Welcome to a new Sitcom Tuesday, on a Wednesday! This week, we’re starting coverage of Two And A Half Men (2003-2015, CBS), which is currently available on DVD and Peacock!
Two And A Half Men stars CHARLIE SHEEN as Charlie, JON CRYER as Alan, and ANGUS T. JONES as Jake. With MARIN HINKLE as Judith, MELANIE LYNSKEY as Rose, CONCHATA FERRELL as Berta, and HOLLAND TAYLOR as Evelyn.
I thought I could avoid the formidable 12-week commitment to Two And A Half Men by covering other Chuck Lorre sitcoms (like The Big Bang Theory) that similarly demonstrate how he has become, for better and for worse, synonymous with the state of all multi-camera sitcoms in the first two decades of the twenty-first century. But the truth is, despite his prior successes, the enormous popularity of Men — right when the 1990s’ best multi-cams were dying out and ready to hand over the proverbial torch — is the very thing that made Lorre a powerhouse in this new millennium. So, honestly, I’m glad that I’m forcing myself to cover this series — America’s most-watched sitcom from 2005-2006 to 2009-2010 — for even though I think Big Bang is a stronger effort, it’s something of a throwback to the ’90s (in terms of design and story), while Men feels like it better represents the Lorre ethos overall, along with the perceived sensibility of multi-cams, as a whole, during the mid-to-late 2000s. Specifically, I think Lorre’s work is associated with a certain coarse obviousness — an erosion of subtlety, or an anything-for-a-laugh baseness, particularly with both bathroom humor, and most importantly, sex. Indeed, Men would quickly become its era’s quintessentially raunchy example of a multi-camera sitcom, literally known for its audaciousness — much of which began as an embodiment of both these characters and the premise, but eventually veered into an unearned extreme, especially as the show enlisted this style to be the key part of its identity, following a reduced ability to showcase other elements as well. Seen from a wider angle, this over-reliance on sexual hijinks and fart jokes may have also intended to give the series a competitive rebellious edge; yet it suggested to critics an absence of substance, and at exactly the wrong time for the multi-cam – when the mid-2000s found single-cams building on their reputation as a smarter, more compelling form of rebellion. Oh, sure, compared to all its contemporaries, Men is solid (well, in the 2000s), but it also reveals why, as the ambassador for this period’s multi-cams, the single-camera alternative became a more appealing phenomenon. And as this series also ran FAR too long, its eroding quality couldn’t help but seem symbolic of the multi-camera format’s own decline, en masse.
Frankly, one of the reasons Men initially wasn’t on my radar is that I believe it was never, at any point in its life, one of the three best sitcoms on the air. However, I had a sneaking suspicion that it could be one of the five best, and lo and behold, my study has corroborated this notion (which is why I’m covering it), while some of my top-line thoughts have nuanced — both positively and negatively. In brief, I now have more of an appreciation for the series’ consistency and general craftsmanship during most of the Charlie Sheen era. And yet, I’m just not sure there are many classic excursions — the kind we find in most of the sitcoms I cover here. That is, most of Men’s offerings run together — I think because a lot of its storytelling ends up repetitive, with semi-serialized, rom-com-esque, in-and-out-of-relationship plots that have become de rigueur for the genre after the 1990s, and specifically, Friends. Obviously, Men isn’t a “hangout” show, and it eschews the optimism and romantic qualities of Friends – heck, anything that one might associate with emotionality is muted. It’s a very “bro-y,” masculine show — not touchy-feely, but irreverent and deliberately crass with subject matter. When this is attached to character and/or premise, it can be deemed a tonal representation of the situation, and it’s tolerable. And, again, I think the situation is generally well-constructed. Similar to the 1980s’ My Two Dads, for which Lorre was a staff writer, Men is one part a buddy comedy about a pair of odd couple brothers cohabitating – smooth playboy Charlie and neurotic divorced dad Alan – one part family sitcom about an aging bachelor thrust into a domestic role with parental (or parental-adjacent) duties, and one part a romantic comedy, about dysfunctional men looking for love, especially the nervous divorcé. All of that is familiar (not just to Dads), and once upon a time, each of those individual setups could and did carry whole series. But in this twenty-first century, where audiences tire quicker of cliché, a premise that has more working components ideally prevents monotony. And with a premised invitation (plus evolved cultural leeway) to be more overtly sexual — the thing that most distinguishes this series from the much tamer, schmaltzier, teen-heavy My Two Dads — Men is theoretically primed for plenty of story.
