TMC
10-24-2021, 03:08 AM
https://jacksonupperco.com/2021/10/20/the-ten-best-laverne-shirley-episodes-of-season-three/
Laverne & Shirley’s third season was the first of two consecutive years as the country’s most-watched show, a point of trivia that reveals just how popular Two’s fixation on easy-going slapstick had made the series, serving as a correctional tonic to the ’70s’ earlier, more serious efforts. Given this quick success, it’s no surprise that Three is largely a continuation of Two, only now the ensemble has shed Carole Ita White’s Rosie, who initially portended great story possibilities, only for them to never actually materialize (meaning she’s not as missed as you’d think), and the novelty of knowingness has lost some of its shine — not significantly or unsurprisingly, because this happens to every sitcom, particularly idea-driven ones that are reliant on the freshness of their episodic notions to spark a needed type of comedy, but enough for the fun of last year’s self-discovery to evolve into the fun of simply understanding the series and what it does best, evidenced by the fact that almost every installment here makes time for a big physical centerpiece where the leading ladies shine. (Indeed, the Lucy parallels this season are as strong as ever — we’ll point them out below!) Three is therefore the most reliable for the show’s ability to regularly offer what we want from Laverne & Shirley — specifically, the aforementioned broad, mostly physical comedy, which is now increasingly surrounded by occasionally sappy, but at this point, anticipated and identity-informing “heart,” sentiment that hopes to give a sweetness to the silliness and provide an elemental continuity to the central relationship that’s not imparted by the characterizations alone, for they remain, as before, relatively vague, unrealistic, and not utilized well within story. To wit, while most episodes clear space for a nice moment that reinforces Laverne and Shirley’s friendship as the series’ emotional core, which is thus narratively helpful as a dramatic center, they still can’t handle heavier, human stories that ask for a lot of emotional support, because this relationship, like their characters, is more of a generic construct than an individually and consistently crafted dynamic — meaning, when it, or they, are tasked with supplying dramatic heft as opposed to comedic froth, they usually fall short, for the series hasn’t built them well enough to do this, and definitely not in plot.
Laverne & Shirley’s third season was the first of two consecutive years as the country’s most-watched show, a point of trivia that reveals just how popular Two’s fixation on easy-going slapstick had made the series, serving as a correctional tonic to the ’70s’ earlier, more serious efforts. Given this quick success, it’s no surprise that Three is largely a continuation of Two, only now the ensemble has shed Carole Ita White’s Rosie, who initially portended great story possibilities, only for them to never actually materialize (meaning she’s not as missed as you’d think), and the novelty of knowingness has lost some of its shine — not significantly or unsurprisingly, because this happens to every sitcom, particularly idea-driven ones that are reliant on the freshness of their episodic notions to spark a needed type of comedy, but enough for the fun of last year’s self-discovery to evolve into the fun of simply understanding the series and what it does best, evidenced by the fact that almost every installment here makes time for a big physical centerpiece where the leading ladies shine. (Indeed, the Lucy parallels this season are as strong as ever — we’ll point them out below!) Three is therefore the most reliable for the show’s ability to regularly offer what we want from Laverne & Shirley — specifically, the aforementioned broad, mostly physical comedy, which is now increasingly surrounded by occasionally sappy, but at this point, anticipated and identity-informing “heart,” sentiment that hopes to give a sweetness to the silliness and provide an elemental continuity to the central relationship that’s not imparted by the characterizations alone, for they remain, as before, relatively vague, unrealistic, and not utilized well within story. To wit, while most episodes clear space for a nice moment that reinforces Laverne and Shirley’s friendship as the series’ emotional core, which is thus narratively helpful as a dramatic center, they still can’t handle heavier, human stories that ask for a lot of emotional support, because this relationship, like their characters, is more of a generic construct than an individually and consistently crafted dynamic — meaning, when it, or they, are tasked with supplying dramatic heft as opposed to comedic froth, they usually fall short, for the series hasn’t built them well enough to do this, and definitely not in plot.