Jmunney's Blog

“What I do know is that the way our paths crossed, even when they were bad, all led us to this point, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

One of the unique aspects of the group of friends on Community compared to other shows is that the Greendale Seven did not just come together by circumstance.  They’re not related, they’re not colleagues, and they’re not in a band together.  True, they are classmates, but they probably would have remained nothing more if one of them hadn’t been putting together an homage to one of his favorite movies.  When Abed turned Jeff’s scheme of passing himself off as a Spanish tutor to Britta into his own Breakfast Club-style band of misfits, he was ignoring his past friendless years and taking control of his own destiny.  What others would have considered a pointless tribute has led to the most meaningful relationship of his, and all of their lives.

So to say that the study group was destined to be together, as “Heroic Origins” does, seems to take away from the credit that should go to Abed.  It is often fun when our favorite shows present glimpses of our favorite character’s pasts. With Community, a show whose characters have been so decidedly shaped by their past traumas, it is both fun and unusually meaningful.  But it is not so meaningful as to suggest that their friendship was inevitable.  But, inevitability is not the same as destiny.

Abed did not set out to prove his “destined to meet” theory right from the start.  Like discovering the receipt from the Love Hut in Shirley’s sock drawer, it was just a happy coincidence that so many of the tidbits he uncovered happened to be connected.  Since he has a robotic memory and he sees life as a movie and/or TV show, he could not help but interpret his findings as the makings of a superhero origin story.  As for the matter of this story being one of destiny, a useful comparison is Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl, who posited that the meaning of one’s life cannot really be known until one has started living.  Put another way, meaning comes from within, not without.  With that outlook in mind, Abed is right to say that the group was destined to be.  Taking stock of the community they have created and how it has changed their lives for the better, it is right to call it their destiny because it is what it is.  That does  not take away from Abed’s doings in the pilot – he created his own destiny, and in so doing gave the whole group the chance to create this destiny with each other.

The actual moments of the study group’s past interactions may have struck some as too coincidental, but life is coincidental.  Besides, Greendale may be a small enough town that it is logically possible that their paths would cross.  And they must have had some motivation in common that led them all to Greendale.  The fact that the Dean and Chang were handing out Greendale fliers at the mall lent some explanation to everyone being at the fro-yo place the same day.  Their actual interactions with each other did not ensure that they would meet again, just as surely as random interactions they had with other people did not ensure that they wouldn’t meet those people again.   Despite that lack of ensurance, they did meet each other (but not those other people) again.  Thus, Troy was given the chance to make up for never noticing geeky Annie (who proved that it’s impossible to uglify Alison Brie), Jeff was given the chance to make up for carelessly defending the stripper who went on to break up Shirley’s marriage, Abed was given the chance to make up for freaking out Shirley’s kids and ratting out Annie, etc.  They did not need to make any grand gesture to rectify these issues in this episode – they had already done so by being good friends.

As for the Chang resolution, it was not surprising.  City College Dean Spreck was on the other end of the phone, of course.  And Chang’s ultimate decision to go Greendale, though heartwarming, also was not surprising.  But Ken Jeong and Danny Pudi played it beautifully.  Abed’s incredibly straight-faced insistence that “only you know who you really are” was exactly what Chang needed to hear and a great statement of where Community itself is at this point.  Our destiny is what we are doing now, and whatever we do from here on out. A-

While I have mostly enjoyed Community Season 4, I have been consistently critical of its tendency to do too much in any give episode.  The pacing and the editing have been noticeably off compared to the first three seasons.  In “Basic Human Anatomy,” however, each subplot sprang from the same source, intersected nicely, and dovetailed for a satisfying finish.  So what does that leave me to criticize?  There is really only one major aspect of this episode that I can think of to criticize, but it is not necessarily that important, and I am coming around to thinking that there may be a way to explain it and/or that it doesn’t really matter if there’s a logical explanation.

