Parks and Recreation wrapped up its seven-season run on NBC last night with an hour-long episode that jumped around in time like a Delorean with a transmission problem.
Over the course of the finale, we caught a glimpse of how the ensuing decades unfolded for every character on the show:
Leslie became governor of Indiana; Tom wrote a lifestyle-guide bestseller; and, of course, Ron Swanson got to live out his days in the wilderness solitude he’d always dreamt of.
Even the much-reviled Jerry/Garry Gergich was treated to a century-long life, multiple terms as mayor, and the continued love of his physically flawless family.
In some respects, it was a classic Parks episode – earnest, wacky, and affectionate toward its characters in a manner that’s rarely seen in modern sitcoms.
But in some ways, the episode – which often felt like a 60-minute dream sequence – flew in the face of the spirit of the show.
Throughout the series (and twice in the finale) Amy Poehler’s Leslie Knope extolled the virtues of hard work, small victories and incremental improvements. By contrast, the finale was a celebration of fame, fortune, absurd luck, and overnight success.
The technique of revealing what the future has in store for the entire cast of characters has drawn comparisons to the controversial How I Met Your Mother finale.
But while the HIMYM swan song dealt with disease, death and divorce, the final Parks pulled the ultimate finale cop-out by ensuring that each character’s wildest dream came true.
Yes, Parks and Rec was always a more upbeat series (arguably the most relentlessly positive comedy on television), so it stands to reason that it’s finale would be so generous to the denizens of Pawnee.
But while the writers never permitted the show to be bound by the constraints of realism or believability, there was always a sense Midwestern gumption and sincerity at the heart of the series that made the type-A Leslie and the ever-stoic Ron seem right at home in their tiny Indiana town.
It could be argued that the finale abandoned that tone in favor of an hour of wish-fulfillment with a smattering of sentimentality.
But regardless of your feelings on the Parks send-off, at least we can all agree on two things:
The tribute to the late Harris Wittels was perfectly tasteful and touching, and seeing Jean Ralphio’s final scheme blow up in his face was a deeply satisfying experience.
Oh, and of course, Chris Pratt remains awesome in all that he does:
