As a consequence of the Black Lives Matter protests, the discussion over representation and diversity in pop culture has become especially heated in recent months. Episodes of beloved television shows, sometimes shows in their entirety, are being removed from streaming platforms for perceived infractions of the current code of heightened racial sensitivity. Characters in cartoons are being recast because the skin colour of the voice actor does not match that of the person they were portraying.
The invasiveness of these actions has been criticised, even from some who align themselves with Black Lives Matter, as another example of politically correct overreach. The result of this has been a poisoning of the well for any productive discussion of the issues involved. Instead of arguing over whether political correctness is a good or bad thing, perhaps a better question is whether it has ever been achieved in art in a widely accepted way, embodying the positive intentions from which the concept sprung rather than the authoritarian culture with which it has become interlinked. To that end, I present a show which is a prime example of how to turn a political correct ethos into great TV, albeit one which has regrettably had one of its most celebrated episodes scrubbed: Community.
With a concept as conveniently nebulous as political correctness, there is plenty of room for disagreement over whether elements have been cherry-picked to suit my argument. The aspects of political correctness I am considering here are the values I perceive to be at the core of the debate: racial representation and acceptance of minority groups. There are undoubtedly other facets which are important to different interpretations of the term, but those are the two I see most uniformly raised in such debates.
Dan Harmon's Community ran for six years, initially on NBC but revived for a final year on Yahoo's ill-fated streaming service, under perpetual threat of cancellation but with a small and dedicated viewership. As pictured in the article's header image, the main cast is racially diverse and the writing not only leans into the titular community college being a place where misfits are accepted, but much of its humour is based on an ethos of deconstructive postmodernism. Abed, played by Danny Pudi, is an obsessive fan of screen culture and uses its tropes to interpret events happening around him, allowing the show to frequently self-reference and base its humour on viewers' knowledge not only of wider pop culture motifs, but the ways in which Community reflects and refracts them.
Community is not only diverse in its casting, but makes the race of its characters part of who they are. While this is where many would argue that politically correct shows go wrong, cack-handedly forcing left-wing values into the script as a 'learning moment' for viewers, Community does not present these issues as part of a Very Important Discussion, but an integral part of its comedic conflict.
The show has its cake and eats it. Pierce, played by Chevy Chase, is depicted as a self-obsessed baby
boomer whose offhanded insensitivity frequently offend the black study
group members, Troy (Donald Glover) and Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown), who call him out on it. His sometimes oblivious racism is the source of the character's taboo-pushing humour while also being condemned by those around him. Importantly, that condemnation is just another dimension of the joke. The show obviously does not approve of the way Pierce behaves, but is sufficiently nuanced to appreciate that there is great comedic potential and relief not only in characters who say appalling things, but also in how more outwardly sensitive characters react to them.
The 'racist old man' is a stock character, but presented in lesser
sitcoms as someone loveably out-of-touch. By heightening Pierce's
attitudes to such an outsize extent, the show manages to get bigger
shock laughs while also not shying away from or diminishing the effect
racism can have on people, as 'cuddlier' versions of the character tend
to do. In hardening rather than softening his views, viewers are invited
to laugh at him and the reactions he gets from others, while
simultaneously being forced to reckon with the nature of offensive
humour in a way that softened versions of the character type allow to be overlooked.
Despite often being presented as a villain for his insensitivity, particularly towards the end of the second season, Pierce is not treated as a monster, nor are those offended by him faultless victims. All the characters are recognisably human in their flaws, which means the character's disapproval of Pierce's views rarely comes across as self-righteous, but rather an embrace of the comedic potential of human interaction and friendship, in all its awkward complexity. The show draws on the race of its minority characters (Shirley, Troy, Abed and Chang) as part of their characterisation but humanises them in the same way as its white characters, rather than falling into the trap of making them morally superior.
One of Pierce's most vocal critics, Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown) is a devout Baptist who espouses motherly love and kindness but has a dismissive attitude towards those of different religious views, like Annie (Alison Brie), who is Jewish, at the same time as condemning Pierce for his intolerance. Troy and Abed embody childhood innocence but their willful immaturity leads to them ignoring the consequences of their behaviour on others. Chang, the Spanish teacher-turned-security-guard, is simply a wildly unstable lunatic. Their flaws make them as deep and complex as the caucasian characters (well, maybe apart from Britta) and makes their pushing back against Pierce enjoyable and satisfying, because they are likeable as individuals rather than empty mouthpieces for the writer's values.
One of Pierce's most vocal critics, Shirley (Yvette Nicole Brown) is a devout Baptist who espouses motherly love and kindness but has a dismissive attitude towards those of different religious views, like Annie (Alison Brie), who is Jewish, at the same time as condemning Pierce for his intolerance. Troy and Abed embody childhood innocence but their willful immaturity leads to them ignoring the consequences of their behaviour on others. Chang, the Spanish teacher-turned-security-guard, is simply a wildly unstable lunatic. Their flaws make them as deep and complex as the caucasian characters (well, maybe apart from Britta) and makes their pushing back against Pierce enjoyable and satisfying, because they are likeable as individuals rather than empty mouthpieces for the writer's values.
Though the group frequently argues and breaks up, they always end up coming back together because they value each other as friends, no matter how much they annoy each other. Community celebrates its characters' identities not by protecting them, but making them integral parts of the humour and life of the series. 'Pansexual imp' Dean Pelton (Jim Rash) might have his love of elaborate costumes, obsession with lead character, Jeff (Joel McHale), and dalmatian fetish played for laughs, but they are laughs which invite viewers to appreciate him for his eccentricity. Like Malcolm In The Middle, another show whose absurdist humour is driven by seamlessly integrated values of acceptance and diversity, Community's political correctness welcomes viewers in rather than lecturing them from on high.
As Abed says in the show's final episode: "It has to be joyful, effortless, fun. TV defeats its own purpose when it's pushing an agenda, or trying to defeat other TV, or being proud or ashamed of itself for existing." Key to Community's success is how its politically correct views are expressed through a sincere humanist appreciation for the importance and challenges of maintaining friendship with people who are different from you not just in race, but religion, sexuality, social background and outlook. People can be needy and annoying and offensive, but the willingness to see the good in each other and stay friends, improving as best we can along the way, is in the truest sense what makes up a community.
As Abed says in the show's final episode: "It has to be joyful, effortless, fun. TV defeats its own purpose when it's pushing an agenda, or trying to defeat other TV, or being proud or ashamed of itself for existing." Key to Community's success is how its politically correct views are expressed through a sincere humanist appreciation for the importance and challenges of maintaining friendship with people who are different from you not just in race, but religion, sexuality, social background and outlook. People can be needy and annoying and offensive, but the willingness to see the good in each other and stay friends, improving as best we can along the way, is in the truest sense what makes up a community.
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