The following is our list of the Top 20 episodes of “How I Met Your Mother” as of the end of the seventh
season. The list is chronological by season, starting with the first. Enjoy!

1.  Season 1, Episode 3:  Sweet Taste of Liberty

Ted: "Fine, we'll go lick the Liberty Bell"

Summary:

Barney convinces Ted that he needs to break his normal routine of going to the same bar
every night. He takes Ted to JFK to pick up girls, using a fake story about being businessmen
returning from a trip to Japan. They eventually end up in Philadelphia, where Barney persuades
a reluctant Ted to lick the Liberty Bell.

Why it Made the List:

“Sweet Taste of Liberty” really sets up how crazy Barney is, how he has the ability to pull Ted
into his misadventures, and to what lengths Barney is willing to go to in order to get laid. The
episode explores the Ted / Barney relationship and helps explain why Ted keeps Barney around,
despite his various flaws.

2.  Season 1, Episode 14:  Zip, zip, zip

Robin teams up with Barney for some laser tag

Summary:

Ted and Victoria are hitting their stride as a couple. After initially waiting, Ted and Victoria
pick a night to have sex before she leaves town for awhile. They go to Ted’s apartment, which
is supposed to be empty, and get busy. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to Ted, Lily and Marshall
bailed on their nine-month anniversary trip plans and stayed home instead. They hide in the
bathroom to avoid being found out, and must stay there while Ted and Victoria get hot-and-
heavy in the living room.

Meanwhile, Robin decides to be Barney’s “bro” for the night, joining him for a cigar and a drink
at a bar (suited up, nonetheless), and for a game of laser tag later on. When they head back to
Robin’s apartment, Barney mistakes Robin’s excitement for playing the board game “Battleship”
for a sexual euphemism and starts getting undressed. In the awkwardness that ensues, Robin
admits to Barney that she has feelings for Ted.

Why it Made the List:

“Zip, zip, zip” packed a whole lot of important material into one episode. First, we get to see
how great Robin and Barney are together (setting up their future relationship). Then, Robin
reveals that she actually does have feelings for Ted, which is sure to complicate his recently
blossoming relationship with Victoria. Plus, Lily and Marshall wrestle with the problem of
being out of “firsts” in their relationship – certainly something that every long-term couple can
relate to. Lily and Marshall being locked in the bathroom leads to some great comedy, as does
Robin being Barney’s “bro”. This one is an all-around solid episode.

3. Season 1, Episode 15: Game Night

Barney gets an origin story episode, and not all of it is pretty...

Summary:

The gang gets together for game night, in which Marshall introduces a new game that he created – Marshgammon. Marshall uses the game to find out more about Victoria, who Ted brought along. Lily reveals that someone gave her a tape to give to Barney, who tries to destroy it upon finding out who it’s from. Despite Barney’s protests, the group watches the tape, which reveals a long-haired, hippy-looking Barney crying into the camera.

Later, at MacLaren’s, Barney tells the sad tale behind the videotape, but only in sections as each friend reveals their most embarrassing stories. We find out that Barney became the playboy he is today because of a failed relationship with a girl named Shannon, who left him for a suited alpha-male named Greg. Also, just recently Barney reunited with Sharon, who is now raising Greg’s kid on her own. In an ending fit for Barney’s character, he gets closure on the whole tragic storyline by having sex with Shannon.

Why it Made the List:

“Game Night” was the episode that really turned Barney into a dynamic character. Up to this point, he’d been a monotonous player who only had one agenda – to get laid as much as possible. But here we find out that there is actually a reason for the way he is, and that he wasn’t always how he is now. Seeing the way that Barney was with Shannon gives us hope that someday he may be able to ditch his womanizing ways and settle down with the right girl.

Another reason “Game Night” made the list: Marshgammon. Marshall’s complex creation has the entire group confused, and to make matters worse, one of the rules is that a player has to drink if they ask, “What?” Hilarious.

4. Season 2, Episode 9: Slap Bet

Barney reacts to being slapped across the face by Marshall

Summary:

When Robin makes it clear that she does not want to go to the mall, the rest of the gang try to figure out why. Marshall hypothesizes that she was married at a Mall in Canada, and Barney suggests that Robin did pornography in Canada. They agree to a Slap Bet, in which the winner of the bet gets to slap the loser, and appoint Lily as Slap Bet Commissioner.

Eventually, Robin admits that she did get married in a mall, so Marshall slaps Barney. But it is later revealed that Robin lied, so Lily awards Barney 3 slaps on Marshall (for being prematurely slapped). Barney gets a hold of a video of Robin who appears under the alias of Robin Sparkles. He plays the first few minutes of the video, which seems to suggest that it is a porno. Barney pauses the video before anything risqué can happen and slaps Marshall for having won the bet. But Robin continues playing the video, and it turns out that it is not porn but in fact an embarrassing music video. Due to Barney’s erroneous slap on Marshall, Lily gives him two choices: to be slapped 10 times in a row right now, or to be slapped 5 times from now until eternity at whatever time Marshall chooses. Barney chooses the latter, setting up the long-running Slap Bet joke for future episodes to come (in which it is wonderfully revisited).

Why it Made the List:

“Slap Bet” is easily one of HIMYM’s greatest episodes. The Slap Bet ends up being a long-running joke that they excellently revisit in future episodes with phenomenal timing. This episode gave birth to “Slapsgiving”, the Slap Countdown, Marshall’s “You Just Got Slapped” song, and many other well-placed slaps randomly scattered through the following seasons.

“Slap Bet” also introduced us to another HIMYM classic: Robin Sparkles, and her hit song, “Let’s Go to the Mall”. The show revisits the Robin Sparkles joke a number of times, most notably for her follow-up song, “Sandcastles in the Sand,” which appears in the Season 3 episode of the same name. “Let’s Go to the Mall” was so popular with the show’s viewers that it actually made it onto the real-life videogame “Just Dance 3”. Two classic HIMYM jokes in one episode means it has to make the Top 20 list.

5. Season 2, Episode 21: Something Borrowed

Barney finally weds Marshall and Lily after a long day of wedding disasters

Summary:

On Lily and Marshall’s wedding day, a number of unfortunate events occur that ruin any chance of having the perfect wedding. Lily’s problems include her ex-boyfriend, Scooter, showing up to the wedding (her family invited him), her veil being ruined, the flowers not showing up, and the harp player going into labor. Marshall’s mishaps include accidently getting his hair bleached (the tips) and then shaving off a long strip of his hair in a sudden panic.

Marshall and Lily are ready to call off the wedding, but Ted saves the day by suggesting they have the small ceremony they always wanted outside, away from all of their guests. Barney was recently licensed to marry people, so under a tree outside, Barney weds Lily and Marshall in front of just two people – Ted and Robin. The wedding reception at the very end of the episode carries into the season 2 finale, “Something Blue.”

Why it Made the List:

“Something Borrowed” marked the marriage of a legendary couple, one of the greatest TV has ever seen. I also liked that the episode redefined a “perfect wedding” to be a simple ceremony in front of best friends, minus all the commotion of the big event in front of the whole family.

“Something Borrowed” also established Ted’s leadership role, and how at the worst of times he has the ability to pick up the rest of the group and right the ship, which is seen in future episodes. All-in-all, this was just a feel-good episode that focused on Lily and Marshall and temporarily put aside the relationship drama of the other group members.

Schmidt (Max Greenfield) and Cece (Hannah Simone) share a tender moment at a nursing home.

The “backslide” is a classic concept. When people’s loneliness gets the best of them they begin to regress. Some make late night calls to their most recent exes (or the abominable “drunk text”), or they might stoop so low as to booty call an even older ex who they can count on to fill their vulnerable void. Jess’ slip down the regretful slide begins whimsically with her sulking in bed to Joni Mitchell’s “The River.”

Schmidt, Winston and Cece all try to gingerly lift her sprits for the selfish reason that they don’t want to hear the GD song anymore. When Cece finally does get rid of her funk, Nick and Caroline protest when she cuts the music since Caroline just developed a kooky dance routine ripe with white-girl crumping* and pathetic Nick beat-boxing. It’s a quiet triumph of a cold open—not burst-out-laughing, but a delightful way to set the tone of shame that will ensue.

* Actually, it kind of reminded me of this gem, Sports Illustrated Swimsuit cover model Kate Upton grooving in a bikini. ENJOY!

And honestly, that’s what this episode is: a shame-filled insult fest and kick in the pants for the audience and characters alike. It’s a chance to reminisce on how far they have come together, but it’s a fragile balance they’ve achieved. The loft is full of lost and lonely souls. For Winston and Schmidt the scale has been skewed because they’ve found stability (though Winston seems TOO happy and secure). In Nick and Jess’ cases both are masking the sting of successive failures, and by episode’s end one chooses not to settle, while they other hides behind lies he tells himself that even Past Nick scoffs at.

Since the Fancyman saga, there hasn’t been many missteps. Like joke jets whizzing by overhead, tonight you could miss all the wonderful material if you are watching closely. The only missiles fired that weren’t direct hits were when they took their finger off the trigger to deliver some romantic advice that felt rushed and simplified when Jess and Nick’s wounds can’t be treated by platitudes.

Their tailspins begin at the bar where Nick’s serving Nick Miller Manhattans—straight bourbon in a plastic cup—and Caroline appears as his doting sweetheart. The whole episode seems to harken back to forever ago when Jess was off-the-wall and she was the lightning rod that shook up the loft’s status quo. Again, a fitting tribute to the strides this show has made in finding itself. What also happened back then was Nick’s devastation when Caroline ripped out his heart. Why would he want to revisit that? He needs so badly for her to be different he’s willed it true. Then again, maybe this is the optimist in me, but perhaps she has changed, thought every TV instinct tells me nuh-uh.

Schmidt and Winston see “backslider” written all over Jess and and patrol closely to ensure she doesn’t crawl back to Russell. But when a frumpily-clad Cece (her hotness must be dialed down while his genitals recover) enters the bar, Schmidt’s distracted just enough for Jess to place a longing phone call. Though it isn’t to whom you would suspect. Paul Genzlinger a.k.a Justin Long. The ugly crier himself wakes up spooning with Jess and when she sees him off Schmidt and Winston rattle off the nicknames: Mercedes Genz, Genzel Washington, The Genz of the World as We Know It, and Genz and Genzils. Jess’ body language says this was definitely a white flag waved in desperation, but her booty call comes back to bite her when Paul reveals he has a steady. The Asian Jess, Jen.

As Paul is bawling over his betrayal, Jen walks in—chunky glasses, flowery dress, wavy hair, the works—and Jess improvises well saying they were discussing the electoral college. Tears flowing, Paul whimpers “It seems so unfair. Votes don’t mean as much!” And while they’re in the clear then, Jess knows they can’t keep the secret, especially since Paul insists she’s his soulmate. So in school the next day, Jess assists Paul in coming clean. Jen ends up crying in just as ugly a fashion as Paul, but somehow he gains her forgiveness, not without Jess’ help. She levels with Jen that it sucks to be cheated on, but forgiveness is easier when you know you’re meant to be with someone. I do NOT prescribe to that theory and know from experience that the distrust will always be festering inside, but Jess gets to shine with her slapstick (the writers have found her sweet spot) by putting Paul through the emotions of a proposal. Terrible timing in my opinion, and she should reject him hard, but that wouldn’t have led Jess to her epiphany, I suppose.

The tertiary plot involving Schmidt and Cece succeeded where Nick and Jess’ didn’t, inserting sweetness where a punchline had been. Nick’s pathetic steps backward have been used brilliantly for weeks, and when the situation becomes serious it strikes me more suddenly than Schmece’s shift. Schmidt’s shattered love muscle was great for a sight gag, and here his pain is milked for more laughs with him staving off erections as best he can. While ugly-ing up Cece had mixed results, taking a trip to a nursing home works wonders. There, Cece’s grandmother threatens to let herself die if he hurts her granddaughter so that she can haunt him and he gets some tips on how to build a relationship with a beautiful woman from comedy vet Jack Carter! What wisdom does he share? Viagra. Helps him get up in the morning.

But the icing on this sugary sweet cake of a scene is when Cece looks proudly at Schmidt schmoozing with the seniors and decides she wants more. We knew the desire was buried inside her, but to see Schmidt reap the rewards is just as rewarding for us. However, it wouldn’t be a tender moment for Schmidt if it wasn’t undercut somehow. He passes out from the pain of emotional intimacy…because it gives him a massive hard-on. Her honesty with him makes him burst down there, and somehow, as vulgar as that sounds, for Schmidt that’s how he expresses his love. And if the writers hadn’t so splendidly illustrated him till now, we may not have appreciated that payoff as much. It’s strangely satisfying to see him writhe and contort his face because we know it means some kind of twisted victory.

Nick descends further into his rewind when Caroline asks Nick to move in with her. Despite the fact that Nick is only discovering now that she’s three years older than he is (she’s a impetuous 33), he halfheartedly consents: “You’re not not making sense.” Therefore, when Nick agrees to this rash decision Winston makes some weird, insanely funny bird-call, initiating a protocol that involves a DVD Nick made in case he let Caroline back into his life. The idea of a video intervention for yourself has been done by “Parks and Recreation” when Ron Swanson got back with Tammy, but this had its own signature flavor including a poem he had Schmidt stash until this day. It’s contents had me cackling until I coughed: “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day. No, a summer’s day is not a bitch.” So simple, so effective. The visual of a caveman-looking Nick addressing his future self with a jar filled with his tears slayed me, proving that the episode had many bombs to drop and each destroyed more than the last.

Poor Winston was like a pinata this week, beaten with a barrage of insults from his roommates. The escalation of his earring proved to me though that Winston was a worthy target, not easily worn down. He gets gaudier and gaudier going from stud to hoop to full-on peacock feather and takes it all in stride. But the real victim is Jess. Without saying it blatantly, she professes her “affections” for Nick. She shares her Paul-inspired perspective: “If you really love someone, it’s simple.” Essentially, she explains what we all know, even if Nick is clicking with Caroline now, the person he deserves will be good to him from the beginning. She veers into silliness by saying she’ll shut up that Tom Waits voice in his head that tells him he’s a failure, doing a sort-of accurate impression, when he deflates her with the news that he’s moving in with Caroline.

Though the transitional phases of their relationship haven’t been executed as well as with Schmidt and Cece I was still sad for her, the emotional grab worked mostly. But Justin Long’s return feels cheap if it only offers some half-assed, Facebook status of a saying about love. Though it did add to that full circle feel, a pat on the back to this first season’s accomplishments. That self-congratulations is welcome, however, when you consider how this episode solidified New Girl as a wrecking ball ready to demolish on a nightly basis with its flurry of wit. By making the narrowing down of L.O.L.Ls a difficult task, “Backslide” earns my forgiveness, though it didn’t need to try so hard—the #backslider pop-up and the catch-your-breath ending were unnecessary—since I’ve adored these friends for a while.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- Jess: “Why is she dressed up like a women’s studies major?” Schmidt: “It’s precautionary, just until my junk heals.”

- “Caroline’s way hotter than that voice in my head who sounds like Tom Waits and tells me that I’m a failure and that I look bad in hats.”

- Schmidt: “When is it coming out?” Winston: “The earring?” Schmidt: “No, the smooth jazz album you’re dropping.”

- “I’m sorry you know how Monica Lewinsky feels!”

- Schmidt: “I’m gonna miss you Winston.” Winston: “What do you mean?” Schmidt: “When your caravan moves on to the next village.”

- Nick: “How’d the audition go?” Winston: “What?” Nick: “For the Disney pirate movie. Oh and Mr. T called. He wants to punch you because that earring looks stupid.”

- “Do you wanna dress like an unsponsored professional skateboarder for the rest of your life?”

- “For someone with a soulmate, you sure did have sex with me.”

- Winston: “So you and Cece are staying away from each other?” Schmidt: “Only until my penis stops looking like a knotted wizard’s staff.”

- Awesome allusion to “Happy Endings,” the show Damon Wayans Jr. went back to instead of playing Coach (the original black guy), by Past Nick to Future Nick: “Be nice to Coach or he’ll go hang with some other white people.”

Leslie (Amy Poehler) faces off against poll-leading Bobby Newport (Paul Rudd) in a debate.

I wouldn’t begrudge anyone who feels that season four of “Parks and Recreation” just isn’t as uproariously funny as it used to be. My counterargument would be, you’re right, it’s a hell of a lot funnier.

Though I’m no student of comedy—I’ve taken a sketch comedy class, but my forte is fiction—I know that a large percentage of what makes something funny is by how much it surprises you. That would be the “I’m Ron F**king Swanson” moments. In the early going, we weren’t as familiar with these characters, but we knew what made them stand out. Then when the writers fleshed out those quirks, developed backstories and provided them with dimension, we all fell in love with the Pawnee parks department. Now the game has changed. In season four, we no longer need those shocker quotes that make us cover our mouths because the laughs are leaping out of our chests. It’s precisely our familiarity with who these people are that makes us smile for the full 22 minutes.

Was there any doubt Leslie would knock this out of the park? Hell, was there any doubt she would underestimate the simplicity of her prospective constituents? Pawnee is infamous for being “fourth in obesity, first in friendship,” but they have to be among the the worst in critical thinking as well. They are suckers, sorry to say. But that also means they can be easily swayed when Leslie finishes with an impassioned speech that felt like a desperate football coach rallying his players at halftime. Pawnee had lost their way, and Leslie reigned them back in. They are sheep, but they’re her sheep. And while reason would say she could do much better than an city council seat in this town, she is just as irrational. And dammit, she wants it bad. As Amy Poehler (who wrote and directed this episode) so eloquently phrased it, she may “care too much” and “push too hard,”  but it’s only because she wants the best for her town. It angered her to see what she loves threatened, and Pawnee deserves better than to be beholden to a corporation when it’s individuals who give a damn like her, that make it great.

I could go on for days on that speech alone, not only in terms of its effect on the show but concerning its relevance to our current times. It’s one of those awe-inspiring moments you need to see for yourself to understand and appreciate. So for the love of all that’s holy, watch the dang episode if you haven’t already and I’ll guide you through what else made “The Debate,” and what makes this show, special.

Our cast is split, as has become the standard since the campaign began, into three factions. Chris, Ann and Tom comprise “the spin team” who handle all media inquiries during the debate. Chris’ enthusiasm for life makes him a superb addition to the team. He spun Ben’s hypothetical scenario that Leslie vomited and audibly farted on stage into “She’s literally overflowing with ideas. And speaking of methane have you heard her plan to reduce greenhouse gases?” Tom is less enthused to be working with Mr. Traeger since Ann and him are kaput after he gave her an inappropriate shoutout on The Douche’s radio show. As I predicted (that faint trumpet you hear is me tooting my own horn), Chris makes a move on Ann, but she seems to think he’s romanticizing what their three-month relationship was really like.

Tom sabotages his co-spinners with his negative answers and Ann pulls him aside. Obviously, he’s bitter about the breakup, but Ann’s right to call him an ass. Tom takes the advice April gave earlier and admits that it’s an act, and that he needs to “cut out the swagger” as April had put it. He speaks from his heart and shares that she makes him nervous because she’s so out of his league, but that he would do anything to get back together. By the end, Ann rejects both Chris and Tom, maybe only because she needs to stop dating for like, ever. She has had a lot of rotten luck.

The development that most excited me though was that they went back to the well of putting Tom and April’s heads together. Come to think of it, they both have fronts—Tom’s is flashy, April’s is disinterested—because caring isn’t cool. April comes clean, telling Tom that she cares about Andy, Champion, Leslie winning and sleeping, and I’d be psyched if they continue to feed off each other and grow as a result. Both are lovable when they choose to be, so it’d be great to see them open up, let people in, and expose their true selves. Reading that, it seems more sitcom-y then most “Parks” material, but when you have so many people who are easy to root for, why not give them a chance at victory.

April, Andy and Ron are in charge of the donors’ viewing soiree at April and Andy’s place. Trying to fit in, Andy makes phony claims about his “investments” and April does her hysterical rich person laugh. Ron gives a frank and deliberate introduction and Andy realizes he forgot to pay the cable bill, so watching the debate would prove rather difficult. While April tries to talk to the cable company (a nod to fellow NBC comedy, 30 Rock, their provider is CableTown), Andy reenacts scenes from his favorite movies: Roadhouse, Rambo and Babe. Of course. His rendition of Babe has his audience captivated and leaves Donna in tears. My favorite part is when Ron saves the day by stealing someone’s cable. Him strapping on his tool belt, climbing up the telephone poll and pressing himself up against it so he can hide from passing cop cars was a treat. It didn’t hurt that he sang a spirited few lyrics from “Wichita Lineman” either. Anytime Ron can show off his assorted handyman skills is preferable, in my opinion.

Leslie, however, and her fellow debaters dominate this episode. Paul Rudd does an extraordinary job of filling the role without overdoing it and drowning out small players like moderators Perd Hapley and Joan Calamezzo, and the ripped-from-the-headlines fringe candidates. Poehler’s SNL background was evident here as she indirectly parodied some of the more laughable Republican hopefuls that we’ve watched extensively over the past year. There’s Fester Trim (played by Friday Night Lights vet Brad Leland), a gun enthusiast and owner of Gunbelievable Gun Emporium who has a plan for assault rifle vending machines. Sure you do. There’s also Brandi Maxxxx, an adult film star who continually stains Leslie’s reputation during the debate by comparing herself to Leslie. Lastly, there’s Manrico Della Rossa, an animal rights activist who equates rubbing your hands on a leather jacket to murder. Poehler’s direction capitalized on the episode’s format with sharp cuts between random snippets from each candidate that out of its proper context sound ludicrous—such as Bobby struggling to pin down his favorite James Bond, “Daniel Craig! No, Timothy Dalton.”

Jennifer Barkley seems confident going in that Bobby is in a win-win scenario. Either he’s able to speak coherently and not cry and the pundits say he did surprisingly well (probably a reference to the low expectations of Sarah Palin in the VP debates of 2008). There’s also the possibility he crashes and burns and he earns the public’s sympathy. She isn’t far off when Leslie opens by saying Bobby wants to “buy your vote” and the audience turns on her when he says the soundbite,” hurt his feelings.” He follows up saying, “I want do a good job because I like it when people think I do a good job.” This gets a raucous reaction from the crowd and Ben is dumbfounded. Barkley alludes to a “surprisey wisey” and Bobby undoubtedly does deal a big blow. He claims that because Leslie has an anti-business agenda, Sweetums, Pawnee’s premier provider of candy and jobs, might move to Mexico.

Ben, as her advisor, suggests she cut her losses and not risk hurting her image anymore by attacking him. But Leslie has that look in her eye, that burning desire to seize what she wants and bulldoze over anyone that stands in her path. So as her boyfriend, Ben assures Leslie that she can crush him. And wow, did she crush him. Like his little juice box. Even Bobby can only exclaim, “Holy f**k, Leslie, that was awesome.” The most salient point he’d made all night.

Afterwards, during the celebration, Bobby runs over to Leslie yelling “We did it!” and he invites her to his dad’s lake house for an after party. When Ann, Ben and Leslie all look back at the camera in disbelief it’s an amazing comedic move that also works as an indicator of how, as always, the show reflects the audience’s investment. We feel what these people feel and vice versa. It’s a rare feat in any T.V show, but even rarer for a comedy, to achieve this level of intimacy. Sweetness may have been the strength of “The Debate,” instead of astonishing us with its onslaught of killer lines—though there was plenty of material for me to weed through for L.O.L.Ls— but it was triumphant, soulful and spectacular. It may not have been what you were expecting, but it’s just what the doctor ordered. Some of my favorite lines were more adorable than amusing. When Tom told Ann, “Vote for me, to be your boyfriend” it was too frickin’ cute. And when LesBen repeated “I love you and I like you” to each other I couldn’t suppress my “Awwwws.”

Amy Poehler’s script took an impossibly pivotal moment and surpassed any expectations with a genuinely moving and touching take on politics, and proved yet again how loyal and dutiful the “Parks and Recreation” team is to the Pawnee parks team. I am unashamed to say that even if it wasn’t the funniest, I’ve felt more during and for this season than I’d imagined I could. So while no particular scene surprised the hell out of me and made me fall out of my seat laughing, what did sneak up on me was how much that didn’t matter.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- Ben: “You can debate Newport in your sleep.” Leslie: “I have.” Ben: “I know. We sleep in the same bed, it’s been hell.”

- Ben: “You are going to rip his spine out with your teeth, chew it up and gargle with it.” Leslie: “I love it when you’re needlessly disgusting.”

- “I recently invested in some shirts I got at a garage sale. Left those at Wendy’s on the way home. Ha, the economy.”

- “Hello, you are here because you gave us money. Now, we will give you ribs. Also, you will watch the debate. If you like the debate, you will give us more money. That is all. Ron Swanson.”

- Brandi Maxxxx, the adult film star: “And just like Leslie, I know what it’s like to be in a room full of men.”

- “Little Bobby, I’m not gonna clean your room no mas.”

- “And we all know the better looking a park is, the more attention it gets from lady parks that want to have sex with it.”

- “I’m an American, my father is an American, my mother is an American. My godfather is the viceroy of the principality of Lichtenstein.”

- “I was in favor of closing the Borders bookstore, not the border in Mexico.”

- “I guess my thoughts on abortion are, you know, let’s just all have a good time.”

- Jennifer Barkley: “Quick question. Does that Chris Traeger guy have a girlfriend, and is his penis normal?” Ben: “Stop talking.”

- “How do we fix this town? I have no idea. You tell me. That’s what I’m counting on, you telling me.”

Cece (Hannah Simone) rushes to the hospital where Schmidt (Max Greenfield) is recuperating from a penis-related injury.

Comedy is an art, not a science. Because of that, there is no formula that can produce the maximum amount of laughter. Mistakes can often be as fruitful for comedy writers as when they stick to the agreed-upon conventions of their craft. “Tomatoes” (wait for the pun) is that unexpected fruit.

It shouldn’t work for many reasons. You could cite the stereotypical Russian/foreigner jokes that Nadia was the vessel for, you could point to the inherent laziness of penis jokes. You might even scrutinize the way Dermot Mulroney’s arc was dispatched so coldly, causing Jess to come off fickle or at least shallow. And while all these glaring flaws on are flamboyant display, there’s a lot to love about this episode. Maybe I’m infatuated with these characters to the degree that they can do no wrong. Perhaps I should not giggle at genitalia as I did, but even if “Tomatoes” doesn’t have the slam dunk effect of “Normal” where its indisputable how inventive and rewarding it is, underneath some of the distracting and even jarring aspects of the episode, there’s a vibrant heart. Some scenes are daring in their leap from the ridiculous to the raw.

That may sound like digging for substance when there’s just airy, wispy fun, but when Nick and Jess started shaking their butts at one another in frustration—after she sees his ex, Caroline, leave his room wearing his shirt—there was the overwhelming feeling that they are the fire under those asses they desperately need. Jess realizes that Russell is in a phase of his life where tranquility and contentment is preferable to wanting to rip someone’s clothes and face off at the same time. Jess is young enough, however, where she wants to share that thermometer-busting heat with someone, even if “it’s harder and it hurts more.” And Nick, has chosen not to feel anything regarding women because of the pain they’ve continued to cause him, but Jess drives him up a wall and he isn’t running away. He keeps going back to her.

So while out of context, one would undoubtedly view their ass shake-off as an immature and even lazy attempt at laughter, to me it has a layer of sophistication and meaning for these people that is imperceptible to an untrained eye. But if you have, willing or otherwise, become invested in the loft mates, you know this is not just a senseless spat. It’s set up to show how compatible Nick and Jess as a couple. They fill the holes their previous romantic relationships have failed to. If nothing else, this week’s episode warmed me up to the idea of a Nick and Jess hook-up when before it felt gimmicky and forced.

These awakenings of sorts begin on the rooftop where Nick has taken up the hobby of planting tomatoes. Somehow he feels this will begin a healing process. He’ll channel his heartbreak and despair into bringing new life into the world. Yeah, it’s freaking sad. Jess can’t help herself from using plant metaphors (he’s turning over a new leaf!), and Winston feels he’s just devolving. It’s easy for him to say though, since he appears blissfully in love with Shelby who only appears in this scene to shove her tongue down Winston’s throat. Otherwise, he spends most of the time without her, bragging about how happy he is. This underscores how much of a rouse his relationship might be. While he mentions their lovemaking and giddily shares pictures of her cat with Nick, it’s feels like he’s over-compensating. I’m not convinced these feelings reflect real sparks between him and Shelby. Since it started as the rekindling of a flame, I wouldn’t be shocked if on both sides there’s a fixation on how wonderful it feels to be in love, when in reality they’re nowhere near that level yet.

Jess runs into Russell’s ex-wife, Ouli (let’s pretend that’s the correct spelling) at the gym and accidentally invites her to dinner with her and Russell to break up their awkward naked hugging in the sauna. Dinner goes horribly as expected, but the added wrinkle is that Jess detects a sexual tension between them when their fighting begins to escalate. Whether she’s jealous or this just tips her off to the lack of passion in her relationship with Russell is unclear, but either way she seems determined to throw some wood on their fire.

When Schmidt comes over Cece’s to “make sex” as her Russian model roommate Nadia says, Cece puts up a barrier and recommends they cool off since the pregnancy scare made things a little too intense. She even hastens the moving-on by setting up Schmidt for a date with Nadia. Now Nadia is bound to be a point of contention for some. Most of her jokes surround her heavy accent, her distorted concept of American culture and the brutish, sexually aggressive behavior we associate with Russian women. And while this is stereotypical, and therefore not commendable in terms of characterization it produces some incredible lines. I also got the feel that because she embodied such a surreal and frankly insulting view of immigrants that the writers were aware that she was basically a parody of a person with the function of serving as a vehicle for chaos that would eventually bring Schmece (Schmidt and Cece) back together. As long as you go for broke with that satirical aim, I’m okay with it.

Nick continues to throw himself into this tomato thing, even buying a scarecrow to keep away the “sky rats.” He also develops a bitter attitude toward Winston who is kind of a dick and throws his happiness in his face. It was worth it though to see Nick scowl at Winston, pitchfork in hand and yell “Git!” There’s also one of the few tender moments I pointed out where Nick breaks his gardener facade and yells back, “Sandwiches and sex? I want that.” It’s funny, but from an emotional standpoint it’s the first time Nick acknowledges what he’s suppressing.

