“Spaced” - A Rather Odd Review
Ladies and Gentlemen, please, gather yourselves up and bring yourself close because…I have a story to share. It’s a story that involves a life changing event and my story may very well have a major impact on your life. That is, if you will let it. If you will let in that which I have to say. For I have found my reason and my place. I’ve found my goal and purpose. I’ve found myself.
Something rather remarkable has happened to me in the last 48 hours. See, I witnessed an event that was unlike none other. This thing effected me so greatly that I can say with gleeful abandon it’s changed me for good. There’s no hope going back now, that way lay ruin, no, there’s only forward and the future to direct this grand, new adventure. What came before was fine, but it’s not enough for what’s next. See, this accident of brilliance so impacted me that it’s changed me for good.
Of course, you ask yourself right now, “Jonah, why don’t you get to the fucking point of the fuck?” That’s valid. I can understand your excitement. The build up has been quite the thing, hasn’t it? I mean, the previous two paragraphs were so hype filled it was as though they were releasing “Star Wars: Episode 4, A New Hope” for the first time or something. For that event which has forever affected the being of my status was the complete watching of the British television program “Spaced.”
Yes, since just a few short days ago I’ve seen all of series 1 and series 2. It’s not often I’ll give over so much of my time to a single endeavor in a 72 hour period, but it’s also not often that you see the insides of Einstein’s brains, because that is what this bit of television devilry is.
Now, at this point your saying, “Jonah, why the fuck are you being so overly melo-dramatic, fuck?” Well, it’s for effect, naturally, and I do believe that anyone who has been privy to a showing of “Spaced” would enjoy that. But you should know this, while everything is being overstated with flair, all of it should be taken with absolute seriousness. Because I am. Seriously. No, seriously. Seriously. C’mon!
See, before I watched “Spaced” I thought I knew what good television was. Certainly “The West Wing” (under Sorkin’s weary eye, the new John Wells styled TWW hasn’t proven its worth yet) is an amazing piece of television fiction. It’s not exactly the type of program that usually sells to networks. NBC should be lauded for picking it up. HBO’s recent “K Street” has one of the best endings to a series ever with some of the most compelling characters seen since the cast of “NYPD Blue” was joined by Marc Paul Gossler, who was a surprising improvement over Rick Schroeder, whom I still to this day maintain wasn’t the best choice. The ground breaking work in “Seinfeld” is an achievement in American television that should be celebrated with an official recognition of the holiday Festivus. But, as good as all those series were, they all bow in deference when approached by the carriage which holds “Spaced.”
After fourteen episodes the viewer is treated to a most powerful ending. Never, ever, in my hisorty of obsessed television viewing have I been witness to a more thoroughly satisfying ending. It was like that first orgasm you consciously experience. You know the one, where it takes you by surprise, and then you think to yourself, “Oh shit, did I make any noise? I hope I didn’t wake up the family. Christ, I better do it again to be sure I didn’t make any noise.” You know. That’s the series ending to “Spaced” in an emotional nutshell. I kid you not when I say I very really, very nearly, sobbed at the conclusion of the episode. As I sat there early Christmas morning having this emotionally erect moment I thought to myself maybe Jesus himself had come back from the way dead and presented himself to me, the resurrection in my own mansion-like home, and given me the answer to everything, but let’s be real, even that would be a let down in comparison to the final moments of “Spaced.”
It occurs to me that at this point I have to make a recommendation to American Television Programmers. See, everything you do is shit. In comparison, there’s not a filming program on American television today, yesterday, or tomorrow that holds a candle to the likes of “Coupling” or “The Office” (both programs that can be seen on BBC America. Please check local listing for times). But when one tries to compare an American program to “Spaced,” well, spank your ass and fuck a donkey, shame on you. American Television programmers need to watch more British television. I said watch, not steal. I’m not suggesting you watch some British broadcast and think to yourself, “Ohhh, I’ll buy this idea off the fucker who created it and then bastardize it in the States by taking out all the funny and hyping it like it’s the successor to ‘Friends’ to the point where the program is doomed before it even broadcasts its first episode.” No, watch some British television so they can show you how it’s done as if they were Mark Harmon teaching summer school in that movie ‘Summer School’ and got you to finally, for the first time, pass your college entrance exams. The Brits can teach you a thing or two, and they can also teach you how to make a decent television program.
Where was I? Oh yes, I was rattling on about how fucking amazingly incredible the television show “Spaced” is. I now have a new all time favorite television program. And this has given me direction and purpose. Just wait till you see what happens.
[REAL TALK NOW – Get a multi-region DVD player off eBay, purchase yourself copies of series 1 and series 2 of “Spaced” and watch the fucking show now. It will fuck you good and leave you terribly satisfied.”]
