subsequently lambasting, Rebecca's absent father. Speaking of her father, Rebecca's daddy issues culminated painfully in the finale, ensuring that every viewer knew precisely who damaged this now-crazy ex. I expect most of us were screaming at our TVs along with Dr. Akopian.

The other important man in the finale was... Robert? Honestly, "who the dickens is Robert?" On the one hand, yes, there is a HUGE gap between the 16-year old drama camp Rebecca we're introduced to in the show's first scene and accomplished lawyer Rebecca who leaves New York on a whim. And sure, I guess it always was a little odd that Harvard obsessed Rebecca went to Yale Law. But this Robert thing came out of nowhere for me. (And for Heather, too.) I'm still not sure it works. Additional dim-lit flashbacks to college days and time spent in a sanitarium in episodes to come may help fill in the blanks. After all, the flashbacks shed a dark light on the delusional lyrics of the Season 2 opening theme.

The reintroduction of Trent was fun, and I can't get enough of his devious smile, but his "Top Secret" envelope was the gun that wasn't fired. Even if Rebecca's past indiscretions aren't what sent Josh running to the priesthood, the grand reveal of those dark memories needs to make an appearance in a future episode (and not just a dissociative one.)

Josh's new career choice? A brilliant turn. The character of Josh Chan has always been the perfect combination of idealistic, impetuous, and dim - three traits that in combination could make any groom join the priesthood on his wedding day.

#squadgoals
Source: tvfanatic.com

The best thing Season 2 gave us (besides some great new songs) is one heck of a girl squad. Their bond may have been forced at first, but now they are a force to be reckoned with. Valencia was totally in her element in all that hands-free-walkie-talkie wedding planner glory. Vella Lovell's impeccable comedic timing makes every one of Heather's one-liners a monotone mic drop. And you know who's always been a little crazy? Paula. Season 2 made her sensible, and that allowed Donna Lynne Champlin to show some incredible range, but I'm ready to see Paula's stalker side again in Season 3.

So, we've seen the kind of crazy ex-girlfriend who moves across the country for a man who's dating someone else. We've seen the kind of girl-in-love who plans a wedding in two weeks so her man won't leave and she won't cheat. Next, I guess, we'll see new kind of crazy ex. The kind who sets things on fire. I'll watch that.

Finale Reviews: Parks and Recreation: "One Last Ride"

Source: nbc.com

I don't know where to begin. This final season of Parks and Rec had its misses, sure. But they were eclipsed by the precious, heartfelt moments we were given this season, especially last night. And that is worth something. Even in a final episode that was not perfect, and a final season that felt rushed, the audience was given a satisfying, happy ending. Lots of happy endings, actually.

Some of the highest points of the episode were those that rewarded longtime viewers. Tom's glamour shot, the Halloween costumes, Cones of Dunshire II, Leslie's scrapbooks, a library (of all things) in Leslie's name, and even a flash forward easter egg that revealed Jean-Ralphio's ultimate fate. There were a few delightful cameos from recurring characters - Ethel Beavers, Kyle, Brandi Maxxxx, and Dr. Saperstein were some of my favorites. And of course the actual cameo from Vice President Joe Biden was a treat.

Though I wish we'd seen a little more of it, I enjoyed the overarching theme of one final parks project for the gang to tackle, and I think its triviality made sense in the little Parks and Rec world we've come to love. Leslie in particular has never shied away from the smallest of tasks if it could make a difference to someone she served. That's what made her Leslie Knope. I have two favorite quotes from last's night's episode, and both of them are about what was at the heart of this show: hard work for the greater good.

"Show up on time. Speak honestly and treat everyone with fairness." -Ron Swanson

"Work hard at work worth doing." -Leslie Knope

Those, dear viewers, are words to live by.

My biggest complaint is that there was too much plot to fit in the single hour finale, but it's still ok. While the episode might have been a little too full, what is was full of was happiness. Parks and Rec is quite possibly the happiest, brightest, most optimistic show on television. And Pawnee is definitely the happiest little TV town since Mayberry. So yes, the episode was abundant with plotlines that weren't as completely developed or masterfully executed, as say, those in The Office finale, but each one gave us a happy ending. They showed us the happy future:

Chris and Ann will find health and happiness literally anywhere they go. 

Jerry/Larry/Terry/Garry eventually found his place, and never stopped smiling. 

