Docu Drama: An Advance Review of Community's "Intermediate Documentary Filmmaking"

Question: What do LeVar Burton, Firefly, and twisted mind games have in common?

Answer: They're all together in one place on this week's sensationally satirical episode of Community ("Intermediate Documentary Filmmaking"), written by Megan Ganz and directed by Joe Russo, which I watched earlier this week. (That was, as you'll learn soon enough, an "explanabrag.")

NBC's Community has already tackled zombie invasions, paintball wars, outer space, and stolen pens with vigor and gonzo spirit intact, so it was only a matter of time before Dan Harmon and his merry band of mischief makers in the writers room would attempt to transform the actual physical format and style of the series for an episode.

In this case, "Intermediate Documentary Filmmaking" does just that, satirizing the mockumentary style of such fellow NBC series as The Office and Parks and Recreation, as Danny Pudi's Abed attempts to make a documentary which shows the study group's reaction to how close Pierce (Chevy Chase) brushed against death itself. Shot docu-style--with all of the talking heads, cutaways, and montages (more on that in a bit) that you might expect--the use of a physical camera in the action here makes sense within the reality established by the series, and the episode itself has quite a bit of fun deflating this particular stylistic device.

As always, I don't want to give away too much about the episode, lest I spoil the experience for the audience. But I will say that the episode serves several functions: it picks up the threads from last week's ending (where Pierce was seen lying on a park bench after overdosing on prescription pills, perhaps in a wish fulfillment scenario out of many a viewers' mind), it challenges the viewer to care about Pierce even as he's behaving in a malicious and cruel manner, and it sets up a number of crucibles by which to test the individual members of the study group.

The latter is effortlessly achieved by the "psychological vengeance" enacted by the (not) dying Pierce Hawthorne, who creates a series of gifts that he bequeaths to each of them from his hospital bed. But these are not mere gifts, but objects that can he use to torment members of the group, who he feels have excluded him and who don't take him very seriously at all. (I'll echo comments made by Joel McHale's Jeff Winger here and say that Pierce's actions this week don't exactly make it easy for them to do so.)

"And so it is bequeathed." The bequeathed items are specific to each of them, targeting a weak spot in their character: Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown) receives a CD ("compact record") said to contain recorded proof that the group talks about her behind her back; Britta (Gillian Jacobs), a.k.a. "Sourface," receives a check for $10,000 with the "pay to the order of" line blank so she can decide which charity to donate it to; Annie (Alison Brie) gets a family heirloom, a diamond tiara ("Are these blood diamonds?!?!") because she is Pierce's "favorite"; Troy (Donald Glover) gets a chance to meet his idol, Star Trek/Reading Rainbow star LeVar Burton; and Jeff is about to be reunited with his long-lost deadbeat dad.

All of these moments are captured by Abed on film and assembled in the editing bay for maximum drama, which means quick cuts, threaded-in reaction shots, staggered zooms, and emotional montages, which overlay "generic" voiceover with random images to give the final thoughts some real weight, according to Abed. (It's a masterful and rather tongue-in-cheek send-up of Modern Family's closing montages.)

But there's a real emotional weight to the episode as well, seeing how each of the characters deal with the challenge that Pierce has created for them. Will they give in to the treachery that he's concocted? Or will they rise above it? Will Shirley listen to that CD? Will Britta be selfish or selfless? What will Jeff say to the father he's not seen in decades?

And just what is Pierce's relationship to the group? After everything he's pulled of late (destroying the gang's attempts to save Fat Neil via the Dungeons & Dragons game), Pierce has become an antagonistic force within the group, a role previously played by Ken Jeong's Chang. But there are questions of integrity and, well, community that Pierce's nature sets up within the show. He's a part of the group but a divisive part and his actions here don't necessarily engender loyalty from them.

I will say, however, that Pierce's most dastardly action within this episode does have an unexpected consequence and perhaps reveal the true relationship he has to the group. Pierce's words--often racist, misogynistic, or just generally ignorant--often force the study group to say things that they wouldn't normally speak aloud, to confront uncomfortable truths or misguided ideas, to respond to questions raised with certainty and accountability. (Even if, after all, refers to Shirley as the group's new "black swan" now that he's dying.)

Keep an eye out for some other high points of the episode: the scene where Jeff and Britta role-play; Troy's reaction to LeVar Burton (and one the weirdest renditions of the Reading Rainbow theme song); Troy and Abed's suicide pact (with the best Firefly reference ever); Shirley's talking head in a janitor's supply closet; and, well, just about all of it. It's an episode that is set entirely away from Greendale and the study room but the sense of community versus isolation, acceptance versus disapproval, play heavily into the action here.

It's an episode that both celebrates and satirizes the mockumentary format (the search for "profound thematic connection"), as well as the messiness of real life, the speed bumps along the way, and the lessons you learn when you least expect them. A bit like Community as a whole, really.



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

Flock of Pegasi: An Advance Review of Community's "Advanced Dungeons and Dragons"

It's said that in writing, as with most things, you shouldn't break the rules until you've mastered them. That is, until you truly understand the logic behind why certain guidelines exist, you shouldn't seek to subvert them.

It's clear to me that the writing staff of Community, operating under visionary creator Dan Harmon, not only understands the rules but relishes the opportunity to throw them out the window, stomp on them, and have Leonard repeatedly run them over in the parking lot.

This is, after all, the same collective that has produced over the course of two seasons such innovative and mind-blowing installments of television such as "Modern Warfare," "Epidemiology," "Contemporary American Poultry," "Cooperative Calligraphy," "Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas," and "Basic Rocket Science," all of which tested the resilience and scope of the American sitcom form.

This Thursday evening, the brains behind Community are at it again with another groundbreaking genre- and format-busting episode ("Advanced Dungeons and Dragons") which tests the limits of live-action network comedy by breaking several cardinal rules of writing over the course of its twenty-odd minutes.

