We at the Daily fear change. It takes a lot for us to latch on to new things. Until very recently, we produced the paper entirely using carved wooden blocks and roll-on ink. So it's pretty monumental when we swear allegiance to a new television series. Imagine our feelings of betrayal, then, when one of our new TV loves is abruptly cancelled. When "Arrested Development" was axed last week, we stayed in bed for three days, rising only to occasionally change our jean cut-offs. In honor of our beloved Bluths, we'd like to take this opportunity to reflect on all the other prematurely cancelled shows of our time.
"Hey Dude," on Nickelodeon from 1989 to 1991: Childhood can sometimes skew one's sense of quality (see: Tamagotchi pets, "Blossom," pre-pubescent girls' interest in Devon Sawa circa-1996). Still, we're pretty sure that "Hey Dude" was actually good. Who could forget the time the ranchers convinced Ted he'd shrunk overnight by replacing all his clothes with things that were a few sizes too big? Perhaps the show's most important contribution to pop culture was the show's presentation of the most polarizing Would You Rathers of all time: Brad or Melody?
"My So-Called Life," on ABC in 1994: Via unassuming yet astute narrator Angela Chase, "My So-Called Life" captured the pain, awkwardness, and happiness of high school life more realistically than most reality shows. The dialogue was authentic ("Seeing a teacher's actual lunch is, like, so depressing. Not to mention her bra strap."), the actors were actually the right age (we're looking at you, "Dawson's Creek"), and the issues were refreshingly humble (unrequited love, fading friendships, and fake IDs).
"The Critic," on ABC in 1994 and FOX in 1995: It's unclear why this cartoon didn't pan out. Jon Lovitz is hilarious as film critic Jay Sherman, whose job entails watching movie coming attractions and after each one declaring "It stinks!" The best of these, probably, was "Rabbi P.I.," in which Ahnold plays an undercover rabbi, killing one of his victims at a Bris by stabbing them with the scalpel. ("Hava Nagila, baby.") Even the desperation "Simpsons" cross-over episode wasn't as painful as it should have been.
"The Tick," on FOX from 1994 to 1997: This was but the first in the now standard cliche of the superhero dressed as a tick and his trusty sidekick dressed as a moth, who together battle villains named after Austrian operas (Die Fledermaus). Although reincarnated as a live-action show in 2001, it was the cartoon original that really captured our hearts and minds. What other superhero pauses to elaborate upon their platitudes, ("I don't know the meaning of the word 'surrender'! I mean, I know it, I'm not dumb... just not in this context!"), or properly spell their opponent's names ("Thrakkorzog. With a K?")?
"Teen Angel," on ABC from 1997 to 1998: Perhaps the most maligned of ABC's TGIF lineup (seriously, how could anything have been worse than "You Wish"?), "Teen Angel" was about Marty DePolo, who died after eating a six-month-old hamburger and was appointed by God's cousin Rod to be his best friend's guardian angel. The show featured surprisingly racy jokes for ABC's family night (in one episode, Marty tells his friend, "Hey, I'll visit whenever I can. I get all the Jewish holidays off," then whispers, "The boss's son is Jewish"). This one only made it through one season; apparently, shows about kids dying young are not what the TGIF creators had in mind.
"Sports Night," on ABC from 1998 to 2000: It was a sitcom without a laugh track, a widely appealing show without a target audience, a lesson in semantics without an English professor, and ultimately a show without a home as ABC cancelled it after only three seasons. The shame in the show's annulment rests in the fact that it was a legitimately well-crafted and deftly written, and now the audience will never know if Casey and Dana were meant for each other. Viewers lamenting its premature demise could eventually find solace in the fact that most of the actors (and many of the episode structures, and even some of the banter) would show up on "The West Wing," also created and written by Aaron Sorkin.
"The Sifl and Ollie Show," on MTV in 1998: A show hosted by sock puppets who sang nonsensical songs about pandas ("I'm drunk on panda mystery!") and tried to convince their audience that squirrels are responsible for 70 percent of all deaths cancelled after only one season? If that's not a self-sustaining show concept for the media hungry citizens of the "United States of Whatever," we're stumped.
"Freaks & Geeks," on ABC from 1999 to 2000: Is it just us, or are our memories from high school radically different than the images typically presented on TV? (We weren't in Southern California, pop songs weren't continuously playing in the background, and most of our friends were under the age of 30) Not so with this show, which detailed the tribulations of the kind of social outcasts we all knew (were) in a Michigan high school in the early '80s; plotlines were lifted from the creator's actual lives and much of the dialogue was improvised. It's pretty impressive that back and fourths such as "When I hit 13, I became a man," "That's only in your temple, Neil, not in the real world" were improvised.
"Clone High," on MTV from 2002 to 2003: "Clone High" was one of MTV's brilliant cartoon concept pieces: scientists take the DNA of famous figures from history, clone them into teenagers who adapt teen movie cliche to their historical personas (Gandhi has ADD, Joan of Arc is a Goth), and make all the clones go to high school together. Unfortunately, MTV's target audience of Spring Break-ers wasn't really in the market for clever visual puns, innovative guest stars (Marilyn Manson teaching the kids about the food pyramid) and witty historical references (JFK, upon the death of his BFF Ponce de Leon: "I'm a Kennedy! I'm not accustomed to tragedy!").
"Rich Girls," on MTV in 2003: Two spoiled, wealthy girls who think Benjamin Franklin invented the light bulb? MTV couldn't have asked for a more perfect pair of jaw-droppingly vapid yet loveable heiresses than Jamie Gleicher and Ally Hilfiger. The girls' natural talent for inanity, combined with the editors' deft splicing, made each episode a treat. While the show's one-season run was due to the girls' separate pursuits of post-high school endeavors, and not a low ratings axe from MTV, our glimpse into the trite and moneyed world of Jamie and Ally ended all too soon.
-- compiled by Katherine Drizos, Blair Rainsford and David Cavell
