The problem with a first post, no matter what it is that you're trying to do or in what format you're trying to do it in, is that there's just no way to encapsulate everything that you're attempting in a single entry. Plus, you also sort of have to have this grand 'mission statement' about yourself implied to boot, as if right off the bat you're supposed to have your goals, aspirations, dream date, and favorite Backstreet Boy all picked out and ready. (As if I can pick just one of my boys...)
That's the same way I feel about pilot episodes. What jerk decided that a first episode has to have everything already worked out? It's supposed to be a tester, you know? A feeler. A little mini piece of potential that may or may not come out as originally intended.
All that being said, if I really had my way pilots honestly would be the best episode of a show, and all of the kinks would be worked out and any changes that occurred there after would be simply improving upon something that's managed to be awesome instantly. Yep, that's what I want. But as a person with no power to enforce these unrealistic expectations upon poor, hapless TV writers, I get to feel indignant about it on their behalf. Wonderful, how that works out, eh?
Which brings me to "Glee."
After the pilot, I can’t for the life me figure out whether or not “Glee” is attempting to take itself seriously. Obviously not too seriously, mind. When you have a TV show about high schoolers dancing and singing under the enthusiastic and simultaneously conflicted tutelage of their Spanish teacher, there’s a certain amount of self-mockery built in. Add to that the rampant stereotypes of the (secretly) sensitive and artistic jock, the diva, the gay guy, and so on, and there’s the very real possibility that the mockery is less impressive and original than it is overdone, dull and obvious. Then you have a show that’s talking down to its audience, and nobody likes that, least of all us young folk who tend to be especially sensitive to such things.
These are the risks that go along with the high school drama, which is the fundamental format that “Glee” operates on, one that head writer Murphy is familiar with from his short-lived show “Popular.” This newest venture follows a similar woeful tale of the underdogs, talent/brilliant/otherwise amazing kids oppressed at every turn by the fascist popular teens/uncaring adults who rule the roost. Enter Will, the above mentioned Spanish teacher, able to relate to these outcasts and willing to dare to support them. Interject musical numbers when appropriate, and that seems to be the basic functioning premise of “Glee”.
Now don’t get me wrong – those musical numbers are awesome – but such a tried format alone isn’t especially impressive. There in lies my major concern with “Glee” – that it really is just another high school drama, although an incredibly enthusiastic one.
Two things give me hope. One, the fact that Will’s sorted personal life makes me feel like a giddy gossip queen. I wish I could use more sophisticated terminology to describe my fervor, but honestly I’m already invested in the love triangle portrayed by Matthew Morrison (the earnest and invested young educator), Jessalyn Gilsig (as his delightfully terrible self-absorbed wife), and Jayma Mays (the sweet, neurotic guidance councilor who adores our hero from afar). The dynamic guarantees me, at least, hours and hours of tormented fun. Granted, I hope that more of the supporting cast (particularly the flat, conventional portrayals of the glee club members and their cheerleader/football counterparts) gets an opportunity to grow and shine given more screen time, but until then I can make do with these three amusing characters.
Second, I can only pray that the tone of this show continuously flirts with the idea of self-ridicule. Yes, there are important truths to be gleaned from “living a life you’re truly passionate about” and how “being a part of something special makes you special” but honestly, I don’t need to be beat upside the head with the sincerity stick of optimism and hopefulness. Not only is it insulting, but it also becomes contrite and boring given long enough. If Murphy and co. can temper these ideals with more than a bit of tongue-and-cheek humor that acknowledges and glorifies in these sappy sentiments rather than taking them entirely seriously, it can avoid becoming preachy and dull and instead be a part of the joke that the audience will undoubtedly invent for themselves anyway. Nothing’s wrong with self-aware sap, after all. It’s only the oblivious stuff that gets obnoxious.
In conclusion, I liked “Glee.” It was an obvious, entertaining pilot that, given enough time for a bit of refining, could become not only fun but also really, really good. Because, honestly, who couldn’t use a little more joy in their life?
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