Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Things I Feel Like Writing About: Community - "Mixology Certification"

I always feel like I should be writing on this blog, but often times I don't really know what to write about. I love television, but I don't always feel like writing about every episode of television that I watch. (For example, I've been really into Rick and Morty lately, but I'm struggling to find a way to write about it, because it's one of those shows where I just like to turn off my brain and get sucked into the experience). So I decided, hey, why not just choose things I feel like I want to write about and write about them?

The first thing I have decided to write about is "Mixology Certification", the tenth episode of Community's wonderful second season (which is a season of television that I love so much I could probably write eighteen of these posts talking about why it's so incredible). It's not really a secret that Community is a show I've developed a personal connection with over the years, and "Mixology Certification" is one of those rare pieces of art where I watch it and I sort of see my own experiences reflected back at me. There's really not a lot of things out there that do this for me, and for a while, I didn't really know why I had such a connection to this specific episode, I just knew I did. So here we are, my journey into discovering why I love "Mixology Certification" (assisted by some Fishsticks screencaps!).


"Mixology Certification" is an episode centered around Troy's 21st birthday (which he only just realizes is his 21st, due to a lie his mom has been telling him for years). It's probably not the episode that most people think of when they think about Community, in that it's completely grounded - taking place entirely in reality and even being mostly devoid of pop culture references. Community has more of these kinds of episodes than you might expect given its reputation as a highly experimental, genre-defying show, and I've always felt that they were essential to making the higher-concept stuff work. What makes Community more than just a collection of pop culture gags and middle fingers to the fourth wall is the fact that it's rooted in characters we can easily relate to and that we quickly grow to care about, and it's episodes like "Mixology Certification" that cement all of that.

Anyway, the plot of "Mixology" is exceedingly simple. In fact, it's so simple that it's basically an American tradition - the study group learns that it's Troy's 21st birthday, and they decide to celebrate at a nearby bar. Jeff and Britta get into a huge argument over which bar they should go to - Jeff's "douchey" L Street and Britta's "hipster-y" Red Door. But as hilarious as their banter is, this isn't a Jeff and Britta episode. This is an episode about the entire study group, in a way, as it shows them all in their most vulnerable and honest states. But it's mostly an episode that focuses on the two youngest members of the study group - Troy and Annie. I have never really thought of Community as a traditional "college" show since it's mostly not about college-aged people, but "Mixology" and several of the shows' other Troy/Annie plotlines prove that the show could be a great show about college-aged people if it wanted to be.



The central heart of "Mixology" is based on the fact that Troy believes his 21st birthday signifies his becoming a man. Troy's central arc has always been around his maturation, and his maturation has always been largely influenced by the people around him. Yes, much of it is from Abed, who helped Troy crawl out of his "cool guy" high school shell and into the person he really wanted to be, but much of that also comes from the rest of his elders in the study group, who have served as his glimpse into the adult world for the past two years. To Troy, the rest of the study group are the people that he can hopes he can become one day. They hold the keys to the future. They know stuff. When you're young, you assume that there's some point, probably around the time you're 21 or something, where you just start to get it, and you look at people who are older than you and you look forward to the day you can get it like them. Troy certainly believes that the time has finally come for him to get it. "I can't wait to understand these arguments!" he excitedly gloats as Jeff and Britta continue to argue about their favorite bars. Jeff and Britta, of course, gladly take the role as Troy's mentor as they shame him out of buying a 7&7 because they are the ones who know about alcohol and they know it's a lame drink. Jeff and Britta have incredibly bruised egos, and they latch right onto Troy's trust in them and act as the almighty masters of adulthood who know everything there is to know about alcohol and, you know, life. 


But as the night wears on, the people that Troy has looked up to for the past two years begin to slowly melt into embarrassing piles of insecurity. Jeff and Britta's bickering gets increasingly ridiculous to the point of childish, far from the connoisseurs of maturity they were presenting themselves as. Abed is picked up by a young gay man in search of a companion for the night (played by Paul F. Tompkins!) that Abed misinterprets as a guy who wants to talk about Farscape, leaving Abed feeling ashamed and with a bunch of beer in his face. Pierce spends the entire night attempting to maneuver his wheelchair into the bar, only to learn that he's really not doing as well as he thinks he is. And in the episodes' most heartbreaking sequence, the group finds out that Shirley was once a pretty heavy alcoholic after they discover some unflattering pictures from her past in the bar, leaving her storming out angry and ashamed. All of these situations could've easily been played for laughs, but Community digs into the surface of them and exposes the sadness underneath the surface. When Troy looks around and realizes the state of the people he once respected, he begins to realize that a) alcohol makes people sad (because it's the Lifetime Movies of beverages) and b) he's suddenly being left to care for his woefully inebriated friends.