While not as confined as its now-legendary bottle episode ("Cooperative Calligraphy"), this week's episode has few locations other than the study room, a supply closet, and the ubiquitous Greendale hallway and very few guest stars. In fact, it's set almost entirely in the study room once again, but the magic of the episode means that it never feels claustrophobic, but instead sets the stage for an epic battle between good and evil.

Say what?

The plot's precis: Jeff (Joel McHale) feels sorry for Fat Neil (Charlie Koontz), a fellow Greendale student who is down in the dumps and who harbors a love for all things Dungeons & Dragons. Joined by Annie (Alison Brie), an ex-headcase who sees the warning signs of "doom" ahead, the two reach out to the group and concoct a plan to help Fat Neil: they'll host a game of Dungeons & Dragons in order to build up his confidence and save him from self-destruction.

The group bands together, as Abed (Danny Pudi) glides effortlessly into the role of Dungeon Master, Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown) and Troy (Donald Glover) offer their support, and Chang (Ken Jeong) just happens to have been there the whole time. But in their desire to help Neil, they exclude "Pierce the Insensitive" from their little D&D gathering, creating in the process a dangerous enemy that could destroy all of their hard work.

Into this already winning mix of elements, the writers have strewn some tantalizing and perilous details: voiceover narration, the use of a non-visual storytelling device, and empathy for a character that isn't in the study group, and therefore isn't typically contained within the narrative focus.

I don't want to say too much about this fantastic episode, lest I spoil it but I will say that it doesn't make a jot of difference to enjoying the episode whether you've played Dungeons & Dragons before or are a complete novice. The rules of the game are spelled out, multi-sided dice produced, and a nuanced and compelling mechanism unleashed in order to bring the world of D&D to life and make it gripping and exciting over the course of the installment. (No small feat, that.) Dragons, elven maidens, gnome waiters, creepy old naked men comprise the cast of this constructed universe and taverns, villages, and mystical medallions are encountered in turn.

Each of our Greendale regulars has a part to play, an Abed-created character to bring into the mission, ranging from Jeff as warrior "Marrrrrr" and Britta as "Lavernica" to Annie as, er, "Hector the Well-Endowed." Look for a painfully funny montage as Annie describes just what Hector is doing--sans words but with hand gestures--to a beautiful elf maiden as she woos her into giving the gang a flock of pegasi, and for what Shirley calls Chang's "hate crime" in the making.

But even as each has a different role to play, our beloved study group quickly reverts to form: Britta championing the gnome cause in her "needlessly defiant" manner; Jeff as cool and detached as ever; Abed once again in control of an imaginary world; Shirley cooing over the cuteness of story elements; Pierce the thorn in the side of the group, the true outsider whose thirst to belong to the collective means that he will forever spit in the (figurative) punchbowl.

(The fantastic opening sequence--complete with new title music just for this occasion--sums up the characters to full effect and with hilarious detail as it offers descriptors for each of the main characters in keeping with the warrior tradition.)

"Advanced Dungeons and Dragons" isn't just adventure for the sake of adventure; in true Community fashion, there's an underlying emotional core to the episode which manages to be sweet without cloying, touching rather than saccharine. Even as the group strives to save Fat Neil from himself, they have to save themselves as well. There's a reason why these events are unfolding the way that they are, why Pierce is so destructive and insensitive, why Neil is in the predicament that he's in.

But rather than tip the balance of the episode into sentimentalism, the revelations contained therein are true to the spirit of the series and the sense of, well, community that the show has fostered since the beginning.

With "Advanced Dungeons and Dragons," the cast and crew have masterfully pulled this Herculean task off without a single hitch, resulting in an episode that's at times hysterical, at times emotional, and always magical.

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

Top 10 Nontraditional Holiday TV Episodes

Happy Festivus, everyone!

To celebrate today (in addition to the feats of strength and airing of grievances), I rounded up the top 10 nontraditional Holiday television episodes over at The Daily Beast, from Community and Seinfeld to Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Doctor Who. (And, yes, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia's direct-to-DVD special--which just aired on FX for the first time this month--made the list, naturally.)

An aside, I could have filled the entire list with just British television shows, from The Vicar of Dibley and Doctor Who (which both made the list) to Gavin & Stacey, Blackadder, Catherine Tate, Absolutely Fabulous, and about a zillion others.

But I am curious to know: what is your favorite nontraditional holiday episode/special? Putting aside the traditional Rudolph and Charlie Brown Christmas, what are some of the more out there holiday episodes or specials that add that extra spike to the eggnog?

Or make that Festivus aluminum pole shine a little more, anyway?

Year in TV: The 10 Best (and 5 Worst) TV Shows of 2010

It's that time of year when we bid farewell to the last twelve months and start looking toward the future, but it's also a chance to reflect, to catalogue, and to reminisce as well.

My selections for the Ten Best (and, cough, five worst) TV shows of 2010 have now gone live over at The Daily Beast.

The series selected represent the very best that television had to offer the past twelve months and include such shows as Mad Men, Community, Terriers, Parks and Recreation, The Good Wife, Fringe, Justified, Boardwalk Empire, Friday Night Lights, and Modern Family.

It wasn't easy to whittle down the competition to just ten shows as, despite the overall drain in creativity this calendar year, there were quite a lot of fantastic series. (In fact, one of the very best of the year didn't even air on American television at all: Season Three of BBC One's Ashes to Ashes--including its breathtaking and gut-wrenching series finale--would have made this list if it had been open to overseas programming that hadn't aired within the US during 2010. Additionally, Downton Abbey would have made the list but it's set to air in January on PBS, so will be held until the 2011 list.)

As for other runners-up, that category would include (but wouldn't be limited to) such series as Damages, Party Down, Nurse Jackie, Sherlock, Bored to Death, Better Off Ted, Doctor Who, True Blood, Treme, Big Love, Archer, The Choir, Curb Your Enthusiasm, The IT Crowd, The Life and Times of Tim, Luther, and 30 Rock (for the current season, at least).