Yeah, he’s called himself pathetic before and had public outbursts related to his breakups, but these have all been exaggerations and hyperbole for our benefit. He just seemed like a schlub who felt sorry for himself because of his numerous failures. But it not the lack of success, it’s what he’s lost. Nick wants a companion, someone who gets him, someone he can share mundane things with, like sandwiches. In a way, it gives more weight to the later shouting match with Jess since he could have that if he’s willing to take a huge risk. And because of that simple, silly line we know what is on the line.

While that’s happening, Jess tries to manufacture a fight by asking what drives him crazy about her and proceeding to do all those things. This was another instance where Zooey Deschanel’s surprising slapstick skills is showcased. I’m glad they’re tapping into that since she isn’t as gifted a line reader as the Jake Johnsons and Max Greenfields of the world. When Russell stops her angry advances he says that passion is overrated and its clear this is the beginning of the end. While I think it falls in line with his backstory to say that he doesn’t want that kind of roller coaster relationship he went through with his ex, I didn’t feel it was the proper sendoff. His line about him and Ouli being like inching closer to a woodchopper was a nice sentiment, but he didn’t protest much at all, and Jess just got out the car like it was a bad first date. I suppose there’s no easy way to release a guest star back into the wild, and it’s not that I don’t buy Jess’ or Russell’s motivations, I just felt like the guy deserved to go down guns blazing. He did so much for Nick’s character by adding to his comedic arsenal with the man-crush angle, but c’est la vie.

When Cece asks Nadia about her date she says it was brief because “small man went to hospital.” The concern on Cece’s face was sweet as she rushed over, Nadia laughing about how much Schmidt cried (I’ll admit I would have liked to see that). She arrives and sees Schmidt with an ice pack in his crotch. Again, penis jokes are certainly juvenile, BUT when Schmidt delivers his line, “I broke my penis,” like he accidentally dropped something fragile of mommy’s, I died. His recounting of how it happened is L.O.L.L worthy to be sure, but the penis jokes even had significance. Afterward, Cece spits it out, incensed that another woman had him, and tells Schmidt she likes him—”For my personality?” “Yeah I was surprised too.” This moment felt awfully cathartic and well earned, and was masterfully undercut (that’s how Schmidt rolls) when his arousal during their emphatic kiss gives him excruciating pain. This motif is extended into the credits where Winston lists a bunch of things he knows get Schmidt’s juices flowing (models eating sliders, Bernadette Peters on a high beam). Sick bastard. And it’s yet another reminder of why we like to hangout with them every week. We love being privy to their inside jokes, and not having to suffer the consequences. Like say, a broken penis. *Shudder*

Overall, “Tomatoes” struck me as a mask, a veil over the eyes that would quickly become lifted, but in a blink would be covered up by more raunchy jokes and hip references. I’d agree if “Tomatoes” was simply an assemblage of punchlines about dinged-up dongs, ruthless Russians and savvy nods to pop-culture this would be among the show’s weakest, but because it’s a see-saw between its identities—a romp with some outlandish roommates and an insightful, comedic lens on a group of twentysomethings helping each other figure out who they are —it maintains its heightened sense of self. Still, it does slip into sporadic plotting that would strike some as veering off onto a detour before we hit the main stretch of road, the final two episodes of the first season. Like the tomatoes were for Nick, “Tomatoes” was a distraction, sure, but when you lose something it usually turns up when you stop looking for it. And what turned up for me was another worthwhile week of experiment that yielded hysterics and feeling. “New Girl” recognized that the best way to explore deep insecurities is with some distance, a fresh outlook, and a sense of humor.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- Nick: “Jess, you’re dating a man I could see myself growing old with.”

- Things Nadia likes about America: salad bar, Despicable Me, Tosh 2.0, Connect Four, freedom of speech, David Fincher, sidewalk, 1-800-SLIM, strawberry, Your mama jokes, ‘Wilma Valderamo,’ Leon Panetta, ice skating for fun, not to save life

- Nadia comparing Schmidt to who he later deduces is Mickey Mouse, “Why don’t you get in your spaceship like McMouse!”

- “You’re gonna sex me in my face?”

- Ouli: “You know what it’s like with Russell. It’s like you’re on the bow of a catamaran being blasted with spray except you’re naked, and on fire.”  Jess” “Yeah, I mean I’m like, Russell, put away the passion and show me a moderately good time.”

- “What is this, Martin Scorsese’s ‘The Wizard of Oz?’”

- “There was this moment where there was just blinding pain, and then there was this moment where I was watching myself watch myself. I think I finally understand what ‘The Tree of Life’ is about. And I can’t be certain of this, but I’m almost positive Nadia’s vagina contains as right angle.”

- “My penis is having a heart attack. You gotta get outta here. Don’t bend over!”

- “Describe it to them as like, a battered highway cone.”

- Jess: “Stop making that face! I hate that face!” Nick: “This is my only face! I don’t have a lot of faces!”

Bradley Whitford guest stars as "Parks" pays homage to "The West Wing" after a five-week hiatus.

HAPPY DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN!

After what has been an excruciatingly long five weeks for this reviewer, and I’m sure many other fans, we’re reunited, and it feels so good. And while the other comedy I cover, “New Girl” has elevated itself in the interim, there’s no question that “Parks” is still the prima ballerina. Like it never left us, “Live Ammo” danced its way into our hearts, even delighting “The West Wing” geeks with an appearance by Bradley Whitford as soon-to-be retired Councilman Pillner. Devoted fans of the drama (one of the rare all-time greats I haven’t had the pleasure to watch beginning to end yet) were treated to Aaron Sorkin’s infamous “walk with me, talk with me”  down the hallway. Even the title of the episode, and its accompanying quote—”We play with live ammo around here”—are relics of the beloved show that set the standard for depicting the American political landscape.

The devotion for “Parks” is just as fierce though, and I’m sure expectations were high for how strong these characters would come back. Funny thing is, I’d forgotten how much the people I thought I knew had changed. Ann and Tom are still dating and she’s even spending time at his place. Granted, it’s mostly because he outfits the space with every amenity a woman could want. Ann is in love—with his apartment. It’s girl heaven. “He’s seriously in debt, but who cares.” And that’s all we get that addresses their situation directly. They don’t even spend any time on screen together if memory serves, but no news might be good news for Tom since he always seems to be his own saboteur.

April seems to have made the most drastic shift as she is now running the parks department in lieu of Leslie. She may not be prepared, but she’s motivated. The very thought of April showing passion for anything is frightening, but the writers have done a superb job of making her evolution gradual and organic this season. She still has little patience for people, and in her meeting she resorts to name calling, but when Leslie needs a boost in PR, she devises her own plan. Tom had inspired her earlier, reminding her that Leslie gets so much out of the job because she puts so much in. If she can find a passion project, she just might take pride in what she does. It’s shocking to see April enact any initiative considering she studied at the Ron Swanson School of Stalling, and yet there she goes organizing a pet adoption in one’s Pawnee’s finest parks.

Now why does the Knope campaign and the parks department desperately need an influx of good press? Well, during her power stroll with Councilman Pillner she asks him to find another area to cut in the annual budget since the current proposal takes 8% off parks. Her pitch is soild, a picture of a sweet girl who flourishes in five of the parks programs, and they are all that separates her from a destiny of stripping, or prostitution, or general debauchery. Pillner’s sold so he strikes down another program. What program you ask? Oh, just an animal shelter.

Her opponent, Bobby Newport’s hotshot advisor, Jennifer Barkley (played wonderfully by Kathryn Hahn), jumps all over this. On “Final Word with Perd” she brands Leslie a dog murderer and even Perd Hapley is convinced by her menacing tone. Ben had warned her that any moves she makes to advocate for parks could be a liability, but you can’t take the parks department out of Leslie, and he knows that. Damage control is a necessity though as little girls begin to call the campaign complaining they can’t sleep for fear that Leslie will kill their doggies. Yikes.

While April helps the restore the image of the parks department, Leslie goes overboard like only she can by adopting a slew of cats and dogs, plus a pig. Aware this cannot be their end game, LesBen conjures up another program that might replace the animal shelter as expendable. Leslie stumbles upon some “D1″ public works programs that have been inactive for two years and Pillner accepts. Animal shelter stays, AND parks budget stays intact. LesBen begins to lay back and relax, comparing themselves to the Obamas (Ben humorously realizes that he is the Michelle in this pairing), but not for long. Ann bears the bad news that Pillner expanded on Leslie’s proposed cuts and slashed even more “D1″ programs which includes Ann’s position. WHAAAAAAT?!

Frustration sets in for April after only giving away one dog despite the efforts of Jerry and Donna. Jerry cleaned the cages of poop and Donna made up labels with photos and fake personal histories (lots of them saved people from burning buildings). Then, a lady drops off two unwanted cats and bolts. Now stuck with more animals than she started with, she angrily chases the lady down. The next day she doesn’t show up to the office and Tom decides to provide her with some perspective. Seriously, when did these characters become so mature? If any two characters on “Parks” were stunted in their growth it was April and Tom, but this season they’re breaking through their stubborn qualities. April’s now motivated to be kind and do good, and Tom is able to be sincere without promoting a product or making some douchey come-on. Progress people. Anyway, in Tom’s touching scene he lifts April up by imparting some of Leslie’s wisdom: you work for that 2% of the time where you feel rewarded. One elated girl is loving a puppy who would have had no one otherwise. That’s the job. Even April can’t resist a smile after that.

For Leslie, her options are quickly lessening, and will it would seem like she’ll have to either sacrifice principle or her campaign to save her best friend’s job, but she invents a seemingly impossible third option. It’s sounds dangerous because it’s called “political suicide,” but she’ll actually come out fairly unscathed after falling on her sword. Truthfully, it’s ingenious and props to the writers for this. They clearly studied their “West Wing.” Her plan is to offer Jennifer the idea that Bobby Newport funds the animal shelter with his personal fortune. That way the parks budget doesn’t get cut and Ann keeps her job. In return, Jennifer must stop running “puppy killer” ads. And to cover her tracks, to ensure Jennifer doesn’t go back on her word, she promises to cut the parks budget herself so that she comes off as tough, fair and self-sacrificing, therefore undercutting the goodwill the Newport campaign will garner for its philanthropy. On the surface, it looks like Leslie gets very little while she hands Newport a surge in the polls on a silver platter. But she’ll let him win this week. Next week, they have a debate, and he must open his mouth. Leslie’s confident she’ll tear him a new one. This is precisely how Leslie can play politics and not lose herself.

Off in the background, yet somehow stealing the show, were Ron and Chris. Seeking a replacement for Ben as assistant city manager, Chris informs Ron that he’s a finalist for the position. Ron’s both unenthused and thrilled. Any job in government is considered despicable to him, and yet he can use his influence to cut wasteful government spending (he suggests his first measures will be to take down traffic lights and dismantle the post office). Chris then invites Ron to meditate with him. Ron accepts although the idea sounds stupid—the need to wear yoga pants might have tipped him over the edge—and Ann warns him that he’ll want to die. But Ron does not shy away from a challenge and endures the six-hour meditation. With Ron Swanson badassery, he stands the entire time, having not a single thought.

When Ron expresses his disinterest, Chris acknowledges that he figured he wouldn’t enjoy it. The simple act of accepting his invitation proved that he was not as inflexible a coworker as he thought, and he’s now earned his spot as assistant city manager. Ron gleefully accepts and then goes to devour a meat cone. I was amped at the prospect of a Ron/Chris pairing. They’re such philosophical opposites that it’s a recipe for comedic splendor, especially with Nick Offerman and Rob Lowe’s utter dedication to their roles. My excitement is short-lived though when another councilman discretely notifies Chris that he’s on the chopping block if Bobby Newport wins. Chris then immediately resorts to one of his ruts and Ron helps him cope with his brand of solution—whisky. Averse to positive thinking, it irks him to even attempt, but he prompts Chris to consider the upsides. Ron sees it as an opportunity to free himself from an entity that sucks the lifeblood from hard-working people. Chris, however, sees Ann through the windows and his worries dissipate.

Between Chris’ discovery about his job insecurity and the impending debate, the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been. And is that last smile at Ann indicative of a potential love triangle? As improbable as it may seem, Tom and Ann are happy, and I don’t want to see Tom hurt. But Chris’ moping certainly doesn’t sit well with me either. This wonderful dichotomy of pure joy and serious consequence is as admirable as it gets for a supposed workplace sitcom. It’s this ambitious aim that puts it head and shoulders above other funny half-hour retreats, even when it disappears for a while. I threw my head back in laughter at their hysterical observations while I also bit my nails anticipating what fate might befall my friends. I’m overcome with enthusiasm and relief now that we get to play in Pawnee for a few more weeks! A 5-star return.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “Our department is the only thing between her and a life of tube tops, tribal tattoos, and barfing in hot tubs.”

- “All due respect Mrs. Ludgate, but do you even know what you are doing here?”  ”All due respect Mr. Hampsterpenis, but no, I don’t.”  ”My last name is Giles.”  ”Are you sure? Because you look like a hamster penis.”

- “Chris, I feel I should remind you that I do not believe the position nor government should exist. That said, you’d be a fool not to pick me.”

- Leslie to Ben: “I’m just really into you. Gimme a spin!”

- Tom enjoys naming drinks: “Beer-yonce, beer in a sexy ass mug.” “Jay-Zima, they bought a whole bunch of Zima when the factory shut down.”

- “Hey honey good morning, how did you sleep, I adopted 32 cats and dogs, do you want pancakes, I need pancakes.”

- “They should be rewarded for not being people, I hate people.”

- “Hey Ben, the pig ate your noise-canceling headphones. Pigs are awesome!”

- “I know you’re just making a joke, but using a bigger bottle would be considered cheating by most of our trade publications, FYI.”

- “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a hot spinning cone of meat next door, and I plan to eat the whole thing.”

- “I mean, in the grand scheme of things, who cares? We’re all just molecules floating around in random patterns, devoid of meaning.”

- I will not let you return to a life of shaving wieners and dodging knife attacks from meth heads!”

Schmidt (Max Greenfield) rubs the belly of Cece (Hannah Simone) hoping she's carrying his child

In my travels this past weekend (ok, while channel surfing, laying in my bed) I happened upon the commercial for last night’s episode. I audibly groaned when I heard the premise: a pregnancy scare for Schmece (Schmidt and Cece). It’s a tired sitcom plot, and I’ve been exalting “New Girl” for being a more of a cutting-edge comedy than I had forecast when it premiered.

However, upon second thought I realized “New Girl” has mostly been using recycled material, but has been making it fresh with the ways their characters react atypically to the mayhem. “Secrets” was your standard “Everyone finds out” episode that had breathed life into it through each character’s lack of acceptance, and “Normal” was the usual boyfriend comes over fare, but an invented drinking game, “True American” made it stand out. So I was cautiously optimistic about how “New Girl” would treat this subject matter. And my faith was mostly rewarded.

We open with an understandably distraught Cece staring into space, horrified at the prospect of a Schmidt baby. She imagines the newborn nursing 24/7, and Jess adds they’ll need to make a “douche baby jar.” And when they inquire Schmidt about what he was like as a baby she is hardly comforted. Jess is wrestling with her own anxieties since Russell has asked her to watch his preteen daughter (and Jess’ student) for a day that weekend. Of course her biggest obstacle is the behavior of man-children Nick and Schmidt. She forbades Nick from inviting any college girls, but it turns out Nick has settled on one young lady, Chloe, in particular. Winston gets easily the weakest story line. He’s asked to chauffeur his boss, Joe Napoli (he’s racked up some DUIs) to Michael Strahan’s program, “On the Strahan Narrow”—ha! But when he picks him up the radio shock jock, he’s rummaging through other people’s trash.

Zooey Deschanel actually impressed me by pulling off her awkward encounter with Russell’s ex-wife. Her nervous cackling was pitch-perfect, and her panic when the ex refers to Russell as “my husband” even made me uneasy. As for the kid, Sarah, she was inconsistent in believability and in comedic effect. When she tells Nick he has poop eyes, I was disappointed that they were playing her crudely and younger than her age. I thought it would be a perfect opportunity for an “out of the mouths of babes” moment where she could precociously dissect Nick’s regressive dating habits. Maybe I was asking for too much. What we did get had its laugh-out-loud moments though. Her overzealous and disturbing interest in her dad’s sex life made me squirm—as well as the nonsensical and made-up names for sex acts like ‘doing the 99′ or ‘giving plows’—and her obsession with Nick had me rolling at times. Despite Schmidt being the most obviously attractive, Nick is perfect  because he is so flawed and possibly the worst target for his affection (though it would continue the trend of him dating younger and younger…ew).

Schmidt is worried that Cece’s behavioral shift means she wants more substance in their relationship. He proposes they go on their first real date to see Italy on Ice (with a possible guest appearance by Drea de matteo!). Instead, she suggests he take someone else, trying not to make him suspicious of her potential pregnancy. This leads to the most overtly hilarious scene where Schmidt pretends to call another female prospect who is actually Nick. Although Nick isn’t in on this deception so he becomes quite concerned. His initial obliviousness and calm though was the best. Schmidt asks what he’s wearing flirtatiously and he blandly replies, “Button down shirt and jeans like I always do.” There’s many more golden exchanges that you can find in L.O.L.Ls. This sort of setup has been done before, but any chance to delve into complexities of Nick and Schmidt’s friendship is a-okay with me. And it’s a brilliant showcase of what Jake Johnson and Max Greenfield can bring and have brought to the table.

When Cece starts venting about the perils of not using protection (and inappropriately in earshot of Sarah), Schmidt overhears. I thought it was a spectacular decision on the writers part to add flair to this overused story by having him be thrilled with the news. It was nice to see Schmidt’s d-bag facade pulled back a bit to see how sensitive he can be. Despite being a control freak he isn’t thrown off by this interruption to his five-year plan. He believes this might be fate or the universe telling him that he’ll never find a girl better than Cece. But he sabotages these displays of his inner sweetheart soon after. When he assures Cece that he’ll support whatever decisions she makes, he undercuts this touching speech with his concerns that he’ll create a “Russian nesting doll situation” if they have sex while she’s with child. Oh Schmidt, don’t ever change.

Sarah’s rage at the dinner table was satisfying. The death stares at Chloe were sufficiently over-the-top, but within the obnoxiousness of a preteen girl’s raging hormones. Jess’ efforts to calm down her possessive attitude fall flat, but we get the gem of a revelation that Chloe actually knows Sarah from riding on the same school bus together. It just so happens that Chloe is a VERY recent high school grad and is 18 years old. It’s awful, it’s abhorrent and damn funny. Worse yet, Jess suddenly remembers that she subbed a few years back for Chloe’s 8th grade class. This has to be Nick’s rock bottom, but he sure seems to have a lot of them. I won’t say I’m actively rooting for him to stay miserable, but as his life enters into further disarray, he becomes more of a rival for Schmidt as the funniest character on the show.

Jess is infuriated by this sh*tshow and berates Nick and Schmidt for maybe ruining her fling with Russell. Her notion that they insist on “making and/or dating babies” was another reason this may have been one of Deschanel’s best performances. Her anger and unsettled demeanor seemed the most justified it has been, and she never ventured into absurdity. Dare I say she seemed like an adult? She has a lot of work to do before she can become the disciplinarian sort of parent, but she recognizes those faults, which is half the battle. When Sarah’s mom shows up she tries her hardest to get it together. She has Schmidt create a diversion while Nick helps to coax Sarah out of his room. It was apropos that when he’s trying to convince her that her loving feelings are misplaced he realizes that his way of dealing—being numb to it all—is more unhealthy, so he tells he to stay locked up in that room forever. When Sarah finally does walk out she’s stuck in a cocoon of Jess’ bras and Sarah’s mom walks in. This only adds to her disapproval, especially when Cece storms in and kisses the woman because she got her period. Jess makes her peace with it and literally closes the door and declares, “I’m not having kids till I’m 80.” Wise choice.

Regretfully Winston’s side adventure is not as triumphant nor did it incite as much outrageous laughter as the rest of the episode. I didn’t care much at all about what Joe Napoli was going through and I still don’t understand the connection between his apparent hoarding (he buys seven copies of “Speed” on VHS at a yard sale) and his insecurities around Michael Strahan (I did like the idea that he has been a dick since he got his Super Bowl ring), but if anything it showed how Winston is the most put-together of the group. He still could work on his own self-image, but the way he encouraged Joe was admirable. I couldn’t help but feel like this plot was an excuse to pull him out of the main stories because he would have been wasted there, but I wish they had given it a shot. Winston has thrived as the voice of reason, and his dynamic with the others has yielded raucous results in the past. But this was the only major disappointment so maybe I shouldn’t cry over this spilled milk (though milk is a precious commodity in my apartment so that saying does not apply to me).

The “New Girl” writers should be commended too for the serious momentum they created with the final shot before the credits. If Winston is the most mature, Schmidt earned some brownie points this week and is sneaking up on him. He surprised me with the intention of a grand gesture—the words “Marry Me” written in the sky. He ultimately chickens out and prevents Cece from seeing it when she’s adamant that they should return to the way things were, before she had her scare. Since this means they’re back to casual sex, Schmidt rescinds his proposal, but with only a few episodes to go I can’t imagine they’ll abandon Schmidt’s unrequited need for something deeper. I’m unsure if this was supposed to be the end of Russell, since he never appears on screen to disapprove of Jess’ babysitting, only his ex-wife did. I hope it isn’t, because there is a lot of comedic ground they could still cover and Dermot Mulroney has been a delight.

I continue to love these characters and be genuinely pleased by how they interact with one another. Between Schmidt’s fake flirting with Nick, and Jess’ foray into motherhood, it’s obvious these people are dangerously inept at being proper grownups, but who is ever totally ready for that? We’re all a little lost, so why not poke a little fun at it? For staying true to who these people are at their cores, even if they didn’t all get five-star treatment, the episode provided four-star fun. Any show that can make me smile this often cannot be a bad addition to the TV landscape.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “I was the bomb-diggity as a baby. They say I was break dancing at eight months. And they say I needed a magnum-sized diaper.”

- “No bringing in college girls, Berlusconi!”

- “Oh my god I love Nick so much. He’s so hot. I wanna rub my face on his face!”

- Schmidt calls Nick and pretends to flirt with him, then Nick expresses his concerns: “Everything all right? You wanna hang out more Schmidt?”

- Schmidt: “Are you taking care of that tushy?” Nick: “I mean I’m not doing squats or anything. I’m trying to eat less donuts.”

- Schmidt’s elation over Cece’s potential pregnancy: “We made a caramel miracle!”

- Jess, on if Nick is hot: “Yeah, in a rumpled, small town PI kind of way.”

- Do his eyes get sleepy? Does he love stuff? I wanna love what he loves. Do you think we’ll ever do animal style?”

- “I can’t wait to take this journey with you. Your boobs are gonna be unbelievably enormous.”

- Schmidt on how young Chloe is: “She doesn’t even know what Netscape is. She thinks Ice Cube is mainly an actor.”

- Joe Napoli to Winston: “You know if you were a woman, or even dressed as a woman, we’d be unstoppable.”

- Not a line, but I loved when Jess compared their group to The Golden Girls. Jess is DEF Betty White and Schmidt is obviously Rue McClanahan, but what about the rest? Winston is like a mother figure so maybe he is Sophia, but I’m not sure if Nick fits as Bea Arthur. Food for thought.

Given its April 6th debut, there’s a good chance most diehard “American Pie” fans have already seen “American Reunion” by now. If this latest slice left you craving second helpings, never fear. Screenwriter David H. Steinberg recently penned a novel. “Last Stop This Town” follows high school seniors Dylan, Noah, Pike and Walker as they spend their days drag racing down residential suburban streets, bribing homeless guys to buy them beer, and signing yearbooks at pathetic house parties. When Dylan suggests they live up their last weekend of high school at an underground rave in New York, the guys are ready to go crazy and make memories for the ages. Chock full of Steinberg’s signature humor, “Last Stop This Town” should be enough to tide you over between now and the premiere of “American Midlife Crisis.” Here, the writer talks process, poop humor, and why your story won’t go anywhere if you can’t develop characters that make people care.

BLAST: What draws you to coming of age stories? Did you have a particularly interesting coming of age yourself?

DAVID H. STEINBERG: I actually left high school after my junior year to go to college and I’m sure a psychologist would say that writing in the teen genre is my way of filling in the gap in my teenage experience. But I think there’s something more to it than that. It’s just a magical time. Those high school years are the time in everyone’s life when the flood of emotions and surging hormones makes everything seem so important and dramatic and you go through a million highs and lows every day. It’s a time when you really feel alive, and that’s something really cool and unique. Of course, there’s something to be said for those feelings subsiding as an adult and living without the daily drama, but for me, I actually loved that feeling of being invincible, that everything was possible, and that my whole life was still ahead of me. That youthful optimism (and maybe a bit of naiveté) is really what “Last Stop” is all about, as the four friends are about to graduate and go off into the unknown. But it’s also a book about homeless dudes throwing poop at you, so don’t let me pretend this is “Catcher in the Rye.”

BLAST: Which came first: the characters or the plot?

DS: It’s really all about the characters. Once you breathe life into them and know them intimately, then the plot unfolds because that’s what these guys would do. It’s like your vacation pictures. No one cares about the shots of buildings—they only want to see the ones with you in front of the fountain–because people care about people. So I start with high school archetypes—the player, the monogamous guy, the guy who can’t get laid, and the stoner—and then try to build on this to create three dimensional characters. If I’ve done my job well, they become real and unique. Pike starts out as “the stoner” but winds up being a completely new and different take on the original archetype. Look at Spicolli from “Fast Time at Ridgemont High”—same archetype, totally different character.

BLAST: How long has this novel been in the works?

DS: I originally wrote it as a screenplay, then adapted it into a novel because I fell in love with my guys. Overall, the process took four years–not very fast considering it’s under 200 pages. But I have a day job writing and directing movies, so cut me some slack.

BLAST: Which character from your “American Pie” series would you most like to hang out with?

DS: Nadia, duh.

BLAST: Which to do you prefer to write: fiction or screenplays?

DS: It’s hard to choose. Writing for film is a pretty amazing gig. Watching a movie in a crowded theater, seeing your name flash on the screen, and hearing them laugh at your jokes—there’s really nothing that can compare to that. On the other hand, screenplays are like sonnets—the structure and formatting is very restrictive. Plus, when you’re done, other writers re-write you, the director puts his stamp on it, actors improvise, editors move things around—it’s a hugely collaborative medium. Sometimes that’s awesome when talented people “plus” the script and make the movie great. Sometimes it’s not so awesome. Novels are liberating stylistically. I can write what characters are thinking and feeling, and screenplays obviously can only contain moments that can be seen or heard onscreen. But really, it’s about flying solo. If you love or hate my movie, I’m not sure how to take it—I only wrote the screenplay. But the book is all on me.

BLAST: How does your process for writing fiction differ from writing screenplays?

DS: You want to know the biggest brain adjustment? Writing in the past tense! Screenplays are all present tense because it’s technically stage direction. (“Dylan picks up the yearbook,” not “picked up the yearbook.”) But on a less mundane level, it’s really all the same. Create the characters and outline. Months and months of outlining. Write a draft really quickly, then months and months of re-writing.

BLAST: You’ve gotten a lot of praise for penning raunchy scenes that are also somehow sweet. How do you manage to walk this line?

DS: I have to own the raunchy humor, but the truth is I’m all about the drama and emotion of teenagers going through this traumatic time in their lives. Look at the “American Pie” movie posters. “American Pie 2″ was literally just a picture of the ten characters standing there, doing nothing, because the marketing department knew that audiences care about characters, not the specifics of the raunchy humor. I think movies that try to “out-gross” each other without giving us characters to root for ultimately fail because they’re hollow experiences. Look at “Project X.” Sure, it’s funny and crazy, but the characters are unlikeable and no one goes through any sort of relatable life moment. So at the end of the day, who cares?

Now I know there are definitely critical people out there who will think this sounds pretentious and self-aggrandizing because really, I’m a guy who wrote this book where a homeless guy throws poop at people. But for me, it’s about four high school kids going to desperate measures to get beer for a party. Without the characters and the universally relatable situation and emotion, the poop joke isn’t funny. So ultimately, yes, I’m writing some very lowbrow material here, but I’m always also trying to say something worthwhile about the experience of being a teenager.

Last Friday, I was a guest on Michael Graham’s popular talk radio show, which airs from 3-7 p.m., on 96.9 WTKK. I was participating in the final hour of his broadcast–the “That’s a Wrap” segment–during which Graham and other pundits recap some of the news stories of the week. The other guest that night was the great Charlie Hall, the brainchild of the uproarious Mass Hysteria, a “musical, satirical cabaret that pokes fun at the local goings-on, personalities, and politics of Massachusetts.” After the broadcast, Hall was kind enough to extend an invitation to my boyfriend and me to come to the next day’s show for a free viewing, which, of course, I could not resist.

Mass Hysteria isn’t new to Beantown–it debuted more than 15 years ago, receiving rave reviews from critics and audiences alike. Eventually, Hall, a Rhode Island native known affectionately by many as the “Rhode Island State Jester,” put the show on hiatus, deciding to focus his attention on his other creation, Ocean State Follies, a similarly-themed musical spoof about Rhode Island. Perhaps inspired by recent absurdities here in our glorious, uber-liberal, scandal-plagued Commonwealth of Massachusetts (umm … three consecutive speakers of the house thrown in jail?), Hall, a stand-up comic by trade who has appeared on such programs as the Joan Rivers Show, Caroline’s Comedy Hour, America’s Funniest People  and Star Search ’93 (he was a semi-finalist!), felt the timing was ripe in the Bay State for a return to the roast.

“There’s something incestuous about the big cities in New England,” said Hall in an email to me. “We all seem to know each other, are related to each other–it breeds corruption. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining: Without it I’d have no show!”

I had never heard of Mass Hysteria–surprising, given my affinity for politics and the nonsensical folly it often engenders–but Graham couldn’t stop raving about how funny it was, filling me with high hopes for a night full of delicious Schadenfreude as my boyfriend and I headed over to the back room of Club Café this past Saturday night for the 7:30 p.m. performance.