As for the characters, the show starts out inevitably: the bachelor rake is its primary comic figure, as his lifestyle is the most exaggeratable. Everyone else moves in relation to him, and with the charming, charismatic Charlie Sheen in that role, his star power carries the proceedings, while Jon Cryer’s Alan is the uptight, yet fairly normal “straight man” — the guy who is average at best with the ladies, whereas Charlie is a god. But the run of this series finds the comic burden shifting from Charlie to Alan, and though that is really obvious in the last four years, once Ashton Kutcher succeeds Sheen’s Charlie as a vague hologram named Walden, it’s already clear by the end of the Charlie era that Alan has become the bolder laugh-making force — the shameless brother who is willing to do anything to bed a hot chick… going to lengths that the cool Charlie need not. And actually, during the latter half of his tenure, Charlie seems more interested in finding a long-term relationship than Alan, who more casually flits from girl to girl and is narratively deployed in ways that we would have expected of Charlie, the perennial playboy. I don’t love this – Cryer is capable of bigger comedy (well, ultimately it gets too broad even for him), but Charlie is far more complex, given how he exists in other parts of the premise, like as Jake’s de facto second dad. Plus, it does look like Alan, even though initially a “straight man,” is shedding his definition without motivation. Of course, it’s helpful that Alan is comedically elevated around Season Two, and one could say the two guys’ clashing personas are merely rubbing off on each other, which plays to the idea of Men being an “odd couple” buddy comedy about opposites – the most satisfying aspect of the premise, for it directly utilizes their characterizations… unlike the rom-com story turns, which basically overtake the series and are a problem by the midpoint, as plot maneuvers become more important than character beats (made worse by the fact that most of the guys’ love interests have no personality). Then, the series’ crass humor has to compensate as its overarching, situation-defining attribute, originally as an extension of the two leads, but eventually as a replacement for their narrative influence. That’s the larger point: every trend is welcome at first, and then grows to become unpleasant.
Next, as to the kid, Jake (Angus T. Jones)… no matter how sassy he is – or how much the show decides, as it goes on, to play him as a gaseous, horny, lazy dummy – he’s always more of a device within the premised construct than an actual character. Unlike Charlie or Alan, he doesn’t motivate plots as often based on his personality particulars, so he’s the weakest of the three main leads. Now, to be fair, it’s difficult to avoid this with children in sitcoms, and for the most part, the show knows not to lean on him too heavily – it’s got enough with Alan and Charlie… Meanwhile, the cast is hit-and-miss with its supporting players. Alan’s ex-wife Judith is essentially an unfunny drama-making foil, but she’s not easy to integrate into story — scripts either have to be exploring her relationship with Alan or a conflict about how the brothers are parenting Jake. She’s eventually phased out — staying on the show mostly as a conduit to the hilarious Ryan Stiles as Herb, her fatigued second husband who proves to be Alan’s pal. Also less helpful for story is Rose, Charlie’s stalker — a single joke stretched into a whole regular. After his “death,” Men tries to say that Rose was Charlie’s one true love, but it’s hard to see why, for they don’t really have much intimacy in the early years when she’s around most often, and her narrative potential is limited, because she so seldom interacts with anyone else. Like Judith, the show is smart for reducing her presence — there’s not a lot she can do. Berta, meanwhile, suggests more potential — she’s the housekeeper introduced in episode four who becomes a mainstay. Played by the straightforward Conchata Ferrell, Berta is always underused/misused in plot but inherently amusing, and her bawdy humor and specific dynamics with both Charlie and Alan make her a character who’s good to have around. I also enjoy Holland Taylor as Evelyn, the duo’s mother (replacing Blythe Danner in the unaired pilot) — her character has unique, precise dynamics with both guys as well, rendering her comedically and narratively ideal. Taylor also plays well in the show’s raunch, indulging but elevating it with a sense of class. And I like when she encourages stories about the relationship between the brothers specifically.
