Florescent lights. Combination locks. Clueless parents. Clueless teachers. Clueless friends. Paranoia. Alienation. Hormones. Zits.
These are but a few selling points of the NBC series Freaks and Geeks, which debuted September 25, 1999. Set at a white suburban high school circa 1981 and devised by men who knew the territory, creator Paul Feig and executive producer Judd Apatow, it was hailed by critics as one of that season’s freshest new series. It lingered in the basement of the Nielsen ratings for 18 episodes, less than a full season, until the network, which never really knew what to do with it, finally pulled the plug.
In retrospect, it seems a minor miracle that the series lasted as long as it did, since its stock in trade was honesty. And when the subject is adolescence, a period that grows rosy in the memory but sucks ass when you’re actually living through it, honesty isn’t much of a selling point. Mass audiences are only interested in reliving high school if it’s sentimentalized. The chance to revisit something remotely in the ballpark of the real thing is as appetizing as cafeteria food — and Freaks and Geeks was a weekly feast of teen awkwardness.To view the video essay on The L Magazine's website, click here. To read a transcript of the narration, click here.
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19 comments:
A nice tribute to a lovely show.
Among the many unfollowed revolutions of F&G was the casting. Because of the enormous production problems created by casting children, most high school shows feature a cast of 19-25 year olds. But while people in their early 20s are at the peak of human attractiveness (the body is screaming "Breed! Breed!"), people 14-18 mostly look like mutants, with even their good features not yet supported by the rest of them. The beautiful-people casts of most high school shows further the easy nostalgia of thinking everyone was beautiful, while F&G's age-appropriate casting is a constant, painful reminder of high school's Cronenbergian body rebellion.
That's a great point -- although, as I'm sure you're aware, while the Geeks were about the same age as the characters they portrayed, the freaks were mostly in their twenties, and Linda Cardellini was 28 during the shooting of the show's first season. If memory serves, there's a knowing line of dialogue about her actual age in the fake ID episode.
"Whipping Post!" Fuck yeah!
I couldn't watch this show in broadcast, and still can't watch it today, because Sam Weir was me. I'm sure that's part of why it never got numbers: the people it spoke to most directly were people who were on the run from memories of who they used to be.
Spot on about the casting. It's a credit to Apatow and Feig that the entire main cast (and many of the bit players) have gone on to have rather successful careers, both those who have been helped along by Apatow's films and those who have been left behind. I was probably a little too young to recognize what a good show it was when it first aired, but I distinctly remember knowing that it was different in some way and I loved watching it whenever I found it in reruns. The same goes for Undeclared, and I remembered moments from episodes as I was going into high school and then college. I can't tell you any other shows that were on at the same time, nor do I remember a single cast member of any of those shows, but even before the re-explosion of Apatow, I remembered those two shows distinctly.
Great essay! I saw this series on german TV a couple of years ago when the whole cast and Apatow were still virtually unknown. An I liked the it a lot, but: don't you think that it is very, an I mean *very* conservative and didactic? Almost every episode has a moral lesson at the end - listen to your parents, don't drink alcohol, don't do drugs, don't drink/drive/have sex underage...the worst episode in this regard is the one where the extremely cool dad of Samm Levine's character is revealed to be unfaithful to his wife (of course! Because he is obviously a "liberal" in his whole attitude - and the episode shows you where this will land you...). I can't help but like the series anyways, as I like most films from the Apatow-factory. But at the same time I can't help but see that everything he does is pretty reactionary. Don't you think?
Kai: Oh, absolutely. Apatow is maybe the gentlest reactionary on Hollywood's A-list. I haven't seen every one of his films, but the ones I have seen do have a "toe-the-line, don't rock the boat" message that comes through even if it's not what he consciously intended. Dropouts, rebels and other people who stand outside the social mainstream eventually come inside and like it -- which isn't a terribly different dynamic from 99% of all Hollywood entertainment, really. "Freaks and Geeks" had a dose of that as well. It was like the greatest afterschool special ever -- one where the characters were three-dimensional and surprising, and they actually had fun now and then without having it double as a lesson (though there were certainly lessons learned).
