As of its most recent, fifteenth season, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is officially the longest running live-action comedy series in history. And with fifteen years under their belt of pushing the envelope with their unique brand of absurd satire, The Gang — Dennis Reynolds (Glenn Howerton), Mac McDonald (Rob McElhenney), Deandra “Sweet Dee” Reynolds (Kaitlin Olson), Charlie Kelly (Charlie Day), and Frank Reynolds (Danny DeVito) — is beginning to feel pressure to keep up with the changing times.
In the second episode of the season (“The Gang Makes Lethal Weapon 7”), while the group is in the throes of attempting to make a more socially aware, less offensive version of their highly problematic Lethal Weapon reboot series, Dennis announces to the group that he is now officially “woke,” and that the rest of them should probably be working on becoming socially aware, too. But this seemingly positive shift turns out to have their usual debauched ulterior motives, as Dennis forewarns his friends that they are going to have to take on the language and behaviors of the socially and politically progressive not so much because it is the right thing to do, but because not doing so puts them at risk of having sex with old people forever (a horrifying thought for the manipulative, predatory group of friends).
This season’s attempts at a social reckoning have their belly laugh moments. Dennis discovers that if he simply repeats exactly what young, white, leftist women say back at them, they will sleep with him almost instantly (with the comedic payoff of a seasons-old visual gag of Dennis’ face while having sex in close-up, grotesque forehead vein pushing forward — only this time, the much younger woman beneath him is moaning “Daddy” offscreen — a strikingly culturally on-the-pulse moment). It also makes so much sense that the friend group voted for Kanye, and that Dennis is unvaccinated and has a bout of COVID (best utilized in a scene where he desperately gags his way through trying to suppress a cough; essentially any time Howerton goes red-veiny-faced is some of the best of Always Sunny’s physical comedy).
But while there are the occasional shining moments in their social commentary, this season of Always Sunny can sometimes get lost in its own meta, self-aware weeds. Mac’s obsession with his identity, for example (“Number One: Irish, Number Two: Gay, Number Three: Badass,” he lists to Charlie) is funny, but begins to flag as the group continually complains about the meaningless of his attachment to identities episode after episode. Mid-way through Mac’s identity crisis, Dennis tears into him:
“Would you just shut up? Okay? Identity doesn’t have to factor into absolutely every decision you make […] If you wanna go out and bang every single guy in Ireland, just go bang every guy in Ireland and forget what your identity has to do with it.”
It’s a strange, semi-sincere/loaded point for Always Sunny to insist upon, that doesn’t really end up going anywhere, just sitting as a sort of statement in a show not really about statements — at least not statements that aren’t ludicrous and satirical.
In the flashback episode “The Gang Buys a Roller Rink,” we see an earlier, much kinder iteration of the friend group — young and naive in 1998, everyone kind to one another and dressed in trendy 90s garb, no one yet traumatized by each other’s endless wrongdoings. This episode, as well as serving us some general backstory, seems to emphasize the weight The Gang feels of time passing now, of how poorly things have gone, as Always Sunny reckons with some of The Gang’s longer-running character goals — Charlie’s ongoing search to find out who his real father is, Dee wanting to try her hand at some serious acting, Mac wanting to further explore his Irish heritage. These desires, paired with Dennis’ longing to go on vacation, leads to another landmark moment for It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia — The Gang spends half the season not just outside of Paddy’s Pub, but outside of America, as they cause chaos in Ireland.
While in Ireland, Charlie meets his real father, Shelley Kelly (Colm Meaney) (and the passing of Charlie’s father, Shelley, even skirts close to a very rare moment of sincerity in the final episode of the season, as Charlie tearfully mourns the father he never had in his life). Mac discovers that he isn’t Irish, considers becoming a Catholic priest, and then rediscovers he is actually Irish (and was in fact tricked by his friends, just because he is annoying, and because they pettily hate a small shamrock tattoo on his thigh). Dennis pursues the scent of “authentic” Irish redheads but is stymied by the lack of smell that comes with getting COVID. Frank attempts to burn some questionable paperwork (tied to Epstein’s island, which he only went to for the snorkeling — this is some of the hyper-specific satire that doesn’t really resonate with me. It feels a bit like just throwing in salacious, loaded buzzwords for the sake of it). And Dee, always bearing the brunt of their general shenanigans, loses her bit part on an Irish show (as “Obnoxious American MILF #1”), is repeatedly hit by cars, almost decapitated by a hallucinating Dennis, and eventually sinks into a grotesque bog (Kaitlin Olson, is, as always, so funny; one of the funniest people around right now, both in physical humor and generally delightful and ridiculous line delivery). While it’s fun to see our protagonists in a new space, and their Ireland antics are enjoyable enough, it doesn’t totally feel necessary for there to be a “fish out of water” arc for the group, as they are, inherently, fish out of water — all they need to do is exit their usual haunt of Paddy’s Pub or have someone normal enter it for their extreme strangeness to become apparent.
No episode is without its laughs, and I certainly look forward to Always Sunny’s three more scheduled seasons. Season fifteen was funny and compelling, stayed mostly fresh, and the performances were as giddy and strange and delightful as they’ve always been. Always Sunny’s dedication to continuity and self-aware satire is laudable, but it just feels sometimes that as the satirical nature of the show grows increasingly specific and meta, there isn’t always as much room for what Always Sunny is best at; the truly ridiculous, absurd, and gross, with comedic moments and storylines that are impossibly strange and unrelatable. Part of me even misses the cheap production of earlier seasons — the dark grainy camcorder aesthetics and cheap, plain clothes replaced with HD cameras and glossier, traditional sitcom hair and make-up.
What’s good about this season is what has always been so good about the show — the group’s general loathing of each other, but especially Dee, stays funny, Frank and Charlie’s weird little pseudo-father-son, pseudo-married-couple relationship is always ripe for laughs, and the closer Dennis gets to being an actual, definitive psychopath, the better his antics get. Mac’s character development has been one of the best developments of Sunny in recent seasons, and I am relieved and delighted by the way he is out and proud, in a way that does not make him any more sincere or “better” of a person now that he is canonically gay. I appreciate the way Sunny does not try to sterilize or make him more likable because of his sexuality and desires, keeping him and his habits as raunchy and peculiar as before.
Ultimately, Always Sunny thrives at its grittiest and most atrocious. The most recent season is at its best when The Gang hires a monkey to serve them beer at their bar (and when they are ultimately assaulted and robbed by said monkey), when Charlie forces Frank to eat a turd that Frank tried to hide in some soup, when Dennis tries to cut holes into the eyes of a painting to watch a dinner party like some freaky episode of Scooby-Doo, and when The Gang is irredeemably cruel — Mac’s threats of killing himself after receiving bad news are responded to with a dismissive “Do it, bitch!” from most of the group.
And the funniest moments of self-awareness are not related to how The Gang fares in our modern, progressive world in specific senses, but instead regarding how bad they are simply at being humans. After being finessed by the monkey they hired, Dennis turns mournfully to his friends: “Why can’t we just be normal? That’s so weird!” It’s so funny, because these moments of clarity about their lives are so rare, but so intense. And what a shame it would be if The Gang could be normal. Always Sunny thrives at its least connected to this social realm of ours, at its most preposterous and abstractly satirical.
