Community - a METAphor for life
- Srinjoy Majumdar

- Jul 28, 2019
- 5 min read
Updated: Apr 18, 2021
When Community first started running, people didn't really know what to say. It was a show unlike what many had ever seen. Ardent fans of animated excellence such as the golden-age of The Simpsons and South Park, and lovers of 30 Rock and Arrested Development, had encountered something in it's ballpark. But Community was neither the same animal nor the same beast.

"A group of adorable misfits, all from different stages in life, bond over the multitude decisions and mistakes that led to their paths crossing at Greendale Community College, and develop a friendship unlike any before" - when described, the premise seems immaculate and sitcom-y enough to work out and appeal to audiences all around. What no one saw coming however, was that this was no ordinary joke show. And no, I don't mean they crutched out of the humour genre, to make a social drama about whatever issue they wanted to deal with and evolved into an Emmy-winning, thought provoking comedy. Community's gag, was that it was a sitcom, and everything about it was a sitcom, and every decision it made, was that of a sitcom's, and therein lay its true genius.
Spoofing an entire staple of modern television, Community's self-referential comedy and its quite frankly, crazy, character-driven themed episodes made for 6 unforgettable years of television, regardless of its ups and downs. No episode throughout its tenure made the mistake of trying to replicate the magic of a previous storyline, or ever fell into tropes of many a show, trying to appeal to mass media by being something it was not. From spaghetti-western parodies and countless jokes with paintball, to a Ken Burns documentary style episode about pillow and blanket forts, to a GI-Community spoof, a video game episode, midnight horror thrillers and an episode with parallel universes and multiple timelines and too many other legendary jokes to mention, Community was indeed Community, in the truest sense of whatever that means.
Carried by a now, considerably stacked cast: Joel McHale's 'Jeff Winger', the arguable protagonist of the show, a disgraced lawyer, disbarred and exiled to the lower rungs of society. Danny Pudi's 'Abed Nadir', easily the breakout character and an embodiment of Community's genius, the TV nerd who realises he lives in a TV show. Donald Glover's 'Troy Barnes', a former high school athlete and national prospect, who learns to embrace the joker in him. Alison Brie's 'Annie Edison', the group's adorable glue, a diligent and hardworking student and former pill addict. Gillian Jones' 'Britta Perry', the independent, liberal and quite often unlucky member of the group. Yvette Nicole Brown's 'Shirley Bennet', the caring, single mother of two who becomes the lovable mother of the group. Chevy Chase's 'Pierce Hawthorne', a former businessman whose old age and quite striking, racist behaviour makes him the butt of the joke to his displeasure, and a multitude of characters, featuring Ken Jeong, Jim Rash, and John Oliver to name a few. This Community, built itself a cult.

This brings me back, to my thesis - What really was Community? It can be established, that it was indeed a "sitcom", in the most ambiguous sense of the word. It can also be said that following all sitcom tropes, in an excellent sense merely to parody them, makes Community a show for not-your-average casual watcher, but rather the interpretive TV maniac, your own friendly neighbourhood Abed Nadir. Community was a show of the fans, by the fans, and for the fans. That being said, what I, as an immense Community fan believe and realise the pattern for, is that consciously or sub-consciously, Community represents the journey of life - a perfect metaphor.
When it started, people were quite frankly scared and yet curious and hopeful of its potential, as the reviews started to come through, and people mutually decided to wait it out, and see if it was an anomaly. When the episodes started to dish through and people realised that it was something else and it was here to stay, they gradually began to see its value, as the ratings went up, and the producers gave the people what they wanted to give. Audiences finally appreciated a show which knew they were potent enough to follow on. Initially, the journey was to the top, as the show learnt from what it heard and did what it was supposed to. Smooth sailing for the first 3 seasons could be likened to a new life, gaining in support for its existence as it started to thrive and succeed.

As every midlife crisis however, it hit where it hurt most and when it hurt most. Disagreements between the show-runners and the network, and a falling out of a cast-member, hit the quality of the show badly. Ratings fell, and audiences suddenly felt betrayed. It was as if everything they had loved and invested for had turned to mush. Just as society was about to accept the monster, it went ahead and ate its own arm. Season 4 turned bad, to say the least. But like I said before, Community was no ordinary sitcom.
Maybe the same animal and the same beast, would lay flailing on the ground, waiting to be cancelled by a broadcast conglomerate. But not Community. In a last ditch effort, as its survival instinct kicked in, season 5 propelled itself into the mid-tiers, carried by fans to the finish line and 'gas-leak' year was over. Maybe Community would never be the same. But at least, it would be. Life doesn't give you second chances. You have to make them for yourself, by asking your audiences to petition and protest for you to stay alive till you can make another year and find a solution, which in this case was moving to Yahoo TV.
As it came to an anticlimactic finish in season 6, fans gave it a fair share of their passion, and cried over arguably one of TV's greatest endings, 'Emotional Consequences of Broadcast Television'. Community finished (?) strong, with a sense of understanding of where it had lost its way. It understood and accepted its mistakes, and like a wise elder, it retired from the spotlight into the shadows of great, forgotten legends, like most of them do. Community wasn't about the glitz and glamour of network TV, neither was it an irony in a world full of ironies. Community was a show because it wanted to be a show.

To borrow from Abed Nadir, arguably the world's wisest human, "Chaos already dominates enough of our lives. The universe is an endless, raging sea of randomness. Our job isn't to fight it but to weather it together on the raft of life. A raft held together by those few, rare, beautiful things that we know to be predictable." - Community's unpredictability as it lasted, made it in a sense, the most predictable and cherished memory in the eyes of audiences, as we all tuned in for a few minutes in the day, to shut out the voices outside that ridiculed and threatened us, to embrace the inner nerd, and ensue in a collective sense of hopefulness.
(I assume you read this in the manner of a traditional Jeff speech.)





very nice dear
this is rllyyy well written man 👍🏼 good job