I've had my doubts about this season of Scranton misadventures. Many of the plot lines have been unlikely (Andy forgiving Angela and being alright with Dwight) or trite (the budget surplus that resulted in a copy machine/chair debacle). Dwight's plights became annoyingly predictable, and I was almost hoping for a "Lost"-like intervention where he might get sucked into the space-time continuum, get time-travel sickness, and die a violent death at the hands of an astrophysicist; kind of what is happening for Charlotte Lewis). But fear not! Mr. Schrute is back with a bang, starting the show off right with a "practice" fire drill, in which he locks the doors, warms door handles, and sets a trash can on fire. At the first sign of smoke, the Dunder-Mifflinites break into a raw panic. Angela pulls out a cat from a filing cabinet (sidenote: awesome!) and eventually throws it up in the ceiling tiles. Michael Scott tries to throw an overhead projector to break the window. Kevin breaks the glass of the vending machines. Stanley has a heart attack. And among the mêlée, I rekindle hope for the workers of Dunder Mifflin Scranton.
Let's start from the beginning. A very un-contrite Dwight is dragged into corporate to get a stern lecture from David Wallace. He is told he must collect signatures from everyone in the office before he's let off the hook. Stanley returns to the office, a little shaky, but not enough for the wheelchair Andy offers him ("Just use it until you can walk," Andy says).Thus begins official safety training, beginning with First Aide and CPR. The woman tries to coach Michael how to use the dummy. "It's 10o pumps a minute," she says, "kind of like that Bee Gee's song." And ridiculously Michael begins singing...as does the rest of the staff. Each gets a little more into it, Andy most so with his "Here Comes Treble" harmonies. Michael at one point is having so much fun with the impromptu karaoke that he forgets to pump. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Dwight breaks out a hunting knife and rips into the dummy's chest. "We must harvest his organs," he exclaims as he plummets a hunting knife into the dummy. Really, Dwight?
Michael begins his own stress-relief seminar, complete with ambient music he downloads from the interweb. He tries to help Stanley relax, but every time he gets closer to Stanley, a little heart monitor goes off, alerting Stanley of a dangerously high heart rate. Oscar tries it and the same thing happens. "You're the one stressing people out," he says. So Michael institutes a Roast, a la Comedy Central; a way for all of the busy bees at Dunder Mifflin to take out their anger and aggression. "It could be my race," Michael says, as if anyone needed ideas on how to Roast Michael Scott. "It could be the fact that I'm so fit, or a womanizer, anything. I don't want to write your stuff for you, but I want it to be good."
Turns out, it is. The whole of Dunder Mifflin meets in the warehouse for the Roast. Highlights include Kelly's list of people she'd rather make out with than Michael (a turtle, a wood chipper, anyone from warehouse, Lord Voldemort). Pam roasts Michael's "thing." "How small was it?" someone from warehouse calls out. "If it were an iPod, it would be a Shuffle."
Bam, Pam! Someone's got quite the searing wit. All of the roasts seemed a little much for Michael, and he fails to show up to work the next day. He wears a turtleneck. He tries to feed pigeons, but they've migrated south for the winter.
Meanwhile, on the Pim/Jam front (I haven't decided which adorable couple name to use), they're fighting...again. Pam's parents are on the rocky road to divorce, and Pam encourages Jim to talk to her father. He does, and next thing we know, Mr. Beasley, Senior is on his way to finding a new apartment. "What did you say to him?" she demands.
Turns out, Jim just said the sorts of things to make the 17-49 year-old demographic melt. "I told him I loved you since the moment we met, and that I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
Pam's dad never felt that, even at his best, and that's why he's moving out. And that's why we don't get married at 21, kids.
And Michael finally shows up (still in a sort of Paul Simon-esque turtleneck), this time, ready to roast the roasters. "Oscar, you're GAY!" he says. "Meredith is an alcoholic! Kevin, I don't know whether to make fun of you because you're stupid or because your fat!" Rather than the scandalized faces usually seen, Stanley starts...chuckling. And the rest of the office joins in. Could Michael Scott, the blundering, clueless captain of the sinking Dunder-Mifflin ship, actually have done something right? It would certainly appear so.
In my hot-wings induced state, I arrived at two very important conclusions. One, it was a decent episode. Decent, not great. Much like the 3D Sobe commercial that aired mid-Superbowl, this week's episode seemed high on the gimmicks and low on the substance. One of the great joys of this show is the unpredictable moments, the awkward pauses, the ignorance and bigotry that is somehow turned comedic; but points can only be made so many times, and at a certain volume. Dwight's character seems too much of a stereotype now to be anything more than the catalyst to a quick laugh. Pam and Jim have had far too many bumps in the road for me to care. Second, get on with it, already. The show has gone from speaking to me pleasantly to a loud monotone of stale jokes and a lack of insight.
Maybe they should be more like Pam and take the rest of art school, even if they fail and have to return to Scranton.
But it's just a thought. I'm not the inspiration in the black turtleneck.
Bethertainment Weekly Grade: B-