We’ll talk more about future characters as they come, along with changes in the series’ situation — including Charlie’s departure, and his replacement, Walden, with whom the show struggles to maintain the premise, which, unfortunately for Two And A Half Men, can’t go away entirely because its title makes a promise. This promise is already strained in Seasons Nine and Ten, as Jake and Walden barely interact, but once Jake leaves, Eleven and Twelve are forced to jump through hoops to earn its name. Eleven tries to introduce Charlie’s daughter, while Twelve uses the guys’ adopted son. I’ll share my thoughts on all that later. For now, I’ll just say… the Walden years, as a whole, are even worse than I remembered (for reasons we’ll discuss). And, yes, it goes without saying, but the show should have ended with Charlie. Also, although Two through Five/Six are decent, I believe Two and Three are the only candidates for the series’ best, offering two versions of a “peak era” blend of premise novelty and character knowingness, primarily via both brothers’ usage and the show’s cultivated reputation for titillation. Slowly, the equilibrium skews, as story is often serialized around relationship drama, with not enough “bachelor uncle” or “buddy comedy” stakes, and an encroaching crassness that’s unmoored from the characters and thus implies a lack of situation. Oh, and prior to Two, the show is just not as funny. In fact, I’m surprised by how earnest it is in One, which does a decent job utilizing all parts of the situation in story — particularly the “bachelor uncle” angle that falls away fastest — and with leads who are much closer to reality than they’ll end up (or are on average). Additionally, the raunch is much less, which makes sense — the kid is young, and the naughtiness increases as he ages, turning scripts into more of a “bro fest.” In this regard, One has the best and most novel premise-related narrative ideas, but it lacks the bold humor for which Men is known and from which it derives a large part of its identity — much of which, initially at least, is rooted in character and therefore appreciated. But with few true standouts even in the series’ best years, it’s not like there are all-time gems here either. So, for this list, I can only pick the entries that stand out based on this year’s standards, featuring character or premise comedically, and acquitting this, Chuck Lorre’s brand-defining sitcom, as a worthy effort.
01) Episode 1: “Pilot” (Aired: 09/22/03)
Charlie takes in his brother and nephew.
Written by Chuck Lorre & Lee Aronsohn | Directed by James Burrows
Two And A Half Men opens with a premise pilot that establishes all parts of the series’ concept, as noted above: the “odd couple” buddy comedy, the “bachelor uncle” emotional hook, and even the “dysfunctional men looking for love” rom-com engine. The first two are most pronounced here in the opener and during this first season, where there’s a particular focus on Charlie as the nucleus around which all situation-approved story turns. There’s probably nothing exceptional in this premiere compared to other series’ premieres, but the teleplay is efficient and effective, and in general, it’s more polished than the majority of this show’s opening outings.
02) Episode 7: “If They Do Go Either Way, They’re Usually Fake” (Aired: 11/03/03)
Judith worries about Charlie’s influence on Jake.
Teleplay by Lee Aronsohn & Mark Roberts | Story by Chuck Lorre & Don Foster | Directed by Andy Ackerman
One aspect of the “bachelor uncle” part of the premise that works particularly well is the notion that Charlie’s womanizing is having a negative effect on Jake. Not only does this literally address a vital element of the series’ situation, it also creates natural conflict between the characters — if not Charlie and Alan (or Alan and Jake), then Charlie/Alan and Judith, who is more prominently featured here in Men’s more sincere early era, where her presence is needed to communicate such parental and divorce-related tensions. This installment is the first to play up that smart source of drama, and with a sexuality that will obviously grow in later seasons as well.
03) Episode 11: “Alan Harper, Frontier Chiropractor” (Aired: 12/15/03)
Charlie helps Alan get back out in the dating scene.
