Study Group in Session!

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Cool. Cool cool cool.

Previously I have taken critical looks at Jeff and Britta. When I think of Community, these two characters come to mind first, and in the pilot, these are the two characters that the audience encounters first. Linking Jeff and Britta with Community is akin to linking pancakes and syrup.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, it’s an Abed special.

But how often does butter chase the thought of pancakes? Rarely, yet it is still an essential ingredient. Not that I think Abed is butter in this analogy, but he is a character that I am quickly becoming to associate with Community over Jeff or Britta. In a sense, Abed has snuck up on me, and it is rather unexpected. From season one, I wasn’t overly impressed or captured by his character, and I am unashamed to admit I was caught up cheering in the Jeff v. Britta war.

However, this season, Abed has seemed to take center stage, even if it’s up center. Whether it was the documentary episode or this most recent, Abed has played key roles in more episodes this season than I ever remember him having in previous seasons. I’d like to think that I didn’t just miss his part – and traditionally, he has been more of a background character. Season three, he played a crucial role in students’ lives who were never directly addressed. That little escapade began the night of the STD awareness dance and ended when he played midwife in a birth. Not that I don’t take Abed’s character as seriously, but he has been handled by the writers as this quieter, less involved game piece.

Destining Abed to this quieter fate was a purposeful decision on the part of the writers – but why?

In Britta’s psychotherapy episode, Abed tests as the only “normal” character. While this successfully strips the Study Group of their high and mighty self-esteems, in the broader picture Abed is deemed more important. In fact, behind Jeff and Britta, Abed is the next character the audience interacts with. Again, forever hovering in the background yet just as crucial.

The Study Group constantly berates Abed for his eccentric world view, filtering everything through TV and pop culture references. In the Abed Christmas special, the Study Group gets transformed into various misfit toys because that’s how Abed chooses to cope with his letter from his mom. Most of his lines center around this quirk, and in a sense, Abed is bringing the world of TV to life through his references. He watched a lot of TV as a child, and now he watches the world – as if it is merely a continuation of TV into the real world. Yet of all the characters, he is the most mentally sound. Perhaps Abed plays into the delusions and silly goals of those around him through these references because he recognizes how scripted, yet nonsensical they are. He fills the role that he sees fit through various TV personas to better serve as that background filler.

Abed’s character has changed in the fourth season, much like everything else,  but instead of his quirks getting quirkier, he is slowly inching down center stage. If Abed is the true center of Community, then wrapping up the senior year with Abed growing into himself would be perfectly fitting.

All Mad Here

 

With a mix of shame and gratitude, I approach this post due to inspiration from a peer’s Community blog. In this particular post, she analyzes an episode from the third season in which the Study Group goes to therapy with Abed and is almost convinced that they are all in Greendale Asylum. Her review made me realize that this episode is not only crucial to rescuing the Dean from Chang but also rather obviously points up that most of the conflict within the group stems from their inability to see eye to eye.

While conflict and resolution make up the core of storytelling, Dan Harmon approached Community with such a skillful mind that made Community not just a couple story lines interacting with each other for twenty-something minutes. If anything, Community is constantly criticizing itself, a concept so simple that the show recalls to mind children’s cartoons. If the Study Group was truly as close friends as they perceive one another to be, they would never second guess Abed if he believes the Dean to be kidnapped.

Chang Crazy

From the start, not a single member saw eye to eye, and they never wanted or tried to. More than anything, they were all flung into a social group (and force!) together. Not unlike reality. Due to their stubborn perseverance, they stick it out as a group, and after a while, there is no one else. But that doesn’t automatically lead to group members’ agreements.

True cooperation and collaboration are only required when whatever conflict bigger than they are presents itself. For that, the members of the Study Group are redeemed in their flaws because in the end, they can put themselves aside. This is also eerily like real life. It is most often that greater issues are the uniting factors among differing people, and Dan Harmon perfectly captured this complex and unpredictable process in Community.

