File Under Unnecessary

It’s a return engagement with our favorite presumed WASP, Hampton “Fuff” Stevens!  And I don’t even have to feel guilty about mocking him, since, at least judging from this article, he’s kind of a misogynist douchebag.  Way to go, Hamptons!  What model of cogent argumentation can you provide us with today?

Last night, though, for the second time in its six seasons, 30 Rock was broadcast live from its namesake building, 30 Rockefeller Center. [. . . ] If the writing was typically sharp, the targets of the humor were a tad familiar. A spoof of The Honeymooners lampooned the sexism in 1950s sitcoms. A send-up of NBC's Nightly News in the 1960s mocked the sexism in broadcast journalism. 

Because there are so many shows that lampoon the sexism on television.  I get overwhelmed trying to keep track of the hundreds of shows created by women currently on TV.  Of course those shows never cause sexist reactions, right?

Also, remind me: were those spoofs funny?  Yes, yes they were.  As Hampton says, the “writing was typically sharp.”  But how quickly I forget—as delineated in Section 1, paragraph 4, line 5 of the dumbass TV reviewer handbook, praising a show for being funny or smart is only a prelude to criticism. And laughter and intelligence are certainly unimportant qualities to Hampton Stevens III, Esq.  

But the larger problem—one that made this episode such an admirable failure—was another quality typical of 30 Rock—the lack of depth in the characters or a believable story. 

Lack of depth.  Believable story.  Oh, for fuck’s sake.  I want my characters as deep as the Mariana trench.  I want a major life revelation every five minutes.  And from now on every episode of 30 Rock is going to be a Dardennes Brothers film about the Belgian working class.  Sure, it won’t be funny, and the pace will be glacially slow, but it’ll be believable as hell. 

For all the sharp writing, beloved stars, and technical accomplishment, Fey and company didn't make much of a case for live TV. In fact, 30 Rock Live perfectly illustrated why the tagline "shot live before a studio audience" has gone the way of rotary dial—and it isn't money.

Wait, what?  It makes my head hurt trying to follow your “logic.”  I thought you were talking about your idiotic reasons for not liking 30 Rock, even though it’s really fucking funny.  But no, you’re talking about why it didn’t make a case for live TV.  You realize that making a case for live TV and making a funny fucking comedy have nothing to do with each other, right?  Any show could be done live, and many have done stunt live shows.  So the “case for live TV” is totally separate from your feelings about 30 Rock.  Anybody home? Hello? 

You also realize that “shot live before a studio audience” is not the same as actually being live, like this particular episode? Cheers, Seinfeld, The Tonight Show—all “shot before a live studio audience” (you can’t even get the phrase right!), but not broadcast live.  That may sound obvious, but I’ve learned not to take anything for granted when it comes to Hampton.

The episode quite naturally was clunkier than 30 Rock's usual well-lit, well-edited, and nicely scored world. That's a realm where actors are free to retake scenes a dozen times until they get exactly the desired effect. Sure, the live format is exciting. But the tension and energy isn't worth the trade-off in staginess. The format's rushed pace, along with the applause and laughter from a live crowd don't give the actors very much room to be subtle. Then again, most members of the cast aren't actors. Fey, McBreyer, and Tracy Morgan came out of sketch and improv comedy.

Yeah, that’s all true.  The live format doesn’t play to 30 Rock’s strengths, which was a big problem for the first live show.  But on this second attempt, they seemed to realize the limitations, and so made it more of a sketch show—a really fucking funny sketch show.  Again, it’s not like 30 Rock is in danger of doing all its shows live.  There are 124 episodes of 30 Rock.  Two are live. I know you’re worried about that growing 1.6% of live shows here, but I think we’re all pretty safe.  Not really sure what you’re arguing here, Hampton (can I call you Ham? Hambone? Just checking). 

Fey, brilliant though she may be, has always seemed more interested in skewering the sitcom than in making one and has never seemed able to commit to characters as real human beings.

Whoa, hold it there, Hambone.  Again, this has nothing to do with the question of live TV.  Do you really think these ideas are related? 

Newsflash—Immabout to blow your mind.  Did you know that Liz Lemon doesn’t have a social security number?  Neither do the characters of Modern Family.  It’s almost like they’re not “real human beings.”  They’ve been pulling the wool over our eyes all this time!  Now I understand—wow, I’ve really wasted my time hanging around 30 Rockefeller Plaza hoping to catch a glimpse of those “real human beings” Jenna Maroney and Tracy Jordan.  I met this guy named Tracy Morgan once, and he really did look a lot like Tracy Jordan, but he seemed kind of smarter, so I guess they weren’t the same person.  I really hope that Tracy Jordan pulls his shit together, though.  He’s really, really funny, but I’m more concerned for his health as a “real human being.”  Think of his children! 

And Hambone, I’m glad that you have pledged yourself to defending the honor of the sitcom against the likes of those who seek to skewer it.  Hold that shield high, Mr. Stevens!  No joke is too clichéd that it should not be defended against those who seek to stain the mantel of that most sacred of institutions, the situation comedy! 

