Welcome to a new Sitcom Tuesday! This week, I’m beginning my look at The Big Bang Theory (2007-2019, CBS), which is currently available on DVD/Blu-Ray and streaming!

The Big Bang Theory stars JOHNNY GALECKI as Leonard, KALEY CUOCO as Penny, SIMON HELBERG as Howard, KUNAL NAYYAR as Raj, and JIM PARSONS as Sheldon.

The Big Bang Theory is the most-popular sitcom of the 2010s based on regular viewership on average. It’s a vital artifact from that decade. However, its role in the story of the sitcom in the 2010s is not as dominating, for during its twelve-season run, the entire media landscape was changing. TV was expanding out beyond the broadcast networks and even cable, with streaming platforms dramatically increasing the amount of content and thus fragmenting the marketplace in the process. This ensured that, while a show like Big Bang might be able to claim “most popular” due to its sheer accessibility, it would never be as much of a consensus hit as the top sitcoms of yore. Also, as a multi-camera show at a time when the best comedies were now single-cams, it certainly was not setting itself up to look like the freshest, most inspired, most exciting prospect either, or, frankly, an entity that could represent the state of the genre holistically. You know, the way most #1 sitcoms from previous eras could. Yes, Big Bang’s success naturally encouraged networks to keep up multi-cam production, particularly amidst the nostalgia-driven “reboot” craze of the late 2010s, but the great irony of this decade is that, despite having a multi-cam as its most-viewed sitcom, the single-cam was king now. This genre, like the television industry in its entirety, was embracing a more cinematic sensibility — deliberately rejecting the “old-fashioned” theatricality of Big Bang and the lineage from which it came. And as the leading ambassador of the multi-cam in the 2010s — not always showcasing the format at its best — Big Bang egged on this discrepancy. More and more, popularity in terms of viewership was becoming unmoored from other metrics of popularity: what was being produced, what was being praised, what was being awarded. These concepts have never been exactly synonymous, but now they could even be unrelated, for with broadcast networks maintaining the broadest reach, it was inevitable for those outlets to still have the biggest shows, based on pure numbers. The business model for entirely on-demand providers simply didn’t care — funding came from subscriptions, not ad rates. So, though Big Bang mattered a lot to traditional platforms, to the industry as a whole… well, not as much as it would have in the decades prior, when its forebears like Seinfeld and Friends ruled the day more decisively.

Discussing the 2010s here in a study of the sitcom genre is tough due to these marketplace discrepancies. The spot every show occupies in our history is now more self-contained, and my commentary on Big Bang can’t be so big-picture — especially because I’m not yet committed to covering the 2010s in any official capacity. Right now, I’m honoring my promise to look at the best shows that premiered and arose from the 2000s. Big Bang’s long run and popularity are huge credits only known because of what it did in the 2010s, but the show is most flattering in the context of the 2000s — as far as this blog is concerned, anyway. That is, its two best seasons — Two and Three — sit within the 2000s, and I deliberately separated the series’ popularity from its relevance in the 2010s because, honestly, by the time it gets to the height of its success, it’s not equipped to be one of the genre’s best. Oh, okay, during the first few years of the 2010s, it could maybe sneak onto one of my “Top Five” lists. But it’s never the best sitcom, and despite its rising popularity in the 2010s, I don’t even think it’s that era’s best multi–cam either. With a too-sculpted laugh track that doesn’t indicate the presence of its actual live-at-the-filming audience, and storytelling not often dexterous enough to avoid clichés, it’s sometimes anti-persuasive. As for the 2000s, I’d say it’s also not the best from that decade either, let alone the best multi-cam. My top honors would go to stuff like Curb Your Enthusiasm, Arrested Development, The Office, or 30 Rock, and then, for multi-cams, late 1990s carryovers like Raymond, King Of Queens, Frasier, and even Friends would earn citation first. Those are all funnier shows at a higher regular baseline (and they together represent the story of the 2000s better). However, I think Big Bang is the best new multi-cam of the 2000s – and definitely one of the best sitcoms from this decade’s end. In fact, it’s much easier to enjoy than the well-designed but often unpleasant Two And A Half Men, and it’s much more character-forward than the plot-based (and high-concept) How I Met Your Mother. And while I have a preference for Mom (that’s the best multi-cam of the 2010s), Big Bang is undeniably the crowning achievement in Chuck Lorre’s multi-cam machine, not just because it’s the most successful, but on genuine creative terms as well. Why? One word: Sheldon.

