Disclaimer: I went for a run this morning, and story analysis is the kind of nerdy stuff I think about on a run. So … yes. I’ve thought about this way too much. Like, WAAAAY too much. Also, this post assumes that you’re familiar with Community. So … if you’re not, here’s an unrelated one-minute video with beautiful animation.
I’ve been re-watching NBC’s Community lately and loving it … mostly. But there’s been a growing gap between the potential of the show and its delivery, which I’d like to briefly address with a possible solution.
The Potential
Community is one of the best-named shows on television, being set at a community college, but really being about a community of people, and all of the struggles and joys that go with deep, meaningful, and complicated relationships. The writing is brilliant, the characters are rich, neurotic, and well-developed, the storylines are original or so referential that they become original all over again. It’s a really great show. And the best part of it is the suggestion that broken, flawed people, can find solace and family with other broken, flawed people, no matter how crazy or stupid they may be. That’s a great premise for a show.
The Problem
For all that, though, the brokenness of some characters is in some way validated, celebrated, or dignified, while other characters have been sliding downhill into a bottomless trash-chute of “You’re the worst” jokes. Yes, Pierce and Britta, I’m looking at you.
Pierce has always been the target of easy-jokes for the group, the “we’re laughing at you” guy. So for Pierce, there’s nothing new here, except for the fact that his character hasn’t developed much. He’s had moments of insight, but he’s not really any more accepted by the group now than he was in the past, and although they count him among their friends, you get the feeling that the only thing that would really be missing fromCommunity if Pierce left the show would be that outcast character. (Enter Chang, Starburns, or any other of the endless list of self-haters Greendale has to offer.)
Pierce has been given moments of insight, but they’re few and far between. His high point, as far as I’m concerned, came in “Beginner Pottery,” when he was the one giving this show-ending speech to Jeff:
Jeffrey, when I was born I got my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck, both arms, and one of my ankles. Mom said that there came a point when the doctors stopped delivering me and just started laughing, heh. I mean, if I ever let being bad at something stop me, I wouldn’t even be here. That thing some men call failure? I call Living. Breakfast. And I’m not leaving till I’ve cleaned out the buffet.
This is perfect. It’s authentically Pierce, it’s insightful, and it’s full of honesty and gusto. I’d love to hear more of this from Pierce. But no matter how much Pierce would like things to be otherwise, he’ll never be a father figure to Jeff, and he’ll never be the wise mentor of the group. He’s too “old, crazy, and racist” for that. So instead he’s relegated to increasingly minor roles of buffoonery and lame failure.
That’s Pierce. But what about Britta?
Britta started off being so cool that Jeff invented the study group to get her attention and keep it, at least for a little while. But at some point (I’m not sure which episode, exactly), the writers decided that Britta was at her best when she was at her worst — lame, irrelevant, self-hating, failing. She’s gone from the belle of the ball to the one who causes Dean Craig Pelton to complain about a musical, “Oh, Britta’s in this?”
All of this is okay — I understand that these characters are all flawed, and that Jeff is the one who loves himself in the group, so Britta’s self-loathing balances things out. Also, a romance between Britta and Troy has started up, which is all well and good, but is still fairly exclusive and keeps the focus on Britta’s lameness, as the writers have been handling it so far.
Bottom line, she’s become one-note lately, with everyone groaning every time she opens her mouth (Troy excepted, sometimes), in exactly the same way that they do when Pierce speaks up. And therein lies my solution…
The Solution
It’s a well-established fact that Britta has terrible taste in men, and likes jerks. It’s clear that Pierce is a jerk, and that he wants someone to care for, and to care about him.
DON’T WORRY. I am not about to suggest that Britta and Pierce get together. Calm down.
I do, however, think that the show would have a very strong thread added to it if those two — whose screen time together has been really limited so far — developed a father-daughter relationship. Britta would start out trying to be nice, Pierce would be a clown, but in the end, maybe Britta is so messed-up that Pierce would actually have some comforting words for her. Pierce is arguably the most confident person in the group, and his confidence could shelter and help Britta with her constant self-loathing and doubt.
They’re polar opposites enough for it to work on this show. Who’s a less likely father figure for the anarchist rebel than the corporate millionaire? This is exactly Community‘s speed, and — frankly — I think both Britta and Pierce could do with a little more community in the group.
The Problem with the Solution
There are a couple of problems here. First, it’s none of my business what happens in the show, and the writers are gonna do what they want to do anyway, so this is all just an academic exercise in character study and story analysis.
Second, the writers are working on this relationship with Troy (which still leaves Pierce out in the cold), so it’s unlikely they’d do both of these things at once.
Third, with Dan Harmon leaving the show, if anything happened to make Pierce less the butt of jokes and more relatable, the fan base would scream bloody murder that Harmon’s vision for the show was being compromised. But, honestly, if Harmon’s vision was to have one character who’s just a total loss, I think that vision could do with a little compromising.
Conclusion
In conclusion, I should probably spend my running time thinking about how to solve world hunger or do my job better or something clever like that. Instead, I find myself worrying about the personal politics of an imaginary community college study group. That speaks volumes for the show’s power, and the power of good story and characters. Whatever happens next season, though, I’d love to see the potential of the show fulfilled a little more, and every single broken and flawed character have someone care about them.
Including crazy old racist men and girls who “Britta” things.