TVSquad

As a TV Squad contributor who, admittedly, could be considered a "niche viewer" (in that I watch few shows, but never miss an episode), I was naturally hesitant to check out Roommates on ABC Family. A friend guaranteed me that the show was not only as bad as one might expect, but that it was so utterly, bafflingly wretched that investing thirty minutes in it turned out way more entertaining than I'd expected, and not just in the so-bad-it's-funny way, either.

Roommates is so atrocious, its production should be considered a criminal offense, considering that, even as a basic cable program, hundreds of thousands of dollars (at the very least) have surely been invested in the show. And that's money that could have easily gone toward refugees or food banks or, say, into the budget of ABC Family's other critically lauded programming like Greek or Secret Life of The American Teenager.

(Speaking of which, can someone get us the name of the bigwig who gave the green light to the aforementioned gems before allowing something as idiotic as Roommates to hit the airwaves?)

Roommates begs the question of whether or not the show is the first of its kind to replace writers with robots programmed to sputter out random plot ideas and character profiles based on - I swear - every sitcom that lasted less than a season. Get this: aloof Mark bumps into high school crush Katie in an elevator, who mentions that she has a room open in her Brooklyn apartment. So Mark moves in, Katie remains clueless to Mark's pining ways, and hijinks ensue among all the roommates. So let's see...neurotic dude? Check. Vapid pretty chick? You bet. One "ethnic" character, offensive gay stereotype, and a wacky, odd-looking neighbor? Yes, yes, and yes. All for the taking.

Here's how you write Roommates: imagine Friends (replete with the enormous New York apartment that only exists... well, on television), but turn back the age of the cast members by ten years, remove any trace of actual humor, and insert one half of the twin duo that helped introduce Jackee Harry to tweenagers everywhere in the mid-nineties on Sister, Sister. Also, make sure to Tamera Mowry's just-fired character refers to herself as a former "TV executive," which will help stupid viewers realize that she was once very important.

But most mind-numbing thing about Roommates (and, believe me, there are a lot of elements to choose from) is the jarring overuse of a canned laugh track. Look, when a show isn't funny, a laugh track is a necessary tool used to provide viewers with a signal at what's meant to be especially funny. But someone in post-production seems to have gone overboard with Roommates, adding shrieks of laughter to the show could make the most passive of viewers highly suspicious. Yet, even more nuts, is that ABC Family has (unknowingly?) posted a clip of the show on its website sans laugh track, which, in itself, comes off like a cross between performance art, media criticism, and an incredible parody of the sitcom genre.


That deaf joke was a stroke of genius, huh?

Needless to say, I loved this show!