Thus, I arrive at the core of this post: why season 4 just can’t be the same. Guarascio and Port are obviously experienced writers. But they don’t see eye to eye with Harmon, and not only do they not want to but they also don’t need to. Community is evolving from its meta state, despite whatever its devout followers believe – and perhaps, if I may be so bold to play with your mind, this is Community’s swan song: the followers (like those in the Study Group) are diverse in all aspects sociologically, but when presented with this greater issue (Harmon’s absence, Community’s changes), the followers are moved to unite (outside of the world of television, in which we all live – like Abed – every Thursday night) and cooperate to make something bigger than a broken system.

Yes, I just went there.

A Study in Perserverance

According to tvbythenumbers.com and collider.com, Community’s episode last week was not a hit. Not that Community normally rates exceptionally high – it has a lower viewership than a lot of the other big shows of the same 8:00 PM time slot. Every Thursday, Community battles against The Big Bang Theory, American Idol, and the Vampire Diaries. In numbers, Community is closest to the show Vampire Diaries, which I suppose signifies that the two both target a specific niche, whereas Big Bang and Idol have over five times as many viewers.

It’s curious, then, that Community succeeds at all.

However, what makes a show successful is subjective. Is it the producers, the writers, the actors? A great concept, intriguing story line, perfect time slot, or the network? Or is it the “wild card“? But CNN insists that what really makes a show stick is its ability to take a well-established genre and add a zesty twist. And Community’s zesty twist is that it never lacks its twisted zest.

So, it really is that simple: people like Community because it is a strange show that exists to be strange.

But it is a niche show, and as such, the Nielsen ratings, in my opinion, don’t do justice to the exquisite tastes of the Community fanbase. The Nielsen ratings rely on how many people out of the entire social group aged 18-49 watch a show, and a niche show, which purposefully neglects to target people en mass, should be expected to score lowly. Because of Community’s wild card, their acclaimed quirkiness, Community fears its demise.

Once again, Community places the meta card on the table: Greendale Community College is constantly a hot mess struggling to prove itself as a school. Greendale prides itself on accepting any and all human beings while offering everything under the sun. The list of class offerings comprises of one ridiculous course after another, and most are unbelievable. In short, Greendale succeeds because of its strangeness, even though that same strangeness is what threatens its existence.

So, the key to Community’s success is simple: never stop doing that thing that will probably force it to cease. Ironic. No wonder Community has a niche fanbase.

Structured

The Study Group consists of the infamous seven characters, but the telling of Community wouldn’t be complete without the Dean or Chang – which sums the main cast at nine. Unfortunately, from episode to episode, not every character maintains their lead/lesser degree, though there is a general scale that they ladder themselves against. Jeff Winger is obviously at the top, most commonly the lead character, and since the beginning of the fourth season, Pierce has been hanging at the bottom of lesser characters.

Lesser Dean-ing

The Dean is a constant lesser character with more involvement than Pierce but not always as much as Britta through Abed, and until very recently, Chang wasn’t even in the running. However, since his return, Chang is rising the character list – as much as he seems to be edging toward another sinister plot – further displacing Pierce down the rungs. (Guarascio and Port really aren’t hiding the fact that Chevy Chase wants out.)

Among Britta, Troy, Annie, Shirley, and Abed, Britta and Abed seem to take the lead more than the others, and Shirley appears to be grouped more with Pierce as a lesser character. However, these are not always constant and vary greatly between episodes.

Inter-chang-able Lessers

The common plot structure, in my opinion, follows this: Jeff sees something he wants and starts for it; by the end of the first third, he is well on his way to succeed; by the end of the second, however, everything has begun to go to Hell in a hand basket, but still Jeff pushes on; and by the final third, Jeff has relented in his pursuit, changed in his ways, normally finishing with an inspirational speech. Then, each episode ends with either a quirky (particularly Troy and Abed) moment or a foreshadowing teaser. (In the episodes that Jeff is not the main focus, the plot still tends to follow this curve, a moment of catharsis wrapping everything up.)

On the whole, each episode stands apart, the conflict resolved by the end, but occasionally, the story line will stretch between two episodes. What’s more frequent is revisiting a story line or way of storytelling in episodes that are not consecutive, even across seasons. For instance, there are several stories told in documentary styles, emphasizing Abed’s love of filmmaking – like the most recent episode “Advanced Documentary Filmmaking.”

