How I Met Your Mother & The Class – reviews.
I know, I know. You’re already waggling your finger, saying, ‘John, HIMYM debuted last season! It’s hardly a new show.’
Well, true. Sort of.
As the latest in a long line of wretched, ham-handed, dumbed-down, inane, insipid, and insulting CBS comedies (Two and a Half Men, The King of Queens, Still Standing, Yes Dear, Everybody Loves Raymond and on and on and on, all the way back to Evening Shade and Murphy Brown) ,somehow HIMYM piqued my interest. First, the tongue-in-cheek inclusions of Bob Saget and Neil Patrick Harris desperately trying to shed their former safe character types made me think there might actually be some bite to this show.
Originally there was – witness Ted‘s night with Danica McKellar and the penguin, or even Barney‘s attempt to provide a “legendary!” guys night out partying. How I Met Your Mother often drifted into cutesy, chick-flick territory, but still managed to cram in some wistful benders, cheap and tacky sex jokes, and obnoxious buddy comedy into its half-hour (The “Legendary!” party ep has obvious resonance with the stupid corporate culture in which Mister Faded Glory lurks). It had some flat episodes, but some still with promise. However, at the end of the season, the show:
1. Paired up its two starcrossed and frustrated principles. This is a no-no. If you’re going to pair folks up, it either needs to (a) occur like in Newsradio, at the immediate outset and become and obstacle, (b) occur as in Scrubs or Cheers, a horrific train-wreck each time, (c) provoke discomfort, such as the U.S. Office, or (d) end the actual series, like the U.K. Office. At least there’s somewhat of a payoff. When writers pour every ounce of energy into making the principles likeable — there’s nowhere to go once they reach their penultimate realization. Ask Northern Exposure how the pair-off of Joel and Maggie worked out. And in this season of HIMYM, Ted and Robin are as dull as dry toast.
2. Broke up its two struggling-with-coupledom friends. The show even moved one across country. It actually had hit on something — a struggling couple, one in the abyss of law school and the other unsure about their impending marriage – but now, that’s totally gone. Instead, in season two the guy from Freaks and Geeks and Alyson Hannigan are the will-they-or-won’t-they couple.
3. No growth from its resident lecherous character, Barney. The reason these horndog, condescending, selfish, and egotistical fellows work in sitcoms past and present is because enough layers are continually revealed in the jerk to make him interesting, enjoyable, and likeable – think Ted Danson, John Larroquette, Phil Hartman, John C. McGinley, Wayne Knight, Ricky Gervais/Steve Carell.
Neil Patrick just ain’t in their league, and he also doesn’t have the panache to steal his scenes. His Barney is annoying and petty, and going no further.
So somewhat predictably, yet somehow unprecedented in its rapidity (even Friends took three years before morphing into a melodrama), HIMYM has devolved into a sappy faux-serial, content to make occasional lame jokes while attempting to tug at heartstrings through convoluted and neverending romantic story arcs. Too bad. It’s as if the script for season one was written and fleshed out, filmed totally before CBS’ renewal. If that was the case, it should have just died at the end of season one.
At its best, HIMYM was a slice of the somewhat watchable comedy along the lines of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pizza Place (Ha! Remember that show? It had a good concept, albeit poorly executed.). At its worst, it’s a shadow of even NBC’s Coupling or Good Morning Miami.
It’s corny, it’s overplayed, it’s pretty much awful. But, like everything else on CBS, it’s a freaking hit. Unbelieveable.
As for its follow-up – The Class – well, blink and you’ll miss this one.
For whatever reason — uh, see above — I typically give all these Friends knock-off sitcoms a chance, even though I profess to abhor the original Friends with every fiber of my being. (Remember Committed?)
The Class had big ideas — find ten struggling 29-year-olds and reshape their lives together, but it’s another flat exercise. Nothing is really new here – even during the pilot characters were paired off into will-they-won’t-they camps, echoing Melrose Place more than even its cousin sitcom Friends.
The characters are about as thin as the monitor this appears on, and the premise even more flimsy. Nobody is this connected with their third-grade classmates. It would be one thing if the show was a tongue-in-cheek look at a high school class which can’t get out of its hometown — but instead, it’s simply an excuse to shoehorn lame CBS comedy into a similar setting. The initial idea – 10 classmates attempting to find their way out of the pitfalls of twentysomethings is simply too ambitious for a 22-minute situation comedy to pull off. There’s an idea here, but instead of seeming original, it seems another wholly manufactured half hour.
And people say the sitcom is dead.
I’ve always tended to disagree with that premise – I still laugh at reruns of Cheers and Seinfeld, and I find it impossible that the sitcom peaked with either of the two. Moreover, folks still watch sitcoms — though it’s a little unsettling that CBS is the network that proves the sitcom is alive and well. Apparently everyone and their mother and their class is out in droves watching drecks of half-hour comedies on CBS. Come to think of it, maybe that premise is correct – and maybe CBS is the exception that proves the rule.
