Friends is dead. Long live Friends. Now, can we move on?
After enduring weeks of hype, the series finally ended last week. It was the end of an era, we were told. The end of anticipating Jennifer Aniston‘s (Rachel Green) next haircut and hearing how she cries about the series ending. It’s the end of seeing how rail thin the women of the cast could get, while Matthew Perry‘s (Chandler Bing) weight wildly fluctuated in time with his substance abuse problem. It’s the end of seeing Ross (David Schwimmer) date New York’s handful of ethnic women (in the Friends world, there were two), and seeing how many women and meals the knuckleheaded Joey (Matt LeBlanc) could sleep and eat his way through. Is this the end of television as we know it? Will NBC have to close up shop? What will we watch on Thursday nights? What will we do?
Well, get a life, for one thing.
I had no intention of watching the Friends spectacle last week. I was going to dutifully record it for express viewing later. So, maybe my reaction is slightly tainted by the fact that hours before, I’d turned my ankle and scraped my knee, canceling my original plans. There I was last Thursday, an ice pack on my ankle, my knee throbbing and sore all over, watching what I hoped would turn out to be a series finale to go down in the annals of TV history. I honestly can’t imagine that any Friends fan felt that what they saw was a proper send-off to the series.
The series creators coddled fans by wrapping up the series in the blandest bow possible. Monica and Chandler not only got their baby, they got boy and girl twins. Inspired by their human windfall, Phoebe – who apparently spent more time with her friends than her husband – makes a pact with her spouse to make lots and lots of babies. Joey … well, not much is said of Joey, mainly because we know from all the Friends hype that he’s coming back next fall in his own spin-off series. And last but not least, the tortured Ross-Rachel relationship was resolved. Rachel realized that she loved the big geek and blew off her job promotion and a move to Paris to be with him. That’s what I like to see: a woman giving up something she worked hard for in order to be with a man who offers paranoid obsession as a sign of love. And did I miss the part where Ross offered to leave his job to be with Rachel?
Yeah, I’m bitter. My ankle still hurts and I’m middle-aged, which perhaps makes my tolerance for schlock even less than it used to be. This is not to say the series overall wasn’t an enjoyable bonbon, but the final episode didn’t even meet the wattage of an ordinary episode. I know it’s just the end of a television show: What do I expect? I expect a lot from a series offered up as a beacon of TV excellence.
In a Sunday New York Times article by Emily Nussbaum last week, she interviews several TV writers about spoilers. In this context, she quotes the talented Joss Whedon (Buffy the Vampire Slayer): “The death of the television surprise is the end of what he calls a ‘holy emotion.’ Surprise, he argues, ‘makes you humble. It makes you small in the world, and takes you out of your own perspective. It shows that you’re wrong, the world is bigger and more complicated than you imagined.'”
When it comes to ending a series, I expect that sublime “holy emotion” Whedon so distinctly describes. Even the less critically lauded Dawson’s Creek had a more compelling series ender, while this year’s season finale for The OC (Fox), though stitched a little too loosely, should be applauded for taking the gutsy move of suggesting that Ryan (the character that the series originally revolved around) might not return. And, in spite of all the backlash, the final episode of Seinfeld was surprising if strangely inevitable.
Maybe I’m in the minority, but I’m not looking for empty escapism to help me ignore the ugliness of the world. I’m looking for stories that plant seeds, stories that make me wonder and consider. Stories are essential for making sense of the world and ourselves. That seems like a lot to expect of a TV series, but after 10 years running, I expected something more from Friends than a half-baked “and then it was over” ending.
This article appears in May 14 • 2004.