April and Andy will always be a great team. 

Donna will never stop treating herself - and coming through for others. 

Tom will always land on his feet with a new idea. 

Ron will always (reluctantly) find himself working happily for the government. 

Leslie and Ben will obviously support each other as flawed individuals and perfect partners - no matter what. 

Leslie and Ben: perfect partners, obviously.
Source: nbc.com

One last thing about last night's finale. It represents more than just the end of a funny, sweet, special show. It represents the end of a special era of NBC comedy - one that included The Office, 30 Rock, and Community. These shows were a big part of the sitcom revolution; they helped re-introduce the single-camera sitcom to US audiences. Parks and Rec is more than a special little show. It's an important show. For TV, for comedy, for public service, and for small-town diners serving waffles everywhere.

Finale Reviews: Parks and Rec Season 6 - "Moving Up"

"Love and Waffles and Possibility"

Ready to say goodbye to these guys?
Source: nbc.com

Parks and Rec returns tonight. Seems like there's no better time to look back, and look forward. I'll say it now, I'm apprehensive. NBC has squeezed this show's teensy thirteen-episode farewell season into the tiniest stretch of the television real estate imaginable. Promo ads reveal that Season 7 will be coming to us "From the Future!" Season 6 sometimes hit, but largely missed. For all these reasons, I'm nervous that one of my favorite shows on TV won't get the goodbye its earlier seasons deserve.

The Season 6 finale, "Moving Up" helped quell my fears... a little.

I was rewatching that episode last week, I kept thinking, "why is everything so over the top?" The Unity Concert, the panoramic shots of San Francisco, the Michelle Obama cameo... Wasn't this too big for a show about Pawnee, Indiana? The place where a Freddy Spaghetti concert was a major event?

At the start of Season 7, where are we?
Source: nbc.com

Then something Jennifer Barkley said hit me. Leslie outgrew her position in the Parks Department. And just as Leslie grew out of her small town dreams in Pawnee, Parks and Rec might have grown up without my realizing it. Freddy Spaghetti was way back in Season 2. Since then, Pawnee has hosted the Harvest Festival, a model UN, a huge Founders' Week celebration and parade, and countless more    events - all of which wouldn't have been possible without Leslie Knope and her big dreams.

"Moving Up" was a happy episode. It was true to its characters. It gave us more Cones of Dunshire! It set up a beautiful future for Pawnee. Even though it didn't feel like the show's beginnings, it felt a little like it could have been the show's end. As many have noted, the episode's flash forward final scene would have even made for a satisfying series finale. And it would have been a happy ending! ...But it's not the end.

So where does that leave us? Leslie said it best: "The sun is rising over a sea of love, and waffles, and possibility."

Love
Like it's inspiration (The Office), Parks and Rec has garnered a bevy of supportive, loving fans. Fans who will probably love the final season even if it does all take place in a ridiculously corny future far from the gentle/brash comedy beginnings it greeted us with in its first few seasons.

Waffles
No matter what happens, Parks and Rec has left us with a legacy of television characters, moments, and quotes that won't be changed even if the network does dismiss its one-time hit with a rushed final season. If waffles make a comeback with my generation, it'll be thanks to Leslie Knope.

Possibility
We've got thirteen more episodes with our friends in Pawnee. Part of me is worried. Worried that these "futuristic" episodes will ruin all the great ones that came before. But then, that's not a very Knope-like attitude, is it? No, I'm going to choose optimism. That these episodes will be great. At least, they have a chance to be. And I'm hopeful.

Finale Reviews: Nashville Season 2 - "On the Other Hand"

Nashville's Season 2 finale cemented what was perhaps already certain - Chris Carmack is the MVP of this show. And his character, Will Lexington, has got nothing but trouble coming toward him now. Yes, Season 1's finale left Rayna in a coma and Juliette an orphan, but Will's fate at the end of the second season hit the audience (well, me, at least) harder than those cliffhangers did. In part, it was the inevitability of his fate. This far into the plot, Will had made too many missteps to keep his secret hidden for much longer. Even more painful, though, is the fact that it will be Will himself who reveals it all. And he has outed himself to the world in a moment he thought was private. Chris Carmack delivered that moment with such heartbreak and humanity, not unlike his moment on the tracks a year ago. Only now we know his heartbreak won't be hidden anymore. It was devastating. And acted so devastatingly well.

