The Office

But on "The Office," which was developed from the original British version in 2005 for NBC, some of the main characters are not at all likeable, and the plots hardly resemble reality. There are, I hope, no real versions of Michael Scott, the idiotic boss played by Steve Carrell. And, though I can't speak from experience, I'm almost positive that it is not common in the working world for an employee to bring road kill to work and propose he prepare it for lunch.

Yet the genius of "The Office" is that rather than facing the difficulties of everyday life, it actually identifies human psychological behaviors and exaggerates them to such an extent that they become ridiculous. Michael's neurotic need to be praised, which a psychologist would certainly find disturbing, is only another joke, another part of his quasi-sympathetic character. Jan (Melora Hardin) shacks up with Michael, despite the damage the relationship does to her career, not to mention her sanity, because she has "self-destructive tendencies." It's not entirely realistic, perhaps, but even the most outrageous characters' troubles, however improbable, still tap into something very real.

The show is set at Dunder-Mifflin, a fluorescent-lit regional paper company in Scranton, Pa. This dry, humorless backdrop contrasts sharply with the personalities that commingle within the cubicles. Most notable, in my opinion, is Dwight Schrute (Rainn Wilson), the assistant (to the) regional manager. Words can't do him justice. Pale, creepy and essentially harmless in spite of his propensity for making threats, he is an egotistical moron with an inability to laugh at himself. The archetype of the obsequious yes-man is exaggerated to great heights, but ultimately there is a "Dwight" in every office and every precept. The official torturer of Dwight, Jim (John Krasinski), is a lovable, floppy-haired guy who, along with his love interest Pam (Jenna Fischer), are the only "normal" people in the office. Though they are too numerous to name, the rest of the characters all contribute in their own way, their bizarre personalities adding to the tragicomic tone of "The Office."

Shot like a documentary by an anonymous cameraman, the show features characters opening up about themselves to a surprising degree while being individually interviewed. Though they often tell lies, the camera, whose presence is easy to forget, often shares footage with the audience that the characters would rather you didn't see. There is no laugh track and no background music, except for the merry jingle in the beginning of the show, so there is nothing to ease the pain during the many awkward pauses.

Unlike the fantastic and unattainable wardrobes in "Sex and the City," which separate the audience from the show and put Carrie Bradshaw in an entirely different stratosphere from our own, the characters on "The Office" wear perfectly ordinary work clothes, are not heavily made-up and aren't particularly attractive. They are seemingly perfectly normal. That is, until they open their mouths.

Thus it is easy to lose yourself in the (sur)reality of "The Office" and, despite the absurdity of the situations, to find parallels between real work and Dunder-Mifflin work. The only difference is that while watching "The Office," you wish it would never end.