But now that the list is (finally) live, I'm curious to hear what you had to say:

What's your take on the best of 2010? Do you agree with my picks for the best of the year and the worst? Head to the comments section to discuss, debate, and analyze, as well as share your own best-of list for 2010.

AOL Television's Skype Second Opinion: Community's "Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas"

What did you think of last night's episode of Community?

This week marked another go on AOL Television's Skype Second Opinions, where I connected via Skype to ramble on for a few minutes about this week's episode of Community ("Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas"), which included stop-motion animation, sad quick Christmas songs, actual humbugs, a gorgeous (seasonal) theme song, a trip to Planet Abed (where the atmosphere is 7 percent cinnamon), Christmas pterodactyls, the best Lost gag anywhere, and so much more.

(You can read my advance review of "Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas" from earlier this week over here.)

You can watch the video in full over here at AOL Television or right below.



Community returns with new episodes in January.

Uncontrollable Christmas Cheer: An Advance Review of Community's Stop-Motion Animated Christmas Episode

There's something both innately comforting and deliciously off-kilter about this week's stupendous Christmas-themed episode of Community ("Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas"), which uses the stop-motion animation of holiday classic Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer to offer an imaginative and emotionally resonant episode that explores the true meaning of Christmas (or any holiday, really).

Community has thrived at both satirizing and embracing certain comedic tropes, twisting them together into a malleable and winning format in which anything and everything is indeed possible, from a zombie attack to an all-out paintball war, transforming broadcast network comedy into an infinitely elastic form.

In this case, it's quite easy to accept that the Greendale gang would be portrayed as plasticine personages, as the episode unfolds from the perspective of meta-embracing Abed himself, who claims to have woken up that morning seeing everything in stop-motion animation.

Rather than see this as an adorable eccentricity or some holiday-related mirth, Jeff and Britta decide to get Abed some psychological help (or at least the closest thing: psychology professor Ian Duncan), even as he departs into a world of singing toys and frozen memories.

But this isn't just an out-there episode with no emotional stakes. Quite the contrary in fact.

By utilizing the familiar format of stop-motion animation, Dan Harmon and Co. take the viewer on his or her own individual journey back to childhood, even as Abed himself is forced to contend with some hard truths about growing up. The use of the Rudolph-style animation and seemingly traditional Christmas special storyline belie the true aching heart and bittersweet nature of the installment.

Just as last week's episode ("Mixology Certification") dealt with Troy seeing his friends not as adults but as equals (and just as inherently flawed and human as himself in the process), here Abed learns some valuable lessons about the adults in his life and about the true spirit of the holidays, forging a new tradition out of an old one.

The stop-motion animation isn't superfluous to the story but rather the raison d'etre. There's a reason why both the writers and Abed have chosen this style to tell this particular story, one that fits into both Abed's backstory and the psychology behind his so-called break with reality, embracing a child's fantasy vision of the holidays that is at odds with the truth of his situation.

The result is sweet, funny, magical, and slightly crazy and this winning Christmas special also contains one of the all-time great Lost-related gags ever on television. Our favorite Community characters, here rendered as an assortment of Christmas special archetypes: jack-in-the-box (Jeff), toy soldier (Troy), robot (Britta), wind-up ballerina (Annie), wizard (Professor Duncan), teddy bear (Pierce), baby doll (Shirley), and snowman (Chang). Fittingly, Abed's choice of role for each study group member is deliberate and apt and the gang attempts to decipher his logic in their own way.

Along the way, there are some songs in keeping with the traditional Christmas special theme as each of the cast members gets a chance to sing, with Danny Pudi's Abed offering an array of original holiday tunes. ("Sad, Quick Christmas Song" might be an out of the blue new favorite.) Yes, everyone from Joel McHale and Gillian Jacobs to Yvette Nicole Brown and Alison Brie--whom I heard sing on stage just the other night--join in the Christmas cheer, with a series of alternately adorable, poignant, and hilarious songs.

The result is touching without being treacly, sweet without becoming saccharine, and perfectly within keeping with Community's penchant for fusing together humor and heart in equal measure. By the time the credits have rolled (after an adorable visual that I won't spoil here), one would have to be a Grinch to not to feel that we've been watching a true Christmas miracle in the making.

After all, Christmas is about more than just "Santa Claus and ho-ho-ho, and mistletoe and presents to pretty girls," as Lucy Van Pelt once said. The spirit of Charlie Brown's scrawny little tree is alive and kicking right here.

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

Raising the Bar: Thoughts on Community's Contemplative "Mixology Certification"

Ah, how the child becomes the parent.

Last night's sensational and heartfelt episode of Community ("Mixology Certification"), written by Andy Bobrow and directed by Jay Chandrasekhar, brought us Troy's 21st birthday and took the group out of the study room for a night of debauchery that gave us a glimpse into Shirley's dark past, Annie's home life, Troy's state of mind, and Abed's, um, love of Farscape.

Now in its second season, Community has proven that it's adept at conflating genres and smashing expectations about what's possible within the confines of a broadcast comedy: it's a workplace comedy, thriller, horror survival story, romantic comedy, mystery, buddy comedy. An episode jam-packed with jokes and sight gags can give way to an episode like this one, that's higher on the heart quotient and lighter on overt humor. And that's a Very Good Thing for a thoughtful and contemplative episode like this one.

The series' innate unpredictability gives Community a vital edge over multi-cam comedies; one show can be all things, within reason, given the flexibility of Community's overall premise, the skill set of its writing team and its talented actors, and the absurd nature of the show itself.

That absurdity, granted by creator Dan Harmon, gives the show the ability to be both untethered from reality and emotionally grounded. The situations the gang at Greendale might find themselves in might invite disbelief, but the relationships between these characters and their emotional bonds keep the series from flying off into outer space. (Literally, once.)

This week's episode was no exception, offering us a night at The Ballroom, in which Troy's expectations of his first legal drink were dashed on the rocks when he saw the behavior of his friends influenced by alcohol: Jeff and Britta's squabbling, Annie's attempt to become someone else, Abed's abject loneliness, and Shirley's sad, drunken past. His unsipped seven-and-seven emblematic of a choice he's made.

