How does a television show stay fresh? In particular, how does a sitcom as high-octane as 30 Rock — in the sheer volume of jokes and allusions it burns through each episode — stay consistently funny and original season after season? Well, first off, a show like 30 Rock feeds on current popular culture and politics as a (limited) source of material. But the bulk of the producers’ work inevitably goes into developing the characters, which is no easy task. It calls for a careful balance of fresh situations for our beloved cast to encounter, exposing new sides of their personalities and staying true to their core identities. With all this in mind, “Dance Like Nobody’s Watching” starts off somewhat unevenly, trodding well-worn territory, but gains momentum, eventually offering enough unexpected character and plot developments, as well as moments of intriguingly surreal tone, to deliver a cautiously optimistic forecast for the sixth season.
This episode contains an unexpected emphasis on unusual tones and textures, both in the photography and writing. A particularly surreal moment comes when Frank, Kenneth, Toofer, Lutz, and Pete, dressed in costumes of the devil, Santa and god knows who else, end up at the beach just after dark. A luminescent red ferris wheel backlights them at a distance as they look out into the water, composing an uncharacteristically poetic and pensive image.
Jenna now co-judges an American-Idol-for-kids reality TV show, making her penchant the abuse of its adorable, wide-eyed contestants (her catchphrase, which she repeats three times to ensure a good take: “Go jump back up your mother!”). Towards the episode’s end, a contestant performs a slow-shuffle arrangement of a folk song on the TV that Jack watches with his baby, Liddy (the mother is a North Korean hostage, but that’s a different story). The song is quite touching and moves Jack too, who reflects in an outpouring of emotion, “being a parent is like wearing your heart outside of your body.”
Liz Lemon’s behavior departs from the norm, also—she is unusually happy, and unstressed. Tracy’s antics and Jack’s barbs about her love life (he has signed her up for a dating service called Desperationships.com) can barely shake her, and in a cute moment, she jaunts down an avenue that turns to vivid hand-drawn animation.
These vagaries of style and writing give the episode an interesting texture, but nevertheless cannot substitute for inspired jokes and character development, which the episode takes some time to deliver. Initially, the humor is hit-and-miss, alternating jokes that should be funnier, but aren’t, with some more inspired nuggets (Liz, bragging about one contestant’s compelling backstory: “both her mothers were serial killers—that’s America!”). Kenneth’s story revolves around his expecting the Reckoning (2010 reference!) the following day. At first, it seems in line with typical Kenneth southern-reactionary style behavior. However, his story then intersects with that of Frank, Tufer, Lutz, who attempt to prank him, and, finally, the reckoning does not come. These developments give his experience more depth and a melancholy humor, as Kenneth finally stands dejected, but deep-down still positive, in his neon green Reckoning spandex. (The baffling season five ending that seemed to suggest he was up to something nefarious has not yet been addressed.)
Generally, the episode picks up when the characters intersect with each other’s story lines, allowing the show’s trademark rapid-fire allusive humor to take on the extra-depth of situational comedy. For instance, Tracy begins to spy on Liz to determine the cause of her “off” behavior, which leads to him suspecting she’s been buying and doping. The image of her dancing along the avenue then takes on a newer, funnier significance. Tracy and then Jack’s interest in Liz’s life eventually leads to the episode’s biggest twist. Intrigue. All in all, you may be thinking, what is going on? Liz’s positive attitude, her new interests—she’s on a WNBA team cheer squad, randomly—this mysterious man; Jack’s flirtation with the softening of fatherhood. Even Tracy has a moment with Liz in which he recognizes his juvenile behavior as a 43-year-old. But this is all a part of trying to keep the show fresh, not changing it fundamentally. All in all, this episode provides a decent launching pad for a season that will hopefully explore more fully these characters’ struggles with their identity issues, while never rendering them unrecognizable.