Television Review: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

“It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” (Season Three, Episode 9: “Sweet Dee’s Dating a Retarded Person,” FX)

Gold digging the mentally challenged, huffing toxic glue and a song about “a man who breaks into your house and rapes you” – sounds more like the FCC’s worst nightmare than an episode found on basic cable. Aptly described as “Seinfeld on crack,” FX’s original series, “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” adopts the groundbreaking show’s no hugs philosophy and amps up the chaos. With the characters at their most manipulative, the third season’s episode titled, “Sweet Dee’s Dating a Retard Person,” serves as a clinic on how to walk the tightrope of politically incorrect humor.

Told through the demented eyes of five barkeeps and their weekly get-rich-quick schemes, the typical “Sunny” episode satirizes taboo subjects ranging from sweatshops to dumpster babies. However, the show works best when it uses these broad concepts as a backdrop and focuses on the perverse relationships of its characters – something this episode managed perfectly. As suggested in the title, Dee (Kaitlin Olson) and Dennis (Glenn Howerton) investigate whether her current up-and-coming rapper boyfriend is mentally handicapped. Meanwhile, Mac (Rob McElhenney), Frank (Danny DeVito) and Charlie (Charlie Day) form a rock band called Chemical Toilet (a euphemism for a port-o-potty). The show could have churned out an easy parody of the music scene but how many more times do we need to be told the industry is a corporate sham? Luckily, the creators realized this and opted to relish in the lunacy of our five lovable sociopaths.

The show’s signature banter has become the biggest appeal for its audience. Despite being so mingled in each other’s affairs, nobody in the gang can see beyond their own needs and warped viewpoints. For example, Frank joins the band so he can convince the kids to “bop” with him. Yet, Mac is much more cynical. He insists, “the kid’s aren’t bopping anymore. They’re banging each other and doing meth before they hit grade school.”

While the humor can be crass at times, the purpose of the show is not meant to simply shock the audience. Tackling delicate issues poses the threat of becoming offensive, so “Sunny” makes the point clear that you aren’t supposed to be laughing with the characters, you’re supposed to be laughing at them. The joke of this particular premise is not that Dee’s boyfriend is possibly mentally challenged (for the record, we learned by the end he isn’t) but that Dee is such a pathetic and desperate person that she is willing to stoop so low as to take advantage of somebody.

An important aspect of straddling the fine line between funny and distasteful is character development. The gang doesn’t form a rock band just because that was all the writer’s room could come up with. Every action and every motivation faithfully follows each character’s specific logic. Nowadays, too many sitcoms – ahem, “The Office” – abandon the world they’ve created in favor of a whacky premise. However rude or manipulative or downright evil the gang can be, the audience at least knows who they’re going to be hanging out with for the next half hour.