It's here where the Annie storyline makes its impact, which is perhaps the most painfully relatable storyline of the episode for me. Being 19, Annie is the only study group member that can't legally get into the bar and has to use a fake ID (courtesy of Britta). The ID is of Caroline Decker from Corpus Christie, Texas (78418), and Annie insists that she takes on the persona in full, just in case (which, according to Annie, is "someone who has really bad credit and an unfinished Mermaid tattoo"). She takes on a Southern accent at the door to lessen the bouncers' suspicions, and continues to do so in the bar - you know, just in case, because Annie's so uptight and paranoid, right? That's what we think, and it's probably true at first, but it soon becomes clear that Annie has adapted the Caroline Decker persona just for fun. Or at least, it looks like it's just for fun, until Annie begins having a full-on conversation with the bartender where she plays up the Caroline persona by inventing elaborate stories about punching her probation officer and traveling with the band Phish. At some point, Annie becomes Caroline Decker. She begins talking about her uptight friend Annie who has her entire life planned out and isn't like her because she's a floater and doesn't even know what she's going to do next. It's all a little bit silly, but it's rooted in a kind of existential despair, and that all comes to the surface when Annie goes from ordering root beers to ordering screwdrivers. "I ain't got no place to be", she says. "What am I, Annie?". Something about that line just gets me. This storyline - and this episode overall - captures the feeling of being in your early 20s so well. It understands the emotional confusion of the feeling where the person you've always expected yourself to become and the person you're becoming aren't quite lining up, and you're not exactly sure what to do with that. There's a pressure around people my age to live up to expectations, and when you don't, you just want to slip away and be someone else. And maybe sometimes you do. Maybe you don't take on the persona of a fake ID, but maybe you try to look like someone you're not or do things you don't really want to do or tell people you're something you're not. The way the show embraces this emotional truth - something I've never seen portrayed well anywhere else - is what makes it so poignant to me. I guess that's part of why I have such a personal connection to this episode. There's moments where I would love to slip away and be my own Caroline Decker, because sometimes pretending to be someone else is easier than being yourself. 


Troy is facing a similar existential crisis, as a night that was supposed to see him getting legally wasted for the first time ends up with him serving as the designated driver. Pretty much everything that Troy has believed all of his life has just turned out to be a lie, and it all comes to a screeching moment of realization when Jeff and Britta realize that the two bars they've been arguing about all night are the same bar. In a dramatic moment that can rival anything on Mad Men, Troy stops the car in a halt and belts, "THEY'RE THE SAME BAR?!?!". But it's more than just that, as he continues on. "I spent the last two years thinking you guys knew more than me about life, and I just found out that you're just as dumb as me". So what is being a man, then? It's not drinking, because that just makes people sad and childish. It's not being like Jeff and Britta, because they're idiots. The episodes' stance is that adulthood is basically the realization that adults are just as confused about everything as you are, and knowing that no one is ever going to figure any of this out.


It's a damn melancholy message for a network sitcom, but it all ends in an earned moment of sweetness, when both Troy and Annie's insecurities nicely dovetail into each other. Troy drops Annie off at her apartment door, and the two sit and have a conversation about the strange path that the night went down. "I pretended to be a different person tonight", Annie admits. "Because I didn't want to be me. Because I'm not sure who I am". Troy then stops for a moment and re-affirms Annie that she's Annie and she likes puzzles and little monsters on her pencil and some guy named Mark Ruffalo, and that she's a fierce competitor, a sore loser, and always expects everyone to be better than who they are and herself to be better than everyone. Sometimes, you need someone else to remind you that being you isn't so bad. And sometimes you need to make someone else realize that to make yourself realize it. That's what being an adult is. Not drinking alcohol, not having the knowledge of the world at your fingers, not Jeff and Britta. It's not knowing what the hell you're doing, realizing that no one else does either, and trying to get through it together.



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