The Big Bang Theory: Going Out With A Bang, Or With A Thud?
When “The Big Bang Theory” first hit, I decided to skip it. I figured we’d done that all before with Friends and Seinfeld, and I just didn’t care to follow the same story with a different cast. If I’m honest, I’ve pretty much avoided every sitcom from the year 2000 to now.
Then, as if compelled by the cosmos, I let my wife click on some random episode of TBBT many years after it began, and I was hooked. Sheldon was fun — and strangely familiar — Leonard was a bit wishy-washy but paired well with his roommate, Wolowitz was hilarious, Raj was that perfect amount of stereotype, and Penny was gorgeous with perfect comedic timing. I binged, playing catch-up one season at a time.
Not long after that, news broke that the 12th season would be the show’s last. Apparently, Jim Parsons wanted out and the producers refused to do the show without him. Good for them, I thought, and I assumed they would go out with a — ahem — Bang! And boy was I wrong.
As I write this, we’re about 21 episodes into the final season, and they are 21 of the worst episodes of the entire series. And not just mediocre, but shockingly unfunny and slow. Something has changed. It’s the same kind of confusion you’d feel if Metallica suddenly started singing country, or Kayne started sounding philosophical.
With only a handful of episodes left, I don’t expect things to change before it’s over, and that’s disappointing. But it doesn’t mean we can’t learn from our mistakes and apply the lessons below so other series don’t suffer the same end as TBBT.
Character Arcs That Fit A Script
Over the first 11 seasons, the writers do a great job evolving each of the seven main characters. Sheldon, for instance, who starts out a bit too rigid — OCD for the sake of being OCD — learns to navigate society just enough to be entertaining. He doesn’t lose his classic Sheldon antics or personality, he drops his guard just enough that we laugh.
The same goes for the rest of the crew; Penny becomes wittier, Wolowitz more charming, Amy less annoying, and Raj, well, he can talk to women. All incremental changes that seem to happen organically. When it comes to this season, however, it feels like we’ve Terminatored a decade or so into the future. Gone are most of Sheldon’s quirks, Leonards insecurity’s, and Howard’s oddness. Even Raj seems to have gone from Joey Tribbiani to Bruce Wayne overnight. And Stuart, played by Kevin Sussman, seems to have gone from comic book store owner to the landlord who rents to a guy who likes comics.
It’s not that character’s can’t change; growth is good writing. Nonsensical and off-putting writing, however, is when characters change instantaneously, just to fit the script. It feels like the writers came up with a grand ending, but needed different characters to make that ending work.
Would it really be that bad if the characters we loved over the years didn’t do anything meaningful in the end? Remember The Soprano’s finale; all they did was cut to black while the cast ate dinner. Would it really be that bad if Sheldon and crew gathered over Tai food one last time, one big family, and we ended on that?
Boring Relationship Realism
One of the reasons I despise most live-action sitcoms is because of the relationships. They’re like reality on steroids, with comic timing and studio laughter. And they’re boring.
The Bang Bang Theory, however, felt different. Sure, Leonard is a lot like Ross and Penny is Rachel reincarnated, but the big difference is that they didn’t feel selfish or stuffy. Neither felt overbearing or even confident about their places in this world. It made Leonard, a genius, likable, and Penny, a trophy, absolutely adorable. When combined in an arc meant to bring the two together, they genuinely feel like their differences make them complete. As Stuart says in “Mommy Observation,” the 18th episode of the seventh season, “I feel like you guys make each other better. Penny brought Leonard out of his shell. And it seems like Leonard makes Penny think more deeply about the world. I don’t know. Together, you two kind of make one awesome person.” Now, five seasons later, it feels like all of that cuteness and goodwill has been undone. Every Penny and Leonard joke feels likes it coming through gritted teeth, a clever attempt to veil that quiet hostility couples develop for one another once they’ve unofficially checked out of the relationship.
Amy, the exact opposite of Penny, begins similarly, a clone of Sheldon, basically uninterested in any sort of romantic entanglement. Soon enough, however, she comes around and lovably starts worshiping Sheldon. She makes friends for the first time, develops her own personality separate from Sheldon, and makes a place for herself. Then we hit the 12th season and not only does Amy stop idolizing Sheldon, she argues with everything he says. It’s like we jumped ahead a few decades where Amy has lost all patience for Sheldon’s unique blend of whimsey.
