Small Screen Gasms: ‘Community’ and ‘Spaced’
Sgt. Angle Reporting for Duty!
Today’s Cinegasm has been invaded by a TVgasm. Thanks for tuning in! (pun#1)
Like most of you (we can hope) I’ve been visiting NBC’s Community weekly since it’s premiere last season. The show (about six misfits attending community college who form a study group) has remained consistently entertaining, thoughtful, and hilarious through seasons one and two (its’ current season). What allows Community to stand out from the rest of American sitcoms is the recurring use of thematic lessons and examinations of American culture, hidden beneath the bitter, selfish existence of Jeff Winger (Joel McHale) and the rest of the group.
Community’s more recent episodes have included plots and subplots revolving around homophobia, drug addiction, unplanned pregnancy, marijuana, alcoholism, divorce, religious exploitation, bullying, and loneliness & suicide. Other “one-off” episodes featured a zombie attack (Halloween), a Christmas Claymation episode, and simulated journeys on a boat and in a spaceship.
The “Advanced Dungeons & Dragons” episode of two weeks ago stands out as one of the finest TV moments from any network this season. The episode began with a Lord of the Rings–like parody of the introduction of Fat Neil, an obese student who was given the unfortunate moniker and had fallen into loneliness and depression. The group decides to play a game of D & D with Fat Neil to remind him that there are people who care about him, and the episode ends with Fat Neil turning to a more confident, happier “Neil”. The story was a touching experience, well-disguised in parody and absurdity, and this blog points out some darker undertones of the episode.
I wanted to direct you to watching Community in the future, if you haven’t already caught up, because it’s fast emerging as America’s overdue equivalent of the infamous, fantastic, British comedy: Spaced, created by Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, and Jessica Stevenson.
Spaced is about a group of tenants living in a flat house as they wind their way through everyday life. The main characters, Daisy and Tim, are twenty-somethings with nothing specific in their future but day-jobs and big dreams of success (one as a writer, the other as an artist). Other neighbors include an eccentric artist, a much older and promiscuous landlady, and a gun-toting war monger who is Tim’s best friend. The series only lasted 14 glorious episodes, and is known for its’ cinematic style of filming, numerous film and television references, and clear parodies in many of their storylines — Fight Club, Robocop, Star Wars, to name a few.
There was a pitiful attempt to adapt Spaced into an American series by McG, but thankfully it fell apart. Lucky for us that Community is created by Dan Harmon, who is miles ahead of McG’s sense of humor or storytelling skills. Community also involves twenty-somethings, in search of their own futures with their big dreams not far behind, and even a few characters who’ve left their day-jobs (either of their own accord or against their will) to become part of a smaller, more tight-knit family.
One of the closing lines of Spaced states: “they say the family of the twenty-first century is made up of friends, not relatives.” This thematic line of thought rings true in countless American sit-coms. None of them so eloquently, or meaningfully, as Community does (close seconds are Scrubs, Friends, even Seinfeld… but only Scrubs comes close in the use of parody and poignant moments).
One of my gripes, though, is the length of the seasons on network television. Imagine, if you will, if shows like Community shortened their seasons to 12 episodes, or even 18 (to stretch it). More time could be spent writing out of character rather than to fill commercially planned timeslots. The reason British television, HBO, and AMC series are so great and wonderful is because of the extended hiatus, doubling the amount of time the producers can spend developing each episode as if it were a mini-movie. Spaced season 2 was filmed over a few weeks (all seven episodes) as if it were really a long movie. This method kept the outcome tight, focused, and more entertaining. Never does Spaced have a moment in an episode that feels like filler.
The other bone I have to pick with Community is the current state of Chevy Chase’s character Pierce. An old millionaire with a curmudgeony attitude, Peirce needs to be pulled back a bit with his comments and off-color insults. I pity him, especially at the end of last week’s episode, alone on a park bench hopped up on drugs, but I want to get the feeling he’s a better man than what we’ve been shown recently.
Ah well, I can comfort myself by looking at this:

Happy viewing, see you next week…
You are dismissed!
Sgt. Angle



