Fey is too self-aware—and too much of an improv comic—which is why 30 Rock can never go two minutes without a character saying something wildly incongruous, or self-conscious, or otherwise breaking the fourth wall and reminding viewers that they are, in fact, watching a TV show.

It can’t even go two minutes without being really fucking funny!  What’s the deal with that, Tina Fey?  Can’t you slow it the fuck down?  It’s hard for a Hampton to keep up with the pace of jokes. It’s kind of vertiginous for him to realize that dude, he’s like watching a TV show, man.  Hampton keeps putting his hand up to the TV screen and trying to give a big bro high five to Tracy Jordan, and it’s disorienting to realize that he’s just a pattern of LEDs. 

God, breaking the fourth wall!  Reminding readers they’re watching TV!  30 Rock—too avant-garde for the tastes of Hampton Stevens.  The ideal sitcom: a comforting bowl of cream of wheat.  Preferably served on a yacht. Don’t challenge me with your jokes, Tina!

I lie awake at night out here in Fort Wayne plucking flies out of my beard wondering where Bertolt Brecht is when you need him.  He may be a small man (and a dead one), but I’m sure he’d be able to kick Hampton’s ass. 

The thing is, viewers of scripted TV shows usually don't want to be reminded they are watching an illusion. Usually people want to lose themselves in the character's lives. That's hard to do when, as on 30 Rock, the audience is always being reminded otherwise.

Hampton Stevens—the new Don Quixote. When you find him wandering the halls of 30 Rock dressed up in a page uniform, you’ll first want to call security, but now you’ll at least understand why.  He’s … not very smart.

As is typical of this kind of argument, Hampton the Yachtist doesn’t seem to realize the difference between comedy and not-comedy.  To him, it’s all “scripted TV shows.”  Um, Hampton.  Comedy works differently.  It’s about whether or not it’s FUNNY.  That’s kind of the point. 

This live episode was a stunt—and a very smart one, beautifully executed by extremely talented people.

Again, this is meant as a criticism?  

The episode was fun—for nostalgia's sake and daredeviltry of it.

Daredeviltry. Nice. Your mother teach you that one?

But the attempt mostly served to illustrate why sitcoms aren't shot live anymore—not even "live on tape" in front of a studio audience. All that laughter and applause seems stiff to an audience increasingly demanding shows with a look and feel closer to real life. Don't expect a widespread return to live comedy, like Uncle Miltie's day is coming soon. Modern Family, say, seems unlikely to follow suit.

Holy shit, this just reached a new level of ineptitude.  This is gonna take a while.  Hold on there.

First off, we’re back to “why sitcoms aren’t shot live”?  You realize your asinine criticisms of 30 Rock have nothing to do with that issue, right? 

Secondly, the “Straw We,” Hampton Gladwell. We don’t expect a widespread return to live comedy.  No one does.  We’re talking about one experimental episode of 30 Rock.  There aren’t live dramas or sitcoms anymore.  There haven’t really been since the early 1950s.  No one’s saying there should be.  Next week I’m going to write an article about how we shouldn’t expect a return to Betamax tapes.  And after that, my ground-breaking report on why we shouldn’t be crossing our fingers for the return of army cavalry regiments: spoiler alert, they don’t stand up well to IEDs. Or you know, guns.     

Thirdly, “all that laughter and applause seems stiff to an audience increasingly demanding shows with a look and feel closer to real life.”  I assume by “look and feel closer to real life” you mean single-camera, non-laugh-track shows like Modern Family.  And, I might add, 30 Rock, in every other episode.  Seems that I remember that the two highest rated comedies are Two and Half Men and The Big Bang Theory.  Yeah, they’re not live (cause nothing’s live).  But they are multi camera, laugh track comedies, so they kind of resemble the genre of live TV.  Yet somehow, they’re really fucking popular (who knows why).  Um, maybe shows that “look and feel closer to real life” aren’t as in demand as laugh-track ones.  One thing’s for sure.  You have nothing to say. 

People will always watch sports live. Nobody wants to see a Super Bowl three days after the fact. People will watch reality TV result shows. With narrative, scripted television, though, there's simply not that much value to immediacy and topicality, or the electricity of a live broadcast. With scripted shows, the character and story are what matters most. Case in point: The Andy Griffith Show is still in reruns 40 years after it first aired.

Wow, Andy Griffith is resilient.  So are a lot of old sitcoms.  Is that because they were on tape?  No.  It’s because they hold up.  It has nothing to do with how they were filmed.  You know why we don’t watch live sitcoms anymore?  It’s not some groundbreaking statement about the condition of our culture.  It’s just because, for the most part, they weren’t preserved, or they were only preserved on low quality kinescopes.  It’s not some inherent issue with the “liveness” of the format.  It has to do with how successful the sitcom is.  Ever watched Sid Caesar’s Your Show of Shows? It’s brilliant, but unfortunately the image quality is pretty bad, and a lot of episodes have been lost.  But now we have DVDs, so thirty years from now, we’ll still be watching 30 Rock, and you know why?  Because it’s really fucking funny.