Welcome to a new Sitcom Tuesday, on a Wednesday! This week, I’m starting my coverage of The New Adventures Of Old Christine (2006-2010, CBS), which is currently available, as of this writing, on DVD and Amazon Prime. Stream the show here.
The New Adventures Of Old Christine stars JULIA LOUIS-DREYFUS as Old Christine, CLARK GREGG as Richard, HAMISH LINKLATER as Matthew, EMILY RUTHERFURD as New Christine, and TREVOR GAGNON as Ritchie. With TRICIA O’KELLEY and ALEX KAPP HORNER as the Meanie Moms, and WANDA SYKES as Barb.
Ahead of 30 Rock, I have decided to slot in a quick look at The New Adventures Of Old Christine, which was voted in by readers last year. Personally, I don’t think it’s an A-tier sitcom; there’s nothing brilliant or special about its design or how it exists in written practice. But it’s very watchable because of Julia Louis-Dreyfus, one of the funniest sitcom ladies of all time. She makes everything worthwhile – in the same way Lucille Ball makes watching her later shows worthwhile. Oh, Old Christine is not as rough or embarrassing as Here’s Lucy could be (not to mention Life With Lucy), but it’s a bit like The Lucy Show, which lacked the guaranteed excellence and therefore influential cachet of I Love Lucy (whose analog here would be Seinfeld) yet still proved to be a reliable venue to showcase its star. Of course, Ball wasn’t as lucky; after Old Christine, Louis-Dreyfus went on to the even more impressive Veep, one of the winningest (and most enjoyable) ambassadors of the genre’s evolved sensibilities in the 2010s as a high-concept single-cam cable comedy with an anti-heroic character in a more literally realistic world. Existing as a successful endeavor in between Seinfeld and Veep, two flashier and better regarded series, Old Christine has been overshadowed in the 15 years since it ended, for it wasn’t strong enough to make an impact within the genre like the former did and it isn’t as perfect a sample of its era as the latter. But it is the vehicle that formally broke the so-called “Seinfeld Curse” for that show’s four leads – including Louis-Dreyfus herself, who had failed a few years prior with her first attempted sitcom comeback, the high-concept and somewhat gimmicky Watching Ellie. This time, she went back to a more traditional multi-cam aesthetic (just as multi-cams needed a boost), with a premise created and helmed for its entire duration by Kari Lizer, a former Will & Grace scribe who crafted a semi-autobiographical situation about a single mom coparenting her kid with an ex-husband who’s moved onto a new relationship. There’s not really any new ground here – heck, it sounds like a variation of 2001’s Reba, but with a heavier rom-com dating component that was more affiliated with mainstream network tastes of the time and compatible with other CBS Monday night rom-coms like Two And A Half Men.
The biggest design specificity in Old Christine is the more individualized, higher concept wrinkle suggested by its title: the lead’s ex-husband has moved on with a younger woman who also shares her first name, thereby rendering her the Old Christine. That’s a one-joke reveal that loses a lot of comedic novelty after the pilot (and increasingly thereafter) and obviously can’t yield much by itself in story. We know Lizer and company can’t come up with 100 episodic plots meaningfully predicated on the setup that the lead’s ex is dating a lady also called Christine. That’s just a gag! But because the existence of a new Christine, in contrast to the other Christine, is part of the premise as promised by the title, it has to be addressed regularly for simple situation satisfaction. How the show does this, and the success of its efforts, varies throughout the run. Early seasons try hardest to keep this premise explicit, sometimes even implying romantic tension between Christine and Richard, her ex, which enables a sort of love triangle possibility that keeps the two Christines in proximity as rivals, validating the title’s distinction in a literal context: the old one vs. the new one (even as the show consciously makes New Christine deferential). This seldom is great – not only are Richard and New Christine captive in this construct to idea-led interests that prevent them from blossoming into distinct, detailed characters, but a lot of this rom-com back and forth is clichéd and disappointing in general, subjugating more interesting and original prospects to the demands of formulaic soapy setups that only emphasize how this sitcom is otherwise less conceptually fresh, as a whole, than many of this era’s better efforts, which either don’t need an “old Christine”-like hook to communicate distinction or have one that’s better applied and ultimately more fruitful within story… And yet, despite being a jokey gimmick that’s narratively limiting on its own literal terms, this wrinkle is more workable than it may seem at first blush, for it’s actually hinged on relationships between regulars inside the main cast, which means the show is theoretically situating character dynamics as the premise itself. In other words, this flashy high-concept wrinkle essentially belies the truth that Old Christine is fundamentally low concept regardless – it’s about the people inside the situation, more than the initial humor of the gaudy same-name contrivance.
