BuzzFeed: "Community Season 5 Feels Like An Old Friend Has Finally Come Home"

The long-awaited return of the NBC comedy — now back under the watchful eye of creator Dan Harmon — distances itself from its disappointing fourth season. Gas leak year, people.

At BuzzFeed, you can read my latest story, "Community Season 5 Feels Like An Old Friend Has Finally Come Home," in which I review the first few episodes of Season 5 of NBC's Community. (YES.)

I’ll admit that I was somewhat wary when three episodes from Season 5 of NBC’s Community surfaced on my desk last week. After all, the fourth season of the Dan Harmon-created gonzo comedy — which was Dan Harmon-less, after all — left a lot to be desired. I choose to look at it as an alt-reality version of a show that I had cherished in its first three seasons: The characters vaguely resembled that Greendale study group with whom I had spent so many virtual hours, yet they didn’t feel quite right. Something was off — the plots felt too contrived, and the show wandered into a broadness of comedy that it had previously adamantly avoided.

Given that, there is quite a lot riding on the Jan. 2 premiere of Community, which sees the return of Harmon as the showrunner of the comedy he created. Fortunately, the three episodes provided to press — Episodes 1, 2, and 4 — go a long way to reassure fans that the show is once more back in the hands of its true caretakers. (Warning: minor spoilers ahead.)

The fifth season premiere (“Repilot”), written by Harmon and the also returning co-executive producer Chris McKenna, attempts to reestablish Community’s identity after the flawed efforts of Season 4, much of which are explained away as a “gas leak year.” In fact, the episode — which both comments on the efforts of Scrubs to “repilot” itself in Season 9 and utilizes a similar formatting — distances itself entirely from Season 4, intellectually and creatively. As such, the episode has a lot to accomplish in a relatively brief running time, which might be why “Repilot” feels a little overeager and fraught: It needs to not only bring the study group back to Greendale and back together, but it also has to engineer a reason as to why they decide to stay. Bridges, both literal and metaphorical, are broken and mended.

Continue reading at BuzzFeed...

The Daily Beast: "Community: Season 4 of the NBC Comedy Ponders the End"

(Jordin Althaus/NBC/Sony Pictures)

The absurdist comedy returns to NBC on Thursday after a lengthy delay and many behind-the-scenes changes, including the exit of creator Dan Harmon.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "Community: Season 4 of the NBC Comedy Ponders the End," in which I review the fourth season of NBC's Community, which returns Thursday evening and after many behind-the-scenes changes. Does the show look and feel as it once did? Or does it feel as though not every came back from summer break?

“What’s the deal, Jessica Biel?”

Community, after an absence of what feels like five years and numerous timeslot and launch date changes, finally unveils its fourth season on Thursday. For the faithful, waiting this long to return to Greendale has been an arduous trial, particularly as curiosity is running high amid the many behind-the-scenes changes made since the show wrapped up its third season way back in May 2012.

For one, series creator Dan Harmon is no longer at the helm, after a well-publicized ouster that saw him as well as showrunners Neil Goldman and Garrett Donovan depart the NBC comedy. A handful of others—including writer/producer Chris McKenna (currently writing on Fox’s The Mindy Project), executive producers/directors Anthony and Joe Russo, and actor/writer Dino Stamatopoulos (Starburns)—also exited stage left. In their place are new showrunners David Guarascio and Moses Port, perhaps best known for their work on the multi-camera workplace comedy Just Shoot Me and for creating the short-lived comedy Aliens in America.

Suffice it to say, fans of Community want to know: what does the show feel like without Harmon and Co. steering the plot? On a show so gonzo and absurd and generally out there, what does the loss of its creator mean?

It would be far easier to say if the (new) Community were a disaster or a masterpiece. However, the truth doesn’t fall at either end. Community now feels rather like it did during its first three seasons, with its sense of humor and bizarro-world energies intact. (That sense of sameness might be aided by longtime writer Andy Bobrow scripting the season opener, offering a sense of continuity.)

If there’s anything I noticed during the two episodes provided to press for review (the first and third installments, but not—oddly enough—Megan Ganz’s Halloween episode, which airs on … Valentine’s Day), it’s that perhaps a spark that permeated the very best episodes of Community is missing. Perhaps that sense of mad genius came from Harmon himself or perhaps it can be regained once this new configuration of the Community writers finds their legs. But I can’t point to anything specific after two viewings. It doesn’t feel entirely off, but it feels as if not everyone came back from this prolonged summer break.

Continue reading at The Daily Beast...

The Daily Beast: "18 Shows to Watch This Winter"

Stay cozy this New Year: I find the 18 new and returning television shows that will keep you warm this winter, from Girls and Justified to The Staircase, The Americans, and House of Cards.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "18 Shows to Watch This Winter," in which I round up 18 new and returning noteworthy shows that you should be watching between January and March. Some you're looking forward to, some you may not have heard of, and there are a few that you've already drawn a big red circle on the calendar on the day that they return...

Yes, Downton Abbey is back: the beloved British period drama returns to PBS’s Masterpiece for a third season beginning on Jan. 6, but it’s not the only new or noteworthy show heading to television this winter.

Indeed, some of the most intriguing, dynamic, or plain interesting shows are launching in midseason this year, from Fox’s serial killer drama The Following and Sundance Channel’s Jane Campion-created murder mystery Top of the Lake to FX’s Soviet spy period drama The Americans (starring Keri Russell!), Netflix's American remake of political potboiler House of Cards, and the return of both NBC’s subversive comedy Community and HBO’s Girls.

Jace Lacob rounds up 18 new and returning television shows that will help keep you warm during these chilly winter months, from the intriguing to the sensational.

Continue reading at The Daily Beast...

The Daily Beast: "Community: The NBC Comedy is Shelved Until Later, But Why?"

I explore NBC’s decision to hold Community until an undisclosed later date, which arrives during a television season that lowers the bar on expectations and on success.

At The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "Community: The NBC Comedy is Shelved Until Later, But Why?" in which I explore some of the reasons why NBC opted to hold Community until a later date.

Community will not be returning on Friday, October 19, and will instead remain in limbo for the foreseeable future. While the news left Greendale fans panicking, the network claims it has made the late decision because NBC had focused promotional support on the network’s Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday lineups, apparently forgetting about the existence of Community and Whitney, which were meant to return next Friday. The two low-rated comedies may instead end up filling in for the network’s other trouble spots in the coming weeks or months.

While this sort of network scheduling second-guessing is only too common these days, it comes at an odd time, both for Community and for NBC and for the broadcasters in general. While a handful of shows have received full season orders, it is head scratching that the networks have still yet to even cancel a single underperforming new series this year. (Yes, even The Mob Doctor remains on the air.) Usually, by this time, one or several shows have gotten the axe, sometimes after just as little as two episodes on air.

