So here we are, seven years later, and our Bluths have finally been saved. If you haven’t been keeping up with “Arrested Development” (which likely means you aren’t part of the show’s frothing and obsessive fanbase in the first place), here’s the deal: “Arrested Development,” frequently lauded as one of the funniest shows on television for its intelligent, rapid fire and frequently painfully subtle humor was cancelled back in 2006 as it’s constant deluge of critical praise and fervent cult following failed to keep the ratings buoyed for a show that, admittedly, benefitted better from the repeat viewings of DVDs than weekly airing.
Fans were frequently teased with prospects of a movie, goaded on by creator Mitch Hurwitz and effectively every member of the main cast. Sadly, this never came to fruition. Fast forward several years and Netflix—sensing an opportunity for mass cashing-in, has decided to finance a new season of the cult television show—releases all 15 episodes at the same time online for streaming. And after months and months of buildup and slow reveals, here we are.
But enough exposition—the long prophesied Season 4 has finally arrived, and it sure is a doozy. I’ve only had one opportunity to watch it all the way through (which basically prohibits a conclusive verdict, as a re-watch of the much-better-the-second-time-through Episode 1 proved), but I generally enjoyed what I saw. On the surface it’s a very different beast than what viewers have come to know and love from past seasons, but the heart is still the exact same “Arrested Development,” and that’s a miracle in and of itself.
The season opens with a scattered Bluth family in dire straits five years after the end of Season 3, immediately setting a considerably darker, more dour tone for the 15 episodes. A disheveled Michael, who we’re told owes $700,000, walks through Lucille Bluth’s “Cinco de Cuatro” festival, an immediate callback to the Bluth’s shared misunderstanding of all things Spanish—good joke, eh, Hermano?—and attempts to seduce Lucille 2, long time patron of the Bluth family—both financially and sexually—from who Michael has borrowed money.
Shortly afterward he stumbles back to the family’s model home (in a changed shirt) and confesses to his brother GOB he has done something terrible. GOB starts a concerned but confusing diatribe before Michael catches sight of GOB’s off-screen lover upstairs, prompting GOB to force a Forget-Me-Now down Michael’s throat, stroking Michael’s head and cooing “stupid, forgetful Michael” in the hilarious way only Will Arnett could ever pull off. The episode then rewinds back five years until right after Lucille Bluth’s hijacking of the Queen Mary and slowly works its way back to the Cinco de Cuatro—the season’s ultimate end point.
The narrative structure seems confusing at first (possibly because it very much is) and I’ve heard more than a few complaints about having a hard time figuring out when the episodes take place chronologically, but after an hour or two you start to get a feel for how the whole thing’s structured. Due to issues with actor availability, this season spends each episode dedicated to an individual character (with narrator Ron Howard stating “It’s (character name)’s Arrested Development” during the opening of every episode), and each episode likewise takes place at roughly the same time as every other episode in the season, albeit from a different perspective.
Most characters get two episodes, culminating with their experiences at the Cinco de Cuatro, each one revealing more and more of the jumbled plotline, stacking upon previous jokes all the while in traditional “Arrested Development” fashion.
This works and also doesn’t.
You don’t get a tremendous amount of interaction between the characters, who, all well developed and three-dimensional in their own right, often times hit their stride interacting with each other. At the same time, characters who were otherwise relegated to being a generally minor part of the family’s dynamic (Maebe and Tobias especially), really prove to be malleable and hysterical characters even when they’re left to fend on their own.
However, George Sr. and Lindsey’s episodes are easily the worst of the bunch—Lindsey’s materialism and directionless quest for self realization has been done to death and doesn’t fare much better here, and George Sr.’s bizarre reaction to a drug he consumes frequently in the desert makes for a mildly uncomfortable and decidedly unfunny plotline. Then, of course, there are the GOB episodes, which, surprising to only those who’ve never seen Will Arnett’s stellar portrayal of the dimwitted and poor intentioned magician, are by and far the best hour of the season.
Even if it’s unbalanced and relies too much on plot and mystery over the show’s distinct humor (which I don’t think it does at all, but countless inflamed voices online disagree with me), it’s hard to outright dislike this season. It feels less like Futurama or Family Guy’s sluggish crawl back to television and more like… some other esoteric example of revived television that’s been wildly triumphant.
Even if things are different—and they certainly are—they aren’t really that different. There are new jokes en masse; “Getaway” playing all over the season, GOB spacing out and hearing “Sounds of Silence” every time he makes a mistake, and most of them are just as funny as anything in the original run (and generally better than anything in the still too wacky third season). If those don’t do it for you, there’s still lowbrow lawyer Bob Loblaw and his trademark law bombs, shark-jumping lawyer Barry Zuckerkorn, an attempted chicken dance… And with the season’s various unsolved mysteries and a decidedly epic and much deserved final punch, the show ends on a high note with enough material to continue on into infinity—or at least a movie—and that’s something every fan should be more than excited about.
