In Praise of the Sitcom

If you ever admit to watching television, you will get heavily ridiculed in both gay and academic communities: "How can you watch that mindless trash?"  

And if you admit to watching sitcoms, the ridicule intensifies: "Boring, mindless trash!  Puerile escapism!  The same recycled plots about Mom burning the roast and Junior trying out for Little League."

But I grew up on sitcoms.  Among my earliest memories are hayseed sitcoms like The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction, or "my secret" sitcoms like Bewitched -- they were all my parents would watch, or let us watch.  Although occasionally I managed to sneak in some science fiction.  I watched them for gay subtexts, for hints of gay potential, for a "good place."

If you were filming the story of my high school and college years, the soundtrack would come from the theme songs of 1970s and 1980s "hip" sitcoms:, One Day at a Time, Alice, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Taxi.  I watched them for gay characters and references, for hints on coming out.

My halcyon years in West Hollywood, the sex-and-friendship sitcoms of the late 1980s and 1990s:  The Golden Girls, Designing Women, Perfect Strangers, Who's the Boss.  I watched for the beefcake, the buddy-bonding, the friendship, the sense of "home."

The sitcom is a distinctively American invention.  There are precursors in the comedy skeches of Vaudeville, the sequential comic strips of early 20th century newspapers, comedy movie series of the 1930s and 1940s, but it really originated in the comedy-variety programs of 1930s radio, such as Fibber McGee and Molly, Duffy's Tavern, and The Great Gildersleeve.  Movie comedians could be shown in different situations in every episodes -- the Three Stooges could be delivery boys, then music teachers, then African explorers.  But with just voices, the situation had to be stable and easily recognizable: a small-town living room, a tavern, a school. 

Plotlines had to involve reasonable crises and complications: a small-town husband might forget an anniversary or stay out too late carousing with his chums, but he could hardly become involved with space aliens or international spies.  It was utter naturalism;maybe there were more wisecracks and more recurring gags, but the characters lived "three doors down on the next block."  

Since the radio waves were broadcast directly into your home, the characters behaved like guests.  If you didn't like them, you would turn them off.  No one was mean, except for comic foils, and even they had attractive qualities.  No one was actually evil. 

When the sitcom made the switch to television, the insistence on absolute recognizability remained.  Only a few American and Canadian sitcoms, and no successful ones, were set in the far past, the distant future, or in other countries.  The setting was almost always a home, a workplace, or a hangout like a tavern.   Any fantasy element, a witch, a genie, or a talking horse, must be portrayed as an intrusion into "normal" space. 

Of course, the sitcom world was not exactly like the contemporary U.S.  Occasional episodes dealt with serious topics like sexual assault or runaway teens, but most problems were small, two dates on the same night or an upcoming talent show.  

Death was rare, and quickly forgotten.  Alex on Family Ties spends two episodes dealing with the trauma of his friend's death, and then it is never mentioned again.

 "Middle class" meant rich, poor meant "middle class," minimum-wage workers lived in magnificant apartments, and even Roseanne had no trouble pulling together expensive, elaborate props at a moment's notice.  

The emphasis on likeability remained as well.  There was sarcasm and snark, but no real malevolence, and no real danger.   When Fran on The Nanny became a hostage in a bank robbery, she befriended the goofy robber. 

During the 2000s, the sitcom fell into decline, along with most scripted shows, as reality tv took over.  In 2002-2003, I was living in Florida, and watching Fox Sunday night (The Simpsons, King of the Hill, Futurama, Malcolm in the Middle) and nothing else.  The rest of the weekly schedule is a mystery.  Friends?  I've seen it only in reruns on the treadmill at the gym.  Everybody Loves Raymond?  Never saw it.

Today the sitcom has returned, revitalized by the internet and streaming services which allow for a variety of formats: 15 minute long webseries, 8 episode long miniseries, ongoing plot arcs.  And more diverse characters, including gay protagonists.  Right now Bob and I are watching Corner Gas, Young Sheldon, Happy Endings, Cougar Town, Disenchanted, Bonding, Bob's Burgers, and of course The Simpsons.  With some science fiction thrown in from time to time.