But the 2012-13 season proves that the bar for keeping a show on is much, much lower than perhaps ever before. Fox’s The Mob Doctor is clinging to life with a 0.9 in the demo on a Monday night. Even CBS has had to make do with a 0.8 in the adults 18-49 demo for its barely-hanging on legal drama Made in Jersey on a Friday night (beaten even by Fox’s Fringe), opting to keep the show on the air instead of canning it. And when things are sinking at CBS, the television equivalent of the land of milk and honey, things are really, really bad.

Despite the fact that the networks all have held back a number of shows for midseason, they appear to be fearful of swapping them out for what they’ve got on air now. (After all, they’ve already spent millions in advertising, promotion, and press for these duds.) So it might be a case of trying to recoup ad money while they still can while saving their later shows for when things really get bad. But that doesn’t change the fact that many of these shows—as least as largely determined by the outmoded viewership metrics that remain in place—are being more or less rejected by America.

Continue reading at The Daily Beast...

The Daily Beast: "Why Comedy Writers Love HBO's Game of Thrones"

Game of Thrones is beloved by viewers and critics alike. But the Emmy-nominated HBO fantasy drama is also a surprising favorite in the writers’ rooms of TV comedies around Hollywood. I talk to sitcom writers about why they’re obsessed with the sex-and-magic-laden drama, and how the show informs their own narratives.

At The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "Why Comedy Writers Love HBO's Game of Thrones," in which I talk to writers from Parks and Recreation, Modern Family, and Community about why they love HBO's Game of Thrones, nominated for an Emmy Award for Best Drama.

Fox’s upcoming sitcom The Mindy Project, created by and starring Mindy Kaling, deconstructs the romantic comedy fantasies of its lead character, an ob-gyn whose disappointment in the dating world stems from her obsessive viewing of Nora Ephron films.

At the Television Critics Association Summer Press Tour in July, Kaling was candid about the role that When Harry Met Sally and other rom-coms would play on the show, but also revealed the show might feature shoutouts to HBO’s Game of Thrones, which is nominated for an Emmy Award for Best Drama.

“My writing staff, they are just obsessed with Game of Thrones,” Kaling said. “The show could just have Game of Thrones references: dragons, stealing eggs of dragon babies… You might see a lot—more than your average show—of Game of Thrones references.”

Yet the writers of The Mindy Project are not the only scribes who have fallen under the spell of the ferocious Game of Thrones, which depicts the struggle for control of the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

“It’s a violent, strange show with lots of sex in it,” Kaling went on to say.

Writers’ rooms—where the plots of television shows are “broken,” in industry parlance—often revolve around discussions of other shows, particularly ones that have a significant hold on the cultural conversation, whether it be Breaking Bad, Mad Men, or Homeland.

“A comedy writers’ room is like a really great dinner party with the smartest and funniest people you’ve ever met,” Parks and Recreation co-executive producer Alexandra Rushfield wrote in an email. Their typical conversations? “The presidential campaign. Whatever articles or books people are reading. Taking wagers on crazy statistics, like how much all the casts in the world combined might weigh. General heckling of co-workers.”

And TV shows such as Game of Thrones that viewers can debate endlessly. Modern Family executive producer Danny Zuker likened Game of Thrones to Lost in terms of the volume of discussion and passionate debate that the show engenders. It’s certainly immersive: five massive novels, two seasons of television, maps, online forums, family trees. Game of Thrones is a show that provokes—or even forces—viewer evaluation, deconstruction, and discussion.

“Many writers that I know are into it,” said Zuker over lunch on the Fox lot. “The setting of the world probably appeals to that nerd that is in most writers… I never played Dungeons & Dragons, but I get why the most disaffected kids who are intelligent and creative did, because in that world you could be powerful…. I basically just described comedy writers.”

Continue reading at The Daily Beast...

The Daily Beast: "Fall TV Preview: Where We Left Off"

Can’t remember how Revenge, Homeland, The Good Wife, or Dexter ended? Refresh your collective memory about the cliffhangers for 27 returning shows—and previews of what’s to come.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "Fall TV Preview: Where We Left Off," in which Maria Elena Fernandez and I refresh your memory about how 27 shows--from Revenge and Homeland to The Good Wife and Boardwalk Empire--ended last season... and offer a glimpse about what's to come.

Carrie remembered stuff! Leslie was elected! Sheldon took Amy’s hand! Gloria is pregnant! Nucky whacked Jimmy! Victoria Grayson’s plane blew up! Dexter…oh, Dexter!

The fall TV season is officially here, which means we can all breathe a sigh of relief and pull ourselves up from the cliff-hanging precipice. Sure, there’s a bunch of new TV shows across the dial champing at the bit for your attention. But we want to focus on your returning old favorites.

What’s next on Scandal—will we find out who Quinn is? Will Emily track down her mother on Revenge? How will Captain Cragen deal with that dead hooker in his bed on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit? And just what will the gang at Greendale get up to on Community without Dan Harmon at the helm?

To refresh your memory after the long, hot summer, The Daily Beast has a guide to the good and bad times of last season and a peek into what’s coming next this fall.

Parenthood (NBC; Tuesdays at 10 p.m.; returns Sept. 11)

Where We Left Off: You’ll be forgiven for not remembering, since Parenthood wrapped its season way back in February. Crosby (Dax Shepard) and Jasmine (Joy Bryant) finally tied the knot; Adam (Peter Krause) and Crosby decided to keep the Luncheonette open; Mark (Jason Ritter) proposed to Sarah (Lauren Graham), even though the two were at odds about whether they wanted to have children. Elsewhere, after the heartbreak of not getting the baby they meant to adopt, Julia (Erika Christensen) and Joel (Sam Jaeger) instead adopted a five-year-old Latino boy, Victor (Xolo Mariduena).

Where We Pick Up: The entire Braverman clan prepares for the departure of Haddie (Sarah Ramos), who is heading off to Cornell. Sarah and Mark are happily engaged, and Sarah stumbles onto a job working for a curmudgeonly photographer (Ray Romano). Amber (Mae Whitman) is now working with her uncles at the Luncheonette, while Drew (Miles Heizer), now a high school senior, is ecstatic about the return of Amy (Skyler Day) from camp, but the course of (young) love never did run smooth. Kristina (Monica Potter) and Adam consider getting a dog for Max (Max Burkholder), while one of the Bravermans faces a—SPOILER ALERT—potential medical crisis. Prepare to cry. A lot.

Continue reading at The Daily Beast...

The Daily Beast: "2012 Emmy Nomination Snubs & Surprises"

The nominations are out: Homeland, Downtown Abbey, and Girls get their shot at the awards, while The Good Wife, Community, Louie, Justified, and many others are shut out.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "2012 Emmy Nomination Snubs & Surprises," in which I discuss which shows and actors were snubbed by the TV Academy as well as a few surprise nominations. Plus, view our gallery of the nominees.