Jeff and Britta, as previously noted, have served as the heads of Community's family of former strangers, often sliding into their self-determined roles at the drop of a hat. From Britta's censuring of Troy at the episode's start (after convincing Pierce that he owed him for the "cake deposit" for Pierce's non-existent birthday party) and Jeff's tacit approval of said incident, we see a Troy desperate to please his knowledgeable and worldly parents, even as they slip into roles that are less becoming, arguing over which of their local haunts is the better bar. Is it L Street? The Red Door? The fact that both are one and the same--revealed at the episode's end--undermines their authority within the group, at least in Troy's eyes.

Jeff and Britta are not infallible.

That seems to be the takeaway for Troy, as he sees them not as unstoppable forces of nature or as all-knowing parents, but as flawed individuals who know nothing more than he does. As the scales fall from his eyes, we see Troy take that first full step into adulthood as he learns that most important--and heartbreaking--of lessons.

Our parents are just as human and as messed up as we are.

It's that knowledge that pulls us, often kicking and screaming, into adulthood. Troy might be 21 (I loved how the gang worded this Jehovah Witness' birthday cake) but he's realized that his expectations of what that entails and what that means for him have been greatly exaggerated. If a night at the bar means this sort of drunken upset, he doesn't need to have that seven-and-seven, after all. And after a heart to heart with Annie (one of the episode's best scenes), his handling of the unruly "kids" in the backseat of Jeff's car fulfill this trajectory from child to adult. ("Abed, no one likes a tattletale.")

Growing old, it seems, is not what Troy believed it to be. It's not a gateway to coolness, but to just growing old. Often, it seems, without the wisdom that Troy believed his older peers to have.

I mentioned briefly that scene between Troy and Annie, notable for the tenderness of the interaction between Donald Glover and Alison Brie and that heartfelt embrace (a nice callback to the crush Annie formerly had on Troy), and for the fact that we got a further look at where Annie lives, a part of town that everyone acknowledges is rough. (As Brie told me a few months back, that opening shot in the season opener was meant to show Annie's bedroom is right across from an adult bookstore and frequent drug deals.)

Annie's journey in this week's installment show her disconnect from the reality of her situation, her using of Caroline Decker's sold Texas ID to become someone else altogether, a girl from Corpus Cristi with nary a care, a "drifter" who is the opposite of Annie. The more she fantasizes about Caroline Decker's life, the more Annie hopes to dissociate from her own, from the future that she has intently mapped out for herself, from her shabby apartment in the wrong part of town.

Just as Shirley attempted to erase proof of a less-than-perfect past, Annie attempts to eradicate her future, assuming someone else's Texas drawl and their looseness with their future. It's a very un-Annie character that she becomes that forces her to see how she's been running just as much as Caroline Decker, putting her all of her energy into 15-year plans to rigidly run her future life rather than live it now.

Sometimes a drink is just a drink. And yet sometimes it's indicative of something else. That first legal drink, that milestone in everyone's adult lives, marks a major turning point for Troy, one that he walks away from in the end. Not because it means the end of innocence or the loss of one's childhood but because he sees the effects of alcohol on the so-called adults around him. And in that moment, Troy takes one giant leap into maturity that puts him well above his metaphorical parents, Jeff and Britta, and his own mother, seeing her lies for what they are.

Along the way there were laughs, but this episode also brought a somber, introspective quality to the mix, seeing Troy's birthday as not just a festive time of merriment but of change and transformation too.

Kudos to the Community producers for casting the always fantastic Tig Notaro and Paul F. Tompkins in this week's episode, here playing respectively the bartender and Abed's would-be "gay sex" partner. The handling of the scene between Abed and his erstwhile paramour was pitch perfect, with Abed's interest being limited strictly to have found someone he could talk to about "Sci Fi original series Farscape."

In its way, "Mixology Certification" once again pushed the envelope in terms of what Community is able to accomplish, bringing a cable sensibility to its broadcast network roots. It's not often that broadcast comedies can handle such life-changing moments without veering into "very special episodes," yet Community pulled this off remarkably well, delivering an installment that blended together heart, humor, and painful realizations. Not many comedies can do that and yet Community once again manages to make the seemingly impossible look all the more effortless.

I'll raise a glass to that.

Next week on Community ("Abed's Uncontrollable Christmas"), Abed goes on a quest to find the meaning of Christmas after he awakens in stop-motion animation; Jeff and Britta seek help from Professor Duncan after getting concerned about Abed's mental health.

The Daily Beast: "Twitter's TV War"

Twitter should be a tool for audiences to interact with the talent behind their favorite shows—instead, anonymous users heap abuse onto writer-producers for ruining "their" shows.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "Twitter's TV War," in which I speak to Community's Dan Harmon, Bones' Hart Hanson, and Grey Anatomy's Shonda Rhimes about the complicated relationship between access, privacy, and angry fans on the social networking platform.

I'm curious to know what your take is and whether you side with showrunners or fans. What happens when the dialogue turns ugly? Head to the comments section to discuss.

Community Creator Dan Harmon Reacts to Idol Move

Fringe fans aren't the only ones concerned by the midseason schedule unveiled this evening by FOX, which includes the move of American Idol to Wednesdays and Thursdays in January.

The move means that the reality juggernaut, which has seen its ratings deflated somewhat of late, will now air opposite NBC's cult comedy Community. But it's not time to send in the save our show letters just yet.

Creator Dan Harmon, reached by Televisionary on Friday evening, had this to say.

"My reaction: We have nothing to worry about," Harmon told me. "American Idol has a totally different audience. They like popular things."

So there. Viva Greendale.

AOL Television's Skype Second Opinion: Community's "Conspiracy Theories and Soft Defenses"

What did you think of last night's episode of Community?

