Ashley Spurgeon is a lifelong TV fan — nay, expert — and with her recurring television and pop-culture column "And Another Thing," she'll tell you what to watch, what to skip, and what's worth thinking more about.
One of my favorite shows is Everybody Loves Raymond. Hopefully, this isn’t a controversial or laughable opinion, because it’s legitimately one of the best American sitcoms of our time. It’s perfect background fodder, it’s bingeable, and you can break down each episode into its component parts and marvel at how well they all work together.
The series really got more than its fair due — it was critically lauded to such a degree that weirdos are still writing paeans about it almost 15 years after its last episode. Plus, it was legitimately popular during its entire nine-year run, and everyone except Peter Boyle won an Emmy. The only thing that really bums me out about it is, I’m afraid too many people have the wrong impression of it.
If you’ve assumed it’s a fairly conventional sitcom about a family of jerks who yell at one another all the time, you are exactly correct. But please, don’t miss out on the nuance in the yelling, the reasons why these people are so screwed up. Ray Romano is Ray Barone, husband to Debra (Patricia Heaton), son of Marie (Doris Roberts) and Frank (Peter Boyle), and brother to Robert (Brad Garrett). Frank and Marie messed up their kids really bad, and everyone needs years of deep psychotherapy. It is hilarious.
Ray is dad to three kids, but they’re barely in it — which is great, because the kids are always the worst part of any family sitcom. Please do not assume this show is not self-aware. (There’s an episode in which one of the kids writes a short story called “The Angry Family,” and everyone has to go see a counselor.)
Everybody Loves Raymond is also weirder than you might expect. Robert dates a girl who eats something disgusting at the dinner table. (What disgusting thing? You’ll just have to watch to find out!) You might not know Chris Elliott had a recurring role on the show as Robert’s brother-in-law Peter, and you definitely wouldn’t know that character was originally called “Russell” and portrayed by Paul Reubens.
Is there corniness? Oh good Lord, yes. Steve Miller Band’s “Jungle Love” was the theme song for the last few seasons, there’s a beleaguered, jaded priest, and basically all the adults are ginger-ale-quaffing nerders who probably ain’t never said a cuss word. But don’t be fooled: This corniness is, in fact, the hidden entryway to deep zen.
Ray is a sportswriter, and other than the occasional celebrity cameo — hey look, it’s Desmond Howard! — and their young daughter’s brief fasciation with “Hakidu” trading cards from Japan, the show stayed so far from the topical, it managed to slip into timelessness. It ably straddled the millennia, running from 1996 to 2005 — Robert Barone is a police officer in the NYPD, but 9/11 is never referenced. In a lot of ways, it’s the perfect ‘50s sitcom that never existed.
Partially because of this, I think there’s a perception it’s a conservative or sexist show. Wrong! It’s a show that portrays a Long Island Italian Catholic family, most of whom are fairly conservative. And yes, Frank is definitely sexist. So is Ray, really. But in true zen fashion, it’s totally apolitical, and the casual cultural sexism is ... an accurate portrayal of the world that we live in?
The Barones’ most important identity is Italian American, anyway. Robert’s in-laws — placid, whitebread, beige conservative Christians (Fred Willard and Georgia Engel, the casting!) — are fascinated by the family’s Catholicism from an anthropological point of view. There’s even a “Trip to Italy” episode, and everyone (except Debra) throws some oomph into it when they say manicotti.
Debra! Oh, poor Debra. I’ve spent many hours watching and rewatching this show, and can provide some truly devastating deep readings. An obvious one is Everybody Love Raymond can be seen as the story of how Marie Barone’s personality disorder, whatever it may be (trust me, it’s something), wreaks havoc on the lives and mental health of those who love her most.
But the most tragic character is, of course, Debra. Clearly ready to settle down and start a family, she picked the first halfway-decent-looking dude who made her laugh. The most devastating fact of the show, of course, is that Debra should have been with Robert instead of Ray. Ray is terrible, dimly realizes it, and rarely attempts to improve himself. Of the three male characters on the show, he is the least respectful of his wife, profoundly emotionally immature, and generally just a horny, kinda dumb 14-year-old in in a grown man’s body and life. Robert’s fucked-up too, but honestly he would be totally fine if they moved a few hours away.
But they — especially Debra — will never move away from Frank and Marie. Complete viewing reveals all. Much like the mysterious Uncle Max from Calvin and Hobbes, Debra has a one-off sister, introduced only to run away and become a nun. Debra was, presumably, raised Catholic, but it’s gradually revealed she probably wasn’t really “raised” at all. Her rich parents — Katherine Helmond (!) and Robert Culp — travel all the time, and apparently hated one another.
So Debra grew up lonelier than she wants to admit, and she will never leave the hell of her own making, because at least it’s company. Incredible stuff!! Anyway — I could go on. Tell your kids to watch this instead of The Office, we need new memes. Thanks!
