We watched your triumphs, your screw-ups. You made us happy, you made us sad, at times you confused us and, most often of all, you made us laugh. But tonight, Michael Scott, because of you the tears just kept on coming.
I told you I would cry. It’s that final teaser the week before a show ends or a character leaves that’s the real clincher. For The Office, it was that and every single thing that happened in Michael’s final episode.
The gifts started it. They began funny: the neon beer maiden sign that Michael gave Ryan, asking him after the fact, “You’re not prone to seizures?” Then the gifts became more emotional: the letter of recommendation for Dwight equating Mr. Assistant to the Regional Manager (ahem, Assistant Regional Manager) with the definition of “superlative.”
The ending was equally emotional: Michael looking back at the Dunder Mifflin employees for one last time, Creed saying, “See you tomorrow, boss,” a final hug between Michael and Pam.
But earlier on, when Jim went into Michael’s office and refused to say goodbye and rather promised to see him at lunch tomorrow, it was more than my little tear ducts could handle.
I still hoped that the character might change his mind. It was naïve, since this has been advertised as a forthcoming inevitability. But when Michael said, “I can’t do this, all the channels are going to be different there,” I suddenly felt a smattering of hope that maybe he wouldn’t leave. It’s as if this hope came from some place other than logic. As clear as it was in my head that Steve Carell was planning on leaving The Office and thus Michael would be leaving, I still assumed that Michael the character had the rights to his own volition, which was utter nonsense. Or was it?
Looking back at old episodes of The Office, “Goodbye, Michael” compels me to revoke any complaints I ever made about Michael being too much a caricature. Maybe it was just the design of the episode in being primarily dramatic and less comedic, but the level of humanism clarifies in retrospect Michael’s place as a rounded character.
Even though he is written as a hilarious oddball, underneath, Michael the person exists within Michael the character. And that’s why he’s absolutely, 100 percent lovable. He’s always funny, and that’s expected of him as a sitcom character. But underneath the non sequitur comedy and goofiness, he’s human.
So maybe my reaction to Michael’s comment about not wanting to leave was not temporary insanity. It was just that for a moment in time, Michael Scott was real to me, and I felt like I was watching him make the choice to stay. And that’s what I wanted, but consciously knew I could never have.
What these seven years of The Office have given us is akin to reading a really amazing book. It’s that feeling of being vicariously involved in the story. Because of Michael Scott (and other characters: Jim, Pam, etc.), The Office has become more than a situation comedy we watch on Thursday nights. It has become a part of our lives.
Which is why it’s so hard to see Michael leave.
Still, there’s hope for this show to be as great as it ever was. The new comedians being signed on as potential replacement regional managers are great beacon of hope in the looming abyss of Michael-less-ness.
As Jim said in his final goodbye with Michael: “I can tell you what a great boss you turned out to be.”
I will follow and say to Michael, what a great character you turned out to be.