Today's sitcom couples actually like each other—unlike the bickering husbands and wives of the past few decades
When NBC announced that its two freshman comedies, Whitney and Up All Night, would swap time slots, anyone who enjoys good TV smiled with relief. Whitney, the grating and unrewardingly vulgar sitcom about a couple who argue with and tease each other as they stave off marriage, was originally gifted with the Peacock Network's comedy "pimp slot"—after The Office, NBC's highest-rated comedy, on Thursday nights. Criminally, Up All Night, the delightful slice-of-life family comedy about frazzled new parents played by Christina Applegate and Will Arnett, was at first thanklessly slotted to open an untested Wednesday comedy block, with no lead-in to help launch it and The X Factor on rival network FOX as its big competition.
Switching the two comedies' time slots, then, made sense for many reasons. With its single-camera format and adherence to the "grounded lunacy" motif that NBC has honed so well, Up All Night is a natural fit alongside 30 Rock, Parks and Recreation, and The Office. But more than that—and unlike the mean-spirited Whitney—Up All Night shares the most appealing attribute of those other sitcoms: The characters care for each other. As a series centered around a romantic couple, Up All Night signals that a trend—one that's been exhibited to various extents by The Office's Jim and Pam, Parks and Rec's April and Andy and Leslie and Ben, and, platonically, 30 Rock's Jack and Liz—has arrived. On TV, love is in the air again.
For too long, love had gone away. Archie Bunker may have been irritated by Edith on All in the Family, but his ribbing was always good-natured and never betrayed the obvious love he had for his wife. On I Love Lucy, Ricky Ricardo's pained wail of "Luuuccyy!" could as well have been a whispered sweet nothing for all the passion and devotion that underlined it. Married viewers yearned for a relationship as blissful as the Huxtables' on The Cosby Show while courting paramours envied the hot-and-cold, but always warm at heart, of Sam and Diane's partnering on Cheers. Unfooled by her sarcastic front, no viewer could ever say that Roseanne Connor wasn't head over heels for Dan.
Story continues below
But for much of the '90s and early '00s, TV shifted away from portraying relationships where love trumped exasperation. Perhaps it reflected the nation's rise in divorce rates, or our culture's increasing jadedness, but people on TV seemed to just stop liking each other. Sitcom couples, especially, began really getting on each other's nerves. A spate of shows about harried housewives and schlubby husbands took over the airwaves. Slaps on the back of the head suddenly superseded pecks on the cheek.
Say what you want about the overall quality of Everybody Loves Raymond, but the most irksome part of the series was the relentless tension between Debra and Ray. Rare sweet moments—Ray planning a romantic getaway, for example—were hardly ever allowed time to breathe before something sparked yet another shrill argument. Just like The King of Queens and countless other hot wife/deadbeat husband sitcoms, the comedy was mined from constant nagging, betting on humorous payoffs when the characters reached their boiling points.
From Jamie and Paul on Mad About You to the title characters on Dharma and Greg, relationships were more caustic than caring. There was certainly a believability to that aspect of commitment. But the other, warmer shades necessary to make the relationships relatable were either missing or too fleeting to make an impact—the kind of impact that make Archie and Edith, Lucy and Ricky iconic.
More On TV
|TV's Most Realistic and Ridiculous Representations of New York City|
|Parks and Recreation Loves Middle America|
|The Meta, Innovative Genius of Community|
|The Glory of Oprah|
|Are TV's Bridesmaids Knock-Offs Good for Women?|
On Up All Night, Reagan and Chris tread a fine line: they're a realistic long-term couple, but they manage to avoid the sniping that characterized many sitcom couples that came before them. Struggling with the realization that their nights of Jaeger shots and karaoke are behind them, replaced by debates over whose turn it is to feed their newborn, the characters could easily devolve into endless Raymond-style bickering. But instead, the show is touchingly sweet, and good-hearted about the way it portrays the minute frustrations of parenthood. As played by Applegate and Arnett, you believe that Regan and Chris are a team, figuring it all out together.