One thing I will not be criticizing is the logic of this episode’s premise, in which Troy and Abed swap bodies in the hopes of recreating the scenario of Freaky Friday and its ilk.  I have been wary of some of the concept episodes of Community when I knew the premises ahead of time, because I worried that the homage would not be integrated in a way that made sense within the show’s universe, because the good homage episodes have been memorable because they were so good at that integration.  A body-swapping concept may at first glance seem like it would not work on a show that does not really have any sci-fi or fantasy, but that is exactly why I was not worried.  I was sure that Community‘s writing staff (led by Oscar-winning screenwriter Jim Rash on this one) would know not to have Troy and Abed actually switch bodies.  They were just committing to a bit, and they know each other so well, and they’ve logged so many hours in the Dreamatorium that they knew exactly what to do with hardly any setup.

It turns out – and there is a nice, foreboding sense of inevitability leading up to this moment – that Troy has realized he needs to break up with Britta and the best way he can think to do it is by going high concept.  Tritta has seemingly been neglected for much of this season, and while one might think that would dull the emotional impact of their breakup, it actually lent this moment an appropriate feeling of melancholy.  Considering the lack of evidence this season, Troy and Britta just have not had as many sparks since becoming official.  That lack may have seemed to indicate neglect on the part of the writers, but this episode made it feel like it was all part of a bigger plan.  Would it have been worth it to have a moment in an earlier episode of Troy expressing doubts about this relationship (maybe one of the conversations of him confiding to Abed referenced in TroyAbed and Britta’s date)?  Perhaps, but if anything, that is a knock on the season overall, not on this particular episode.  “Basic Human Anatomy,” in and of itself, gets the emotional beats so right.  Danny Pudi plays TroyAbed a little broad at first, but once on the date with Britta, he gets into Troy’s sensitive soul.  Gillian Jacobs plays the dawning realization of what is going on smoothly, and the hug at the end is so sweet.  (Too bad these kids haven’t fully realized that friendship is  a strong – perhaps the strongest – basis for a good romantic relationship.)  Donald Glover gets a chance to show off his logical side as AbedTroy, but interestingly enough, that side is what he is using to work through his most difficult emotions.  And Joel McHale, even with a sore throat, gets the chance to dispense some real wisdom – not just Jeff Winger Wisdom – by praising the value of commitment – even commitment to a stupid bit – and the importance of being a man in the biggest moments of one’s life.

Meanwhile, Annie and Shirley’s quest to uncover the truth to how Leonard has ascended to valedictorian position crisscrosses with the other body-swapping part of the episode.  Jim Rash’s commitment to his performance as JeffDean is uncanny: he captures the cadence and body language of Jeff Winger in scary fashion.  Annie’s attraction to DeanJeff was more overwhelming than I would have recommended, but it did make sense that she would be attracted to him, just as she has been attracted to similar masculine icons, like Jeff himself, Abed as Don Draper, Abed as Han Solo, and Abed as Jeff in “Virtual Systems Analysis.”  The exposure of the truth about Leonard was small-scale, and it was resolved with appropriately relative else.  Can’t argue with a subplot like that.  Pierce was little-seen in this episode, but the fact that he was able to complete their history banner project by himself in 25 minutes, tops, offered an excellent example of how working alone is often more productive than working in large groups.

The one thing that bothered me about this episode was that it was supposed to have taken place one year after “Virtual Systems Analysis,” as it was the one-year anniversary of Troy and Britta’s first date, at Señor Kevin’s as seen in “VSA.”  “VSA” did air approximately one year before “Basic Human Anatomy” (April 19, 2012, to be exact).  But because this season’s premiere was delayed, its episodes have been airing later than they are taking place.  This episode was the first one after Christmas.  But let’s also keep in mind that the second half of season 3 was delayed, so “VSA” maybe was not supposed to take place in April.  I find it hard to believe that it was taking place in January, but February seems possible.  The thing that is really hard to figure, though, is why everyone is talking about the events of last episode as though they just happened, when there must have been a jump into the next semester.  At least there is a precedent to the Greendale Seven apparently taking two-semester classes each year (without ever specifically indicating that is what they are).  Also, whatever happened to Jeff trying to graduate a semester early?  Did he just decide to not do that anymore and forget to tell the audience?  I guess that will be dealt with in the last two episodes.