Socially Acceptable

Community Online

 

 

NBC’s Community is online – no, scratch that. It’s not just online; it’s connected. Community’s site lets you keep up with new episodes, exclusive interviews and other footage, and it crosses social media boundaries with options ranging from Facebook to Google+. The site is for hardcore fans, kinda devout followers, and complete newbs. The “About” page explains the concept behind Dan Harmon’s cult creation and introduces each member of the cast, with the rest of the important people from executive producer to bottom.

But of course, in Community’s meta way, Greendale Community College also has a website. You can read about the college, the various facilities and amenities they offer, some of the classes you can take, the campus newspaper, and lists the key administration, faculty, and students…meaning our Study Group, Chang, and the Dean. This website is another look inside the brilliant world of Community.

Greendale

 

But I do believe my favorite part about this website is the blatant sense of humor. For instance, if you click around the webpage (read: if you’re interested in applying), you’ll find this page:

NBC Community - Greendale Community College - Watch Episodes Online for Free - NBC Official Site (1)

Yep. You read that correctly. You are already accepted to Greendale Community College. While this website doesn’t link you to other social media, it does get you more in tune with the feel of the show and its objective: comedy out of a community college.

But the fans aren’t just interacting with Community-run sites. They’re running some.

Community Things.

 

This one to be exact.

Here you can find links to interviews and other fanblogs. You can also watch blooper videos and news. For a fan, this is heaven. But this Tumblr particularly provides a network for fans, by fans – a network hat involves reblogging, submissions, discussions, and shipping.

Then, there are the usual, boring choices: twitter and facebook.

So does Community successfully use the internet? I’d say so…especially with that “You’re already accepted” line on the Admissions page.

Hypo-Britta-cal

This is Britta Perry. Way back in season one, Britta’s role focused on being a leader, a mother, a fighter, and since then, she’s deteriorated into a more delusional, more nonsensical overgrown child.

Greendale is a community college, a school for any and all human beings, and generally as students progress through their studies, choose their major, and get involved, they mature and learn, both about themselves as well as life. However, Britta seems to have a case of the Backwards. She’s roughly thirty something. She’s been an anarchist, in the Peace Corps, traveled to 13 different countries, and experienced life in a way most college students (whose ages usually range from late teens through mid-twenties) haven’t yet had a chance to. If she’s so cultured, so learned, obviously capable of being on her own, why reverse tracks and head to school?

Britta claims that she decided to wake up and do something with her life, so she pursues a degree from Greendale, where she joins a study group, ends up in paintball fights, in Jeff’s…and Vaughn’s…and now Troy’s arms, and studies Psychology. She’s even seen her name become slang for messing things up.

Clearly, college hasn’t been good to Britta. She accomplished more out there in the world and became more of a real person than here at the home of the Human Beings, and as she regresses into her childhood, sounding more unintelligible and less real, Britta is approaching a static flat line.

This contradiction that is Britta Perry isn’t entirely her fault. In fact, the writers have shaped her more than anything else, forcing her from one extreme to the other, pointing up her hypocritical nature in a meta way. Not only have the writers (including Harmon) Britta’d Britta, but Britta is Britta-ing Britta.

While her relationship with Troy is probably the first positive, constructive thing we’ve witnessed her do that is rational and logical, yet also based one hundred percent on living in a childlike world (Troy is very naive, and Britta definitely isn’t) – Britta isn’t really going anywhere. She attempts to provide therapy for Abed, whom she already feels very maternal toward anyway, but on the whole, she isn’t very successful at being a psychologist, especially as she shoves Freud down Jeff’s throat (lol). In fact, if anything, Britta is taking Abed’s place as childish as he seems to be maturing, replacing him next to Troy.

However, regressing into naivety isn’t necessarily a bad thing as it obviously is bringing positive things into her life…like a healthy, carefree relationship. It merely only stresses the contradiction that I’d like to think the writers of Community have built into Britta Perry. Hopefully as this season continues, Britta will finally find some true direction in her life, which, I suppose, is truly the point of growing up.

