Friends: The ultimate comfort watch

When you look at it, I mean really look at it, there doesn’t actually seem to be anything particularly special about Friends. I mean, it’s not exactly an inspired concept for a sitcom. A bunch of friends, hanging about, getting into funny situations. The clue’s kind of in the name. And it’s not one of those cases where the simplicity of the idea is made up for with its originality. Seinfeld had found success five years earlier as a ‘show about nothing’ – just a few friends talking and living their lives. Friends owes an obvious debt to the earlier show, which at times borders on feeling derivative.

So why the global success? Why the cultural ubiquity? Why do I and millions of others like me, who weren’t even around in the show’s hey-day, still feel drawn to Friends as if we can still remember those times?

There’s no shortage of people willing to offer an explanation on this point. One you hear a lot is that the characters are relatable. People think they’re a Chandler, or a Monica, or a Phoebe (I’ve never heard anyone claim that they’re a Joey). That may be true for some people, but certainly not for me. I’m not a neurotic clean freak, a dull-witted womaniser, an orphaned hipster who grew up on the streets, a wise-cracking suit with mummy and daddy issues, or a straight up psychopath (Ross lovers; go see a therapist). I don’t want to sound conceited, but compared to the cast of Friends I think I’m fairly normal.

But that still leaves us with this question. Why do we love the show so much?

Friends carefully crafts itself into the ultimate comfort watch

Throughout its 10 seasons, Friends carefully crafts itself into the ultimate comfort watch, a piece of reassuring nostalgia so powerful, it continues to hold a cherished place in the lives of people of all ages across the globe. When I watch the show, I’m filled with a warm, familiar feeling, like I’m returning to my childhood home.

Part of the reason for this may be that the show is associated with some of my earliest memories; when I was growing up, there was always an episode of Friends on in the background in my house, and my family and I still frequently throw around our favourite quotes and one-liners from the show to this day.

But I think it goes further than this. That feeling of comfort, of safety even, is more powerful than just familiarity. No matter what’s going on in my life or the outside world, when I’m watching Friends, it feels like everything is going to be alright. I’ve watched the finale a hundred times, yet I still wait with bated breath as Ross yells at his answering machine, still feel myself flood with relief when I hear Rachel say: “I got off the plane.” Sometimes, I want to believe that life has such a happy ending in store for all of us. The unfortunate reality is that many of us are still stuck on that plane, left with the choices we’ve made and regrets we can’t undo. Friends provides a comforting escape from this reality.

The show is like a time capsule of the ’90s and early ’00s, yet it only preserves a very specific part of that period. The six friends’ lives, with their spacious New York apartments, their upwardly mobile professional careers, and their trendy-coffee house hangouts exist in a privileged bubble.

Not once in the show is any reference made to politics or contemporary global affairs. The outside world seems to pass over this insular, middle-class world, leaving it undisturbed. The picture which Friends paints of the period from which it emerges is an untroubled and unburdened one, in which the vicissitudes of global politics have no bearing on one’s private life, and the most important problem anyone could have to face is why their roommate isn’t more sad that they have to move out.

Friends is a way to forget about the doom and gloom of real life for a while

The fantasy of this world becomes all the more striking when we remember the reality of the period. The US invasion of Iraq, genocide, and the events of September 11^th are just a few of the world-shaking moments which the characters of Friends lived through, and which the show chooses to ignore.

This isn’t entirely unusual for a sitcom. The genre isn’t known for its political commentary or social awareness. But even the most traditional will often slip in a mocking political parallel or a momentary fourth wall break as a nod to contemporary politics. But not Friends. The events of the outside world remain a remote and insignificant reality to the lives of the characters. There’s never a sly wink or a knowing moment of satire. Nothing to betray the illusion of insularity.

One could criticise this fantasy which the show indulges in as conservative, and that would be fair. But as I said, no one switches on a sitcom looking for urgent political messaging. While it is important to acknowledge that the bubble which the show creates is a fantasy, and a privileged one at that, it is also ok, every once in a while, to enjoy the sanctuary of that bubble.

Sometimes (frequently these days) the world appears to be heading off of a cliff, and our personal lives with it. For me, and I’m sure for many others, Friends is a way to forget about the doom and gloom of real life for a while. It’s a fairytale world, where we can believe everything will become good in the end. To return to the question posed at the start of this article; that’s what’s so special about Friends. When we’re watching it, we can forget about the outside world and believe in a happy ending. Friends lets us believe, even if only for a moment, that we can still get off that plane.