I was going to get into that at length, but during editing I felt like the observations about content restrictions and the show's aesthetic conservatism, coupled with the situations themselves, pretty much laid it all out for me anyhow.
Almost all American network shows are culturally conservative. They have to be, otherwise they'd lose their sponsorship. That's why alcoholics and drug users always have to get clean at some point, smokers have to quit, and nobody's actually had an abortion on network TV since "Maude."
What about Mike White? He was a supervising producer and wrote three episodes (including series highlight "Kim Kelley is My Friend"), and the sensibility seen in his prior (Chuck and Buck) and subsequent (The Good Girl, etc.) work seems to reflect the more daring parts of the show, arguably more than Feig or Apatow.
This is nothing more than speculation, but I think the show's roots are complex enough that looking to Apatow as the show's auteur is a little problematic (not that the video does it so much). Undeclared, for example is much more conservative than Freaks in almost every way...
I'm gonna have to watch this series again at some point because as a big fan of the show at the time, I don't remember it being at ALL "reactionary" nor a proponent of 'toeing the line'.
I do believe I remember how the series ended, however. In the very last scene of the the series, Lindsey ditches attending "an invitation to an academic summit at the University of Michigan" (thanks for the memory jog, wikipedia) in order to hit the road with Kim to follow the Grateful Dead.
This is hardly the message a 'cultural reactionary' would choose to leave the viewers of America with.
Matt - I think over the years you have been one of the best critics in America - but (from my liberal's POV) I think in this case you are letting your essentially centerist/conservative view of the world color the way you perceive this show.
I'd hardly call the show conservative and didactic. If anything, it even-handedly treated its characters with humanity, including ones who would be written off as burn-outs or losers in lesser shows.
The uncomfortability with drugs and counter-culture throughout the series seemed less a didactic tool of the writers/producers, and more a manifestation of the protagonist Lindsay's uncomfortability with those things. Which is a feeling just about every teenager goes through.
I'd hardly call a series where the main character openly rebuffs her mild Christian neighbor with a steadfast assertion that God doesn't exist (in primetime on a major metwork!) a conservative/didactic one.
Indeed---remember the pilot does climax in Lindsey recalling her grandmother's death, and the last exchange is: "Do you see anything? Heaven?" "No---there's nothing." (I'm paraphrasing shamelessly) On the ep 1 commentary, Feig and Apatow laugh and say "And that's where the show got canceled."
It's true that the show's pretty ambivalent about drugs and sex. But then, there's nothing like high school to make one ambivalent about drugs and sex---it's the time when a lot of kids really can mess themselves up pretty badly. And the show's equally ambivalent-to-negative about church, mathletes, family, disco, and every other possible activity a kid could take part in.
I think the show's sensibility was driven by an interesting clash of personalities---Apatow's sunny hope for everyone to get along, Feig's sympathy for the weirdos, and Mike White's naive-yet-bitter underclass sensibility ("Kim Kelley Is My Friend" is indeed the series highlight) resulted in a whole greater than what any of them has since done solo. Sort of like the Beatles of TV production.
Great piece, on my favorite TV show ever. Certainly one of the few shows that rang true to my own high school memories, however gently airbrushed for broadcast Standards & Practices. Ironically, when I got an advance peek at the pilot (I used to do coverage and story analysis for an NBC exec), I found it a tad derivative and safe, a little too "Disney Channel." But when it hit the air, I fell in love immediately and followed it to the rueful end. I went to see the cast and creators speak at a couple of Museum of Television events, where I rewatched all the episodes and saw the unaired ones for the first time. I snapped up the special "yearbook" edition DVD set as soon as it hit the market.
It frustrates me that Apatow's big screen career has been so divisive. I think a lot of folks who don't care for his films would love the series if they gave it a chance.
