TMC
02-08-2022, 03:20 AM
https://jacksonupperco.com/2022/02/08/__trashed/
Season Three finds the novelty of the series’ “modified family” premise — the added “wrinkle” to a traditional domestic design — no longer able to provide as much satisfying story as it had in years past. Yes, it’s certainly more present than in any of the seasons ahead, and Three thus compares favorably to over half the run, but this inevitable trend is already too evident, and that’s to the series’ detriment, for remember, it’s also seemingly unwilling to consistently use its otherwise decently defined characters to help push story (as the necessary heightening from narrative clashes might make them less believable), and accordingly, the premise has been the only reliable part of the “situation” that could be counted upon to reflect the series’ identity in weekly plot. Oh, sure, there’s also the relationship between the two leads, which, as we saw last week, has sort of become a proxy-premise — a focus that the show is hoping can distract from its dwindling ability to write for the “modified family” concept — but, as always, without strong characterizations via juxtaposition, no relationship can itself be fruitful for episodic story. So, Three props up their bond but is still forced to engage ideas that have little to do with them, their relationship, or the premise, and, like traditional domestic plots that don’t acknowledge the unique “wrinkle,” such externally derived notions are seldom ideal, for they’re not predicated on anything specific to Kate & Allie. At best, they might reiterate the series’ sense of literal realism admirably and/or showcase the two stars, who are as great as ever, despite not getting material as humanity-affirming as before… Speaking of which, when Three is not booking shamelessly self-important VSEs (see: Jennie gets sexually harassed by her boss, Chip befriends a developmentally challenged man, etc.), it’s aggrandizing story in the other direction, employing broader, bolder comic ideas that allow for, overall, more laughs than we saw in Season Two. But this, of course, is a double-edged sword, for while we want this show to be funnier to fulfill the comic objective inherent to the genre, when the yuks largely come from ideas that aren’t explicitly linked to the situation, they feel insubstantial and extraneous.
Season Three finds the novelty of the series’ “modified family” premise — the added “wrinkle” to a traditional domestic design — no longer able to provide as much satisfying story as it had in years past. Yes, it’s certainly more present than in any of the seasons ahead, and Three thus compares favorably to over half the run, but this inevitable trend is already too evident, and that’s to the series’ detriment, for remember, it’s also seemingly unwilling to consistently use its otherwise decently defined characters to help push story (as the necessary heightening from narrative clashes might make them less believable), and accordingly, the premise has been the only reliable part of the “situation” that could be counted upon to reflect the series’ identity in weekly plot. Oh, sure, there’s also the relationship between the two leads, which, as we saw last week, has sort of become a proxy-premise — a focus that the show is hoping can distract from its dwindling ability to write for the “modified family” concept — but, as always, without strong characterizations via juxtaposition, no relationship can itself be fruitful for episodic story. So, Three props up their bond but is still forced to engage ideas that have little to do with them, their relationship, or the premise, and, like traditional domestic plots that don’t acknowledge the unique “wrinkle,” such externally derived notions are seldom ideal, for they’re not predicated on anything specific to Kate & Allie. At best, they might reiterate the series’ sense of literal realism admirably and/or showcase the two stars, who are as great as ever, despite not getting material as humanity-affirming as before… Speaking of which, when Three is not booking shamelessly self-important VSEs (see: Jennie gets sexually harassed by her boss, Chip befriends a developmentally challenged man, etc.), it’s aggrandizing story in the other direction, employing broader, bolder comic ideas that allow for, overall, more laughs than we saw in Season Two. But this, of course, is a double-edged sword, for while we want this show to be funnier to fulfill the comic objective inherent to the genre, when the yuks largely come from ideas that aren’t explicitly linked to the situation, they feel insubstantial and extraneous.