Of course the real MVP of Nashville is the music, which consistently articulates what the show's dialogue can't seem to, and allows the actors to deliver emotion in a way that makes the show utterly unique among its soapy ABC brethren. The music of the finale was no exception. Scarlett and Gunnar's beautiful Bluebird duet of "It Ain't Yours to Throw Away" was a haunting backdrop to the destruction in Will's life and Juliette's, too.

This duet opened with a cinematic moment that deserves mentioning. It was only for a moment, but before they begin singing, the two characters faced each other in one room, but illuminated by opposite lights. The melancholy, pensive poet, Scarlett, was spotlighted in blue, while Gunnar stood in a glowing red. They were separated almost exactly down the center of the shot by a single strand of white Christmas lights. It was marvelous. Symbolic of their differences, and the distance between them, yet as full of warmth as the song that would follow. (Unfortunately, it happens right before video above starts, 36 minutes and 33 seconds into the episode, if you're curious.)

Now, as much as I enjoyed "On the Other Hand," I have a few problems with the episode. First: for much of the 42 minutes, the show business aspect of the plot centered around sales of the characters' digital singles in order to top the charts. Not only were the mechanics of this not clearly explained for an audience unfamiliar with the concept, but in the end, chart-topping wasn't even particularly important to the movement of the story. It just took up minutes I would have rather spent hearing a longer conversation between Scarlett and Avery.

Second: I don't usually comment on the wardrobe aspects of TV shows, because I am vastly under qualified to do so. (I wish frequenting wornontv.net qualified one to speak about such things, but alas…) However, I just gotta say, what the heck was going on with the hats in this episode?! First, Gunnar has that Charlie Chaplin number somehow magically affixed to the back of his head. Can you say, distracting? Then, Luke Wheeler shows up with a hat so sparkly, he could have proposed to Rayna with that! We haven't seen such a fashion misstep on this show since Rayna's fedora disaster during her Liam days.

Though not exactly in as much suspense as at the conclusion of Season 1, "On the Other Hand" did leave me with a few lingering questions. Chief among them, why does it seem Rayna was totally fine with the unexpected, over-the-top, public proposal by Luke? A proposal she had to accept, and was not discussed ahead of time? Is this poor character development? Or just one more example of how Rayna is great at solving others' problems, but disastrous at even identifying her own? Another query: was there more to Avery and Scarlett's conversation than was shown on screen? I mean, was there more in the script? Because that scene seemed cut short, and did not thoroughly explain Avery's attitude in his later conversation with Juliette. Perhaps it was meant to be ambiguous. That way the audience is left in as much limbo as Juliette herself? I can only hope these questions will be answered when Nashville returns next fall.

Finale Reviews: Community Season 5 / Series Finale

"We could be roped up, tied up, dead in a year…"

A good friend of mine and fan of Community pointed out to me this week how poignant the show's theme song was on the day its cancellation was announced. Apparently, all the reasons NBC kept this show on the air one by one just faded away.

Consequently, "Basic Sandwich," which aired on April 17, 2014, constituted not only the end of the fifth season of Community, but will also (probably, although I suppose not certainly) serve as the series finale. Darkest Timeline, indeed, for a show to end just one season and one movie short of its catchphrase.

13 episodes does not constitute a full season in my book. And it's equally a shame that "Basic Sandwich," which stood alone on its air-night but so obviously should have been the second half of an hour long episode - will just have to do for a finale.

Not that the episode wasn't good. It was. Did it have some plotholes? Sure. Some frighteningly melodramatic moments? Absolutely. For example, take the conclusion. How does having Russell Borchert as Vice Dean solve all of Greendale's problems? Chang has diamond teeth now, so it isn't even as though they got his money. And melodrama? Out the wazoo. I mean, the emphatic shushing would have been expected from the Dean, but was overkill from the group at large. It did not elicit a laugh from this viewer.

But in spite of all that, it was a solid episode. And it spite of its worst episodes and its low fourth season, Community was (is? sigh.) a solid show. And it's a show I'll miss. Maybe not as much as I miss The Office a year after its finale, but I'll miss it.

