As NBC’s Godzilla has one day left until extinction, I am left
to wonder what is to become of our good friends. Quirky Chandler,
spacy Phoebe, oblivious Joey… oh really who am I kidding. If it
were last season maybe I’d care, but after struggling through this
season’s ridiculous offerings I have truly lost any interest in the
sentimental love-fest that “Friends” has decided to end with.
I guess going out with style – and laughs – is out of the
Everything is pretty much wrapped up actually. Monica and
Chandler are married and moving. Phoebe is married. Joey is taking
off in his own direction (“Joey” will be the only spin-off of the
series). And Ross and Rachel are, well, they’re, um, incredibly
I bet many of you are thinking right now, “Oh man, this guy is
such a hater. He is seriously sipping on some haterade. Oh geez,
the nerve to rip on ‘Friends.’ I just love ‘Friends.’ Remember when
Chandler and Joey owned the duck? That was great!”
Stop right there. You’re absolutely right. That was great.
“Friends” has been a great show. I have watched it fairly
loyally now for 10 seasons and it continues to provide me with
enjoyment to this day. Though nowadays the laughs come from
alternating reruns with “Seinfeld,” and not on Thursday nights.
I think the cast is one of the most talented to have worked
together on screen, especially considering they each bring six
different personalities to the table. The way in which they
interact and play off each other reminds me of my own group of
friends, and this is most likely true with a majority of their
audience. Situations they’ve been in, including Chandler’s “nubbin”
and Ross’ “we were on a break,” have lightened my days, both the
first time I saw them, and the many more times on syndicated TV.
And I could go on about Rachel for pages; but instead, I’ll just
think about her for a couple seconds and that should be
It seems though, that this 10th season must be what happens when
five of six friends decide, “You know, let’s not live on a TV set
anymore.” But then the sixth friend goes, “Guys come on, let’s
discuss this over a sandwich, and guess what? We’ll make at least a
cool million per episode.”
So this is what we’re stuck with. Phoebe got married in a
not-funny snow festival. Chandler and Monica are adopting a child,
which although it has comical points such as the baby’s father
perhaps having been a convict, is overall quite dull. And the big
cliffhanger: Ross and Rachel.
In the end, what does it matter? Either Ross goes to Paris with
Rachel and learns the French words for “lesbian” and “I love
dinosaurs, does anybody care?” Or Rachel stays in the United States
with Ross and tries to explain to her daughter Emma why she only
has one mother and a father while her half-brother Ben has two
mommies and one daddy. Or Rachel moves to Paris and lives happily,
while Ross, left in New York, buries himself amongst the bones he
studies. In the end, it’s all the same: over.
But don’t let this last season leave a bitter taste on your
palette. Let’s just chalk it up to overstaying one’s welcome.
Perhaps NBC should have followed the lead of HBO and let “Friends”
go out when they were at the top of the game, just as “Sex and the
City” did a couple months ago. And just as “Seinfeld” will live
forever in syndication, “Friends” will follow.
Anyway, NBC should have given me that $10 million an episode,
and-multiplied by the 18 episodes included in this last season –
with my $180 million dollars I would have been able to buy the
Collegian newsroom a couple windows, a parking lot for CSU,
invisible ink for the College Republicans, and a one-way ticket to
UNC Chapel Hill. I’m out.