The relationship of Troy & Abed was one of my favourite things about Community. Troy, the superstar high school athlete, and Abed, the genius film savant, surprisingly fit seamlessly like puzzle pieces and developed together through their multiple post-credits sequences. Across 4+ seasons, their paired adventures ranged from anchoring a fake morning show, building pillow forts, hosting Dungeons & Dragons parties, rapping “La Bibliotheca,” and engaging in epic schoolwide paintball battles. The end was abrupt for my favourite on-screen bromance. Just memories and that signature handshake live on.
When Donald Glover left Community a few episodes into season five, it was like a gut-punch to the little-show-that-could. Never acquiring high ratings, Community was beloved by a loud, vocal minority of human beings. As a fan of Glover (and Childish Gambino), I lamented his departure but hoped he would create other content. Donald’s talent was evident through the show and in his music.
Donald Glover’s reasons for leaving Community were outlined in a series of since-deleted Instagram posts. In pen, he poured his heart out about his fears and anxieties on a hotel notepad. He was afraid that choosing to step away from Community would be a huge mistake. Early feedback on Atlanta indicates his decision was not a blunder. If Donald didn’t take the time to work on his projects and release Because The Internet, we wouldn’t have Atlanta to digest.
Atlanta is adept at social commentary while avoiding what Donald Glover has referred to as clapter – unfunny, politically correct humour. While neither a comedy nor a drama, it does contain elements of both. Earn, Paper Boi, and Darius look to get by in their hometown through Paper Boi’s budding rap career. The angst, contemplations, and self-awareness outlined in Glover’s notepad scribblings are evident in Atlanta.
Within the second episode, the main character Earn is stuck in a “waiting room.” He meets a variety of individuals and is very much a fly on the wall for the duration of his stay. Mental health, heated arguments, indecipherable stories, police brutality, and an uncomfortable seating arrangement make this the last room Earn wants to be in. Eventually he is able to leave. Physically, he is unscathed.
Earn’s situation wouldn’t allow him to exit the room like Donald Glover was able to. The former had no choice, while the latter had a difficult one. As much as it pained Donald to leave, there was something he hadn’t yet realized and would never be able to if he remained involved in Community. Atlanta hints at the potential he was scared he would never tap into.
Watching Earn involuntarily and uncomfortably listen and interact with the people around him in that waiting room was a stark contrast to him manoeuvering his way out of a different situation in the show’s Pilot. In the first episode, Earn looks to his old friend Dave to put Paper Boi in rotation for the radio station he works for. Instead, he is rebuffed and told a humourless story about a company event where Dave resorted to calling the DJ a racially charged derogatory term after playing Flo Rida songs twice in a row. Unlike when he is stuck in the waiting room, Earn is able to manipulate the situation to where he not only gets Paper Boi on the radio but forces Dave to retell his previous story in front of Paper Boi and Darius. In the second recollection of the Flo Rida situation, Earn dares Dave to use the same language he had uttered nonchalantly when Earn and Dave were alone. He doesn’t take the bait.
I haven’t been in either of Earn’s situations, but I could relate to making a decision, being placed somewhere I didn’t want to be, and having to make the best of it in some manner. I stood with the wrong people, at the wrong parties. I either forged new connections or I was given poor introductions, subjected to put downs in a one-sided wingman role, or left to befriend well-established cliques not looking to welcome newbies. I stayed for my friends but quickly recognized I would rather be anywhere else.
Sometimes it takes friendships to end to realize that though you intended to support someone, you were better off placing yourself somewhere you wanted to be. The bittersweet end can come swiftly and surprisingly but the final outcome is better for everyone. If there’s an unlocked door in the room, walk out and realize your potential elsewhere. These relationships and situations don’t have to end acrimoniously but in hindsight, there can be something to gain from both parties by letting go and starting anew. I’m not saying any of us can just leave and make something as brilliant as Atlanta, but I do believe that we can walk into much more welcoming opportunities. There’s room for growth.