Source: nbc.com

Shirley, Hickey, and Duncan really drew the short straw on this episode, didn't they? Well, either that or they took one for the team. But honestly, keeping Shirley upstairs excluded her from Jeff's emotional, door-opening, life-saving, flashback moment. And that's a real shame, because the Shirley/Jeff dynamic that was solidified in the season 3 episode "Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism" is one of the deeper, more meaningful connections I've seen on the show.

Speaking of Jeff's big moment, it was beautiful. Fantastical as the plot setup was, Jeff's experience of emotion was as perfect a conclusion to his character arc as we could hope for. Well, actually his speech at the conclusion of season 3 (found ridiculously in five parts here, here, here, here, and here) more accurately bookended his character by echoing but refuting his speech from the pilot. I still loved his emotional moment with his friends - his community - in the sealed off, dusty, forgotten Greendale Computery College. Even though Shirley wasn't there, and even though the audio flashbacks weren't quite as powerful as actual visual shots would have been. Despite what Abed says, I'll contend that this show really was about Jeff, and to see him grow to the point where his love can solve the problem instead of his arrogance creating it? That's beautiful.

Source: nbc.com

Community ought to go down in history as the anti-TV show. Consider the finale episode's anti-love story between Jeff and Britta. They begin the penultimate episode of the season with a decision to be together forever, and in the critical moment of the adventure, Britta and Jeff don't grasp one another's hands, they let go. The friendships on this show are anti-friendships. Or at the least, unlikely. And not the kind of unlikely that sitcoms usually pretend are odd couples but are actually as common as bad reality shows on cable. This was a show about a group of authentic misfits. Moreoever, Community made fun of itself and of TV in a remarkably funny way. Honestly, the fact that it lasted five seasons is unreal and something to be celebrated.

Now, this post would not be complete without a shoutout to Subway. Oh, Subway. You have done so much for my favorite NBC comedies. You helped Chuck out when times were tough for the Nerd Herd, allowed your slogan to cameo with Ryan Howard on The Office, and now, allowed your company to be the villain of Greendale. I'll get a five dollar footlong this week just to say thanks.

So let's talk about Abed for a bit, and all his meta-commentary on what this episode and show are and mean. "This show, Annie, it isn't just their show. This is our show," he reassures her, and launches into a hurried analysis of spin-offs and sitcoms and all that we who love TV love to hate about TV. It was one of my favorite moments in the episode. But it wasn't the moment that had the most to say about the show itself. That award goes to Annie and the line, "We were driven down here by sellouts with crappy values. Since when do human beings decide which dreams are worthwhile?" If the sellouts doesn't accurately describe the network execs who'd cancel Community, I don't know what word would.

Of course, I'm going with Abed on this one. Community has ended because, in that universe, an asteroid has destroyed all of human civilization. That's canon. But Community will always be a show I can return to. And I will, if only in my head every time I hear "Roxanne." And now, every time I hear "Ants Marching."  Community has made an incredible impact on television, particularly network television. I'm convinced of that. It mobilized its fan base like no show before it, and it was always in on the joke. The NBC joke, the sitcom joke, the fact that it was the butt of the joke. Community was possibly the most self-aware television show there ever was. As evidenced by their credits roll coda "Coming Soon to NBC." After all, what airs always does depend on what fails. Sorry to see you go, Community. Whatever new show takes your time slot has a tough act to follow. Maybe now the networks will get better at taking the advice from that theme song…

"So watch what you throw away; And be here to recognize; There's another way." 

Source: ew.com

How I Met Your Mother: "Last Forever" - A Review in Gifs

[This will contain SPOILERS. Did I really have to say that?]

So, obviously, despite the angry reviews I've given the show in the past, I had to watch the How I Met Your Mother series finale. And when I watched it, I knew I had to write something about it here on Rabbit Ear Reviews.

And yet, less than 48 hours after the episode's airing, it seems almost everything that could be said about "Last Forever" has been said. So I decided to express my thoughts on the show through the words of the McLaren's gang themselves. 

Has there been outrage from fans? Clearly. Unless you avoid social media like the plague, which clearly you don't because you're reading this, you've seen the outrage. As for me:

For so much of the episode, I just craved for something - anything of significance - to happen. Instead, I was like:

Other than a passive settling of Lily and Marshall's bet (and by the way - she better give him that money back) there were so few homages to the journey the characters have taken together. And no, the hanging chad costume wasn't enough for me.