This week marked another go on AOL Television's Skype Second Opinions, where I connected via Skype to ramble on for a few minutes about this week's episode of Community ("Conspiracy Theories and Soft Defenses"), which included a vast array of conspiracy theories, an incredibly sprawling blanket fort (village?), gunfire, confessions of true love, Dean Pelton, lessons, Professor S. Professorson, fake night school courses ("Learning!" "Reading?" "Introduction to Basics"), and more than I could possibly fit into this wee paragraph. (If you couldn't guess, I loved this week's episode.)

You can watch the video in full over here at AOL Television or right below.



In two weeks on Community ("Mixology Certification"), when the study group convenes to celebrate Troy's birthday, they realize he is actually turning 21 and decide to hit the bars; Jeff and Britta ingest a few too many cocktails and get silly; Shirley gets busy pulling down incriminating photos of herself that are posted at the bar; Annie embraces the identify on her fake ID; Abed delves into conversation with a fellow sci-fi nerd; Senor Chang finds the fresh remains of a birthday cake in the study room and vows to find the group.

Monkey Business: Community's Bottle Episode Shines

If you missed last night's episode of Community ("Cooperative Calligraphy"), written by Megan Ganz and directed by Joe Russo, you missed out on not just a hilarious and accomplished installment but the very best bottle episode ever to air on television.

The search for Annie's missing pen transformed the group into separate individuals, as paranoia and suspicion ripped our community asunder, accusations and frustrations rearing their ugly head as the gang shut themselves into the study room to figure out what fate befell that gel-grip purple pen.

It wasn't about the pen, of course. It was, as I said in my glowing advance review of "Cooperative Calligraphy," about the way in which something insignificant can become something monumental, how a mountain can be made of an anthill, how a pen can become the thing that divides a group. The pen, in this case, is most definitely more powerful than the sword. (And especially scissors, proven here.)

By stripping the show down to its most basic level--the study group--this episode turned the focus on the characters entirely, yet it retained that gonzo spirit that makes for the very best Community episodes, an experimental drive that's felt in the bones of every encounter. Here, it's utilized in the way that the action escalates, how Annie's simple accusation of theft threatens to derail the entire collective itself.

By making the episode about the investigation and the way in which the characters attempt to either shift the burden of blame to someone else or declare their innocence, it offered the opportunity to delve deeper into the character's inner lives, demanding that they empty their pockets and their bags and display to the world the baggage that they're carting around.

For each, just what they had inside the little world they carry around revealed elements of their characters in ways heretofore unseen. I loved that Troy carried around a pillow in his backpack rather than any supplies (something that made him Jeff's hero), that Abed's notebook revealed that he was charting the women's menstrual cycles (hence, why he kept handing Annie chocolate) for the good of the group, that Britta had six condoms and a used q-tip among her possessions... and that Shirley's bag contained physical evidence of a secret.

Shirley's "comically huge" purse has been a stable of Community since the beginning and Yvette Nicole Brown wields the bag like a combination of carry-all, security blanket, and soldier's shield. She's never away from that bag and there are few activities that require her to remove it from her shoulder or lap. But that sense of protection, of keeping her enemies at bay, was brutally ripped away from her, as were her secrets.

Shirley may be pregnant.

The reveal that she was carting around a home pregnancy test (You Know Girl!, a HPT marketed towards black women) not only picked up the dangling plotline from "Epidemiology," in which Shirley slept with Ken Jeong's Ben Chang but also paid off Abed's menstrual cycle gag as well. Cycling backwards, he knows that Shirley couldn't have conceived when she hooked up with her ex-husband (who will be played by Malcolm Jamal Warner) on Labor Day because she was ovulating on Halloween. Cue Troy, who realizes the importance of that nonsensical cell phone call from Chang during the zombie attack.

Troy knows exactly who the father of Shirley's (possible) baby is.

But it wasn't just the truth about Shirley's pregnancy scare that came out of this entire purple pen affair: in fact several truths emerged, including just what Shirley thinks about Britta and Annie deep down inside (or at least in times of stress what emerges), calling them Jezebels and the gang stripped down in more ways than one, removing their clothes to dislodge any concealed writing implements and casting off any artifice. (Hell, even Pierce's leg casts came off, revealing a collection of tongs, Slim Jims, and other impromptu scratching devices.)

But the fact remains that no one in this group would steal from the others. There are bonds of trust, which while tested, are regained by the end of the episode. Jeff is right to think that there is a miraculous explanation for what occurred rather than a mundane one. Why didn't, as Troy suggests, a ghost take Annie's pen? Why isn't that possible, given everything that the group has been through? His improvised ghost story reunites the group, giving Jeff and Annie an opportunity for a stolen smile. The pen is a principle, but it's also a bit of poetry, really.

And then there's the true culprit: Troy's former pet monkey (a.k.a. "Annie's Boobs"), freed by Abed forever ago, who is the villainous magpie here, stealing not only Annie's pens but whatever it can get its hands on: a Troy and Abed in the Morning mug, Troy's student ID, a Greendale Human Being doll, a deflated balloon. It's an explanation that's both in keeping with the gleefully absurd tone of the series and which defies the group's (and the audience's) expectations. There is an explanation in the end and it's just as miraculous and mundane as possible.

(It's worth noting that you can see a tiny monkey hand swipe the pen early on in the episode. As Dean Pelton distracts the group with his adorable puppy--and a promise of a puppy parade on the quad--you can see the paw reach up and grab the pen at the end of the table. Blink and you miss it.)

As a bottle episode, "Cooperative Calligraphy" was truly aces, an opportunity to put an enormous amount of pressure on the group and watch them crack under the strain as well as a display of the innate elasticity of Community's tone and scope. As I said in my advance review, this is the rare show that can give us puppy parades and purple pens, space adventures and zombies. But it's also a show that can give us the funny and the profound, the raucous and the tender, the snarky and the touching in equal measure. These writers, it seems, are not monkeying around.

Next week on Community ("Conspiracy Theories and Soft Defenses"), when Dean Pelton starts checking class schedules, he discovers that Jeff has listed a class that does not exist; Abed and Troy build an elaborate blanket fort.

