Dedicated to Joe Goltz, as I never would have seen this series if not for him.
Two years ago, I wrote an entry entitled "WHEN TV ECLIPSES THE MOVIES," during which I gave a tribute to "Lost" after its series finale. This entry is sort of a follow-up to that piece.
"FREAKS AND GEEKS" (1999/2000)
Created by Paul Feig
Executive Producer Judd Apatow
Executive Producer Judd Apatow
As I look backwards in my life, I think the year 1980 was the one that truly began my life as a geek. Dear readers, I assure you that I did not mean that term as any sort of defeatist, self-lacerating insult. I mean it as a term filled with acceptance.
In January 1980, I had turned 11 years old and was then spending an idyllic 5th grade year in the peerless Mr. John Wilson's upstairs classroom where learning was a joy, days were filled with cherished friends and everything was complimented with enthusiastic games of "knock hockey" (essentially air hockey on a wooden board), group comedy skits, and music that occasionally blared from the classroom turntable. That year also marked the time where the pursuits of childhood were beginning to divide themselves into the ones I would soon grow out of and the ones that would strengthen and become lifelong obsessions.
It was the year where I was still engaged with a collection of hand-held electronic sports games of football, basketball and baseball (courtesy of Mattel) as well as the color-coded, musical memory game of Simon. I eagerly awaited Saturday morning cartoons which led to spirited classroom debates with friends concerning the validity or stupidity of the then newly introduced "Scrappy-Doo" character and his cries of "Puppy Power!!" on "Scooby-Doo." My friends and I excitedly traded "Star Wars" trading cards as we all anxiously awaited the theatrical arrival of "The Empire Strikes Back," which I saw on Memorial Day weekend while nursing horrible seasonal allergies, which allowed me to breathe properly only through one nostril. And yet, over time, electronic games and cartoons would fall by the wayside while my devotion to the cinema would only build (obviously!) and broaden into films of more mature themes, styles and genres.
1980 was the year where I completed reading author Lloyd Alexander's five book Chronicles Of Prydain series and I had also immersed myself in J.R.R. Tolkein's world of Middle Earth. Yet for some reason, I could not bring myself to become involved with "Dungeons and Dragons." I was heavy consumed with all things regarding the costume clad heroes and heroines of the DC and Marvel comics universes but within a few short years, those interests would fade in regards to the things I would actually desire to spend time reading.
1980 was the year I became a full fledged Anglophile. Dramatically spurred forwards by my obsession with The Beatles, I began seeking out anything and everything relating to England. Certainly this meant watching loads of Public Television, albeit programs like "Doctor Who," "Dave Allen At Large" and most certainly "Monty Python's Flying Circus." (And there was also "Benny Hill" and "The Kenny Everett Video Show" on Chicago's channel 32) But, this was also the time I discovered William Shakespeare through a PBS presentation of "As You Like It." I was so captivated that on a spring time family trip to Washington D.C., I insisted on making a stop at the Folger Shakespeare Library to pick up some plays and try to decipher this new literate world.
Music remained my primary obsession. I still took drum lessons and by that time my parents had purchased a full drum set for me. While my love for the candy colored sounds and harmonic haze of E.L.O. remained, my musical horizons had expanded greatly through the discovery of FM radio. I was confounded by Fleetwood Mac's "Tusk" album and was initially terrified yet completely won over by Pink Floyd's "The Wall." To any and all who know me, I still cannot go even one day without listening to music, so that part of me has not changed even one bit.
In 1980, I fell in love with a girl from another classroom. I had before and would do so again but during this year, I confided my feelings to one trusted friend who assisted me with the writing of a small love note which was then mistakenly placed into a locker which I did not know that the object of my affection shared with another classmate. So, what I had desired to remain as much of a secret as possible became public knowledge for a spell. While there was the hell of embarrassment to live through during that particular experience, it had absolutely nothing on what I would face in a few short years where the affairs of the heart became more confusing, painful, aching, frightening, monumentally awkward and seemingly insurmountable.
