Sunday, November 15, 2009

*SPECIAL* REVIEWING SEASON 6 OF THE OFFICE... PART 1: THE GOOD

The Office Season 6, Ep. 10: "Murder"  NO FOOTNOTES
There's something of a sweepstakes- in my tortured mind, that is- to see which of the NBC Thursday night comedies will surpass the others and claim the #1 slot each week. If you had told me on Wednesday that an Office episode built around each Dunder Mifflin employee attempting a "savannah" accent would beat out a serviceable "P+R" and a downright good "Community", I doubt I would have believed you. Yet so it was, readers; the Roberts Sabermetric System for Evaulating NBC Comedies does not lie.
As I've hinted, the distinguishing feature of "Murder" was that its middle 10 minutes -dividing the episode into 3 blocs- was given over totally and raucously to irreverent play-acting. That this made for delightful, transporting TV (to wax generic like TV Guide) and, more personally, that it reminded me of last season’s "Cafe Disco" dance party, is a testament to the sheer comedic chops of the cast. The fun this time stems from a role-playing murder game the office plays called “Belles, Bourbon, and Bullets”. What elevated the Southern murder mystery another level (beyond Cafe Disco, even) was the context provided by the book-end 10 minute segments.
After a cold open that strains a little too hard for that parochial season 2 vibe (it involves Dwight updating the office on the year’s developments in martial arts), we are treated to a bit that makes clear one thing the more mature seasons of “The Office” can do very effectively- invoke relatable economic unease. Oscar, Michael, and then the whole office discover that D.M. has reported financial troubles and is rumored to be contemplating bankruptcy. The officious Jim, whose every step towards growth this season has been leg-swept by the universe (Karate Kid metaphors: 1), responds in the manner of a good manager: he keeps his composure, keeps his workers working, and generally tries to collect as much information as possible. Not only does this move injure my hopes that “The Office” will spawn a generation of managers who favor strange mnemonic devices and want desperately to be liked by their subordinates, it is largely ignored by the office.
I’m interested to see how the writers back away from this bankruptcy ledge now that they've sauntered up to it. To be honest I always find this recession-inspired talk devastatingly effective; I don’t think it’s overstating it to say that it’s the source of the show’s best drama these days. There will always be fans who take the romantic subplots more seriously than “The Office”’s office intrigue … or anything else on the show for that matter. And that's fair (if totally and hopelessly misguided). But consider the fact that every bsuiness-related plot the last 2 seasons has left permanent markings- Pam is now a salesman, Jim a co-manager, etc. Meanwhile the manic plots featuring Angela sleeping with half the office during that same period were both inconsequential and in the end without any consequences.
But perhaps it would be best for me to follow “Murder”’s cue and not take matters so seriously. God knows Michael doesn’t, for it’s around this time that he assigns everyone their character roles for the game. The accented madness leads to a number of fun beats:
- Angela as Voodoo Mama Juju, witch doctor of the Savannah swamps
- Kevin’s slow-speak = horse-kick to the head
- And Pam’s blatant Forrest Gump impression
… but I was holding off judgment until the two worlds- depressingly real and Foghorn Leghorn fantastical- collided. When they finally did in the form of Oscar, the one character who has been consigned to the lonely sidelines of straight-man (no pun) hell for much of the last 2 seasons, I for one wasn’t disappointed.
Standout Character: Oscar Martinez
Standout Moment: “I should have known. A lot of the evidence seemed to be based on puns.”- Dwight
Episode Grade: A
Special Mention: Andy and Erin’s continuing meet-cute courtship. Let’s be honest, you would have been mentioned earlier if I wasn’t in the middle of an anti-romance diatribe.

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