The other night at a friend’s birthday party, I was talking with some friends about what TV shows they’re watching. There’s so much good stuff on television these days that it’s hard to keep track. My friend Neesha’s Thursday night viewing schedule requires DVRing some shows that she catches up on during the weekend. But if you missed a show in its first run because you don’t have cable or it was cancelled before you had a chance to tune in, you can always catch up on DVD (well, at least if the show was released on DVD).
As a TV fan, I keep thinking about theme songs. How do they set the tone for the show? How do they convey characterization? What does song selection say about the show, its cast, and its creators? How is meaning changed if the song was written for the show or if it’s a popular song? How do legal processes intervene if popular songs were used and can’t get cleared? So I thought I’d start covering some of them here, and would greatly appreciate it if you fine readers threw out some suggestions.
The first theme song up for consideration pre-dates production, but very much fits the show’s early-1980s Michigan suburb setting. The song is a proud, snotty declaration about being an individual and not giving a damn about your bad reputation, which perfectly reflects the show’s unpopular teenaged ensemble.
It also gestures toward the show’s cult status. Though cancelled on NBC after barely a season, the show developed a rabid fan base. After jumping through several hoops to get all of the period-appropriate pop music cleared, the show was released on DVD, resulting in the widening of said fan base. Oh, and the song is by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Total bonus.
BTW, if you haven’t watched Freaks and Geeks before, you really need to get on the stick.
Top row: Ken Miller; second row: Neil Schweiber, Daniel Desario; bottom row: Bill Haverchuck, Sam Weir, Lindsay Weir, Kim Kelly, Nick Andopolis; image courtesy of rorylinnane.wordpress.com
There’s a lot to love about this show — its underdog cast, their attendant class baggage and/or compromised social standing, and the show’s expert balance of comedy with pathos are but few attributes.
I think the opening credits do an amazing job of distilling who and what the show is about. By using Joan Jett and the Blackhearts’ “Bad Reputation” to accompany picture day — that freak show day of hair gel, ugly sweaters, and constrictive suits – we immediately know who these kids are. Sam is the flustered late bloomer, Daniel is the hunky loser with mystique, Neil is the older-than-his-body dweeb showman, Ken is the tough guy who won’t smile, Nick is the doofy yet loveable stoner, and Bill is the gawky, aware kid who thinks all of this is nonsense. If only Daniel’s tough girlfriend Kim Kelly got her picture taken too. She could easily out-scowl Ken.
But my favorite picture-taker is Lindsay, who serves as the show’s protagonist. Now, I may be a little biased. I’m all about smart, bored, conflicted, proactive brunette characters and would like more of them to show up in Freaks and Geeks producer Judd Apatow’s subsequent film work. In the opening credits, I specifically love that Lindsay gives a guarded, toothless half-smile for the camera, only revealing her megawatt grin for a brief moment after the picture is taken. This brief moment perfectly captures the awkwardness of being a teenage girl growing up in public and wanting to defy expectations of what that might mean. Something tells me Joan understands, and isn’t afraid of any deviation.
