http://www.avclub.com/articles/last-man-standings-second-season-was-the-weirdest,95857/
Last Man Standing�s second season was the weirdest sitcom season since
�Til Death
By Todd VanDerWerff
Between Last Man Standing�s first and second seasons, the largely
non-distinct sitcom, mostly known for being Tim Allen�s return to
television, had a choice to make. Headed for Fridays, the second
least-watched night of the week (after Saturdays), the program had to
do something to make some noise and hopefully attract viewership.
Simply having Allen in the cast wasn�t going to do it any longer. So,
as Allen and new showrunner Tim Doyle discussed with the New York
Post, the choice was made to try to turn a bland family sitcom into a
modern-day Norman Lear comedy, complete with arguing about social
issues, Barack Obama, and the nation�s legacy of genocide.
Did it work? Having watched all 18 episodes of the show�s second
season, I can�t really say that it made the show better, but it
certainly made it weirder. (And in terms of ratings, it allowed the
show to keep the lights on on Friday, no mean feat.) Its attempt to
put a finger on the country�s pulse made it much more worthy of
discussion than when it was just about some angry guy living with too
many women, as it was in its first season. It�s like when �Til Death
turned into a strange meta-sitcom in its final season, though somehow
even more misguided.
The basic premise of Last Man Standing is the same as Allen�s former
sitcom hit, Home Improvement, only his character, Mike Baxter, has
three adolescent-and-older daughters, instead of three child sons. The
oldest daughter, Kristin, was the promising one who was going to
succeed, until she had a child late in high school, and she�s lived in
her parents� house with her son, Boyd, ever since. Middle daughter
Mandy is a ditzy fashionplate. Youngest daughter Eve is the one who�s
closest to her dad, into things like soccer and hunting. There�s an
outdoor-store workplace setting where Mike deals with crotchety boss
Ed (meant to be the even more hyper-masculine version of Mike in
season one) and dumbass employee Kyle. And in the second season, the
show made an attempt to flesh out the neighborhood the Baxters lived
in with a handful of recurring characters, including a black couple
who become fast friends with the Baxters, and a Latina maid. In
addition, the second season added the father of Kristin�s son, Ryan,
as a semi-regular, meant to be the Meathead to Mike�s Archie Bunker.
The problem with Last Man Standing�s attempts to go political is
exemplified by the first scene of the season premi�re, which remains
one of the most uncomfortable scenes of television I�ve ever watched.
It�s not even really bad so much as it�s actively discomfiting, doing
its best to push buttons in the audience that don�t need to be pushed,
as if it thinks what made Lear�s sitcoms a success was the yelling or
the mentions of social issues that people sometimes argued about. Mike
says Obama was born in Kenya. Kristin and Ryan make fun of Romney for
being a robot. It goes on and on and gets more and more
squirm-inducing, but in a way that is clearly meant to be a good time.
This is the new height of political humor?
The characters on Last Man Standing don�t speak about issues in any
sort of nuanced manner, nor do they have terribly deep discussions
about them. They mostly repeat buzzwords and shout at each other a
lot. The show wanted to make Mike into a conservative hero, but it
didn�t bother giving him a consistent worldview. He�s just somebody
who spouts Fox News talking points a lot, and while that may be
somewhat true to life�in that most modern political arguments between
left and right tend to boil down to talking points gleaned from
elsewhere�it doesn�t make the experience of watching people shout
pithy, empty phrases at each other any more interesting or involving.
What�s more, Mike�s main liberal competition�Ryan and, occasionally,
Kristin�tend to speak as if they came up with their own political
positions from reading the list of tags at the bottom of posts on a
left-wing blog.
Again, this is true to life. Few political arguments�particularly
those among family�have the level of nuance one might expect from,
say, a mythical boxing match between Paul Krugman and Milton Friedman.
And, thinking back on All In The Family, Archie and Mike Stivic�s
arguments on that show rarely had much nuance to them, either; the
series gained much of its power from moments when it could step
outside of their limited points-of-view and depict the world as it
actually was. What made All In The Family�s political arguments
work�what made the vast majority of all of Lear�s series featuring
such arguments work�were the character stakes. The idea that Archie
and Mike would love or even respect each other at the end of one of
those knockdown shouting matches wasn�t taken for granted. They really
might end up pushing each other too far, and did on occasion. The
relationship, which grew to a kind of grudging respect and finally
love, was one of the best developed in television history.
It�s unfair to hold a relationship that�s only existed for 18 episodes
of television to that sort of standard, but the central problem with
Last Man Standing�s political arguments is that the show A) never
gives viewers a reason to care whether Mike and Ryan respect each
other at the end of the day (after all, Ryan�s not even a series
regular), and B) takes it for granted that the two will respect, and
maybe even love, each other. Ryan abandoned the mother of his child
and said child for three years and has returned, trying to right his
wrongs. The Baxters have every right to be suspicious of him, and it
would be easy enough to turn Mike and Ryan�s political arguments into
arguments about something more fundamental in their relationship: what
Mike perceives as Ryan�s utter inability to help out Kristin when the
chips were down. That�s interesting. That�s drama. But Last Man
Standing runs away from it at every occasion.