Acting the Part

Bad Boy Jeff

Jeff Winger is a jerk. He’s selfish, egotistical, and doesn’t believe in doing things.

But everyone loves him anyway.

Guarascio and Port have revealed that in season 4 Jeff is going to meet his real father finally and along with the premier last Thursday, with the “new” Jeff, it appears that Jeffrey Winger isn’t just anxious to graduate and leave Greendale; Jeff Winger is, indeed, a human being with feelings.

See what I did there?

Underneath Jeff’s snobby, fashion-concerned lawyer persona, past the hardcore, bad boy act, and beneath the flaunted sexual prowess – Jeff isn’t such a bad guy. In fact, if it weren’t for this guy, the Study Group wouldn’t exist; Community wouldn’t exist! So, at the end of the day, we at least owe him that thanks.

Jeff bonds (in his own way, of course) individually and intimately with each character. He forms close ties with the rest of the Study Group, and even with Chang and the Dean, whether he realizes it or not. When he was determined to win everyone a spot in History of Ice Cream, it wasn’t just because he wants to graduate. Without the Study Group, he has very little meaning. No quipping with Britta, no being mothered by Shirley, no parenting Troy, Abed, nor Annie (though maybe less parenting with Annie and more subconscious flirting), and no fearing Pierce – because ultimately, Jeff sees Pierce a possibility for his future self.

See? Pierce is totally shadowing Jeff.

Each of the characters grounds Jeff in a different way, including Chang and the Dean. Even though Jeff adamantly doesn’t believe in doing things, both Crazy Chang and the Dean propel Jeff into fighting for the things he does  believe in: the Study Group. Jeff is highly protective, particularly of Abed, and when Chang (like when he became a dictator and took over Greendale) and the Dean (like with his Hunger Deans) not only stand between Jeff and his goal but also in some form attack the Study Group (because the entire group suffers even if it’s just one character specifically targeted), Jeff does put aside his goal long enough to defend his turf.

Though, he always comes back to himself. Despite blaming it on his overly doting mother and never existent father, Jeff is just shielding his inner, still immature child-self. Which naturally he denies doesn’t exist.

So, as long as anyone is (or possibly is) looking, Jeff is a jerk, and probably when he’s really looking, too. But there’s no escaping that his jerk-ness is more a tool to help him achieve his goals (and ignore others), an act.

History 101

I know I skipped blogging yesterday – but I promise it was for a very good reason: Tonight was the premiere of season 4 on NBC!

Although I’m still a little wary, I definitely wasn’t disappointed. Things were a bit…awkward. I felt a little left out of the loop at first, with so many apparent developments having occurred since the end of the third season (*SPOILERS* & *MORE SPOILERS*). But, as usual, the gang was up to shenanigans and the Dean was effervescently inter-dean-ing with his brilliant solution to the overbooked class of History of Ice Cream: the Hunger Deans.

Jeff  (it’s no surprise that he’s been taking summer courses) seems new and improved, determined to win enough places in the history class for our Study Group, and he competes in the Hunger Deans while Pierce and Abed look on. It’s also no secret that Chevy Chase really wants his own age to reflect in Pierce’s changed character, and the season premiere gives us several hints of just that, perhaps foreshadowing an early end? Beside Pierce sits Abed, who in very Abed-like fashion is having trouble adjusting to the various changes, including the fact that this is their senior year.

(But of course, on the meta level, Abed is our bridge between the show and reality (which, if we go one level deeper, harkens us back to the psychology test that determined Abed the most sane, and in a sense, the most real): this is the first episode to air with only the line “Created by: Dan Harmon” as the reminder that this is actually a new – and most likely final – season of Community. Abed’s mental break downs and coping is a friendly, yet apologetic, plea on Guarascio’s and Port’s behalf to accept the changes on both the creative and administrative sides. Additionally, when Abed withdraws into his “happy place”, which in true Abed form requires laugh tracks, in his mind, Pierce isn’t played by Chevy Chase, yet again another shout-out to Chase’s desire to leave the show.)