 I didn't even cry. And I cry at everything. As I watched I was thinking:

But then we got that surprise ending. Well, half of it was a surprise. The fans had figured out that the Mother was dead awhile ago. But the Robin twist did fool us all. But fooling your audience? Do you really count that as a win, writers? Honestly, here's what I want. I want one - just a single member - of the cast, or crew, or creative team to admit that the finale wasn't the right way for HIMYM to end. They need to stop claiming it was. To them, I say this: 

And when they admitted that, I would want them to say: 

And here's why.  The ending, planned from the beginning, could have been great. The blue French horn, the very fact that Ted might just wind up with Robin after all, could have been a fantastic bookend to the pilot episode. Could have been. But somewhere along the line, they lost track of their endgame. Maybe because the show dragged on for too many seasons. Maybe because Robin got sidetracked by Barney. Or maybe just because Robin and Barney had more chemistry than anyone could have expected. Instead, the audience became invested in a different story. We longed for a different ending. 

Which brings me to my next point. Is it bad planning to begin writing a show and have no idea where the story will end up? Of course. (I'm looking at you, LOST.) But I think the writers of HIMYM just taught us a valuable lesson. It's just as bad to plan the ending from the beginning. Don't pretend you know everything that's going to happen to your characters because:

Television series are not novels. As they are written, they grow. They change. They're dynamic. And the creators don't get a rewrite of the first chapter after it's aired. So I think writers have to be willing to let the story go a new way that wasn't planned if that's where the story goes. HIMYM forced an ending that didn't fit, and that's why the audience walked away confused, uncomfortable, and grieving the death of a character who was only present for 11% of the series.

Listen, sitcoms don't have to have some deep philosophical meaning. It's comedy. Some of them, like The Office, didn't start out claiming to have some meaning, and they ended up with one anyway. And that's beautiful. You know what's not beautiful? Claiming to have meaning and then discrediting it in your finale.

Robin was Ted's past. Tracy was his future. The writers gave into temptation. They ran back to the past. And that was a mistake.

The Curtain Falls on Smash

In the course of its two season lifetime, I probably watched fewer than half a dozen episodes of NBC's Smash. This past weekend, I watched the finale anyway. 

Source: nbc.com

It wasn't hard to pick up on the major plot points. The two musicals, whose casts and production teams the show followed, had now opened on Broadway. The 2-hour finale covered the Tony nominations and awards, and it tied up the characters' stories nicely and neatly. I haven't watched enough to the show to determine if this clean ending was a good thing, but it was definitely satisfying to the casual viewer. I nodded through the conclusions thinking, "Yeah, that seems about right." Contemptible characters like Derek got just enough comeuppance, and characters with whom I tended to sympathize, like Ivy, got the respect they were due. In Ivy's case, the respect came the form of a Tony Award. And thank goodness. Even in the few episodes I watched, it was clear that Ivy was a far better actress than Karen. Whether this means Megan Hilty is a far better actress than Katharine McPhee, I'm not sure. (Although that may be true, too.)

Don't get me wrong, McPhee is incredibly talented - one of the few true talents to come out of American Idol. On Smash, she was surrounded by an all-star cast. In every episode I watched, they were performing at the top of their games. Not to mention the guest stars! So why is it then, that I never got hooked on this show? Why couldn't this well-produced, well-funded, well-acted piece of television make it past two seasons? There are, of course, many opinions. (This one pins Smash's fate mostly on the show's lousy second season ratings.) I have a few thoughts of my own:

First, while this show was originally billed to reach the matruring audience of Glee, in reality it filled an incredibly small niche. Musical theatre lovers abound, but I doubt there are enough of them so singly devoted to commit a weekly hour to a fictional commentary on the subject. Certainly not enough to raise the Neilsen ratings. Case in point: I'm a musical theatre lover and a lover of TV, and even I didn't commit a weekly hour to this show. 

And that's partly because of my second point: the drama didn't have much of one. A point, that is. If you've read other posts of mine, you know I don't run from even the soapiest of primetime dramas. But the drama on Smash seemed consistently petty. Which is fine and relatable if high schoolers are fighting for the solo on Glee. Not so fine if grown women are fighting for a professional lead and sleeping with the director to get it. That doesn't get the characters much sympathy from me. Of course, some would argue that's the reality of the professional theatre world. And I'm sure sometimes it is. But Smash didn't do the that world any favors by pointing it out. 