With characters getting into other characters, and the callbacks to Troy and Britta’s beginnings and Señor Kevin’s, “Basic Human Anatomy” worked as a sequel to “Virtual Systems Analysis.”  It did not reach the level of that classic, but I will say that I did not love “VSA” as much as I love it now the first time I watched it, so maybe I will similarly warm up to “Anatomy” eventually.

The tag was great, a classic fake-out routine.  At first, I was disappointed, thinking, “Outtakes?  I want a real tag!”  Then it turned out to be a real tag with pretend outtakes, and it was glorious. A-

Those first two minutes were something else, huh?  Community has always had a more cinematic feel than most shows on TV, not just in terms of all the films it has made homages to, but also in terms of the way it is shot and the detail of the set design.  So, as the camera darted back and forth from Jeff’s living room to his door, it was surprising that it had taken this long for the show to have a long unbroken shot like that one.  The only bad thing about it was that it did not last any longer than two minutes.  There was another one soon after that also lasted about two minutes, but then that technique just stopped for the rest of the episode.  Sure, that was disappointing, but that was only in comparison to how awesome it was while it was happening.  Besides, they were doing different things the rest of the episode that would not have necessarily worked with a long unbroken shot.  But it would have been nice if it could have lasted the whole first act, or at least until the opening credits.  That is how all of “Intro to Knots” ultimately went down: a lot of promise that was met a little, making the whole episode disappointing, but only insofar as it could have been even more awesome.

With the entirety of the episode taking place in Jeff’s apartment in real time, the entire study group (minus Pierce, unfortunately, but plus Chang, oddly, though somewhat fortunately) is in close proximity, a formula for everything to beautifully bump into each other.  Combine that with the Hitchcockian plot – which references in particular the real-time murder mystery Rope – in which Professor Cornwallis is tied to a chair so that the study group will have him at their mercy to force him to bump up their group paper to a more favorable grade, and this is quite a simmering cauldron of angst.  It has been disappointing that Cornwallis has been more heard than seen this season, but Malcolm McDowell made the most out of finally getting significant screen time, offering up the best ass-kissing removal tell-off I have seen in a while.  (Even though, oddly enough, there was still some showing when there could have been telling, such as when Annie tells Jeff that Cornwallis just told her to get her “fit bum” into the kitchen to refill his drink, instead of actually pointing the camera on him being the cad that he has been established by everyone else as.)  Cornwallis promises an A to whoever unties him, but an F to everyone else, and then proceeds to pick at the scabs of the group dynamic, and he also manages to act as a voice of a typical Community fan within the show, speaking to several of the common criticisms of Season 4.  He sniffs out trouble in the Tritta romance and posits that there is a triangle with them and Jeff, and he demands to know why everyone puts up with “that idiot,” i.e., Chang.  He even manages to bring to light a previously latent tension – the Annie-Shirley valedictorian rivalry – that should affect the group dynamic in an entertaining fashion in the future.

Cornwallis is ultimately unable to get anyone to break, because despite their problems, they really are united and their friendship is so strong and all that good stuff.  The Winger speech hits on forgiveness and loyalty, and it isn’t his best, but it does the trick.  So Cornwallis acquiesces because his daughter never visits him, and being at the gang’s Christmas party actually kept him away from working on his suicide note.  And this revelation kind of lands with a thud.  Perhaps it is logical enough to explain his behavior, and it fits with the Greendale ethos of the entire series of accepting lonely people.  But since Cornwallis is not that significant a character, it is hard for a secret of his to bring much heft to the proceedings.  And then this episode just ends.  That lacking ending doesn’t take away from the tension of the rest of the episode, but it sure doesn’t live up to it, either.

