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By Matt Meier · September 14, 2011
With all the buzz surrounding Sunday’s series finale of Entourage, it’s no surprise that the finale of the lesser-known comedy Wilfred slipped under the radar of yesterday’s banter at my TV symposium class. It’s a shame, though—I found the latter to be far more compelling.
Although the final two episodes of the season aired on separate weeks, they are far more closely linked than previous episodes and essentially function as a two-part continuing narrative centered on Ryan’s courtship of Jenna, the titular themes of each episode being “Sacrifice” and “Identity,” respectively:
“Love is a willingness to sacrifice.” — Michael Novak
“The value of identity is that so often with it comes purpose.” — Richard R. Grant
Love provides the thematic core that unites the two final episodes, and thus the individual themes of sacrifice and identity for each one seem highly appropriate as both are defining qualities of love as a whole. As the first quote directly states, love is a willingness to sacrifice; but true love, as I’ve always understood it, is when that selfless affection for another becomes central to one’s own identity and, as the second quote suggest, motivates one’s sense of purpose in life.
Too bad the person Ryan loves happens to be in love (or at least in a relationship) with another guy.
Although I’m far from an expert when it comes to the topic of love, I certainly know a thing or two about falling for the seemingly unavailable. I think most of us have been down that road at least once, and based on my experience, it tends to lead down one of three paths: (1) she’s in a committed relationship, likes you only as a friend, and nothing ever happens; (2) she’s in a committed relationship, but finally says “fuck it” and you two are out of the friend zone for a few nights/months before one or both of you feel guilty/awkward about the whole thing and nothing more happens again; or (3) she ends the committed relationship and you play the role of the “rebound guy” for a few months before, well, things fall apart.
Oh, I guess I forgot about the fourth option—she leaves her boyfriend to be with you and the two of you live happily ever after—but that one is kind of like winning the lottery. Fat chance.
You see, when we watch a TV show or movie centered upon the classic guy-loves-girl-with-boyfriend storyline (or vice versa), we want to see option four, and Ryan’s affection for Jenna throughout the first season of Wilfred has felt increasingly like option one. As opposed to Jim and Pam on The Office—the ultimate “option four” couple and undoubtedly my favorite TV romance of all time—Jenna and Ryan never share any moments on the screen that suggest to us on that purely visceral level that the two are meant to be together. Instead, Ryan has frequently gone out of his way to please and impress a girl who has yet to provide any substantial evidence that his affection for her is mutually felt. Honestly, watching the first season of Wilfred was like watching a documentary series on my freshman year of high school. Always option one: she’s in a relationship, you’re just a friend, nothing happens.
Thus “Sacrifice” and “Identity” prove a refreshing change of pace for a courtship narrative that has been one of the more forgettable elements of this first season. In “Sacrifice,” Ryan finally awakens to the futility of his romantic pursuits with Jenna, and it was a pleasant surprise to see Ryan embrace the affection of an interested and available Italian beauty, Cinzia (Gabriella Pession). Things escalate so quickly between them that Ryan even starts packing his things as he plans to move out to Italy with Cinzia; but it comes as no surprise that Ryan never takes that next step and returns to Jenna once again. After unknowingly consuming a piece of cannabis candy at Ryan’s house, Jenna’s embarrassing on-air display during her first broadcast as a news anchor results in her immediate termination. Whether out of guilt that it was his candy or simply out of his unwavering loyalty to this girl, Ryan’s decision to act as Jenna’s lawyer and get back her job feels appropriate, and we know that his character has gotten all he can out of the brief fling with Cinzia before he allows her to leave for Italy without him.
This storyline sets the stage quite nicely for “Identity.” We sense that the fleeting but successful fling with Cinzia embeds a new foundation of confidence in Ryan. However, after Ryan relies on his old lawyer tricks of blackmailing opposing attorneys into settling in his client’s favor—in this case, winning back Jenna’s job on the condition she take a drug test—we suddenly see our frequently soft-spoken and unassuming protagonist take on a whole new dose of swagger. Ryan carefully manipulates the demise of Jenna and Drew’s relationship, and though his tactics may be morally ambiguous at best and reprehensible at worst, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t cheering for the guy a bit when he finally takes Drew out of the picture and seems in optimal position to make his move.
But Wilfred is far too unique a comedy to wrap up its first season with some banal sense of closure in the form of Jenna finally leaving Drew for Ryan, and you expect things to fall apart as we approach the final minutes of the finale. Wilfred has been working on his will throughout the episode, thus planting an ominous anticipation of what’s to come. When Wilfred jumps in front of the drug tester’s car to give Ryan enough time to swap Jenna’s urine with Kristen’s (which he obtained by threatening to expose her affair to her husband), everything quickly begins to unravel on numerous. But considering the show is already signed on for an extra season, we never once suspect that any serious tragedy would befall Wilfred as he lies unconscious in the hospital. So when Wilfred awakens from his coma and doesn’t recognize Ryan at all, and when Ryan runs to his house to search for Wilfred’s will in the basement, only to find that the basement in which they had spent so much time lounging throughout the season is in fact nothing more than a coat closet, and the season ends with Wilfred’s tennis ball falling from the top shelf, how are we supposed to react but with shock?
I expected the season to end with a note of ambiguity or some type of plot twist. But this is something far different. This is like Ed Norton realizing he’s Tyler Durden or Bruce Willis realizing he’s a dead guy, except this “oh shit” moment isn’t an answer: it’s a whole new question. We already knew Ryan is unstable to say the least. But for a basement that provided the backdrop for most the season to be a complete figment of his imagination, and for Wilfred to wake up and not even know who Ryan is—that’s not something you just throw in their for shock value and then neatly wrap up and move on from at the beginning of next season. The comedic value of the show has never truly been in question, and I don’t doubt that this will continue when the show picks up again next year. Everything else, on the other hand, well, I’m feeling about as lost as Ryan is right now. It appears the show has opened a door (both literally and figuratively) that won’t be an easy one to close, allowing for endless possibilities and zero expectations of what’s to come.