Some of the best things in the world come split in two: Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Hostess CupCakes, The Daily Show followed by The Colbert Report. Yet there are also some things that function better as one and actually fail to impress when cut up into component parts. In the latter category, we find The Office.
It would be an understatement to say I’m getting bored with the constant segmentation of cast and story on The Office. The greatest thing this show has going for it is the dynamic between characters, so who has instructed all of the writers to split up the stories into several sections, each with only half of the cast (or less)? In “Gettysburg”, The Office proved again that, while it can still be fun to watch at times, when they loosen the story to include two different plots, they lessen the narrative.
Andy gives everyone the chance to travel with him to Gettysburg in pursuit of a metaphor that he believes represents Dunder Mifflin’s Scranton branch. The metaphor, vaguely relating Gettysburg to an internal battle within the office, does not resonate with anyone – even those that agree to go with him. But despite their clear disinterest, Andy drags them through the fields of Gettysburg telling what he believes to be truly inspired war stories.
Meanwhile, back in Scranton, Robert has instructed the remaining employees to come up with innovative ideas for the company.
The Gettysburg idea was, in general, not the worst. Andy is known for his constant effort to be well-liked and admired, even before he was Regional Manager. Even though the reality of taking a field trip to a tourist site during a work day is obviously unrealistic, in the context of this show it was admissible. But why did they have to only go part way?
Because The Office is so much an ensemble show, it really only works in two contexts. The first is that of interactions between all the characters – or perhaps several smaller groups if there is no large scale plot – within the typical office setting. The second is the context of singular characters and their personal experiences within the greater story. Most early episodes of The Office fall under the first category. They are not intense character studies, but instead they function as a broad introduction to the general character dynamic. And as for the second category, a great example is “Goodbye, Michael”, an episode that drew from the perspective of one main character and did not switch focus constantly.
In “Gettysburg”, instead of taking one of these prototypes for show structure, there was an attempt – and not an unusual one by current Office standards – to segment the show into two separate parts. While half the office was in Gettysburg humoring Andy, the other half were back in Scranton dealing with Robert’s ridiculous whims.
I suppose you could make the case for mirroring plot points. In both sections of the story there is a leader who does not quite know how to inspire their subordinates to move the company forward. And in the end, both also realize that they’ve been blind sighting themselves with their amorphous, abstract desires to incite change.
But implied morals to the story aside, there is an inherent flaw in this structure. We don’t get much of a connection between characters. Admittedly, Andy and Jim had a nice moment at the end of the episode where Jim reminds the new boss that he does not have to try so hard to make the office appreciate him for his leadership because they do that already. But other than that moment of revelation, the only aspect of “Gettysburg” that really held it together was the comedy.
That is not to say that comedy is not a perfectly adequate way to entertain on The Office. Dwight’s seemingly tall tales about Schrute Farms being the northern most battle site of the Civil War as well as Kevin’s suggestion for changes to the vending machines were acceptable running gags. But on The Office, I just expect more, and I’ve never thought that was too much to ask.
If a television show is great, it can capture you week to week, instilling you with a connection not only to the cleverness of the script, but the interactions between characters and the richness of the story. But split into two, one or two of those things are often lost. “Gettysburg” may have been a funny episode of The Office, and it's certainly worth praise for being so. But is cohesiveness so much to ask for?