It just so happened that Hall, who greeted us at the door, was starring in the show that night as one of the main performers–one of his cast members had to bow out to commemorate the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt. But the show must go on! Luckily, Hall knew the material cold–after all, he scripted each of the acts and wrote the lyrics to all of the songs–and had a decent singing voice to boot.

The show kicked off with a number on the oh-so-despicable tradition of corruption in Massachusetts, setting up the tone and direction for what was to come. The regular cast members present on Saturday–Tom Berry, Danielle Hecht and Krystal Bly–performed excellently throughout. Given their acting chops, great comedic timing and superb vocal skills, one might wonder why Broadway hasn’t come calling.

Each song was set to a familiar tune, making the sentiment and lyrics even funnier. Cases in point: a Catherine Gregg-Gisele Bundchen duet, played by Hecht and Bly, respectively, made use of Tammy Wynette’s famous tune “Stand By Your Man;” and a biting spoof of Lieutenant Governor Tim Murray’s recent driving mishap, during which he says he fell asleep at the wheel, was set to The Chordettes’ “Mr. Sandman.”

While the show often dealt with various incidents involving state corruption, many acts focused on more lighthearted subjects. Hall’s skits poked fun at all things Massachusetts, from notable politicians (and wannabes), such as Mitt Romney, Elizabeth Warren, Joseph Kennedy III (portrayed hilariously by Berry as an overly ebullient, dunderhead schoolboy who giggles and fumbles awkwardly), Tom “Mumbles” Menino, and Bawney Fwwank (“My Bawney Lies Over the Ocean”) to established institutions and landmarks, such as the MBTA, the completely unremarkable paint-stained gas tank on Route 93 and the Citgo sign, the four beloved Boston sports teams, and the One, the Only … Dunkin’ Donuts. Issues such as the ruckus over gay marriage and casinos (“comiiiing to town”) were also satirized.

Of all the bits during Saturday’s performance, two were, hands down, the funniest: The first was a number featuring Hall as a resurrected Ted Kennedy (a dubious halo hovering above his head, a margarita in hand), flanked by two angels, singing altered lyrics to the tune of “Jesus Christ Superstar”; the second, a pee-in-your-pants skit featuring Berry as a knucklehead professor of “Bostonics,” in which he helped the audience understand, through the use of flash cards, the often-confusing phonics of the Boston accent. My boyfriend and I were in legitimate hysterics.

I highly recommend Mass Hysteria. The acting, comedy, and singing are marvelous, and it feels great to support an unpretentious, grassroots production. There will be a few more shows in April at Club Café (check out www.masshysteriathemusical.com for the schedule), but Hall is looking for additional venues in the coming months. The cast will perform pretty much anywhere (private parties, business meetings or fundraisers) they are hired to go–except Mitt Romney’s backyard.

Russell (Dermot Mulroney) shotguns a beer during a rousing game of "True American."

With the recent change from a letter grade system to a 5-star rating system, this occasion seems less momentous. Nonetheless, it must be recognized that with this week’s episode, “New Girl” is no longer toeing the A-/4.5 star line. Five episodes that have aired in 2012 have been a stone’s throw from validation. They were so close they could smell the greener grass (very potent fertilizer). And although that handful can boast some commendable scenes, and downright hilarious lines, where they come up short of the target, “Normal” hits the bullseye.

Among those episodes that can only bask in the shadow of this week’s undisputed champ were some doozies: “Fancyman Part 2,” “Control,” “Valentine’s Day,” “Jess and Julia” and “Story of the 50.” The similarities are slim. What they share wouldn’t look like much in Venn Diagram. “Control” and “Story of the 50″ were Schmidt-centric, and therefore easily won my affections. “Valentine’s Day” and “Fancyman Part 2″ were great examples of how to best use their ensemble as their competing plots found a way to neatly coincide. And “Jess and Julia” was an experiment that mostly succeeded where the writers decided to pin Lizzy Caplan’s femininity against Zooey Deschanel’s in a well-executed bit of meta-commentary. If there was a trend that could be extracted it was joke volume. These episodes, like many in the second half of New Girl’s first season, decided they were going to shift the focus a tad from the guys’ reactions to Jess’ antics and absurdity to fleshing out what has proven to be a top-notch group. And boy, has the reinvention paid huge dividends

Character-derived and relationship-based humor coupled with sharp wit has become the “New Girl” writing staff’s cash crop. The proof is in last night’s fun-filled pudding. Arguably the definitive sequence of the season shows off the electricity that can be generated when all four actors share the screen. I’m talking about the epic game of “True American.” To explain the rules of “True American” would trivialize its hilarity. Basically, it’s a drinking game, where presidents’ names seem to be shouted at random, and the floor is lava—like in all the best games of pretend, ever. But what absolutely makes the scene jump out at you is how much goddamn fun they’re having. When a show can incorporate an aspect of a group of friends’ lives that seamlessly fits into the chemistry the show has been cooking you know that good work has been done in the writer’s room. Through the magic of characterization, “True American” becomes an unquestionable aspect of their camaraderie because we know who these people are together. The added bonus is Russell’s (Speaking of seamless, how about Dermot Mulroney’s stellar contribution!) disorientation as he acclimates himself to the “rules” of the game. With each beer he shotguns the more he gets it.

And the good times don’t end there. This whole episode exudes a confidence in its ability to incorporate recurring jokes into the episode’s arc. Said arc begins when Jess realizes she has been off on a week-long “sex-cation” (Trademarked by Schmidt) with Russell and misses the guys. Russell would rather undress her immediately at the political fundraiser, but he agrees to spending a night at the loft. Of course, as sitcom outsiders often do, he gets more than he bargained for. Besides a raucous rendition of “True American” he also must navigate the uncool behavior of the guys that they unleash whenever he’s around. The montage of their not-so-normal actions was particularly well-done and indicative of what makes each dude so oddball. Schmidt executes a sneak attack on Russell for a “label check” of his suit, Nick can’t keep his eyes to himself in the bathroom and Winston startles him and entraps him with “Are you scared of black people? It’s 2012.”

But despite Jess’ warnings the guys just can’t be cool. Nick and Schmidt are the worst offenders. Their collaborative awkwardness revolves around an idea in Nick’s idea notebook, a smartphone case that provides features that no app can provide: a Zippo, fork, spoon, corn holder (or a gentleman’s shiv) and more. Essentially, it’s a Swiss Army knife attached to the back called “Real Apps.” It may be the worst invention ever, but it could also be the most harmful. When Nick and Schmidt present Russell with the prototype, they inadvertently stab him (although according to Jess that wasn’t the first stabbing this month). You have to applaud the efficiency of this minor plot because it not only showcases the relationship between Nick and Schmidt, and adds to the lore of what these dreamers can concoct, but it advances the arc of Jess trying to integrate Fancyman into her less-than luxurious world.

The B-plot gave Winston his due air time after his Theodore K. Mullins revival last week. His former basketball coach sets him up with a job interview as an assistant to radio shock jock Joe Napoli (played by real radio personality Phil Hendrie). Of course, this means leaving Elvin behind, abandoning his nanny post. Elvin is actually relieved that he doesn’t have to hold him back and offers help on his resume: “It’s 2012, Winston. Typing is not a special skill.” He ends up securing the position, but Napoli mercilessly teases him about his subpar basketball career. Coworker Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (the real one) even passes him a note saying that he will die there, with a signed autograph at the bottom.

Drunken Russell says his power play should be to dip his balls in Napoli’s daily shakes. Winston decides on the passive approach of quitting. Elvin isn’t having it though, and tattles on Winston to his mom, Gina, that Winston is a pothead. Elvin’s devious smile slayed me. I’d forgotten how much I loved the kid when we met him way back at the Christmas party. In a subtle twist, Winston remembers that he had indeed dip his “beans” in Napoli’s shakes, and scrambles to replace them. However, Napoli already got his mitts on one. Winston knows the risk, but confesses to his gross retaliation. Napoli, somewhat predictably, is impressed by his prank and wants to pull it on Kareem next.

Jess insists on having her first fight with Russell even though peace has been “their thing.” She expresses that despite her unsafe elevators—the cables were too thin, but they signed a waiver and got $100 slashed off their rent—and the whacky men that come with the space, her life is just as important as his. I liked that the conflict wasn’t addressed until the end, and that the rich/poor tension wasn’t overt like in Fancyman Part 1. This time it was an underlying issue. She knew that “True American” wasn’t going to be as sophisticated as a round of golf, but she isn’t a hoity toity person and he either gets all of her (including her south of normal buddies) or none of her. And clearly, silver-haired fox that he is, he wants Jess bad, and we get the reward of watching Schmidt’s jealousy and Nick’s man crush play themselves out for at least another week. I wholeheartedly approve.

I could have included nearly 70% of the lines in L.O.L.Ls this week, but that would be obnoxious. But the quality and efficiency of the jokes deployed was astounding. Whether it was a joke acknowledging Schmece’s ongoing sex parade (I envy him so much) and Jess’ lack of acceptance, or a genius recall of their plumbing troubles—a slapstick treasure where Nick wildly jerks the wooden end of plunger inside the disposal, his fellow men anchoring him like a bobsled team behind him—”New Girl” pulled out some of their best weapons from a exceptional arsenal. For proving its mettle as “True Americans,” displaying great command of its characters and world, and for not overemphasizing a trite conflict so that no joke, reference or continuity would be sacrificed, “New Girl” earns its stripes, and 5 stars.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines 

- Schmidt: “How was your sex-cation with Russell?” Jess: I did have a lot of sex, thank you!”

- “Yeah, you may have birthed the idea, but I midwifed it. I midwifed the crap out of it. It was a messy birth.”

- Nick, greeting Russell at the door: “Hey, I can show you around, I can show you our world. ‘Cause way up here, it’s crystal clear.” Jess (whispers): “Nick, you’re doing Aladdin again!”  Nick (whispers back): “Again?”

- Jess: “Stop copying Russell.” Nick: “I’m not copying him, I love him.”

- “Jess, this room is not for comforting. This is Darwin’s jungle, where open-minded people do weird things to each other.”

- “I’m not gonna get Winklevosse’d because of your sloppiness!”

- Schmidt: “The name is the game, friend-o…That’s why they call it basketball, not peach basket catch-it-up!” Nick: “You just came up with that?!”

- “These are hangover eggs. They either keep you from throwing up, or make you throw up real fast. High risk, high reward.”

- “And if you wanna get with me, you have to get with my friends. And that is a Spice girl song.”

I’ve got a confession to make.

Until Tuesday night I was an “American Pie” virgin.

The first “American Pie” came out in 1999, which means I was about 13 years old and just a little too young to see it. Then I got older, the Clinton Administration ended, I started reading feminist literature in high school, and I never did catch the bandwagon to see either of the sequels, nor of course the straight-to-DVD issues.

I know all the cultural references. I’ve seen the t-shirts and heard the jokes about Stifler’s mom, so it’s not like I was going in blind. But here I was, with an assignment to see the sequel to a major 90s cultural icon, and for once I knew less than the Broseph sitting next to me.

Here’s what I learned:

1. Everyone has a story about the first time they saw “American Pie.” Seriously. It’s right up there in significant life memories as “the first time I had sex”, “the first time I had my heart broken” and “the first time I realized wrestling was fake.”
2. For a series that is supposed to act as a bellwether for teen raunch comedy, “American Reunion” was pretty damn tame compared to a lot of other things I’ve seen.
3. 90s rock music (of which there’s a significant amount in “American Reunion” is still 10,000 times better than David Guetta or dubstep or any other piece of club crap put out within the past decade. Harvey Danger 4 evah.

Your opinion of “American Reunion” is going to be based primarily on whether you find a bunch of 30-year-olds hitting on barely-legal girls in bikinis hilarious or deeply creepy. For me, it was a little of Column A, a little of Column B, probably because I don’t have daughters. The 30-year-olds are our fierce cast from the four previous movies, back in town for their 13th (?) class reunion. Led by hapless Jim (Jason Biggs), now raising a son with his wife Michelle (Alyson Hannigan), most of the group seems very much like most of 30-year-olds I know. They’ve settled into mundane but steady jobs, are either married or in steady relationships, and are more or less happy with their lot. Stifler (Scott) is the exception, of course: permanently stuck at 17 emotionally, he works as the sexist temp in an investment firm, lives to re-live his gang’s past glories, and is perpetually horrified that all his friends have grown up and left him behind.

There’s a lot of bouncing B-cup tits, and jokes about masturbation, and lines about that one time in band camp, more than enough to satisfy the average “American Pie” fan. My personal favorite moment is when a naked and hung over Jim awakes in his family’s kitchen and tries to hide his shame in front of his wife and her friend by covering himself with a pot lid. A transparent pot lid. And Eugene Levy, who pays the rent by appearing in all these movies as Jim’s sweet and over-sharing dad, has a wonderful couple of scenes with Stifler’s mom (the fabulous Jennifer Coolidge).

But Scott is without a doubt the most surprising. I had always assumed that Stifler was just the crass, bullying misogynist that’s contractually required in these movies. And he is all those things, but mostly Stifler is a man who goes through life literally vibrating with manic sexual energy, like a revved engine with the parking brake on. Upon seeing someone he only vaguely remembers from high school, he comes up to the poor bastard with a crazed Joker smile, and says, “Hey, bro, how the fuck are you doing?” It’s a throwaway line, but Scott makes it simultaneously exciting, friendly, hilarious, and slightly terrifying.

It’s not Shakespeare. It’s not even the funniest movie I’ve seen in the last six months. But the best thing I can say for “American Reunion” is this. When I left the theater, I wanted to go back and watch the other ones. I wanted to make that cultural connection, to fully pop my “American Pie” cherry.

And who knows? Maybe I’ll finally get around to watching “Dude, Where’s My Car?”

Jess (Zooey Deschanel) continues to date the Fancyman, Russell (Dermot Mulroney) despite awkward moments.

Don’t look now, but the “New Girl” on the block has a formidable new posse.

And with the quirkiness and “adorkability” quotient spread out among them, instead of being concentrated in the the tractor beam of Zooey Deschanel’s doe eyes, it has allowed the funny elements—like the Fancyman arc—to permeate. Whereas last week undercut the social class clash with a “the gang needs to grow up” mantra, this week ditched any semblance of social commentary for the latter. Wacky escalations of their resistance to evolution end up providing multiple kicks in the pants.

To start the program, in place of a thought-provoking discussion of the staggering wealth gap, we’re treated to a perhaps equally divisive philosophical question: What do you call it when a man pees with a shirt on, but his pants down?  I found this question hilarious, and the continually impressive group dynamic did not disappoint. Jess thought it would be called a “Tony the Tiger,” but Schmidt points out that Tony only sports a bandana around his neck. Winston says it could be any of the Chipmunks: Alvin, Simon or Theodore. But Schmidt seems to have the final word when he surmises, “Any cartoon bear really, except for Yogi, who is just a bear with a tie.”

This scene set the tone for the rest of the episode for me. Though Nick and Jess (and Nick’s law school buddy, Dirk) would be in one setting, and Winston, Cece and Schmidt would occupy another, the thematic tie of this Fancyman epic brought out the best in all of them. And when you have this makeshift family on a collision course to confront an issue it seems to encourage a comedic one-upsmanship among the actors, which coaxed out a gem with a laughs per minute rival to “The Story of the 50″ while challenging “Jess and Julia” in the progress department.

As I alluded to, Dirk (played by bit-part showstopper Martin Starr), has come to visit the loft and Nick seems to be the only one who sees any redeeming qualities within him. Dirk’s a pseudo-acadamic, whose lecture on the link between Dylan Thomas and Bob Dylan said nothing and yet knocked the socks off his undergraduate students. Although, I was unclear if he was the professor of the stereotypically thick-headed coeds, or if he just called himself Professor because he’s a “degree collector” according to Nick. Jess finds him particularly creepy, put off by his lady scarves and his sexual advances equally.

Cece then storms in and after a skeezey come-on by Dirk, Cece admits to seeing someone, whom we all know is Schmidt. So, he takes it to heart when Dirk insinuates that Cece prefers her relationship because she is the boss and her man is the submissive “sex-retary.” One thing you can’t deny about Dirk, he may essentially be a pretentious bum, but he does read people effectively. Therefore, when Cece throws herself and a granola bar at him, begging to add something called “The Horse Trough” (this prospect both excited and scared the crap out of me) to their sexual repertoire, Schmidt is for once not in the mood. Cece summons her “girls” (coincidentally actress Hannah Simone does have it going on in the chest area, and pulls off her role as a supermodel convincingly) to settle the argument. Schmidt calls them Harold and Kumar (tee hee). And although I’m sure the pair has squashed many a squabble, Schmidt only reminisces on the many zany adventures they’ve had, but insists he can’t go to White Castle.

Winston asks to borrow Schmidt’s car, nay “Manbulance,” (every detail about Schmidt, including his possessions are tailored to perfection) to drive newly anointed girlfriend, Shelby, to the airport. She’s off to Mexico with the girls, and she seems to be searching for a reason not to go. Winston acts the part of supportive boyfriend, but botches the execution by saying, “We could both use some space.” Dirk breaks it down for him post-lecture: when you don’t allow a woman room to move, then it’s hard for her to have sex with other people. But when you give her space to move around, she could be having so much sex. It’s basic, and assumes the worst in women, but his teachings worry Winston to the point of panic.

Then we come to Jess, and the Fancyman saga. Her second date with Russell (Dermot Mulroney) ends awkwardly when he leans in, only to give her an affection-less back pat. On their third date, with the lingering tension from that mishap hanging over her, Jess awkwardly (as she’s prone to act when under pressure) avoids the topic—in the worst and yet funniest way possible—with references to his age, such as how sad it was when the Beatles broke up (he was one) and if he’s gotten his prostate checked (she had her breast exam and it’s all boob in there). After Russell catches on to her antics she blurts out, “Why didn’t you kiss me the other night?” Subsequently, he receives a text and bolts. He leans in again too, but only to leave her $100 for cab fare.

A busy night soldiers on with Cece desperate for some Schmidt-tastic sex. This concerned me slightly, only because this insatiable side is the only we’ve seen, but when she confesses to not wanting to mess with what they have later, those worries were assuaged. Still, I hope that the dimensions of Cece are more defined if the relationship does indeed last. If anything else, it was silly to see such a knockout struggling to seduce Schmidt and come up short. Cece then concedes she will do anything, anywhere. Without hesitation, Schmidt deploys Fantasy Location #3, setting up a reveal that I trusted “New Girl” would follow through.

Dirk attempts to boost Nick’s confidence, claiming he used to melt the panties off girls in law school. “If panties were snow, you were March, bro.” But Nick is painfully out of his element as he reluctantly consents to an afterparty in the loft. When he realizes, however, that twenty-year old girls think he’s awesome just because he knows how to make drinks, he embraces their carefree antics and his inner frat boy comes out to play. He brags to Jess, “I’m Skylar’s Fancyman,” bringing it all full circle with the first part (last episode) where he had admired the pride and prowess of Russell, having not felt that kind of nobility since those collegiate glory days. Even Jess joins in when she returns, depressed that she’s pushing thirty and “will probably die alone.” She escapes into a realm where she reigns as “Flip Queen.” (for my older set, Flip Cup is a drinking game where…well, you flip cups).

After leaving a crazed message, that comes off more creepy than sincere (“I want the air you breathe to be the air I breathe until we’re both inhaling carbon dioxide and we pass out and die”), Winston “borrows” the Manbulance. Now, let’s play a game real fast. Where do you think Fantasy Location #3 is? I’ll wait….Time’s up. If you guessed the trunk of the Manbulance you win! What’s that? Oh, you get nothing, just the satisfaction of—yeah, I let myself down, too. But that twist felt earned to me, because Schmidt would pride himself on having sex in the roomy trunk of his car.

Winston doesn’t discover their presence until a prying border patrolman notices them when Winston crosses back into America after a phone reconciliation with Shelby . I adored the cheesiness of his pleas to win back her affections like, “You make me so brave” and referring to her “soul song.” The sort of nod that black folks don’t talk that different in relationships from white folks was refreshing. I thought a lot of the jokes were as witty as they were sophomoric actually. Also, any time I’m blessed with hearing Lamorne Morris belt out the soundtrack to “Wicked” (which I may, or may not, know well myself) is wonderful. The horror and utter disbelief was sold by Morris as well, and I can already tell next week will be a hilarious reveal for Nick and Jess. Does this mean I need to give them a couple name? How does Schmece (pronounced SHMEE-CEE) sound?

The denial duo get far too plastered before Russell shows up to talk privately with Jess. He selflessly offers rides to some of the young females, and Nick tags along and confirms my past commendations of drunken Nick. But besides that, a small miracle occurs. Dermot Mulroney pulls off potentially the single worst line, on its own, that I’ve ever heard. And yet he delivers it with such charisma, vulnerability, and silver-haired foxiness that even as a straight man I’m sold: “I wanted to kiss you the other night. I wanted to do more than kiss you. I’d like to ‘do’ you at some point. I can really give it to you. But I’ve forgotten how to tell when it’s the right moment. I was nervous.” HOW IN THE WORLD?! If I EVER tried that line out on a woman, I would get slapped so hard I’d consider a lawsuit for pain and suffering and worker’s compensation for all the recovery time necessary. And he, got his kiss. But that’s the timeless allure of Dermot Mulroney for you.

Thanks to Mulroney, and Martin Starr’s static shock-inducing dry wit, this episode reeked of sleaze. But it never felt malicious or threatening, and sort of exuded a humility, a desperation for something, someone, to hold on to. The justification for the Fancyman saga is centered around how it forced everyone involved to grow up. Winston and Shelby and Schmece (I like it) were able to voice what they mean to each other, Jess expressed her concerns that she wasn’t sophisticated enough for Russell (who apparently owns a hot air balloon and a hangar), and Nick will surely have a revelation about the direction of his life once “the poison” has left his body. Speaking of which, Nick panicking post-puke, thinking he was lost in the woods when the car couldn’t have been more than thirty yards behind him, was comedic gold. And I must admit, even sober, I don’t know the answer to his inebriated pondering, “When does a hill become a mountain?”

For sticking the landing on what seemed like a crummy excuse for a two-parter and for executing four separate plots—and intersecting them effortlessly, so that they consolidated into two by the end—that expanded upon the concept of maturation for each of them, I must acknowledge the self-awareness that has been masterfully woven into the fabric of the series. Elizabeth Meriwether and company took what could have been a cash cow, and has made it possibly prize-winning pig—both smart and filthy. As I’d alluded to, it’s up there with the other contenders which narrowly missed a KO, but scored a nothing-to-sneeze-at A-.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “Guys my age…they just wanna go for the gold. And I’m stingy with my gold, unless they dig for it.”

- Cece: Hey someone left your front door open. Dirk: Someone left your face beautiful.

- “Russell said he runs with the bulls, and quote, not the tourist-y ones in Pamplona, end quote.”

- “If you’re going to seduce me, don’t dress up like my Aunt Frieda at Seder.”

- Undergrad student Skylar to Nick: “You can get me drunk, professionally?”

- “Why is the cast of ‘The Social Network’ in our apartment?”

- Schmidt: So you’re saying you’d rather sit in my urine for the rest of the car ride than admit to Winston we’re sleeping together?  Cece: Yup absolutely don’t even have to think about it.

- Schmidt: That’s a stop sign.  Winston: I think it’s a go sign. Because if someone like you is sleeping with someone like her, then maybe the whole damn world’s upside down.”

- “Look at ‘em! They don’t know what ‘Saved by the Bell’ is and they’ve never felt pain!”

Class differences intimidate Jess as she dives into a romance with a wealthy father, Russell (Dermot Mulroney).

While I wouldn’t call “New Girl’ mindless, I would never expect the show to tackle larger social issues on a macro level. If Jess had watched the “Kony 2012″ video and been outraged they could have gotten some mileage out of that. Or perhaps Nick runs out of gas, but refuses to pay such exorbitant prices so he starts hitchhiking to work. I’m just spitballing here, but “New Girl” is a show about twentysomething struggles that are highly attuned to the neuroses of their “core four” and is only interested in social ills in the context of how they throw a wrench into the delicate balance of their shambled lives.

That said, I can reluctantly forgive the reductive way in which the income inequality gap was addressed in “Fancyman (Part 1).” I mean, how could you take an episode with that title seriously? It might as well have a fake mustache and be “making it rain” with Monopoly money. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t it anger me when Jess’ new love interest, Russell (played with the usual silver-haired debonair by Dermot Mulroney), instructed Nick that he didn’t have a lucrative job, or at least a formidable credit score, because he hadn’t grown up yet and was still a lazy, unmotivated kid. Essentially, he recycled the “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” cliche, which on a societal scale is far too simplistic and paints the majority of Americans (therefore much of the 99% bunch) with a broad brush.

However, when you consider Nick as the sole test subject, Russell hit it on the nose. Nick was enrolled in law school and dropped out. Though the show has yet to fully pin down his reasons (if he was miserable, I wouldn’t want to commit him to a profession he hates), he had opportunities offered to him that he refused to take. If I were asked to engage Russell in a discussion about the acquisition of his wealth, I would vehemently oppose the idea that everyone    can succeed as he has in the current economic climate. Thankfully, he’s fictional, so I can dismount my political high horse. I’ve made my peace with what I perceived was an insult to the Occupy movement’s outrage with corporate greed. I realizied that Russell and Nick are the smallest of samplings and it would be equally presumptuous to say that Nick is poor because he’s been mightily oppressed when all evidence suggests he’s stuck himself in this rut.

While implied political statements may have distorted, for me, any message to be gleaned, there were successful moments of character. Nick popped out of his misery-shell once he entered Russell’s man castle, seduced by his symbols of power and Jess faced her fear of men who “have it altogether” and therefore won’t need her caregiving abilities. Winston still gets shafted again though with the standard “she’ll love you for who you are” lesson, which didn’t ever seem to be an issue for him. Though he’s searching for an identity now that his basketball career has fizzled out, he’s never exhibited insecurities so much as a competitive streak. And Schmidt delivers a barrage of snaky remarks from the peanut gallery after being the center of attention last week.

Russell strolls into Jess’ classroom (rocking a bowler hat and a Mr. Monogamy name tag that’s somehow related to teaching sexual health) with fatherly concerns about his daughter, Sarah (who never appears strangely) and whether her focus on art has made her deficient in more practical areas of study. Jess resents Russell’s insinuations rejecting the stifling of creativity in favor of hunkering down on math. Regardless, the principal acknowledges that since he’s the third biggest donor to the school he deserves a say. Jess then rallies around Nick’s anti-rich stance, “We’re right where they want us, suckling on the teet of consumerism.” Fired up for her mini-Marxist revolution, she’s literally stalled when her car breaks down on the way to give Russell a dressing-down. Conveniently (as in TV-convenient) Russell happens to be stuck behind her and offers to have “his guy” tow her bucket and let her borrow his ride. Insulted at first, Jess is eventually persuaded by the smooth operator to accept his offer of kindness.

A confused Jess consults Cece about being entangled with someone of Russell’s status: “I only like guys who are free from success and think someone famous stole their idea. I like an underdog.” Sensing a destructive pattern, Cece suggests Jess date someone she doesn’t need to baby. This is an astute observation, and one I’m glad the show addressed. Despite the initial premise conveying that Jess would be the chaos introduced in the lives of three gentlemen, she ended up becoming the caregiver they DESPERATELY needed. The formula where the gang bands together to support Jess has been abandoned in the new calendar year, and now that Jess has gotten her sea legs she’s spicing up the complacency that had cast its shadow over the loft before she arrived. All the same, upholding the role of mother hen is not the healthiest way to construct a romantic relationship. Cece’s reality check then does the doubly important task of jolting Jess and furthering the mission statement of internal change we’ve been seeing across the board.

Nick then accompanies Jess to Russell’s palatial mansion for moral support. After mocking his kitchen decor, he enters his home office and is awestricken with its manly atmosphere—and smell, “It smelled like Shakespeare, if he were a damn cowboy, and boat fuel and cigars…man stuff!” This was the funniest portion of the episode because of how it transformed Nick into a willful victim of materialism. Corrupted by leather furniture and a wooden desk, we saw a side we’d never seen. Nick has had his goofball moments no doubt ( the “Bully” episode where he drives away Julia with his seven-voicemail panic attack), but the focus wasn’t on over-the-topness this time around, but an unresolved desire of his to command men, be self-made.

While Nick played pretend, Jess finally gets her confrontation. After being assaulted by a Japanese bidet, she says that she doesn’t care if he pulls the donation. She is going to teach her students how she sees fit. Russell never had that intention though, and he’s puzzled as to where Jess’ resentment comes from. After storming out, Nick convinces Jess to not be intimidated by his wealth—admitting he could be saying this because he’s in love with him (but really his things). Jess consents to have dinner with “Fancyman” opening the door of the ominous part 2.

As mentioned Winston gets a lame excuse for a plot, another fit of taking competition too seriously. This time it’s bar trivia, which Schmidt dominates. His sarcastic belittling cracked me up, especially when he admits to saying some pretty douchebag jar-worthy things. Also tacked on is our re-introduction to Alvin, that kid from WAY BACK in “The 23rd” where Schmidt’s boss offers him the job as part-time nanny. We have never seen him with the kid and it angered me because I never knew he took the job. There was the first really egregious continuity error as far as I can recall, and it didn’t affect any of the comedy or plot severely, I just wish the kid hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth. Couldn’t they have incorporated some silly excuse for why he hasn’t been around into the dialogue? *Deep breath* I suppose, I’ll just let it go. At any rate, his charge helps him study, with some hilarity, but ultimately he can’t beat The Master of All Knowledge, Schmidt. Obviously his old flame that he hopes to rekindle, Shelby, couldn’t care less about his prowess at stupid bar games. She didn’t need to even be impressed. She just wanted him. Awwww…Then the moment is promptly  killed by Schmidt, asking if he should play some Jodeci while they makeout. You’re so down, my brother.

Since I can’t completely ignore how their perspective on class issues irritated me, last night’s episode was up and down. Nick was a bright spot with his obsession over Russell’s possessions, and Jess’ progression as an eligible bachelorette was pleasant to witness. But with my boy Schmidt in the background and Winston still getting the short straw, this week will suffer the consequences of the unfair distribution of wealth. Try harder “New Girl!” Clearly those other critically acclaimed shows are putting forth more effort! Ah, if only the sitcom game were like the American economy, huh? Oh wait….With an inadvertent splash in the koi pond, New Girl stumbles into Part 2 of Jess’ misadventures with Fancyman, with a B-.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- Winston knows Nick isn’t making a populist statement by not owning a cell phone: “You were denied a cell phone because you have the credit score of a homeless ghost.”

