The Rest of NBC’s Leaked Community Memo

NBC continued to catch flack this morning when a memo from the network to Community cast members leaked online. Now, admittedly, NBC has not handled the firing of Dan Harmon well from a public relations perspective, and this memo doesn’t help. It reeks of an “emergency communications plan” concocted by some soulless PR hack in an empty suit, fired off in response to not only the negative reaction surrounding Harmon’s ouster but the pro-Harmon Tweets that virtually the entire cast sent out in the wake of the kerfuffle.

Now, mind you, the Tweets from Joel Mchale, Alison Brie, et al. did not criticize NBC or Sony in any way; they merely expressed gratitude to Harmon. An example:

I owe the last 3 amazing years 2 Dan Harmon's brain. Bless ur dementedly awesome brain, @danharmon. U r #Community.

—
Jim Rash (@RashisTVUgly) May 19, 2012

But, as giant, flailing corporations are wont to do, NBC overreacted and realized they needed to get their spin out, pronto. No cattle wandering off the ranch under Bob Greenblatt’s watch! So, yes, the portion of the memo we’ve seen is filled with the worst kind of doublespeak, cynicism and insincerity.

But I think the media and Community fans are being a little unfair to NBC, because only part of the memo leaked. We’ve got the rest of it, including a portion of the script for the fourth-season premiere of Community, right here, right now.

Dan Harmon’s Firing and the Future of Network Television

So while we were all off having a nice weekend (longer for some of us than others here in Chicago; thanks, NATO!), NBC and Sony essentially used Michael Scott from The Office’s filing system to let us know that Dan Harmon would not return as Community showrunner.

But alas for them, it’s 2012, and even a press release tossed into a dumpster at 6:30 p.m. on a summer Friday is going to see the light of day.

Predictably, given Community’s rabid and irritable fan base, the news of Harmon’s ouster did not go well, particularly once Harmon revealed Sony had never even contacted him to discuss contract renewal. From a public relations perspective, NBC and Sony couldn’t have handled this worse. They raised the Community community’s hopes by renewing the show, then crushed them by firing the guy responsible for the show’s voice.

The situation’s been well covered, from Alan Sepinwall analyzing how other shows have fared after the departure of a powerful showrunner to Tim Goodman spotlighting the stupidity of NBC. I certainly agree with the consensus (or at least the consensus among Community fans and critics I respect): booting Harmon is an imbecilic move that will alienate a sizable chunk of the show’s devoted viewers and rob the series of its uniqueness and soul.

But I’m also interested in what this means for network television as an ongoing concern.

Why Community Fans Are The Most Hateful Group On Earth (After Arrested Development Fans, Of Course)

I like Community… I think it’s the most original and one of the funniest shows on television. I’m bummed that it’s going on hiatus, and I hope it comes back. But to even type those lines, I need to use a pseudonym, because I wouldn’t want anybody to group me in with Community fans.

The post-hiatus online response has pretty much followed the same dynamic that was at work when Arrested Development was cancelled (a show that I liked, and only hated because I have enough hipster doofus friends that I was screamed at drunkenly multiple times that IT’S THE BEST SHOW EVER in response to saying that I liked it). It isn’t just that a television show that you liked was cancelled, it’s that it was cancelled because the networks are stupid, and the American viewers are stupid, and that the rest of the world isn’t as smart as you. In both cases, the fans secretly loved the turmoil, because it proved that they were delicate flowers, out of step with the corrupt world at large. Because they watch a certain TV show.

Now, on some level, I understand… I liked both these shows, but I LOVED Freaks and Geeks. I felt the same sense of frustration and superiority when it was cancelled. But, I didn’t get upset enough over a TV show to try to “bring it back”… even then, there was plenty of other stuff to watch for free. And even though it’s easier now with Twitter and Facebook and whatever, I still don’t think I would have. But that doesn’t mean that Community fans didn’t take their angst to the Comment section after Entertainment Weekly’s most recent Episode Recap (admittedly chosen because it must contain a stupider strain of Community fans than most sites):

Three Characters In Search Of An Exit (Or, How Kramer Killed The Sitcom)

It’s always been difficult to put together a great sitcom. As much as we like to romanticize the shows of our youth, I’m guessing it would take about half-an-episode of Night Court or Three’s Company before we’d be heading for the gin.