I think the mini-debate here about the show's political leanings are illustrative of its large spirit.
-bee: "I think in this case you are letting your essentially centerist/conservative view of the world color the way you perceive this show.
That's an interesting take, and a little confounding. Usually when my politics are described, I'm faulted for being too knee-jerk liberal about everything.
I think you (and maybe Luke as well) are mistaking what I was trying to say -- or very possibly I chose imprecise words. Here's what I meant:
While the show has a tremendous empathy for human beings in all their complexity, and it feels for the freaks and the geeks (this comes through strongly in Lindsay's decision to go follow the Dead rather than attend the academic summit) the show never manifests anything like a romantic spirit of rebellion, and never endorses any of the anti-establishment, live-in-the-moment decisions that any of the kids make.
If anything one gets the sense (or at least I get the sense) that the show is being written from a settled adult perspective, the perspective of a grownup who came through adolescence and college and eventually settled down, whatever that means, and now finds himself looking at these kids' in-the-moment choices, and their resentment against anybody warning them against being "irresponsible," and saying, "You know, those adults are annoying and square -- but they had a point."
(CONT'D BELOW)
The portrayal of Mr. Russo is the key to unlocking the show's overall attitude about all the issues we're discussing in this thread. His anti-drug lecture to Daniel, and his mortifying talk about STDs with Lindsay (complete with a confession that he has herpes), indeed most of his heart-to-heart talks with the students, are played with a comic edge; Feig and Apatow let us see Russo as the kids see him, as a socially impotent weirdo who's always coming at them with information they don't want and moral lessons they don't want to contemplate. But in every single case, he's right, and proven right. The show makes fun of the name "Mathletes," and subtly kids the mindset that would try to appropriate jock imagery for an academic pursuit, but there's not a shred of evidence in the series to suggest that Lindsay is better off in the long run for having left that team, and when she does return, it's framed as an instance of the character doing something that's both right and good for her, and true to her nature. I don't believe for a second that Lindsay's decision to follow the Dead is indicative of her true nature; she was always a tourist among the freaks -- even the freaks recognized this, and it's a big part of the reason Nick was so attracted to her, because of her "normalcy." I get the feeling she'll have a few more adventures of that sort, then go to college, knuckle down, get kick-ass grades and eventually end up with a really good job somewhere, and be married with a couple of kids by the time she's 30, and look back on that time in her life as a wonderful ride, one she's glad she took, but also be very grateful that she didn't keep acting that way forever.
In another episode of the series, Lindsay's dad lectures Nick (who's staying at their house following a fight with his dad, who sold his drum kit) about his lack of ambition; he's lying on their floor listening to music. He's urging him to bang on a pot with sticks -- to take a little stock in himself and think about getting off his ass, to paraphrase Ben Braddock's dad in "The Graduate" (who's mocked by that film in a way that "Freaks and Geeks" never mocks Lindsay's parents). Lindsay's parents are gently kidded for being so square, but they're treated much more respect (not just for their stable, respectful relationship, but for Martin's status as a successful small businessman and pillar of the community) than, say, Kim's working class parents, who are loutish, insensitive, hostile toward their daughter, and deeply envious of the "rich." The show makes no attempt to understand the roots of their dysfunction or see things from their perspective; they're just bad influences, period, and even when Kim is turning the Weir home upside down (and dragging her drama with Daniel into the Weirs' kitchen) the show depicts the Weir house as a safe harbor, as it always does -- an oasis of normalcy where the fucked-up and damaged can come to chill out and get their bearings and see what life can be, and should be. (When Nick praises Mrs. Weir's cooking as having come straight from heaven, he's not just talking about the food, or Mrs. Weir's skills as a chef. The food tastes good to Nick because the Weir home -- "square" though it may be -- is the yardstick against which all other homes on the show are implicitly measured and found lacking.)
