Scoundrel of the Small Screen: Community (Season 1)

So I love TV, and I've been wanting to talk about it specifically on here pretty much since this blog began. And I have here and there (lest we forget the Tarkovsky-esque epic that was the Britcompilation), but I've always wanted to analyse shows season by season, and talk about the parts that make a whole. I love Dan Harmon's cult comedy Community. I've watched this show so many times, and I'm fascinated by it's season-to-season quality, with three great seasons, a questionable fourth one, a really good fifth one, and an underwhelming final one. And still no movie. There's so much to talk about with Community, and I think it makes for the perfect place to start with the TV deep dives. The more I watch this show, the more I love it. And how could you not? Whether you watch it casually or analytically, Community is one of the best comedies of the last decade. It's meta perfection, and going back to its first season reveals that it got off on an impossibly strong foot, even if it took some time for it to get into the pop culture stuff. Not that it matters a huge deal for a sitcom like this, but there are some spoilers ahead, so if you haven't seen Community and plan on watching it, proceed with caution

For those who don't know, Community is the story of Jeff Winger, a lawyer with a less-than-legitimate degree attending a community college in hopes of returning to his old life. When we meet him in the pilot, he's an utterly shallow human being, setting up a fake study group to impress Britta, a girl in his Spanish class. This backfires in the best possible way when people actually show up, invited by pop-culture aficionado Abed. I have to say, Community's pilot is one of the best I've ever seen purely for how good it is at introducing almost every vital element of the show. Every character's first introduction is strong, and the show promises to make good on its overall potential from Jeff's first Winger speech. It's one thing setting up a story in the first episode with the promise of developing it in a satisfying way, but it's a whole other ballgame to establish a show's entire personality in the space of 22 minutes. Doing this creates a starting point, not necessarily for the narrative but for the characters and the tone. Community may be a comedy but it is rich with feeling and beautifully layered, and the pilot establishes right from the beginning that the depth of emotion and sheer amount of detail are only going to be developed even more as the show progresses

That's not to say that there's no plot linking the episodes, because the entire season revolves around Jeff and his steady transformation into a better person. He's the focus of the main plot in almost every episode this season, with the rest of the cast either being central to his story in that episode or getting fleshed out in the subplot. The show excels at ensuring that they're all developed and instantly likable though, with early storylines about football star Troy, pious single mother Shirley and high-school overacheiver Annie quickly and effectively introducing them to Jeff, the audience, and more importantly each other. Over the course of the season, we get to know them as they learn to communicate as a group, and as a result, no plot feels throwaway. Most effective might actually be the gradual introduction to wealthy bigot Pierce. As a character, he's quite possibly the hardest sell, but the writers ensure that he never becomes a caricature. His attempts to bond with Jeff in the second episode and the heart-to-heart they have nine episodes later put emphasis on the fact that he just wants to be liked, and as a result you're immediately able to like and understand him

The show excels at these heartwarming moments from the first few episodes. Abed's attempts to connect with his father through the film he makes and Troy's return to football create natural comedy, but are both rendered with so much feeling that you never doubt the sincerity of the conclusions they come to. I'd also be remiss if I didn't talk about Troy and Abed as a duo. Right off the bat, their chemistry is irresistible, perfectly encapsulating the show's idea that it's important to develop relationships with people that are different to you. That idea comes up time and time again in Community, and I'll talk about it more in detail later, but it's clear from the start that celebrating and embracing how different people can form meaningful connections with each other is kind of this show's MO. It introduces characters you've seen before, but puts them into situations that force them to change their perspectives.

Debate 109 is the perfect example of this, with the push-and-pull between Annie and Jeff putting them in a situation that requires them to develop a better understanding of each other, fortifying not just their relationship but their individual arcs as well. Annie's development is arguably stronger in later seasons, but over the course of the first 25 episodes, we're effectively introduced to how unashamedly passionate she is, as well as her eternal desire to be treated as an adult. She doesn't change as much as some of the other characters in this season, but we see her become open to the idea of changing, of beginning to figure out who she is and how to go about becoming the person she wants to be.

The most focus is undoubtedly on the relationship between Britta and Jeff though. Their back-and-forth is great first episode to last, and watching them figure each other out as they're trying to understand themselves is genuinely compelling. I will say that the first season's only real slip-up comes in how it handles Jeff's relationship with statistics professor Michelle. She's a consistently weak character, and only really exists to up the stakes for Jeff and Britta. It's not that the romantic thread that runs through the show is bad, but it's never as interesting as any of the other plots in the season, and I'm glad that the show put less focus on it going forward, because it distracts from the things the show does much better

The first half of the season largely follows the same formula, with Jeff needing to help another member of the group with something and realising that caring about other people is the only way for him to grow and move forward. It's hugely effective and massively entertaining, particularly when the show turns its attention to Chang in episode 10. Where lesser shows would have kept him as a purely comedic side character until maybe giving him a standalone episode in the second or third season, the decision to give him so much humanity so early on is indicative of the warmth and empathy the show treats its characters with. People make each other better, and the mutual development of Jeff and Chang (not to mention the other characters in the two ace subplots), show the simultaneous development of multiple characters at the same time, and how Community is able to use that to its absolute advantage