Finally, the music, though technically good, catchy, and well performed, felt out of place. Which should not have been the case for a show about musicals! It was as though the music didn't know what to be - internal soliloquy or a performance as a part of the shows within the show. Smash attempted to walk the line between being a TV show about musicals and being a musical TV show, but didn't get the balance quite right.

Now, all that aside, I think I can say I loved the Smash finale. So much so that all those flaws almost seem irrelevant. Indeed, Smash gave us that big finish:

Smash did leave me wanting more. Lucky for me, I probably watched fewer than half a dozen episodes of NBC's Smash. So the next time I need some drama, I know just the show.

Nashville: "I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive" Review

There were stellar performances all around on this week's drama-filled season finale of ABC's Nashville. As Hayden Panettiere's Juliette brought the house down with "Nothing in this World (Will Ever Break My Heart Again)," the hearts of the viewers were breaking.

It was Panettiere and Charles Esten who shone brightest in the season finale. Aside from the spectacular music (and edge-of-your-seat drama), what Nashville does best is create incredibly complex characters. Panettiere delivered an authentically angry, hopeless, and helpless reaction to Jolene's death, which fully revealed the internal sorrow that's been working its way through her rhinestone exterior all season. Esten's remarkable portrayal of Deacon's spiral back into alcoholism added depth to that character, but  also served to explain his history with Rayna. It made Rayna and Teddy's decision to keep the truth from him understandable. (Shout out to newcomer Lennon Stella. Maddie's realization of her true paternity was real and heart-wrenching. This young actress is going places.)

Key to these performances was the way they were set up - all season long, but particularly in this season's penultimate episode. Juliette's mother's death, Scarlet's ultimatum for Gunnar, and Maddie's discovery set the stage perfectly for the season finale "I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive." For the characters, everything is falling apart, but for the story, everything is coming together. That's what made the final five minutes of the episode outstanding. Despair, but not a single plot hole.

Though it brought me to tears more than once, I  thoroughly enjoyed this episode of Nashville. It followed a kind of finale formula - break everything apart in the final moments, leaving your audience on the edge of their seats until the fall. But the formula works, even when we can see things coming. (Put anyone in a car in the last scene of a season finale, and we know it won't end well.) In the last five minutes, we were slammed with one cliffhanger after another, not the least of which was Deacon and Rayna's deadly looking car accident. Suffice it to say, I'm thrilled that ABC has renewed Nashville for a second season. I can't wait to see what happens next. It just might break our hearts. 

Farewell, Dear Friends - The Office: "Finale"

"I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them."

Farewell, dear friends.
Source: facebook.com/theofficenbc

I don't think there has ever been, and I doubt there will ever be, a series finale quite as perfect as the one The Office gave us last night. They gave us an episode that struck that near-impossible balance between a happy ending and one that was true to life.

They gave us sweetness and discomfort. Did you cringe a little during the bachelor/bachelorette parties? When Kevin and Toby were fired? While the panel audience grilled Pam? Good. If you didn't, The Office would be doing something wrong. Just like it would be wrong if it didn't also make you cry tears of happiness when Dwight and Angela were married, when Jim and Pam sold their house, when Erin met her parents, or when Kevin handed Nellie her new baby. Quirky sweetness and awkward ridiculousness. Tears and laughter. That's The Office. It's always been The Office.

They gave us nostalgia without being cheesy. It's impossible to pick a favorite line from the finale, but Jim's reprise of the line from the pilot about selling paper - types and reams of paper - might be it. It represents how The Office came full circle but in a way that didn't make me roll my eyes. The subtle cameos of returning characters - Jake, Carol, Devon, and wasn't that the same stripper from Bob Vance's bachelor party? - were perfect. They made the die-hard fans nod and smile without hitting us over the head with it.

They gave us Michael Scott... but not too much. The producers tried very hard to keep Steve Carrell's appearance in the finale a secret, but alas, you can keep nothing from the internet.  The excuse for excluding him was that Michael Scott already said goodbye, and now it was everyone else's chance. But the finale wouldn't be right without him. So they gave us Michael Scott AND gave the rest of the cast their chance to say goodbye. Again, an impossible balance that the writers, directors, and producers of The Office somehow managed to find.