Accordingly, Old Christine works better when it’s playing to its premise in ways that we could define as more “low concept” – i.e., when it’s more about the characters, and not the idea-based gimmick or the narrative maneuvers necessary to keep that idea explicitly engaged. That is, the premise is better satisfied less literally, through elements extrapolated from the title and the central comic predicament presented in the pilot – namely, Christine’s embarrassment and the social humiliation of feeling literally replaced, reflected in the kind of embarrassment and social humiliation she experiences in uncomfortable scenarios throughout the series’ run, many of which will involve her own romantic trials and tribulations, exacerbated by the fact that she’s a single mom post-forty and thus comparatively “old.” The last part of that – about the dating foibles of a single woman of a certain age, even as a divorced mom, is not exactly fresh or novel either. Since Mary Richards in the 1970s, single characters, and increasingly older, even divorced, ones, have anchored sitcoms in stories about their episodic romantic pursuits. Again, there’s little new about that here, and frankly, when Old Christine leans too hard on that element of its identity, with or without direct involvement from Richard and New Christine, the show can feel hacky and unimaginative, especially if/when the ideas are not well-predicated on specifics about the Christine character. (On paper, isn’t Christine just Alan Harper of Two And A Half Men – a divorced parent living with her brother in Southern California, while her ex has moved on and she struggles to find a new partner? That’s but one comparison that speaks to its essential ubiquity – you can look everywhere from Ann Romano to Cybill Sheridan and see shared attributes.) So, attempting to play up the eponymous “New Adventures Of Old Christine” premise merely by focusing on the low-concept log line of its lead being back in the dating scene as a middle-aged, or old, woman may be situation satisfaction on elemental terms also, but its relative familiarity and lack of inspiration – again, with or without the gimmicky “New Christine” hook – means that, unless the show can attach its ideas to other individual elements within the situation, like details in Christine’s actual personality, it’s going to be mediocre sitcommery.
As with all low-concept shows, its utilization of character most determines whether an episode works as a matter of decent situation comedy. The most reliable template – extrapolated from the premise – is creating ways for Christine to be humiliated and embarrassed like she is within the high-concept situation, navigating episodic scenarios where she’s made similarly uncomfortable, often by, or at least complicated by, her own actions. Now, okay, this genre has always thrived on human discomfort, but it’s been quite popular post-Seinfeld, which spotlighted heightened but everyday social tensions – the basis for the kind of humor seen in the 2000s’ direct descendent, Curb Your Enthusiasm, on which Dreyfus even appeared during Old Christine, reinforcing a link to the original connective tissue they both share: Seinfeld. Such fare is also not dissimilar to the kind of awkward cringe comedy seen on The Office – only without the layers of self-awareness, or lack thereof, as communicated by a mockumentary framing – for we too are made to cringe when Christine squirms. Meanwhile, though a lot of this discomfort is channeled through rom-com dating stories that, as mentioned, may not be so fresh or precise, the show actually does have another aspect of its identity where it can more successfully situate plots that play to this tangential understanding of its premise: the school. Here, at an uppity private institution where Christine has toiled to send her son, she is a fish out of water and regularly uncomfortable, for she’s not as economically well off as the other mothers and lacks their same suburban polish, which is personified by two “Meanie Moms” who constantly antagonize Christine with their judgment and scorn. In this arena, the show can play Christine’s premised embarrassment of not only being a divorced mom without the financial resources of her peers, but also the social humiliation of being a divorced mom whose ex has also chosen to date someone much younger who otherwise would be a better fit in this clique (and even shares her name!), all without needing the trite rom-com narrative prism that emphasizes the positional rigidity of the Richard and New Christine characters or the tiredness of this format and its ideas. In other words, the school is the best place to deliver situation comedy that’s original to the series and therefore feels more directly earned by its individual attributes.
