One After Another
I watch shows differently than most people. Some series only make sense if you consume them in bulk—one episode after another, whole seasons at a time. Not one per week like that’s supposed to happen. When you watch that way, the characters come alive in a different way. You’re inside their world for hours at a stretch. The relationships breathe. Everything compounds, and by the end you’re completely wrecked.
I’ve fallen hard for a few shows that do this thing perfectly. They’re all different kinds of good, but they all work best when you disappear into them.
Community is built around a group of broken people at a community college, and it’s genuinely one of the few shows that gets better every single episode. You’ve got Jeff Winger as this arrogant ex-lawyer, Britta who is exactly as much of a disaster as she seems, Abed who is something else entirely. By the third or fourth episode you’re already obsessed. Ken Jeong as the insane Spanish teacher is legendary. The paintball episodes are basically traditions at this point. The show is packed with film and TV references that land so perfectly you’ll actually fall backward off your chair from laughing. NBC canceling this show would be genuinely rage-inducing.
30 Rock starts as a story about saving a failing NBC show called The Girlie Show,
which sounds dry until you get into it. Liz Lemon and her new boss Jack Donaghy hire a scandal-magnet movie star named Tracy Jordan to inject new life into the program. What makes it work is the same thing that makes Community work—the characters are genuinely dysfunctional and weird in ways that feel real. Tina Fey’s actual experience in TV is all over the show. Nothing feels polished or fake. It’s just smart people being completely insane.
Louis C.K.’s comedy is probably the most direct and funny stand-up you can find. The guy gets on stage and talks about his gut, his kids, fucking, pancakes, whatever, and you just destroy yourself laughing. The show Louie takes pieces of his act and builds everyday situations around them—things that could happen to anybody, except they’re happening to someone who isn’t normal at all. It’s not for everyone. If you’re squeamish about anything, you’ll probably hate it. But if you can handle it, it’s singular.
Modern Family is this thing that got so many awards it barely needs introduction, but it’s worth talking about. It follows three American families through that Office-style mockumentary format, and the comedy comes from how incompetent and clumsy these people are at basic existence. Phil and Claire and everyone else just bumbling through life. You have to sit with it for a while before it clicks, but once it does, it sticks.
Wilfred is only one season so far and ends on what might be the most infuriating cliffhanger ever made, but it’s the perfect argument for watching shows all at once instead of parceling them out. It’s adapted from something Australian and it’s a dark comedy about a guy and his dog, except the dog is the worst possible creature—cruel, constantly fucking with him, shoving him toward drugs and alcohol. But somehow it also saves him? You end up hating Wilfred and needing him at the same time. And then it just ends. You sit there furious and completely empty.
That’s what these shows do to you when you let them. That’s why you watch them in one go.