Sheldon Cooper, as designed by Lorre and Bill Prady, and then enlivened by Jim Parsons, is one of the best sitcom characters of the 21st century. Heck, simply from his unmatched durability and therefore reliability, he’s probably the best sitcom character of the 2010s – a figure so humorously well-defined that he could even inspire an entire prequel spin-off, Young Sheldon, which centered him even more explicitly and wound up succeeding Big Bang as TV’s most-watched comedy. This means the most literally popular sitcom for every season between 2010-2011 and 2023-2024 was a show whose driving point of appeal featured this one comic dynamo. That is a credit to The Big Bang Theory as a situation comedy — where Sheldon is a huge aspect of its situation and the most guaranteed source of earned big-laugh comedy as a result of his depiction and usage. If for no other reason than Sheldon Cooper — even beyond the 279-episode run or the fact that this is Lorre’s winningest sample according to his award-giving peers — Big Bang asserts itself as an important entry in the genre. It’s not unlike how the iconic Fonzie elevates the brand of Happy Days. Although, to be fair, I like Big Bang a lot more than Happy Days, mostly because of its early years, where Sheldon is a key part of a larger situation that’s more regularly explored. Let’s get into it. This show, as designed, is about four “nerds” and the “hot girl next door” who befriends them. It’s a variation on the ensemble hangout comedy, but with a more eccentric collection of leads — per a trend in the 2000s, where attempts to freshen an overly familiar construct found entries turning to oddballs as a hook (see: Committed and, from 1999, Stark Raving Mad). Another notable ancestor is 1995’s workplace-set Dweebs, which also injected a babe into a group of geeks. What both share, and early Big Bang makes clear, is that the premise of this kind of show naturally rests on the interaction between socially different, outcast, and often awkward characters – “nerds” in this case – and someone who is seen as more “normal,” or at least, more socially at ease. And the implied arc of the misfits, because of their new proximity to someone who’s unlike them, is to in turn become more socialized. It’s a version of 2000’s Trouble With Normal (another Big Bang forerunner), which was even more literally about anti-social men receiving personalized help.

For The Big Bang Theory, which features four brilliant scientists who nevertheless lack the emotional intelligence that only comes from human interaction, this premise is especially rich, for these are individuals who study the universe but don’t know how to live in it. Well, until they meet Penny, someone who obviously lives in it. She is fallible, malleable, empathetic, and quite social — very human! — and befriending her is the catalyst for this group’s successful socialization. In a thematically grander view, the show is about the guys becoming more human – that’s their arc. And that’s one of the triple entendres in the series’ title, which not only suggests a literal inciting incident, but also reinforces the nerdy nature of the guys’ collective character, and even winks — BIG BANG (get it? get it?) — to another basic fact about the series: SEX! That is, the arc of these men becoming more human will naturally be expressed through them becoming bonded to other humans – meaning, their growth is measured by their increased capacity to form strong, serious relationships. Again, it’s the arc of the anti-social becoming social. And it promises, essentially, that it’s about these men learning how to love and be loved by others — explored, of course, through what all ensemble hangout comedies with unmarried adult characters have always been concentrated on: its leads’ romantic pursuits. After all, the sitcom as a genre – whether a show is low concept or high – depends on the way its characters exist and interact in relation. For single people, what does that usually mean? It means they date. Big Bang is not just unable to avoid the inevitable fixation of its own subgenre, it also demands such a focus via its smart premised framework. This is why it makes sense, after a few years, for several female love interests to join the regular cast, turning the show into an even more traditional hangout affair, centered on co-ed relationships. Thus, The Big Bang Theory title tells us a lot – this is a show about scientists and sex (which implies human relations), launched by an initial event: the guys meeting someone who changes their status quo.