In the fall of 1980, I entered Middle School. While I entered 6th grade with the same classmates I had already attended school with, over the course of those three transformative years something strange occurred within myself and my classmates. In regards to my own self-image, whatever level of confidence I had within myself (which was already not terribly strong), had dramatically weakened as I became increasingly uncomfortable in my own skin. All of my attributes, whatever they may have been, felt as if they had retreated into hiding while my faults felt amplified and housed in neon framed signage for all to view. Whatever ideas I may have held from time to time about possibly obtaining an elusive sense of "cool" dissipated rapidly as I could not fully gather exactly how my classmates viewed me. I was very thankful to have friends and finding new friends was not a difficult task for me, but could I ever be "cool"? Could I ever be that type of person that others could not wait to be around? Could I be seen as desirable to girls--even to those outside of my own race? Could I ever fit the image that rested inside of my inner third eye? Or would I just have to be accepting of my role as a geek and face the fact that I was indeed how others really saw me: a bespectacled, corpulent, baseball cap wearing dork with drumsticks protruding from his pocket, who loved music and movies, was an average student (much to my parents' chagrin as they demanded excellence) and whose headphone plastered head was filled with all manner of useless facts? Believe me, dear readers, it was the latter.
In regards to the collective of my classmates, whatever camaraderie that had existed between us became gradually fragmented. Yes, people already had their particular groups of friends but we all seemed to co-exist harmoniously. But, through Middle School and onto High School, those groups of friends became cliques. We were all compartmentalized whether we wanted to be or not and frankly, whether we even knew it or not. School became an environment of closed communities, where if one did not somehow already possess the 10 exclusive qualities for admission, you were immediately branded as an outcast. At my rapturously warm 20th High School reunion, I had a brief, insightful conversation with a classmate, a person who has remained as lovely as I had remembered. She asked me plainly, "Scott, what happened to us back then?"
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean--we were all friends," she began. "Then suddenly, overnight, we all hated each other."
The summer of that reunion was the year 2007. I was 38 years old, well into my life as a preschool teacher and happy that so many passions of my youth had remained firmly. That summer, I had seen and adored Writer/Director Judd Apatow's "Knocked Up" as well as his production of "Superbad." One day, my friend , fellow teacher, trombonist for the Youngblood Brass Band and Apatow fan Joe Goltz approached me and asked if I had ever seen the television series "Freaks and Geeks." I replied that while I had been aware of the series, I never saw it during its initial run. Joe not only informed me of its greatness, within days he returned to school with his personal DVD copy of the entire series for me to view, with a certainty that this would be something right up my alley. Joe could not have been any more correct.
"Freaks and Geeks," created by Paul Feig and Executive Produced by Judd Apatow, an exquise comedy/drama series that chronicled the trials and tribulations of a collective of High School students, aired on NBC during the 1999-2000 television season. While the series was critically acclaimed, it perished quickly due to time slot changes and low ratings. In fact, NBC only aired 12 of the season's 18 episodes, farming the remainder out to the Fox Family Channel. In some ways, I do not know why I did not watch this series when it first aired. As I have said, Joe was absolutely correct with his perceptions due to my eternal adoration of stories involving the teen age experience. That said, it amazes me that in an industry that is as heavily youth based as Hollywood is, just how very few times it has attained an interpretation of adolescence that felt honest, accurate and respectful of the age.
I came of age during what I would like to call "The Golden Age Of Teen Films," a period of time I feel existed between the years of 1982 and 1989, when filmmakers and writers like Cameron Crowe, Amy Heckerling, Martha Coolidge and undeniably John Hughes re-wrote the rules and raised the bar for a genre so high that it has rarely been reached again since. Even more surprising is on television, a medium which is littered with High School hallways and teenage dramas that it makes my mouth drop open when I think of how so criminally few have ever gotten the subject matter right. Yes, there was "James At 15" in the 1970s and the brilliant "My So-Called Life" in the early/mid 1990s, but both of those shows were cancelled too quickly and are typically tossed aside for the likes of Brandon, Dylan, Dawson and those singing, dancing, waaaayy toooo old and waaay tooo gorgeous high school "geeks" of "Glee" (sorry, not a fan). With "Freaks and Geeks," perhaps I was just skeptical despite the strong critical notices. Could this show ever really be as good as they said it was? And frankly, after John Hughes, anyone who attempted to creatively mine adolescence in film or television had a mighty mountain to climb, in my mind.
