The extraordinary career of Jason Katims, which began in the "So-Called Life" era, has to do with small towns.
In "My So-Called Life," the town takes the form of a high school; everyone is in everyone's business. One's decision to dye one's hair has substantial sociological implications. A love triangle becomes the talk of the town. Boundaries are crossed; seismic shifts may occur when a "good kid" needs to tutor a "bad kid" in math.
Katims went on to "Friday Night Lights," the feather in his cap. Here, the "town," another high school, is the setting for anything and everything: extramarital flirtation, economic warfare, racial awkwardness, abortion fighting, theft, mental illness, drugs, power struggles. Essentially decent people make mistakes, and attempt cover-ups, and the farcical lying is always worse than the actual "crime."
So "Parenthood" is a reasonable variation on a theme. It's hard to believe that, in this era, four grown children would all live within a stone's throw of one another, and the "senior" parents would also be nearby, somewhere in or around Berkeley. (I guess weirder things have happened.) But this calculation allows for a kind of "Wild West" setup: The "campus" is the extended family. The sheriff, the grandfather, butts in when grandkids have romantic issues, and when thirtysomethings find themselves at the hospital. Jockeying for power occurs at a (questionable) business site: Two brothers run a recording company together. This is partly a campus novel, but it's also a domestic novel: We have interludes in which we learn about one couple's sex life (called "Funkytown") and another couple's money woes (struggles that result in some unfortunate housing decisions, arrangements no one would want to contemplate at the age of forty).
Katims is at his best when he gets creative with entanglements. For example, one woman sort of cheats with her boss, while her boyfriend manages her adolescent kid. The boyfriend is an English teacher at the local high school, so he understands that the kid is having some kind of emotional crisis. (He sees this more clearly than the actual foggy-headed mother is capable of seeing.) After a messy split-up, the boyfriend must still alert his ex that her son is spiraling. Meanwhile, the ex has a chorus of sisters-in-law, offering unsolicited opinions ("He was wrong for you, he was essentially a teenager.....") This is handled so deftly; it's like Stephen King's various feats of world-building.
Katims had his most recent show canceled, but I think we're not done with him. I look forward to whatever he is drafting in his head.
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