Also true to the hints in the various interviews, this season is exploring more the interpersonal relationships, particularly between Britta and Troy…Maybe it’s just the deranged fan in me that wants to say there’s more to the relationship between the Dean and Jeff, too? (Oh, the sensual teasing of the tango!) Err…the spoiler that got away…

Anyway, so beyond the hipster glasses galore, which Donald Glover often sports outside of his role as Troy (as well as half the “cool”/”hipster” population of those fashion-aware these days), by the end of the episode, Abed is imbued with the calming realization that:

Change is always scary, but Abed brought the group together, which changed all of our lives. And we’ve changed each other. Things are going to keep changing, but we’ll keep being friends…Even if we go somewhere, we’re not going anywhere.

~Jeff Winger (More or less what he said as I was furiously typing…)

Meanwhile, a seemingly naked Chang has crawled out of whatever misguided hole he fell into at the end of last season, and he’s claiming Changnesia…And also that his name is Kevin (As in his real name) – dangit! There goes another spoiler, my bad. So, it’s nice and dandy and everything that our Study Group is all happy ponies and rainbows again, but what in the world do Guarascio and Port (and the rest of the cast) have in store for Chang? Has he truly been re-Chang-ed?

(Which on a reflective side note has me pausing to think that all in all the premiere must have gone well…I’m certainly itching for more!)

Look out for the premiere here!

(Oh, and should you want to know the spoilers, just hover your mouse over the links….)

Since I’m a college student, I do that thing where I take college classes and write college papers – and occasionally, write college blogs – and it was about a year and a half ago that I was zoned into a world of Sociology, thunderously typing out a paper, when my friend who had first introduced me to Community yanked me out with world-rattling news: Community was being suspended, in the middle of its third season.

all hail the internet

Now, I am a fan of the internet, and the wide variety that the internet offers is probably how I can get up in the morning and why I can’t fall asleep at night. Sooo, naturally, as soon as my friend told me about the hiatus, I went searching, found a couple news article, and the Save Community petition, which I signed like a dutiful and devoted fan – oh, and of course, shared on Facebook, because yay social media!

It was like Easter, my birthday, and Christmas all at once when I found out Community was renewed for a fourth season, and I knew that its fanbase and devoted interneters (I was so proud to call myself one!) were responsible for keeping Community around. No one, not even NBC nor Sony, can deny this, and so the show and its cult-following lives on.

But war wasn’t over. Community’s creator Dan Harmon wasn’t coming back to the show, and whoop! There went everything into a tizzy again.

Cosplay: Playing Dress Up as an Adult

Being a Community fan isn’t just shipping characters, cosplaying, following twitters or tumblrs, or having marathons and themed parties. It’s not just about being enamored with the show’s brilliance, assholery, and oddly deep comedy, characteristics rooted in Harmon as well – no, being a Community fan means you strive toward a larger goal: you fight alongside Troy and Abed in their battle of blanket forts and pillow towns AND alongside (and sometimes with) other fans AND against the Big Guys, aka NBC and Sony. Not every show is meant for everyone to watch, and not every show should be loved by all. I mean, I know we’re in the age of equality, but geez…not every show is created equally.

So, yeah, Dan Harmon is off the show, and he owns up to the fact that it’s because he’s an asshole. So between Harmon and NBC/Sony both refusing to budge about their ideas, naturally, they brought in new writers: Moses Port and David Guarascio.

Dashing New Writers: Guarascio and Port (on set!)

Again, being the internet addict that I am, I did some poking around. Both writers have been showrunners before, so they aren’t new to the job, which is some sort of comforting. Also, they aren’t trying to pick a side and be Harmon-esque or NBC/Sony drones, which is even more comforting.

>>Ridiculously extensive interview that was actually really insightful and placating<<

However! Neither of these guys has had shows as successful as Community, and basically all the other writers have dipped out…Port and Guarascio, as enthusiastic and open-minded as they are, just won’t make the fourth season of Community what it probably deserves to be. Granted, they have a lot of things working against them, and while they report working closely with the cast and consulting with other writers to ensure that characters more or less stay the same, it’s just impossible.