To that point, the presence of the school and everything it invites also provides guidance and insight to the Christine character, allowing us to see how she can best be used, and thereby creating a framework for recognizing when the show is letting her down — failing the basic low-concept character tenets most determining its situation comedy success, particularly given that she’s the nucleus. Specifically, Christine’s willingness to put up with her discomfort at the school, and all the antagonism she faces there – beyond just her ex – reveals her instinct to put the needs of her son first and give him the best she can, elevating him at her own expense. This is the primary difference, you’ll note, between Christine and Elaine from Seinfeld: Christine is typically well-intentioned and can be altruistic, and though she has the same comic bent towards neuroticism and the tacit self-involvement Julia Louis-Dreyfus naturally instills in all her work, Christine’s core desire to be a good person and do right by others around her is a distinction that makes her more emotionally nuanced and grounded in sympathetic human truth than the selfish and vindictive version of Elaine that existed on Seinfeld for so much of that series’ run (or the viciously phony and totally self-serving Selina from Veep). The ideal conflict for Christine, then, is one where she’s driven by a noble aim – trying to do some good – but runs into failure, either because of her own misfortune-accelerating awkwardness or the things we understand about her social and economic status, not to mention other premised particulars, like her relationship with her ex and his new lover, which we understand to be emotionally thorny. When a story has her pursuing her own self-interest exclusively or driven to do harm to someone else, or even merely coming undone through heightened levels of imbecility and impulsivity, the differences between Elaine and Christine shrink – making Old Christine seem like an even less distinct and more secondary enterprise than it already is – and there’s a contradiction for the central characterization as premised, as her self-sacrifice for people she loves is an essential part of her being. When that’s undermined, the situation gets further out of grasp, for she can no longer be humiliated as per the Old Christine title’s implication once her emotional IQ is too skewed, corrupting both her and her show’s specificity.
That’s not to say making Christine responsible for her problems is unadvised. On the contrary! One of the things that most separates Old Christine from, say, Reba, is that its lead is not playing a reactive straight man and is instead a fully active and present comic force, showcasing the immense talents of Julia Louis-Dreyfus, this show’s main attraction and, ideally, the springboard for most of its laughs and story. It’s appropriate that she drives the comedic exploration of the situation. The key for Old Christine is just maintaining a specific and motivated link between her characterization and her usage in plot, which we want to be earned and premise-affirming. And, unfortunately, this show has a tendency to become overly broad there, going for bigger, jokier stories that evaporate nuances in the Christine character when she’s forced to propel a wider variety of less tailored-to-her-situation ideas. What’s more, with former Seinfeld scribe Jennifer Crittenden assuming a co-EP role in Seasons Two and Three, Christine’s drift towards Elaine Benes’ selfishness and aggression is all but guaranteed – an anti-premise take on this character that’s never fully eradicated and then gets worse in Season Five, when a 30 Rock staffer joins the team and seems to lead an acceleration of Christine’s personal chaos, further broadening her out into a catch-all for comic mania. As the humiliated becomes the humiliating, this naturally follows a trend towards less intelligence and less emotional truth – an unmotivated creep towards a bigger and broader character overall, not as rooted in the literal realism of the first season and this premise. Now, okay, this happens in every sitcom to some extent, and a little of it may goose yuks. However, a too-loosening grip makes the show less precise with its characters and thus less commendable on the low-concept turf on which it must play to satisfy its premise, given that its high-concept wrinkle can’t meaningfully spark much story if regarded as anything other than a low-concept implication. And making Christine merely more of a chaotic, often hostile and self-obsessed mess – like late-stages Elaine – just feels lazy, without the same Seinfeld-ian good ideas to show for it. Additionally, this shift begins too early – in Season Two – so the series’ results are therefore hit-and-miss from then on, making Old Christine’s work with its central character, and ultimate value as a sitcom, far too hit-and-miss as well.