"Freaks and Geeks"takes place during the 1980-1981 school year at the fictional William McKinley High School, in the equally fictional Detroit, Michigan suburb of Chippewa (perhaps a nod to Hughes' fictional Shermer High School in the equally fictional Shermer, Illinois) and revolves around a collective of students marginalized in the two titular social categories. Making up the core group of "burnouts," otherwise known as the "freaks," are the following upperclassmen: the darkly cool Daniel Desario (James Franco), the reticent and sardonic Ken Miller (Seth Rogen), the sensitive music fanatic and would be rock drummer Nick Andopolis (Jason Segal) and finally, Daniel's girlfriend, the explosively volatile Kim Kelly (Busy Phillips). As for the Freshmen "geeks," we are introduced to the gangly, awkward Bill Haverchuck (Martin Starr) and self-appointed comedy connoisseur Neal Schweiber (Samm Levine). At the center of these characters, and the series as a whole, are siblings Lindsay and Sam Weir (beautifully portrayed by Linda Cardellini and John Francis Daley).
Where Sam is best friends with his fellow "geeks" as they painfully attempt to navigate the new High School social hierarchy, avoid all manner of bullies, survive aching crushes and all forms of public humiliation, Lindsay has found herself in a most compelling period of transition. Lindsay is a "proper" girl, excellent student and star "Mathlete," but the death of her Grandmother has sent her into an existential depression. Shunning her conservative clothing, ideals, friendships and the Math team, Lindsay begins to constantly wear her Grandfather's army jacket and finally, embraces her curiosities and seeks out the "freaks," hoping to join their ranks. Her seemingly sudden change in attitude simultaneously worries, frustrates and confuses not only her former friends, but her Mother, Jean (Becky Ann Baker) and her hysterically gruff and stern Father, Harold (SCTV's Joe Flaherty).
The full mission of "Freaks and Geeks" is brilliantly established in the opening moments of the pilot episode. The scene opens upon a High School football field. We are quickly introduced to an attractive football player and his equally attractive cheerleader girlfriend seated on the bleachers. After a few moments of hearing these two students work through whatever romantic drama has been ailing them, the camera quickly pans downwards, to underneath the bleachers where we find the "freaks" themselves, Daniel, Ken and Nick, as they swap prurient stories and extol their worship of the then recently deceased Led Zeppelin drummer John Bonham as Van Halen's "Runnin' With The Devil" blares on the soundtrack. The camera then pans away from the "freaks" and momentarily rests upon Lindsay, who is watching the "freaks" from afar and building enough courage to approach them. Then, the music changes from Van Halen to Kenny Loggins' "I'm Alright," as the camera pans away from Lindsay to find the "geeks," Sam, Neal and Bill, cracking jokes they had just learned from yet another theatrical viewing of "Caddyshack." Through this introduction of the cast of characters, Feig and Apatow deftly present their goal to eschew with all of the cliches prevalent within the teen genre, with their cavalcade of pretty people with problems and absolutely no resemblance to any real world teenagers anywhere. The kids of "Freaks and Geeks" not only look the correct age, they all look like the very people we have each grown up with. Additionally, the series lays waste to every prefabricated "Afterschool Special" homily you have ever seen and it even gently satirizes the teen dreams of John Hughes' films as it also embraces them.
As of about one week ago, I completed watching "Freaks and Geeks" in its entirety for the third time. Each time I finish, I am marvelled and overcome with its undeniable beauty. While it makes me sad to feel that a series this wonderful seemed to be doomed before it ever had a chance, "Freaks and Geeks," in its own way, feels like a complete statement about adolescence and the High School experience. I am absolutely amazed with how much ground the series actually covered over the course of its 18 episodes. In addition to the eternal teenage rites of passage like acceptance, tolerance, peer pressure, living up to or defying parental and societal expectations as well as the on-going battle to fit into an ever evolving social hierarchy, "Freaks and Geeks" also delved into rich and darker waters of confusing sexual identity, the almost fatal consequences of bullying, the moment when one's biggest dreams crash to the ground and the pain that occurs when one is beginning to understand the complexities of the larger, adult world. With all of those intertwining threads (and more), "Freaks and Geeks" feels more like a novel or in musical terms, a rock opera, with all of its conceptual peaks and valleys, collective of recurring movements and themes and the sweeping emotions that exist inside teenage hearts everywhere.