- Jess: “Yeah! I’ll throw my phone in the fiery chasm where he keeps his poor people!” Nick: “Actually scratch that. My mom has your number in case of an emergency.”

- Winston: “I know what Mesopotamia is.” Alvin: “Use it in a sentence.”  Winston: “Look, there’s Mesopotamia!”

- “A kitchen island? Be a man, let your kitchen counter attach to itself.”

- “When I touch this desk, I feel sexually proficient for the first time in my life.”

- Nick strokes a wooden duck: “I wanna kill you, because I respect you. (shouts to Jess) I think I understand hunting.”

- “I hope you’re better in bed because your street work is embarrassing.”

- Entire end-credits sequence, where Nick pretends to be various executives seated at Russell’s desk, had me in stitches. A couple gems were: “Yes, this is the president of Earth. I’d like to speak to the galactic emperor? Yes, it’s about money” and “So is China mine, Mr. Ying?

Brothers Jay and Mark Duplass’s talent shines through their new film, “Jeff, Who Lives At Home.” And with the help of actors Jason Segal and Ed Helms, this film could very well put them on the map

To start off, the movie is just fun, but how can it not be, especially when you have actors like Segal and Helms, and even Susan Sarandon who is guilty of making it hard for the audience to suppress their laughter? There is nothing conventional about this film or the family in it, and that is why you can’t help but to fall in love with everything about it.

The film did have its moments where it seemed to be slow and drifting, but it was at that moment when something unforeseen takes place. It’s why the film was so successful; the directors always the audience wondering what could possibly be next. So I think it’s only proper to give credit where credit is due. Jay and Mark Duplass put together a great film.

“Jeff, Who lives at Home” starts off with Segal, who plays the very unique title character, recording his journal-esque thoughts. The movie begins with Jeff saying, “I watched ‘Signs’ again last night. It gets better every time you see it.” First of all, who still watches “Signs,” and second of all it was impossible to even attempt to take him serious since he was recollecting his thoughts while sitting on a toilet. And I don’t use unique too lightly for a 30-year-old stoner man with a free spirit personality and a residence in his mother’s basement. Jeff has this overbearing innocence to him that makes you want to punch his brother, Pat, played by Ed Helms, in the face whenever he makes a condescending comment. Rooting for Jeff from the beginning of the movie is completely unavoidable.

The story takes place in Baton Rouge, La. and begins when the mother (Sarandon) asks Jeff to go to the store to buy wood glue. This errand sends Jeff on a life changing experience that shows the audience how truly tragic each family member’s life is. Jeff is portrayed as this complete nobody, it’s as if the only thing he can do correctly is hit a bong without coughing up a right lung. His brother Pat has a lousy marriage that is deteriorating and he is way too clueless to even comprehend it. And their mother feels as if there is no purpose to her life at all. Yet, through all the chaos of the events that take place, you can’t help but want to make sure that Jeff is going to be okay.

Jeff is convinced that there are such things as destiny and fate, and throughout the film he is engrossed with trying to figure out if he is on the right path in achieving his. His bases his theory’s on the film by M. Night Shymalan, Signs. He thinks that there are all these signs pointing us to path of our lives. From beginning to end, it’s hard to not be envious of his free thinking and open mind.

There is no way that you will be able to predict the end of the movie, but one thing is for sure, it might encourage you to call up your sibling that you might be fighting with when the lights turn back on. If anything, Mark and Jay do a brilliant job of leaving you contemplating about the universe and how somehow, we might all be connected.

Nick incurs serious debt to Winston from a poker game, and Jess tries to get Schmidt to relax on "New Girl."

I suppose this is one of those “truth will set me free” moments. So it’s confessional time with all you surrogate Fathers (and Mothers?) As much as Schmidt makes my heart sing, last night’s episode showed he could not carry the show as the lead.

Do not misunderstand, he’s still the most consistent source of laughs. But often the most side-splitting character is as such because he the personification of his neuroses or quirks. “New Girl,” as it has started to add more shading and definition to its rough-sketch first season, is attempting to break Jess free from this one-note mold to strengthen her sustainability as the lead. But Schmidt as one of the surrounding ensemble can afford to be a messy amalgamation of douche and OCD tendencies.

So my proclamation above is not a concession. Quite to the contrary, I thought this episode justified Schmidt’s presence even more, however Schmidt is no anchor. Despite his status as “order incarnate” he serves the role of Chaos. Jess may be the rogue element that “messes with the delicate ecosystem,” but tonight’s and all proceeding episodes she is the glue that binds these four separately insufferable people together…as a singular mass of insufferableness, with a big ole heart.

Now if Jess’ role is as the general that rallies the troops that molds the boys into men, then what is Schmidt’s role as roommate? That question serves as the focal point of “Control,” which is answered in unison by Nick, Winston and Jess: “You’re the mom.”

At the onset, the two influential women in Schmidt’s present both make suggestions that he change who he is fundamentally. Cece, still ashamed by her late-night Schmidt cravings, continues to drop him off a distance away from the loft so their friends are none the wiser. And surprisingly, Schmidt doesn’t like being treated like some man for hire. As he vents: “I have no control (whoomp, there it is) and it’s stressing me out.” Though it’s important to note, his objections do not stem from the emotional distance. His douchey side can reconcile that since, I mean, why rock the boat when your current situation allows you to sleep with a sickeningly gorgeous model? But the lack of a consistent schedule, or any say in when he will be summoned, has the neat freak on edge. Cece simply scoffs and says, “We’re just being spontaneous, you need to relax.”

Then after walking a mile barefoot back to his place, Jess further incenses his sensibilities when she tries to install a new fixture: a pine hutch she found on the side of the road. Looking to regain the control that has stripped from him, he says the hutch has got to go. Dismayed because she has nothing outside of her bedroom that she has contributed to the space, Jess pushes back, ignoring the seasoned vets in Schmidtness, Nick and Winston, who warn her that she’ll rue her efforts.

The scene that follows may have yielded the most laughs for me because the physical pain in Schmidt’s expressions is hands-down hilarious, and, refreshingly, Jess’ reigned-in and calculated responses—like her sarcastic, poorly French-accented staging of the forbidden intermingling between Tahitian and non-Tahitian spices: “What’s it like living in the most populated island in French Polynesia?” “I could tell you, or, I could show you.” The power struggle escalates even more from there with Jess intentionally shelving Schmidt’s top-of-the-line coffee grinder—a conical one, so it actually grinds the beans instead of smashing them like some “pedestrian blade grinder”—in the hutch, inciting his rage. It ends with the hutch tipped over and the glass shattered on the floor and the admission that he may have a problem

Resolved to help Schmidt be more spontaneous, Jess takes him to the boardwalk. In an ingenious stroke of comedy and camerawork, as Jess details all the pleasant aspects of the beach (the birds, the wind, the ocean) we inhabit Schmidt’s point of view which can only focus on the rodents eating trash, the dirty needles lying on the ground, and the kite  that flies into his face. This causes him to stand his ground and preach the importance of structure in his life. Ignorant of his needs, Jess is resigned to her philosophy that he needs to loosen up. It was pleasant on a non-comedic level too, to see their two belief systems pitted against each other. They both share an adherence to particular world views, and it’s common in our world for such stringent beliefs to cause friction. Often sitcoms will just chalk it up to “personality clashes,” but its often more deeply engrained and proves to be a barrier in establishing any sort of harmony.

But as these situations tend to play out, Schmidt slowly takes steps toward letting go. He uses a public restroom, and when Nick spills some beer to test him, he’s able to count to ten and be serene. Winston and Nick immediately worry that Jess has awoken a sleeping giant. Or, in this case, a hygiene-deficient, drum circle-joining, street meat wrapped in street meat-eating freak. Since his new bohemian lifestyle translates to no cooking and cleaning for the other three, Jess realizes her grave error. As spoken by sage Nick Miller: “Being friends with Schmidt is really complicated. You wanna change him so badly, but you can’t. Because he’ll only get worse.”

Sean Hayes guest stars as Buddy Wood, an Indianapolis talk show host itching to speak with Leslie about her campaign.

My man crush on Nick Offerman reached unhealthy levels after last night’s episode, because it was he who penned the script, his first of the series. Considering the commanding screen presence and comedic intuitiveness displayed in his portrayal of the manly, meat-loving libertarian, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but by and large his proficiency for character authenticity did not miss a beat, and may have even surpassed that of his peers as he was able to allot equal yucks to each his beloved cast members.

We drop in on Leslie as she’s picking out an outfit  for an interview with Indianapolis’ number one talk show host, Buddy Wood. The last five city council candidates to appear on his program have won their respective elections and after the events of last week, where she was out-dueled by Kathryn Hahn, she could use the boost in good pub. But in a strange turn, Leslie is the one wanting to kick back, trying on horrendous attire like leather pants that say “Nympho” across the butt (Tom says it’s a “maybe”) and Ben is wound-up tighter than…well, those nympho pants. Almost immediately after his departure, Ben calls to say the interview has been cancelled. Following this news, a surprisingly stable Tom and Ann (who have been together for thirty-eight hours straight, only nine hours share of their personal best) encourage Leslie to loosen up. Leslie’s gun-ho and suggests they go out drinking to capitalize on her pre-interview adrenaline. As a fan, I was immediately giddy because I knew this meant more drunken misadventures, which have never disappointed (see: Snake Juice).

Andy studies for his Women’s Studies final at the community college with the help of Ron and April. Initially terrified of the oral exam, he wants to fake sick, but Ron insists that’s not how grownups deal with tough situations. So he grits his teeth and buckles down, regurgitating feminist theory with an almost robotic efficiency, which may be due to the Cheetos (or treats) he receives with every right answer. I adored watching Andy speak with alacrity about Laura Mulvey and her paper on the male gaze in cinema. It was a paper I read last semester in my gender studies course, and it established an immediate connection to the script, and was impressed by Offerman’s aptitude in incorporating this complex theory for comedic effect. Andy’s thorough review of the material pays off, considering how over prepared he ended up being for a Pass/Fail exam. To celebrate he invites his professor, Linda, to join him, Ron and April for dinner, adding another silly feminist joke about how he’ll “let her pay for her own food, because of equality.”

The tertiary plot is an inert one, but a laugh riot. Jerry is stuffing envelopes for Leslie at a shocking pace, and Donna simply stares in amazement, canceling a date just so she can watch Jerry in his element. To see him perform even a menial task with this level of competency is quite baffling, but the combined absurdity is what keeps it fresh each time we return to it. When this thread is clipped by Jerry realizing he’d been inserting the wrong flyer the whole time, it renews our love/contempt for Jerry, who even when he’s rolling, is prone to messing up. And his eagerness to repeat the process just fascinates and delights all the more.

Leslie’s inevitable drunkenness from fiery tequila shots is a short-lived thrill for her as Ben calls to alert her that Buddy Wood’s flight is delayed, so he will have time to squeeze in an interview. This induces a panic in Leslie, but as she’s proven time and time again, she is cool as a cucumber under pressure. Her clutch, flu-ridden performance in a speech to potential donors for the Harvest Festival was the stuff of legend. Leslie pulling out the “W” here, was a given. Except Buddy Wood wasn’t interested in highlighting an ambitious candidate. He’s out for the dirt. Like most of P&R’s satire, they nailed this particular lampooning of the instigative media, who often tries to stir up negative emotions in their subjects, hoping for scandal. Wood badgers her about the decrepit conditions of the municipal airport, insults the townspeople by calling them sad, and won’t back down when he introduces Ben and their prior scandal of an affair at work. Leslie furrows her brow and insists upon a topic change, but her pride in Pawnee overcomes her will to appear sober, and she blurts out that she’s had a couple drinks. Like a kid at Christmas, Wood is jittery about the journalistic gold he’s just discovered.

At the restaurant, April notices that Chris is at the bar alone (reading “Limb-itless,”  a story of a women who tried to swim across an ocean with no arms or legs and immediately drowned) and invites him to join, acting as matchmaker again. I’m starting to really become enthralled with the consistent progress April makes each week toward concerted efforts to help in ways she isn’t obligated to. I assume the pattern will reveal its hidden agenda at/near season’s end, but for now it’s lovely just to see her relishing in the cognitive dissonance of being dispassionate, but compelled to take care of her friends.

Presumably, Chris and Linda hit it off. He is well-versed in feminist thought, and she shares his enthusiasm for physical health. Ron simply sits back as spectator with his three Porterhouse steaks. When Chris makes his move and asks Linda on a date, she declines saying she just got out of a tough relationship. Chris, with his sunny disposition is undeterred, believing that they can reconnect at another time. After all, he is the microchip. But alas, when Ron suggests that he still has room left for after-dinner omelets at J.J’s, Linda whispers that he should go to her place instead. And the paradoxical legend that is Ron Swanson continues. Though it isn’t a simple sitcom switcheroo. With how strong women have shaped Ron’s life, he just may be the most vehement, if not silent feminist. And there’s just no denying the sex appeal that comes with that man’s affinity for chowing down on cow.

Ron comes in to work the next day, his usual post-sex Bizarro Ron, offering up donuts and wearing power red like Tiger Woods on Sundays. But Andy reminds his mentor that as a grownup he must deal with tough situations (then Andy eventually remembers aloud that Ron was the wise man who told him that). So he approaches Chris and apologizes for his carnal instincts and Chris excepts, but not without a throwaway remark of how lonely he is. I’ve enjoyed Chris’ vulnerability, but must admit that my pity for him might where thin, seeing as he hasn’t done much to help himself (and oddly un-Chris behavior).

In a frenzied attempt to steal back the tape and prevent a catastrophic blow to Leslie’s election hopes, Tom conjures up the hot tub limo and they motor over to Indianapolis. In a manner apropos of this week’s title, Wood’s bags were lost and the tape with it, and any proof of Leslie’s on-air inebriation is in the ether. Of course, the perceived luck isn’t so at all. Karma is enacted by the Pawnee Municipal Airport employees, who in response to Buddy’s petty jabs at their livelihoods, decided to accidentally dispense of Wood’s belongings in the dumpster. It’s a fitting tribute to Leslie, and to the sprit of Pawnee. Nothing Wood said was inaccurate. Pawnee is out of date, and frankly a depressing place to live for anyone looking to launch into the 21st century. But Pawneeans are loyal people. They may be misguided, fat, and perhaps even corrupt, but they stand by their own. And it is because Leslie is the sharpest and most capable representation of their best selves that they will likely vote her councilwoman.

The precedent set last week of immovable walls, held up this week. Campaigning is a tedious process, one not often rife with giggles, but grim reality. And if not for the dedication to the quirks of the players involved, the series could have come to a grinding halt. But by sticking to the old adage of “show don’t tell” we have been able to witness the unravelings and the improbable regenerations of Leslie’s dreams materializing time and time again. We know her like a sister, a fellow compatriot, a champion of what is just, and when she’s entrapped by Buddy Wood, we’re horrifed with her. They’ve constructed a gripping political thriller around the funnest, brightest souls in the fictional Midwest and damn if it doesn’t bring a smile to our faces to see her come out the other side unscathed.

Tom and Ann haven’t fizzled out yet, but they used the volatility of their relationship to noble comedic ends by illustrating Tom as a ticking time bomb. He can be fun to be around and charming for a good streak of time, but then he buys you four dozen flavored condoms and you remember why you despise him. As Tom’s tendency for self-fulfilling prophecy goes, my tolerance for this plot goes. But with a 4-week hiatus* before us, I suppose I will have the time to learn to appreciate it.

An all-around amusing episode of “Parks” is hard to stay mad at though. Reservations about the “direction” of certain character arcs aside, it was a merry occasion. I fist pumped at Ron’s power red, I beamed at Andy’s attempts at comprehending psychoanalytic approaches to feminism, and I was awestricken by Jerry’s mechanical zeal for office work. I can’t imagine a more charismatic and dynamic candidate for the most lovable comedy on TV. For providing yet another injection of the warm and fuzzies, while maintaining biting commentary and sophomoric wit, I’ll overlook any evidence of imperfections as “Parks” earns my vote for a second straight week with its recipe of good ole, homegrown fun, with hints of sweetness and zest. A.

*Let’s have a moment of silence to mourn. “Parks and Recreation” will not return until April 19th. God help us all as try to find solace in these troubling times.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “If there’s one thing I know it’s…my fantastic…it’s talk.”

- “You know who the president of the Boring Club is?” “Me?” “Nope, you lost the election because your speech was too boring.”

- “He’s like a strict mother I’m confusingly attracted to—Ben is like a MILF.”

- “If they got together, they would make a Superbaby. But what if Superbaby got too powerful?”

- “I’ve never had a boyfriend threaten to commit arson for me before!” “Eh, it gets old.”

- “Here, you kids go buy yourself a Walkman. How much does a Walkman go for these days?”

- “I’m quite lonely.” “Aw f**k.”

- “Don’t punish me, I took a risk!”

Jess, Nick, Schmidt and Winston (left to right) team up for some touch football, but end up tackling deeper issues.

Will witty, daring comedies forever be overshadowed by groundbreaking dramas because of its intrinsic not-seriousness?

Oftentimes, sitcoms of the traditional order will have “important episodes” where a serious subject matter is injected into this comic universe in an effort to manufacture an artificial sense of importance, but then it’s back to shenanigans a week later. Other shows will pour on the sap. An easy way to tap into the maple tree of emotions is love. No one that inhabits this earth (except the psychopaths, shout-out to Rush Limbaugh!) hasn’t experienced it, and there may never be anything more crucial to your existence then how or who you love.

“New Girl,” like its funny predecessors, feels compelled to be taken seriously, or at least make people cry. So far, on its mission to be noteworthy we have seen many an episode tackle the potentially volatile perkiness of its heroine. In “Jess and Julia” (a contender for the best all-around episode of the series so far) there was a head-on collision of value systems, and Jess was challenged for being superficial and naive. And in “Landlord,” Nick insisted that people are general jerks, and Jess assuming good in others is dangerous. In both instances, Jess came out with her beliefs intact, because whether or not it’s the “right” course of action its who she is, and it helps her navigate this distrusting world with a smily-faced stride.

This week, although her “Jessence” looms largely over the proceedings, Nick is the focus of intense character examination. Though Schmidt has been my favorite character and source of comedy, Nick has been built into the bevy of introspection. He has the richest backstory of all the roommates (Jess included) and is also the most self-loathing. It was always slightly troublesome that I found his pain so hilarious, but now it’s clear: he’s an extrapolation of the twentysomething anxiety. He can’t afford the basic necessities to take care of himself, he’s consumed with how he is perceived by others, and as he divulges, “If I don’t know what’s going to happen, I don’t do it.”

What started with Jess ramming into Nick in a game of touch football, escalated (as is required per maximum laughs) into the threat of thyroid cancer. Sadie reappears (June Diane Raphael) as the OB/GYN, and only doctor friend who won’t charge him, that discovers the could-be tumor when examining his back injury. In a humorous back and forth, she tells him not to take some pain pills because she can’t legally prescribe them to him (they’re intended for heavy menstrual cramps), but Nick gets psyched out and is unsure whether he should swallow them.

Once Jess tells the rest of the gang about Nick’s flirtations with death, silly overreactions commence, culminating in Winston’s delightful and spot-on Aaron Neville impression, Schmidt attempting drunken-freestyle and sober Cece picking up the slack before Jess confronts the real issue: Nick doesn’t want to admit he could be brushing up against death because he doesn’t do anything. Nick resists the accusation at first, but realizes soon after that besides a half-written zombie novel, he’s been too afraid to put himself out there. Whereas some folks can jump in an ocean at night, Nick stays behind to watch their wallets. This prompts the five-some to haul ass to the oceanside so Nick can cleanse himself of his fears. In a refreshing twist, his fears are confirmed by the frigid waters.

Though the obligatory tenderness of this “special episode” does occur, it was tastefully done. Schmidt copes by focusing on the sand imprint of Cece’s perfect butt, and she sets him straight when she references her dead father and how Schmidt will just have to “get through it.” Nick caves a bit and expresses his gratitude that Jess has come into his life, and it caused me to panic some. His goofy hammered grin seems like one that would precede an inebriated kiss, but he just continues to grin, and I exhaled emphatically. Tension is a-okay with me, but the dynamic changes FOREVER if they’re allowed to hook up.

My prior knowledge of the inner workings of network TV tell me that the likely scenario is that the climax of the season will be their epic first kiss. I am willing to become a devout Christian, maybe even resort to an ascetic, monk-like lifestyle for the next couple months just so that my prayers will be answered and I will be proven wrong. There’s no chemistry, it’s more beneficial to the them as people to stay friends, and if this episode showed me anything it’s that this has shaped into a neat ensemble show where Jess serves as the lynchpin and catalyst for behavior alterations. That’s the show I want, and the one that has worked. Also my boy Schmitty doesn’t deserve third wheel status.

Once the sun rises on the California beach, the hungover crew rolls off in Winston’s bucket to the hospital for Nick’s ultrasound. Winston’s beat-up ride was a painfully undercut side story, and it showed how dynamic the show can be when at least three of the four roommates have their own matters to attend to, but for this episode I would have been fine with just the Nick plot. Winston’s junk heap of a truck was just a forced piece of symbolism to me conveying that Winston cannot let go of his old life. Soon there will be no remnants of it left, reflected in how the car breaks down in the conclusion, and Winston will have to be a whole new person. This topic has been addressed incessantly, and I’m starting to grow weary that they don’t have any other material for Winston. His redefinition can be a continuing thread, but we have seen NO other sides to Winston, save his affinity for the bells.

As everyone predicted Nick’s neck was not filled with cancer juice and there is much rejoicing and togetherness, especially when the other four pick up the tab, and only implore that he get an actually wallet. In the most uproarious bit of the night, Nick reveals that his wallet his a sandwich bag with his license and money inside. Nothing else made me cackle quite like that bit of character humor. Bravo.

Judging by the selection of Beach House’s “Take Care” at the end, “New Girl” was not being coy about going for cloying. Their intended for this episode were one that would tug a bit on the heartstrings and spend more time in silence then is customary for a comedy so predicated on the word by word construction of its rapid fire jokes. Whether it was shots of Nick looking out at the sun spilling onto the serene ocean water or Winston yanking his license plate off the car in another metaphorical effort to separate Winston from his old self, it was clear that in all directorial respects they were going for the jugular. But considering they sacrificed little humor, and accomplished their end without compromising character integrity (perhaps they even bolstered it in Nick’s case), I approve of this slight departure from “New Girl” status quo.

Though “Injured” has left me somewhat scarred, still worrying about whether the writers will give Lamorne Morris his well-deserved shot to showcase Winston. And the encroaching possibility of a Nick-Jess pairing that continues to terrorize and threaten. Still, its efforts to attain importance for intelligent comedy were noble. For allotting a half hour to explore the depths of a character’s anxieties without losing out on comedic opportunities—we still got Schmidt being Schmidt and that indelible memory of their liquor-fueled jam session—I will yield positive test results with a B.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “I can taste my spine.”

- “You’re walking like a Disney witch.”

- “Did you just Fredo-kiss me?”

- Nick’s excuses for not getting the ultrasound: He has to find a lost stamp, and he has to record the whales.

- “I always told him to treat his body like a temple, and he treats it like a dump!”

- Nick on his menstrual cramp pills: “I feel really warm in my uterus.”

- “Are you really using your friend’s illness to feel my boobs with your face?”

- “You don’t get to speak at my funeral.”

- Great visual gag: Jess trying to put the baby back into the uterus model at Sadie’s office

Leslie (Amy Poehler) and Ben (Adam Scott) looking panicked after losing the senior citizen vote.

Sitcom characters don’t usually hit a snag for more than 22 minutes. It’s common knowledge. In fact, I spoke of it just last week when I mentioned the tried-and-true formula for sitcom watchability. Other than a unvarying structure, sitcoms provide us with what life rarely grants us: a neat resolution.

Few individuals are privileged enough (or frankly spoiled enough) to come out of most snafus without dissatisfaction. Hence why we turn to stories. We live vicariously through proactive characters who take just enough risk to mess up big, but have enough support and fortitude to cleanly rectify their mistakes. I don’t believe these sorts of tales are more or less valid. Truthfully, I’ve been on a “Boy Meets World” kick of late because today’s family TV programs steer away from morality. People are afraid to come down firmly on how children should be raised, or how teens should be taught about sex, in favor of embracing diversity and avoiding offense. The 90s, were a different time.

My point is that now we live in a time where uncertainty is infectious. Over at The AV Club they posted an article just a few days before The Academy Awards discussing how all nine nominees for Best Picture, in one way or another, confronts our scary future. And if art is a reflection of the society that spawns it, then Leslie Knope’s futility versus Washington hotshot Jennifer Barkley (Kathryn Hahn) this week was not only poignant and funny, but a rough portrait of our current cultural anxieties.

Don’t worry though, the episode itself doesn’t come off nearly that self-aggrandizing. The main takeaway from “Campaign Shake-up” is that complacency can not be afforded. Despite a surge in the polls, with Leslie just 15 points behind Bobby Newport (distancing herself from Pawneean porn star Brandi Maxxxxxx), Newport’s monetary advantage looms large. His daddy hires Jennifer Barkley, a consummate pro who has eaten egg salad with the likes of Colin Powell, who seeks to snuff out their fiery hot streak.

After her initial play of attacking Leslie’s lovable childhood aspirations commercial (seen in “Campaign Ad”), her next maneuver is to steal “the gray vote” by securing the endorsement of Pawnee Seniors United president Ned Jones (played by TV legend Carl Reiner). LesBen had acquired his support with their “Ramp Up Pawnee” initiative, basically a plan to make Pawnee more handicap-accessible since “stairs are a young man’s game.” Jen one-ups their idea with her conception of “Raise Up Pawnee,” an installation of electric lifts next to every staircase. While of course Leslie’s plan is more practical and cost-effective, the seniors are easily impressed by the gadgetry and Ned Jones officially endorses Bobby Newport.

Over at City Hall, Chris expresses concern that the Parks Department is undermanned with Leslie reducing her hours. Considering she did the work of four men, this is a legitimate concern. As a result we are treated to Ron’s absurd, yet endearing in its staunchness, anti-government stance once again.  Fearful of adding another employee to the mix, Ron appoints Ann Perkins (pronouncing her name right and everything!) to spearhead a cross-department project between the Health and Parks departments to fix the water foundations. What’s wrong with the water fountains? Well, the quirky folks in Pawnee put their mouth on the spouts when they drink. The project’s aim is to redesign the fountains so that the disgusting habit is impossible.

With Andy as her test subject (and a perfect illustration of the average Pawnee resident), Ann leads a brainstorming session. Jerry suggests a cage over the nozzle, but Andy rips it off. Tom suggests replacing fountains with “water butlers” and is immediately rejected. On a side note, Tann (Tom and Ann) only gets a brief instance of relevance when Tom gloats that his idea will receive preferential treatment because him and Ann are “romantically intertwined.” I was glad to see that emphasis on their relationships was waned significantly, but it also didn’t address the issue of its legitimacy so the Catch-22 of inconsequence and importance continues for yet another week, much to my minor dismay.

April contributes to the brainstorm at first by provoking a water fight by spraying Ann, redirecting the fountain flow. Consequently, when Ron escorts Chris to the department to prove his progress on a major project, they witness the escalation from playful splashing to full-scale aquatic warfare. Andy caps their distraction by attacking Chris as a water balloon kamikaze (he has fashioned a vest of water balloons out of duct tape), easily the best bit of slapstick of the episode. Chris Pratt always nails that particular area of “Parks” comedic repertoire.

LesBen panics over losing Ned’s endorsement, realizing that Jennifer is simply better than they are. Every measure they take, she will have a countermeasure. Leslie, despite assuring Ben she has the utmost confidence in his strategies, decides to go directly to the source. When she meets up with Jen, she admits that she would rather Leslie win, but it’s her job to win, and she’s damn good at it. But because she “loves to play chess” and believes she is her own best opponent, Jen gives her a strategy, suggest a shuttle service for seniors. Leslie agrees it’s genius, but when she pitches it to Ben, he reasons that Jen is too in their heads, manipulating them. As much as I love Leslie, and want her to succeed and believe she would be the best thing for Pawnee, its fun to see her and Ben squirm. As much as a Leslie triumph has become this show’s staple, this show has become one of possibility. And by introducing this giant hurdle, not only does it provide a challenge that would payoff HUGELY if they could overcome it, but the writers make sure they’re challenged as well, solidifying them as the freshest in network comedy, by far.

The ending showdown between Leslie and Jen on Perd Hapley’s “Final Word with Perd” (oh excuse me, Perdrick L. Hapley) was brilliant. Jen combats Leslie’s jabs about Bobby gallivanting through Europe with floozies with such finesse, it was like watching MJ play with the flu in the NBA Finals. She counters that he was striking a deal with a European company to build a factory in Pawnee. It’s total BS. But it doesn’t matter. The sting of Leslie’s venomous rebuttal is gone from voters’ minds. While Perd is clueless as to what happened on his own show (contributing no probing questions for either side), Leslie sulks at the bar, wanting to drink away her shortcomings, aware that her drive and tireless work ethic may not be enough. This is a foreign feeling for her, and her storyline this week while filled with intermittent giggles, didn’t leave us with a warm and fuzzy feeling. But I have faith that it’s being stored away for a fourth quarter finish that will swell inside me to the point where I might burst.

Not all is lost, however. April continues her trend of rising to the top of the “Parks” achievement heap yet again with her simple yet elegant solution: remove the splashguard so no one can put their mouth on it. Chris’ worries that the group lacked cohesion and leadership are abandoned, and Ron asks April to take some of Leslie’s load. Though reluctant to do things, Ron taught her the art of inaction and delay, Ron woefully convinces April that her need to test her potential exceeds the need to stall government activity for him, therefore appointing her as Leslie’s fill-in for now.

I like that I’m clueless about where April’s arc is heading. Leslie seems destined for a come-from-behind victory where she makes a sacrifice of some sort (either involving Ben or the Parks department) to win the election, but April’s continued evolution is a mystery. She has begun to care for others’ happiness, and is even putting her brain to productive use. To what end? I’m not saying the character herself is conscious of where she is headed, but the show seems intent on providing her with responsibility, and showcasing her redeeming qualities. I sure hope she isn’t leaving the show for greener pastures. Not only does Andy not deserve that kind of pain, but neither do I!

