Comedy ought to be the perfect medium in which to expose society’s hypocritical shaming of a trend that’s considered a sign of the times.
It asserts that one sublime performance is enough to make the whole toilsome collaborative process worth it.
That Enlightened’s propagandist and activist message is tinged with irony only makes it more perfectly tooled to our times.
Unlike many soap operas, Deception’s murder mystery isn’t an engine that drives the plot; it’s, quite decidedly, the plot in and of itself.
Portlandia’s willingness to expand the scope of its satire has ultimately led to something more sustainable, if a little less local.
With its rapid one-liners often coming in at under 140 characters, 30 Rock is the perfect comedy for our time.
Parks And Recreation doesn’t deal in jokes so much as memorable slogans that perfectly encapsulate character.
While its offhandedness continues to lend it a sort of sloppy charm, it also betrays the show’s fear of its own inherent weirdness.
If the characters sometimes speak as though they’re trying to determine the theme of the film, one can hardly blame them.
The show’s villains have more potential for development as their backstory comes into focus and their motives become clearer.
Its knack for extracting quiet beauty from all the mayhem lends Boss’s best scenes the precision and artistry of a monstrous ballet.
Its greatest act of public service is the outrageously comforting notion that honest and humane politicians might actually exist.
Much like its intellectually brilliant but absent-minded protagonist, it seems to file away storylines only to move on and forget where they were.
The real stars of the series are the misfits who circle Nancy’s erratic orbit.