This comes to a head in episode twelve, the show's first Christmas episode. This episode marks a huge turning point in Community, and it's here where the show's celebration of people's differences is at its loudest and most potent. This is made better by the interlocking character dynamics, where every character's actions impact how they relate to each of the people around them. Jeff defends Abed, but his intent to get into a fight upsets Shirley. He carries on anyway, supported by Pierce and Troy but repeatedly mocked by Britta. Annie is the first to attend Shirley's party, but inadvertently reveals that Jeff's going ahead with the fight. Ultimately, Jeff comes to realise the virtue of listening to the people that care about him, and Shirley realises that standing by the people that matter occasionally means supporting something you don't agree with. As a plot, it involves every member of the group, and although it begins by highlighting the key difference between all of them (religion), it ultimately ends in a shared experience that is both absolutely hilarious and hugely significant, showing how the group learn from each other and grow together

And although the episode that follows it isn't one of the show's best (although it does feature a great turn by Jack Black), it immediately toys with this idea. From the start, it challenges the show's conventions when they look completely set. The opening joke about Jeff's development and the group's shared recognition that change is healthy signal the flexibility of the show. True, it's just a bait-and-switch that leads to a hilariously out of nowhere Owen Wilson cameo, but it also uses how far Jeff has come to reflect on how far the show has come. This is something that happens more frequently in the second half of the season, where the show has introduced the fundamental ideas of its premise and is able to have a little more fun in remixing them. Later episodes make other characters the dramatic focus, keeping Jeff central but creating situations that allow the rest of the study group to progress further on their own, like Britta in The Science of Illusion or Abed in Contemporary American Poultry.

That episode is especially brilliant, not just as a Goodfellas parody but also as a perfect portrait of Abed as the heart and soul of the show. Abed is a great character. His problems don't come from himself, but from how he's perceived by other people, and if previous episodes allude to this, then Contemporary American Poultry tackles it directly. It's a fun homage that goes deeper, not so much exploring Abed's understanding of people as much as how he can alter their understanding of him, and the implications this creates. Abed's intricate understanding of the patterns of film and TV makes for some incredible jokes, but if American Poultry proves anything, it's that it's an equally effective tool for deepening the emotional stakes. Abed can shift the dynamics and ensure that everyone is happy, but it doesn't last and quickly becomes toxic. It's an effective way of cementing Jeff as the leader of the group, but it's also a clever use of genre savviness to fuel organic storytelling, and the first of many ace episodes that explore Abed's role as the heart of the group through his intense pop-cultural knowledge

Community excels at finding new angles from which it can develop the group's dynamic, and one episode, in which Pierce repeatedly fails to make amends with Shirley after a prank gone wrong is the perfect example of this. I love how it directly addresses the idea of the group's unique dynamic. The group can't force problems into solution, and watching Pierce and Shirley resolve their differences on their own leads to a moment that is both very sweet and delightfully subversive. I love how it challenges Jeff's role as the ultimate problem solver, letting Shirley and Pierce develop their relationship independent to the rest of the study group. That they also end up resolving Jeff and Britta's feud with some annoying teenagers is another wonderful touch

And then of course, paintball. I've rewatched Modern Warfare on its own a lot, but actually seeing it again in context reminds me of just how incredible it is. It's a wonderful piece of genre bending, but like most concept episodes, it works because of how it builds on everything that came before it. Underneath the wonderfully utilised references and the beautifully realised action is a really deftly written plot that develops Jeff's relationships with Britta and Shirley in a really interesting way. Even outside of this, this episode just rocks. It's a 22 minute action movie smuggled into a single-camera sitcom, and that's just cool. Of course it's a great parody of action tropes, but it also really works at face value, too. The action is well-constructed and dynamic, and the way the plot progresses through it is genuinely thrilling. Justin Lin brings the blockbuster thrills he excelled at with Fast & Furious to the small screen, with great action setpieces on top of the fantastic comic setpieces. He uses everything in this episode, and the way it creates wonderfully silly action out of everything from the glee-club's wily strategy to Chang's mesmerising entrance is just sheer perfection

The first season ends on a fairly strong note. Pascal's Triangle Revisited is a pretty solid conclusion, wrapping up all of the first season's major plot threads (Annie and Vaughn, Troy and Abed and that pesky love triangle), and setting up some new ones for the group's next set of escapades (Pierce and Troy living together, Chang becoming a student, Annie and Jeff sharing a kiss). It nails the atmosphere of a finale and also genuinely has that last-day-of-school vibe to it, too. I still think the show overestimated the romantic tension of the Jeff-Britta-Slater love triangle, but the finale manages to wrap that up without feeling cheap, so major points for that. I think it resolves everything the first season of Community set out to achieve. The characters feel like they've actually undergone a year(ish) of development, and seeing how far all of them have progressed in 25 episodes feels genuinely satisfying, and promises the audience that they'll only get more fleshed out going forward

As first seasons go, Community's is kind of the textbook example of how to ace it. Right off the bat it knows itself, its characters and its tone, and knows exactly how to develop them too. It's incredibly funny, heart-on-sleeve sincere and introduces the meta comedy in a way that never feels gimmicky. Later seasons would more mileage out of the pop-culture riffs and concept episodes, but I like how this run of episodes introduces it gradually, letting you get comfortable in its world before embracing its meta goodness. What surprised me going back to the first season though was just how subtle it is in playing with its established formula. Obviously paintball and the chicken finger crime plot are more obvious conceptual shifts, but the first season excels at toying with the conventions it sets up for itself in smaller ways as well. Community really subverts the "stick with the first season" caveat that shows are all too often stuck with, because almost everything in this introduction works. It's instantly funny, genuinely clever and really, really likable. I love how little time it took to be a masterpiece, and what's great about the first season, like all great first seasons of great shows, is that the really great stuff is yet to come. It's great!

I give Community's first season a 9/10