Of course, the Jeff-Annie business of this episode must also be touched upon, thanks in no small part to Ms. Edison so assuredly swooping in and putting her stamp all over Mr. Winger’s place.  She is also aggressive by showing up with gifts after they had all agreed against that (although everyone else brought gifts as well – I imagine Jeff insisted on no gifts and then they together decided to ignore him).  It all seems like another example of Annie wanting to play house with Jeff (which apparently bothers some people), and while there is certainly part of that to it, her main point of the night seems to be teaching Jeff that “the obligation [of gift-giving] is the gift.”  While her phrasing may sound bizarre, she actually raises an interesting point: the bonds formed by being indebted to others and others being indebted to you can be quite rewarding.  Then there is the tag, which seems designed to enrage just about every segment of the Community fandom: shippers, anti-shippers, and those who think the Darkest Timeline should be left well enough alone.  I basically agree with the sentiment that the Darkest Timeline has no place outside of “Remedial Chaos Theory,” but if its placement in the tag is, as I suspect, an indicator that it won’t affect what is really going on, then I will be happy to see the occasional riff on the evil versions of these characters.  And while I would actually like to see Jeff and Annie together in the Prime Timeline, I am not sure I want the official version to be as carelessly passionate as on display here.  But that does not mean it wasn’t a hell of a lot of fun to see that kiss, and that hair, and to hear Jeff say that he actually wishes Annie were younger. B+

When I heard that Community was doing a puppet episode, it did not seem like it was going to be like other theme episodes, i.e., a full-on pastiche of a particular film, or genre, or trope.  It seemed like they were just doing it for the hell of it.  In the past, I would have been disappointed by just-for-the-hell-of-it reasoning, but at this point, I am confident enough in the cast and the show’s structure that I think any wild concept on Community will at least be interesting.  But it turned out that the promotion had actually been a little secretive, and this episode was actually a full-on homage of the greatest puppet act of all time, the Muppets.  But even though “Felt Surrogacy” was just as committed as past homage episodes, it was right to think of it as different than those past iterations.  The Muppets and Community do share a similar tone: positive, but with a melancholic streak.  But seeing Community go Muppets-style, it’s striking just how different they really are.  The Muppets are so much more earnest.  Community is earnest as well, but the Muppets might be the most earnest group of entertainers ever.  The Muppets are referential, and of course Community is, too, but the Muppets’ references are more oblique, and more decorative as opposed to integral to the plot.

Just as the Community creative team committed to the Muppet style, so too were the Greendale Seven attempting to break out of their routine.  With this whole season assuming the theme of history, it has been fascinating to see the gang confront their own personal history.  The study group bingo was a clever method for demonstrating how well these people know each other and commenting on how TV shows in general have a tendency to fall into easy patterns in their later seasons.  So, in the spirit of mixing up their routine, and in the spirit of the Muppets, the gang’s balloon adventure captured several hallmarks of Muppet adventures.  There was the hyped-up celebrity appearance (Jason Alexander) that turned out to be not much more than a cameo.  There was the other celebrity appearance that we didn’t know we needed – Sara Bareilles, setting the right musical tone.  And there was the joke – where’s Professor Duncan been? – snuck into the most high-pressure of moments.  And, of course, the songs – bouncy, catchy, describing everything that’s going on with a bounding joy.  They were almost transcendent (“could we fly to heaven?”).  When too much cultural referencing threatened to sneak in – Abed noting the similarities to Lost – it was promptly shot down.