Bottle Episode: An Advance Review of Community's Exquisite "Cooperative Calligraphy"

It's said that in a murder investigation, there are no secrets. The lives of everyone, from the victim to those around them, are laid bare under the harsh light of scrutiny. If you're concealing something, it will come out.

The same holds true for a different sort of investigation, this time surrounding a missing purple pen belonging to Annie (Alison Brie) on this week's genius episode of Community ("Cooperative Calligraphy"). While the episode is ostensibly about the quest to track down this errant stylus, it's the bonds of the study group that come tumbling down when the finger of suspicion is pointed at each of them.

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the very best bottle episode ever produced.

For those of you who don't know, "bottle episode" is a technical term for an episode of television that's produced in one single location. It cuts down on the bottom line (something studios like quite a lot) as there aren't additional sets, location shots, or typically dayplayer actors either. And it helps balance the budget against an expensive episode (like, say, "Epidemiology") by being relatively inexpensive to produce. On other shows, this might be the episode where the characters get trapped in an elevator or an earthquake/tornado/Justin Bieber concert leaves them unable to leave the basement.

In the case of Community, it's where a seemingly mundane occurrence--the disappearance of Annie's gel-grip purple pen--ripples outwards to rupture the group's collective spirit amid a hot-tempered investigation. Would one of these people knowingly steal from one another? If it was an accident, would the culprit come forward? And why is one pen of such monumental importance?

Which is where "Cooperative Calligraphy" truly shines as the missing pen becomes emblematic of something far greater. As in the best type of bottle episode--and, yes, full use of that terminology is used, unsurprisingly, by Abed (Danny Pudi)--the MacGuffin of the plot isn't what's truly important here. In this case, the lockdown in the study room, an attempt by lead investigator Jeff Winger (Joel McHale) to get to the bottom of the issue, is a device that elevates the circumstances for the group. And when you put an object under such intense pressure, it often explodes dramatically, as it does here.

Look for everything to be swept bare, from the secrets harbored by several players to the characters themselves here as the investigation intensifies. Eccentricities, from Abed's, um, truly inspired behavioral chart of the women, to the larger-than-life handbag carried by Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown) are placed under the microscope. The straw-enabled wheelchair (don't ask) used by Pierce (Chevy Chase)--following last week's trampoline accident--is used for comedic effect, while the holier-than-thou attitude of Britta (Gillian Jacobs) becomes a rallying cry for civil liberties in the face of a fascist state.

By the end of the episode, several uncomfortable truths will have been dragged into the light (no, I'm not revealing just what those might be), friends will turn on one another, bonds will be restored, and time will be given to an exploration of matters most mundane and miraculous. In fact, it's the resolution of the central mystery--brought about by a stray comment made by Troy (Donald Glover)--that unites those two polar opposites in dramatic and hysterical fashion.

"Cooperative Calligraphy" is about more than just what these characters have in their bags (though I do find that to be pretty damn interesting) or where that pen went. It's about how any collective can be derailed by suspicion and how it often takes something seemingly tiny and insignificant to magnify the issues of a group.

In a season overflowing with genre-busting hilarity, it's a reminder that Community can find the comedy in both the high-concept and the seemingly quotidian. In the hands of this inventive and imaginative series' talented cast and crew, zombie attacks and "space" travel can sit side by side with an entire episode about a missing pen. Heart and humor can co-exist quite nicely, thank you very much, as can pain and a puppy parade.

All of which goes to prove that this bottle (episode) is far from empty.

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

Zombies (and Dancing Queen): Community's Awe-Inspiring Halloween Spectacular

As I said last night on Twitter, I didn't think I could love Community more than I already did and yet last night's episode ("Epidemiology"), written by Karey Dornetto (who previously scripted the "Contemporary American Poultry" episode) and directed by Anthony Hemingway (True Blood), proved me wrong entirely.

In the hands of the immensely talented cast and crew of Community, this Halloween episode transcended all boundaries, injecting horror tropes into its comedic trappings without sacrificing the ephemeral spirit of what makes this show unique in the first place. Rather than offer up a dream or a similar faux reality, Dan Harmon and Co. found a way to have an actual zombies attack on Greendale Community College... and still keep the emotional integrity of the series.

While people succumb to an illness related to a highly classified experimental military compound purchased as "taco meat" by a cheap Dean Pelton and the gang attempts to stay alive long enough, the horror gives way to a storyline in which Troy and Abed's friendship is tested. When their initial plan to go to the Halloween party as Ripley and the Alien from Aliens (hell, there was even a cat lurking about the place) falls apart dramatically, Troy attempts to cast off his "nerd" trappings by reinventing himself as a bare-chested "sexy Dracula," complete with a toilet seat cover that reads, well, "Dracula."

Community did it right by keeping the emphasis on the humor and emotion while juxtaposing their bread and butter with the horror of zombies and a constant stream of ABBA (along with the dean's personal voice memos). The spooky opening credits, George Takei's narration, and zombie attacks set to "Waterloo" and "Dancing Queen" all set the tone for this fantastic installment, which ranks up there with "Modern Warfare" as the all-time best episodes of Community.

And they definitely pushed the envelope in terms of the horror. I was on the set for two days while they filmed this episode (in preparation for this story) and was able to see the initial "ZOMBIE ATTACK!" as well as the gang barricade themselves in the study room... and then watched as Annie was pulled through the broken window by a mob of zombies. The constant biting, the mob mentality, the sheer terror of it all were brilliant brought to life here.

It helped that the costumes for the gang were so hilarious. Abed's Aliens costume (with bike messenger helmet), Shirley's Glinda (which I knew right away that's what she was meant to be), Britta's T-Rex (or "dragon turtle"), Chang's Peggy Fleming ensemble, Troy's Ripley... and even Jeff's lazy, lazy David Beckham.