While Paul Rudd was off promoting his movie, Kathryn Hahn was an awesome addition this week. She’s frank in her deviousness, and you have to admire her thorough, near impenetrable research. It’s reminiscent of Leslie’s superwoman qualities, while not being a re-tread, but a worthy foil. The LesBen dynamic was delightfully rendered this week, particularly when Leslie would compliment Ben for his attractiveness, but perhaps overemphasized his small stature to the point where Ben became insecure. It’s relatable, while still totally unique to these two people, a sweet balance to accomplish. Ron earns my MVP though for his stubborn reactions to change and his depiction of impossible choices through an anecdote about his sixth birthday (check out L.O.L.Ls).

With one episode remaining before a month-long break, “Campaign Shake-up” returned to the main thrust of the season with a stylish blend of gravity and levity. We watch the Parks department grow sillier and yet fuller in Leslie’s absence, and Leslie’s campaign encounters its first insurmountable foe, reminding us why we want Leslie to win. Because she is going to deserve it. So while we, the commoners, might not get our way though we may have earned it, Leslie will. But it won’t be as easy as twenty-two minutes of coincidence and contrivance. The conclusion will be the hard-fought accumulation of prolific labors, like tonight: an infusion of expertly tailored moments with hilariously crafted dialogue. For the return of Ron Swanson, the man and the myth, for elevating April above her role of anarchic instigator, and ensuring that like Leslie, the “Parks” team will earn our vote, I’ll gleefully go to the polls to check off “A.”

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- Perd Hapley’s gems: “The first issue…is the one we’re gonna talk about.” “Now it’s time for our next segment…which is a commercial.” Also, his fascination with the concept of “a foot in a mouth” as an actual act, not as an expression.

- “You’re a brilliant, sexy, little hummingbird.” (hums suggestively)

- “Not enough ramps is the number three complaint by Pawnee seniors. Right behind, “everything hurts” and “I’m dying.”

- “Either we complete a government project, which is abhorrent to me, or we bring a new person into the department, which repulses me to my core. Reminds me of when my dad made me choose which one of my pet calves to slaughter with my own hands for my sixth birthday. I couldn’t choose, so I slaughtered both of them. And they were delicious.”

- “As a candidate I appreciate your strategic mind, but as a woman sly I care about is your slight, but powerful body.”

- Ann: “That’s the first time you’ve said my entire name correctly.” Ron: “Nonsense, we are close friends.”

- Leslie: “You’re a mangenius, with a taut, narrow frame like a sexy elf king.” Ben: Do you wish I were taller? What’s going on here?”

-”I think Ben’s already filling the Leslie void.” (high five)

Ben (Adam Scott) informs Leslie (Amy Poehler) that she "slept with" Jerry (Jim O'Heir) all night.

Subtlety can often be pretentious, but there is a reason why minutia matters.

As a writing student, I know much of the whining in workshops is oriented around how “obvious” the story is. Well, also “how well we know the main character,” but the people of Pawnee have been fleshed out for a while. “Obvious” can mean predictable, manipulative, or even bland, but it’s the perception of an overt effort to “make a point” that’s the faux pas in literary circles. The consensus is that one must write with a question in mind, not an answer.

But as CBS (and the other networks, but CBS serves as the exemplar) has suggested for decades, people like routine. Sitcoms and procedural dramas are characterized by their formulaic structure and cathartic endings. When you sit down in front of the tube on any given weeknight you’re sure that you will walk away satisfied because you found out who the killer was, or because the children learned their lesson. In literature, this is lazy; it’s understood that each story should be evaluated as an opportunity to cut a fresh slice out of life. Now, I can’t be sure that if I sneakily submitted a “Parks and Rec” script as my next draft folks would fully embrace it, but I believe the show does embrace the core of why subtlety is championed. When a message is explicitly conveyed it doesn’t allow for a range of interactions with the “text.” Nuance and finesse, however, can allow for a spectrum of reactions.

This is wherein comedy can achieve excellence. Laughs, although discriminatory, are easy. They are reflexes, engrained in us unconsciously, and often we immediately regret or find shame in what we laugh at. But when one is reduced to a coughing fit, or any other ostentatious displays like knee-slapping, clapping, snorting, that’s a genuine expression of connectivity to the art. That’s not something you can churn out every week through some kind of chuckles equation. It takes care and dedication, and when I notice the “Parks” writers employing such details with confidence, you know you’ve been struck by a story thats worth telling, and yet shows merit simply in how it’s told.

That said, Sweet Sixteen wasn’t the strongest or the most memorable episode, but it’s one of many exceptionally executed chapters in a masterpiece work. As mentioned up top, the minutia mattered this week. Like when Andy answered that 64 divided by four is 64 while everyone else blurted out 16. Or when Ron asked Donna if this was all the eggs she had, and when she asked what he was making he replied, “Eggs.” Or how about a classic “What the f**k” delivered by Andy when Chris popped up to give him more tips in canine care. The list goes on, and not even the L.O.L.Ls section could adequately house the prolific amount of details that all served comedic purpose.

The plot tonight, much like that of Operation Ann, is highly unoriginal and so recycled it’s eco-friendly. Leslie is frazzled, but it’s never just that. She’s a catalyst for situations that bring out the eccentricities of them all. This time she’s overworking herself clocking 50 hours at the Parks Department, 50 for her campaign and still finding time to volunteer for Wheels for Meals on Wheels (they repair vans for Meals on Wheels). Ron insists she take a sabbatical, but her tireless work ethic is at odds with her biological need to slow down. As a result, she has become uncharacteristically negligent. Her most recent slip-up being that she forgot Jerry’s birthday. Another stellar detail: Jerry’s birthday is February 29. How perfect? The most undervalued worker gets a celebration only ever four years, brilliant. As her atonement, Leslie resolves to throw him a surprise “Sweet Sixteen” party at Donna’s lake house. But in her rush to make amends, she forgets to invite Jerry, only serving to stroke Ron’s ego as he anticipates her downfall.

After Tom bought himself some time to woo her last week, Ann briefly becomes the object of Tom’s disdain. She violates number three of his “Oh No Nos” list, a lack of appreciation for 90s R&B, when she is unfamiliar with Donna’s cousin and recording artist, Ginuwine (I remember him in the 2000s as the crooner who released the single, “In Those Jeans,” an ode to curvy women who leave little to the imagination when they squeeze into tight denim). Tom then worries that she may be utterly repulsive to him aside from her stunning beauty. Through relentless questioning he uncovers disturbing disagreements between them, forcing Ann to rattle of her own list (from which I will draw upon some L.O.L.Ls below). Caught in the middle is April, who “inadvertently” set them up two episodes ago. Due to that kindness, she’s now forced to endure their incessant complaints. To dull her agony she drowns herself in champagne, adding Aubrey Plaza to the list of “Parks” actors with an aptitude for acting drunk.

Everyone’s favorite thrice-appendaged doggy Champion is the subject of the last subplot. Chris, still reeling from Millicent, is desperate for companionship. And when Andy asks him to watch Champion for a night they bond instantly. As expected, the microchip expertise that knows no bounds extends to dog training, and using German commands has made Champion into a…well…do I have to say it? Andy’s first response is jealousy. His German gibberish when attempting to make Champion perform for him too is hilarious. After losing Champion while trying to prove he didn’t need a leash, he earnestly relays his insecurities to Chris, who assures him that the love he provides is perfectly adequate. Chris then suggests he sing to corral the dog, and when Champion returns shows the camera the dog whistle he uses to actually coax him out. It’s a tender act that further defines Chris. Before he was just a comical exaggeration of self-determination and optimism, but amidst his misery, he has shone truthfully as a beacon of selflessness and friendship these past few weeks.

The three payoffs were unified in the superb exhibitions of ” their best selves” by those who served as crutches for their normally self-sufficient friends. Ron Swanson, for instance, offered his pearl of wisdom: “Never half-ass two things, whole-ass one thing.” Not exactly eloquent, but it’s a honest appeal to Leslie that if she really wants to be a councilwoman she needs to make sacrifices, reductions to her workload. They shake on an agreement to ten hours at P&R, and the rest of her time will be allotted to the pursuit of her dream, becoming an elected official.

Tom and Ann transforms into Tann, then Haverkins (Haverford + Perkinds), when April’s drunken admission that they were fighting over pointless topics jolted them both, making them realize that they were fishing for something wrong when they should have just be enjoying each other’s company. It was pleasant as always to see April, however reluctantly, help out the people she cares for and hates in the same breath. She’s a conundrum, but one you wish was by your side and in your life.

Andy also brings joy to another by encouraging a relationship, giving Chris permission to hang with Champion whenever he likes. The brief moment where April touches Andy’s hand, again using an extremely minor maneuver, sealed the deal. There is not only love between them, but more than tenuous bonds between all of the Parks Department team. Like with Tom and Ann, it might be easier to point out the flaws. Like with Ron and Leslie it may take time for a proper mentor/mentee dynamic to flourish; and like with Andy and Chris it may involve opening yourself up when you’d rather give off your more invulnerable self. But when Leslie, “Tann,” and Chris needed that Al-Green-esque shoulder when they weren’t strong, they answered the call.

Projecting a bit, I’m still worried about “The Haverkins situation,” but it’s an enigmatic kind of worry: my concern is that it’s harmless. Leslie’s campaign is a palpable source of tension and a well of comedic scenarios. Haverkins comes off as a fling would, inconsequential. But “Parks” doesn’t operate with the safety valve of a reset button, and everything that occurs before affects our characters going forward. While Tom and Ann’s prospects of finding love don’t have the potential to shake up the series like Leslie’s election could, it might disturb the balance of absurdity and realism that the show has so rightly earned. The episode itself was innocuous too in many ways, a detour from more pressing affairs, but due to the ways it showcased the better attributes of favorites like Ron and Andy, it’s nearly impossible to diminish my level of enjoyment. For an escape to the lake house filled with equal parts bonding and shenanigans, and prioritizing the minuscule so that it might balloon in the eyes of each viewer, I raise a glass to Jerry’s 64th birthday and to a B+ episode of the most gratifying show on television. Cheers!

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “Let’s start a pool. Who wants retired and who wants dead?”

- Ron on Leslie’s belief that he will later “eat crow”: “Leslie’s the best and I’m stupid.” “That does sound like me…”

- Oh No Nos or Things about Ann that bother Tom: accepts <600 thread count sheets, has never seen a Paul Walker movie, doesn’t care about Blu-Ray, read books all the time, still has an iPad first generation and “he owns more Uggs than she does!”

- Oh No Nos or Things about Tom that irritate Ann: Talks through terrible movies he makes her watch, has 20” rims on his Volkswagen Golf and insist on being introduced as “the Brown Gosling.”

- “I was getting kind if sick of Tom and Ann talking about their relationship, but then remembered alcohol existed. (Takes swig) Thank you alcohol!”

- Ben’s half asleep, bed-haired and half-hearted “Surprise!” when Leslie walks in with Jerry in the middle of the night.

- Ron’s toast to Jerry: “Jerry’s work is often adequate.”

- Not a line, but a visual gag: Leslie’s campaign sign with a URL on it instead of the actual image

Jess (Zooey Deschanel) and Winston (Lamorne Morris) are disturbed by Nick's (Jake Johnson) behavior.

“I wish there was a word that meant complete satisfaction and complete self-loathing.”

When Cece spoke those words she was lamenting and rejoicing in her affinity for Schmidt’s sex game, but they oddly summed up my regard for this show. If this episode cemented anything it was this paradox: the coexistence of irredeemability and charm within each roommate. Since inspiration seems to be at a premium tonight, but “New Girl” warrants a impassioned assessment, lets spice things up like Schmidt and Cece in the bedroom..or car…or Starbucks bathroom. I’m gonna examine each character and why it is that all of them simultaneously perplex and delight me. I’ll even give Cece a whirl (who wouldn’t—goddamn she’s infuriating how gorgeous she is).

When Fox was promoting this assumed Zooey Deschanel vehicle, we thought we were getting a quirky single girl shaking up the lives of three normal shrubs. What we got instead was a quirk-tet, a foursome of freak. A peculiar-palooza.

JESS: In recent weeks, Jess’ worldview has been challenged. Julia, Nick’s girlfriend (at the time) was the scrambled to her sunny side up, countering her compulsive singing and vibrant pattern dresses with sardonic jibes and earthy tone pantsuits. For the first time, Jess began to reevaluate her “thing,” and the merits of being pretty, cheerful and innocent in a cutthroat world. As I documented then, I was proud she stuck to her guns and livened an albeit lighthearted discussion of what constitutes femininity in the age of fluid gender. But for her as an individual it meant a regaining of self-awareness and pride. This week she regressed a bit, reacting with contempt for a student, Brianna, who made a mockery of her musical problem solving with a YouTube animation of her impromptu concert. While “Sad Sparrow (Imagine A World Without Bullies)” wasn’t a lyrical treasure, it wasn’t horrendous and her intentions of empowering Nathaniel, a husky boy who’d been the victims of a coin-related harassment, were noble. But Brianna when confronted continued to dish out harsh observations of what she perceived was Jess’ “mask of happiness.”

Not one of us would react well if someone reminded us of our struggles in companionship, but Jess impulsively rips apart Brianna’s robot arm for the science fair. My objection to her behavior does not lie in the rashness, but in her insecurity. Jess struck me at this point as someone who would relish the attention of the internet parody (I mean being transformed into a bird that poops all over a guitar is badass) and be flattered. After all, if she’s already learned that she is proud of herself as a woman, why would a child’s reminder of a couple failed relationships send her over the edge? At least when the robot arm malfunctioned she owned up to her sabotage immediately. If she hadn’t, I would have been downright angry that the writers decided to portray her as so naive and inept again. She isn’t an incompetent teacher, she just has a rosy-cheeked style that some elementary girls might find off-putting or superficial. Certainly a self-assured Jess would translate into less shenanigans, but her road to individual discovery is less refreshing when you’ve trekked it before.

NICK: With the addition of Julia, we’ve been able to glean that Nick is, at times, crippled by his insecurity. He tries way too hard to be impressive and comes off obsessive instead. I was terrified for him when the cactus immediately signified disaster for him. I’m a critic. I analyze, for fun, and I found that disturbing. Yes, women are nuanced beings and more is being said by what is unsaid usually, but when you are ascribing meaning to a plant you’re asking for trouble. Even if unconsciously the gesture was an indictment of his character, you keep that observation to yourself. I’m no lothario by any stretch, but I do know that if you push a woman into a choice she wasn’t ready to make she will likely choose the path of least resistance, which means leaving you behind.

I’ve had my share of seven voicemail panic attacks where I felt like choosing the wrong words would mean selecting the coffin I’d be buried in, and watching that desperation unfold was both humorous and horrifying all at once. If any character kept steamrolling along this week, in terms of an expanded definition of who he is when cornered, it was Nick. His descent from denial to emotional collapse was like a train wreck made of gold. It was violent and unsightly, but it shone radiantly as an example of the hilarity that can be our own misfortune.

WINSTON: A consistent gripe of mine has been a discrepancy in airtime for Winston who has shown promise when given the chance, often opposite a new or minor character.  This week, he’s relegated to peanut gallery status, but he delivered some of the funniest, though I’ll admit incredibly random, lines of the night. Like when Schmidt refuses to reveal who his new lover is (she’s an anomaly in that he has slept with her on consecutive nights), Winston remarks how the fun to be had when Schmidt has girls over. In particular, he likes to pretend he’s his spurned, down-low lover, Theodore K. Mullins. Despite not being an active participant in any of the three plots (aside from attempting to fix Brianna’s robot arm with his “good scissors”) he takes the script’s handoff and runs with it. Other instances include him buying into Schmidt’s crescent moon diversion, his bully flashback complete with catchphrase (Brown Lightning!) and his misguided effort to tell off Brianna’s moms by insinuating that their daughter is a demon child (exact quotes will reside below in LOLLs). Surely, Lamorne Morris deserves a more demanding role, one where Winston, like Nick must face some ugly personal demons, but if you’re gonna be a benchwarmer he’s making the most of his playing time.

SCHMIDT (and a little something for Cece) : My devotion to this man was expressed early and often, but love means wanting the best for those you care about. So with a heavy heart, I must criticize the handling of my favorite douchebag. Truthfully, it’s because he was so unnaturally douchey that I objected to some of his material. The honest-to-goodness laughs stemmed from Schmidt’s responses to Cece feeling “100% ashamed” of him, and how he reconciled snatching such a babe with her reluctance to be seen in public together. Max Greenfield impersonating a dog left in a car with it paws hanging over the cracked window: genius.

However, I was dumbfounded and even irritated by the absurd amount of cheese metaphors. I suppose it was funny for Cece to be turned on by his allusions to “sharp cheddar” and what not, but Schmidt was at his Emmy-best when he was a mixture of neurotic and attention-seeking. The douchebag never left, but he would take a respite frequently so that the hygiene freak or the culture snob could come out to play. The simplistic portrayal was disappointing, but I was encouraged by the potential of his and Cece’s sexcapades. Though, Schmidt bragging about her at breakfast was too much and seemed like a complete concession for Cece who had just voiced concerns of being viewed as a prize. Granted, Schmidt slipped into some tenderness, admiring her smarts and ballsiness besides her boobs and dope body. But that’s Schmidt, ladies and gentlemen. He is not smooth, nor someone you want to show off, but he’ll charm the pants off you anyway.

We also mourn the end of Julia (the dork-adored Lizzy Caplan), who broke up with Nick and thus exited the “New Girl” universe. The character’s misgivings about the relationship were illuminated by his ramblings on the cactus over several painful voice messages. Though it was an abrupt end to her run, which was fruitful, especially when you factor in “Jess and Julia,” I sensed her role in Nick’s life had been fulfilled. In that vein, credit goes to the producers for commitment to story and not to ratings, contracts and all that hubbub. After such a magnificent string of episodes, I was underwhelmed by tonight’s fare (hence the experimentation in formatting), mostly due to some noticeable stagnation on the part of Jess and Schmidt. It’s unfair to expect growth every week, but “Bully” was a contrivance designed to tread familiar and comedically safe territory. However, for an unabashed glimpse into Nick’s sorrow and no shortage of quotables from Winston (a.k.a Theodore), or even my Schmitty, I’ll let a dip into a less refreshing pool slide. The love in the air from last week evaporates by almost a full letter grade,  B.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines: 

- “Did you feel me sweeping you down the current of my body? You were like a canoe on my river-body.”

- Winston as Theodore K. Mullins: “Damn it Schmidt! In our bed? Where we shave each other? I’ve loved you. I always have.”

- “I’m like a sexual snowflake. Each night with me is a unique experience.”

- “Leave me in the desert I’d grown some needles. You bet I would.”

- The next three begin Nick’s symptoms of denial:

“Julia dumped me. Sad face. You wanna go to the beach with me? Because I’m ready to rock, but I real don’t wanna be alone.”

“You know, the news only focuses on what goes wrong. It never talks about what goes right! Hello? Evolution?”

“You guys wan watch ‘The Piano’ later?”

- “She is the spawn of Satan! And I do believe I speak for the entire human race when I say, people like her should not be building robots.”

Louis C.K reprises his role as Leslie's cop ex-boyfriend Dave Sanderson (right).

Back in season two, “Parks and Recreation” was a rising star, not a comedy powerhouse. The first season elicited lukewarm feelings from viewers, and season two began to build an elaborate world where three-dimensional, imperfect yet endearing people existed. It felt like small-town America because it was hilariously inept in so many ways, but the people were just darling. When Louis C.K hitched his wagon to this runaway train to fandom he had not yet aired his avant-garde take on single fatherhood and the pathetic nature of life alone at 40, “Louie.” He was but a mildly chubby, balding red head with a penchant for speaking mechanically.

Now, after the critical community has kissed his ass en masse (myself included) for his daring perspective and auteur-iffic ambition on FX’s “Louie,” a zany yet grounded show based on his real life as a middle-aged, recently divorced standup comic; and Parks and Recreation has solidified itself as the sitcom of the moment (for those who find Modern Family’s novelty has totally worn off and doesn’t see what all these award shows do). This sort of episode contains the transformative quality of an event. We view C.K not as a guest star, but as a genius gracing us with his presence.

Both the writers, and Louie himself, exceeded expectations this week. They allotted him the parameters wherein he could run amuck; and Louie, although a gigantic scene-chomper for those who know his catalogue, blends in with Amy Poehler and Adam Scott to render the most magnificent portrait of cringe-worthy awkwardness one could fathom. And the horrifying yet hilarious part is it could happen to you. Well, if your friend was either a desperate, emotionally stunted cop or a victim of policophobia (perhaps your friend is both and is a walking paradox).

LesBen meets with Pawnee Police Chief Trumple who is retiring, so Leslie can publicize his endorsement before his replacement is sworn in. P&R blows my mind again with its affinity for continuity. Recalling Ben’s fear of policemen from early in season three, where in his nervousness he pontificates on the culinary enigma of the calzone and is thereby dubbed “Calzone Boy.” Here it’s much more transparent, wearing his intimidation on his sleeve. Leslie asks for the chief’s blessing and he invites her to attend his retirement party where he’ll make his decision. In his gratitude, Ben signs off with the caveat that cops are such heroes, “Some more than others….Oh god here it comes—” Just as he regurgitates the words “9/11,” Leslie stops him. Ben so often serves as the voice of reason and straight man of the relationship, it was refreshing to see him play looney, insecure and scattered. In the police department hallway Leslie catches the eye of Dave Sanderson (Louis C.K) who has returned from Pawnee to attend the chief’s party. Leslie blurts out that he should come to dinner with her and Ben to catch up. Immediately regretting the decision, Ben voices his acceptance, wanting to give Leslie what she needs, as always.

Tom, riding high from his date with Ann, refuses to be discreet, or in anyway downplay the situation. Ann flat out voices her embarrassment and is disgusted by his pet names (some of which include: Cookie Tush, Winnie the Boo and Annie Get Your Boo). In direct opposition to her wish that he keep their date a secret, the whole department is notified. Andy is tasked with recording Leslie’s campaign theme song, and his artistic vision (something like “We are the World,” but with more social impact) requires the rest of the group to sing backup. Double Time Studios, where they will record their track, is the same facility where Duke Silver, Ron Swanson’s jazz saxophonist persona, records. Due to his relatively legendary work, memorabilia hangs all over the premises.

As we know, Ron is a private man, who wishes to withhold any information about himself that is unnecessary to divulge. What he does with his social life is not for his employees to know. April, however, knows about him because her parents are huge fans. He assigns her with the task of covering up or destroying any Duke paraphernalia, or distracting anyone from seeing his picture. This obviously lends itself to some side-splitting physical comedy. My favorite of which is when Andy drinks a mug full of honey (he finds the tea part gross) with Duke’s, er, mug embossed on it. Panicked, April throws the mug onto the floor claiming she was channeling her rock and roll spirit. Andy gets the rare opportunity in this episode to be in his element. However, he is still dim-witted and naive Andy, so his ability to reign in and articulate his artistic vision culminates in his frustration, banging his head on the floor with the hope inspiration will come.

Dinner is deliciously awkward at the onset; they start by subtly competing with flattering remarks when the subject of her campaign comes up. Dave assures that he can procure the chief’s endorsement, and Ben uses the restroom. During that brief interlude, Dave alerts Leslie that he is still in love with her and would like a moment alone to win her over. Of course, LesBen are totally perfect for each other, so Leslie dances around his request all night. He sneakily excuses himself for some air, but Leslie won’t bite. When he leaves the table, Leslie informs Ben of the situation. Dave comes back and in his honorable and gentlemanly way, he asks Ben directly to speak with his girlfriend. The resulting exchange between the three of them had me red in the face with laughter as they try to determine who will talk with whom and in what order, each trying to assert their own selfish motivations. In some way or another, we have all been in this scenario where egos lock horns and none of the parties are willing to back down and sacrifice their emotional needs. Thankfully, the personalities on this show make the proceedings more humorous than contentious, and the underlying tension never escalates beyond an ants-in-your-pants tickle. It helps that when Dave and Ben finally do confront one another it culminates goofily with Dave handcuffing Ben to a urinal. You can’t get anxious or mad when literal bathroom humor is employed.

Unrelenting and immune to Ann’s refusals, Tom beats the dead horse and professes his desire for Ann in front of all their present friends. He also consults his “playbook,” a romantic stratagem consisting of cliches from movies. His idea to wait for her in the rain backfires, giving him the sniffles while he becomes soaked, thinking Ann would be in awe of his romantic gesture. When Tom finally levels with her, claiming he has no more gimmicks, he brings out his secret weapon: an improvised song filled with melodic apologies and a plea that she appease him with a second date. In the end, his persistence at the very least wears her down to earn him another opportunity to win her over more genuinely. Chances are he will sabotage himself again, but by entertaining the possibility they have a shot they infuse some conflict without creating uncharacteristic drama that would sacrifice the tone of the show. Ron channels the Duke for Andy, laying down a killer sax solo while he sent him off to clear his head, mixing in more of his vocals too, realizing the full potential of  ”Catch Your Dream.” April’s diligence (including hitting Jerry over the head with a cymbal when he remarks how alike Duke appearance’s is to Ron’s) also ensured that no one else determined his secret identity. I felt it was odd that they didn’t mention Tom was actually the first person from the department to discover his alter ego back in season two, but since Haverford was so preoccupied with his “boo,” I’ll allow it.

Ben calls Leslie’s cell to inform her of his lavatory imprisonment and she chastises David mildly for acting so crazed. At the retirement party, Ben secures Leslie’s endorsement by outlining her long-term plan to sustain higher pensions and benefits (in comparison, Bobby Newport would just give them short-term monetary fixes). Of course, he reverts to his phobia on a couple occasions (using contrived phrasings or letting every officer to cut ahead of him in line for the restroom), but it weaves in nicely with his typical “in the zone” moments where he is talking numbers and his social anxieties are discarded. Dave later apologizes, explaining his behavior with the sweet revelation that “she makes him crazy.” He acknowledges that as long as she is safe and happy that is all that matters. He can’t resist insulting Ben, calling him “shrimpy,” but through his over-calculated word choice, sincerity surfaces.

Oddly, Chris gets little to do here. His face conveyed he was sad when he confirmed with Tom that Ann and he had been on a date. He is fragile after breaking up with Millicent, but does he still have legimate feelings for Ann, or is he just in regret mode about all his past relationships? His one laugh worthy moment comes when Andy asks him to sing for him and he butchers “Take Me Out To The Ballgame.” The microchip could not sing his way out of a paper bag and his paraphrasing of the song’s gist would make many fans of American’s pastime cry sacrilege. If not for the added dimension of Ron’s secrecy around Duke Silver, the Andy plot would have been stale for me. As mentioned, I like allowing Andy the chance to prove his competencies, but since a campaign song feels so trivial I wasn’t actively rooting for him to come through.

And in a way, Ron’s help, though a demonstration of his affection for Andy (which he continually downplays), invalidates Andy’s efforts, taking away his spotlight. Obviously, I’m a devoted Ron F. Swanson fan, but the inconsequential nature of that story is hard to ignore. It was a nice visit from the “mature woman swooner” still, so I dug it nonetheless. Emphasizing Tom could also have proven problematic for the episode’s likability since the essence of the character is his bordering the line of insufferable tool and fun to be around, but the wrap-up where his urgency finally strikes a chord with Ann, hit the exact note they intended and made an absurd, potentially superfluous pairing seem plausible, if not for just a moment so that the doubt can seep into our minds and hook us.

Louis C.K largely negated this unimportance in the best way possible. As mentioned, his execution of this character deserves considerable props. He plays up the normal droll of his speech so that he comes off evermore blue collar and well-intentioned. His diction is deliberate (though often grammatically unsound, likely from trying too hard), but his hesitation to say exactly how he feels, for me, resonated more than any poetic delivery could have, and added to the believability that Leslie cared for him once, and why his approval of Ben would mean something. Though by the ridiculously high standards “Parks” has earned and then some, this was not an exemplary episode, the return of Louis C.K transcended its relegation as a standalone novelty, and became a pivotal moment for the series. It was a perfect storm of nostalgia and relevance that justified bringing Dave back, and validated the cult legend’s presence beyond just his demand as a insanely respected performer and artist of the moment. For reaffirming Leslie’s commitment to Ben and the campaign, revisiting the show’s roots with Louis’ Dave and the groovy tunes of Duke Silver, I can commend the approach overall, disregarding the less engaging material. I will happily endorse “Parks” as a candidate for the most charming depiction of human irrationality and the goodness it can provoke. The state of this union is an A-.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “I’m not afraid of cops. I have no reason to be. I never break any laws…because I’m deathly afraid of cops.”

- “Leslie is a female person…with whom I was involved. We had a ‘romantical’ involvement.”

- “God, that was hot nonsense.”

- “He’s a gorgeous genius, people. Don’t questions his methods.”

- “You look like I could use some company.”

- “I don’t wanna brag, but I have a ton of experience with women being mad at me.”

- “I never thought I would say this about you, son, but you may be over-thinking this.”

- “I still have feelings for Leslie, in a womanly fashion, and I believe she feels the same for me, in a manly way.”

- Ben speaking to two officers who have conflicting interests about whether he should drink or not (he shouldn’t drive intoxicated, but it’s a celebration): “Please, just tell me what to do!”

- “The four sweetest words in the English language: ‘You wore me down.’”

Jess seduces Oliver (True Blood's Ryan Kwanten) into an out-of-character one night stand on Valentine's Day.

The collective anxiety of my fellow twentysomethings in anticipation of this Valentine’s Day was downright disturbing. More than any other year I can recall, the rebels and the traditionalists fled to Facebook and Twitter to voice their grievances. Either those in relationships devalued those who were single, by overemphasizing their good fortune, or single folk devalued the holiday so that those with valentines would feel as though their festivities were trivial. I’d imagine February 14 and the surroundings days are the therapists’ busy season (aside from the winter holidays) because it’s sickening how much weight is put on the perceived stability of our love lives. The message is: no one bought you chocolates or flowers on this designated holiday, well then you are less worthy of personhood! You actually celebrate this inane occasion? Then you’re unworthy for playing into romantic notions that only exist to increase profits for the floral and greeting card industries!