The best Community episodes are marked by risk-taking.  The Muppet homage was certainly a risk, but any homage is basically expected of Community at this point.  But there are the other classic risks beyond the homages – the big emotional revelations.  The best secrets to reveal are those that are perfectly in line with who the characters are but that still have the power to change everything.  Shirley’s lingering doubts about herself as a mother and a wife and Jeff’s regret about the one that got away tied up with his daddy issues both had this impact.  Some of the other confessions were softer, though amusing.  Troy starting the Greendale fire of 2003 was a little shocking, but he would have only been 13 or 14 and I imagine it might not have been as much his fault as he believes.  Britta only ever voting for The Voice more or less confirmed what people already think of her.  Abed has no secrets, but it was satisfying to hear him confirm that he mirrors the expressions of those around him.  [EDIT: I forgot to initially include the end of this paragraph when initially posting.]  On the subject of revelations, Britta and Jeff teasing each other about their lovemaking behavior was also chuckle-worthy, and I always appreciate it when characters are that open when talking about sex.  The reactions of Annie’s intrigue, Shirley’s disgust, and Troy’s confirmation were also worthwhile.

Risk is the best word for Annie’s confession, which was a bit problematic.  “Intro to Felt Surrogacy” is the first episode getting an A from me in which I had a significant problem with something.  It is not that I thought that past A-caliber  episodes were perfect; there may have been a few imperfections, but harping on them would have been nitpicking.  Harping on Annie’s confession about letting Professor Cornwallis rub her feet to give her answers to a test is not nitpicking.  Like a good secret, it was shocking, but unlike a good secret, it did not sound like the person who was revealing it.  There were parts of Annie to that confession, but overall it did not feel right.  She does have a history of being overwhelmed by school that did lead to desperate measures (an Adderall addiction).  And she has used her budding sexuality to her advantage before, but for cheating on a test?  Maybe if it had been set up in some way earlier in the season, it might have been more palatable.  But I always prefer when my favorite shows err on the side of ambition and risk-taking.  Making Annie go this far is a huge risk.  I am interested to see what it leads to, and I am hoping that it can be resolved in an intriguing fashion.  But because it is presently problematic, I will give this episode a conditional A, a sort of A-/A.

One last thing: the show has been struggling with a shrunken budget this season.  The opening shot of the second act right after the first commercial break of the balloon in flight made me wonder if the budget was higher for this episode.  It was the most beautiful shot of Season 4 thus far.

I was a little concerned going into “Herstory of Dance,” not so much for the episode itself as much as how it would fit into the season.  We’re more than halfway through Season 4, and it doesn’t feel like much BIG has happened yet.  Some characters have important arcs they need to get through, and this could be the last season.  Britta protesting the Sadie Hawkins dance with her own dance didn’t sound like the type of synopsis that would resolve the lack of bigness.  But “Herstory” actually managed to move some of the big Season 4 arcs nicely along, as well as being a plenty enjoyable episode in and of itself.

Since it was introduced last season, the verb “to Britta” (“to make a small mistake”) has entered my regular vernacular. But it is a catchphrase that I’ve worried could be overused. Ever since Britta has known what it means, it just isn’t as sharp as it once was. Giving her a chance to reclaim “Britta’ing it” gave it fresh value. The fact that she actually succeeded – with a little help from Pierce (hey, remember just a few episodes ago when everyone was complaining how awful he was?) – made this perhaps her best episode ever. And she really deserved that moment of triumph. Confusing Susan B. Anthony with Sophie B. Hawkins was hilarious, especially considering Britta’s cat, but it’s not like it was that big a deal. As Pierce pointed out, Jeff really was being too hard on her. She has gone from the most worldly of the group to usually nothing more than the butt monkey. She deserved some dignity for standing up for herself and committing to the bit.

