1748: Have You Met Ted?

Page_1Finally watched the end of How I Met Your Mother tonight — I’d managed to remain completely unspoiled on exactly what happens in the final two episodes, although I knew that quite a few people were a bit cheesed off about it when it originally aired.

How do I feel? Well, I don’t necessarily feel that it was a bad ending as such, but it did feel like it was somewhat rushed.

Spoilers ahead, obviously.

As Ted’s kids point out in the final moments of the final episode, Ted’s ten-year long story about how he met their mother actually wasn’t about how he met their mother at all: instead, it was about all the other things that happened over the course of his life — events that happened to culminate in him meeting their mother Tracy, having children with her, marrying her and eventually having to say goodbye to her as illness took her from him and the world. (This latter aspect was glossed over disappointingly quickly; there was the potential for some gratuitous but nonetheless effective tearjerking here, and the show blew it somewhat — though in the process it only proved Ted’s kids’ point that the story really wasn’t about Tracy at all.)

In particular, it was a show about relationships. Not just the extremely rocky Ross and Rachel-style “will they, won’t they” nature of the relationship between Ted and Robin — which ultimately reached a somewhat hasty resolution in the very last moments of the last episode, but which nonetheless provided some closure on the overall story — but also the dynamics between the various elements of the whole group.

Marshall and Lily are presented as the most grounded members of the group; they’re already in a relationship when the show begins, and the other characters clearly look up to them as some sort of “gold standard” of what to strive for when seeking a successful relationship with another person. They’re far from perfect, though; they fight, they’re often unreasonable with one another and, in the last couple of seasons in particular, they keep things of such magnitude from one another that it puts the very foundation of their marriage at risk. They always manage to come through, though; ultimately, their role is to provide the stable basis for the rather more chaotic other members of the group.

Barney and Robin’s relationship was an interesting case. Barney falling in love with and eventually wanting to marry Robin was an abrupt about-face for the character, but it demonstrated a certain degree of personal growth on his part, and it was fun to see him struggling between his old life and his new, one-woman future as the final series depicted the last few hours before their wedding day. While their subsequent breakup and divorce in the final episodes acknowledged the fact that even the most fairy-tale of relationships don’t always last even a couple of years — believe me, I know that all too well from firsthand experience — it was a tad disappointing for this aspect, again, to be glossed over somewhat hastily.

As for Ted and Robin, the tension over whether or not they’d ever end up together formed the backbone of the show to a certain degree. While it all being wrapped up neatly with them coming together in the final moments — and, presumably, living happily ever after — was predictable and, to a certain degree, satisfying, I can’t help but find myself wishing that things had gone just a little bit differently.

The ending, I feel, would have been a lot more effective had we seen more of Tracy’s final moments. It’s abundantly clear that, although Ted loved Robin, he genuinely loved Tracy too, and even though she wasn’t directly involved in much of the overall story until towards the end — the fact his kids point out — the show generally did a good job of teasing a few tantalising pieces of information about her as it progressed — the yellow umbrella; the fact she was always out of sight for the longest time; the fact we never found out her name until the final episode. The show did a great job of building up their relationship, of making the audience feel that everything that had come before had somehow led Ted to this moment — Destiny, Fate, whatever you want to call it — and then squandered it somewhat with a throwaway comment about her getting sick, and Ted ending up with Robin.

I’m a sucker for a bittersweet, borderline tragic ending, but I feel it would have made a fitting end to the series; although ostensibly a “sitcom”, the show had more than its fair share of genuinely heartfelt, emotional moments, and the passing of Tracy at the end of the final episode would have proven a fitting finale — and perhaps a way of bringing “the gang” all back together in shared grief after they all go their separate ways following Robin and Barney’s doomed wedding.

Still, I didn’t write the show so it can’t be changed, and overall, despite my criticisms above, I enjoyed the whole thing pretty consistently. It’s definitely one of the strongest American comedies that has been on TV in the last few years; while I’m not sure it’ll ever quite occupy the same place in my heart as Friends does, I’m certainly glad I watched it, and I’m glad it managed to come to conclusion, even if it wasn’t quite the one I would have gone for. It’s just a pity the two-part last episode felt so utterly rushed; while it’s not enough to spoil my memories of the show as a whole, I can understand why some people felt it was a letdown.

Onwards, though; I guess now it’s time to find a new show to watch!

1421: APPLAUSE

One of the things I find quite interesting when watching my favourite comedy shows from over the years — something I like to do over dinner, or when I just want to switch off my brain and zone out for a bit — is how the role of the “audience” has evolved. Specifically, how we’ve gone from prominent canned laughter, applause and other reactions to, in many cases, the complete opposite — the total absence of audience noise.

I say this because it took me nearly eight seasons of How I Met Your Mother to notice that that show has a laugh track in the background, albeit a very quiet one. It’s nowhere near as pronounced as in, say, Friends, which, in turn, was less pronounced than shows that were very proud of the fact that they were filmed in front of a live studio audience such as The Cosby Show. (I’m probably dating myself somewhat there, but eh. Whatever. The Cosby Show gave us the word “zurbit” to describe the act of blowing a raspberry on someone’s stomach, so it clearly had an important impact on culture at large.)

I remember back when I still lived at home and we started to get the first wave of new comedy shows that didn’t have laugh tracks in the background. They were often described as “comedy dramas” rather than sitcoms, and initially they made somewhat uncomfortable viewing because it was never quite obvious whether or not you were “supposed” to be laughing. I remember the first time I saw Spaced on TV, for example; it may be one of my favourite shows of all time now, but when it was first on TV and there was no easily recognisable prompt that you should laugh here, here and here, it was a little confusing.

This may sound strange to those of you reading this who have never known anything but shows without an audience track in the background, but it’s true. Nowadays, I’ve adjusted to the norm of there not being a laugh track — so much so that it’s jarring when you do notice it in shows like How I Met Your Mother.

That said, while the absence of a “live” audience has worked well for sitcoms and “comedy dramas,” it doesn’t work universally well. Game shows that unfold without a live studio audience are a curiously lifeless experience, for example, as anyone who has ever watched Eggheads or Only Connect will tell you. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the format of either of these shows (though the combination of smarmy presenter and the titular “eggheads” on Eggheads infuriates me beyond belief) — they just feel a bit “wrong” without, say, applause at the end of a round, or people laughing when someone cracks a joke.

I remember for a while some video games experimented with having a laugh track. The strangest one I remember was the N64 version of Mystical Ninja Starring Goemon, which was extremely Japanese and rather poorly translated, which meant the moments when the canned laughter kicked in were often… bizarre, to say the least. (Still, it was a great game; I recall enjoying it more than Zelda at the time.) It’s not something that ever really took off, though, and now that laugh tracks are the exception rather than the rule in other forms of media, it’s something I don’t really see games going back to any time soon — unless they’re specifically trying to capture the feeling of ’80s or early ’90s sitcoms.

Anyway. I didn’t really have a point to make with all this. I just thought it was mildly interesting.