The past decade has seen its share of classics, from the hipster catnip of Arrested Development to the comedy of manners of Curb Your Enthusiasm… it would be hard to argue that the form has either waned or waxed, from a general quality standpoint. But there’s a specter that’s hanging over too many sitcoms on the air right now, a goofy, floppity ghost that haunts the back of even the best showrunners’ brains.

The Shifting Identities of TV Networks

…or Why NBC is Run By a Batch of Baboons

Television networks work very hard and spend millions of dollars trying to build a brand, so that when viewers think of ABC or Fox, they associate that network with specific traits and ideas. Of course, the networks want to control how we think about them and what we associate with them. The reality however, is that viewer conception of networks comes from a mix of the networks trying to brainwash us, the shows they actually put on the air, and a nostalgic, hazy feeling of what those networks used to be when we were younger and more impressionable.

Network identities have shifted over time as they evolve (or devolve) along with the shows they currently air, and reflecting the demographics of their audience. Moreover, a network’s image or self-image often has a direct impact on the fate of its shows. Quality shows get cancelled and intriguing pilots get rejected because they don’t fit the brand, while mediocre shows live on for years past their shelf life because they reinforce networks’ self-belief. Let’s examine how these brand identities have changed over the past 30 years.

That Makes Me One Percent

At least 99 percent of Americans don’t watch Community regularly. Their reaction, upon learning that NBC left the show off its mid-season schedule:

On the other hand, everybody I know and follow on Twitter watches Community. Their reaction was more like this:

You Got Your Sawyer in My Community!

So, thanks to Dan Harmon’s Twitter feed, we know this is happening:

Seeing this photo made me instantly miss Lost. And then I got excited wondering what nicknames Sawyer will come up with for the gang on Community. A few predictions:

Jeff: Smirky

Britta: Blondie Goldilocks

Abed: Temple Grandin

Troy: Jockstrap Jones

Pierce: Wrinkles

Shirley: Rose

Annie: Ricotta dumpling

Chang: Miyagi

Why Community is Better than Family Guy

My generation is conditioned to love and appreciate pop culture references. Telvision, film and music are the great uniters for men and ladies of a certain age — those of us who are young enough to have had enough choices to allow which bands we liked to identify us as people (“what you like is more important than what you are like”), yet old enough to have matured before American culture splintered past the point of no return.

We relate to each other through movie quotes, shared memories of concerts, and the joy of a song from our youth being played on a jukebox at the perfect time. In the late 20th century, popular culture became our shared experience. Alex P. Keaton is our collective brother. Ric Ocasek is our collective weird uncle. Belinda Carlisle is the older girl we all fell for.

In lieu of conversations about actual feelings, or anything equally dreadful, we talk about our favorite David Lynch movies and toss Seinfeld references around like confetti. It’s why we love Quentin Tarantino, Beck, Girl Talk, and any other artists that deal in pastiche. It’s why we love High Fidelity (book and film), and making lists. We love the movie Beautiful Girls as much for its revival of “Sweet Caroline” as for the confused feelings it gave us about Natalie Portman.

Pop culture. It’s what we are. And pop culture references are what we use to get by in daily life.

Because of that, those references have became a cheap signifier. In place of actual content, it’s easy for artists to throw in a line from an ’80s movie we all love to form an emotional connection. To make us like them. Recognizability has replaced quality. And it’s right to be suspicious of pop culture references when they’re used to trigger a certain response. Just like it’s right to be suspicious of nostalgia.

But when used correctly, in conjunction with legitimate story and characters, those references can elevate art/entertainment to a higher plain. At least for those of us in a certain demographic group.

The Best Sitcom Beginnings

Modern Family and Community both return to the air with new episodes this week, marking the start of the new fall TV season. Last year, those two shows turned in undeniably strong opening seasons, helping to temporarily quell talk about sitcoms dying. (Until this year, when new shows like Mike & Molly kill off networks for good.)

But where do they rank among the all-team best premiere seasons ever for American sitcoms? Which finished ahead of the other? Was either season the greatest of all time? To celebrate the return of two great young upstarts, we’re counting down the ten best opening seasons in American sitcom history.