The One About A TV Show That Is Not Doctor Who

At the risk of sounding like someone who writes in to the local newspaper to rant about whatever is on their mind, you know that song, 'it's 5 o'clock somewhere?' Well, it's always the 20th anniversary of something somewhere, these days. These anniversaries sneak up on unwary 45-year-olds who are still getting accustomed to not being 30: the first Iraq war, Britpop, Nirvana's Nevermind, Tony Blair becoming Labour leader, Jarvis Cocker showing his bottom to Michael Jackson at the BRIT Awards... (Wait, we haven't had that one yet, have we? That's next year. I hope.)

And now, apparently, this month it's the 20th anniversary of Friends. I find this a bit odd, as I thought we'd already had the 20th anniversary of Friends a while back, but that might have been the 20th anniversary of the pilot episode... or maybe it was the 10th anniversary of it ending. And if it's 5 o'clock somewhere, it's also the time for a Friends repeat somewhere. There was a time when it seemed to be on E4 about fifteen times a day, although that's calmed down a bit now, and they now fill the gaps with The Big Bang Theory and Who Cares How the Hell You Met Their Mother, Seriously? (not a fan of the latter).

The early series of Friends actually have a haunting, nostalgic, almost elegiac quality in places. There is the sense of regret beneath the comedy that these people will never get their childhood and high school years back, and the freedom and fear of being unleashed into the adult world - especially when viewed on the rather washed-out, grainy prints E4 seemed to use. (Or did it always look like that?) Later series sometimes descended into farce, and it was tricky to ignore the fact that the regulars increasingly looked like highly-paid, airbrushed supermodels, but it was usually very funny. It's not hard to see why it did so well here in the UK, as it has all the staples of a great British sitcom: a small group of characters (which doesn't change at all in 10 years - even Dad's Army and It Ain't Half Hot Mum lost a couple of regulars) and comedy which is often based around misunderstandings, social embarrassment, irony, characters behaving in predictable ways, and people trying and failing to pass on important messages until it's too late.

It's interesting to think about the few things which a UK version might have made more of, but which are more-or-less ignored. The Geller family's Jewishness is just there, it's hardly ever really made a big thing of (which is fine), and yet it's hard to imagine a UK sitcom with a Jewish family which would not make their religion a central issue - and sadly, it would probably lapse into comic stereotype. Also almost totally glossed-over are the obvious income differences there would be between a head chef, a very-occasionally-employed actor, a singer/masseuse, a data input thingy whatsit (what does Chandler do, anyway?), a university lecturer and a waitress. (I say almost, because there are odd references to it, and one episode where it is, rather jarringly, pointed out that three of them earn less than the others.) The awkwardness would be made more of in a British sitcom - and it would probably also be a class-based issue, with the comedy arising from the ensuing social gaffes (think of Rodney and Cassandra in Only Fools and Horses).

A few elements proved odd for the British viewer, though (I'm hoping it wasn't just me) so I thought I'd round up a few of the cultural oddities which sometimes proved a barrier to enjoying the show properly. I don't mean stuff like the importance of High School proms or (mostly) issues of vocabulary, or how darned odd it sounds the first time you hear Phoebe say 'I'm a mass-oose' to rhyme with 'caboose', and not the much sexier and more Fruunnnch 'mass-euse' to rhyme with 'Chartreuse'. I'm not talking about high-fiving, belief-suspending riffs of plot ludicrousness like Rachel's meteoric rise from waitress to Ralph Lauren buyer (is nobody in US sitcoms allowed to stay unsuccessful, or be poor or have unfulfilled dreams?). Or Joey's apparent ability to work on a Los Angeles-based TV production while living in New York all the time, or the increasing unlikelihood of all six of them being together for casual breakfasts before work and cosy gatherings on the Central Perk sofa in the evenings (Monica being the only chef in the world who never works evenings, weekends or public holidays).

I'm thinking of things which probably won't have been commented on by the US viewer because they are so normal, and yet which will have made most UK viewers go 'huh'? At least, until the time we saw 'The One With The Holiday Armadillo' for the seventeenth time on E4. (Seriously, it was always 'The One With The Holiday Armadillo'.)

1. Ross is a Professor. 
His students call him Professor Geller. He's only just got his PhD, he's only just left the museum and started teaching. Yes, 'Professor' means something very different in the US education system, and it jars a bit when you're used to the UK one, where being a Professor entails the responsibility for an entire department - and where you're a prodigy indeed if you manage it before you're 40, let alone 30.

2. The Hallowe'en episode.
There always has to be one. And everyone dresses up in random, weird costumes whose extravagance is in inverse proportion to the humour quotient of the script. Can they not just ignore Hallowe'en one year?

3. The Thanksgiving episode.
Equally baffling. Again, there always has to be one, and there is usually an 'amusing' incident with a turkey and a crisis over a family misunderstanding.

4. 'Doodies'.
Over and over again, in the episode where Chandler starts his new job, it is apparently hilariously funny that his colleagues pronounce 'duties' in this way. It isn't even funny the first time, seeing as we don't have the same slang term (it's a toilet reference, right?), and having it repeated throughout the episode doesn't make it any funnier.

5. Pottery Barn.
We don't have it. So the whole social significance of Phoebe's antipathy to the place (despite eventually decking out her flat in its fake-antique stuff) is rather lost on us.

6. The crying Indian.
The basis of a famous Chandler one-liner, in 'The One Where They Run Out Of Petrol' (look, I know it's not probably called that, but people call Doctor Who episodes 'the one with the maggots' and 'the one with the statues' so often that I thought I could get away with it). Chandler says that if he throws some rubbish down, a 'crying Indian' would come by and save them. It's all about this environmental awareness short from the 1970s, which most UK viewers will only have discovered since we got YouTube. They probably wouldn't say 'Indian' these days... right?

7. Whooping at celebrity cameos. 
Seriously, why do audiences do this? Every time a guest or minor character walks into the room for the first time and, big deal, they happen to be played by Christina Applegate or Tom Selleck or someone (yes, they play roles, they are actors) the entire studio audience explodes with a rapturous 'WAAAAOOOGGHH--HOOO!' and a deafening round of applause. Quite apart from drowning out the character's first line of dialogue, it also breaks the fourth wall (and not in a clever way) and means that, on some level, the audience are not fully buying into the fictional universe presented.


That's it.

Well, not quite. I can't let this go. For the last time: