Before you judge Dan Harmon, know this: The man has done terrible things in the name of comedy.
In his five-minute Web shorts for the ahead-of-its-time site Channel 101, Harmon has played sidekick to an underwear-clad Jack Black, farted lasers as the world's least likely superhero, and pretended to be Hannah Montana, complete with a blonde wig and a bright yellow mumu. (You probably don't want to watch that last link at work, or while eating, or, you know, ever.) But no matter how absurd the situations he's put himself and others in, Harmon's consistently demonstrated a rock-solid understanding of the fundamentals of good writing.
I'm glad to see that moving up to the network big leagues hasn't changed that. Community, Harmon's new series for NBC, may be less outrageous than his Channel 101 skits, but it's no less funny or well-scripted. The pilot never actually made me laugh out loud, but its clever characters, fun performances, and witty dialogue had me grinning throughout.
In his five-minute Web shorts for the ahead-of-its-time site Channel 101, Harmon has played sidekick to an underwear-clad Jack Black, farted lasers as the world's least likely superhero, and pretended to be Hannah Montana, complete with a blonde wig and a bright yellow mumu. (You probably don't want to watch that last link at work, or while eating, or, you know, ever.) But no matter how absurd the situations he's put himself and others in, Harmon's consistently demonstrated a rock-solid understanding of the fundamentals of good writing.
I'm glad to see that moving up to the network big leagues hasn't changed that. Community, Harmon's new series for NBC, may be less outrageous than his Channel 101 skits, but it's no less funny or well-scripted. The pilot never actually made me laugh out loud, but its clever characters, fun performances, and witty dialogue had me grinning throughout.
Joel McHale is Jeff, a hotshot lawyer whose knack for lying
unfortunately extends to his college degree. When his bogus diploma
comes to light, he's exiled to community college to earn a real one, or
stay disbarred forever. That he promptly attempts to start scamming his
way through this new ordeal somehow doesn't make his character less
endearing. McHale's a fairly charming guy with good comic timing, and
since Jeff's selfishness ultimately harms no one but himself, it's easy
to root for him -- and simultaneously enjoy watching his plans go
horribly awry.
Jeff immediately sets his sights on scoring with Britta (Gillian Jacobs), a foxy coed who's shrewder than he knows. He invites her to a bogus "study group" for Spanish class -- never mind that he knows nothing about Spanish, and is equally unclear about the mechanics of this whole "studying" thing. But she turns his gambit against him by inviting a motley cadre of fellow students along. Suddenly, his attempt to get into her pants has become an amusingly escalating battle of wits, pitting his ability to b.s. against her ability to see right through it.
For a show about a truly rotten guy, Community is surprisingly generous and big-hearted. It's got real sympathy for the oddballs and losers who crowd into Jeff's study group. On the surface, they may be slightly delusional, but underneath, they're all trying to make amends for screwing up their own lives.
While some new ensemble shows neglect the more interesting corners of their casts in favor of lavishing love on the pretty people -- ahem, Glee -- everyone on Community gets at least a brief moment to shine, and an interesting, well-rounded character to play. And it's funny and delightful to see a genuinely diverse bunch of characters bounce off each other in unexpected ways. I particularly liked the unlikely camaraderie that develops between Chevy Chase's sleazy, aging tycoon and Donald Glover's ex-football hero.
There are a lot of reasons why Community works. The scene-stealing prowess of Danny Pudi, as the deeply Aspergers-afflicted Abed, doesn't hurt; nor does the always funny John Oliver's recurring role as Jeff's friend on the faculty. But ultimately, I liked the pilot best for where it takes Jeff by the end of the episode. Seeing him realize that he wants to be a better person, even if he isn't sure exactly how to do so, is surprisingly moving.
Dan Harmon may have done terrible things in the name of comedy, but Community isn't one of them. Sweet, clever, and truly funny, it's a worthy addition to the likes of The Office and 30 Rock, and I hope it enjoys their same level of success.
Absolutely no one wears an ill-fitting mumu -- we hope -- Thursday nights at 9:30 ET on NBC.
Jeff immediately sets his sights on scoring with Britta (Gillian Jacobs), a foxy coed who's shrewder than he knows. He invites her to a bogus "study group" for Spanish class -- never mind that he knows nothing about Spanish, and is equally unclear about the mechanics of this whole "studying" thing. But she turns his gambit against him by inviting a motley cadre of fellow students along. Suddenly, his attempt to get into her pants has become an amusingly escalating battle of wits, pitting his ability to b.s. against her ability to see right through it.
For a show about a truly rotten guy, Community is surprisingly generous and big-hearted. It's got real sympathy for the oddballs and losers who crowd into Jeff's study group. On the surface, they may be slightly delusional, but underneath, they're all trying to make amends for screwing up their own lives.
While some new ensemble shows neglect the more interesting corners of their casts in favor of lavishing love on the pretty people -- ahem, Glee -- everyone on Community gets at least a brief moment to shine, and an interesting, well-rounded character to play. And it's funny and delightful to see a genuinely diverse bunch of characters bounce off each other in unexpected ways. I particularly liked the unlikely camaraderie that develops between Chevy Chase's sleazy, aging tycoon and Donald Glover's ex-football hero.
There are a lot of reasons why Community works. The scene-stealing prowess of Danny Pudi, as the deeply Aspergers-afflicted Abed, doesn't hurt; nor does the always funny John Oliver's recurring role as Jeff's friend on the faculty. But ultimately, I liked the pilot best for where it takes Jeff by the end of the episode. Seeing him realize that he wants to be a better person, even if he isn't sure exactly how to do so, is surprisingly moving.
Dan Harmon may have done terrible things in the name of comedy, but Community isn't one of them. Sweet, clever, and truly funny, it's a worthy addition to the likes of The Office and 30 Rock, and I hope it enjoys their same level of success.
Absolutely no one wears an ill-fitting mumu -- we hope -- Thursday nights at 9:30 ET on NBC.
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