Why do I like Glee? Well, there are the over-produced, self-indulgent musical numbers. That's certainly a big factor. But more than even the musical numbers, I think what I like about Glee is that it's actually in a weird way somewhat unpredictable. Sure, the Gleesters pair up in predictable ways and break up in even more predictable ways, they win competitions in even more annoyingly predictable ways, and they face many of the overly predictable foibles and exploits of typical (or at least TV-typical) high school kids.
And yet I like it. It's strangely appealing in a way that for a while kept me wondering (in a very un-Sopranos-or-the-Wire way), is this a "good" show? And I'm not sure that I've entirely resolved that question still, but I have experienced enough of it to know that it is a good show for me. Despite all of it's seeming predictability, Glee is a quirky, weird little show with little moments of shocking bizarreness or poignant reallifeness. Like the uncomfortableness of Sue Sylvester (hilarious Jane Lynch, a Second City alum!) blackmailing the school principal after date raping (or, as Wikipedia has just informed me, "drug-facilitated sexually assaulting") him, or the some schizophrenic (a good word for the show, perhaps) storyline between Mr. Schuester and his crazy pregnancy-faking wife, or the more-complicated-than-they-should be relationships of the various high school students that remind me of the illogical, uncertain high school existence moreso than other pretenders.
But why do I really like Glee? The list:
-The Schuester hair jokes, which are really in full effect since the show's return two weeks ago. Rachel loves these jokes, too, for the same reason that I'm a little sensitive about it -- my hair is kind of Schuester-like. Though I did find some vindication in the most recent episode in which Sue admits that she only comments on his hair (which had previously been liked to a bird's nest and lesbian hair among other things) because she is jealous of it's waviness ... and lustrousness.
-Lines like "You're about as sexy as a cabbage patch doll. It's exhausting to look at you." ... particularly when they're directed towards the endlessly flummoxed and flabby Finn, at whom it is exhausting to look.
-Unapologetic devotion to particular pop icons. Though I'm still waiting for the David Bowie episode.
-The way it makes it's seemingly unforgivable underdogs (Puck, Quinn, Schuester's wife) somehow so forgivable that you find yourself rooting for them? Was I the only one that thought Schue was overreacting about the faux-baby?
-Speaking of Schue's overreaction, the unexpected and jarring moments of legitimate pathos have got to make the list. When he finally confronts his wife about her deception, a scene not entirely unlike the Tony-and-Carmela-split-up scene in the Sopranos, there is some true pain going on there ... impressive particularly for a guy that spent most of the season fighting off the urge to jam out with a full-on white boy's overbite.
-The ability to seemingly deny that certain characters and plot points ever existed. As much as I love Needle-nosed Ned the Head, jettisoning Stanley Tobolowsky's character was probably a good idea, and the fact that they did it without a moment's worry devoted to explaining it away is refreshing.
I think that's enough for now, though you can expect to revisit this topic in the future. I've also got a lot to say about "Lost" these days but will probably hold off on that until no one remembers this ridiculously long post devoted to a middling teeny bopper show. Now it's time to reflect on the day's other, more traumatic, experience. Stay tuned.
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