As with most art, The Big Bang Theory is a treatise on love, for in becoming human, these awkward men learn how to love and be loved – and, for the most part, it happens because of Penny. Think about it. She is Leonard’s primary love interest and serves as the connection between Howard and his. And as she helps the incredibly shy Raj (the least-developed member of the cast) get used to being around women so that he can muster up the nerve needed for real relationships, she also, most critically, teaches Sheldon how to be a good friend, and eventually a good boyfriend/husband. Essentially, she teaches Sheldon how to have empathy – to care about others. Indeed, aside from the formulaic rom-com storytelling that Leonard/Penny’s relationship enables within this ensemble hangout construct (which craves such a tentpole), the series early on discovers that its most compelling connection is actually between Penny and Sheldon. This is because they’re the most opposed. Or rather, she’s the most neutral baseline for highlighting extremes, and Sheldon naturally has the furthest to go in terms of socialization, for he is the boldest example of the socially dysfunctional character all four guys collectively embody in slight variation. They’re all versions of the “nerd” archetype — weird geniuses who lack EQ — and thus all shades of the same color, which would ordinarily exist as one hue in a regular sitcom’s color palette. While Raj is painfully bashful (especially with women), Howard, who still lives at home with his abrasive (and always off-screen) mother, has false bravado. And as the diminutive Leonard tends to minimize himself to the “regular” non-nerdy world around him because he’s most aware of the fact that he’s an oddball, Sheldon is boldly uncompromising in his views and is missing the social understanding that would enable him to bend to the world (even for his own gain). Sheldon is the most rigid – incapable of tact or, early on, much regard for anything beyond his own ego and his almighty science. Today, the show would probably be pressured into defining him on the spectrum. But, frankly, he’s merely a descendant of Felix Unger, the sitcom’s definitive example of fastidious rigidity. And he’s the most extreme version of the same type of social dysfunction that the entire group displays. Like them, he lacks shared experience with other humans and struggles to connect because of it.

Now, I’m not going to discuss Young Sheldon or anything about Sheldon’s backstory created by that show in my Big Bang coverage, unless it actually appears over here. My discussion of the great Sheldon Cooper will be confined to what feels fair to Big Bang – how Big Bang uses and defines him. Fortunately, that’s all we need to understand why he’s a great character: he’s comedically precise and therefore capable of driving story in a unique, individualized way, especially as a creator of conflict that allows everyone around him to also react in ways specific to them (ideally). This renders him reliable – comedically and narratively. At the same time, he’s also designed to evolve, which means his arc towards humanity makes him root-for-able and even lovable. And as the boldest example of what the premise is attempting to represent with its four male leads overall, he is the most potent conduit for strong situation satisfaction in both laughs and plot. As such, even though he at first seems like just one key member of the ensemble – the extreme of Leonard, who looks more well-adjusted by comparison and thus more capable of carrying on the main rom-com A-story – Sheldon quickly becomes the most effective embodiment of the series’ entire identity, both on the show and off it (via press and awards). Like Fonzie, but to a more situation-corroborating degree, Sheldon basically becomes the show. Yet I say that only in the context of the literal application of the situation. He’s not the show stylistically; Big Bang doesn’t reflect Sheldon’s style within its own. This isn’t a Frasier, where the voice of the title character not only informs his application in story but also dictates the types of stories and the way they’re told. Sure, the science-loving leads have dialogue that affirms their love of science – and, often, their respective definitions – but the tone of the show is not one with them. It’s removed – looking at the “nerds” from a sympathetic yet more “normal” or neutral space (not Penny’s, but closer to it). And the show’s sense of humor doesn’t really match Sheldon or his personality to the extent that other Lorre hits, like Two And A Half Men or Mom, came to foundationally model their boldest comic voices (Charlie and Bonnie, respectively).

I note that because for as much as I think Sheldon is a great character, and the best thing about this show, I don’t think Big Bang is a great character sitcom outside of him. In other words, the show’s strong character writing does not extend beyond his own guaranteed excellence… Okay, to be fair, everyone else I’ve described has basic definition – as do Bernadette and Amy, the future love interests who join the cast later. (Both scientists also, Bernadette mines humor from the contrast between her apparent meekness and her actual fire, and Amy, first described as the distaff Sheldon, grows more aware of others’ feelings, especially her own within their relationship, which is constantly a comic struggle because of their lack of socialization.) But in being the boldest representation of all, Sheldon quickly comes to eat up most of the character-based opportunities for laughs – something that wouldn’t be a problem on a show like, say, Friends, where, again, everyone is rendered a distinct color, not shades of the same. Here, they’re all weird nerds, and Sheldon is the flashiest example, overshadowing the others. For instance, while Raj is always under-developed – severely ham-stringed by his selective mutism around women, which limits what he can do in story, thereby rendering him usually more of a gag than a full character – Howard’s initially bold false bravado is diluted with every season. Eventually, his material becomes more exclusively determined by what’s going on in his relationship, rather than anything about his precise personality. And that’s a problem that comes to typify the entire show, for once Bernadette and Amy expand the ensemble to seven, The Big Bang Theory then spends the bulk of its run focusing on the ups and downs of the core couplings, and not so much the individual characters and/or the established premise of them becoming more social, a.k.a. human. Oh, don’t get me wrong; that these guys are now enjoying serious human connection via romantic love is proof that the situation is being elementally implied. And the final few years intentionally progress them through milestones of “adulthood” that reinforce their increased socialization. But the actual episodic ideas and larger plot maneuvers begin to have less and less to do with their specific dysfunctions, and therefore their characters – driven instead by more generic tensions common to this type of ensemble rom-com.