In any case, the discourse surrounding Valentine’s Day had been largely antagonistic. Tonight’s “New Girl” tackled the overriding sentiment that romance, however fleeting, is required on this arbitrary day. Each of our pals deal with it in strange yet characteristic ways that ensured authentic laughs by marrying the insecurity of the holiday with the neurotic and ego-driven tendencies of the roommates. Jess’ game plan for avoiding sorrow and reflection is to “look for some strange” a.k.a willing participants in a one night stand. Schmidt steps up as her coach and prospective wingman in avoiding attachment. Despite Nick’s general apathy for the holiday, he and Julia (Lizzy Caplan, again) set out to embrace the holiday that has scorned them with a typical night out. Winston, agrees to a night-in with Shelby since he’s walking on eggshells repairing the damage his former arrogant baller self caused.

Jess’ pursuit of a hit-it-and-quit-it ended up a stroke of genius that forced Zooey Deschanel and the writers to explore how she adapts to the quirks of others. True Blood’s heartthrob, Ryan Kwanten, plays Oliver, a man so dumb and dull that his most common conversation piece is tacos. Jess tells Schmidt she’s hit the jackpot, because zero bond is established between them aside from physical attraction. But a Lemony Snicket-ish series of unfortunate events unfolds, foiling Jess’ efforts to satisfy her “dirty twirlies” (a Jess-ence phrase meaning she is horny).

The convoluted scenario starts to take shape when Jess requests Schmidt drive Oliver and her to his place (neither of them drove to the bar). Initially reticent, Schmidt obliges. At Oliver’s place, Schmidt gets sucked into watching a movie, but eventually extricates himself, only to find his tires have been stolen by “youths.” Cece (of course Jess’ supermodel friend) calls him, frustrated with her boy toy, Kyle, who’s tripping balls off a slice of pizza topped with shrooms. Schmidt then asks Cece for a ride, so she swings by. In a somewhat shocking turn, Oliver’s ex (and roommate) appears, fuming over his makeup session with Jess. Vulnerable and seeking revenge she kisses a shirtless Kyle shortly after he, Cece and Schmidt arrive much to Jess’ chagrin. When Cece tries to separate her man from this unstable woman a catfight ensues. Thus, Schmidt and Cece and out-of-this-world high Kyle leave for the loft. I’m sure reading that was as exhausting as it was to watch. There is comedic payoff sprinkled throughout, but it struck me a bit like a scenic route to arrive at the twists to come…

Nick shows up at Julia’s office to pick her up for dinner reservations, but she’s deeply entrenched in her work. Despite his disappointment we get to enjoy the company of Julia’s intern, Cliff (Clark Duke). Duke fits seamlessly into this cast, delivering many awkward gems as he acts on his wildly apparent attraction to his boss. Another rewarding side effect of Nick’s waiting is the reveal of his life immediately post-law school. Needless to say, it’s L.O.L.L-worthy, involving dressing in drag, so, win. Unfortunately for Nick his story’s personal epiphany that he didn’t want to work for someone else his whole life encourages Cliff to quit, inciting Julia’s half-hearted attempt to win him back: “Cliff, no! We’re gonna start paying you so soon.” This stunt sends Nick to the doghouse, but he earns his way back into her good graces by incorrectly organizing her papers and their mutual appreciation for each other comes to the forefront. It’s a big step for them, realizing that this inconsequential celebration meant something to him. Julia also channels Jess by donning assorted Valentine’s headgear, recalling her reluctance from “Jess and Julia” where her discomfort with cuteness was a major point of contention.

Winston also gets his not-according-to-plan evening when he is surprised with a girls’ night at Shelby’s apartment. Realizing that his tolerance of the evening could pay dividends as he tries to prove his mettle as a suitor, he endures even offering her friends decent, albeit silly, advice: “Seriously, Tia, you do not wanna be with a man who has fancier underpants than you.” A universal truth I’d say. At any rate, Shelby apologizes for the night not meeting his expectations, but she confesses it to be a test, a slightly spiteful one too. She reminds Winston of his dick-ish actions on Valentine’s Day 2008 where he stood her up. Ashamed, Winston wonders whether or not he deserves a second chance, but Shelby affirms him saying that here he is getting one anyway. The door then literally closes on her resentment and implications of naughtiness ensue.

The wrap-up to the Jess/Schmidt fiasco is messy, yet satisfying. Jess leaves early when Oliver starts to cry over his ex who watches them makeout while munching on his beloved tacos. Jess helps them reconcile (I mean, duh), Skypes with his grandma in Hawaii briefly (okay…) then returns home. Schmidt subsequently instills some pearls of hookup master wisdom, saying Jess doesn’t want a stranger she wants someone she knows who won’t make it weird, who she can leave in the morning without being sucked into the horrors of a post-coitus brunch. Jess connects the dots, realizing Schmidt would be the ideal candidate according to that criteria. I thought Schmidt was too obviously manipulating her into sleeping with him and that Jess should not have been so swayed, but I suppose her “dirty twirlies” make her do crazy things. So she grabs her “hundy pack” of condoms (a hell of a sight gag), about to knock on Schmidt’s door when Nick starts her calling her out on her absurd behavior. She understandably retreats, but behind his bedroom door it’s revealed that it would have been a fruitless endeavor because SCHMIDT AND CECE ARE TOTES GONNA DO IT!!! I found it believable as Cece’s inexplicable attraction has been alluded to for some time now, and with Kyle off in outer space she was vulnerable and geared up for sex.

Overall, the conclusions to the respective romances felt earned and gratifying. If Jess had hooked up with the “True Blood” hunk, it would have felt too easy. Plus, I like that she was pushed to act out of character, but going through with the act would have been asking me to believe her Jess-ence wasn’t so firm. Also, what better way to depict her desperation for Valentine’s physicality then giving in to Schmidt. Cece made perfect sense, especially when you consider their mutual affection for the book, “The Phantom Tollbooth” (see L.O.L.Ls). Nick and Winston were beat for beat solid too. Both encounter obstacles that were deserved, and showed off their better qualities to weasel their way into their woman’s arms.

The successes didn’t entirely overshadow the mental claustrophobia though. I know as a holiday, the episode serves as a novelty, but I’d caution the series about “too many cooks.” Great guest stars also bolster this episode into comedic excellence as the night felt well-rounded in its joke material. The standout lines ranged from pop culture references to character oddities to more off-beat Nick back story to situational hilarity. I’d say “New Girl’s” efficiency was exemplary, utilizing V-day for story momentum and stylized laughs. For softening the blow of singles anxiety, that this wretched yet cutesy day inevitably conjures up, with an at times unsettling and frantic, yet strikingly effective rendering of what happens when we put our hearts on the line, “New Girl” becomes the benefactor of my holiday spirit. I’m spreading the love for this contender to the crown of best episode yet with a A-.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “I don’t go out on Valentine’s Day…it’s like a Dominican teenager playing Little League, it’s not fair for everybody else.”

- Cliff to Nick, on his hot boss and Nick’s girlfriend, Julia: “I would take that to Pound Town, make her visit the boneyard”

- “We’re actually gonna meet up later. He says he has a surprise for me.” “Spoiler: it’s his penis.”

- Schmidt’s desert island books: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell, Machiavelli’s The Prince, Freak by John Leguizamo, any script from season 1 of “Vampire Diaries” and The Phantom Tollbooth.

- “I’m here with two other girls drinking cranberry juice talking about Michelle Obama’s upper body workout.”

- “It’s a horrible neighborhood. There are youths everywhere.” Schmidt’s pronunciation of “youth” is priceless.

- Cece’s boyfriend tripping on a tire swing at the park: “I love brown people!” Cece’s curt response: “That’s racist, Kyle.”

- After dropping out of law school and getting heartbroken Nick reacted as such: played guitar in a ska band, gambled a lot, spent a weird week in a blonde wig demanding to be called Sandy Ferguson, and traveled to Mexico to enter into a cockfight…as a human

- Cliff on his plans now that he has quit his job as intern: “I’m gonna drive till I see the sun. And for once I’m gonna spend time with my birds. Boom.” Boom indeed, Cliff. Boom indeed.

Jess (Zooey Deschanel) and the gang try to dupe their strict, creepy landlord.

A hilarious “New Girl” is no longer equivalent to finding a diamond in the rough. Dare I say, it may be the most dependable new comedy. All the praises I’ve sung in recent weeks still apply. I’ve harmonized about its self-referential humor, or melodized over hitting its stride in respect to laugh-per-minute ratios, and I must preach again to the overworked choir. The writers have not fallen asleep at the wheel, continuing to pit that undeniable “Jess-ence” (trademarking it!) against every dysfunctional roommate and guest star with stellar returns.

This week, we confront the eternal struggle of People inherently suck vs. People are inherently good. Original sin vs. Redemption. The cold open presents this ideological standoff when Nick vies for the same parking space as another gentleman. Both quickly resort to hostile tactics to get what they want. When Nick beckons him to fight, his opposition pulls out a gun. Jess then talks the man down by conceding that Nick was being an idiot and that she was sorry about the altercation. The man then drove off and the powers of optimism prevailed. Unconvinced, Nick does not back down from his stance that people are jerks at their core.

When more appliances start to break down in the loft, Jess insists they ask the janitor to fix them. When the manly trio suggests they don’t because he is frightening, she takes it as a challenge. She enters his basement office armed with a plate of cupcakes. When she tries to appeal to his estranged side she lets it slip that there are four people living in an apartment designed for three. Apparently the gang had prepared for such an event and initiates an operation whereby they empty the contents of Schmidt’s room onto their balcony and he pretends to be a foreigner visiting LA. Landlord dude (played refreshingly off-putting by the hulky Jeff Kober) isn’t buying, but upon inspection he deemed the arrangement acceptable (only if Schmidt’s paints over a disturbing mural he describes as a sexually charged, zero gravity tea ceremony). Jess then attempts to coerce some maintenance work out of him and like putty in her hand he agrees. Nick immediately assumes the landlord, who we learn is named Remy (Jess astutely observes his tattoo that reads, “Hello, my name is Remy”) is only trying to get in her pants.

The standoff that follows is a clash between two stringent believers. In quick flashbacks, we are enlightened about where their divergent perspectives came from in humorously simplistic vignettes. Nick’s memory is of finding a fiver on the sidewalk and feeling elated. Instantaneously, a jogging man pushes him into the brush after snatching it away. Jess’ memory is of a sketchy, grimy man pulling up to her in a white van who asked, “Do you like candy, little girl?” Jess unflinchingly answered, “I sure do.”

Now, I’m sure those of you who are like Nick and I were weary of what would come next. But of course, subverting stereotype, the man replies, “Good, because my nana made way too much!”. The sliding door of the van opens and a wheelchair-ridden Nana hands her a plate of candy. Obviously the world is much more nuanced than the hyperbolic scenarios that played out in their childhoods, but the show, once again, credits its audience with a high degree of intelligence: we know these are intentionally stark representations are going for laughs. Still, it provides us with a bit of context with which to understand why they so strongly defend their outlooks. I’d be down for this brand of characterization in the future where we can laugh at these embellished personifications of their childhood while being enlightened about their motives.

After completing his handiwork, and opening up a little about how he and his ex-wife, “stopped humping,” Jess invites Remy to dinner as a token of gratitude. Winston and Schmidt seem unenthused, still with some lingering fear of the burly man, but Nick insists he’ll stay as watchdog, protecting Jess from the landlord’s libidinous intentions. As the dinner progresses, and Nick and Remy bond over their harsh breakups, Jess begins her victory lap. She suggests that Nick should not sell people short and make it a habit to “dip your toe in the pool of possibilities.” However, she may have spoke too soon; Remy misconstrues their honest evening conversations as a preface for a menage a trois. Unwilling to relinquish or surrender, a battle to outlast ensues where Jess refuses to admit defeat and she plays along with Remy’s fantasy. Like a trooper, she fakes delight in the prospect of an excruciatingly awkward (Nick endures Remy’s callusy caress for far too long as well) threesome, up until Remy requests that Nick kiss her. She then folds and the gang resigns to tolerate any shoddy workmanship thereon.

Schmidt’s B-story reenforces his role as the comedic tour de force of the show, while remaining only slightly detached from the show’s soul. This is acceptable as long as he’s not ancillary to the main thread entirely, which this episode accomplishes. At work, his boss Kim is giving him mixed signals. Winston draws from history, convinced that Schmidt is once again misinterpreting someone’s interaction with him as an appeal for sexual gratification. The micro-montage of such instances was quite amusing particularly his insistence that the delivery man was definitely suggestive when he informed Schmidt he had “a package” for him. The most ingenious turn of this plot, however, was how right he was. Kim’s alluring tone as she requests he “Clean out her hard drive” was overtly sensual, but due to his miscalculations of the past, he refrains. Cece (Jess’ model gal pal that he pines for) advises him to go for it, since asking permission would only be a turn off. Therefore, when Kim alludes to spending the night alone with a bottle of wine, Schmidt conjures up the wherewithal to pounce on her. Unfortunately, when the security catch him in the act they observe incorrectly that he is jumping her and pin him on the ground and cuff him. The coda of this storyline is wonderfully absurd as well.

When Schmidt states his genuine intentions to pursue her romantically she uses her same luscious voice to urge him to dial her in to the Tokyo conference call. Perceiving this as the green light, Schmidt strips down to his skivvies in anticipation, unknowingly putting on a show for a fleet of Japanese businessmen as he pratices his sexy poses.

The thematic cohesion paid great dividends as we learn the dangers of staunch belief systems. Sometimes people do have ill intentions while being mostly kind-hearted and sometimes those who are attracted to us can ask us for favors without an ulterior sexual motive. The sitcom realm is frequently black and white, and “New Girl’s” stabs at meta-commentary continue to please and establish a sophisticated wit that I believe will usher in viewers who were skeptical of the show’s naked premises of a female roommate shaking up the lives of three male roommates.

I was disappointed, however, that Winston was not afforded a shred of a C-story. His two major contributions were as passerby witness to the thwarted threesome and as the discoverer of a damning list of Schmidt’s 2007 New Year’s resolutions (some of which I will post in L.O.L.Ls) and when he is tasked with painting over the mural in Schmidt’s “interplanetary sex dojo,” a description which had me gasping for air I laughed so violently. Winston has not always been neglected, but when he is it reeks of laziness, because they’ve sewn the fabric for future exploration of his post-basketball life and his struggles with readjustment.

The tie-in of assumptions and misinterpretations is presented so strongly though, its mostly forgivable. Nonetheless, I was thrown slightly as to why Jess would persist in indulging Remy’s horndog tendencies just to prove a point. It would only serve to degrade Jess to engage in such a seemingly horrendous act, but I suppose the over-the-top elements speak to how strong Jess and Nick’s convictions are to be right. Also, it served the added function of strengthening the sexual tension by teasing the “pool of possibility” that they might kiss. I’m not the biggest fan of a will they/won’t they scenario for this show, but those two clearly exude the most chemistry so I will keep an open mind, as Jess would recommend.

Those reservations aside, this week churned out another 22 minutes of top-shelf jokes (a surprising number were delivered by Zooey Deschanel as she continues to debunk the myths of her comedic shortcomings), reaffirmed my man crush on Schmidt’s buffoonery, and enhanced Jess and Nick’s likability by offering a background for those who scorned their apparent one-notedness. My outlook for the series’ future reflects that of our incessantly sanguine title character. “New Girl” persists in the face of low, but premature critical expectations, beating the odds with sustainability and a B+.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- When a stranger brandishes his gun, Jess shouts, “Oh my god, it’s like the Wire!”

- “I like your bucket of…gasoline. Super practical.”

- “I’ve got a fun exercise. I’d like every one to take a moment and think back to a time when you did something stupid, how they were treated, and how they wished they were treated.”

- “You look like you should be distracting James Bond at a baccarat table.”

Some of Schmidt’s more notable New Year’s resolutions from 2007:

1. Find the cocoon that will release your inner butterfly

2. Find out where Winston gets his sparkle and steal it

3. Start floating idea people call me Mr. Finish/Gametime Jones/The Hookup-erator

4. Just pick a color of Crocs and buy them already!

- Remy, the landlord, finding common ground with Nick:

“Did you go out looking for companionship, a little human warmth, and when you came to you were in the woods, covered in animal blood?”

“In my own way.”

- Nick to Jess: I think you could do a lot worse than Remy. He’s got strong arms.”

- “Great choice, Remy. Nick will make a fantastic underpants captain!”

Ann (Rashida Jones) waits impatiently for the slew of dates Leslie (Amy Poehler) has lined up for her.

At times, “Parks and Recreation” can feel like a delightful embarrassment of riches. There are so many balls in the air that you wonder how they could possibly be juggling them all. Just as you did with the pretty, popular valedictorian in high school, you dug deep to extract that one irredeemable quality. The pivotal flaw that you could exploit to prove she doesn’t deserve the student body’s worship. Then you confront that flaw and realize that even her imperfections make her likable. Then you hate your yourself, because you aren’t pretty, popular, or smart and your flaws just repel all the attractive people.

Excluding the last sentence (I think I’m swell), this has been my relationship with “Parks” as a critic. As a fan, I have laughed my ass off, fallen in love with all the characters, and even began to prefer hanging out in Pawnee over my hometown in suburban Connecticut. As a critic, it’s counterintuitive to my very existence to unconditionally adore any TV show. That same act of extracting flaws is turned toward more productive pursuits (in my humble opinion), the analysis of what makes for effective storytelling. In the case of “Parks,” I have crammed my reviews with praise for the writers’ ability to craft and maintain multidimensional characters and how they can cultivate jokes rooted in their specific traits. Tonight’s episode, however, reminded me of Ann: quite possibly the sweetest, most charming blemish.

Leslie’s best friend and ex-girlfriend to both Chris and Andy, is largely defined by those relationships. Who she’s dating and how exemplary her friendship with Leslie is, are her major talking points. Tonight spoke to the show’s stagnation with her role, and the stagnation it can foster when she either isn’t dating someone or when Leslie’s attention is focused elsewhere: such as Ben and her campaign. But what made this episode extraordinary was that it simultaneously answered that concern with rich possibilities for self-discovery that can add to the already intricately-woven tapestry that is the Pawnee Parks Department.

It’s February 13, or as Leslie has dubbed it, Galentine’s Day: a celebration in sisterhood. The adorable concept, Leslie  takes her gal pals to brunch so that they may love themselves as women, individually and communally, but separate from the men in their lives. Obviously, this year is different. Leslie’s in love. Silly, miraculous, sickening, dreamy love. And Ann, who churns through guys like today’s teenagers do cell phones, is alone. During her “confessional” she convinces herself that she is at piece with her singlehood, and at the table she congratulates the others (Donna, Leslie’s mom, April) on their relationships. However sincere, it’s laughable how sarcastic she sounds. Immediately, Leslie swoops in to save her dearest friend like a animal caught in some netting. This is not an original plot by ANY means. Ann and Leslie have played opposite roles, but the general principle of matchmaking prevails. What makes it feel brand new are the contributions from the rest of the gang. They’re not at all obligated to, but because Leslie would “lit’rally” do anything for them, they ask Leslie “How high,” before she even requests they jump. Sure, it wasn’t the cleverest plot ever conceived, but it gave us an excuse to return to the giving, thoughtful Leslie. It would be an exaggeration to say politics has changed her, but it has forced her to be self-absorbed, and before I could recognize how much I missed her magnanimity she reappeared.

The scope of her altruism extended to her valentine as well. Though they had promised not to exchange gifts, Ben had a stuffed animal made based on her recurring dream of a playboy otter (where do these ideas COME FROM), and she gave him—a cryptex. Inspired by the first movie they watched together on Starz HD, “The Da Vinci Code,” it’s a device that stores inside instructions on how to arrive at his surprise. Of course, he must know the five-letter code first, and he is clueless. Thus, the ingenious trio of sleuths, Ben, Ron and Andy is formed (not before Ron and Andy suggest the code might be f**k and actually “break it”). Hot on the trail, Ron tries to resist the allure of riddles and clues. Once he discovers he has a knack for the game, his patented giggle is unleashed, one that is only revealed when Swanson breaks down his meat-soaked, manly exterior and simply enjoys himself. The point is illustrated superbly in one outlandish, ironic scene, Ron enters “The Bulge,” Pawnee’s premier gay bar. He confidently saunters in, inquires about Leslie’s clue, retrieves it and then walks out giggling effeminately as the aroused patrons gawk at him, bewildered. It’s a truly mesmerizing scene that renders you silent until the awes dissipates and you erupt at how splendid it is to watch Ron own that room, as if it were his old stomping grounds, despite being the antithesis of the Swanson way.

At the annual couples dance, sponsored by the Parks Department, Jerry, April and Tom try to scrounge up candidates to be Ann’s date. Jerry incidentally hires a gay male escort and Tom contributes the cowboy wanna-be, Harris. Harris is played by Emerson College alum (rep my school!) Harris Wittels, one of the most frequent writers for the show. He makes an impression as a lives-at-home Phish Phanatic (he’s been to 308 concerts). Former flame, Chris, has sunken into the polar opposite of his usual optimism, all-encompassing sadness. As DJ for the event, he constructs the most miserable playlist. Tom, often a catalyst for parties trying to break the fun barrier, tries to cheer him up pointing out how many prospects could be out there in the dance floor. Chris’ pessimistic reply is that no one compares to Millicent Gurgitch: everyone except her father Jerry. What ensued was the laugh out loud nominee for best facial expression, a longing, gentle stare from across the room. Just the idea of Chris yearning for Jerry makes me burst out.

Eventually, Ron solves Leslie’s 25-clue scavenger hunt when he suggests that the only thing she covets more than romance is being right. He asks Ben if he has recently shifted to her way of thinking on a point of disagreement recently. Ben applauds Ron’s expertise and rushes over to Lil’ Sebastian’s grave. As fans beyond this season will know, Lil’ Sebastian is the miniature horse that captured the hearts of Pawneeans, no matter their creed. Ben (even Ron got visibly choked up at the horse’s funeral) doesn’t get it. The appeal escapes him. Leslie is blissfully unaware of his true feelings though, thinking he has finally come to understand his greatness. Her reward for Ben was to treat him to dinner, but when she suspects that Ann and Chris have left for a secret date to rekindle their feelings and remedy their loneliness he suggests it would be better that they spy on them. They would, of course, be breaking the same rule they had: a personal relationship between a superior and his subordinate.

All these shenanigans lead me back to my thesis on this episode’s depictions of growth. April, despite her usual ambivalence, or even sometimes active rooting for chaos, showed last week with Chris’ grieving that she puts others before herself in order to make them happy. Is it possible Leslie’s selflessness has rubbed off? At any rate, in this episode April assists the women she swore to despise ever since she kissed the man she’d later marry. Not only has her hostility softened, but she actively seeks to support Ann by offering an unlikely solution to a lack of well-intended male attention. Tom. No, seriously. This was no sabotage by April. And she makes a salient point. Tom, when you carve off the layer of swagger-ful facade, he is at his most basic elements a sweet guy who would dote on Ann, and make her feel like the most adored and important woman in the world, even against his better judgment. April also observes that Tom is the sole man to make her laugh and smile that night.

Upon LesBen’s arrival at the restaurant they had followed Ann to, it’s revealed to us that the Tom/Ann pairing came to fruition, at least for a few drinks that night. They were the secret date Leslie had speculated about. Suggestive of her improvement in approaching healthier romantic relationships, Ann decides to allow Tom the opportunity to audition. By all accounts, he fails miserably. He makes some wisecrack about getting to know each other so they may later “snuggle up, like little bunnnnnies.” Ann says, “Ugh, this was a mistake,” and it’s over. So Tom doesn’t make significant strides like April did, and Ron only told Leslie how titillating he found her series of riddles in reverse psychological code. And that’s okay. It wouldn’t have been so authentic if everyone had resolved their imperfections. Ann remaining a “beautiful spinster” is not a blight on the tapestry’s fabric.

For me, “Operation Ann” signified progress. Alan Sepinwall, a fellow critic whom I look up to, theorizes that maybe April’s marked spike in maturity could be a precursor to her breaking away from Andy. One of his commenters suggested maybe it is his Andy himself, and his pure heart, that has galvanized her good deeds. Either way, whether April blossoms into a benevolent young lady is immaterial. It matters not that Tom thwarts his chance to woo Ann. The vital ingredient this episode added to the mixture was motivation. As mentioned above, I applaud the “Parks” staff for their commitment to the authenticity of their characters. Their voices are distinct and their ideals, their motivations, their far, their desires are clearly mapped, by now. But my stamp of approval was earned when they broke their own conventions of the characters allowing them the forward movement to fundamentally change aspects of who they are.

We want to spend time with these guys because they feel real, because they assert themselves. They make mistakes. They live. And there’s no reset button that erases the previous week’s errors in judgment. There are rules, and damn it, they break them week to week, but not without consequence. The numerous slaughter murals that adorn Pawnee’s City Hall may not be an accurate representation of the kind souls we’ve come to know inhabit that town, but they do convey an undeniable truth of their world and ours. Nothing lasts forever. When discussing the roots of his despair with Leslie, Chris tellingly poses the question, “What if I have already achieved my personal best?” Because they pushed our pals along with the winds of conflict and change, and by testing their “babies” they challenged themselves (as writers), while not sacrificing the consistency and rhythm of its rise-and-fall jokes, the “Operation” was successful… A-

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “Thank you for being here. Let’s get started.” “Wow, Ron. Great attitude!” “Sorry, I was talking to these ribs.”

- “Does Ann have a little Indian in here?” “No I don’t think so…” “Would she like some?”

- “April hates Valentine’s Day, and brunch, and outside, and smiling. Haha, she’s weird.”

- “Let this be a call a wakeup call about how you present yourself to the world.”

- “Can we change the music? It kinda sounds like the end of a movie about a monk who kills himself.”

- “…Not as beautiful as my sister, but you know, the law.”

- “Screw romantic dinners, let’s go rub it in their face!”

- “I got lucky…AND I LOVE RIDDLES!”

Julia (Lizzy Caplan) reluctantly represents the cutesy Jessica Day (Zooey Deschanel)

A show’s longevity can often be a testament to the respect for the fan base. Writers with their ear to the ground earn the privilege of long careers for being flexible, maintaining the ebb and flow between art and viewer. Nowadays, audience feedback has exponentially increased with the advent of blogs and message boards. Opinions don’t go unexpressed by the internet generation. Trends are cooked up in mere minutes and memes become notorious within just a few clicks.

So it should come as no shock that the folks at “New Girl” are privy to the cyber-rage being leveled at their leading lady. To be frank, Zooey Deschanel has done nothing to directly warrant the diss-heavy rhetoric of these incensed commentators, but the persona she embodies ruffles some feathers. She’s the eternal optimist. She’s the girl who bakes cookies and cupcakes “just ’cause.” As she confesses in tonight’s episode, “she’s probably touched glitter in the last 24 hours.” It’s sickening just how cheerful she can be and that provokes intense hatred among cynics and pragmatists the world over.

Tonight, creator Elizabeth Meriwether and writer Luvh Rahke fired back. Meta-commentary, or the act of referencing a show’s flaws/quirks/distinct qualities within the show itself, has become an integral evolution of the sitcom, especially with the new advent of the the single-camera comedy. When you can poke fun at yourself, you earn not only the respect of your detractors, but you embolden your apologists. Lizzy Caplan, introduced last week as Nick’s “we don’t like labels, but we have sex” partner, Julia, served as the mouthpiece for those disgusted by Jess’ sunny disposition. Eager to have another female in the apartment, Jess tries to befriend Julia. She asks the competent lawyer for her counsel in appealing a traffic violation. When they sit down to discuss the parameters of the incident, Julia draws first blood.

Jess recalls the incident, stating that the violation occurred when she stopped in the middle of the road to rescue an injured bird. In disbelief, Julia remarks to Jess that her “whole thing” might just help in court. Here’s a Girl-speak refresher course for you: “whole thing” is code for a defect in another’s girl personality, potentially a front for a more preferable personality type. She also adds that the big eyes resemble a “scared baby.” In laymen’s terms she passive-agressively told Jess, she thinks she’s weird. To combat her guilt, after she read Jess’ pained expression, Julia then confides in her, asking if she can share about Nick’s activity with other girls. When Jess takes the high road, deciding to not violate her trust with Nick, it begins a tale as old as time. The Girly Girl vs. The Smart Girl. Ring the bell.

Now, I too have been critical of Jess, but I never directed that frustration at Ms. Deschanel. Her charm, and magnetic screen presence should make other envious, and her sense of humor is unique and she owns it. My problem is as written she often acts so naive, she should be dead. But as this episode suggests, I believe her behavior is a lifestyle, a decision to embrace the loveliness in the mundane, to elevate the pretty to a level of equal importance with the substantial. This can be an interesting route to go comedically, because you can play with how her world affects her perception, and how she reconciles the inevitable conflicts that call her idealism into question.

Along with these ambitious efforts, there was also some silliness spread amongst out male trio. Nick was essentially entangled in the Jess/Julia standoff, but he had the privilege of backing off and letting it play out. However, he encountered some struggles of his own when Jess in a moment of atypical spite, deliberately told Nick that Julia inquired about his recent sexual activities. When he confronts Julia, they both try to maintain leverage, each one-upping the other’s claims of copious amounts of sex. By episode’s end, both have conceded they wish to be exclusive, dissolving their facades. Nick delivered many of his patented “trying too hard” non sequiturs, but he drew the most fervor from Schmidt when he admitted to using his towel unintentionally. Though he doesn’t understand the outrage. “Oh come on, I don’t wash towels, the towel washes me!” “You guys don’t share underpants either? That’s what roommates do!”

Schmidt, still my vote for new comedy MVP, launched a crusade on dampness. His theory is that with more girls in the apartment, his towel has gotten damper, and his fortress of cleanliness had been disturbed. At first, I was weary of this plot. I love me some Schmidt getting flustered, but I didn’t want this minute conflict to diminish the progress made two weeks ago where Schmidt opened up about what he really wants. Alas, my faith was rewarded, and we get a stellar scene where Schmidt in attempting to traverse the living area, sans towel, slips, exposing himself: his junk and his true feelings. In a fit of consternation, Schmidt voices his unmet expectations about living with Jess. He thought he would be having way more sex! Ha! Oh, New Girl, just when I thought Schmidt was going to level with us again, he rips a page out of Douchebag 101. I think the balance between these neurotic, douchey, and more vulnerable characteristics are superb, and should be all means be encouraged in the weeks to come.

