by Kait Valdez
From an addiction standpoint, I guess you could say my roommates and I have an unhealthy relationship. We feed each other's compulsion to consume as much programming as possible, bringing different shows to the table and watching an entire series sometimes two or three times through just to make sure everyone has seen it. Admittedly, most of the time I'm the instigator; the asshole who insists that everyone "watch this amazing show I just found." And for the record, I stand by every recommendation I've made. But, every once in a while, it's one of my roommates who comes to us with a show of their own. Although it happens infrequently, this was the case with the half-hour Comedy Central show, Workaholics (a "watch it on netflix" suggestion of the week made by Talor Jacobs on last Friday's show). Now, to be completely honest, it was my 18-year-old brother who originally told me about the show, but I pretty much ignored the recommendation because, come on, it was my little brother. Anyway, the point is, my roommates and I ended up watching both seasons and despite the fact that I wouldn't call it a "good" show, I think it deserves a certain amount of exploration.
For those of you who are unfamiliar, Workaholics is a show about three infantile twentysomethings, Adam, Blake and Anders (or Ders for short), who split their time between substance abuse and their jobs as the worst telemarketers known to man. Although the plot might seem mind-numbingly simplistic, it's the characters that make the show worthwhile. Like making new friends, it takes a couple episodes to get into the feel of the show, but once you're in with the gang, both their antics and their conversations become undeniably entertaining. As anyone who knows me well could tell you, I'm big on quotablity (in fact it was my "#1 reason to watch" Portlandia week). If I like a show or a movie, I will find a way to quote it in everyday conversation, even if I'm the only one who gets the reference, it's a compulsion. And, much to my enjoyment, Workaholics is most definitely quotable. So much so, in fact, that it's not uncommon in my house to hear the term 'tight butthole' bandied about. It's the kind of show that starts off funny but gets funnier when you talk about it later. However, this is only the case, I would argue, for a very narrow demographic.
For those of you who didn't understand that whole 'tight butthole' thing, check out the clip. Sorry for the poor quality.
Created by its stars, Adam DeVine, Blake Anderson and Anders Holm, the show is basically the latest in the progression of YouTube "broadcast yourself" culture. A culture comprised of my peers. Those who grew up in a world of instant gratification and constant technological advancement. The Workaholics boys and I are of the same generation, a fact that became glaringly obvious in an episode from the first season where Blake professes his adoration for Double Dare host Mark Summers. Prompting all 90s kids to simultaneously experience a warm synergistic feeling of unity and nostalgia, for we too remember both the host and the show. But I digress, my point was we're of the same generation, meaning we all grew up with the ability to fairly easily gain access to a camera and create any inane content we so chose. Some of us stuck to the classic format of script writing then shooting. Other, braver (or perhaps just lazier) amateur filmmakers went for the basic plot structure + adlib approach. While the boldest among us decided they were hilarious enough completely unscripted, dropped the sides and the guidelines, and just shot their everyday life. This self-indulgent content gained relevance with the upsurge of YouTube usage in the mid-2000s and as an inevitable progression, it made its way to our television screens in the form of shows like Workaholics.
Now, as a writing student, I've heard the saying "write what you know" more times than I can count, but I've also been told that you should never write about your friends, because you inevitably think they are far more amusing than anyone else ever will. Well, it seems as though the Workaholics boys were never given this bit of information (either that or they completely disregarded it) because as far as I can tell, they're all playing themselves (and with far more success than my professors suggested was possible). A fact that is so thinly veiled that the stars Anders Holm, Adam DeVine and Blake Anderson play characters named Anders Holmvik, Adam DeMamp and Blake Henderson. Although this doesn't definitively state that the actors are in fact playing themselves, I received further evidence of this theory's validity a couple of weeks ago. My roommates and I were watching an episode from the second season where Blake jumps off of the roof. Not fifteen minutes later, I read an article online that said Blake Anderson had recently broken his back by jumping off a roof. I became caught in a paradox of life, imitating art, imitating life, imitating art... Where does the character start and the man end or vice versa? Is Workaholics technically a reality show? Is writing even a viable profession anymore or is all programming going to become a voluntary Truman Show of sorts? These are the questions that haunted my dreams for weeks afterward.
All right, so that's an exaggeration, but it did make me think. Now, I'm not saying that Workaholics is any less entertaining for the fact that it's a self-indulgent offshoot of YouTube culture, or that it lacks merit because the actors play exaggerated versions of themselves (in fact that's exactly how some of my favorite shows...ahem, Portlandia... operate), but what I'm saying is that, for this reason, it is perhaps the quintessential representation of us as a generation thus far. For better or worse, we are self-indulgent and we enjoy the loud, fast and ridiculous (three words that effectively describe Workaholics). So, this show speaks to us in a voice we can relate to. We know these guys, hell, some of us are these guys. And it is most likely due in no small part to the fact that the actors are so true to themselves. It may not be the best-written show on television, or have the most clever or high-concept of plots, but if you are between the ages of say, fifteen and twenty-nine in the year 2012, this show is for you. It's yours, so take from it what you will. That being said, if you're over thirty, there is a strong likelihood that Workaholics will not register. It takes a certain mindset and a good amount of youth and immaturity to appreciate the antics of Anders, Adam and Blake. Youth and immaturity I'm proud to say I still possess because, to me, growing up seems pretty loose butthole.
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