Way to Britta it, Sony.
So if you guys don't know by now (which I assume some of you don't since you're not all fans of the show), Dan Harmon has been fired as show runner on Community, the show he created and obsessed over, making it into his exact artistic vision. He found out the same way everyone else did- from a blog post. He wasn't called ahead of time, allowed to prepare for this. He was just axed like that, from the show that he has put so much of himself into.
I am having trouble dealing with this. For me, Community hasn't been just a show to obsess over for fun. It became part of my life at a very stressful time in my life, when I was still unsure of what my thesis would be about and I was doing last minute crunching for New York Comic Con on top of that. It's not an exaggeration when I say that I had multiple mental breakdowns, including one on a train that led to me being escorted off by police. Life was falling apart for me, and with my clinical depression I began to spiral down into my insecurities.
My brother had given me the DVD set for my birthday that August, knowing that I was interested in the show from hearing him talk about it. I didn't open the DVDs until a week before NYCC, intending it to be something I could watch while I performed the tedious task of pressing pins. At some point, I believe during Environmental Science, I noticed how hard I had been laughing, and eventually I came to care deeply about the characters as well. I got partially into season two before NYCC, and after suffering a major disappointment the day after the convention, I got caught up to the last aired episode, Remedial Chaos Theory, that night.
Community continued to be there for me, as I struggled through my thesis, including restarting twice with new ideas, and wondered what I was even doing at SVA and with my life. I still don't have all of the answers to that last one, but I don't feel lost anymore. Whether Community had anything to do with that is unsure, but it did help me feel better with my loneliness. I often feel isolated from my friends, much like Abed, and to cope I put on a cheerful face to mask any pain, like Annie, and those two characters in particular gave me markers to place my feelings, something to hold onto so that I could feel less alone. When Annie gave her speech to Abed in the locker at the end of Virtual Systems Analysis, it gave me something that I had never really thought about before. Her point- that we all fear being alone and want people to like us, so in that way we are never alone- is simple and most likely something that many other people have already realized, but it taught me something, and I still try to keep that in mind as I navigate social situations.
I was preparing myself for Harmon leaving, after hearing the rumors, but kept optimistic. Even if he did leave, maybe one of the show's stronger writers would become show runner. The show would be a little different, but still feel somewhat true to Harmon's vision. Instead, two producers who have never had anything to do with Community before are being brought it. That is what upsets me the most. If they found Harmon difficult to work with, fine, but to try to make Community more accessible now is ridiculous. Community has a die hard fanbase who love it for being different. Why ruin that?
As I fell apart, and then as I slowly picked myself back up, Community was a constant source of joy in my life. More than just the half-hour it takes to watch a new episode every Thursday, there was also the amazing, creative fandom that I became a part of. They would go through episodes, looking at every little detail to understand every aspect of the characters and their relationships, as the show demanded through it's rich characterization and optimistic self-awareness. Even when the show was put on hiatus, I was energized by the enthusiasm of the fans. I felt part of something big and positive and loving, and even more so when the people involved with Community reciprocated our adoration. I don't think I've had as positive a fandom experience as I have with Community, and I owe that to the positivity of the show.
Now I am left to wonder if my show will ever be the same, if it will still make me emotional and obsessive and joyful at it simply existing. All of the actors will still be there, so that makes me feel like it will still be decent, at the very least, and I still adore this cast with all of my being. The chemistry, talent, and enthusiasm of the cast is a large reason why the show has been so successful, as they make every character feel honest and lovable, even with, or maybe especially because, of their flaws. However, it will no longer be the same show, and that makes me nervous. I can't see there being anymore of the brilliant explorations in genre and tone that Dan Harmon did, making sure that even in the most ridiculous of ideas, the characters and the friendship of the study group were never sacrificed for the sake of coolness or humor. What made Community under Harmon work so well was that it thought like its fans, typically pop culture fans themselves, but wanting to be recognized as more than just a nerd. While Community did have its simpler moments, they were done to serve the story and the characters, not to make it easier to get into. It's not a show for everyone, but for those who really, deeply love it, it's everything we could have asked for.
