Welcome to a new Wildcard Wednesday! This week, I’m beginning our coverage of a woefully underrated three-season sitcom from the early 2000s called Titus (2000-2002, FOX), which is currently available, as of this writing, on DVD and YouTube.

Titus stars CHRISTOPHER TITUS as Christopher, CYNTHIA WATROS as Erin, ZACK WARD as Dave, DAVID SHATRAW as Tommy, and STACY KEACH as Ken.

Over the course of this blog, I’ve learned that there’s a hard-to-avoid “blind spot” in most sitcom studies, including my own. It consists of shows that didn’t last long enough to be considered obvious hits or important efforts, but too long to be remembered as short-lived gems or single-season curios. These series typically ran for either three or four years (or even two full years) — making them too much of a commitment for a Wildcard Wednesday, but not quite substantial enough in our collective conscious to be ideal options for Sitcom Tuesday. A show like Titus, which managed two-and-a-half seasons, is a great example, and I’m forcing it out of our “blind spot,” for it’s actually a very special, enjoyable sitcom with a handful of terrific half-hour samples that I needed in my public record of favorites. So, I’ll be spending this week’s Wildcard, and the next two, discussing the series and highlighting my picks for its best entries. Now, for those who are unfamiliar with Titus, or haven’t seen it in a while, it’s both available on DVD and uploaded (as of this writing) onto YouTube, but I’ll describe it briefly. It’s a semi-autobiographical sitcom co-created and shepherded by standup comic Christopher Titus, who based the premise on his real-life experiences, and specifically, his dysfunctional family — which included a harsh, hard-living father and a mentally ill mother. The regular cast is comprised of himself, the eponymous lead who works as a mechanic; his spacey half-brother; his fussy friend; his equally dysfunctional girlfriend; and his gruff dad. Taking its title from the star’s last name, Titus feels very much in the Seinfeld tradition, not just because it’s a multi-cam built around a standup with a cast of characters who are allowed to be flawed and unlikable, but also because it’s punctuated by wraparound segments where the anchor comments on the action — not in the form of a standup set like on Seinfeld; rather, from direct-to-camera addresses that occur in what the show refers to as “neutral space,” from which Christopher gives added context to the regulars and their relationships, often via cutaways to flashbacks or quick fantasy sequences.

This gimmick may be familiar, using frequent interjections and jokey inserts in the same way popular early 2000s single-cams like, say, Malcolm In The Middle and Arrested Development would do, to much acclaim. (And this is an old tradition — heck, George Burns had to-camera asides!) But it’s expertly and therefore somewhat freshly applied here — fostering a sensibility that’s fluid, fast-paced, and in this case, character-enlightening and identity-corroborating, enlivening the proceedings by increasing the humor and punctuating the action without disrupting it… Speaking of which, these moments — Christopher’s “neutral space” cut-ins — are applied to an otherwise straightforward live audience multi-camera sitcom that embraces the unique charms of its format by existing, almost always, on limited sets with limited characters. Nearly every episode plays out its main action on a singular set: the house, the garage, a car, etc. — and sometimes in real-time or close to real-time. It’s thus very theatrical — the kind of theatricality that once belonged to Seinfeld, whose “where does a comedian get his material?” premise initially invited an everyday, trivial simplicity (before it became enamored of arranging those trivial narrative notions in a Jenga-like tower of plot-propelled mania). Naturally, as someone who loves the multi-camera setup for its forced simplicity, which typically insists there be a focus on characters in relation to each other (thereby minimizing the chances for cumbersome, unmotivated story beats) as a result of the inherent demands of staging something like a play, on few sets and before an audience (which also incentivizes actual comedy), I love that Titus not only recognizes this setup’s intrinsic value, but also that it’s paired with those aforementioned cutaways to the “neutral space” and the flashbacks/fantasies that Christopher narrates. It’s a blending of traditionalism with creativity — resembling devices employed by many critically lauded single-cams of the 2000s, while also rooting itself in the rich, special opportunities that this genre and its associated ethos best offers by way of character and comedy.