The Television Academy has today announced its nominations for the 64th Primetime Emmy Awards and, looking at the list, you may be forgiven for thinking that every single member of the casts of Downton Abbey and Modern Family had walked away with nominations. (It just seems that way.)


AMC’s Mad Men and FX’s American Horror Story tied for the most nominations, with 17 apiece, while PBS’ cultural phenomenon Downton Abbey—which shifted from the miniseries category into Best Drama this year—grabbed 16 nominations (tying with History’s Hatfields & McCoys), including many in the acting categories. Also getting a lot of love this year: Game of Thrones, Homeland, Modern Family, and Sherlock. Not getting a lot of love: network dramas.

Once again, the dramatic categories are fierce competitions, including the dramatic actress races, which boast Julianna Margulies, Michelle Dockery, Elisabeth Moss, Kathy Bates, Claire Danes, and Glenn Close for Lead Actress and Archie Panjabi, Anna Gunn, Maggie Smith, Joanne Froggatt, Christina Hendricks, and Christine Baranski for Supporting. But for those shows that managed to score a bounty of nominations, there were those that were shut out in the cold altogether.

Hugh Laurie, an Emmy mainstay, failed to get a nomination for the final season of Fox’s House, while Justified didn’t get any love as a show or for its stars, Timothy Olyphant and Walton Goggins. (The show scored only two nominations overall, none in the main categories.) With Downton Abbey in the best drama series mix, CBS’ The Good Wife didn’t score a nomination, and the comedy list, heavy on HBO contenders, failed to include Community, Louie, and Parks and Recreation. (Speaking of which, will Parks’ Nick Offerman EVER get a nomination at this rate?)

Some oversights, however, are more egregious than others, and the nominations this year had their fair share of surprises as well. Here are some of the biggest snubs and most shocking surprises of this year’s Emmy nominations…

SNUB: Parks and Recreation (NBC)
This year’s Best Comedy category boasts no less than three HBO shows—including two newcomers in Girls and Veep, and returnee Curb Your Enthusiasm—leaving little room for much else to break through. The rest of the positions went to 30 Rock, Modern Family, and The Big Bang Theory, all of which have proven over the years to be irresistible catnip to Emmy voters. But to leave out Parks and Recreation, which had one of its best and most nuanced seasons to date, is particularly myopic. Revolving around the campaign of Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler, who was rightly nominated), Season 4 was tremendous, examining the hope and optimism of one political candidate against whom the odds were stacked, thanks to a spoiled candy company offspring (Paul Rudd) and his manipulative campaign manager (the ubiquitous Kathryn Hahn). Omitting Parks from the list of nominees is a slap in the face given just how deserving this show is of some awards recognition.

SNUB: Community (NBC)
Likewise, the final Dan Harmon season of Community was also shut out of the awards process. Putting aside the fact that none (NONE!) of its commendable actors managed to secure nominations in their respective categories, the gonzo and wildly imaginative comedy was also denied a Best Comedy nomination, despite the fact that this season proved to be one of its most absurd and inventive yet, delving into chaos theory, the mystery of a murdered yam (presented as a Law & Order episode), a Civil War parody, 8-bit video games, and a scathing Glee takedown. Perhaps Community is simply too good for the Emmys; perhaps it belongs not to awards committees, but rather to the people instead: to those individuals who appreciate and understand the warped genius of this show.

Continue reading at The Daily Beast...

The Darkest Timeline: Quick Thoughts on Dan Harmon's Firing from Community

On Thursday evening, NBC burned off the final three episodes of Community’s third season, 90 minutes of the remainder of the season haphazardly arranged around the 30 Rock finale. These well-received episodes tapped into the heart of what makes the offbeat comedy tick: 8-bit video games, an elaborate heist, and a trial over ownership rights to a sandwich shop.

If this all seems gonzo and out there, that’s the point: Community blazed creative trails that were largely heretofore unseen on American broadcast network television. If this had marked the end of Community, it would have gone out with a bang that was both joyous and triumphant. NBC had rescued the show with an eleventh hour reprieve, granting it a 13-episode renewal and moving it to the graveyard of Friday nights. But whether Dan Harmon, whose contract expired at the end of the third season, would be returning to the show he created was still very much unknown when the end credits ran on the final episode.

It was reported late last night, less than 24 hours after the show wrapped up its latest season, that Harmon would be replaced on Community: writers David Guarascio and Moses Port (Aliens in America) would be stepping in as showrunners, and Harmon would shift to a “consulting producer” position on Community.

Harmon confirmed the news this morning with a post on his Tumblr blog, Dan Harmon Poops. “Why’d Sony want me gone? I can’t answer that because I’ve been in as much contact with them as you have,” wrote Harmon. “They literally haven’t called me since the season four pickup, so their reasons for replacing me are clearly none of my business. Community is their property, I only own ten percent of it, and I kind of don’t want to hear what their complaints are because I’m sure it would hurt my feelings even more now that I’d be listening for free.”

Earlier in the week, NBC Entertainment Chairman Robert Greenblatt spoke to press about the ongoing discussions between NBC, studio Sony Pictures Television, and Harmon, saying that Harmon might not be running the day-to-day on the show anymore. "I expect Dan's voice to a part of the show somehow," Greenblatt said.

The news is less of a shock than it is a disappointment, creatively at least. Under Harmon’s aegis, Community has amassed a small but rabidly loyal fanbase and pushed the boundaries of the American sitcom format. But, despite Harmon’s creative accomplishments, he had often run afoul of NBC and Sony during the course of the first three seasons. I was on set during one of these confrontations, in which a combative Harmon screamed at an NBC executive on the phone. (Afterward, he turned to me and said, “And that’s how the sausage gets made.”)

The show hasn’t been without controversy: there has been a revolving door of writers, rumors of budget overages and lateness (former executive producer Neil Goldman denied the former issue, telling me that the "show was not overbudget."), that public feud between Dan Harmon and Chevy Chase. Harmon himself admitted on his blog that he was often “damn bad” at the management aspects of his job. But for the show’s audience (at least that sizeable contingent that doesn’t also work within the industry or cover it), this matters very little in the grand scheme of things.

Showrunners get replaced all the time, Greenblatt said ominously last Sunday. His words echo all the more in my head today, now that I’ve had time to more fully process Harmon’s removal from the show.

There are a few shows that I directly associate with their creators. Community is one of those and Harmon’s vision for the show is impossible to untangle from the show itself. (Another is Gilmore Girls, which went off the rails a bit in Season 6 and then become unwatchable altogether in its final season once Amy Sherman Palladino left. Twin Peaks, the brainchild of David Lynch and Mark Frost, is another.)

Sony’s decision raises certain creative questions: Is Community really Community without Dan Harmon? Can two outsiders come in and fulfill the vision that Harmon had for the show without Harmon? If you rip out the heart of the show, can it still be called Community? As writer Megan Ganz tweeted last night, “Some people think there are a lot of synonyms for the word ‘irreplaceable.’ I don't.”