They gave both closure and a future. Without tying everything up in a neat little bow, they gave us proof that these folks are going to be just fine. After all we've seen them face the last nine years, we know they can face anything. Even saying farewell.

They gave us what we knew we always had in these characters: an extraordinary group of ordinary people. If I were to sum up the Farewell Season of The Office in one word would be authentic. Never has the show seemed so true to its characters, to its plot, to its fans. Fans who will be forever grateful to have shared this show for nine years. And now all we can say is thank you. From the bottom of our collective heart. Thank you, Lazy Scranton. (What? The electric city!) Thank you for the friendly faces around the block: Michael and Stanley, Jim, Dwight, Creed, Andy, and Kelly - the ones we went to for all our business paper needs. Thank you, Dunder Mifflin, for being the people person's paper people. Thank you.

How I Met Your Mother: "Something New" Review

If you take a look at Cristin Milioti's IMDb page, you'll find that though her resume isn't very long, it is impressive. She had a recurring role on The Sopranos, a part in the indie flick Sleepwalk With Me, and a cameo on 30 Rock that you probably remember. (She played the floozy nemesis of Liz Lemon, Abby Flynn, in the acclaimed episode "TGS Hates Women.") She also received a Tony nomination for her performance in the musical Once. Now she will add one more impressive role to that list: the title character in  How I Met Your Mother.

Source: facebook.com/HowIMetYourMotherCBS

Some of you out there in internetland are skeptical that the reveal - eight years in the making - actually happened, but CBS.com, the HIMYM Facebook page, and other sources are conclusive. Thank goodness for that. If they cried wolf one more time, I was going to give up on this show for good. 

Though the audience met the mother, Ted hasn't yet, and he spent this week's episode, "Something New," feeling pretty miserable. We learn that he's still in love with Robin (no kidding) and is preparing to leave New York to deal with those feelings. Lily's consolation was that the one for Ted is just around the corner. I'm conflicted about this. On the one hand, I reject the idea that a person can't romantically move on until they've met someone new. On the other hand, I recognize that this can be a reality for many people, and that makes Ted and Robin's story relatable.

I was disappointed that "Something New" didn't bookend this season by ending the conversation Robin and Ted began in the episode "Farhampton" as she stood in her wedding gown moments before walking down the aisle. I suppose that's where we'll pick up next season. And that's when we'll find out if Robin and Barney actually tie the knot. Now, this may be controversial, but here are two reasons why I'm hoping they don't:

1. We haven't seen the Barney who fell in love with Robin in a very long time.

The other day, I caught the end of a rerun of "Tick Tick Tick," the tenth episode of season seven. It's the one where Robin doesn't break up with Kevin, leaving a heartbroken Barney to brush rose petals off of her bed. This question, above all else, pervaded my thoughts: Where's that guy?!? The sensitive, lovesick, guy who had grown up and grown as a character. In season eight, Barney has regressed horrifically; The bachelor party episode was the nadir of this character backslide. If the Barney we've seen in the past 15 or so episodes is the Barney HIMYM's writers are giving us from now on, he needs to stay the heck away from love and marriage.

2. If Robin is single, I'll believe beyond a doubt that Ted is truly in love with someone new.
If he only moves on once she's off the market, I don't buy that it's true love. The girl with the yellow umbrella will be nothing more than the one he settles for when "the one" gets away. 

John Cochran: Caramoan's Sole Survivor

Being named Sole Survivor must be worth more than a million dollars to John Cochran. It was a win thirteen years in the making for the nerdiest, smartest, and cutest Survivor superfan of all time.

Source: rickey.org

I've never been so happy about a Survivor winner. I'd been pulling for Cochran from the start. By the end, it was clear he was the only one who deserved to win.

OUTWIT: John Cochran was always in control. He said it best: He was calm without being complacent and vigilant without being paranoid. He chalked it up to timing, but it was so much more. He's the most intelligent castaway ever to play Survivor.

OUTPLAY: He was the challenge monster he claimed to be. Even if he did need the advantages to win the immunity challenges, he earned them by being smart enough to buy the one and skilled enough to win the other. 

OUTLAST: Not only did he make it to the jury's cross-examination, he made it through the jury's cross-examination, which is the bigger accomplishment. Not to mention that every one of his answers was perfect.