Which is why when I read that they basically structured this season to be the last (which I mean, come on, time-wise, makes perfect sense because they’re in college…and the whole six seasons and a movie idea has always been really lame to me anyway, *end rant*) I was still upset. Who were they to decide the end of this show? We just got it back on air!

Guarascio, Port, McHale (Jeff Wringer), and Random Guy on Left at Comic Con

Regardless of Community’s possible end, I kinda have this theory about TV shows:

First season, usually pretty good because it’s the intro. Everybody’s really drawn in, and the writers are at the top of their game because they’re enthusiastic and it’s a brand new show, so look at all the possibilities! Then, season two sinks in, and it’s the sophomore album, the butt of the career. Things are meh. Sure, there are changes. (For the record, Guarascio and Port talk a lot about change in interviews – how it’s really the only way to cope and it’s natural.) Change is inevitable, but season two is usually on the Really? This is the best you’ve got? spectrum. The writers dick around a bit, and then, wham! Season three. Now, season threes are usually outstanding. Look at House, look at X Files, look at Danny Phantom, even Mad Men – you now know what I like to watch, also. The third seasons of each of these are like, whoa! Where’d all this come from? It’s awesome!

And then. Season four. If a show makes it that far, season fours are usually back down. Still better than season two because the writers know themselves and their characters and worlds better, but not as good as the third season.

>>Nowhere near as extensive but still pretty informative interview<<

I think the biggest saving grace of Community’s fourth season will be the fact that its cast is the same. They know their characters, and they know how they work in various situations. While writers Port and Guarascio claim that they are aiming to focus more on interpersonal relationships, which was obviously a focus before but now will probably be a little more drama-y (blech), I highly doubt they can keep Community as meta as it was before. (And in case you don’t know what meta means.)

So, even though the red blood of angry fans boils hotter after each blow dealt by NBC and Sony, a new world is about to dawn – a world that can’t be like the one of the ages past. Although there is still a week and one day until the season premiere, the black night is about to end, and Community will burst onto the broadcast waves, a gasp of breathless delight in each of us. Even if it is the final season of Community – at least it’s our season. For us, and in many ways, by us. (I can’t not do this…)

SIDE NOTE: Ugh, sorry this post is so long…I wanted it to be about the writing of the show, and instead it just kinda became about the writers of the show…So…yeah, Writer Problems: pieces writing themselves without your consent. For your diligence and patience, I reward you with this: smashing new hit from Lonely Island. You’re welcome.

Six Seasons and a Movie? Huh?

So, in case it isn’t obvious, this is a blog about Community, and while I shake my head at you if you say you haven’t heard of it, I suppose that’s an acceptable excuse for not watching NBC’s trouble child. But I really don’t believe you if you say you missed its hiatus, the plank NBC forced Community to walk halfway through its third season, the move that sparked an online petition and attracted viewership. (The petition is still chilling on the internet, too.)

And if the hiatus/petition upheaval didn’t steal you away, when NBC delayed the beginning of season four and took Dan Harmon (the creator) off the show, and you still weren’t sold, then…oh, boy, challenge accepted.

So, in my own words, Community is a tv show centered around a group of students at a community college in Colorado that forms a study group for their intro Spanish class. The group is a bit motley, a kind of volatile mixture of highly unlikely-friends. There’s Jeff (Joel McHale), the used-to-be lawyer who got caught practicing with a no-good degree. Britta (Gillian Jacobs), the sorta-hippy drop-out. Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown), the middle-aged mama. Annie (Alison Brie), the actual college-aged student who was a prescription drug-user in high school and is now really straight-edged. Troy (Donald Glover), the star of his (and Annie’s) high school football team but now just another face. Abed (Danny Pudi), the quirky, smart pop-culture-savvy student with aspergers. Aaaaaaand, last but not least, Pierce (Chevy Chase), the businessman who’s back at school.

(tl;dr) Obviously, that is a very long paragraph, so if you wanna read what NBC and Community have to say for themselves, here you go.

Hopefully, somewhere between all those informative links and my own babbling, you are now on board for watching Community and following along as I critique the fourth season of Community (the premier which airs February 7, at 8/7 Central)- and if not? Well…I have the rest of my blog to go.