This is, in many ways, the darkest timeline: a pyrrhic victory for the show and its fans that saw the show renewed, only to see its creator pushed out of his position of creative power, taking away the impetus and drive behind the show’s spirit, and removing any real agency from Harmon, reduced to more a less a “consultant” on a show that he birthed.

Harmon is, at the end of the day, a mad genius, a tortured artist whose natural state of being misunderstood connected the show with millions of viewers who themselves perhaps felt out of place at times. He’ll be missed in many ways.

Back in September 2010, while visiting the set of Community for a story I was writing for The Daily Beast, Dan Harmon jokingly told me, "My job is to dream and smile." Those words are all the more difficult to read today, past tense as they are now.

The Daily Beast: "Spring TV Preview: 9 Shows to Watch, 4 Shows to Skip"

With the return of Mad Men and Game of Thrones, spring is officially here.

Over at The Daily Beast, I offer a rundown of what’s worth watching over the next few months, and what you can skip altogether.

You can read my Spring TV Preview intro here, which puts the next few months into perspective, and then head over to the gallery feature to read "9 Shows to Watch, 4 Shows to Skip," which includes such notables as Mad Men, Community, Game of Thrones, VEEP, Girls, Bent, and others... and those you should just skip, like Magic City, Missing, etc.

What shows are you most looking forward to this spring? And which ones are you pretending don't exist at all? Head to the comments section to discuss...

The Daily Beast: "The Women of Community"

At The Daily Beast, Community’s female stars—and one of its writers—sit down for a roundtable discussion about being a woman in comedy, the show’s legacy, slut shaming, and more. Tears are shed!

You can read my latest feature, entitled "The Women of Community," in which I visit the set of NBC's Community on the final night of shooting Season 3 to sit down with Alison Brie, Yvette Nicole Brown, Gillian Jacobs, and writer Megan Ganz to discuss being a woman in comedy, the “dark night of the soul” ahead, and the Bridesmaids effect, among other topics.

Fans of NBC’s Community—the wildly inventive yet criminally unwatched critical darling, now in its third season—were shocked when the network unceremoniously placed it on an indeterminate hiatus. Those same loyal viewers turned to Twitter hashtags, flash mobs, and original pieces of artwork (depicting the Greendale gang alternately as Batman villains, X-Men, Star Wars characters, and even Calvin and Hobbes), all in an effort to keep the adventures of a group of disparate community-college students alive.

Last week, NBC finally gave the Dan Harmon–created comedy a return date of March 15, when it will retake its old haunt of 8 p.m. on Thursdays for 12 episodes that had been produced while the show’s fate was still unknown.

On the final night of shooting for Season 3, The Daily Beast visited the set of Community to sit at the study-room table, its surface marred from ax blows, for a roundtable discussion with its female stars—Alison Brie, Yvette Nicole Brown, and Gillian Jacobs—and one of its female writers, Megan Ganz, for a discussion about being a woman in comedy, the “dark night of the soul” ahead, and the Bridesmaids effect, among other topics. What follows is an edited transcript of that discussion, which ended in tears for more than one of its participants.

Continue reading at The Daily Beast...

The Daily Beast: "NBC's Community Returns March 15"

While fans of NBC's beloved--if low-rated--comedy Community, which went on an indefinite hiatus in December, have had to make due these last few months with casting news (Giancarlo Esposito! John Hodgman! A Law & Order-themed episode!) and ++fan-generated art++ [http://critormiss.tumblr.com/post/17727815698/savecommunity], there is some good news to be had for the loyal followers of the Greendale study group.

Community will return Thursday, March 15 at 8 p.m. with the first of twelve all-new episodes. Multiple sources close to the production confirmed the news, first tweeted by Community creator Dan Harmon, that the Sony Pictures Television-produced show would be returning to its old Thursday night stomping ground next month.

Read it at The Daily Beast

The Daily Beast: "Homeland, Justified, Downton Abbey and More: The Best and Worst TV Shows of 2011"

At The Daily Beast, it's finally time for my Best and Worst TV Shows of 2011 list: with 10 shows up for recognition as the best (including Justified, Homeland, Downton Abbey, Community, Parks and Recreation, Game of Thrones, The Good Wife, and more) and five for worst of 2011. (Plus, you can also compare my Best/Worst picks to my colleague Maria Elena Fernandez's.)

Head over to The Daily Beast to read my latest feature, "Homeland, Justified, Downton Abbey and More: The Best and Worst TV Shows of 2011," which--as the title indicates--rounds up the best and worst television that 2011 had to offer. Warning: the story may contain spoilers if you are not entirely caught up on the shows discussed here.

What is your take on our lists? Did your favorite/least favorite shows make the cut? Head to the comments section to discuss and debate.

The Daily Beast: "Community on Hiatus: Why NBC Is Making a Mistake"

Community fans, this is your St. Crispin’s Day moment. Dumping Community in favor of shifting around the Thursday-night comedies feels a bit like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. Community, after all, is not the iceberg that’s sinking NBC.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest story, "Community on Hiatus: Why NBC Is Making a Mistake," in which I look at the case for and against keeping the brilliant and subversive comedy around.

For right now, Community airs Thursday evening at 8 p.m. on NBC.

Rolling the Dice: An Advance Review of Community's "Remedial Chaos Theory"

Warning: You do not want to miss Thursday's episode of Community.

It's a given that some of the most ambitious episodes of NBC's Community are often the ones with the seemingly most straightforward concepts. Look at Season Two's fantastic "Cooperative Calligraphy" for a strong example of this: the gang at Greendale is locked in the study room when Annie's pen goes missing. A bottle episode is turned on its head (no pun intended) here, transforming a slight idea into a larger one as the group is beset by paranoia and fractures in front of our eyes.

The same holds true for Thursday's upcoming episode, "Remedial Chaos Theory," another bottle episode that defies the laws of logic and probability in a way. With Dan Harmon and the writing staff achieving such dizzying heights with "Cooperative Calligraphy," it seemed nearly impossible that they would be able to approach another bottle episode with the same gonzo spirit that made the original so palpably exciting and innovative. And yet that's just what they've managed to do with this week's episode, another bottle episode of ingenuity, emotion, and true insight, which I loved from start to finish.

Quick set up: Troy and Abed have a new apartment and they've invited the study group over for a housewarming party with genteel rules and a bowl of olives next to the toilet. (It's that sort of "fancy" do.) When the pizza they ordered arrives, no one wants to go down to get it, leading Jeff to come up with a solution: he'll roll a six-sided die to determine which of them will go downstairs. This is where the chaos theory of the title comes in, as Abed posits that Jeff has unwittingly created a series of alternate timelines, based on the outcome of the roll.

