High School Gets Gleeky

I didn’t want to like “Glee.” It first entered my consciousness last May when a friend told me about the cast’s cutesy version of “Don’t Stop Believing.” Um, what? You do not cover in your series premiere a song featured prominently in “The Sopranos” series finale. What kind of young TV upstart would dare take on that legacy?

The Journey cover topped the iTunes charts, and it would’ve made Tony’s Uncle Junior puke all over his gabagool. I watched five minutes of the first episode and decided that “Glee” was inane, idiotic, insipid, and many other angry adjectives. And the worst part? I really, really liked it.

Ryan Murphy, executive producer of “Glee,” told Variety that he was the lead in every one of his own high school musicals. I’m not surprised. “Glee” revels in its lameness, much like the socially-marginalized students that are its focus. To enjoy “Glee,” we must embrace our inner dork.

“Glee” is a musical dramedy that follows an embattled glee club at a high school in Lima, Ohio. In the midst of each episode’s quirky, maudlin plot points, the main ensemble cast of 12 performs upwards of five elaborately choreographed songs.

The show has undeniable street cred, even if that street is Broadway. The L.A. Times reported that Murphy shunned traditional pilot casting meat markets to spend three months scouting for talent on New York stages. Matthew Morrison, who plays the excruciatingly sincere glee club director Will Schuester, is known for his Tony-nominated performance in “The Light in the Piazza.” Lea Michele (dorky diva Rachel Berry) originated the role of Wendla in the musical “Spring Awakening.” And “Glee” has already enjoyed semi-explicable cameos by Broadway stars like John Lloyd Young of “Jersey Boys” and the effervescent Kristin Chenoweth.

It seems that “Gleeks”—the all-too-appropriate nickname for the show’s fans—are all around us. Joss Whedon, beloved creator of “Firefly” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” has signed on to direct an episode. Musicians like Billy Joel and Rihanna have offered to lower the licensing rates for the use of their songs on the show. According to “Entertainment Weekly,” we can expect an episode exclusively featuring the music of Madonna next year. The cast will sing the national anthem at Game 3 of the World Series and an off-season concert tour is already in the works.

But, musical talent aside, “Glee” hits plenty of wrong notes. The machinations of the popular kids are, at best, arbitrary; football players and cheerleaders quit and join glee club quickly enough to give you whiplash. Shop teachers and football coaches alike are miraculously revealed to be incredible singers and dancers, and new song arrangements are learned with telepathic speed. I’d call it “deus ex machina,” but there’s hardly any machina.

“Glee” has all the trappings of cheesy television—mismatched couples and star-crossed couples, a teen pregnancy and a fake pregnancy. Jessalyn Gilsig, best known for her role on “Heroes” as Claire’s unstable, alarming birth mother, is a little too overwhelming as Will’s unstable, alarming wife. But the show revels in its vapidity and mixes a healthy measure of arsenic in with the saccharine. As soon as you’re lulled into sleepy, bored complacency, you’ll be violently roused by snark.

That’s where the show’s greatest asset comes in: Jane Lynch as monomaniacal cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester, my favorite tracksuit-wearing TV character since Paulie Walnuts. You’ll recognize Lynch, one of the most underrated comic actresses of her time, from her genius turns in Christopher Guest movies or as super-creepy Paula in “The 40-Year-Old Virgin.” Another highlight is Jayma Mays as Emma Pillsbury, the school’s winningly mysophobic guidance counselor.

Glee club, show choir, ostentatious singing and dancing for attention—whatever you want to call it, it’s a fundamentally frivolous endeavor. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. If we think about the primetime television lineup in terms of high school stereotypes, “Glee” is exactly the kid it glorifies: eager to please and heartwarmingly dorky. I’m willing to forgive the show its plot holes and character inconsistencies, if only because it means well.