Leslie Knope, season five
There’s this question psychiatrists use to identify sociopaths. A woman goes to her mother’s funeral where she meets the perfect man, it’s love at first sight, but he leaves before she finds out who he is. So, what does she do to see him again?
Aubrey Plaza in Nylon magazine (Sept, 2014)
I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know I’m doing it really, really well.
It looks stupid but is in fact smart. It seems cruel but is secretly compassionate. Mostly, it is very, very funny. Laugh-out-loud funny. At its finest moments, cackling-in-the-basement-while-huffing-glue funny…as scurvy as the show’s gags can get, “Always Sunny” is not a nihilistic series…Binge-watch episodes, and a gonzo compassion begins to seep up through the filthy surface…the show addresses, with pride and self-loathing, its own unwillingness to be easily loved. It’s not as if dark shows can’t be popular: “Seinfeld” was a hit, after all. Yet, as impressive as “Seinfeld” was, it had no muck in it. It was icy and calculated, with its anger banked. In part, this was because of who the members of the “Seinfeld” gang were: educated Manhattanites with safety nets. In contrast, the “Always Sunny” characters are gutter punks—mostly Irish-Catholic drunks, although the twins grew up rich, with a Nazi grandfather—with no skills, intractable addictions, terrible families, and little capacity to get anywhere except the Jersey Shore, where they end up fighting over a “rum ham.” They’re not fun drunks: they’re scary, sad ones. As tightly constructed as the show’s jokes can be, the best bits of “Always Sunny” have a serrated aggression, and an air of strangeness and risk. —Bar None
by Emily Nussbaum (via gonzomessiah