The genius of the installment comes from the fact that we're allowed to witness how each of these timelines plays out, sometimes similarly, sometimes with vast differences, each spinning out of the singular event of Jeff throwing that die in the air. In some, truths are dragged out into the light; in others, feelings are locked away, possibly forever, as moments fizzle, are missed, or are shunned altogether. The beauty of the episode comes from the small universalities created across the timelines, some of which are affected by the chaotic nature of the die-roll: Shirley baking pies, Jeff injuring himself, Britta wanting to sing aloud to "Roxanne," Pierce's insensitivity (and a gross Eartha Kitt story), etc.

Likewise, the episode works because of the individual characters' consistency from timeline to timeline. The dynamics between the characters may shift and buckle due to external pressures--people are in different places due to the chaotic nature of change in the timestream--but the characters themselves remain reassuringly the same: Jeff will always act like Jeff; Shirley will always be giving; Britta always flighty. The simmering attraction between Jeff and Annie is still bubbling away, because these timelines emanate not from the distant past but from the immediacy of now, from a chance roll of the dice.

I don't want to spoil too much of "Remedial Chaos Theory" because it is a breathtakingly ambitious episode comprised of separate narrative strands that twist together into an intoxicating union of character, story, and plot. (And fake goatees.) The concept may be heady, but the emotions within these timelines are painfully real, resonant, and yet not separate from the comedy. Will the gang tell Shirley why they're shunning her baked goods? Will Jeff and Annie give into their mutual attraction? What's going on between Troy and Britta? Will Pierce choose to humiliate Troy or choose to be a decent human being?

What I will say is that the episode gives us one of the series' best moments of group unity and singularity that had my face aching from smiling by the end of it. I'm definitely not going to ruin the moment here, but I'll say that it's both fitting and unexpected, a true instance of shared joy and collectiveness that harkens to the show's title and the group's relationship, not just to one another, but to the audience as well.

All in all, "Remedial Chaos Theory" is an intelligent, hysterical, and ambitious installment that proves just how much the Community writers challenge themselves to break through long-held narrative traditions to produce something innovative and electrifying. It's clear that they too took a chance on a roll of the dice, and this piece of narrative origami has paid off magnificently.

Community's "Remedial Chaos Theory" airs Thursday at 8 pm ET/PT on NBC.

The Daily Beast: "The Emmy Awards’ 10 Biggest Snubs"

The nominations are out: Parks and Recreation, Game of Thrones, Friday Night Lights, and Mad Men get their shot at the awards, while Community, Nick Offerman, and many others are shut out.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, entitled, "The Emmy Awards’ 10 Biggest Snubs," in which I examine shows and actors were snubbed by the TV Academy. Plus, view our gallery of the nominees.

The 63rd Primetime Emmy Awards will be televised live on September 18th on Fox.

The Daily Beast: "The Death of Will-They-or-Won't-They"

In recent years, it’s been a given that romantic pairs on television had to be subjected to the will-they or-won't-they dilemma—where couples as clearly in love as Ross-and-Rachel, Sam-and-Diane, or Jim-and-Pam were prevented from jumping into bed together for years, as the writers forced them through increasingly tight narrative hoops.

These days, though, it seems like more and more TV couples just will. As writer-producers have sought to surprise the audience, they’re puncturing romantic tropes in the process.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "The Death of Will-They-or-Won't-They," for which I talk to Community’s Dan Harmon, Parks and Recreation’s Mike Schur and Greg Daniels, and Bones’ Hart Hanson about how TV is throwing off that age-old will-they-or-won’t-they paradigm in the post-Jim-and-Pam era.

Paintball Battle Royale: Thoughts on the Season Finale of Community

If there's a show that knows how to throw a curveball (or a paintball), that seems to relish deflecting your expectations, it's NBC's Community.

The delightfully absurdist comedy wrapped up its season tonight with the second half of a two-part episode ("For A Few Paintballs Or More") that continued the paintball assassin-exploits of last week's Sergio Leone-style spaghetti Western. In looking to top last season's jaw-dropping paintball-themed "Modern Warfare," executive producer Dan Harmon and Company have delivered an astonishing combination of Westerns and Star Wars, paintball and mind games, Stormtroopers, Black Riders, and, er, saloon dancers. (Yes, Vicki, I'm looking at you.)

Tonight's season finale firmly embraces the gonzo style of those previous episodes, creating an episode that is both an absurdist adventure plot and the culmination of the entire season's overarching plotlines: Jeff's need to control the group, the Problem with Pierce, the inter-college rivalry, and the Community gang's obsession with Cougar Town. (Yes, that *was* Busy Phillips and Dan Byrd cheering on the Greendale "Human Beings" near the paintball Gatling gun.)Not to mention the surprising tryst between Annie and Abed... or at least Abed channeling Star Wars' immature hero, Han Solo. But it's not this liplock--its spell broken by the orange paint raining down from the sprinkler systems (courtesy of plumbing enthusiast Troy)--that ends the season; it's a singular moment between the characters. While Annie seems to cling to the unexpected pleasure she gets from that kiss, Abed has already moved on, casting off his latest character to return to the relative reality of the scene.

It's the departure of Pierce--and his decision to walk out on the study group--that actually brings to a close the second season. (Apart, that is, from the tag with Abed and the poor Greendale janitor.) It's interesting that Harmon et al would choose this moment to signify the end of the sophomore year, given the way in which these past twenty-odd episodes have held up a prism to the character of Pierce. Is he redeemed by his decision to sabotage the enemy and then hand over the $100K to Greendale rather than keep it for himself? Is it enough that he commits an act of generosity and altruism? Is it a moment of truth for this character when he turns his back on Jeff and the others and walks out of the study room?

We're told--rather surprisingly--that Pierce has been at Greendale for 12 years, and that this is the first time he actually made friends with any of his fellow students. It's a twist that I didn't see coming, particularly given the spotlight that has been shone on Pierce throughout the season.

Let's be clear: Chevy Chase isn't going anywhere... so neither is Pierce Hawthorne, the group's resident, well, thorn in their side. However, I think that this turn of events will manage to set up a new dynamic between Pierce and the study group when they return in the fall. After being excluded and playing the "villain" all season, he's decided to exile himself from the group altogether, subverting Jeff's own expectations that he would come crawling back at the last second after making a dramatic exit. (This is a man, let's remember, who fakes a heart attack twice during one game of paintball... and has also faked a heart attack out of giving Abed a piece of gum.) Just what does this mean for Season Three and for Pierce's connection to the central characters? Will the series follow Pierce as he forms a new group separate to this group of misfit outsiders? (Perhaps with Starburns and Leonard? Or Fat Neil and Garrett, named for executive producers Neil Goldman and Garrett Donovan? Kendra with a "q-u"?)