Meanwhile, though Titus very much exists in a post-Seinfeld world with its instilled cynicism about the human condition, another classic point of reference is All In The Family, or more generally, the works of Norman Lear, whose sitcoms were also theatrically presented, staged with few sets and few characters, using scripts heavy on familial conflict and exaggerated but relatable dysfunction. Titus is also similarly idea-driven — it requires certain types of stories, and the strength of its chosen loglines are what most succinctly determines success. On most Lear shows, ideal plots were topical, inviting sociopolitical debates that could be reflected through the regulars and their relationships. On Seinfeld, which was idea-driven as well, the ideas had to be both funny and trivial — minutia-based detail-oriented annoyances (in accordance with the material in Jerry’s act: everyday life, heightened). For Titus, the right idea is one that corroborates the situation — the dysfunction stemming from the trauma most of these leads have experienced in their families — along with the tonal edginess, the grit, the “life’s tough” anti-gloss that assumes a large part of the series’ identity. So, as with many shows in this vein (like early John Larroquette), Titus can be dark, depressing, and sometimes even dramatic… But like the best of Norman Lear’s efforts (namely, All In The Family), these ideas are also supported by the characters and their specific relational dynamics. Principally, the tension between Christopher and his dad, played by Stacy Keach, is the linchpin of the series and inspires its best episodes. (Keach is the MVP!) And more than anything else, Titus is incredibly funny. In fact, most of the episodes I’m spotlighting are truly hilarious — especially the three from this first season (which consisted of nine total); they’re some of the best of the entire run, as the network’s censoring hand is less felt. That is, One has more freedom to shock and rebel than late Two and all of Three, by which time the show smooths out some of its rough edges and is having to work harder to textually earn its tonality. Here, the idea-driven but character-backed Titus is still narratively novel and much bolder at comedically communicating itself, so I’m thrilled to finally be featuring the series — it’s a gem that’s too good to stay in our “blind spot.”

 

01) Episode 2: “Dad’s Dead” (Aired: 03/27/00)

Christopher and Dave worry that their dad has died.

Written by Christopher Titus & Jack Kenny & Brian Hargrove | Directed by Michael Lessac

You’ll often see this cited as the first entry; that’s because it was produced and intended to air as the premiere, but the FOX network, always jittery about this series, pushed it to the second week in favor of a less audaciously grim and rebellious debut. That was a foolish decision, for this is one of those near-perfect series-establishers, introducing all the leads, their relationships, and the show’s basic premise, along with the tonal identity that constitutes a large part of its total situation. The story is appropriately dark — Christopher and his half-brother worry that their dad is dead because he hasn’t left his room in days — and the script provides many opportunities for character-illuminating flashbacks (the “Wussy” nickname starts here), granting us a window into the series’ regular operations, with “neutral space” insights, quick cutaways, and action that otherwise takes place entirely inside the father’s house. It’s well done — one of Titus’ seminal samples and, by its rightness, my choice for MVE (Most Valuable Episode).

02) Episode 8: “Intervention” (Aired: 05/15/00)

Christopher and his friends try to get Ken to resume drinking.

Written by Adam Belanoff | Directed by David Lee

Boasting an inherently comedic idea that also validates the series’ identity, this installment is another of Titus’ greatest, predicating its story on the father-son dynamic between Christopher and Ken, the latter of whom has become nicer to everyone now that he’s stopped drinking. Ever the dysfunctional group, Christopher and his friends are unable to cope with this major change in Ken’s behavior, so they have an intervention to get him to return to alcohol. And when he does, he reminds us of the scoundrel that he’s always been, turning the other characters on each other in a wonderful ensemble-focused script that not only helps build the regulars’ depictions, but also does so in a way that is revealing for this series and its specific situation.

03) Episode 9: “Episode Eleven” (Aired: 05/22/00)

Ken lies to Christopher about the cause of his car accident.

Written by Christopher Titus | Directed by Brian Hargrove

Season One’s finale was allegedly based on a true story; in this telling, Christopher’s father gets into a car accident and claims to have had a heart attack (he’s a chronic heart attack-haver) to cover for the real reason, which is that he was involved in a sexual exploit that distracted him. Of course, Ken guilts Christopher by blaming his “heart attack” on added familial stress — the kind of emotional manipulation that speaks to the lingering dysfunction and childhood trauma that inspires the series’ tonal identity, fueling its chosen storytelling. It’s therefore delicious when Christopher discovers the truth and decides to get back at his dad by pushing him into an unnecessary surgery, and even though the offering ends on a dramatic cliffhanger that most sitcoms wouldn’t be able to pull off, it’s in the spirit of this show’s ethos, so it’s fitting.

 

Other notable episodes that merit mention include: “Mom’s Not Nuts,” which introduces Christopher’s violent and mentally ill mother Juanita (played here by Christine Estabrook; she’ll be recast each season, which reflects the idea that she has multiple personalities), along with “Dave Moves Out,” which fleshes out the relationship between Christopher, his dad, and his half-brother even further, and “The Breakup,” a show that reveals the Christopher/Erin romance to also be influenced by the characters’ own dysfunction, as they split and both sleep with other people — a story point that plays into the show’s intentional rebellion and will actually have narrative ramifications next season. All three are great!

 

*** The MVE Award for the Best Episode from Season One of Titus goes to…

“Dad’s Dead”

 

 

Come back next week for Season Two of Titus and Season Ten of Two And A Half Men!