“Thank you, America, that’s our show. Not a lot of people watched it, but the joke’s on you, ’cause we got paid anyway.” – Tracy Morgan, 30 Rock
I have lost many television shows in my day. I think back to the montage of flashbacks at the end of Lizzie McGuire right before Gordo kisses Lizzie. I asked two of my roommates for my privacy during the finales of Desperate Housewives, 30 Rock, and The Office. While I’m content with the TV shows in my life at the moment, I realize I’ll have to face the grief of watching another series finale episode and saying goodbye to the characters who have become part of my weekly life. Here are the well-calculated stages of grief of losing a TV show.
1. Denial. You hear the show is ending, and you scour the web to see if the rumors are true. Not my show! Not now! It could be canceled mid-season. There were signs, you think to yourself. It was eventually moved to a time slot where it was usually followed by infomercials or dated syndicated shows. Other times, you could tell the end was coming. The story line started dragging or becoming more absurd. In the most hopeful cases, the writers choose to end it on their own terms, giving them time to bring back your favorite characters and start to tie up loose ends in the story. But still, the end is inevitable.
2. Anger. How will I fill that one hour of my time?! Who will I turn to for life advice now that Liz Lemon is gone?! What will I base my relationships on without Jim and Pam?! I WAS A FAITHFUL AND LOYAL VIEWER. HOW IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME AGAIN?!!? Continue Reading
Syd: Well, here we are, at the end of what I consider to be one of the most unpredictable and emotionally confusing seasons of TV in my long career as a television viewer. I would absolutely love to have a face-to-face meeting with Dunham to try to figure out what the hell is going on inside of her head, but unfortunately I’m neither nearly well-connected nor cool enough. So, in place of real facts, I’ll give you my opinion (you lucky dogs!). Season 2 didn’t necessarily suck, rather it was a huge and surprising departure from Season 1. Dunham moved away from somewhat fluffy, inoffensive “white girl problems” (i.e. Shoshanna’s virginity, Hannah being cut off from her parents, Jessa’s sexual dalliances, and Marnie’s struggle to cope with a lackluster boyfriend) and decided to use Season 2 to tackle some really complex issues. We witnessed parental abandonment, drug abuse, sexual assault, and really scary case of OCD. Needless to say, it was a difficult season to watch—not because it was bad, but because I expected one kind of show and received something completely different. While I could use up this space to shit on all the things that went wrong in Girls Season 2, I’ve instead decided to have a discussion with Blog writer and fellow Girls enthusiast Sam Levison.
Sam: Girls‘ third episode, “All Adventurous Women Do,” concluded with a rather endearing scene. Hannah Horvath, having fully established herself as lovably awkward and aimless by this point, is listening (or jamming out, rather) to Robyn’s “Dancing on My Own.” Marnie comes home from work, giggles in the doorway and joins her in the bedroom disco. Hannah’s no longer dancing on her own—GET IT!? If Girls continued to rest solely on such “relatable” contrivances it might have made for some fleeting fun—but real life isn’t always a bad day and a rejuvenating dance party. Season 2 has expressed this notion in all its dark, cringeworthy truth. For lack of a better metaphor, one might view it as a Funny People for Season 1’s The Forty Year-Old Virgin. Here on Blog, there’s been a tendency to lament the show’s changes. I’d respectfully disagree and argue that this season, while ostensibly less funny, is a triumph (I’ll elaborate on this below). Sure Season 2 is difficult at times, but so is life.