Putting aside those far-reaching effects, this was a pretty amazing episode that not only wove together those aforementioned story strands but also served as another installment in a long line of ambitious high-concept plots over the last two seasons, albeit retaining Community's emphasis on emotional truth. In looking at the two halves as a single one-hour episode, the plot veers from the spaghetti Western to the intergalactic wars of, er, the stars. Gatling guns, paintball sprinklers, menacing ice cream company mascots (Pistol Patty, you were Dean Spreck all along?!?!), Han Solo leather vests, and mysterious gunmen all converge into one explosive plot, which culminates in the final study group meeting of the year.

With Pierce's self-expulsion, Annie's curious interest in Abed, and Jeff's self-assuredness returned, the unity that the group had experienced just minutes earlier--as all of Greendale (and a few Cougar Town cast members) celebrated the defeat of their bitter rivals--evaporates into thin air. For a show that's been about communal experiences, about the common goals and shared experiences, it's interesting that the season ends on such a note of fractured friendships: of the group not staying together, of one of its members willingly walking out on the others.

There are no card-based voting systems here, no cries for help, no crawling back to get into others' good graces. Jeff is, for a change, wrong. He's unable to predict what Pierce would do; he's a "father figure" out of touch with his flock. And as that piece of the ceiling plummets to the ground, there's the real sense that the group isn't falling together, but falling apart. And I couldn't be more excited to see what happens next.

What did you think of the season finale, both as an installment on its own and as a full one-hour offering? Head to the comments section to discuss and debate.

Season Three of Community will begin this fall on NBC.

My Dinner with Abed: Emotional Truths and the Lies We Tell Ourselves on Community

It's safe to say that Community will never give you exactly what you think you're getting.

In this case, this week's brilliant and moving episode of Community ("Critical Film Studies"), written by Sona Panos and directed by Richard Ayoade (of The IT Crowd and The Mighty Boosh), seemed to be a spoof of Pulp Fiction. It looked and sounded--from the promos and the information being sent out by the publicity and marketing teams--like Pulp Fiction, so it had to be a spoof of Quentin Tarantino's landmark film, right?

Wrong.

While there were elements from Pulp Fiction in play for Abed's PF-themed surprise party at the diner where Britta works, the episode itself was an astute yet emotional homage to Louis Malle's 1981 film My Dinner with Andre, which is essentially a conversation between two men (Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory) about the nature of reality, of fabricated theatre, and of true and honest experiences as opposed to robotic reactions to popular culture.

This is not what one might expect to find in an American broadcast network comedy series. But that's precisely, as I've argued so many times in the past, what makes Community the smartest and most astute comedy on television today: its innate ability, built into its very DNA, to be infinitely flexible with its format, its tone, and its reference points.

"Critical Film Studies" did that on several levels, giving us a surprise party for Abed that celebrated his love for pop culture and what he deems "cool," which in this case is a Pulp Fiction-themed fete in which the members of the study group dress up as characters from Tarantino's film, attempting to recreate a moment from one of Abed's favorite films.

Abed, however, has a different reference in mind, looking to put himself inside Malle's film by arranging a dinner with Jeff at a restaurant that Abed wouldn't normally pick in a hundred years. While Jeff is initially thrown by Abed's choice of eatery, he goes along with the decision, even though the surprise party he's arranged is getting delayed. But while Abed claims to want to have an honest, real conversation with Jeff, the entire scenario is in fact completely manufactured, itself an homage to a film, even if Jeff doesn't realize what's going on.

(Yes, it's time to cue up Erik Satie's "Gymnopédie No. 1," used here as it is in My Dinner with Andre to full effect, along with the use of voiceover, typically not used on Community.)



Over the course of their dinner, Abed once again plays a character--in this case, it's the erudite "Andre" of Malle's film, waxing philosophical in his chunky cardigan sweater. He's making eye contact, smiling, and engaging with Jeff in a way that he hasn't before. But the conversation that they have isn't one of Abed's normal topics; rather, they plunge into something straight out of My Dinner with Andre, discussing both the nature of truth and lies and debate the artificiality of theatrical constructs (i.e., Chad).

A story about visiting the set of ABC's Cougar Town (mentioned no less than a dozen times throughout the installment) becomes less of an anecdote and more a discussion of the way in which we construct our identities, as Abed shares his experience of being a background extra in a scene with Courteney Cox and the character of Chad that he creates for this split-second of screen time. But there's also a kernel of truth to the discussion here, the belief that Chad has lived more than Abed has, that the experiences he's described of growing up in Cougar Town are in fact more real, more nuanced, more realized than his own.

The lies we tell ourselves are the deadliest, which is something that both Jeff and Abed dance around in their dinner. The scenario constructed here--a man has dinner with a friend he's avoiding, only to be forced to confront some uncomfortable emotional truths--rings true. While Abed may be playing a character, he does manage to get Jeff to reveal his own inner truths as well, admitting that he often calls sex lines and pretends to be fat and recounting a story in which he dressed as a little Indian girl for Halloween and stopped correcting people about his gender after the third house. He just wanted to feel pretty, after all.

Jeff's story reveals both his superficiality but also the insecurity that lurks beneath his polished surface. He's both terrified at the thought of being unattractive, yet fears that he's only loved for his looks. If that's not the definition of real emotional truth, I don't know what is. That it arrives within an episode that's constructed around a high-brow indie film from more than 30 years ago and a framework that involves Pulp Fiction is a testament to the genius of Community's writing staff.

When Abed's Cougar Town scene ends, Chad ceases to exist and Abed "poops" his pants and falls over, according to his Andre-esque story, an example of a spiritual experience that trumps both Jeff's seemingly shallow existence and the "robotic" interplay between Abed and pop culture. It's a moment of both divinity and humanity, of immortality and death itself. The death of the character within is the death of the self.

While the entire sequence sends up My Dinner with Andre, it also serves a larger purpose within the framework of Community itself, where nothing is ever done haphazardly or without purpose. Here, Abed, defined by his limitations, can't bring himself to ask why Jeff doesn't hang out with him anymore in the way that he did the previous year. Instead, Abed is Abed, true to himself and his core motivations and lack of ability to express himself: he creates a scenario out of Malle's film that allows him to play someone else in an effort to get Jeff to connect with him, to open up to him, and to confront the elephant in the room: that their relationship has changed.

Jeff may have gone through the trouble of arranging a surprise party for Abed and tracking down the "authentic" briefcase from Pulp Fiction (complete with light bulb and certificate of authenticity), but what Abed wants is something that neither of them can really give each other: an honest conversation. Yet the artificiality of the set-up does enable just that, as Jeff opens up to Abed to share dark, personal secrets.

So, can something real and genuine emerge from something artificial? Is there truth to be had in fabricated reality? Can a dream of a life be more real than your own? Can a sitcom make you feel and think and see the world in another way? With this and a multitude of other episodes, Community does just that, delivering a world that's both real and fake, genuine and artificial, tragic and uplifting.