Above all, "Freaks and Geeks" is a show about perceptions, how the characters all perceive each other as well as themselves. In addition to asking of themselves the extremely difficult question, "Who am I?" the characters also seem to be asking of each other, in the words of The Who, "Who Are You?"
Lindsay Weir's provocative journey throughout the series is nothing less than a young woman's search to find her unique place in the world. In one episode, she describes herself as a Democrat, much to the chagrin of her Republican Father. In another, she proclaims to be an atheist, sparking a debate with her gawky childhood friend and former Mathlete teammate, the highly religious Millie Kentner (Sarah Hagan). In even another, as Lindsay correctly tires of being manipulated by the antics of her new "freak" friends, she abandons them and returns to the life and friendships she had with Millie and her ilk only to find herself rejecting them once again to return to Daniel, Ken, Nick and Kim. Lindsay Weir has an enormous heart, strong conviction of justice and fairness, is forthright and compassionate to a fault. Her good nature and desire to not see others in pain results in sometimes complicated and almost disastrous scenarios, most notably a brief romance and long fallout with Nick with ever shifting emotions intact. By the series end, Lindsay makes even one more remarkable choice, cementing her, by even one more step, into the person she is still evolving to become.
With regards to the "freaks," how easy it would have been to just have these characters stay perpetually stoned and provide tiresome drug humor from one episode to another. Thankfully, Feig, Apatow, the writing team and the actors all worked diligently to ensure that the "freaks" existed as real human beings. First of all, all of the "freak" characters emerge from very troubled home lives. As they have all found each other, they have essentially created their own tribe or even family with the school setting functioning as their "home," no matter how much they hate being there. They fight often but never abandon each other. They accept each other unconditionally but even then, they realize the existence of their own limitations just through their associations with each other, a quality that at times causes intense friction.
Daniel, for instance, is an 18 year old Junior, as he was held back. Nick is also a terrible student, but who was once a star basketball player (a clever foreshadowing of Lindsay's potential future if she makes similar life choices). Both Daniel and Nick have been made to feel insignificant by the most influential people in their lives (Daniel's teachers, who have long given up on him and Nick's military Father, who threatens to send him into the army). Ken Miller, who openly acknowledges that while his parents are not "bad people," has absolutely no relationship with them and was even raised by a nanny ("The best Mom money could buy," he states.). And then, there's Kim Kelly, whose home life is especially grim. With these depictions, Feig and Apatow are affording the audience the opportunity to think of these kids on the fringes and see how and why they are who they are. The "freaks" are kids who have been subject to endless and at times, abusive criticism, public humiliation and outright rejection throughout their lives by their families and teachers so why wouldn't they become lost in a drug haze or stop caring about their education? If no one believes in them, then how can they believe in themselves and why bother anyway? Throughout the series, all of the "freaks" end up spending time at the Weir residence and are subject to sporadically being part of a "normal' family. When Jean kindly offers food or when Harold, while stern also expresses that Nick is a "smart kid," you realize that these words and actions are the very sort the "freaks" are never subject to receiving from their own families. These are the kernels that will allow the "freaks" to build their waning self-esteem but those moments are so fleeting once they return to their regular lives.
Things are not any easier for the "geeks." For Sam Weir, being small in stature, extremely shy and hopelessly romantic, makes him easy and continuous prey for Alan White, the school bully (Chauncey Leopardi) and unseen as a desirable love interest for his aching crush, the popular cheerleader Cindy Sanders (Natasha Melnick). Like the "freaks," Sam, Neal and Bill also engage in moments where they are afraid they are holding each other back from successfully scaling the High School social ladder as they each struggle with locker room horrors, being picked last for gym class teams, discovering the most acceptable fashion sense, playing "Spin The Bottle" with the popular kids at a house party, being terrified of older girls (Rashida Jones gives a terrific performance an an angry girl who torments Sam), and being even more terrified during a Sex Education unit and also while covertly viewing a porn film.
Returning to the theme of perceptions, Feig and Apatow challenge us again. We, like their schoolmates, may be harboring certain attitudes about Sam, Neal and Bill, solely based upon how they look. But, one never really knows what baggage someone is carrying internally. How would you handle the situation if you were a latch-key kid being raised by a single Mother and she decides to seriously date your gym teacher? How would you handle the situation if your Dad, a man you and your friends worship, was discovered to be having an affair and you ultimately find his secret "love nest"? The anxieties the boys face are just heartbreaking as they seem so fragile. But, time and again, they surprise you, and themselves, with a resilience, resolve and maturity they never knew they possessed.