In fact, by the last half of the run, it’s often a victory when stories are simply able to reflect the characters’ sheer nerdiness — on the collective terms with which these leads are defined — for it’s too much to hope for anything actually individualized and/or more exactly premise-perfect. And I’m afraid Leonard and Penny are hit the hardest. Although Penny is never stupid (she’s got average intelligence compared to their genius), she’s designed as the “normal” contrast to these awkward scientists and thus a necessary part of the concept as an inciting agent who sparks their evolution. But as the show increasingly silos the other men into their own romantic relationships, the effect of her human qualities on them is less felt, and her own relevance within the situation diminishes. Even Sheldon, whom the show discovers in Season Two is her ideal scene partner, begins to grow independently of Penny and what she was designed to engender. So, without a direct use in regular story, her own personality diminishes as well – especially when opposite Leonard, who was always set up to function as something of a “straight man.” He’s the most “normal” of the guys, since he was the only one who could, in Season One, get the “hot girl” next door. He’s never the funniest or most specific character, but when it comes to laughs and even drama, the Leonard/Penny relationship only inspires fresh, worthwhile material when it can emphasize their contrasts. Initially, such differences are more obvious due to the premise – one of many reasons why the early seasons, when said premise is novel, are stronger. But the show soon after struggles to find story for them based on who they are. Once paired (and then separated and then paired again), it’s all pretty textbook and clichéd… seldom generating believable and funny conflict through their contrasting characterizations (which have now been beiged), with contrived stories predicated instead on generic commitment issues. The writing for them, like most of the writing for anyone not named Sheldon in the last half of the run, tends to be pretty weak, and it’s one of the main critiques that tempers my view of Big Bang’s creative merit within the genre as a whole. Even with some genuinely enjoyable seasons in both decades, weaknesses persist.

The show’s best seasons are Two and Three. As usual, this first year has to spend time developing and refining the characters. Then Two is a forward-moving collection of self-discovery, and Three is the peak – the moment where this rising understanding of the characters coincides with the premise’s inherently dwindling novelty, creating an intersection that’s mutually beneficial, yielding the best episodic examples of the situation. This is when the show is most adept at finding ways to explore, in episodic story, how its leads, especially Leonard and Sheldon, are uniquely and individually becoming more human as a result of their newfound proximity to Penny. By Season Four, Sheldon and Howard have their own romantic relationships, and while that suggests growth, these developments start to become less directly attached to Penny and therefore the exact situation as designed. Fortunately, the two new cast additions are smart, and the first few years where Amy and Bernadette are full-time also have their fair share of strong episodes, with premise-affiliation because of these new relationships and the implicit value they offer for the characters. However, by Seven, the show tires; the storytelling becomes more generic and there’s less specific, hilarious character stuff beyond Sheldon, whose arc – like everyone’s – is ready to wrap but must be delayed, eventually concluding in the middle of Nine. Yet the show continues on anyway… for a twelve-season run that is impressive but makes it so Big Bang is one of those shows whose best years are far away from its last. I’ll talk more granularly about each year as we get there, but here I’ll reiterate that I think the first half of the run is good – enough for me to consider Big Bang a better sitcom than all the other 2000s-premiering multi-cams I’ve covered. And Sheldon Cooper is an outstanding, iconic character – someone who, despite being caricatured and then evolved past the premise, basically maintains his value throughout the 2010s, even as the show around him starts to wear. Thanks to him, and those early years that emphasize the situation pretty well, I couldn’t avoid The Big Bang Theory on this blog. And to tell you the truth, I’m excited to cover it – the first half of it, at least – starting with this formative first season, which is still developing its leads but knows its premise well and is already able to get laughs from its utilization of both.

 

01) Episode 2: “The Big Bran Hypothesis” (Aired: 10/01/07)

Penny is upset when Sheldon and Leonard sneak into her apartment to clean.

