I only began watching The Big Bang Theory – a sitcom about a
gang of Caltech scientists, whose intelligence and geekiness are inversely
proportional to their social skills and athleticism, and the hot neighbor
across the hallway who somehow becomes part of their circle – when it already
had six seasons, which I had fun binging.
I didn’t necessarily fall in love it, but I really got to enjoy its
nerdy references and style of comedy, which successfully made me bust my gut
laughing a couple of times. When season
7 rolled in, I was already caught up with the show, and I got to follow it in
an episode-by-episode basis.
With the first six seasons still
somewhat fresh on my mind, I found the seventh season to be noticeably less
funny than usual. And as I continued
following the show through the years, it felt to me that its quality was
depreciating with each new season.
In other words, in my opinion, The Big Bang Theory was at its most
hilarious and most clever during its first six seasons. Afterwards, it went on a steady decline. The jokes became safer, and thus,
blander. Moreover, bits that involved nerdy
references started lacking layers and thoughtful execution – meaning,
references were being made just for the sake of making references.
However, despite of these, and
although it had never come close of becoming one of my most favorite TV shows, The Big Bang Theory was always part of
my watchlist every year. I couldn’t drop
it.
Why was this? Well, first of all, like almost every sitcom,
the runtime of each episode was just around 20 minutes – just short and light. Sitting through it came easy. Secondly, and most importantly, I became
invested on the characters. I grew to
care about where their respective arcs would take them, and how their
relationships and friendships would evolve.
I didn’t really have a particular
character in mind as absolute favorite.
The closest to being one was probably Bernadette, who I thought was an
adorable comedic character during her first few seasons. Eventually, my liking for her just became the
same with my liking for the others. For
the most part of watching this show, I got to like the characters equally, and
enjoyed watching them change over time.
Usually, most of the life-changing
moments for these characters happened during the season finales. Thus, no matter how middling much of a season
was, you could expect that its finale was going to be a strong episode. This was the case up until season 12, which was
the show’s final season, and thus, whose season finale also served as series
finale.
The two-part series finale brought
a very solid end to a show that arguably overstayed its welcome. Indeed, its run somehow lasted almost twice
longer that it deserved, but the satisfying conclusion cast the impression that
the whole thing was taut and worthwhile when it wasn’t necessarily so (it’s a
testament to how important a series finale is in making a show’s legacy). It effectively made long-time viewers reflect
about how far these characters grew as individuals and as friends, as they are mostly
different persons in the end from how we first met them. I honestly found the finale to be quite
emotional – solidifying the notion that I really became invested on these
characters.
Lastly, the elevator getting fixed was a predictable happening, but it still served as a perfect way of symbolizing the show going full circle.
In the end, I don’t think The Big Bang Theory has ever come close
to matching Friend’s quintessence, significance,
and quality – a feat that the former clearly made an attempt of accomplishing (for
the record, I started watching The Big
Bang Theory before I got around to watching Friends). However, as far as
finales go, The Big Bang Theory
pulled off one that left a lingering feeling of I’m-sad-that-the-show-is-finished
in the same way Friends did with its
finale.
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