TV #21 of 2021:

Community, season 2

A big step up from an already-great first year, albeit not quite the flawless season I thought I remembered and wish it could be. The characters and serialized plotlines are each more complex, and Pierce’s turn as an overt villain in particular is a superb escalation which feeds the story well. Most critically, the series has definitely come into its own in its ability to leave ordinary(-ish) reality behind and seamlessly slip into a different genre for the night, all without losing its core essence. From space disaster to spaghetti western to stop-motion holiday special to zombie attack and many others, I suspect if I were to pick my top overall Community episodes, plenty would be drawn from this sophomore run.

These homages work because the writers so clearly understand the rhythms of what they’re imitating, and because they’ve figured out how to gently nudge the cast dynamics into place so that everyone stays recognizable while performing in an unfamiliar key. It’s a hard act to pull off at all, let alone to repeat again and again and keep up the hilarious comedy throughout. Those jokes are aimed at an audience who appreciates playing with the very structures of storytelling, and although I’ve heard people complain that the effect is too cerebral, such meta- elements — like a self-referential bottle episode or a clip show using entirely new footage of previously off-screen adventures — are perfectly pitched for me.

(And it’s not as though that’s the only source of humor at Greendale, either. Some installments don’t go the full-on heightened parody approach to begin with, and even the ones that do find all kinds of ways to make us laugh that are richly rooted in the characterizations and interpersonal histories which have built up over time. I can see why casual viewers occasionally catching this sitcom on NBC might not be enthused, but it’s phenomenal to watch in order, hour by hour.)

On the downside: we’re still going too often to rape, suicide, and various bigotries like racism and antisemitism for easy amusement, and while the idea is generally that it would be outrageous for somebody to say those things, that execution does rely on somebody, you know, saying them. This results in storylines where Troy pretends that his uncle molested him to get attention in class, and even if we can’t agree that that type of premise should be categorically off-limits, this specific title, for all its better qualities, is not remotely equipped to do it justice. I’m much less comfortable with this aspect of the program in 2021 than I was a decade ago, especially when combined with recent reports of showrunner Dan Harmon’s abusive behavior on set.

Ben Chang is also sort of bizarrely situated this year (and moving forward); although it’s nice how there are fewer punchlines now at the expense of his ethnicity, his role as a bumbling chaos agent is a rather dramatic departure from his early disciplinarian, and it never quite clicks as believable. As written he’s easily my least-favorite recurring element on the show, and the scripts rarely extend him the kind of sympathy that the main protagonists receive almost automatically. Instead he pops up as random punctuation on a scene, then tends to scurry off somewhere just as fast. It seldom sinks the mood altogether, but it’s a weakness all the same.

In writing this review, I’ve gone back and forth about my star rating for the season, and whether I feel its flaws are significant enough to withhold a five. Ultimately I think they are, or at least, I think I’ve outgrown my 2011 self who loved it through and through. I do still really enjoy this stretch of Community, but I guess no longer unreservedly.

★★★★☆

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