Friends, family members, and fellow lovers of quality boob tube-age: We are gathered here today to mourn the fallen. In this so-called golden age of television, some of our best-loved programming has been taken from us too soon. They're high-quality TV shows, well-written and exquisitely acted. And now they're gone, leaving many of us to contemplate life's great mysteries, like why anyone would choose to watch The Real Housewives of Anywhere instead of Troy and Abed in the Morning.
But our mission today is not to demand answers from our all-knowing TV executive overlords. Our mission is to give these shows a proper and respectful sendoff into an afterlife of DVD sales and Hulu streaming. We'll miss you, old friends.
Bored to Death
It was an unlikely premise for a successful TV show, but that's what made it so great: A nerdy, socially awkward writer goes into the private detective business with the help of his ego-driven, sex-crazed editor and schlubby best friend. The cast was even more unlikely, drawing Jason Schwartzman, Ted Danson, and Zach Galifianakis together to a surprisingly deadpan, comic effect. In its final season, Bored to Death gave us gay furries, man-on-man love between Galifianakis and John Hodgman, and more pot smoking than your average season of Weeds. We hope there's plenty of weed and hipster chicks for you in heaven, good show.
If 24 didn't have enough moppishly handsome heroes or hot blonde super-spies for you, then Chuck was your show. It had action; it had comedy; it had all the CIA glamour of Homeland without stressing you out or making you think too hard. And it also had the time-tested storyline that usually sustains plenty of shows: two attractive characters who are attracted to each other but who can't quite seem to get together. Still, Chuck's series finale is fast approaching, so get ready to say goodbye to the delightful banter between Chuck and Sarah Walker forever.
The United States of Tara
Born from the post-Juno mind of Diablo Cody, Tara didn't shy away from any taboo topic: mental illness, teenage homosexuality, sitting on cakes in your lingerie on the Internet for money. But the show's real accomplishment was maintaining its irreverent yet compassionate tone throughout its three seasons. The Gregsons were a family like no other, but we loved them like they were part of our own. May T, Alice, Buck, Shoshana and the rest live on in our hearts now that they'll no longer live in Tara's mind.
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Prostitution in its female form has had a pretty good run on TV of late, from Secret Diary of a Call Girl to shows like Boardwalk Empire showing the glamorous side of the world's oldest profession. So it was nice to see a little male objectification on TV too -- and Hung did just that. But sadly, a show cannot survive on one giant dick alone. Fare thee well, Ray Drecker.
We know, we know -- Community hasn't officially been canceled. (It's on "indefinite hiatus.") But we're already missing its meta takes on tv stereotypes and genres -- not to mention Joel McHale's snark, Dean Pelton's costumes, and damn near everything Troy and Abed do together. So bring it back, would you, NBC? No, seriously -- we're begging.