(CONT'D BELOW)
The show is close to censorious in its depiction of Neal's dad's affair, disapproving of it strongly, portraying Mrs. Schwieber as a suffering saint (or maybe doormat) and focusing mainly on the pain and humiliation suffered by Neal. I'm not for a minute suggesting that Dr. Schweiber has a right to cheat on his wife or that he should be praised for doing so -- but I do think the dynamics of this subplot, and its almost exclusive emphasis on Neal's suffering, reveal the show's worldview. His dad is an insincere cheeseball, a totally selfish jerk; we're not supposed to believe a single exculpatory syllable that comes out of his mouth. This is not a subplot about how adults have lives, and sometimes make personal decisions that hurt their spouses and children, and how kids don't have enough emotional distance or life experience to begin to understand things from the parent's perspective. It's about a selfish dad putting himself first and doing something that inflicts tremendous damage on his son.
Think about the tension in Lindsay's relationship with Nick, a lot of which revolves around how he's baked all the time and has lost his ambition. The show doesn't characterize drug use as simple experimentation, as something that a lot of kids do and that they'll grow out of. The freaks are in very real danger of derailing their lives through drugs and alcohol. That the show treats them as complicated, funny people rather than ciphers, and feels for them, and simultaneously laughs at them and with them, doesn't mean that a fundamentally conservative statement isn't being made. That the statement is very much a moral/instructional statement, not too different from ones made in 1970s afterschool specials (and if you don't believe me, watch one of them on YouTube) doesn't negate the possibility of enjoying the series if you're a liberal (or a libertarian, or a conservative, or a Henry Miller-style lifestyle adventurer).
That said, I don't really see how it's possible to look at the show's 18 episodes, scene to scene, and think about which character has perspective and which does not, and ultimately conclude that the show is backing the freaks, or that it has anything but affection for the bourgeois institutions it depicts.
Luke, you mention the show's discomfort with drugs and sex and wonder if it's not coming from Lindsay's perspective. I submit that if you're right -- and you probably are, since Linsday is the closest thing to a main character/audience surrogate on this ensemble series -- then you might very well have proven my point better than I could have done myself.
I love the show. I don't consider its (subtle, thank God) socially conservative underpinnings to be a deal-breaker, just a characteristic of the series. I do think the show is very deliberately expressing that worldview, and the evidence is plain to see (and kai, writing from overseas, picked up on it immediately, in a way that I suspect many viewers raised in the United States might not). And whether I agree with that worldview (as a parent, and a liberal, I have conflicted views) is quite beside the point and doesn't really factor into my reading of the evidence I see onscreen. I like a lot of movies and TV shows whose world view I don't necessarily agree with.
Also: Nick is a terrible drummer and has neither the talent nor the temperament to succeed at it. His dad's an enormous asshole for selling his drums, but everybody else on the show -- from Lindsay to the other freaks (including Ken, who destroys Nick's guitar) to the members of the polished local band who let him audition -- all realize immediately that he's not a candidate for rock stardom, or even working musician status. The show has sympathy for Nick's fantasy life -- it's an escape from the horrible reality of his home life -- but there's no suggestion that Nick should follow his bliss and see where it leads him (even if it eventually leads him to the same conclusion as everyone else). I get more of a sense that the show pities Nick for his myopia (while understanding where he's coming from). And there's even a scene in that episode where Daniel tells Lindsay flat-out that military school might do Nick some good -- and there is absolutely nothing in the writing of the dialogue, the acting, or the direction of the scene to suggest that we're supposed to think Daniel is wrong for saying this, or that Lindsay is wrong for agreeing with it (even though she doesn't have the nerve to say so out loud just yet).
Last thing: I typed "Russo" when I meant to type "Rosso." Sorry about that, "F&G" fans.
Matt, if you consider yourself to be a liberal, my apologies for assuming otherwise.
But wow - IMHO there was a whole lot of projection going on insofar as your analysis of Lindsey's future goes.
When I watch a series, I feel like I often cannot be entirely sure of where the producers are coming from until I see how the show ends.