Indeed, beyond its relative genericness, the fact that it’s not often as great for its title character as it should be – the only figure in the main cast who has more than cursory comic shape – is the reason Old Christine can’t be considered an A-tier sitcom. At its best it’s B-tier – and yes, there are funny episodes every season, with most of them existing within the first three, where every aspect of the situation is more novel, and the Christine character has not yet degraded and diluted as much as she will in the years following. Also, like The Lucy Show for Lucille Ball, it is usually worthwhile as a simple showcase for Julia Louis-Dreyfus, one of the funniest performers to ever exist in this medium — someone who improves mediocre material and can make foolishness fun, even when we know it isn’t right for her character and/or the premise. Old Christine at least features her well (mostly), finding opportunities for its star to shine, thanks to scribes from some of the best multi-cams of the prior ten years – led by Kari Lizer of Will & Grace, who ensures an admirable commitment to the genre’s comic obligation. That is, it’s always aiming to yield hahas. I appreciate that. And as far as other multi-cams from this era go, while it isn’t as smartly designed for the same amount of textbook-definition situation comedy as Two And A Half Men is, and it lacks both the unique voice of How I Met Your Mother and the genuinely smart, high-caliber writing of Out Of Practice (the best new multi-cam of 2005-2006 in terms of sheer text), it’s got something that supersedes all others: Julia Louis-Dreyfus. She is sublime enough to make me want to watch Old Christine over them all, and because her show was good enough in its first season to respect, but also mediocre enough in some ways to recognize just how much her presence alone was elevating it, her comeback was widely viewed as triumphant. (The TV Academy even gave her an Emmy Award for this season.) And I get it – that’s why I’m covering the series in the first place. Sure, there are other funny people in the cast – for instance, Dreyfus has easy chemistry with Hamish Linklater as Christine’s brother and a natural rapport with Wanda Sykes as her best friend (they’re both amusing; their innately comedic personal styles compensate for otherwise thin definitions). But it’s all about her though, and rightfully so — Old Christine is mediocre, but Reliable Julia is terrific.
As for where Season One stands in relation to the rest of the run, it’s the year where the situation is most novel. This is good and bad. It’s bad when involving Richard and New Christine, who are most confined as characters here in this initial construct where they’re forced to explicitly address the one-joke notion of the “same name” premised wrinkle. It’s good, however, when there are fresh and more personalized stories mining the premise’s other implications about Christine, particularly those set at the school, where she’s most primed to be a sympathetic figure subject to humiliation, some of it exacerbated by her own hand. Plus, she hasn’t yet broadened out and become more like the knock-off Elaine that suggests lazy sitcommery and pushes out the situation. In that regard, the best premise-specific situation comedy is here, with her as-designed character in support… On the other hand, the series also benefits when it moves away from the double Christine triangle that traps them all in a clichéd construct, and this year has a lot of that. Furthermore, Linklater and Sykes increase in prominence in Two, and they’re additive with laughs, giving the star more off which to play. In fact, the show becomes funnier en masse as a sophomore, and this uptick in humor, though the result of broadening via some unearned shifts within the central character that are unideal, also comes about alongside an interpretation of the title that’s, overall, less literal than in One. Oh, Two still plays with “old” vs. “new” more than any year ahead does, but it’s a step closer to a version of Old Christine that recognizes itself as more appropriately low-concept than high-concept… Of course, Two’s already unmotivated changes in the main character, I reiterate, can’t be celebrated either, making it tough to say that Two is an improvement over One. Instead, what I can say, is no season is perfectly calibrated but the first three are decent – One is the purest for both better and worse, and Two and Three are funnier though not written as well as a situation comedy… Still, every week my job is the same; I’ll be looking to spotlight the episodes that best comedically explore the situation, which mainly means humiliating Christine in accordance with the Old Christine title’s implied indignity, and with a characterization that makes sense based on this premise, spotlighting its raison d’être – Julia Louis-Dreyfus – in the process.