This odd relationship spiral that the writers apparently think mirrors every marriage, continues with Bernadette and Howard. What starts as two people who sincerely enjoy one another, quickly becomes stale. Like so many tired tropes before, Bernadette is an exhausted working mom, and Howard is afraid of his wife. Instead of characters who were perfectly hilarious on their own, we get a combination no one asked for, and we’re all the worse for it.
To be fair, the cast isn’t to blame, it’s the script. Why do we feel the need to turn most fiction into reality? Isn’t there plenty of reality out there without having to ruin our favorite sitcoms? Is it really too much to ask to keep the settings quirky, the plots a little outlandish, and the relationships enjoyable?
No More Uniforms
In a way, TBBT is a lot like life, a lot of days that feel like recycled versions of days we’ve lived before. When something new does happen, it rarely changes the status quote. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be watching a comedy, we’d be watching Game of Thrones.
What did set TBBT apart, however, was the angle. Not only were most of the main characters geniuses, but they were huge geeks too. Action figures and replica swords decorated the set, the main hang out was a comic book store, and the crew sat down to play Dungeons and Dragons as much as other sitcoms knuckled up to the bar. Add in a beautiful blonde who doesn’t quite get it and you have an enjoyable recipe with tons of nostalgic references. The crew dressed up as the Avengers, Sheldon and Leonard snuck onto Skywalker ranch, Wolowitz even went into space — which is about as sci-fi as it gets. And sure, sometimes it was nothing more than a cheap, interchangeable gag, but it was better than all the other unoriginal gags out there. Even as the characters matured, they continued to hang onto their roots, which is quite refreshing in a world where people seem to jump from one stolen behavior to another. Then season 10 Came along, the Wolowitz’s had a kid, and the gang decided they weren’t going to comic con. By itself, that’s no big deal, but the seed was planted.
By the time season twelve hits, sets, personalities, and even uniforms have changed drastically. Leonard’s classic hoodie has almost disappeared, Howard’s belt buckle and dickey combo have lost their zest, Bernadette doesn’t do the sweater thing, and Sheldon’s once iconic T-shirts have been replaced with boring knockoffs. And what happened to Raj? Was he impersonating a horrible dressed Indian man all these years? It’s like the writers did their best to create Raj’s delicate demeanor, only to say screw it and make him almost insufferable so we don’t care what happens to him.
Reducing Heavy Hitters
For years we watched the original fab five and things were great. Sheldon and Howard were just fine on their own, and the crew worked through one hilarious circumstance after another. Then came Bernadette and Amy and things actually got better.
The new additions added to the crew the way Robin adds to Batman, unleashing sides of lovable characters we hadn’t seen before. But over time, we stopped focusing as much on the togetherness of the core crew and started awkward B and C plots, storylines that led somewhere other than the group. Somewhere we didn’t want to go.
It’s as if Bernadette and Amy stole Sheldon and Howard’s ability to hang with the group, forcing writers to create worthless situations like this season’s Noble Prize plot. It’s not that the Noble idea isn’t a fun one, it’s that it feels political and almost bureaucratic, exchanging the trademark TBBT team charm, for something more like The Sheldon and Amy show. And when we’re not focused on Shamy, we’re either insulted with a Wolowitz throwaway scheme or bored to tears with the whole Penny and Leonard baby thing. Can’t married folks be just fine without kids? And can’t married couples that have kids hire a babysitter every once in a while?
Then there’s Anu, one of the most confusing, and pitifully written characters we could dream up. Since we’re so focused on Raj being hyper posh, why not have him finally be cool with being alone?
What once felt like a series of seven friends that loved comics, sci-fi movies, and D@D is now a series about couples having real jobs and reporting their neighbors for building without a permit. Characters who once were highlighted are now sitting the bench. Penny, for instance, great for her facial expressions and comedic timing, had one or two throwaway lines in episode nineteen. This would be fine, of course, if we exchanged her time on screen for something better, but we didn’t. We got an Amy-centric episode with two minutes of plot that pushed the story forward, and maybe one funny line. And don’t get me wrong, throw away episodes are fine as long as their entertaining. Even forgettable isn’t bad once in a while, but this was the sort of episode that made me angry I wasted my time. And here I thought that was reserved for Netflix.
Today Instagram is flooded with Big Bang sized tears, as the cast posts images of closing ceremonies and wrap parties. But back at the studio, you have to wonder what they’re working towards. Something so revolutionary we’ll forgive them for this season, or a regrettable end to a once great series? Even if the show builds to an epic sendoff, the final season will mostly be worthless. Not because the crew has thrown in the towel early or they’re out of entertaining stories to tell, but because the content has mutated to something unrecognizable. What began as just plain fun, has sadly become just plain.