To top it all off, I'm certain that Cochran said things in his testimonials solely for the benefit of the cameras. He summarized the plot articulately, concocted snide (yet witty and endearing) insults, and spoke ambiguously enough about strategy that his comments were ready-made for teaser previews. He doesn't just understand the game from a castaway's point of view, he understands it from the producers' point of view.

The Challenges
I was thrilled with the finale's challenges. The reward challenge was a reprise of one of my favorites. Remember this moment from South Pacific?



Watching that challenge again reminds me how happy I was for Sophie. She's now a close second to Cochran in my list of favorite Survivor winners.

The final immunity challenge was a great combination of challenge elements. Sure, it was mostly a puzzle challenge, but puzzle challenges are my favorite. I think they prove that even the "outplay" pillar of the game is about more than just brawn.

The Jury Speaks
I can't not address the Dawn and Brenda squabble. You know I feel that this is a game, and should be treated as such. Dawn made a smart move and has no reason to regret any of her game. As for Brenda's tribal "question," that was low. Low and unnecessary. It stemmed from somewhere bitter and that's not cool, but it's also not uncommon. Being a bitter juror is easy. I have more respect for the gracious jurors - like Andrea.

If anyone had a right to be bitter, it was Erik, not Brenda. Poor Erik. He doesn't know how to leave Survivor the usual way! Boy, did Erik show his bitter side to Sherri. That was a fight I wasn't expecting. Sherri got the short straw in this finale, and I don't think that's fair. Maybe she didn't articulate it well, but Sherri did play a strategic game. While there was still an alliance of fans, she was in control of it. Had he not been medevac'd, she doubtless would have been in control of Shamar. And unlike any of the other fans, she was able to infiltrate the favorites alliance. Did she play a game worth a million dollars? No. But she played a game worth a few more questions, both from the jury and at the live after show.

There is one thing I'm still curious about. Was this a unanimous jury vote? Sure seems that way. No one cast a single vote for Cochran all season, until they all voted for him in the end. There's your fairy tale.

This was an unbelievable season of Survivor. In spite of the tough times, it was one of my favorites to watch, and seeing Cochran win was the icing on the cake. Just for Cochran, let's imagine that as vanilla and peanut butter icing. Congratulations, John Cochran. You deserved it.

Community: "Advanced Introduction to Finality" Review

All throughout the fourth season, I've been conflicted about Community. It's a show that began slowly, gained momentum in season two, and sailed through its third season with conviction and purpose. After creator Dan Harmon left, fans were a little concerned about where season four would take the Greendale study group. And now, after watching the season finale, I can definitively answer: I don't know. I have no idea where the study group stands (sits?).

This season has been strange because, while on the surface it seemed so authentically Community, something was off. Some fans might want to blame it on Harmon's departure. I'm not sure that's it. It might just be that Community hit its sophomore slump in its senior year. The finale, "Advanced Introduction to Finality," should have felt right. After all, it had paintball. But it also had too much of two things: commentary and sentimentality.

Lines from the episode will help me explain:

Abed: "You could go back and pretend that you're the same guy you were four years ago, but you're not. You're stronger. You're better. You have friends! No, screw that, you have a family."  

 Jeff: "Wait, if this is all in my mind, then I don't really need to fight him."

Abed: "Don't logic this one away from me. We finally figured out a way to make paintball cool again."

This episode was essentially a dream sequence of Jeff's inner conflict, so the whole story was a commentary. But what made it even worse were the moments like the one above, where the writers felt the need to spell it out for us. Good TV shows show us, not tell us, a character's growth and motivation. And the best TV shows never have to tell us that they're cool.

Jeff: "As long as you guys are with me, I have everything I need to graduate."

Really? This is not Jeff. Yes, Jeff gives the big, end-of-episode speeches, but not speeches like this. Character development (if that's indeed what we're supposed to be seeing in Jeff this season) is great, but this is character betrayal. Who is this guy? Where's the sardonic, cynical Jeff we all used to love to hate and hated that we loved? Even a Jeff who'd grown up wouldn't (essentially) just quote Britta in his closing monologue.

Sentimental Jeff.
Source: facebook.com/nbccommunity

Season four just didn't ever quite get it right. It discarded its one good plot setup (Changnesia) in favor of a poor rehash of season three's "darkest timeline." Well, Community has been renewed for a fifth season. I might watch it. I might not. I'm still conflicted.