Arrested Development
Arrested Development didn’t just change the way I look at television — it changed the way I look at comedy. It’s so incredibly well-crafted and dense that I’m actually intimidated by the prospect of ever writing something that approaches this level of quality and complexity.
It subscribes to that Simpsons sensibility: chuck in every kind of joke you can (highbrow, lowbrow, pop culture references) at a dizzying pace and trust the audience to keep up with it. But it takes that approach (which has gained considerable popularity in the last decade or so) to the next level by setting up elaborate continuity jokes and recurring themes. This is a show that begs to be seen on DVD.
Here’s an example: halfway through season two, Buster ditches his Army training and spends the day trying to retrieve a toy seal from one of those arcade claw machines. About half a dozen episodes later, Buster loses his hand, which is replaced with a claw, to a loose seal. The incident traumatizes him, much in the way his overbearing mother — Lucille — has for his entire life. If that setup/payoff does not simply make your head burst into flames, you’re not paying enough attention.
Lines of dialogue and situations that repeat throughout the series are perfectly timed. They don’t overuse the device, but they don’t let you forget about the various running gags either. Somehow they manage to wait just the right amount of time between recurrences to make them funnier each time.
The format — a pseudo-documentary with running narration — which you’d think would get tiresome and insult your intelligence, never does. And Ron Howard’s voiceovers add the perfect subtle push over the top to any jokes that might not quite make it on their own.
Somehow, Arrested Development manages to make tired sitcom ideas — a couple with a gay husband in denial, a drunk and bitter mother, a 30ish mama’s boy — work in entirely new ways. And somehow they made a slew of forgotten stars of the 70s and 80s — Henry Winkler, Scott Baio, Jason Bateman, Judge Reinhold, Carl Weathers, Liza Minelli and many more — funny and relevant again. And hopefully it made a few new stars out of the its showbiz virgins. Michael Cera, the kid who plays hapless cousin-luster George Michael Bluth, deserves a lifetime of juicy roles based solely on his performance in season 2’s “Good Grief.”
Just throw this on the very long list of shows that have been undeservingly canceled by Fox. But then again, as I said before, this show can only be truly appreciated on DVD anyway. It’s not really a “catch an episode when you can” kind of show. It’s a show that rewards you for keeping up with the whole thing, and for paying attention. I’ve been through it four times now and I’m still spotting jokes.
Also, believe it or not, this show will force Europe’s “The Final Countdown” into your head for weeks. Don’t try to fight it.