Hearts and Minds
by Alison Wielgus
If someone had told me over the summer that my favorite show of the television season would be Friday Night Lights, I would have laughed them off. My argument would have been this: how could I possibly love Friday Night Lights more than Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? Friday Nights Lights is based on a book I’ve never read and a movie I was not that enthusiastic about, while Studio 60 comes from the creative minds of Aaron Sorkin and Tommy Schlamme, the men responsible for Sports Night and The West Wing, two of my favorite shows. But after five episodes into each of the series I’m willing to say that Friday Night Lights is by far the superior show, for many reasons.
Friday Night Lights, as many reviewers have noted, is an incredibly insightful and interesting show. It depicts the fictional town of Dillon, Texas, a washed-up oil town where football dominates everyone’s lives. The town bases its entire existence on high school football – business shut down for Friday night games that have upwards of 15,000 people attending them, girls follow their boyfriends to the colleges they are recruited to, and everyone, even the mayor, has an opinion on the coach. The series focuses on a variety of characters: Coach Taylor, in his first year as head coach; Jason Street, the golden boy quarterback; Matt Saracen, the shy, awkward backup QB; Lyla, Jason’s cheerleader girlfriend; and many others. A football game is shown every few weeks, in all the glorious sports film clichés we’ve become accustomed to.
What sets Friday Night Lights apart from other series are amazing performances, a solid production design, and a nuanced depiction of the town. When Street is injured in the first game (a life-shattering injury resulting in his legs being paralyzed), the show gives us all the details, as his helmet is cut off in the emergency room, as he struggles to come to terms with the injury, and as his face lights up as he realizes that he might be able to play quad rugby (the sport of the documentary Murderball). The show is shot with handheld characters, which results in a shaky effect, but also allows the directors to pick up on the smallest details, like the tapping of a grandmother’s Payless sandal or the photo of a father in the Iraq war, the only reminder of his absence. Religion is also fully integrated into the town life, with prayer before and after the football games, but isn’t commented upon, treated with condescension, or foisted onto the audience. It’s simply a part of the town’s life and the representation of the town wouldn’t be complete without it.
This is a direct contrast to the treatment of religion on Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. The show, which is about a fictional comedy sketch show that is exactly like Saturday Night Live, brings on two new writers, Danny and Matt, to increase its quality. Instead of being a fun look at the behind the scenes action of producing a live show (which is what Sports Night was), it is preachy and pretentious. The characters spend a bulk of their time insulting the quality of other network television shows, which is a little silly to do in the age of The Office and Veronica Mars, and talk about the “importance” of comedy in society, which is a problem when the sketches they create are not even very funny.
The treatment of the one Christian character on Studio 60 is also strange. Harriet (Sarah Paulson) is presumably the only Christian on the cast and is a southern Baptist. Harriet often makes jokes about her faith, saying that she’s the only one who is going to be saved. The show even goes as far as to show her leading a prayer circle. The problem of her being on a show that constantly mocks Christian values is never really explained, and the choice to make her character a Christian seems to be a cheap device to give her depth without really exploring her character.
Studio 60 also looks down on people who do not understand the importance of sketch comedy. Take the episode where Tom (Nate Corddry), one of the actors, takes his parents around the studio after the show. The parents are from the Midwest and have no clue about how much money their son earns, his job, or Hollywood comedy in general. I can understand someone not being intimately accustomed with the Hollywood Ten, or up to date on the blacklist, but his parents have also never heard of Abbott and Costello or their “Who’s On First?” sketch. These ignorant parents are simply treated with condescension and are caricatures through which the audience is supposed to be able to look at and think “Wow, I’m glad I know so much more about quality comedy than these people.”
This attitude permeates throughout the entire show, and it’s the exact opposite attitude from what is shown on Friday Night Lights. In Friday Night Lights, football is a religion for these characters, but is never supposed to be for us. Other characters can mock its importance while still being wrapped up in the games, and characters are called out when they allow football to completely dominate their existence. Meanwhile, on Studio 60, anyone who does not understand the importance of comedy is instantly treated like a second class citizen. Comedy works when it isn’t preachy. That’s not to say that comedy can’t be a valuable commentary on society; anyone who has seen the film Borat will tell you that there’s incredibly sophisticated and important commentary in that film. Studio 60 aims for your brain and misses your heart, while Friday Night Lights aims for your heart and hits it and your brain dead on. In television, that’s a rare occurrence.