For all that Lindsey's parents are depicted as three dimensional human beings with many fine qualities, I felt the series conclusion with Lindsey's decision to reject their values to be a defining moment around which the entire series should be viewed and IMHO is nothing BUT an 'endorsement' of her action - her 'coming of age'.
If I may be allowed to do a little projecting on my own here - I don't interpret this ending to really be about 'her' per se as it is a kind of universal comment about a certain kind of reckless heroism which exists in youth.
The feeling I get is that the people making the show are saying "yeah, we're adults now who have become co-opted by the 'rat race' which in many ways is not such a bad thing - but man, wasn't it a glorious thing to be young and have the luxury to throw our futures to the wind and just TAKE OFF?"
Matt - if I HAVE to imagine what would happen to Lindsey - it would be that she eventually would become one of the creators of a TV show called "Freaks and Geeks" and some years down the line would end up working on the US remake of "The Office". Family and kids as well? Sure - why not.
PS: The gut feeling I got about Lindsey and the other Freaks was this: she became involved with their circle because she was desperately in love with Daniel. Since Daniel either didn't realize this or was not interested, Lindsey 'settles' for Nick mostly because he actively pursues her, she feels like she needs the sexual experience and its also a way to possibly get to Daniel somewhere down the line. She is terribly conflicted by the relationship though because she is at heart a decent person and realizes she inevitably will have to hurt him (which indeed happens).
This may be REAL projection - but I felt like things were being set up so that Ken eventually going to be revealed to be her true 'match' - Ken (despite outward appearances) being the smartest, funnieset boy of the three and really the only one 'worthy' of her.
Matt---an excellent analysis, as usual. And I mostly think you're right about the show's conservatism.
But I do have to disagree on the Mathlete episode. What's most interesting about that episode is the end, when Lindsey realizes that although she could easily waltz in and become Queen of the Team... she can't go home again. Having had some kind of sexual and countercultural awakening, it's just not possible for her to return to the pre-pubescent bosom of the Mathlete team. And that does substantially complicate the show's affection for bourgeois propriety---institutions like the Mathletes, or the football team, or Mr. Rosso are all good, and to some extent right, but also completely unhelpful.
Also of interest is how oddly revolutionary some of the show's conservative aspects are, particularly its sympathy to the parents. Most high school shows still exist to flatter both high schoolers and adults who've never gotten over adolescent grievances. Hence the grown-ups are always shown as clueless fools, and the kids as life-loving, dangerous freedom-seekers. By expanding its zone of sympathy, F&G forced the viewers to always weigh competing claims, and to understand every intergenerational conflict as a battle between two equally invested, equally 'right' individuals. That's something that's still beyond most high-school programs.
That Fuzzy Bastard: "By expanding its zone of sympathy, F&G forced the viewers to always weigh competing claims, and to understand every intergenerational conflict as a battle between two equally invested, equally 'right' individuals. That's something that's still beyond most high-school programs."
Great point, Fuzzy. This dovetails with the notion that the show laughs both with and at its characters.
-bee: I humbly suggest that you might be projecting a bit yourself. My (very mild) complaints about this aspect of the show are built around my feeling that it's ultimately validating bourgeois values more than it's challenging or critiquing them -- ironically a more stereotypically liberal reading of the series than the one you're espousing. I sincerely believe the evidence is there to back up my viewpoint at least partly.
In the end, though, Fuzzy might be more right than either of us. It's entirely possible that Feig and Apatow were living simultaneously in the chaotic past and the settled present when they were working on the show, and that accounts for the push/pull qualities, politically and in terms of audience sympathy.
I may be semi-banned at Glen Kenney's site, but I can still bring comity to TV discussion!
But yeah, I would actually argue that a lot of great comedy---a lot of great art---is driven by that kind of push/pull. I might even go so far as to say all great art is riven with internal conflict; that's the friction that generates fire. And in the case of an ensemble show like F&G, it's really in the DNA.
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