Patrick Duffy of Step by Step fame! Weed cookies and a white lady named Rihanna! Megan Mullally’s character on coke! So many memories.
If you read our twitter (I won’t blame you if you don’t. Honestly.), then you know that the Greatest Show on Earth, not to be confused with the Greatest Show of Our Time, is no longer. Like so many other critically adored comedies (Arrested Development, anyone?) that no real people actually pay attention to, Party Down is kaput. A goner. Out and out. I would cry if I were able.
A wonderfully hilarious season finale, graced with the presence of a daft and wonderful Jane Lynch, became a series finale. Why, God?! WHY! Well yes: low ratings, cast members going elsewhere because of contract somethings, I understand all of that. But what a brilliant show, competing in meta-ness with the king of meta, 30 Rock: Party Down is a bunch of actors that you can’t place, playing actors-cum-caterers that can barely get acting gigs.
Methinks that part of Party Down‘s success was that it was on Starz. What good ever comes from Starz? But because of that channel, there were no expectations, nothing was off limits. There was nothing tasteful about Party Down, just sheer brilliance and hilarity, a sea of has been guest stars (um, Steve Guttenberg?) drugs, and secret gayness. Just like real life!
I’ll miss you, Party Down, and the days I spent eating thai food in bed and watching all of season one without getting up once to empty my bladder. You taught me an important lesson: everyone’s life will always suck, but it will also always be funny. Goodbye, lover.