Abed also showed character growth this episode, growth that’s been percolating all season, particularly in “History 101” (accepting change) and “Conventions of Space and Time” (realizing he has people who care for him). In “Herstory,” he learned that while growth is valuable, he shouldn’t abandon his well-worn tropes if there’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity right under his nose. It helped that one of those opportunities, coat check girl Rachel, was played by the very cute Brie Larson, who looked very different than the last time I saw her, in 21 Jump St.. (Bonus points to the second check coat girl being played by Annie Mebane, the cutest Community writer on staff – and I’m not just saying that because she shares a name with the cutest Community character.) Sometimes people are lucky enough to meet someone who is absolutely perfect for them. Abed has had intriguing romantic prospects before – the girl who asked him out at the end of “Physical Education,” Special Agent Vohlers, Hilda – but none of them were quite so in tune with Abed as Rachel was. And I could tell that she was so perfect by how similar their shenanigans together were to those of Abed and Troy. Abed eventually realized how perfect this pairing was, and Shirley and Annie knew it, too. There was a danger of making Rachel too unbelievably quirky, but that was thankfully avoided, and this was made clear by the contrast to Kat (the girl Annie chose for Abed) the quirkiest girl ever. It simply will not stand if Brie Larson is not signed up for future episodes.

As for what was going on in the background of this episode, it felt like Donald Glover was given free rein to improvise, generally a good thing. For those of you wondering if he and Britta are indeed still a thing, keep in mind that he was helping her plan and run the dance. Changnesia still makes no sense, but damn if Ken Jeong didn’t somehow make the forgetful DJ shtick work. And Jeff’s reactions to the Dean touching are still gold.

“Herstory” was not my favorite of Season 4, but it was the one with the least badness (except for the lack of a tag – seriously, what was that about? [luckily, it’s online]). It made me the most confident I’ve been all season about the show’s future. The current crew seems to have finally gotten a handle on these characters and the pacing back in place just so. I’m perfectly pleased with this effort; I’m giving it a B+ now, but I can see myself thinking about it some more and bumping it to an A-. B+

“Magnitude, you’re not to say ‘pop pop’ ever again.”

One criticism that people (including myself a few times) have been making about Community Season 4 is how overly busy the episodes have been. “Economics of Marine Biology” was among the busiest, but that wasn’t really a problem, as most of the plot sprang from the same point. Only Troy and Shirley’s storyline stood out as its own thing, but it was small-scale enough for its relatively little screen time to not cause it to suffer.

The only significant problem with the a-plot was that the “whale” (a rich potential student with plenty of money to spend freely while at Greendale) that the Dean was after didn’t make much of an impression. In fact, I had to look up his name (Archie), even after watching the episode twice. His description started out promisingly enough: SAT score of “0,” “high lack of ambition.” But he ended up not having much of a personality beyond “entitled” and “likes snowboarding.” And he didn’t provide much of a conflict either, as he didn’t require much convincing when the Dean insisted that he accommodate himself to Greendale. Luckily, though, this storyline did not hinge on Archie as much as the Dean and Annie’s reactions to him. While I was happy to see Annie actually have something significant to do, I would have liked if she had actually been given more to say, though her expressions were great, particularly when she and the Dean made pleading faces to Jeff (who couldn’t bear them for various reasons) and when she had to whisk Magnitude away. Speaking of Magnitude, it was brilliant that Archie stealing his catchphrase was the point at which things had gotten out of hand, and it was a great way to keep “Pop! Pop!” relevant.

The Delta Cubes business was amusing enough and certainly felt like something Abed would do. Actually, it felt like something Season 1 Abed would do, specifically, something he would do in “The Art of Discourse,” when he was trying to experience everything that movies told him were essential aspects of college. Maybe he just didn’t get a chance to pull a frat vs. dean stunt freshman year, and he jumped at the opportunity when it happened to arrive.

I have been hearing a lot that this season feels like Season 1 for some viewers, and that can be seen with Troy and Shirley’s Physical Education Education (P.E.E.) subplot, in that it focused on a class that doesn’t necessarily have much bearing on a season-long storyline. It managed to make Chang useful AND funny, with an inspired montage of Shirley teaching Troy to teach Chang. The golf swing sequence was the quite the sight gag. “I was supposed to teach you two to teach others, but instead, you ended up teaching me” was a nicely ridiculous tweaking of the often cliché story of teachers and students inspiring each other.

