by Billy Russell, Staff Writer

I still remember the ad campaign for Arrested Development and, at 17 years old, I thought the show looked dumb. Not just dumb, boring. At this time, networks were always trying to land the next big comedy—they mostly stunk. They’d be overly talky and not anywhere near as clever as they thought themselves to be, or they’d just be a black hole of humor, devoid of anything resembling laughs. These shows would be on for, like, half a season at most and then be unceremoniously cancelled and booted off the air.

So, I was surprised when I found myself watching the pilot episode to Arrested Development as it aired. I wasn’t excited for it. I was ready to hate it (being a cynical teenager just going into his senior year of high school saw to that), but there was nothing else on, I remember. This was the old days of TV. I was at the mercy of whatever was on. If nothing else was on, you either chose the lesser of however many evils, or you watched what you were sure you were going to hate, so that you could laugh at it.

It was very much to my surprise that I didn’t hate Arrested Development. Not only that, but I thought that it was very, very funny. I loved just about everything about that pilot, which I thought was weird even at the time, because during that era of television, most first episodes weren’t good. That was something we all went into—knowing it was some unspoken agreement. First episodes laid the groundwork. They introduced us to plots, to characters, to the entire dynamic. These episodes are usually too busy to be any “good,” in the classical sense. They’re like an extended trailer, in a way, that introduces you to the world of the show. And should you choose to accept, subsequent episodes will have all the stuff promised, or hinted at, in the pilot.

Arrested Development’s pilot episode was different, though. It felt fully formed. The laughs were genuine laughs. What really surprised me, though—both then and now—was how absolutely clever it was. It felt like a show that took years to get to that point. It felt like a show that had experimented, failed, learned, and grew—but this show was in its goddamned infancy. It was lightning in a bottle, is what it was.

The story is that of a “riches to rags” family that loses a fortune when the company owner and father figure George Bluth (Jeffrey Tambor) is arrested for nefarious dealings that may or may not include light treason. In his absence, the company is run by his son Michael (Jason Bateman), who must balance keeping the company float and dealing with the insanity of his family.

The entire cast is brilliant. Jessica Walter as Lucille was a walking meme before memes were a thing. The show launched the career of Will Arnett as GOB, the sleazy, idiotic brother. Portia de Rossi is perfection as Michael’s twin sister Lindsay. Then, in no particular order, you’ve got Michael Cera, Alia Shawkat, Tony Hale, David Cross and even Liza Minnelli for good measure. The whole thing is anchored by Ron Howard’s cheery narration, which has the ability to break every rule of network TV exposition and take us into a documentary-like dive into the past.

It's tough to describe exactly what it is that makes Arrested Development as successful as it is. So much of it is performed with a straight face—and Jason Bateman is the master of deadpan delivery—but it’s so exceedingly goofy that its straight edge makes it even more preposterous. The whole show is like a master-level course in effective silliness, to see grown adults behaving like morons and clowns, but milking every second for every available laugh. Everyone gives it their all, especially the writers, who recycle gags to wonderful effect. The gags aren’t just callbacks or senseless pandering to fans, it’s more like old vaudeville idea that repetition is comedy. Seeing these gags return again and again makes them even funnier.

In the ‘90s and early ‘00s, whenever a new show premiered, it was customary to meet with your friends the next day at school, usually before class began, and talk about it. I remember doing this with That 70s Show, Family Guy and probably dozens more. I tried to do this with Arrested Development, but no one had seen it. They, like me, thought it looked dumb. And boring.

Even then, I knew Arrested Development was a show destined to get cancelled and live long as a legend. It was too clever to be popular, but too funny and clever to be forgotten.

I never would have predicted where Arrested Development would have eventually gone, with all the cancellations, rebirths, moves to other networks (for that matter, I never would have predicted “streaming” as a thing to exist). Arrested Development, through its longevity, suffered in quality when it came back, resurrected from the grave, like some curse of a monkey’s paw—but for those original seasons on Fox, it was golden stuff.

After high school, I moved out of my parents’ house, got my own place with roommates, and we all started talking TV. I told them I had the first season of Arrested Development on DVD, and we should watch it. We all did, and we all laughed and loved it, but I was surprised as hell to find out there was not only a second season at that time, but that it was being renewed for a third. To me, that was just, like, the greatest gift of all.

I think maybe my opinion is in the minority here, but I thought the second season was perhaps a small dip in quality from the first, but still excellent TV, while the third season’s first half is excellent, and its second half is rather dire. It’s like after they found out cancellation was imminent, they went as lunatic and maniacal as they possibly could, and without restrictions the show went to wild, silly highs I wasn’t on board with. I won’t fault them for it—they were having fun. And as for the two “victory lap” Netflix seasons? Seeing them once was enough for me.

Arrested Development has been a joy in my life for twenty years now. I still own that season one DVD box set I bought when it was new. I took that thing with me on countless trips and introduced many, many folks to what was, at the time, my favorite television show.