With all these unexpected and probably untrue rumors about its possible non-renewal, I’ve been thinking a bit about How I Met Your Mother. Despite my occasional ambivalence toward the show, I think it would be sad for it to be canceled.
It’s not mind-blowingly awesome the way my “favorite” comedies are: it doesn’t have elaborate, painstaking continuity and jokes that layer on top each other and build to delightful absurdity, it’s not particularly quirky or unexpected or mean, it’s not re-inventing anyone’s idea of what makes funny television.
It’s relaxed. (Sometimes to the point of not trying very hard.) The characters are likable, and none of them are those awkward plastic hot people you see so often in sitcoms. I mean, you even know what they do for a living, and you see them doing it — architect, reporter, lawyer, teacher, Barney. The show is sincere, often to the point of being very, very cheesy. But it’s a weirdly accurate description of what being 20-something in New York is like.
And at times, it will surprise you — not with a crazy new joke, but with plots that can feel (I hesitate to say it) subversive. The fact that Barney, the rich, superficial, commitment-phobe man-slut, is played by the openly gay Neil Patrick Harris is one of their big, welcome twists. The episode where his brother, played by Wayne Brady, visits him and announces that he’s going to get married — to another man — is a great example of the show teasing your expectations. It’s not that Wayne Brady is black, it’s not that he’s gay, it’s not that Barney’s upset by gay marriage per se. It’s that Barney’s brother would abandon their “lifestyle,” what he thought made them brothers: not getting married. The fact that he can and should be able to get married isn’t even discussed; it’s assumed by the all the characters. For a somewhat staid, conventional show, that’s a good place to ground your characters.
Last night’s episode had another example in Marshall’s bachelor party. Marshall doesn’t want a stripper; the idea of having someone strip embarrasses and upsets him. Because honestly — having people take off their clothes for you while they writhe around? That’s weird and gross. It’s a tired cliche to say that guys love nothing more than a stranger’s pair of saggy boobs shaking in their face, and it’s nice to have a show that doesn’t take the easy “guys-love-strippers” route. (Barney, of course, does love strippers. But he’s clearly wrong. And his misogyny, as always, is tempered by the fact that he’s not a super-buff football-type fratty asshole — he’s Neil Patrick Harris.)
It’s a show that earns its place on the TiFaux line-up. It’s never at the very top of the heap, but I never feel like I’d stop watching, either. To replace it with another monstrosity like “The Class” or “Two and Half Men” would be a shame. For one thing, I doubt you’d get gems like this, when Barney recalls a previous stripper:
Barney: Yeah, you’re right. She’s 15.
Ted: (horrified) She was 15 years old?
Barney: No, no. Like in Blackjack.
Ted: She’s a 15… so… you’re not sure whether you’d hit that?