The series has the right idea in trying to ground the political in the
personal. For 99 percent of us, politics is personal. Think, for
instance, of the relief you might have felt when Obama won last year,
or the despair you might have felt when Romney lost. Those emotions
may have been driven by something politically concrete on one level,
but they were also driven by a more fundamental, emotional level. No
matter how much you may believe in [insert issue here], every election
comes down to a choice between something you identify strongly with
and something you do not. The two-party system all but guarantees
this. When the characters on a Norman Lear political sitcom argue,
this is what they�re really arguing about: the defense of the self
against something that would encroach upon it. Too often on Last Man
Standing, however, the characters just argue about politics to give
each other a hard time. There�s little sense of passion, and even when
the characters come up against a problem that�s truly insoluble�where
there are significant arguments to be made on both sides�the show
chickens out and ultimately buries everything under a gloss of, �Well,
at least we all still love each other!� Take, for instance, the
episode �Mother Fracking.�
Mike�s wife Vanessa (the great Nancy Travis, given sadly little to do)
is a geologist, and part of her work involves using the process known
as fracking to gather natural gas. Eve�s terrified of the impact this
might have on the planet, so she stages a one-girl protest. Vanessa
rightly points out that the best current method of finding energy
comes from fossil fuels. The choice is presented along admirably stark
lines: Enjoy the modern comforts that in many cases keep us alive, or
probably fuck up the planet irreparably. There�s a real opportunity
here to strain a relationship between mother and daughter, one viewers
actually do care about. Instead, Mike tells Eve that her mother does
her best, and maybe Eve shouldn�t give Vanessa a hard time, since she
really loves her little girl. And� that�s about it.
This question of making giant political issues into smaller, more
personal ones runs throughout the season (though toward the season�s
end, it becomes less about that and more about interpersonal
relationships), and it�s sometimes, frankly, embarrassing. There�s a
whole episode that clumsily creates the impression it wants to make a
one-to-one comparison between the genocide of American Indians and
Ryan leaving after Boyd was born. (Ryan doesn�t appreciate Ed
promoting Outdoor Man with a Western-themed stage show�that arrives
out of nowhere, it must be said�which features rampaging Indians.
Later, when Ryan tries to say that it doesn�t matter what he did in
the past in regards to Boyd, Mike accuses him of turning the tables
and trying to sweep his own history under the rug. It�s� awkward.)
There�s also an episode, talked about in the Post article above, where
Eve gets in trouble for bullying at school, which means well but also
inadvertently seems to suggest that kids should be able to use as many
anti-gay slurs as they want. Because the show is so intent on not
having a definitive political point of view, it comes off as clumsy
more often than not. It also forces the characters to behave in ways
no human being ever would, as in one episode when Vanessa wonders if
she received a promotion because she is good looking, then actually
goes and asks her boss that very question. Who would do this?
There are stabs at character complexity here and there. Ryan is
liberal to a fault but also subject to his own unexamined prejudices,
particularly when it comes to how he, deep down, believes the mother
of his child should submit to his authority. And Eve�s a gun-toting
wannabe Marine who�s also really concerned about the potential
destruction of the planet, and recoils in horror at the Wild West show
when she finds out about the plight of the Indians. I�d feel more
strongly supportive of these stabs at complexity, however, if the
series didn�t leave the impression that it simply forced the
characters into whatever straitjacket it needed them to be in for that
particular episode. Eve will be a budding hippie in one episode, a
budding military member in the next, and never the twain shall meet.
Considering the show does take stabs at consistency of setting and
story serialization, it�s just a little strange, as if Last Man
Standing understands that people are complex but wants to present all
of its characters as different archetypes in different episodes, lest
they get too complex.
That Last Man Standing doesn�t really work is all the more
disappointing because it comes close enough to suggest a show worth
watching. Even if the show�s first season was more consistent across
the board, it was much less interesting than the second, which was
fitfully fascinating, as in an episode when Kristin learns Mandy is
infatuated with Kyle, whom Kristin earlier dated, and takes this
occasion to reignite her relationship with Ryan. It�s a wonderfully
ambiguous moment, where Kristin�s motivations are surprisingly
nuanced�until the next episode, when she and Ryan are just happy
together again. In its second season, it was incredibly evident that
Last Man Standing had seen some of the best shows in TV history and
was trying to ape them, but had mostly just captured the surface of
them.
This is too bad. The cast is game, the jokes work on occasion
(particularly when delivered by Molly Ephraim, who plays Mandy, and
Hector Elizondo, who plays Ed), and the show�s attempts to work
politics into the mix are at least admirable and less wrongheaded than
they might initially appear. Tim Allen doesn�t really have it in him
to play Archie Bunker, but he does have it in him to play a guy who
might have heard Archie back in the �70s and heard in the man�s
bitterness and resentment something that resonated, then found that
sanded down by success and comfort. Where Archie was a blue-collar
hero, Mike Baxter lives in the world of upper-class security. Where
Archie was railing against a world that terrified him precisely
because he didn�t know how secure his future was, Mike doesn�t have to
worry about that. At its best, Last Man Standing can reflect some of
the anxieties of Allen�s generation�like the thought that these late
Boomer parents want to raise their daughters to be independent, then
fall back on tired old gender stereotypes when those daughters really
are independent�and provide a kind of comedy attuned to red-state
sensibilities (ironically, since it�s set in bluing Colorado). Sadly,
it�s too often at its worst, where it knows it has something to say
but has no idea how to say it.