The surprise party ruined and the evening seemingly all but destroyed by in-fighting, jealousies, anger, and curiosity, the gang remains at the restaurant to throw Abed a party at the luxe eatery rather than at the diner. It's a triumphant realization of the fact that you can fuse together disparate elements--My Dinner with Andre and Pulp Fiction, these unlikely friends--into a single entity. The joy and spirit of, well, community is seen throughout the closing scenes as Abed receives his gifts and the gang brings the pop culture into the high brow aesthetic of the restaurant. Beautiful, sweet, and funny, it's emblematic of what Community does best, reminding us that being clever and having heart are not mutually exclusive.

Next week on Community, it's a repeat of "Early 21st Century Romanticism," in which Abed and Troy vie for the attention of the college librarian; Britta befriends a student she thinks is gay; Jeff winds up hosting an impromptu party at his apartment.

PaleyFest 2011: Details From NBC's Community Panel

Everybody now: Pop Pop!

Last night marked Community's second time at the annual Paley Festival and the evening, moderated by The A.V. Club's Todd VanDerWerff, was a celebration of the off-kilter NBC comedy and its cast and crew, which came out in full force (save Donald Glover and Alison Brie, who were shooting) for this hysterical and fun session.

The evening began with a screening of this week's upcoming episode of Community ("Custody Law and Eastern European Diplomacy"), written by Andy Bobrow, which featured guest star Enver Gjojak (Dollhouse) as Luka, a friend of Troy and Abed's with whom Britta becomes romantically involved. I don't want to give too much away about the episode--it was hysterical, after all--but I will say that it involves war crimes, kidnapping charges, Chang smoking a pipe, and Kickpuncher III, as well as Gillian Jacobs' Britta creating chaos in her wake and the pregnancy/paternity subplot swirling around Yvette Nicole Brown's Shirley.

In true meta fashion, creator Dan Harmon introduced an introduction to his introduction, before seguing into the screening of "Custody Law and Eastern European Diplomacy." If you've never watched an episode of Community alongside hundreds of other fans, you truly are missing out as the audience roared with laughter and seemed to love this remarkable series as much as I do.

So what did the cast and crew have to say about what's coming up on Community? Let's take a look.

Harmon was loath to spill too many details about what's ahead this season on Community, which--for shame!--still hasn't been renewed for a third season. Still, producers said that they are hopeful for a renewal. As for what's coming up...

"We are going to tell some stories," he said, in true Dan Harmon style. "Shirley's got to drop the papoose."

Meanwhile, we'll see the one-hour season finale "sequel" to "Modern Warfare" that features Lost's Josh Holloway. Executive producer/director Joe Russo said that the installment was a "Sergio Leone homage" and "almost killed" them making it. Harmon and Co. are keeping details about the episode firmly under wraps, however. "When we found out that Sawyer was coming to Greendale, it was like Christmas morning," said Brown, admitting that the entire cast are huge Lost fans.

But Harmon did tease another upcoming episode, a "memory episode," which will be Community's version of a clip show, with 75 scenes, all new, from "episodes that don't exist," according to Harmon. It's their take on the traditional sitcom clip show, but with a twist that only Community could pull off. (This sounded AMAZING.) Brown said that the episode is "rich with things in the background of each scene" and said to pay attention to the details in the scenes.

For his part, Joel McHale joked, "We're doing a parody of Small Wonder and Bridge on the River Kwai," when posed with the same question. But Danny Pudi did spill one detail, as he said that Abed will be doing a critical analysis of Who's the Boss? in an effort to determine once and for all just who the boss really was.

Additionally, he writers will address the issue of whether Pierce is in fact redeemable after his behavior in such episodes as "Advanced Dungeons & Dragons" and "Intermediate Documentary Filmmaking." (If you missed my take on Pierce and Chevy Chase from a few weeks ago, you can read "The Problem with Pierce" here.)

Chase said Pierce just wants to be accepted by the group and that he has the "mind of a 13 year old." "It's so close to who I am," said Chase, who said that he's just playing himself as Pierce. Semi-seriously, I think. "I get one fan letter a week now," he said. "Before I was on the show, I got 2000-3000." (But lest you think that Chase sat back demurely during this panel, that wasn't quite the truth: a gag involving his mic cord occurred within the first few seconds of the panel and a way-too-loud nose blow occurred when Danny Pudi answered a question. When the panel all praised Chase's performance in the Dungeons & Dragons episode, Chase answered, "What's D&D?")

Gillian Jacobs said that a lot of the physical humor comes from her awkwardness as she doesn't have a lot of grace. "It's been really great to go from the girl on the pedestal to 'you're the worst, please leave'!"

About the now famous Christmas claymation episode, Danny Pudi said that he wasn't concerned about all of the depressing stuff in that episode because "it was in clay." But as Pudi began to talk about how surreal it is to be sitting up on stage at a Community panel or have a special airing on Christmas Eve (the claymation episode was repeated that evening), Chase interrupted his answer with the aforementioned nose-blow. (Le sigh.)

Later, Pudi was asked about the "Brown Jamie Lee Curis" line and said, "It's so true! I never realized it!"

Joel McHale said that we will eventually meet Jeff's father, and joked that he's a centaur. But McHale also said that he hopes that Jeff's issues will be explored in Season Three of Community, which led the audience to applaud and cheer. "Much like erosion, it takes a long time for people to change," said McHale of Jeff Winger.

Jim Rash told a hilarious story about the costume fitting for Dean Pelton's recent Uncle Sam costume (or, sorry, his sister's Uncle Sam costume) and said thathe wants to see Dean Pelton's "dirty, dirty" apartment and joked his whole place would be "black-light." Harmon spun the audience a hypothetical plotline in which we'd see the study group at the start of the episode--with Shirley considering eating something else, Troy thinking of growing a mustache--and have the scene interrupted by the Dean and then follow him out and have the whole episode focus on Dean Pelton, only to wrap up at the end with Troy's mustache, etc. (Let's just say that the crowd loved the idea.)

And we will see Dean Pelton's midriff, apparently, as well as more "shirtless Jeff Winger."

There was a huge round of applause for the Community staff writers sitting in the audience as the house lights came up and the writers stood up. Harmon joked that he did a weird "Howard Hughes thing" during the first season, writing alone in his house, but this season he really used his writing staff and understood what can come from team writing and those writer all-nighters. "This season, if you like it more it's because of the writing staff," said Harmon.

Asked for their favorite current television comedies, Ken Jeong said that he loves Parks and Recreation (go, Pawnee!); Jacobs, Brown, and Pudi all love 30 Rock, and Harmon said that the show that makes him laugh the most right now is HBO's The Ricky Gervais Show.

Harmon said Jeff's recent slam of Barenaked Ladies was not a slam against The Big Bang Theory. He honestly had no idea they sang the theme song to the CBS sitcom that airs in their timeslot.