I'm also extremely curious to see whether the writers address the fact that Yvette Nicole Brown's Shirley and Ken Jeong's Chang seemed to have had sex in the women's bathroom during the zombie apocalypse. I expected them to break the scene before Chang actually kissed her but the fact that they slid out of view seemed to point towards some mode of interaction there... and which was seemingly later confirmed by Chang's panicked voicemail message to Troy. Given that Troy is now the only one who knows that something happened between the two, will he keep his mouth shut? Or will Shirley and Chang develop feelings for each other outside of a life-and-death situation?

I was glad to see the Community broke the trend of the black man being the typical horror victim by having Troy outlast the entire gang... and save the day by reaching the thermostat and lowering the temperature in the library. (Or Li-scary, as it were.)

What else did I love? The return of pottery savant Rich (a.k.a. "Chiquita M.D."), Shirley's "end of days" routine, Chang attempting to catch everyone in an act of racism, that cat ("is someone throwing that thing?"), the crawl space, Abed's sacrifice for Troy, the ironic juxtaposition of flesh-eating zombies and ABBA's Greatest Hits, and anything involving Jim Rash's Dean Pelton, really. (What does one do with whole milk if not drink it?)

Ultimately, "Epidemiology" ranks up there with the best of the best of Community, raising the bar of creative spirit for the show and, really, for television comedies in general. Other comedies should wish they could be this gonzo, this hilarious, this experimental. Thanks to Community, the competition all seems a little bit less funny today.

Next week on Community ("The Aerodynamics of Gender"), Abed discovers his inner mean girl; Jeff and Troy embrace a Zen-like spirituality when they uncover a secret trampoline on campus; Pierce lands in the hospital.

AOL Television's Skype Second Opinion: Community's "Epidemiology"

What did you think of last night's episode of Community?

This week marked another go on AOL Television's Skype Second Opinions, where I connected via Skype to ramble on for a few minutes about this week's episode of Community ("Epidemiology"), which included zombies, ABBA, Aliens, Halloween costumes, and experimental military compounds.

You can watch the video in full over here at AOL Television or right below.



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

The Daily Beast: "NBC's Disastrous Season"

Poor Peacock.

NBC continues to flail in last place, with new shows like Outlaw and Undercovers bombing and veterans like The Office eroding.

Over at The Daily Beast, I take a look at the current state of NBC in my latest feature, "NBC's Disastrous Season," in which I offer six possible ways to save the Peacock.

What do you think of NBC's current crop of programming, from highs like Chuck, Community, and Parks and Recreation to lows like Chase, Undercovers, and The Event? Do you agree with my assessment and my suggestions? Head to the comments section to discuss.

You Humble Me: Christ Figures and Meta Films on Community

I've been upfront about my love for NBC's Community, one of the rare gems on the Peacock's lineup at the moment. In a season of such middling programming, it's rewarding to see such an experimental series such as this one continue to mine its format for such riches.

This week's episode of Community ("Messianic Myths and Ancient Peoples") dealt head-on with a hot-button issue: religion. Naturally, it was handled in true Greendale fashion, with the central issue emanating from an Anthropology lesson and some YouTube videos, including what appeared to be a send-up of "Bed Intruder" and a shout-out to creator Dan Harmon's Channel 101 web series Laser Fart about a superhero who could, well, you can figure out the rest.

While the series hasn't shied away from shining a spotlight on some sensitive issues and with the characters' belief systems, this week's installment pitted the faith of single mom Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown) against a viral video created by Abed (Danny Pudi), in which he, Charlie Kaufman-style, enacted a metatheatrical vicious circle about the story of Jesus Christ, whom Abed described as a cross between "Edward Scissorhands and Marty McFly."

Much to Shirley's upset, the story of Jesus became that of filmmaker and audience, circling inwards until everyone was both God and the filmmaker, Jesus and the audience, a parable for our "post-post-modern world." ABED was a far cry from the sort of beatific beats that Shirley herself had imagined and the clash between her and Abed--who donned a long wig and became something of a self-styled spiritual leader while Shirley was cast in the role of a Pharisee--threatened to derail their friendship completely.

But in true Community fashion, this theological dispute became an opportunity to mend fences and, well, turn the other cheek. In destroying Abed's film, Shirley honors his prayer that the film be taken away from him, risking the fury of the student body in order to save her friend. For his part, Abed honors Shirley's original intent and creates a rap-style video with Troy.

But it was their final scene together, the holding of one another's hands and Shirley's simple but poetic line ("You humble me") and its reflection, that put the emphasis on the selflessness of both individuals and the bond between them.

"Messianic Myths and Ancient Peoples" wasn't played as a "special" episode or as anything mawkish or saccharine; rather, the moment felt truly earned and emotionally resonant. I cannot heap enough praise on Brown and Pudi for pulling off this delicate and difficult storyline. The internal struggles of both Shirley and Abed were brought to life with such tenderness and grace that it left me speechless. And it proved that the series need not focus on the entire group--or the nominal leads--in order to work on all cylinders. (It was about time, really, that Shirley and Abed got their time in the spotlight together.)

This week's B-story focused on Pierce (Chevy Chase) being drawn into the orbit of the older Greendale students, the so-called "hipsters" (because most of them have had hip replacement surgery) led by the irascible Leonard (Richard Erdman). I've always been amused by the fact that within the study group, Jeff (Joel McHale) and Britta (Gillian Jacobs) have pushed themselves into the role of father and mother of this collective, especially given that the role of parents wasn't forced upon them but instead they chose to step up to provide that self-styled guidance for the group.

We saw a Britta who attempted to remind Pierce to take his pills and yelled at him when he wasn't eating enough vegetables and a Jeff who was willing to bail Pierce out but wanted nothing more to do with his antics. But like any rebellious adolescent, Pierce's behavior was a cry for help, an effort to act out in order to grab some attention. As much as he might chafe against their overbearing nature, Pierce relishes the fact that someone still cares about him and is looking out for him. Something that Leonard and the others likely don't have anymore. (Leonard in particular.)

The episode then took on the larger dimensions of forgiveness, understanding, and compromise, of family and friendship, of the group dynamic rather than the individual. And of a Last Supper scene where the feast was that of slices of white sandwich bread. Where the story wasn't just about viral videos and old people jokes but about the characters' internal struggles. Which, one could argue, means that the story of the story is the story itself.

