Tobias: disoriented, confused and battered. Much like season four (credit: screenshot) |
When Arrested Development was cancelled seven years ago, I was crushed (much like Gob in a Bluth model home). Here was a brilliant albeit little watched TV show that was cut down mercilessly in its prime, much like Freaks & Geeks, Undeclared and Party Down before it. Sure, we were treated to Michael Cera’s best impersonations of George-Michael in Superbad, Scott Pilgrim vs the World, Juno, Youth in Revolt and Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist (and basically every other movie he’s been in since), but even his best solo efforts couldn’t mask the fact that the Bluth family that’s dysfunctional together, needs each other. So when creator Mitchell Hurwitz announced earlier this year that Netflix would be releasing brand new AD episodes in an experimental single character focus per episode format (due to Hurwitz’s limited time with his busy cast), I was wary.
It’s a slog. A meandering and lumbering slog.
It’s a slog. A meandering and lumbering slog.
This format, more often than not, worked for Skins, but the British teen drama didn’t have 15 episodes stretched roughly over the same period of time. Ron Howard’s narrations, which were a fixture in earlier seasons, are lengthier this time around and feel tedious as viewers are introduced and reintroduced (and sometimes, even rereintroduced) to a plotline that was already overly bloated, confusing and intricate in the first place. Diligently going through the collection of episodes from a different character’s standpoint on virtually similar events leading up to a shambolic Cinco de Quartro ultimately reveals certain motivations and misunderstandings that weren’t originally apparent, but in most scenes, you’ll be left harping after memories of a time when the complete ensemble was sharing the same joke at the same place and time.
But it’s not all bad.
Kristen Wiig as young Lucille? Masterstroke. Seth Rogen as George Sr with hair? Less so. The slew of I-can’t-believe-it’s-him/her cameos in the new AD is far-reaching, if mostly hit and miss. Terry Crews’s hilarious turn as bungling conservative politician Herbert Love elevated Lindsay’s second individual episode (the puntastic ‘Red Hairing’) to a season standout; in contrast, the Workaholics trio (quartet if you count Erik Griffin) unfortunately added nothing to the Michael-based pilot, ‘Flight of the Phoenix’. The show’s trademark whacky flashbacks, zany metafiction humour and blink-and-miss self-referencing remain front and centre of the show’s modus operandi (‘Showstealer Pro Trial Version’, THAT IS ALL). You can also bet your banana stand that Gob, Tobias and Buster (who contribute to the funnier individual episodes) are still around firing on all cylinders in a belated puzzle-like season that sees Michael trying to produce the elusive Bluth family movie and Lindsay going from India to Balboa Towers via an ostrich farm.
So what now brown cow?
One of the most attractive elements of the AD universe was a fan’s ability to watch large sections of the first 53 episodes consecutively without feeling bored or disinterested. The highly anticipated 2013 edition, ironically designed for binge viewers, is a different beast altogether. It’s harder to stomach in a single sitting, a lamentable fact that can be attributed to its longer screening time (one particular episode hit 37 minutes, in comparison to its earlier 20-minute episodes) and slower pace. The first few uninspiring episodes set up the entire season nicely in terms of storyline, but the genuine vintage AD moments are fleeting and only really present during the latter stages of season four. If given an option of which AD to rewatch in years to come, this slowburner of a bumpy season would decidedly be my fourth choice.
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