Vulture's Willa Paskin gets at the reason I'm watching The Office with dry eyes and a critic's curiosity rather than a fan's verklemptness:
Yes, the Michael Scott of season seven of The Office is slightly less boorish than the Michael Scott of season two. He has matured over the course of the series — and especially this season, thanks to having found his soul mate, and, of course, having to wrap up his story arc. Michael loves his staff like they are family — they are his adopted family; that's the show's essential premise — but he still remains capable of remarkable acts of insensitivity, which is, and always has been, an integral part of his character. Michael is not, and has never been, perfect. But as Michael Scott, Steve Carell has been nearly so. And over these last few valedictory episodes of The Office, Steve Carell and Michael Scott have gotten conflated. In the world of the show, a lovable buffon is moving to Colorado; in reality, a beloved TV star is going to make movies. Only one of these guys is getting the send-off he deserves.
But the conflating of Steve Carell and Michael Scott in the show's past few episodes gets at my main problem with The Office overall. The series seems too taken with the sketch-comedy and improvisational skills of Carell, and his scenes frequently turn into "let's see how far he can take this" moments that contribute to wild inconsistencies in his character. His worst moments in stupidity and insensitivity, such as believing in the existence of a literal gaydar machine and the cruel way he treats Pam's mother, are passed off as part of his social awkwardness and neediness (as is traditional with Narcissists, as I wrote in an earlier post). But I could never get past the feeling that the writers were just throwing challenges at Carell. Did they ever reject ideas as going too far (other than the obscene scenarios I'm sure the writers came up with late at night)?
TV critic Jaime Weinman has defended the traditional "taped before a live audience" sitcom, arguing that single-camera comedies like The Office can sometimes get too "insular" and they don't have the opportunity to get immediate feedback from people who don't work on the show. (Though Parks and Recreation, which started as a single-camera Office clone, surpassed its parent when it committed to believability instead of cringe-comedy stunts.) I know that The Office is supposed to be squirmy humor that doesn't get big laughs, but it doesn't fully commit to that premise the way the British original did. We were never supposed to see David Brent as a lovable clown as we are with Michael Scott. And for all the cutting-edge reputation of The Office, I sometimes feel like I'm watching Red Skelton or Jackie Gleason doing anything-goes comedy for the cameramen before the audience files in and the real show begins.
Cross-posted at Robert David Sullivan.