Teleplay by Lee Aronsohn & Mark Roberts | Story by Chuck Lorre & Don Foster | Directed by Robert Berlinger
Although Alan spends most of this first season as a bit of a “straight man” to the incorrigible Charlie, there’s an implied understanding that he’s an oppositional, contrasting force, particularly with regard to sexuality. That is, unlike his brother, Alan’s a loser with the ladies. So, this entry — about Charlie coaching him back into the dating scene — is a wise, necessary step for first revealing his depiction, and then emphasizing both the relationship drama and brotherly bond that comprise two significant elements of the series’ premise. I especially like this story, as, again, it intrinsically accentuates and depends on character. Underrated.
04) Episode 12: “Camel Filters And Pheromones” (Aired: 01/05/04)
Berta’s attractive 16-year-old granddaughter spends a day at the house.
Teleplay by Susan Beavers & Mark Roberts | Story by Chuck Lorre & Lee Aronsohn | Directed by Robert Berlinger
One of the year’s most popular, this offering’s appeal is probably driven mainly by the guest appearance of a pre-Transformers Megan Fox, who plays the token hottie over which all the men drool. This kind of empty temptation is a hallmark of Men and something of a gimmick, especially when there’s stunt casting involved. I usually dislike this, but I appreciate that, here, it’s more about the regulars’ reactions to Fox than Fox herself, and with the idea that Charlie’s lifestyle — specifically, his fixation on sex — is having an effect on Jake, there are indeed some premised underpinnings, along with a soon-to-be series-defining sense of raunch.
05) Episode 17: “Ate The Hamburgers, Wearing The Hats” (Aired: 02/23/04)
Charlie is offended when Alan isn’t going to name him as Jake’s backup guardian.
Teleplay by Eddie Gorodetsky & Mark Roberts | Story by Jeff Abugov & Eric Lapidus | Directed by Andrew D. Weyman
In addition to the pilot and the first few scripts thereafter — which basically reiterate the opener’s key ideas — there are only two other entries in One that straightforwardly examine the premise, and specifically, the “bachelor uncle” angle that will fade over time, both as Jake ages and the series opts to become more ribald, less sentimental. This installment is the first of these — the kind of story that could only happen in this early season, where Charlie actually wants to help raise Jake, despite not having the experience or knowledge to do so properly, which creates conflict. That makes his character more dimensional than he’ll ultimately devolve into being, and although this script isn’t hilarious by the entire series’ standards, it’s funny enough to prove, as we’ve always known, that such situation-corroboration leads to guaranteed sitcommery.
06) Episode 18: “An Old Flame With A New Wick” (Aired: 03/01/04)
Evelyn sleeps with Charlie’s ex, who has since transitioned into a man.
Teleplay by Lee Aronsohn & Mark Roberts | Story by Chuck Lorre & Don Foster | Directed by Andrew D. Weyman
Men’s contribution to a small subcategory of sitcom episodes in which a lead must come to terms with an old friend having transitioned to a different gender, this memorable offering is rooted in the social mores of its era but is far from as crude or offensive as the series is usually regarded. It’s an early and therefore somewhat restrained display of Men’s mounting hyper-focus on sex, made evident by the script’s choice to have its conflict not be about Charlie’s view on trans people, but the fact that his mom, Evelyn, is unknowingly dating his ex (Chris O’Donnell) — a routine sitcom problem that’s nevertheless indicative of the fare we can expect from this series, where everybody ends up boinking everybody. It’s a prime exhibit of this show’s tenor.
07) Episode 19: “I Remember The Coatroom, I Just Don’t Remember You” (Aired: 03/22/04)
Charlie and Alan are both attracted to Judith’s sister.
Teleplay by Don Foster & Eddie Gorodetsky | Story by Chuck Lorre & Lee Aronsohn | Directed by Gail Mancuso
This outing smartly uses two major aspects of the series’ premise, while also showcasing this year’s growing adoption of the heightened and brashly comic (sometimes crude) sensibility with which Men will come to link its identity. One part of the setup that’s well-featured is the “odd couple” buddy tension (my favorite), which thrives when Charlie and Alan are as well-contrasted as they are in this story that guest stars Teri Hatcher as Judith’s sister — a former lover of Charlie’s and a current flirt who is seemingly setting her sights on Alan, thereby emphasizing the rom-com relationship angle that also encourages tone-affirming naughtiness. It’s an MVE contender — a preview of what the show will become. (Also, Evelyn is very fun here!)