Even Winston, gets a spotlight. I still feel as though we know far too little of who Winston is outside of a man without a country. That country used to be Latvia, where he was a humongous star with several endorsements. But now, not only is he jobless, but he must confront his insecurities. Without the glamour of his pro ball career, he has no game with the ladies. In an attempt to relive his glory days, he calls up Shelby, former booty call. In a bit of comic genius, it’s slowly revealed to us that Winston has broken all the cardinal rules of dating. First, he met up with her at HER OWN RESTAURANT, he made her get her own drink (water), and he talked about himself the whole time. Mad rusty. Shutting out any advice from Schmidt, Jess serves him some humble pie. She demands he listen to her, that he swallow his pride and realize he has no game, and admit that he was an idiot for using her before. The apprentice then shines by insisting Shelby tell him all that he has missed, and he fully claims responsibility for being a jerk in the past. The humility angle works and he scores a second date. His victory dance is so disturbing (and hilarious)that it almost alarmed her to point where she thought he might be having a seizure, but baby steps. That goes for the series too. It’s proceeding cautiously with Winston, unsure of what his identity can be apart from how he relates to his buddies and who he once was, but by humbling him, they have opened the door for post-Latvia Winston.

So who come out victorious in the showdown of frills vs. wit? Surprisingly, the winner wore a ribbon hat. Reluctantly fulfilling her obligation, Julia showed up to represent Jess, but it was during the post-trial recess where Jess began her defense. Once Julia made a smarmy remark about her “bird defense” Jess pulled no punches. Self-assured, she takes pride in her propensity for cuteness, but strikes the final blow, announcing that she hates what her pantsuit represets, Julia’s feelings of superiority. She can be just as smart, and tough and strong. If Meriwether backs up Jess’ swagger in the episodes to come, then I believe we can look forward to a whole new reservoir for material.

The only worry moving forward might be that they won’t find a better anti-Jess than Lizzy Caplan’s Julia. Of course she is Nick’s squeeze for now, but when they inevitably break up (Nick’s nowhere near secure enough in himself to have a big boy relationship) we’ll lose the springboard for many great contentions. Even when they resolve their tensions in the end, and Jess invites her to crochet, Julia becomes incensed about her imprecision with the craft. Jess’ response: “If you are making a hat for a baby, you are done!” Where else can you find that kind of chemsitry? Let’s hope the well doesn’t go dry any time soon, because top-form New Girl is a thing of equal parts beauty and whimsy. For showcasing all the roommates, approaching the ambition task of meta-humor with grace and executing with tremendous payoff for Jess the character, and maintaining a level of pound-for-pound, joke-for-joke excellence, the fresh and ever-evolving “New Girl” has nearly established itself as a prizefighter in comedy circles with the back-to-back A-.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “He doesn’t believe in mail, which has to do with his views on government spending.”

- “I’m gonna smack that lawyer learning right out of her mouth.”

- “I’ll be putting my dehumidifier and my towel in my room, where nothing gets wet.”

- “Did you just hear the words ‘lesbian community’ and come rushing out of your room?”

- “I’m like a mailman. Except instead of mail, it’s hot sex I deliver.”    Wow, two mail jokes!

- ” If I acted like you at work, my students would turn in weird, really dark dioramas.”

- “I’m about to pay this $500 fine and my checks have baby farm animals on them, bitch.”

- “As a lesbian gynecologist, perhaps we should sit down and talk about our OSI….oh, our shared interests.”

Leslie (Amy Poehler) looks to court a reluctant voter with bowling skills and "laid-back" demeanor.

When “Parks and Recreation” started out, it was “The Office” 2.0. Whether comparisons were fair or not (they did share producers/writers Greg Daniels and Michael Schur) it was a comedy founded upon the idea of hilarious interaction in the workplace. And once we came to know these characters and the dynamic they shared, the show was heralded by critics. It’s only natural then, that the TV critic community might would become weary of the potential for shaking up a successful formula. Leslie Knope is running for office, and as her adoring fans we would like to witness her triumph. But what would happen to the gang if she was a city councilwoman? For now, they are diligent phone operators and fundraisers, but how long can that last? Will it feel like the gang is playing second fiddle to the LesBen power couple?

This episode scoffs at that notion. Much of this episode’s charm was in the the B- and C-stories that showcased two of the most facially gifted, delivery-nailing comedic actors out there, Nick Offerman and Aubrey Plaza. Offerman’s Ron Swanson is not only my favorite character in current comedy, but he is a cult figure for his love of meat and breakfast food, his staunch libertarianism, and his intolerance for girlish men. Plaza’s April Ludgate has epitomized the ironic youth of today. She is the sarcastic observer who wants chaos to unfold so that she may mock its meaninglessness. Both not only execute their fan-favorite quirks with deadly accuracy this week, but they reach beyond themselves in moments of growth (eh, maybe baby steps) that provided payoff and pathos.

LesBen and the “Knope We Can” campaign kick off a series of focus groups in order to gauge Leslie’s appeal. Many seem to feel off-put by her perceived elitism. The snob in me would wish to defend Knope by pointing out that just because these folks have a fourth grade education does not make Leslie an elitist, but I will refrain from generalizations as I am above that. Damn, still pretentious. Well, at any rate, one comment particularly gets under Leslie’s skin: “She doesn’t seem like someone I would want to bowl with.” With a target in her sights, Leslie locks on Derek, or “Bowling Comment,” as her binder full of research describes. Ben, as boyfriend, teases her relentlessly about her obsessiveness. After multiple insistences that he can ask Ron how good she is at bowling he asks, “So I’m not sure I believe you’re good at bowling is there someone I could ask?” As campaign manger, he tries to reel her in. Strategically, the one vote doesn’t matter, and if she fixates on him she could lose votes instead. So, Leslie’s compromise is to sponsor a bowling night where she can schmooze with the voters and prove she is laid back (and a good bowler as Ron can attest too, apparently).

As Leslie tries to establish her public persona most of the gang is making calls to raise money. Jerry, for Twilight Zone-like reasons, has been put in charge  and April, Andy, Donna and Chris are under his leadership. To liven up the “phone party,” Jerry incentivizes the task by offering the winner two movie passes for who ever raises the most. Chris’ eternal perk and knack for flattery seem like assurances he will win, but once he begins to celebrate his lead in the standings, April resolves she must win to “make his happiness go away.” Her efforts include creating a down-home country-fried southern belle voice, and she appeals to the Latino voters with her fluent Spanish (she is Puerto-Rican) through shouts of “Mira, mira, mira!” The competition is interrupted, however ,when Jerry lets it slip that his daughter Millie will break up with Chris. The unflinching optimist is unaware, believing they are about to move in together. When Millie comes over to take Chris “for a walk” the gang who has grown to care for him, even though just a year ago he was an outsider and threat to the Parks department, tries to warn him of the impending heartbreak, but unassuming he laughs off their subtle forebodings.

Ann, Tom and Ron join LesBen at the bowling night, much to Ron’s delight. The restaurant inside the alley is his favorite in Pawnee. It serves only hot dogs and hamburgers, but Offerman’s glee shrouded in mustache suggests that is all Ron truly needs. In contrast, Tom (Aziz Ansari) arrives with pomp and circumstance. For all my cinephiles, he dons a black version of the satin scorpion jacket sported by Ryan Gosling in “Drive.” Ron continues to relish in his simple values, regardless (referring to Ann, as “Girl” was particularly authentic). Tom shakes that foundation to the core though when he bowls two-handed, “granny style,” and scores a strike. Ron is outraged that such an embarrassing display could result in success.

Despite Leslie’s spinning her inability to “let go” into a popular event, she hadn’t buried the hatchet. She sent Derek an invitation in the mail and when she spots him, she immediately swoops in to challenge him to a friendly game and a hot plate of wings (she creepily smiles at the camera saying she totally knew he’d loved them, pointing at her binder). She lets the man win, and even strokes his ego along the way, which in itself seems very anti-Leslie, but this guy really got under her skin. She outlines her issue with Ben saying that she can’t control being a woman, or being short, or blonde, but she can control her perception. She NEEDS Derek to perceive her as fun. Once Derek wins with only a mediocre score, Leslie springs on him the question about his vote. He still won’t vote for her. Leslie, then tries to earn his vote saying that if she can beat him fair and square he will guarantee his vote. Ben, during this whole fiasco, is extremely frustrated, wishing Leslie would take the opportunity to face-to-face with more people, but what makes him perfect for Leslie is he says his piece and then falls back, letting his love make her own mistakes.

Once she absolutely slays Derek in bowling she tries to be civil and say, “Hey, seriously it’s been fun, and I hope I can genuinely count on your vote.” Then, Derek replies, “Sure, I’ll write-in Bitch.” Outraged, Ben goes COMPLETELY out of character and punches the man in the face. He instantly apologizes, but Leslie is impressed! And who can blame her? Despite her feminism and opposition to violence, she found out her love can protect her and that’s not something she should regret, it’s something she should cherish. But in the public eye, it’s something she should apologize for. To avoid Derek pressing charges, she intends to save face (pun intended).

Here begins the laundry lists of reversals the episode elicits. Although, “Bowling for Votes” is brimming with jokes that hit upon specific beats as opposed to hitting on a level of general wit and charm, our quirky and even lovable friends in Pawnee don’t remain static. They learn from their mistakes, they feed off the emotions of their friends, and they realize that who they need to gratify first is themselves.

For Ron, “Bowling with two hands is embarrassing” Swanson, Tom’s inevitable victory is not an option, it is an aberration that should be ignored, but for posterity’s sake he must prevent it. He sabotages Tom by jamming his “fing-y” between two bowling balls. He suspects he won’t be able to bowl the last frame. When Tom perseveres and hits enough pins with just one hand, Ron is visibly distraught. In the very last scene, he takes his baby steps by showing up in sunglasses, marking his name as “Man” and bowling  Tom’s way. In hilarious, yet predictable manner, he bowls a perfect game. The manager asks for a photo to put up on the wall, but Ron assures that he was never there and walks off. Of course, he shouldn’t have been embarrassed for the tremendous achievement, but to acknowledge that another’s way might be better is like asking Ron to change his entire fabric of being. It’s progress Ron can’t possibly sustain, but memorable for his effort.

April, likely surprised the most when, in a moment of weakness, she offered condolences and a gift to Chris. In the aftermath of the breakup, Chris never came back to make calls and April won the movie tickets. Feeling as though he might need support, and perhaps feeling guilty that she wished for his happiness to go away, she approaches him reticently. Once at the office, he represses his pain. He tries to dip into his well of positive thinking, but comes out empty and dry. “But here’s why it may be the greatest thing that ever happened…” When he just stands there, she offers him the tickets out of pure kindness, suggesting maybe he use them to join her and Andy at the movies someday soon. Nobody with any sense of April would believe she didn’t care about at least some of these people, but to see her take a shine to her emotionally polar opposite (the man who loves all vs. The woman who is always “meh”) was quite a departure. Both Ron and April have these facades, these masks they wear for their own amusement and protection, but here the masks are removed and the likable, decent folk emerge.

Leslie’s reversal occurs to her in mid-apology. She shouldn’t apologize for something she’s  deemed awesome. She may admit too much in revealing how much they “made out after,” but the message is understood. She loves Ben, and when Ben stood up for Leslie by clocking a jerk who called her “her second least favorite word for a woman” she felt protected and honored. Turns out, the focus groups love that kind of gusto to stand up for what you believe in while risking that others may not stand behind you. This may seem like an all-to-easily-swayed voting population, but stranger and more arbitrary aspects have won a candidate elections before. Most importantly, Leslie gained a better understanding of the sort of candidate she wants to be, separate from what is “electable.”

Leslie’s arc can largely be viewed as a metaphor for the show. No one can ever accuse the ensemble of “Parks and Recreation” of being inauthentic. Some weeks Andy may seem too much of an idiot, Tom may be too showy, and Leslie can be too manic about a project (Ron could never be too much of anything, it’s all gold). And while moderation, range and/or subtlety are great practices in human behavior and in television, what make the Parks gang a fun group to be with is that they never disappoint. They are flawed, but they never fall shy of expectations in the terms of being themselves. If the campaign trail doesn’t change Leslie, than why should we worry the show’s essence will change. With no “wow” factor in terms of a slapstick tipping point, and without much of the electricity of of other recent episodes with joke frequency this might come off as an off-night. But for allowing Leslie to rediscover the personality and spunk that made that made her such an unstoppable public servant and a compelling candidate while shining the spotlight on Ron and April, two of the show’s more distinct contributions to the comedic canon, I can unapologetically  call this episode “awesome,” an A-.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “Oh I don’t know Jerry. It’s Sunday night, I’m making phone calls to strangers and you’re in my house. My night couldn’t be worse.” —April

- “I choose to support Team Knope. Because they’re the best. Everyone’s the best. We’re all winners.” —Chris

- “When I eat, it is the food that is scared.” —Ron Swanson

- “Son, people can see you!” —Ron Swanson

- “You can’t eat the biscuits if you don’t pay for the flower!”

- Andy, in response to hearing Jerry say Millie is going to break up with Chris: “Wow, that’s gonna be super weird when they move in together.”

- “I’d like to introduce you to my good friend, anyone else.” —Ben

- “What Champion? You need to go out now? Oh, sorry he hates awkward situations.” —Andy

Andy (Chris Pratt) takes an eye exam as his wife, April (Aubrey Plaza), looks on dumbfounded.

I’m not suggesting that Parks and Recreation should be viewed as anything beyond a belly laugher that occasionally will endear us with acts of kindness and friendship (and this CERTAINLY is not a slight), but I felt as though this episode had a pretty visible thematic undercurrent. Besides being a relevant social satire (perhaps) of the ongoing tete a tete between Newt Gingrich and Mitt Romney-endorsing Super PACs, I saw “Campaign Ad” as a commentary on idealism vs. realism. In both subplots, we saw the extremes employed. Andy and April chose to ignore their abysmal financial situation and hope that insurance would cover an absurd amount of medical care that evidently both have been neglecting for some time. And Ron F***ING Swanson was cruel and ruthless in crushing the dreams of the Public Works Department who hoped to build a dam. Of course, both incarnations of these world outlooks were hysterical, but obviously flawed. Ron surely could have been more compassionate, and based on Chris’ offer at toward the episode’s end, if he could remain open-minded a more lucrative and influential position of assistant city manager would await him. Could you imagine a Libertarian like him with the power to cut spending in any (and just maybe all) departments? And Andy certainly sees the world through rose-colored glasses. And according to his eye test, he needs actual glasses. According to his testimony it sounds as if he has been suffering from nearsightedness for oh…his whole adult life.

What we got with the main plot was the true face-off and subsequent compromise of these perspectives. Leslie is the idealist. When an opponent, played by movie star Paul Rudd, born of the Pawnee royal family, the Newports, pops into the race with his daddy’s corporate backing she firmly believes that although Bobby Newport is charismatic and affluent her status as a lifelong bureaucrat and champion of her city will propel her to victory. But frankly, Sweetums (the Newport family business), a candy conglomerate that employs half of Pawnee’s population, carries too much political sway. Ben, the realist, immediately sees the competition as the Goliath to their David. This does not necessarily discourage Ben either. He just is willing to play dirty. Leslie, however stands atop her principles, while reluctant to undermine her boyfriend’s strategy. His fairly sound plan is to buy airtime during halftime of the Pawnee vs Eagleton high school basketball game (more popular in town than the Super Bowl) to run an attack ad against Bobby Newport. With most of the gang in support, Leslie hesitates to voice her opinion, but once Ben senses her discomfort she refuses to ever do a negative ad. Though her ambition, to win on her merits alone and not by demeaning the opposition, is admirable but Ben aptly breaks it down. She does not have room for error. She is down 70 points, and needs something, anything, that will make her stand out before she’s DOA. An attack video could be that lynchpin.

Being the reasonable and supportive boyfriend he is, Ben suggests a competition. Leslie and he will pick teams and whichever team produces the better ad wins. During Leslie’s shoot there is the sight gag of Bobby Newport’s bus with that big smiling mug of his right behind Leslie as she hands a child a hot dog (how patriotic). This pales in comparison, however, to the funniest moment of the episode as the team of Tom, Ben and Jerry try and nail the perfect voiceover for their cliché slam against Bobby. Just replaying in my head that unlikely trio taking turns, showing off their most gravelly, menacing, and authoritative versions of the condescending narrator in these commercials (we all know the type), makes me break into howling laughter. Once they screen their respective submissions the victor is clear, though Leslie is swimming in the De-nial River. Ben quickly points out that, positive or not, her ad is ineffective. It never mentions that she is running for office nor ever says the words city council. Plus, her list of “some more things she’s pro” is miles long and in painfully small typeface. Eventually, she accepts defeat and trusts her boyfriend to do what’s best. It’s curious that this strong-willed woman would stroke her boyfriend’s ego, even if he may be right, but we are soon vindicated as loyal viewers.

Despite Leslie’s claims that she’s “very zen about it all,” she tackles Ben at the TV station as he is about to hand over the DVD. Another great bit of slapstick from a comedy that has limitless range. But the award for best use of physical comedy goes to Chris “Pratfall” Pratt a.k.a Andy. Not once, but three times he was called upon to fall over in this episode and every one had me (and hopefully not him) in stitches. As stated above, Andy and April were doctor’s appointment shopping after Ann told them about the wonders of health insurance when they came to her wondering what could be causing Andy’s symptoms. He’s saddled with a headache, seeing double, a song stuck in his head, his teeth hurting and he’s hungry—to which Ann quips, “Kay, well some of those things are symptoms and some of them are just being a person.” Then once inside the Pawnee Medical Center he opens up about a number of issues ranging from allergies to broken bones, to April needing a tooth pulled. But as I mentioned it is his spills that brought the whole bit together, the most prolific being when he decides to “dine and ditch” the hospital when he realizes the insurance required a $500 deductible. His response is then to rush out of the building, and in his haste he runs into the side of an ambulance. If you don’t burst out after seeing Pratt bounce back, you are a lifeless drone or one of the dementors from Harry Potter that suck out people’s souls.

Once Leslie sabotages Ben’s marketing strategy he decides that they can combine elements of their ads together to create an appealing and sweet, yet tactfully pointed argument for why she would be a much better councilperson. In the instant Youtube sensation, we see footage of 10-year-old Leslie making fake campaign ads promising cleaner streets and a more progressive tax on residential properties. In Bobby’s ads? He promises to…figure it out when he gets there. The widely viewed viral hit causes young Newport to call LesBen (my trademarked couple name) to dinner. Here’s where the episode hit its only real snag. Paul Rudd, like most of the cast, can charm the paints off me on a consistent basis, but the writers also know exactly who these characters are to the point where nothing they say is inauthentic.

In Bobby Newport’s pleas to Leslie for her to “just quit” he comes across as a spoiled version of Andy. Now, there is nothing wrong with the lovable loser. Andy executes it flawlessly almost every week. And Homer Simpson has done it for 25 years. But when you have two dudes who are dumb as rocks and man-children in terms of their grasp of responsibility on one show, it comes across a tad lazy. I buy that Bobby would think he’d get his way every time, but he might convey that in a way douchier than “Gimme it.” I was hoping for a Bush-like baffoon, who in the media’s perception tried very hard and often succeeded in sounding smart and put-together, but would on select occasions negate his efforts with mispronunciations and vagaries when discussing foreign and domestic agendas. At this point, I will lay off though, because I have the utmost faith that Harris Wittels (Emerson alum, REPRESENT) and the rest of the staff writers will re-write the ship (see what I did there) and utilize Paul Rudd’s smarmy delivery to make him closer to spoiled douche than spoiled dimwit, or possibly an unfounded mixture.

In lieu of a mixed reaction to Paul Rudd’s introduction to Pawnee, my inclination is to downgrade from last week, but the jokes hit everywhere else, and the April/Andy hospital buffet even topped the main thread with Leslie/Ben. Although, admittedly, the re-affirming moment where Leslie tells Bobby to toughen up, as Ben told her when debating the ad’s merits, in preparing for their debate did inspire in me a Tiger Woods fist pump. I imagine, sadly, that has less acceptance as a gesture post-scandal, but I felt triumphant all the same. The Ron/Chris subplot could have easily fallen under the radar, but it exhibited more precision in character authenticity. Again, that’s what made Bobby so strangely inferior in comparison, but in fairness Ron Swanson wasn’t the epic and thoroughly manly man from day one as I recall, so slack is being cut. There was also a nice callback to Ron’s Christmas gift as he tried to shut out Chris with his remote-control door, but quick as he is he snuck in. Also getting a callback—Andy’s gold record. Turns out his gift sparked the incident that jarred his “brain helmet,” him violently sneezing into the wall as he tried to mount the frame. Chris also served the purpose of adding a bit of intrigue that could mainfest itself as the election draws closer. With Ron being offered the position of assistant city manager that leaves the Parks director position. Obviously, he hasn’t made a decision, but once again the neurotic optimist throws a wrench in the machine and Leslie’s well-earned victory may not be so inevitable.

With all that in mind, factoring in my favorite lines, deliveries, and plain silly moments, I find myself compelled to edge Parks and Rec into A range as I have done with every P&R episode I have reviewed thus far, BUT due to the cathedral scale ceiling the series has set for itself in comparison to nearly all other comedies in rotation, I must reluctantly award “Campaign Ad” with a B+.*

*Be aware of this caveat, however, that the 2/3 letter deduction is mostly for its lapse in quality establishing Rudd’s character, who will have a multi-episode arc as Leslie’s only legitimate opponent, thus far. Also, when I considerd my lofty expectations of this show’s ability to combine barrages of emotional gut-punches with waves of uncontrollable giggling, it should be noted I never really felt a kinship with Leslie’s struggle, in spite of my disdain for mudslinging. I would have buried the rich prick. Therefore, I was less moved by her empowerment in the end (thanks in large part to Ben’s patience and support) as it felt overdue. Regardless, let the record show, this does not mean “New Girl” surpassed “Parks and Recreation” in producing a higher quality episode this week since they are evaluated on different scales with “New Girl” being in its infancy. Nice try though!

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “Hey Ann, are you still a nurse or did you get fired for sleeping with all the doctors?” “Wanna try that again?”

- “This is exactly how I dreamed it would be as a kid. Except I wasn’t 70 pts. behind and my campaign manager was Mr. Belivedere.”

- “I think I got a weird rash in my knee pit area.”

- “I once ate a Twix with the wrapper on it, and I’ve never seen the wrapper come out.”

- “When I bet on the horses I never lose. Why? I bet on all the horses.”

- “Ron Swanson! I just want to thank you for being so ruthless and cruel in that meeting the other day.” “You are going to have to be more specific.”

- “I rejected his lunch offer, then he started laughing and I ended up here. Did he drug me?!”

- “Here are some more things I’m pro…” Examples on the scrolling list included: Start talking to Cuba again, Better Better Business Bureau, Memorial for those lost in “trampoline” incident, No more conflict diamonds and making it illegal to refuse a hug

- Bobby Newport: Vice President of Nougat

- “I got my ankles microwaved!” “X-rayed…”

- “You get Jerry. You wanted to go negative, you get the biggest negative in the world.”

- “My dad’s friends with John Cougar Mellencamp. That’s pretty cool.”

- Ron tries to replace himself as Chris’ new friend with city hall regular, Kyle (or as he dubs him, Dennis). Chris asks if he is a “brother Japanophile?” Kyle says to Chris ” I was eating rice, and Ron told me to come up here, but sure that sounds fun.”

- “Call an ambulance! A different one than the one I ran into!”

- No, no more doctors. They’re a bunch of scam artists! Reel you in eight the free stuff, next thing you know…BAM! You ran into an ambulance. Every time.”

The gang shuffling their candidate across the ice not-so gracefully.

One of my many media consumption resolutions for winter break/the new year was to re-watch seasons 2&3 of “Parks and Recreation,” for two reasons. One, it’s my favorite comedy currently on TV. With “Louie” on hiatus it is hard to compare, but P&R is certainly in a heated battle for #1. Two, in reading a few year-end lists of my favorite TV critics I saw that the show was consistently in the top 5. Besides feeling validated that my opinion is in accordance with the “professionals” I was immediately curious about the rationale. I have only reviewed two episodes from season four thus far, and I know why they were A-quality episodes for me, but what made season 3 (the full season aired in 2011) so A-quality that it caused Alan Sepinwall to leapfrog “Breaking Bad” and crown it the best show of the last year?

What I immediately realized about Parks and Rec’s excellence was not necessarily something you can learn workshopping scripts. P&R has harnessed the ability to cultivate friendships—with the audience. Whether you are writing a film, a short story, novel or TV pilot you learn quickly that no one will care unless you can write characters that people will want to invest in. Leslie, Ron, April, Andy, Ann, Tom, Ben, Chris and even Jerry are all my dear  friends, and I cherish any time I get to spend with them. It’s not as simple as empathy, because at times these characters can be jerks, fail miserably, or be a shell of  themselves. But despite them falling short of your expectations you will love them anyway, and root for them to return to their most promising attributes.

Tonight was one of those episodes. None of our favorite people were firing on all cylinders. In fact, Ben and Leslie both got glimpses of the bottom, but just like the rest of the team, we wanted to stick by them. In most comedies, one of our main characters running for office would merely by a long setup for some killer payoffs where shenanigans ensue. But we want Leslie to win. She is the best thing about Pawnee, Indiana’s government and she would only bring the town to new heights, but she isn’t infallible. She is going to hit rough patches. But even though this is a comedy, we don’t wanna laugh at their failures. What we want is to have a hell of time on the way down.

“The Comeback Kid” refers to Leslie’s newfound identity as she re-launches her campaign. After bringing her relationship with Ben into the light she is polling horribly and her bigshot campaign team has abandoned. In their wake, the Parks and Rec department (and Ann) have decided they will not allow her to throw in the towel (like a Jon Huntsman, but with friends). Leslie declares her bestest friend, Ann (Rashida Jones) her campaign manger despite no prior knowledge of politics. Leslie then tells her she is pretty and that she will help her anyway. Her rationale that most murders are committed by professionals was typical Leslie pontificating without thinking it through. Her positivity is ramped up when Ann lands “Pistol Pete”  Disilio, a local sports hero to endorse her. Elated, she attempts to break dance as everything seemingly falls into place.

Ben is looking to make a comeback also, into respectability. Since resigning, taking the blame for his illicit relationship with Leslie, his production level has been dangerously low. Ben, however, disagrees when Chris (Rob Lowe) comes over to lift him out of what he perceives is “massive depression.” Ben continues to deny as he shows off his new recipe for calzones (a callback to an awkward conversation with the police chief where he expressed his love for the more practical and functional pizza alternative), and his foray into Claymation, or “Claymaysh” as he so coins. This B-plot might even be stronger than the main plot simply because it allows Adam Scott to be obnoxiously pitiful, and joyfully oblivious. Later on, Ben painfully tries to convince Chris that he is fine. He outlines his plans for Lo-cal Calzone Zone. in his confessional Chris admits it is literally the worst idea he has ever heard. Undeterred, he showcases his Claymaysh piece de resistance, “Requiem for a Tuesday.” When he actually watches, he is baffled and embarrassed. In three weeks he had only filmed his clay likeness getting out of bed, he breaks down and admits his deep depression.

Leslie’s rally starts to unravel when Pistol Pete refuses to dunk for Leslie. Apparently, dredging up his past is painful for him, and he wants to endorse her as his current self and not as his 17-year old, basketball star self. Across town Ron is pulled over in a rented truck trying to transport the materials for her stage. Ron, in rare form, gets the opportunity to dispute the law with the officer claiming that there is no “real” law that he is breaking. Except like four of them. OH! And guess who is along for the ride? Well, Tom, but also Andy and April with their new three-legged dog Champion. “Because he is the World’s champion of three-legged dogs.” Leslie motors over to save them, while leaving Ann to convince Pete to pull the old routine for her. What they both find out is the situation is much worse than anticipated. Ann uncovers that Pete is traumatized by his past because of how his father treated him. Leslie discovers that because the back of the truck was opened most of the wood, and part of the banner was Jetsons-ed (as Andy does not know the word jettisoned). Therefore, she may not have her star endorsement, a big enough enough, or a banner that shows her whole face.

When they arrive at the Pawnee Sports Center, the debacle continues. Thinking she is without Pistol Pete, Leslie rallies the troops, trying to adjust. But, alas, one more hurdle. When April called she forgot to mention they would need the basketball floor, but since the hockey team used the facilities most recently she must walk across ice to her minuscule podium, thus ushering in the funniest scene of the episode. No bunch like this one can quite execute this kind of slapstick. Between Champion peeing in Ron Swanson’s arms, Andy falling on his face, and all of them hoisting Leslie onto the tiny stage while “Get On Your Feet” plays in the background, it was truly an amusing struggle. As Leslie begins to fumble over her index cards since they were jostled while she was lifted onto the platform, Pistol Pete arrives! Thankfully, in an agreeable mood, he delivers the cheesy “Voting for Leslie Knope is a slam dunk” line and even attempts to dunk. I say “attempts” because he lands square on his tailbone due to the inherently slippery quality of ice.

Bringing both Ben and Leslie’s snafus to a resolution, Leslie predictably fires Ann, hiring Ben as her campaign manager. As the clearly more knowledgeable applicant, she discards any fear that his presence would be “poison” for her image and Ben willing takes the job despite Chris’s protective refusal. He needed a task, and she needed a stable expert. All is well for this charming couple as we’d hoped but they ride was as bumpy and delightful as we’d hoped.

Despite the unsurprising grasp these writers continue to display when writing for these band of misfits, it was just shy of a knock ‘em dead episode. Don’t get me wrong, this episode ups the ante for the amount of great lines/line deliveries. The Pistol Pete uses Ann as shrink bit fell flat though. It was a clever premise with no real meat to it. Any laughs were in theory as most of the interaction was off-screen. Also, with the sugary sweetness that both “Trial of Leslie Knope” and “Citizen Knope,” added to the mix, an already flawless recipe, my expectations were mighty high. Yet the time spent was an undeniable treat with a treasure trove of cackle-inducing lines and a “Dawwww” payoff at the end that revved up much of my sentimental attachment to this season. Feel-good, yet damn witty, and at times side splitting. Just how I like it. Therefore, since P&R’s staff continues to nail the authenticity of not only each individual’s quirkiness, but the group dynamic and all its sincerity I proudly grant the new year’s re-introduction to Pawnee politics with a A-.

