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Which brings me to what this column is supposed to really be about - the mythology of the show. See, what makes Community so appealing to some, off-putting to others, is that it’s possibly the ultimate post-modern/meta show. It’s not just a sitcom; it’s a sitcom about sitcoms. It doesn’t just have a show mythology; it has a show mythology about show mythologies. Whoa, pretty heady stuff, kinda appropriate for a show about a college, don’t you think? Look, I know all of this stuff sounds pretentious, the very quality of Community which prevents it from being a hit, but that’s what the show is. It’s a sitcom about watching sitcoms.

At first glance, it seems to fit in the mold of a Simpsons style mythology (another meta show, but one with a big difference). You have a fictional locale, in this case Greendale Community College, a core cast, and an ever-expanding supporting cast. Okay, this is pretty common sitcom stuff; most viewers should feel comfortable with it. Then you begin to realize that the show isn’t taking this universe very seriously. Well, that’s not quite fair, it’s not that it doesn’t take it seriously, it’s that it doesn’t seem to have a lot of reverence for it.

As characters embody certain sitcom tropes and archetypes, they call themselves out on it, making what would be both subtext and cliché on most comedies the very point of Community’s existence. It both embodies the formula and examines it with a comedic eye.

Jeff isn’t just the lead of the show. He’s considered within the group to be the leader. The irony of such a misanthropic leader isn’t lost on the rest of the group. They constantly question his appropriateness as leader before accepting him in his role, again and again. Then they acknowledge that they accept him in the role, again and again.

His love triangle with Britta and Annie isn’t just a sitcom cliché. It’s an opportunity for pop culture savant Abed to examine the cliché of sitcom love triangles. The love triangle is both love triangle and commentary on love triangles.

This goes beyond just the core group (openly labeled the core group within the show), extending to the Greendale universe around it. Look no further than the character of Magnitude. Magnitude is designed as a parody of those popular recurring characters that are, at first minor, but then grow to dominate the show, Urkel style. He has a meaningless, calculated catchphrase, “pop pop," a catchphrase so awful, it’s kinda awesome. And, of course, in true Community fashion, the show’s fans have ironically embraced Magnitude as a favorite, even as the Greendale student body embrace him without irony. Which is… the irony of the character.

Community is both sitcom and an examination of sitcoms. It’s like a house of mirrors, reflecting infinitely back upon itself. It’s a very calculated, academic show. And that is its biggest problem in courting a mass audience. We are an ironic culture in 2012, yes. So there is an audience for such a self-reflexive program. But we still have a desire to let go of our pretensions from time to time, and relax with a bunch of great characters that we love. A place where we can go, if you will, where we know everybody’s name, and let go of all of our sneering for 22 minutes.

I think this is where some viewers have problems with Community. The characters don’t always seem to be characters so much as they are characters about characters. Pierce isn’t just a curmudgeonly old man; he is also a representation of a curmudgeonly old man. To go back to the Simpson’s example, yes that show mocks both sitcoms and itself, but, in the end, Homer and the family are loving characters whose warmth overpowers the satirical bite.

Community’s characters never soften to that degree. Well, that’s not quite true. They do, but it’s in the service of commentary on the softening, rendering it cold again. Really, every time you look at any moment on Community, you see how it’s both a legitimate moment, and a commentary on that type of moment in a sitcom. It’s an endless back and forth of meaning and sentiment. While the Simpsons will put the analysis aside for a genuine, heartfelt moment, the heartfelt moments in Community always serve multiple purposes.

As a result, the show can often seem emotionally remote, which of course there’s nothing wrong with. Seinfeld enjoyed quite a bit of success with a similar aesthetic. For whatever reason, however, Seinfeld broke through in a way that Community hasn’t. Again, I think it’s that, despite Seinfeld’s coarseness, it’s still a show with characters, while Community is a show about characters. There is always one intellectual step of removal with Community that I don’t think any other show, no mater how post-modern, has achieved to date. You can never really let go, while watching Community, and the result is that it makes your head swim.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Community is a sitcom about college, and is practically a college course on the sitcom itself. I do believe that the buzz on the show has reached such a fever pitch that we’re very likely to see another year for it. And that’s just about right. A four-year show about a four-year college. The structure is such a delicate balance between storytelling and commenting on storytelling that it could prove impossible to sustain for much longer before toppling over into its own self-reflexive black hole. I doubt it’ll ever be a huge hit, but I do believe it will live a long life beyond its run, Arrested Development style. I think there’s something appropriate about that. A show about itself, living on, and on, both attracting and repelling new audiences for decades to come.

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