08) Episode 21: “No Sniffing, No Wowing” (Aired: 05/03/04)
Charlie sleeps with Alan’s divorce attorney.
Teleplay by Chuck Lorre & Don Foster | Story by Lee Aronsohn & Susan Beavers | Directed by Rob Schiller
After the earlier stunt casting of Denise Richards (Charlie Sheen’s real-life wife at the time) as Charlie’s ex in an Honorable Mention below, this excursion similarly offers someone associated with its star — Heather Locklear, with whom Sheen had appeared on Spin City. Locklear’s character, however, is better entrenched within this series’ premise-supported narrative, as she plays Alan’s divorce attorney — someone who addresses that ongoing arc, and then, when she inevitably sleeps with Charlie, helps accentuate his centralized lothario persona and how that’s in contrast to his brother. So, though a gimmick, this is a fine character showcase for both men.
09) Episode 23: “Just Like Buffalo” (Aired: 05/17/14)
Charlie manages to charm Judith’s all-women support group.
Teleplay by Lee Aronsohn & Don Foster | Story by Chuck Lorre & Susan Beavers | Directed by Rob Schiller
My choice for this year’s Most Valuable Episode (MVE), “Just Like Buffalo” is another comedic exhibition for the anchoring Charlie characterization, around which every part of the premise revolves, and it deftly uses a lot of the series’ situation. The story stems from a central drama here in this first season about Charlie being a “bachelor uncle,” and particularly how his lifestyle — namely his regard for women — is rubbing off on Jake, much to Judith’s consternation. That is a naturally effective play to this more emotionally earnest and dimension-yielding aspect of the concept (for Charlie). Additionally, the introduction of Judith’s support group of embittered divorcées provides a chance for this script to explore Charlie’s defining way with the ladies, specifically in contrast to Alan, thereby revealing the brothers’ core differences. In fact, this is one of the season’s funniest segments for its star, also evidencing the raunchier, masculine-geared humor that will come to be a calling card for the series. Accordingly, this is the year’s best display of Men’s emerging identity — that’s why it’s my MVE. (Yvette Nicole Brown appears.)
10) Episode 24: “Can You Feel My Finger?” (Aired: 05/24/04)
Charlie intends to get a vasectomy.
Teleplay by Chuck Lorre & Lee Aronsohn | Story by Chuck Lorre | Directed by Rob Schiller
Season One ends with another surprisingly genuine entry, zeroing in on Charlie and actually suggesting some growth for his character since the pilot, as his plan to get a vasectomy following a pregnancy scare eventually folds to the realization that maybe he wants to be a father after all — a possibility that speaks directly to him becoming a new proxy parent in the form of “bachelor uncle.” Such introspection, which helpfully comes in an otherwise pretty funny teleplay, is something Men will try to pretend it’s offering Charlie throughout his tenure, but often only in soapy, rom-com outings, after this parenting part of the premise fades away and these characters are no longer rooted in as much emotional sincerity. Here, it’s true sitcommery!
Other notable episodes that merit mention include: “If I Can’t Write My Chocolate Song, I’m Going To Take A Nap,” which is the best of the early reiterations of the pilot (and it introduces Berta), “The Last Thing You Want Is To Wind Up With A Hump,” a preliminary display of the series’ relationship-focus and hyper-charged sexual bent, “Twenty-Five Little Pre-Pubers Without A Snootful,” which has some funny moments for the Charlie character specifically, “Merry Thanksgiving,” which guests Denise Richards and was capably directed by the great Jay Sandrich, “Sarah Like Puny Alan,” a solid show for building the brothers’ bond and the actors’ chemistry, and “My Doctor Has A Cow Puppet,” where Charlie and Alan go to therapy — it’s the second entry with Jane Lynch as the family’s shrink. (Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I do NOT like the two-parter with Jenna Elfman; the comic spotlight is way too much on her kooky character, and not on the leads or the series’ premise.)
*** The MVE Award for the Best Episode from Season One of Two And A Half Men goes to…
“Just Like Buffalo”
Come back next week for Season Two and a new Wildcard Wednesday!