For those of you who have been getting worked up about Pierce reverting to a racist monster, this episode shows that it is best not to overreact to any one particular episode. And we have got to just keep praising Joel McHale. Jeff’s reaction to Pierce telling him that he’s proud of him for standing up to his father was reminiscent of the talk the two had in “The Politics of Human Sexuality.” But this time, Jeff saw no reason to say, “I was waiting for that to become inappropriate or racist.” His chiding to Annie and the Dean to not “talk about Pierce like that” conveyed in one sentence how much Jeff has matured. Annie’s expression of not being quite sure how to react was also telling. If Season 5 happens, I’m really going to miss Pierce. B+

“Why can’t you ever make a documentary about the thing you plan to make a documentary about?”

The subjects of Abed Nadir’s documentaries – his relationship with his parents in “Introduction to Film,” Pierce’s hospital stay in “Intermediate Documentary Filmmaking,” and the shooting of Greendale’s commercial in “Documentary Filmmaking: Redux” – have never been fully clear until the end of each episode.  In the advanced stage of Abed’s documentaries, with the seemingly nonsensical “Changnesia” as the nominal subject, that uncertainty seems to be the whole point.  Abed gives the first indication of this, when Jeff declaring his plan leads him to note his film just took a completely unexpected turn à la Capturing the Friedmans.  Then there’s the moment when he opts to show himself reacting to overly intense footage instead of the footage itself – a reference to Grizzly Man, a documentary by Werner Herzog based on somebody else’s footage.  Overall, this episode was giving me an Exit Through the Gift Shop vibe – as in, whose documentary was this really?  More on that later…

For now, the funny: Ken Jeong was the best he’s been in a good long while.  His attempt at re-learning How to Wear a Hat was delightful, and his word-for-word repetition of the conversation Jeff and Shirley had in front of him was a comedic tour de force.  Annie and Troy’s detective partner routine was also satisfactory, with Troy really committing to doing the opposite of everything Annie did.  Sighing and then turning his head the opposite way that Annie turned hers while sighing was a prime example of this gag.

The real meat of this episode was once again a dramatic breakthrough for Jeff, and bizarrely enough this moment came via his relationship with Chang, or Kevin … Chang.  Jeff has momentarily become a pariah because of his skepticism about the legitimacy of a man who attempted to destroy the school and kill him and his friends, which bizarrely nobody else seems to care about.  I never bought that “Kevin” might actually be suffering from Changnesia, and I don’t think Jeff did either, but he and I were both led into thinking that he might be pretending for the sake of being granted a second chance.  It was positively touching that Jeff was able to marry his (reasonable) skepticism with forgiveness.

But then that tag happened, and it seemed crystal clear that Chang was not really trying to make a fresh start.  I am generally of the mind that a bad ending does not necessarily undercut all the good that came before it.  The ending isn’t the whole thing – the journey does not depend on its destination to be meaningful.  But this particular ending must have been planned from the beginning, so it is not unfair to say that it throws everything that came before it in a new light.  So Chang’s appeal for a fresh start wasn’t genuine, and he fooled everyone.  But in a weird way, I actually think this reveal made this episode’s meaning even more profound.  Yes, everyone was fooled, but the fact that they allowed themselves to be fooled in this situation proved just how kindhearted they really are.  As for what this tag bodes for the future, I understand that people are wary of another Chang takes down Greendale arc, and I’m not excited about it either.  But let’s see this play out.  Maybe Chang will be affected by how he’s been embraced by those who have every reason to hate him.  Maybe it wasn’t actually City College on the other end of the phone.  It probably was, but my point is, let’s see what this is all about before throwing up our hands. A-