(To the audience member whose question was really just an opportunity to issue Magnitude's "Pop Pop!" I'd like to tip my hat at you.)

In the "That's nice" category, Yvette Nicole Brown's answer about the role Twitter and social networking among the cast and crew of Community. As the others cracked jokes about Brown retweeting Reverend Run quotes Brown said, "This is gonna sound corny but they're called followers and I feel like we should lead them somewhere positive."

Wait, a heartfelt moment among the laughter? It wouldn't be Community without it. Thanks to the cast and crew of Community for a fantastic evening.

Community airs Thursday evenings at 8 pm ET/PT on NBC.

Community: The Problem with Pierce

Viewers of Community have embraced the NBC comedy's ability to explore the boundaries of the single-camera broadcast comedy format, gleefully embarking on adventures involving zombies, outer space, chicken finger-hoarding mobsters, pen-stealing monkeys, and much more.

But what some viewers have had a hard time doing is offering a hug to the show's most dastardly character, Pierce Hawthorne, played by veteran Chevy Chase. In the first season of Community, Pierce often acted as a personification of the study group's id, a childlike man who frequently expressed the things that each of us progressive, modern people have sworn never to think, let alone say out loud.

The problem with Pierce in many ways is that it's become difficult at times to separate Pierce Hawthorne from Chevy Chase. Both men appear to be loud, loutish, and disruptive, prone to being an attention-stealer who often engages in pratfalls in order to grab the spotlight away from one of his costars. (If you've ever attended one of Community's panels, either at the Paley Festival or Comic-Con or the Television Academy, you know exactly what I mean.)

This season, Pierce has been put through the wringer a bit--his mother died, he was injured in a freak trampolining accident, and he became addicted to prescription painkillers--all seemingly in an effort to make the audience sympathize with a character who is so self-centered that he willfully disrupts a suicide-prevention-based game of Dungeons & Dragons.

Given his disruptive influence and ill manners, Time's James Poniewozik pondered why the group continues to spend time with Pierce, saying, "I can deal with it by remembering that the answer is, 'Because Chevy Chase is a cast member on this show.'"

There's a certain kernel of truth to that, all the more fitting because this week's episode ("Intermediate Documentary Filmmaking"), written by Megan Ganz and directed by Joe Russo, utilized the mockumentary style of Modern Family and The Office (and to a lesser extent, the Russo Brothers' work on Arrested Development) to create an aura of docudrama-style reality around Pierce's hospitalization. (You can read my pre-air thoughts about this week's episode here.)

Because Community is meant to be inclusive, there's always been a place at the study room table for Pierce, just as there has been for the socioeconomic and racial diversity at play within the series. Community colleges, after all, represent students from a wide walk of life: young and old, wealthy and poor, black and white. It's a cultural hodgepodge that functions more or less as a microcosm for society itself. Which is why it's fitting that there would be a character of advanced age within the group, even though his presence is often barely tolerated by the other characters.

Which, one could argue, seems to be the case on stage with the cast members and Chase himself. Just as Pierce seemingly loves to destroy the brief moments of camaraderie or happiness among the group, so too does Chevy Chase seem to relish throwing a spanner into the works every time there's harmony in a public forum. Both men can't seem to help themselves, and there is something quite sad about seeing a grown man behave like a child begging for attention. Which is why I can't help but wonder whether the show's writers haven't imbued Community with this sentiment, pushing Pierce to behave more and more outrageously, all in an effort to garner attention from a group of people that don't seem to like him very much.

Scroll down through Twitter and you'll see more than a few people bashing the character of prickly Pierce Hawthorne. Last week's scene with Pierce lying inert on a park bench after an overdose of prescription medication seemed to act as a bit of wish fulfillment for the contingent of Community viewers who want Pierce to keel over. Which made me wonder whether this was just another case of the Community writing staff employing a metatheatrical context to explore the audience's depth of feeling toward this character... or, in fact, the cast and crew's own feelings towards Chase. (Is this episode an outward manifestation of what it's like to work with Chase on a regular basis? Is Pierce's role the very same as that of Chase's on set?)

Despite the issues that Pierce has faced this year, the audience has largely had a hard time feeling sympathetic towards him. Despite the emphasis on his feelings of exclusion this week, trying to find an emotional connection to Pierce is a bit like trying to wring blood from a stone. It's just not going to happen, but in the grand scheme of things and in the emotional world of Community, that's okay.

Pierce as a outward villain has been something that we've seen more of in Season Two of Community than in the show's first season, where the role of the group's antagonist was performed by Ken Jeong's Senor Chang, a malevolent presence who seemed to exist to make their lives hell. This year, with Chang now sidelined as a figure of authority, that role has fallen to Pierce largely and the conflict the group has faced this year has largely been internal in nature, thanks to Mr. Hawthorne.

I would argue that, while I have no love for Pierce (though I did enjoy his brief foray into breath-operated wheelchairs), he's a necessary evil, the mirror that the writers can hold up in front of the characters in order to make them face their innermost fears and insecurities. This week's episode, which found Pierce bequeathing last gifts unto his study partners in a game of "psychological vengeance" forced them to face up to some hard truths. Despite the fact that he's often overlooked, Pierce seems to know the study group better than they know themselves at times.

(I was reminded briefly, of Baudelaire's le flaneur, the detached observer. While that seems a role more well suited for Danny Pudi's Abed, who the episode sets up as the literal eye of the piece (hence the documentary camera), Pierce's insight here into the unseen inner struggles of these characters sets him up as such an observer, though his interference in their lives, via those "gifts," disrupts any detachment he might have. Pierce is determined, it seems, to be not on the outside but the focal point of everyone's attention.)

After all, Pierce's gifts do peel back a layer of onionskin of these characters: he's able to bring to the surface Shirley's insecurities and her holier-than-thou attitude, Jeff's nascent daddy issues, Annie's elitism, Troy's fear of disappointing his idol (pitch-perfect LeVar Burton), Britta's secret selfishness. His "bequeathings" are crucibles by which to test the strength of these individuals. Does the heat make them stronger or do they crack?

Pierce provides a valuable role within the group, therefore. It may not be an honorable one or a particularly sympathetic one, but there's a reason why the show needs someone like Pierce in the mix. While external conflicts can bring a group together, internal conflicts are divisive and damaging. And that, at the end of the day, makes for good television. There's something to be said for not finding each and every character a paragon of virtue, or even someone you'd want to spend time with.

The fact that Pierce's presence has irritated some viewers (even me at times), that he's such a trouble-maker and an antagonistic presence, makes Community that much more naturalistic, in the end. Every rose, after all, has its (Haw)thorne.

Next week on Community ("Intro to Political Science"), Greendale holds student elections in preparation for a visit from the vice president, as Annie, Jeff, Leonard, and Star Burns against one another; Abed befriends a Secret Service agent (guest star Eliza Coupe).