Teleplay by Robert Cohen & Dave Goetsch | Story by Chuck Lorre & Bill Prady | Directed by Mark Cendrowski

After a mediocre pilot that doesn’t cement the situation as perfectly as others in this genre have, Big Bang offers a sophomore excursion that proves to be much more insightful. Even from the beginning, this one’s a winner, with Leonard and Sheldon struggling to lug a heavy package up the stairs — a thematic indication of the central duality of the series: just because they’re geniuses doesn’t mean they’re smart or wise when it comes to real life-practicalities. Not to mention the nuances of social interaction — which becomes evident here, when Sheldon (in particular) is disgusted by the messy state of Penny’s apartment and sneaks over to clean it up without her permission. That’s a basic display of his Felix Unger-like anal retentiveness, and thus the rigidity of his characterization, along with his lack of understanding of what’s socially appropriate. Plus, with some Leonard/Penny flirtation, and the other characters starting to be filled in more as well, this is the episode that tells me what Big Bang wants to be.

02) Episode 6: “The Middle-earth Paradigm” (Aired: 10/29/07)

Penny invites the guys to her Halloween party.

Teleplay by David Litt & Robert Cohen | Story by Dave Goetsch | Directed by Mark Cendrowski

This Halloween entry is notable because it progresses the teased and therefore inevitable Leonard/Penny romance, and in boasting their first kiss, it’s highly popular among fans. However, what I like best about “The Middle-earth Paradigm” is that it’s largely set at a party thrown by Penny — a social event to which she invites these four socially awkward nerds. And here in Season One, with this premise at the height of its freshness (and the characters at their most anti-social extreme in terms of experience, or lack thereof), their awkwardness in such “normal” gatherings is really on display, thereby presenting the series’ basic situation with straightforward ease. What’s more, this is the first chance that the guys have to channel their nerdiness via costumes — a recurring trope that the show will trot out regularly for easy laughs, but seldom with as much naturally premised support. An early gem.

03) Episode 11: “The Pancake Batter Anomaly” (Aired: 03/31/08)

Penny takes care of Sheldon when he falls ill.

Teleplay by Bill Prady & Stephen Engel | Story by Chuck Lorre & Lee Aronsohn | Directed by Mark Cendrowski

Big Bang was one of a few shows that actually benefited from the 2007-2008 WGA strike, not only because reruns during the gap improved the show’s popularity, but also because the break allowed for reflection. By the time the series returned in March 2008, it was operating at a noticeably higher baseline. Evidence of the show’s more thoughtful understanding of itself comes in this formative outing, which is the first to pair Sheldon and Penny one-on-one, as she takes care of him after he falls ill. As noted, putting the two of them together is a recipe for success, because she’s so human and he’s so not, at least as far as his socialization is concerned. So, when they’re directly juxtaposed, there’s plenty of comedic tension as a result of his fundamental rigidity, which reinforces his character and thus the premise at large. Season Two will really come to realize this, but “The Pancake Batter Anomaly” is the first example. It’s also a great building block for Sheldon individually as well — introducing the “Soft Kitty” running gag that will become so associated with his character, reinforcing the elemental childishness (first seen in the episode with his mother) that helps make him more sympathetic.

04) Episode 13: “The Bat Jar Conjecture” (Aired: 04/21/08)

Sheldon creates a rival team to compete against the guys in a physics quiz bowl.

Teleplay by Bill Prady & Robert Cohen | Story by Stephen Engel & Jennifer Glickman | Directed by Mark Cendrowski

At its core, this is the kind of story most sitcoms could do — where one regular breaks from a team competition and forms a rival faction. It’s not very original. However, Big Bang dresses it up with its own specifics by having the sport be a physics quiz bowl, which speaks to the collective characterization of the guys and one of the big things that makes this ensemble hangout comedy relatively unique. And it’s also driven by Sheldon’s fundamental competitiveness — a regular part of his personality and therefore something that can be deployed not just to earn this idea, but to render said idea a continuity-backed showcase for him. Accordingly, this is the kind of show we’ll see this series do a lot — one that’s not exactly about the humanization premise, but about nerds… and one very difficult one in particular. (Also, I’ll take this space to comment on Leslie, played by Johnny Galecki’s former Roseanne chum Sara Gilbert. She’s the first scientist love interest for the guys, with an un-emotive style that’s effective as a characterization but not conducive to big laughs. I appreciate the idea; she’s just seldom used well.)

05) Episode 15: “The Pork Chop Indeterminacy” (Aired: 05/05/08)

Sheldon is oblivious that all his friends are attracted to his visiting sister.