I am having trouble dealing with this. For me, Community hasn't been just a show to obsess over for fun. It became part of my life at a very stressful time in my life, when I was still unsure of what my thesis would be about and I was doing last minute crunching for New York Comic Con on top of that. It's not an exaggeration when I say that I had multiple mental breakdowns, including one on a train that led to me being escorted off by police. Life was falling apart for me, and with my clinical depression I began to spiral down into my insecurities.
My brother had given me the DVD set for my birthday that August, knowing that I was interested in the show from hearing him talk about it. I didn't open the DVDs until a week before NYCC, intending it to be something I could watch while I performed the tedious task of pressing pins. At some point, I believe during Environmental Science, I noticed how hard I had been laughing, and eventually I came to care deeply about the characters as well. I got partially into season two before NYCC, and after suffering a major disappointment the day after the convention, I got caught up to the last aired episode, Remedial Chaos Theory, that night.
Community continued to be there for me, as I struggled through my thesis, including restarting twice with new ideas, and wondered what I was even doing at SVA and with my life. I still don't have all of the answers to that last one, but I don't feel lost anymore. Whether Community had anything to do with that is unsure, but it did help me feel better with my loneliness. I often feel isolated from my friends, much like Abed, and to cope I put on a cheerful face to mask any pain, like Annie, and those two characters in particular gave me markers to place my feelings, something to hold onto so that I could feel less alone. When Annie gave her speech to Abed in the locker at the end of Virtual Systems Analysis, it gave me something that I had never really thought about before. Her point- that we all fear being alone and want people to like us, so in that way we are never alone- is simple and most likely something that many other people have already realized, but it taught me something, and I still try to keep that in mind as I navigate social situations.
I was preparing myself for Harmon leaving, after hearing the rumors, but kept optimistic. Even if he did leave, maybe one of the show's stronger writers would become show runner. The show would be a little different, but still feel somewhat true to Harmon's vision. Instead, two producers who have never had anything to do with Community before are being brought it. That is what upsets me the most. If they found Harmon difficult to work with, fine, but to try to make Community more accessible now is ridiculous. Community has a die hard fanbase who love it for being different. Why ruin that?
As I fell apart, and then as I slowly picked myself back up, Community was a constant source of joy in my life. More than just the half-hour it takes to watch a new episode every Thursday, there was also the amazing, creative fandom that I became a part of. They would go through episodes, looking at every little detail to understand every aspect of the characters and their relationships, as the show demanded through it's rich characterization and optimistic self-awareness. Even when the show was put on hiatus, I was energized by the enthusiasm of the fans. I felt part of something big and positive and loving, and even more so when the people involved with Community reciprocated our adoration. I don't think I've had as positive a fandom experience as I have with Community, and I owe that to the positivity of the show.
Now I am left to wonder if my show will ever be the same, if it will still make me emotional and obsessive and joyful at it simply existing. All of the actors will still be there, so that makes me feel like it will still be decent, at the very least, and I still adore this cast with all of my being. The chemistry, talent, and enthusiasm of the cast is a large reason why the show has been so successful, as they make every character feel honest and lovable, even with, or maybe especially because, of their flaws. However, it will no longer be the same show, and that makes me nervous. I can't see there being anymore of the brilliant explorations in genre and tone that Dan Harmon did, making sure that even in the most ridiculous of ideas, the characters and the friendship of the study group were never sacrificed for the sake of coolness or humor. What made Community under Harmon work so well was that it thought like its fans, typically pop culture fans themselves, but wanting to be recognized as more than just a nerd. While Community did have its simpler moments, they were done to serve the story and the characters, not to make it easier to get into. It's not a show for everyone, but for those who really, deeply love it, it's everything we could have asked for.