All in all, a fantastic installment of Community that was both challenging and hysterical, as well as touching and honest. Well done, Greendale.

Next week on Community ("Epidemiology"), a campus Halloween party takes an unusual turn after Pierce and some students ingest a hazardous substance, which produces zombie-like symptoms in the student body; the gang must save themselves and the school when they are locked in with the infected students. NOTE: next week's episode will air at 8:30 pm ET/PT on NBC.

AOL Television's Skype Second Opinion: Community's "Basic Rocket Science"

What did you think of last night's episode of Community?

This week marked another go on AOL Television's Skype Second Opinions, where I connected via Skype to ramble on for a few minutes about this week's episode of Community ("Basic Rocket Science"), which included an Apollo 13 homage, the KFC Eleven Herbs and Space Experience, butt flags, heroes' welcomes, SANDERS, and more. (You can read my advance review of this episode here.)

You can watch the video in full over here at AOL Television or right below.



Next week on Community ("Messianic Myths and Ancient Peoples"), Shirley consults Abed when she decides to make a religious film, but the two end up clashing after Abed reveals his plans to make one, too; Pierce is recruited by a group of students his own age.

AOL Television's Skype Second Opinion: Community's "The Psychology of Letting Go"

What did you think of last night's episode of Community?

This week marked another go on AOL Television's Skype Second Opinions, where I connected via Skype to ramble on for a few minutes about this week's episode of Community ("The Psychology of Letting Go"), which included Shirley's best line ever, June Bauer (Betty White) discussing Inception with some African tribesmen, the return of John Oliver's Professor Duncan and his feud with Chang, Pierce's mother being inside a lava lamp, Annie and Britta wrestling in some crude oil, and more.

You can watch the video in full over here at AOL Television or right below.



Next week on Community ("Basic Rocket Science"), Dean Pelton asks the study group to clean and refurbish the Greendale flight simulator; after an accidental launch, Abed must navigate a safe return. (You can read my advance review of this episode here.)

The Right Stuff: An Advance Review of Next Week's Space-Fueled Community

Holy Apollo 13 homages! You do not want to miss next week's Community.

Yes, there's still this week's Pierce-centric episode to look forward to, but it was with a certain impish glee that I sat down to watch next week's hysterical and out-there episode of Community ("Basic Rocket Science"), written by Andy Bobrow and directed by Anthony Russo, in which the gang blasts off into to outer space. Well, sort of, anyway.

In true Community style, the gang unwittingly recreates some of the most famous moments from Apollo 13 without actually leaving the earth's atmosphere. It's a masterful and bizarre installment revolving around Greendale's space (simulation) race with their bitter rivals, City College, which is planning to announce its own flight simulator.

Lest Greendale be turned into a parking lot for the rapidly expanding City College, Dean Pelton (Jim Rash, here at his finest) launches a scheme of his own, one involving an old and seriously battered Winnebago, some childhood memories for the Greendale gang, and some gut-busting Kentucky Fried Chicken product integration. (Think "Eleven Herbs and Space" and a HAL-like computer mentor courtesy of Atari.)

I don't want to spoil too much of this deliciously madcap episode, which flies by at light speed, but I will say that the situation that befalls the Greendale study group is a dire one as they lose control of the flight simulator (let's say that it accidentally launches) and are taken on a dangerous journey while facing some internal conflict among the group members.

Will Troy prove that he has what it takes to be the leader? Will Pierce murder Troy? Will the claustrophobic conditions do them all in? And just why is everyone angry at Annie (Alison Brie)? I'm not telling, but I will say that Annie has a distinct agenda of her own and the mission--getting back to Greendale safely--will have repercussions on Greendale itself... while bringing the group back together.

This wouldn't be a true Apollo 13 homage without some ground control drama and Jim Rash's Dean Pelton and Danny Pudi's Abed (here subbing for Ken Mattingly) man things back at the college campus. Yes, just like in Apollo 13, someone gets left behind and the man who was supposed to be on that rocket flight--and knows the system inside out--is stuck on the ground... and it's up to Abed to get everyone back safely, while aboard the Kentucky Fried Chicken Eleven Herbs and Space Bus, all hell is breaking out.

What follows is a worthy successor to last season's "Contemporary American Poultry," a pop culture-laden thrill ride that cleverly leverages a particular film to comedic effect, recasting Greendale's inhabitants as participants in a larger read of the zeitgeist. The episode itself is filled with nice touches: the slo-mo group walk, Dean Pelton's map ("those aren't thumbs"), Abed's cigar-chomping, the intercom system, the power-rerouting suggestion by Ben Chang (Ken Jeong), the intense college rivalry with City College, a hero's welcome at the press conference, and, yes, even those Kentucky Fried Chicken references.

My only complaint? This winning episode was so swiftly paced that it felt extremely short. If ever there was a candidate for an episode super-sizing, it was this one, as "Basic Rocket Science" could have done with an elongated format. Personally, I was hooked on the story and gladly would have stuck around for another 20-odd minutes. But maybe that's the key to Community's success: its inherent weirdness leaves the viewer wanting more each week.

Ultimately, you'll want to wave your own butt flag by the time the credits roll.

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

AOL Television's Skype Second Opinion: Community's "Accounting for Lawyers"

What did you think of last night's episode of Community?

This week, another go on AOL Television's Skype Second Opinions, where I connected via Skype to ramble on for a few minutes about this week's episode of Community ("Accounting for Lawyers"), which included Annie chloroforming a janitor, the Heather Pop and Locklears, another glimpse at Ben Chang's creepy innermost thoughts, Troy and Abed's latest caper, an amazing tag, and more.

You can watch the video in full over here at AOL Television or right below.



Next week on Community ("The Psychology of Letting Go"), the group attempts to comfort Pierce when his mother dies; Professor Bauer takes a leave of absence and Professor Duncan attempts to take over her Anthropology class.