Everyday your newspaper, television, and online news feeds are filled to the brim with an over abundance of hot button issues.
This morning it could consist of discussion starters such as gay marriage, abortion, marijuana legalization, the relaunch of a new and improved Full House sitcom series-
Yes, apparently fan message boards or out of touch Netflix board members really wanted the sappy snooze fest that aired from 1987-1995 back on the air. Either way, we are all disappointed in you.
In a day and age before large scale domestic terrorism, the Internet being as universal as water, and the standard TV package not including over 5000 channels, a show like Full House was a primetime feature for everyone. Yes, everyone.
Well, maybe except for those perverted teenagers watching Silk Stalkings on USA hoping for some sort of accidental nudity that would never come because the idea of the FCC was way too complex to digest.
Luckily, I don’t know those people.
But, we watched Full House, soon to launch as Fuller House because it was on, not because of the quality of the show. We look back at wholehearted and nostalgic kumbaya blubber because it’s no longer current and in the past. Finito! I could curtly say, Full House was an abomination. Let me briefly explain.
The program centered around a hodgepodge of characters who were more annoying than non-working pay phone. (Time period relevant! Get it?) Think about some of the flaws of this shit-show. Eternally, Uncle Jesse never had a job other than as the headliner of “The Rippers”, had a creepy obsession with Elvis Presley and the Beach Boys, and continued living in the attic of his brother in-laws house even when he was married (to a TV personality!) with kids!
Oh, I’m not done.
The house patriarch, Danny Tanner, who had his own demons with a quest for a forever clean house, invited his friend, Joey Gladstone to live in the basement. Even as a child, this dynamic creeped me out. He eventually got a TV job as a ventriloquist to “Mr. Woodchuck”, but continued to call the nether regions of the Tanner manor his home.
I won’t bore you with rest of the details of this train wreck that may or may not include a Steve Urkel cameo, Beach Boys-Rippers calabo, or an episode where Kimmy Gibbler gets completley shitfaced.
The point is we don’t need to recreate the past because we simply watched it. Yes, the rumors are the show will mostly revolve around Candace Cameron-Bure (DJ Tanner) and her life, but still it’s unneccesary.
In the recent past, Netflix has served as some sort of final rites for a series that didn’t get its due diligence to end properly like The Killing or Arrested Development. But, Full House ended. There was finality and certainly no loose ends that constituted a spinoff.
But, don’t let my cynicism stop you from “enjoying” the present day Tanners. Just remember Bob Saget has a filthy comedic mouth, the Olsen twins are now cigarette smoking drabs who date old billionaires, John Stamos loves Greek yogurt and looking beautiful doing it, and Jodie Sweetin’s biggest accomplishment is kicking Mr.White’s baby blue.
Oh, and also remember the show sucked.
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