L.O.L.Ls (Laugh out Loud Lines):

- “Oh Ann, you beautiful tropical fish.”

- Libertarianism courtesy of Ron Swanson: “I don’t wanna pain with a broad brush here, but every single contractor in the world is a miserable incompetent thief.”

- “In 1992, Pistol Pete’s last-second slam dunk clinched a victory over Eagleton High for the Pawnee Central Drunken Savages. Team mascot was later changed.”

- “Tom, be a man and sit on the lady’s lap!”

- “What’s that in the sole of my show? Red carpet. Everywhere I walk, I’m walking on red carpet.”

- “The past is great! Jitterbug, stagecoaches, Herman Munster.”

- Where are you? My mother’s butt, yeah that’s helpful.”

- “I’m kind of tearing this Claymation thing a new one.”

- “Windows are the eyes to the house.”

- “Can’t you do anything wrong, Jerry?”

- “Together we can beat…obese children. No wait…”

- “Don’t make out it’s making Champion sad.’

Adam Sandler has a few good points that make him different from all the other actors out there. As a comedian, he isn’t afraid to go the extra mile for the laugh. As a Jew, he isn’t afraid to flaunt his heritage in almost every movie he makes. These are all things that I can respect. As a woman, he falls just a little flat. Truth time: the only Adam Sandler movies I liked were “50 First Dates” and “You Don’t Mess with the Zohan.” When I saw the previews for “Jack and Jill” I immediately saw one actor trying to piggy-back on another actor’s thing. We all know the only actor that ever pulled a good gender-bender and made it funny was Eddie Murphy. But as a comedian, Adam Sandler was going to try.

The story is about a pair of twins, one guy, one girl (both played by Adam Sandler with the help of some movie magic). Jack was always the bright and popular twin. Jill was always socially awkward and constantly clung to her brother. The portrayal of their relationship was over the top. Jack was the level-headed busy-body, while Jill was made to look like a needy, passive-aggressive attention lover. But I saw a hint of reality in it that hit home. I turned to my movie +1 and told him “I used to hang on my brother all the time like that. I guess I can see why he got so annoyed.” 30 years later, Jack is a successful advertizing producer, whereas Jill’s still lives at home with a pet Cockatoo. Jill comes over for her annual visit that turns Jack’s life upside-down.

The plot is driven by a hitch in one of Jack’s ads for Dunkin Donuts. He needs to get a famous actor to sponsor the new Dunkaccino. And they get someone I never expected…Al Pacino…as himself. The plan was to get Pacino to go along with an ad where he changes his name to match the product. Al Pacino…Dunkaccino. Yeah, I guess they sound similar enough. But according to a fellow reviewer, Al Pacino was a back-up plan. The original actor for that role was supposed to be Jack Nicholson, but he’s MIA for some secretive health issue. Besides, how were the writers going to make Nicholson sound like Dunkaccino.

In order for Jack to succeed with his donut coffee commercial, he meets Pacino with Jill tagging along. And guess what happens…cliché alert… you probably guessed it…Pacino falls in love with the quirky Jill and won’t do the commercial unless Jill reciprocates. Meanwhile, Jack, as one of the few normal people in this movie, has to keep his sister happy so she will like Pacino back. The twins argue and fight and hate each other, but this follows another old formula: the twins realize how much they really love each other and make up in the enc. Things get a little crazy in between, but I won’t spoil those moments here. However, they are worth bringing up.

Adam Sandler does one thing well: making disgusting comedic moments seem tolerable enough to enjoy. The key is timing, and Adam Sandler has that down to a T. Maybe it’s because he is self-aware. Maybe he has a formula for how long his gags should last. Whatever he is doing, I got to say I am pretty pleased with the punch-lines and slap-stick…even if the movie as a whole was pretty bad. They never last longer than the length of an audience’s laughter. And even the length of the entire movie was appropriate. It was pretty short by comparison of other comedies out there.

“Jack and Jill” was a pretty bad movie if you wanted something meaningful. If you just wanted a little mindless humor then this is the movie for you. There was some adorable acting by Katie Holmes and some cute children making their debut. There were also some surprising celebrity cameos that redeemed the movie a little bit. It wasn’t terrible, but it also wasn’t that good. Don’t think to hard about this movie. See it later if you have too. In fact, use your DVD or streaming video services. “Jack and Jill” isn’t worth more than that.

Sandra Bernhard brings her one-woman show, "I Love Being Me, Don't You," to OBERON Nov. 1-4

Comedienne, rock star and provocateur Sandra Bernhard, is bringing her latest one-woman show, “I Love Being Me, Don’t You,” to OBERON, November 1-4. Bernhard is known for her love of glamour, her acerbic takedowns of celebrities, and her quick-paced, freewheeling, and abrasive commentary on all aspects of popular culture, which she mixes with songs and stories from her life.

She started stand-up at the age of 19, broke into TV on the short-lived “Richard Prior Show” and into film in the Scorsese classic, “The King of Comedy” with Jerry Lewis and Robert DeNiro. In the 80’s she was a frequent guest on the “David Letterman Show.” One characteristically manic and outrageous appearance with Madonna, at the height of the pop-star’s fame, provoked long lasting rumors that the two were lovers. In the early 90’s, Bernhard played Nancy Bartlett on the show “Roseanne,” one of the first openly gay characters on a prime-time sitcom.

Throughout the 00’s, Bernhard continued to appear on television and in live comedy shows. She also incited controversy for slamming the likes of Laura Bush and Sarah Palin in her characteristic style. On her latest live comedy album, she jokes about topics ranging from trying to “be green,” to celebrities Angelina Jolie, Tina Turner and Iman, to taking her girlfriend to a Kabballa Center.

Bernhard chatted on the phone with Blast about Twitter, Occupy Wall Street, observing Yom Kippur and how her show will be “the ultimate hip experience.”

***

Blast: I know you’ve played Boston before. What have the audiences been like?

Sandra Bernhard: Always an interesting diverse crowd there. Obviously there’s a lot of schools. School’s in session so people are engaged and reading. They’re in touch with what’s going on culturally and socially, so, you know, they’ve always been pretty good crowds.

Blast: You’re touring in support of your album, “I Love Being Me, Don’t You.” Where does the title come from?

SB: Actually a friend of mine came up with it for me. I was down to the wire and I needed a good title. You know, just something in keeping with all of my titles that are kind of laced with irony. It’s wordplay. It’s a fun title. Also it’s sort of a reflection on social media because everyone’s so into talking about themselves that they never know what anyone else is talking about. It’s kind of like, listen to me, I’m the one who has everything to say.

Blast: I know you’re a big Twitter-user. How do you use it? What’s the primary use for you?

SB: Well, the main use is, when I come up with ideas and funny one-liners it’s a great outlet. You know, normally, I always keep notebooks of material for my show, so over the years I’ve had pages and pages of one-liners and funny thoughts that maybe I never got to do because they become irrelevant. The great thing about Twitter is that you can get it out there in the moment. It’s a great place to remind people what you’re thinking of.

Blast: So you’ve got these notebooks, I wanted to ask you—for this show will you be drawing from notes? Have you memorized material? How similar will it be to the stuff on the album?

SB: The live show’s very different from the album because the album was recorded live last year in San Francisco and it was sort of an improvisational show. There were a lot of people on the bill that night. It was fun because we happened to be recording it and put it out. So people who come out to see this show are going to see something much different. There’s a band, there’s, you know, set pieces, it’s more theatrical, it’s more musical. So when they buy the album at the end of the night, it’s cool, because they’ll get something totally different.

Blast: Who’s in the band that you’ll be playing with in Cambridge?

SB: Actually, they’re all going to be people from Berklee that somebody put together for me. So I don’t know them yet but supposedly they’re all really good. [Laughs.]

Blast: Do you know what you’re going to sing ahead of time or will you be keeping them on their toes?

SB: Oh, yeah, of course! It’s a set performance with some improvisational elements in it. Basically it’s a show that I did out in L.A. for two weeks that got great reviews in the L.A. Times, and something I really put together in the beginning of the summer. So I’m now touring with it and adding elements that reflect what’s happening in the news and pop culture.

Blast: Speaking of what’s happening in the news, you’re always very outspoken about politics and I know you’re based in New York. I wanted to asked if you have any opinions about what’s happening in the Occupy Wall Street movement and the Occupy Boston movement that you’ll see when you come here.

SB: I think it’s great! I think it’s great to see a grassroots movement in this country again with people out on the streets who are trying to transform this country back to being in the benefit of the people as opposed to the corporations. And I think it’s having an effect. You know, they’ve been out there, and they continue to be out there and I totally support it.

Blast: Is that something you talk about in your act?

SB: Well, you know, I haven’t been performing since the whole thing happened. I might touch on it in Boston.

Blast: How do you know when you’re ready, that you have enough material to go on the road and do live shows again?

SB: Well, you know, when you’ve been doing it as along as I have, you know how long your show is, you have your set pieces, you have your improv, you have your songs, you know? And night-to-night, one of the things I’m very good at is improvising. So you know, the show could be an hour, it could be two hours depending on how much of a roll I’m on. So, you know, when you’ve been doing it for 30 years you kind of know when your show is ready.

Blast: What are some of the big themes for this show?

SB: Some of the themes are political, some of the themes are personal, some of the themes are memory-kind-of-based and fictionalized stories and songs all kind of interwoven. Some of it’s really funny. I keep it moving very quickly throughout the night and so it’s kind of up to the audience to keep up with me.

Blast: It’s interesting that you say “some of it’s really funny.” Are you comfortable having stretches that are more serious?

SB: I mean, most of it makes people laugh but when I say “just funny” I mean there are pieces, or my one-liners, that are just strictly for laughs and maybe a little less there to kind of stir it up. But overall I think my stuff works on a lot of different levels. That’s certainly what I want the outcome to be.

Blast: I was listening to the San Francisco show, which was wonderful—

SB: Thank you.

Blast: And one of things you were talking about was going to a Kabballa Center, and your Judaism. So I wanted to first say, happy New Year—

SB: Yeah, thank you. L’Shanah Tovah. We’re now into Sukkot tonight, so I’ve got to run into a sukkah for half-an-hour tonight.

Blast: Do you do that? Do you make a sukkah?

SB: I don’t. I can’t really make one in New York but there’s a million of them around. So, I’m going to go Sukkot hopping tonight! It’s really fun to go down there and you know, sit there and shake your lulov and your etrog and do all the things you can do to, you know, [laughs] stay connected.

Blast: What did you do for Yom Kippur this year?

SB: I went to services and fasted. And I did my traditional break-fast, which is to make all the family favorites: blitzes and noodle kugel and bean-and-barley soup. We get bagels and lox. You know, the whole nine yards.

Blast: Did you make any New Year’s resolutions?

SB: That’s the gentile New Year not the Jewish New Year. The Jewish New Year’s more of a transformation. It’s kind of like an opening of the cosmos to do a deep spiritual cleansing, to take a good look at your life over the last year and see how you want to shift it, but it’s not about, uh…making false promises.

Blast: Fair enough.

SB: Yeah, right?

Blast: Right on. Well is there anything else you want to tell people about the show to get them out? Anything else they should look forward to?

SB: Well, just that I think I kind of transcend age and like, time. That’s kind of what I’m good at, is keeping my finger on the pulse of what everyone wants to be a part of which is, you know, the ultimate hip experience, which my shows are. I always like to make sure college-age people—who are going to Harvard or B.U. or wherever they’re going—know that this is a show and an experience they don’t get to see very often. I’ve managed to keep my work very contemporary and yet take all those years of experience and make it kind of masterful.

Courtesy of Sony Pictures Publicity

Funny guy Jonah Hill strayed from the norm with his most recent film, Moneyball, a drama about the relationship between business and baseball.

The movie, also starring Brad Pitt and Philip Seymour Hoffman, is based on a book by Michael Lewis about baseball-player-turned-manager, Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) who struggles as the general manager of the Oakland A’s.  Beane hires a nerdy Yale grad with a degree in economics, Peter Brand (Jonah Hill) to employ his innovative idea about player statistics and success. Surprisingly, the new method takes them far, but not too far.

“The movie is about underdogs to me and people who are undervalued,” said Hill.

Although Hill’s character is definitely the underdog, Billy Beane always seems to be the ultimate second best.

Beane just can’t win, despite some valiant efforts.  Jonah Hill unknowingly touched on this subject in a 2007 interview when he said “It’s funny to see people struggle and you don’t buy that Brad Pitt is struggling.   You know that guy could be the most skill-less guy in the world, but if you look like that you will be fine for the rest of your life.”

When asked about this quote, Hill gave a sheepish smile and said, “I eat my idiotic words from when I was 20 and 21-years-old.”

“I just meant…it’s more identifiable to be someone going through shit. It’s a perfect example of why I was wrong,” Hill backtracked. “Brad, in this movie, plays a guy who’s just going through it, and his attractiveness has nothing to do with his character. He’s really just playing a guy you can identify with going through some shit. And it’s a really beautiful performance and its funny and raw. It’s cool.”

And Pitt’s performance is spectacular. Hill matches Pitt’s acting prowess, however, because he was able to make his debut role in a drama.

Jonah Hill at the Moneyball premiere in Toronto, courtesy of Sony Pictures Publicityseem effortless.

“There are funny moments in the movie…but it comes from a different type of character than I’ve ever done,” Hill explained.  “I am no longer an underdog in the comedy world…with this film, I’m an underdog again.”

Hill said he did a lot of studying for the movie, which included reading the book it was based off of.  He also drew inspiration for the character through his own life. He compared Peter Brand’s analysis of baseball players, which is largely centered on how much money and wins they will bring a team in the long run, to his own analysis of fellow actors.

“We look at a receipt and see how much you’re worth…this is how my friends and I analyze other actors…it’s all dollars.”

In spite of his recent success and major league collaborations, Hill remains humble and enthusiastic.

“I just want to make cool stuff, I want to make cool movies,” Hill said.

The title of this movie is enough to get people either interested or angry. I fall under “interested,” and jumped at the chance to be the first among my peers to see a movie that could fall into the same category as other movies like “The Hangover” and “Zach and Miri make a Porno” (honestly, not usually my cup of tea). I went to the movie theatre with a pad and pen, ready to take notes about the dialogue, the characters, and all that good stuff. I didn’t even make it through a quarter of the movie before I said “to hell with the note taking,” sat back, and enjoyed. I’m going to tell you know that “A Good Old Fashioned Orgy” is a must see before the summer ends.

The story begins with a bang, as a bunch of thirty-somethings converge in the Hamptons for a crazy party. Turns out, these friends have crazy parties at this house every weekend during the summer, but it will all come to an end when the actual owner of the house decides to sell it. To say goodbye, the friends decide to throw one last bash. I think you know where this is going.

Emmy-nominated writing team Alex Gregory and Peter Huyck (“The Larry Sanders” Show,” “King of the Hill”) took the idea for this story from a colleague who attended a party that actually ended with an orgy. However, instead of just throwing that thought at the characters, Gregory and Huyck cleverly manipulated an idea ripped straight from the headlines. You will know what I mean when you see it. The dialogue on its own is clever and in-your-face. There are non-stop laughs. The writers did everything right, but if I were to highlight something it would be their comedic timing.

Now, take this story and script, and couple it with a great, yet not as well-known cast, and you have movie gold. “SNL” actor Jason Sudeikis always adds to a scene with his quick wit. And when you pair him with the lovable, yet inappropriate Tyler Labine (“Zack and Miri Make a Porno”), you have the makings of the next big comedy duo. There are many other newer faces, some who are underutilized in the Hollywood industry. They fill all the roles a group of friends need: the fat guy, the joker, the stiff, the cute chick, the hot chick, and the humorous hypochondriac. All these clashing personalities somehow combine perfectly. And when you watch all these people having a good time, you end up having a great time too.

The music has the same comedic timing as the script: all excellent.

“A Good Old Fashioned Orgy” takes place in the Hamptons, but was actually filmed in Wilmington, North Carolina. It’s a beautiful setting that was completely necessary to the story, and matched the vibe of that wealthy Manhattan retreat. All the pieces come together so seamlessly, it almost seems effortless. In fact, the actual filming only took about 30 days.

I know you think I’m leaving something out…the orgy. I am pleased to tell you that it did not disappoint. It was awkward, ridiculous, and began with a levity that made every other viewer giggle and squeal. Be prepared for nudity, and a really great time. “A Good Old Fashioned Orgy” is on limited release, but it deserves the acclaim of a great generational and iconic classic. Go find and see this movie as soon as you can. It opens this Friday.

wireimage.com

Comedian Ricky Gervais was invited back to host the Golden Globes after a turbulent reception at last year’s awards, which almost gained him black list status.

Gervais was crude and harsh at last year’s awards, and some critics claimed he may never work in Hollywood again, but despite these reactions (which were plenty), Gervais was offered the job.  The Guardian reports that he will likely not take the offer, however.

“I am but I shouldn’t do it. It’s a second encore. Don’t do a second encore. I don’t think I should do it. What am I going back as?” Gervais said when the Guardian asked if he was considering the offer.

Less than 30 minutes in, I found myself laughing.

I was definitely skeptical of “30 Minutes or Less.” Even with the promise of Danny McBride (“Tropic Thunder,” “Pineapple Express”) and Jesse Eisenberg (“Zombieland,” “The Social Network”), it threatened to be just another dumb screwball comedy. But as soon as I saw Eisenberg’s pizza delivery boy, Nick, connive his way out of forking over a late pie for free, I was hooked.

The movie takes place in Grand Rapids, Michigan, a post-industrial town suffering from urban decay, A late-night call brings Nick to a scrap yard, where Dwayne (McBride) and Travis (Nick Swardson)—two deadbeats outfitted in gorilla costumes—jump him and knock him out with chloroform. Dwayne needs the cash that his ex-military dad (Fred Ward of “Tremors” fame) is holding hostage, and when Nick wakes up with a bomb strapped to his body, we learn that Dwayne isn’t willing to wait for his father to pass naturally; He wants the money now. To pay the hit man, he needs Nick to rob a bank—and there are only 10 hours until the bomb explodes.

At its heart, the movie satirizes Generation Y’s sense of entitlement and pokes fun at the plight of our recession-plagued world. Dwayne feels so entitled to his dad’s money that he’d kill for it. Nick is stuck in a dead-end job. His best friend, Chet (Aziz Ansari), has just begun his career as a teacher but is all too willing to abandon it  (“Teachers make shit money anyway”). Helping his buddy rob a bank is exciting and gives him a sense of purpose, even if it is in a backward, twisted kind of way. All of the characters feel entitled to a better life, and they’re scheming to get there—some with more success than others.

We’ve seen this kind of premise before—dopey young man needs to get out of an impossible situation before he unintentionally kills everyone within a 50-foot radius—and the jokes aren’t the most original. However, the acting sells the story, and Ansari and Eisenberg both have impeccable delivery.

The movie’s only real failing is in the relationship between Dwayne and his partner in crime, Travis. Their friendship does not resonate authentically like Chet and Nick’s does. Travis’s only really funny bit is when he is pretending to fix a banister while trailing the bomb-clad Nick. McBride’s Dwayne is humorous enough, but the character comes across as more thuggish and mean I would expect from a comedy.

Overall, “30 Minutes or Less” is an excellent movie to close out the summer. It’s not wholly unpredictable, but it accomplishes its goal: a laugh a minute for the audience. Even the end is satisfying—except for one major plot point left dangling. If you notice it, comment below or write to me jess@jesshuckins.com. We can commiserate together.

“I truly believe that there are a lot of people who need to go to jail,” said Thomas “Nephew Tommy” Miles. “But I think that there is way more people that need their ass whopped.”

Nephew Tommy, who is most known for his role on the syndicated Steve Harvey Morning Show, closes his stand-up comedy act with Tommy’s Ass Whipping Factory—his first client is Bishop Eddie Long.

Tommy describes his character on the morning show as “fun” and “loveable,” but on stage he will show you a different personality. “The guy you see doing stand-up is a 44-year-old man saying here’s how I feel about life…straight from the hip,” he said.

Tommy’s stand-up comedy special, “Just My Thoughts,” will be available on DVD and digital download July 26. By filming the show in Motor City Casino in Detroit, Tommy is following in the footsteps of great comedians before him such as actor/comedian Robin Williams.

His uncle Steve Harvey has also been instrumental in Tommy’s career. The name Nephew Tommy, which is now recognized by many, was derived from his relation to Harvey.

Tommy has been on the morning show with Harvey for 10 years and he has also toured with him across the country; but now Tommy is taking big strides and venturing out on his own. “I went out with Steve so many times and I was doing 20 minutes in front of him and I just had so much more to offer,” he explained.

Four years ago Tommy began doing stand-up comedy at small improv clubs with capacities between 200 and 350 people. He would do multiple shows on the weekends and come to the radio station on Mondays with a strained voice. Now, he sells out venues that hold thousands of people and only does one show per city.

“I was killing myself,” Tommy reflects. “But that’s what you have to do; you gotta go pay your dues.”

Although Tommy has achieved great success thus far, he has not forgotten his humble beginnings. He received his undergraduate degree in theater arts from Texas A&M University and says that for him, stand-up came second and theater was always first.

His career in stand-up began as the result of a friend encouraging him to enter an amateur comedy competition in his hometown. He won the competition, began performing more frequently and soon thereafter was asked to be the opening act for Luther Vandross. His first performance with Vandross was in Rochester, NY.

“All I can remember is after getting off stage and I have tears running down my face,” he recalls. “[I was] like ‘Wow I just opened up for Luther Vandross.’”

After touring with Vandross for three years in the United States and Europe, Tommy received a phone call from his uncle’s manager asking him to be on the Steve Harvey Morning Show for a week. Vandross’ tour, which was only supposed to be on hiatus for six months, never restarted.

“God gave me a job before I ever knew I needed a job,” said Tommy.

Currently, Tommy is proactive in securing his next move. He is already working on his second stand-up project titled “Life after 40,” which will be shot in October.

“After 40 things start happening,” he explained. “Like you can’t see good anymore, you can’t hear good anymore, you can’t remember shit no more. I’m doing a show on…how I’m going to kick 40s’ butt and make it work for me.”

It seems as if Tommy is already doing just that. Earlier this month he hosted the Essence Music Festival for the second consecutive year. That, along with the popularity of his stand-up shows, is evidence that he is definitely winning in the fight against his age.

“I’m just getting started and I got a long way to go,” he said. “Get on the ride ‘cause I’ma take you somewhere.”

The early reviews are in for “Your Highness”- and the verdict isn’t good. The medieval costume drama spoof has a 24 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Salon.com film critic Andrew O’Hehir mused about whether it was the worst film of all time. At the screening I attended, a fellow critic glanced at me after the show with a look normally reserved for trauma victims.

Indeed, not all of the jokes work in “Your Highness”- I’m not even sure most of the jokes work. But I’m not going to hate on “Your Highness”. Because while it’s stupid, hare-brained, strangely composed and pretty badly written, it managed to do what most comedies fail at: it really made me laugh.

The idea of creating a plot synopsis for this movie is like asking for an in-depth discussion of a Ke$ha song, but here goes: Thaddeus (Danny McBride), the younger son of a king of a faraway land feels overshadowed by his dashing, handsome elder brother Fabius (James Franco). After Fabius’ fiance (Zooey Deschanel) is kidnapped by an evil wizard (Justin Theroux) to be impregnated, Thaddeus accompanies his brother to get her back.

Ignore the fact that it’s basically a less funny Monty Python. Though it isn’t worthy to wash Monty Python’s feet, it does have its own offensive charm. Bad British accents, fart jokes and gratuitous dismemberment abounds. The jokes that work (including a particularly inspired piece involving a minotaur penis), work precisely because you feel slightly ashamed for laughing. Part of me felt I should be above the scatological, low-brow, obvious pot joke shitstorm that is this movie. But God help me, when Theroux crows triumphantly, “It’s too late! The Fuckening has begun!”, it was the most I’d laughed in a long time.

Not nearly everything works. There’s a far too long bit with a Yoda-like child molester called the “Wise Wizard,” and if this movie has a lesson, it’s that you shouldn’t ever include a child molester bit unless it’s the funniest bit of your life. And McBride is not a comedy leading man- there’s no lovableness to balance out all the homophobia and masturbation jokes.

This isn’t a smart movie, but it’s a fun one. Objectively I agree with all the negative reviews, but why hate on a brief stoner movie that brought me two hours of legitimate entertainment? I’ll bet anything you’ll feel a little bad about laughing. But laugh you will.

Leslie Nielsen attends Spanish Movie premiere at Kinepolis cinema on December 3, 2009 in Madrid

Legendary comedy actor Leslie Nielsen, known for starring in “Airplane!” and the “Naked Gun” film franchise, died Sunday of complications from pneumonia.

According to The Associated Press, his agent, John S. Kelly, said Nielsen died at a hospital near his home in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., where he was being treated for pneumonia. He died surrounded by family including his wife, Barbaree, and friends.

His family released a statement, which said, “We are sadden by the passing of beloved actor Leslie Nielsen, probably best remembered as Lt. Frank Drebin in The Naked Gun series of pictures, but who enjoyed a more than 60-year career in motion pictures and television.”

Nielsen leaves two daughters, Thea and Maura, from a previous marriage.

The Los Angeles Times reports that actress Natalie Portman has recently been shopping a raunchy comedy, titled “BYO (Bring Your Own)”, to studios that she co-wrote with her college friend Laura Moses.

The project, which was reported as a female-themed “Superbad,” centers on two vastly different young women who throw a party where each of the female party-goers brings a bachelor along.

Portman would star in and produce the comedy. Also, the source reports that Anne Hathaway has been interested in the second lead role.

According to Fox, “The Simpsons,” the longest-running comedy program in TV history, will be back next fall for a 23d season that will bring the beloved animated series to at least 500 episodes.

The program premiered in December 1989 and has won 27 Emmy Awards.

“The Simpsons” airs Sundays at 8 p.m.

Northeastern University’s chapter of the Kappa Sigma Fraternity held their eighth annual comedy night featuring Kevin Hart on Sunday.

Previous guests have included big names such as Seth Meyers and Bob Saget, and there was no shortage of laughter as this comedian of television and movies took the stage.

Kevin Hart visited Northeastern as part of his “Laugh at My Pain” Comedy Tour in which he shared stories about his past and puts a humorous spin on some of the less fortunate events in his life.

Comedians Will “Spank” Horton and Na’im Lynn opened for Hart and were more than able to sufficiently warm up the crowd for an evening of knee-slapping and laughter. The subject of jokes ranged from day-to-day activities to mature content, but nonetheless catered to the university crowd. If the audience was ever silent, its attention was rapt in the comedians who proved to be able story-tellers and hilarious personalities.

The show was the fruit of hard work for Tyler Dillman, Major Events Coordinator for Xi-Beta, who spent months organizing and planning the night. Kappa Sigma was the first Greek organization on campus to hold a major campus-wide event after the school’s student government opened up funding options to Greeks.

Thanks to the event’s co-hosts, the Resident Student Association and Sigma Sigma Sigma Sorority, the 1,000-seat Blackman Auditorium was sold out.

A genre in pop culture that has not been heard from in some time: The Stoner Comedy.

Though a few attempts have been made to rival the classic for our generation, one movie stands up to be called “The modern day Cheech and Chong.” I’m speaking of course about the movie “Half-Baked.” It has been over a decade since the movie’s release, but still it remains a staple in the recreational smoker’s movie repertoire. A major contributing reason for the movie’s cult-like success is due, in large part, to Mr. Jim Breuer.

His upcoming book “I’m Not High (But I Do Have a Lot of Crazy Stories About Life As A Goat Boy, A Dad, And A Spiritual Warrior)” will hit shelves on Tuesday. Blast had the pleasure of talking with this resin-soaked legend about this new endeavor and life as an author, comedian, Goat Boy, dad, and spiritual warrior.

BLAST: What are you feeling as you wait for the official release of your first book? Excitement?

JIM BREUER: You know what, I’m excited, but I don’t really know what to expect. I try not to get my hopes up. It’s like when I was doing Half-Baked. I thought that was going to be the greatest stoner character ever. Thought it would open up the doors for big blockbuster movies. But I haven’t been in a movie since!

BLAST: You’ve got to be a little anxious.

JB: Well, the thing is, I can live with the fact if it doesn’t do well because I wrote it. So I’m alright with it. I love the content. I’ll know I did a good job if I see someone with a copy of it at the airport, reading it in the terminal, like “This is really good!€

BLAST: How did you find the whole writing process? Since they were your stories, did you just find yourself flying through the pages?

JB: It was Emotionally draining. The whole. Freakin. Book. I hand wrote it. No computer or typewriter. Every single story in the book I have an emotional tie to. Whether it be sad, happy, funny, whatever. So by the time I was done, I was exhausted.

BLAST: You say there are sad stories too. Where these personal stories about family, or yourself?

JB: Yeah about family members that died. My brother, A really close friend of mine who passed away as well. There are a couple stories in there about some deep moments with Chappelle. Kind of shows some other sides of him.

BLAST: How did you go about editing the book?

JB: I actually just kind of gave out some copies I had my sister make to some close friends, and asked them to tell me what they thought. Once they read it, they all were pretty positive and told me “I loved this part€ or “This was my favorite section€. Then I knew I was really on to something.

BLAST: Getting away from the book for a second, are you still on tour right now?

JB: I am. This tour goes until December, then I start a little book signing tour. Then next year I really want to push the book with a decent length storytelling tour. Then I’d like to go back to radio full-time.

BLAST: How have you noticed your stand-up act change over the years as you mature.

JB: It’s changed a lot. I am constantly trying to keep the happy medium, though. That being changing the content and subject matter, but not changing the style of the delivery. I probably crush, now, more than I ever have before in my sets.

Jim Breuer is currently touring Midwest comedy clubs and will be making his way up the east coast, and appearing in some New York and New Jersey late November. “I’m Not High (But I Do Have a Lot of Crazy Stories about Life as a Goat Boy, A Dad, And a Spiritual Warrior)” will be available on Tuesday.