01) Episode 2: “Supertramp” (Aired: 03/13/06)
Christine picks up a man for the first time since her divorce.
Written by Jeff Astrof | Directed by Andy Ackerman
Julia Louis-Dreyfus won her first post-Seinfeld Emmy for her work in this installment, which I’ve chosen to represent this season as its Most Valuable Episode (MVE) — mostly because it is this collection’s best showcase for its star, as that’s ultimately the primary objective of The New Adventures Of Old Christine in its entirety. In terms of this story, I appreciate that it’s the first example of a seemingly clichéd dating template — the divorced woman getting back out there and finding it rough — but it’s fresher and funnier than most later showings, not because it’s sparked by a literal interpretation of the premise (with Christine being jealous of Richard and his new girlfriend) that’s nevertheless an accurate reflection of the kind of storytelling we see here a lot in Season One in particular, but also because the whole idea is then well-connected to the school, the venue where Christine is most frequently and potently humiliated, given the social pressures personified by the Meanie Moms who judge her for not being their equal. (Her divorce is one of the major reasons why.) Additionally, the casting of the hilarious Andy Richter as her chosen conquest — who she soon learns has been aptly titled “Sad Dad” when their run-in at school yields the precise kind of social embarrassment that’s premise-corroborating for her character — further elevates the half hour, making for a winning combination of scripting and performance that depicts Old Christine as, frankly, better than it will typically be. And with Louis-Dreyfus in all her glory as Christine, the socially discomforted single mom who’s a magnet for awkward encounters, this is a winning sample for both the star, and by proxy, the series.
02) Episode 4: “One Toe Over The Line, Sweet Jesus” (Aired: 03/27/06)
Christine and her new boyfriend double date with Richard and New Christine.
Written by Adam Barr | Directed by Andy Ackerman
Even in this first season where Old Christine is most locked into its premise, with a depiction of Christine that’s most tailored for it, there are things that keep the show from being fully great. Among them is an arc where Christine dates Burton — her first serious relationship post-Richard that emphasizes the situation’s inexorable rom-com bent, which is less funny or fresh than other aspects of the series’ design, especially when upheld by bland, undefined straight men like Burton. For that reason, I don’t like many of the outings in this arc — but this one is the best, enlivened by a funny teleplay and a comedically memorable climax when Richard, who is clearly jealous of Burton, accidentally runs over Burton’s toe with his car. It’s a notion that emphasizes the high-concept wrinkle’s inevitable triangular structure — as Richard implies lingering feelings for Christine, a rom-com conceit that reverses the typical format (where the two women are positioned by their shared name as rivals for the affection of the person between them) but is similarly confining to all their depictions, guiding comic patterns toward clichés… And yet, in presenting a variation that’s funnier and less literal than most in this subcategory, it’s a better-than-baseline sample of this huge aspect of the series’ identity.
03) Episode 6: “The Other F Word” (Aired: 04/10/06)
Christine tries to get a Black family admitted to Ritchie’s school.