Teleplay by Lee Aronsohn & Bill Prady | Story by Chuck Lorre | Directed by Mark Cendrowski

Sheldon is visited by his sister Missy (Courtney Henggeler) — a character who only appears once more (briefly) on this series, well after she’s become a staple on the aforementioned spin-off, Young Sheldon. Her inclusion here comes at a time when Sheldon himself is still being refined, as is (of course) his backstory. But it’s undeniable that this early episode is another showcase for his character, especially because it emphasizes just how oblivious he is to social cues — namely, the fact that all three of his pals are trying to hit on his sister. This is amusing and uses our established understanding of his depiction to play to the premise, with support from the other socially awkward nerds as well, as their attempts to woo Missy also reiterate just how inexperienced they are at this type of human interaction. So, this is another solidly situation-affirming show, with Sheldon comedically spotlighted at its center.

06) Episode 16: “The Peanut Reaction” (Aired: 05/12/08)

Penny enlists the guys’ help in throwing a surprise party for Leonard.

Teleplay by Dave Goetsch & Steven Molaro | Story by Bill Prady & Lee Aronsohn | Directed by Mark Cendrowski

Penny corrals the guys into helping her throw a party for Leonard in this entry, which brings their maladjusted socialization to the fore, as the very concept of a party is something that speaks to human interaction and their basic weirdness on that front. This, as always, is especially true with Sheldon, whom Penny must push to buy his best friend a gift — helping him become more human by forcing him to follow through with a social ritual that is commonly used to express affection. And this is a chance to, again, play to the premise — putting together the two leads most designed to explore the concept in an explicit way. Additionally, I appreciate this outing because it makes plenty of time for the funny Simon Helberg to clown as Howard, as his job is to distract and keep Leonard away from the party while Penny takes Sheldon shopping — forcing Howard to “commit to the bit” of an allergic reaction.

07) Episode 17: “The Tangerine Factor” (Aired: 05/19/08)

After she experiences another bad breakup, Leonard asks Penny out on a date.

Teleplay by Lee Aronsohn & Steven Molaro | Story by Chuck Lorre & Bill Prady | Directed by Mark Cendrowski

Season One’s finale, “The Tangerine Factor,” is an easy choice for MVE (Most Valuable Episode), because it uses laughs and character to provide forward movement in the year’s only main narrative throughline — Leonard’s crush on Penny and the teased possibility of their future pairing. Indeed, that’s the focus here, culminating in their first official date, and the further cementation of them as the series’ primary rom-com tentpole going into its best seasons (Two and Three). But what I like most about this half hour is that it’s a great argument for how much the show has already refined over the course of its freshman year, with the Sheldon Cooper character, in particular, looking more like who we’ll know him to be over the course of the series. That’s largely due to a terrific and much-remembered scene where he counsels Penny (and then later Leonard) on her upcoming date with Leonard by telling her about Schrödinger’s Cat — a scientific thought experiment that basically says she’ll never know if it’ll go well or not until she just goes. It’s a sublime use of his character, rooted in his scientific expertise, but applied in a way that honors the premise — for this is not about science, it’s about human interaction and, in this case, a burgeoning relationship, where Sheldon’s growing, premise-backed closeness to both parties puts him in a position to be giving such advice. In that regard, it’s almost the ultimate display of the situation here in Season One, with the show’s rom-com engine furthered via its overarching definition — its scientifically minded regulars — and, most notably, the depiction of its boldest figure, the rich and now well-developed Sheldon. So, I think this is the year’s best sample, and one of the quintessential showings for the series in its entirety.

 

Other notable episodes that merit mention include: “The Loobenfeld Decay,” which finds comedy from Sheldon and Leonard’s clumsiness when it comes to social interactions (as they attempt to lie to avoid hurting Penny’s feelings), and “The Nerdvana Annihilation,” which finds a conflict between Leonard and Penny by having him worry over the fact that he’s not “normal” compared to her. I’ll also take this space to cite three formative entries, “The Luminous Fish Effect,” which introduces another Roseanne alum (Laurie Metcalf) as Sheldon’s mother, “The Dumpling Paradox,” which gives Howard his one A-story of the year, and “The Grasshopper Experiment,” which does the same for the harder-to-use Raj.

 

*** The MVE Award for the Best Episode from Season One of The Big Bang Theory goes to…

“The Tangerine Factor”

 

 

Come back next week for Season Two! And stay tuned tomorrow for a new Wildcard!