I applaud Feig and Apatow tremendously for always ensuring that every character within "Freaks and Geeks," from the main cast, to the supporting student characters to even the teaching staff and parents are treated with dignity even when they were experiencing their worst humiliations and private hurts. I greatly appreciated how many of the characters slid in and out of their respective groups and stereotypes on their respective inner journeys. And most importantly, not even one character is the butt of a joke or designed to be laughed at profusely. And I mention that observation because despite the drama and even how dark the series grows over the 18 episodes, "Freaks and Geeks" is first and foremost a comedy. While the show depicts High School as accurately as possible, Feig and Apatow, utilize their rich characters and tales of obtaining fake IDs, having that keg party while the parents are away and even a visit from then Vice President George H.W. Bush, for great blasts of humor and this show is indeed laugh out loud funny from the first episode to the finale. "Freaks and Geeks" is not a bleak dirge in any fashion whatsoever. It is supremely warm, inviting and enormously entertaining while always being truthful.
There is not any way I could offer a tribute to this series without mentioning its brilliant usage of rock music throughout its soundtrack. Unlike the films of John Hughes, where his music selections felt like the suggestions from a beloved, more worldly older brother, the music of "Freaks and Geeks" encapsulated almost all of the music I listened to myself in 1980 as I flowed my record albums and the radio dials of WLS-AM, WMET-FM and WLUP-FM otherwise known as "The Loop." Like the very best films, Feig and Apatow utilize the familiar music in endlessly creative ways as the songs functioned as so much more than cementing a time and place. The songs informed and defined the characters and told the stories just as much as the scripts and dialogue.
The opening credits sequence featuring the cast posing for jarring school yearbook photos is ironically scored to Joan Jett and the Blackhearts' "Bad Reputation." Joe Jackson's "Look Sharp" scores a moment where Sam is feathering his hair and trying out his new blue leisure suit, hoping to impress Cindy Sanders. One episode is (nearly) entirely scored to the music of The Who, with "I'm One" as a standout moment where Bill spends one more afternoon home alone eating a snack and laughing hysterically at Garry Shandling on "The Dinah Shore Show." Several songs from Billy Joel score an especially bittersweet episode where the "geeks" befriend and fall in love with a pretty new transfer student and fear losing her to the cool kids thus leaving them behind. Music from The Grateful Dead provides the series with its most poignant moments in the series finale. And a personal favorite occurred at the conclusion of an episode where Lindsay ping-pongs between her old and new friends, finally resting with the "freaks." She finds them, late one night sitting outside of a convenience store, and after some tentative moments, all of them whisk away to a midnight foreign film. The scene is scored to Supertramp's "Take The Long Way Home" and I could not have imagined a more appropriate song choice as all of the characters are each taking their respective long journeys towards home, wherever and whatever those homes may happen to be. But, in that moment, home is found in the bonds of friendship they share. And the lump I felt in my throat as I watched can only come from a work of art that not only entertains but speaks to the soul. For me, "Freaks and Geeks" speaks very loudly.
For reasons I have never discovered or understood, I am so in tune with the cycle of the school year. As a student and now as a teacher, I revel within the bittersweet joy and melancholy that is found within those nine months. I find an odd romance in the world and lives contained inside of the school hallways and teacher's lounges. I find an endless fascination with the time where people who would have never chosen each other are forced to spend years and years living in and out of each other's pockets as they try to co-exist and find their individualistic places in the world. "Freaks and Geeks" is a series that celebrates and represents that unique time of life at its absolute creative best. It deserves to exist as so much more than a "cult classic." It is a show that deserves to be embraced by the largest audience possible.
On first thought, maybe mass popularity would completely go against a series championing the outsiders, the kids on the fringes. But then again, I believe there is something inside of each and every one of us that feels like a freak or as a geek and instead of feeling apologetic or ashamed, perhaps those qualities are the very ones that should be held aloft for all the world to see, warts and all. As a new school year begins, I cannot recommend enough that you introduce yourselves or re-visit "Freaks and Geeks," as it is undoubtedly one of the very best television series I have had the pleasure to witness.
And if this epic tribute makes you think of me as being an even greater geek than ever before, then so be it.
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