Written by Jeff Astrof | Directed by Andy Ackerman
This offering boasts a textbook display of the Christine characterization as suggested by the premise and established in Season One, prior to the broadening that drifts her closer to Elaine and the funnier but less specific mania that follows. Its story is sparked by Christine’s efforts to do what she thinks is right — help get more diversity into the school — and then complicated by shortcomings that make sense for her depiction, as her clumsy naiveté leads her to making false assumptions based on skin color alone. That is, she regrets her righteous crusade when she learns that the Black family whom she sponsored is homophobic, confirming to us that her do-gooding, while well-intentioned (and not self-serving or cynical, as Elaine or Selina would be), is shallower and more vacuous, less researched than it should be — a flaw that doesn’t condemn her, but allows her some nuance, and makes her a sympathetic figure who nevertheless can be culpable for her own social humiliations, which she recognizes here upon realizing her mistake. So, this is a fine exploration of the Christine character — a formative text that later seasons will, I believe, use as an excuse to broaden her out into an eventually premise-rejecting extreme.
04) Episode 8: “Teach Your Children Well” (Aired: 04/24/06)
Christine decides to throw a cheap birthday party for Ritchie.
Written by Katie Palmer | Directed by Andy Ackerman
This isn’t among One’s funniest selections — mainly because the big centerpiece of Christine speaking in front of Ritchie’s class and urging them to stop calling him by his new nickname “Poor Kid,” doesn’t yield the same kind of social humiliation for her that occurs when she’s around adults whom she otherwise wants to impress, like the Meanie Moms. However, this excursion makes my list because it has the right idea prior to that — as Christine’s plan to throw a party for Ritchie with the goal of proving to all the parents that they don’t have to spend a bunch of money to make their kids happy accentuates the characteristics separating her from their uppity private school world, with the tension stemming from her facing their judgement head on… and not trying to put on airs, as someone like Elaine or Selina would do. Rather, she wants to make a noble point — before realizing that it was at Ritchie’s expense: an interesting conflict that uses her character in a nuanced way, all while being well supported by the situation.
05) Episode 12: “Some Of My Best Friends Are Portuguese” (Aired: 05/22/06)
Christine befriends a woman who she learns is a housekeeper to one of the Meanie Moms.
Teleplay by Steve Baldikoski & Bryan Behar | Story by Katie Palmer | Directed by Andy Ackerman
A hilarious entry, and my only other MVE contender, this is another smart exhibition of the first year’s well-defined Christine character, with a story supported by a low-concept understanding of the premise that roots itself in the social indignity Christine willingly endures for the sake of other people about whom she cares — particularly Ritchie, who she knows benefits by being at this school, even as she suffers. It’s also an unpredictable laugh riot, as Christine — whose social clumsiness and lack of financial resources are reiterated, but not exaggeratedly so — befriends a Portuguese woman (Ana Ortiz) at school before realizing that she’s a housekeeper… for Marly, one of the Meanie Moms. Now, Christine, a genuinely good person, doesn’t want to drop her new pal just because she’s uncomfortable by this association (which calls attention to the fact that Christine is not in the same class as the other moms), so to prove her loyalty she’ll even help her friend serve them — a humiliating experience that again reinforces her basic decency, as she altruistically subjects herself to discomfort… That is, until she learns that her new friend isn’t so good herself — a shocking reveal that enables a surprisingly human moment between Christine and Marly, which makes them both feel realer, again preferring a specific characterization for Christine that is distinct from the other major sitcom roles in Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ career, and proof that Old Christine, though not in their class either, does have the capacity for genuine, and genuinely fine, sitcommery in its own right.
Other notable episodes that merit mention include: “Open Water,” the first of the series’ many generic rom-com showings, “A Long Day’s Journey Into Stan,” where Sad Dad returns and Christine is appropriately embarrassed when she goes out to a restaurant alone following her split from Burton, and “No Fault Divorce,” which includes character-building intel, including flashbacks, about Christine and Richard’s relationship. Meanwhile, some of the other entries this year that involve the premise’s high-concept wrinkle more explicitly (like the “Pilot” and the deliberately reiterative “Ritchie Has Two Mommies”) are valid sitcommery, but they prove its one-joke limitations with regard to character, so they’re not favorites.
*** The MVE Award for the Best Episode from Season One of The New Adventures Of Old Christine goes to…
“Supertramp”
Come back next week for Season Two and a new Wildcard Wednesday!