Freaks and Geeks: The Timeless High School Experience

The other week, after inputting my birthdate on a website, I was told that I was the exact age Seth Rogen was when he debuted in Freaks and Geeks. Apart from forcing myself to take a hard look at my accomplishments thus far and appreciate the show’s age-accurate casting, I re-examined its place in my life as I’ve grown older, having first been introduced to the series by my parents when I was in middle school. Thinking back on all the shows I’ve seen, whose purpose has been to somewhat reflect my life as a high schooler, none, I believe, come close to perfecting the relatability factor found in Freaks and Geeks.

Whenever the topic of TV comes up with anyone around my age, Freaks and Geeks is one of those rare shows that most people have seen and relate to. It has found a new life, generations past those who it was perhaps originally intended for. Despite being a show that was canceled for having “depressing undertones” and “not enough victories”, it has generated a loving audience that continues to appreciate the characters’ faults and failures. There’s something significant to be said about seeing yourself reflected on screen, and Freaks and Geeks has accomplished that exceptionally well throughout the years, over and over again.

The series, revolving around siblings Sam and Lindsay Weir (John Francis Daley and Linda Cardellini, respectively) and their friendship circles, takes a refreshing step away from the all too common glamorization of high school. This departure from such a romanticized portrayal has only since been greatly embraced, (in a much different, darker fashion), in HBO’s Euphoria. The opening shot of the first episode pans away from a football player-cheerleader couple, moving under the bleachers to introduce some of the freaks of the series: Daniel Desario (James Franco), Nick Andopolis (Jason Segel), and Ken Miller (Seth Rogen). This immediately welcomes with open arms those whose version of their teen years was not often - especially in the early 2000s - reflected on television. Moving away from the freaks, we meet the geeks: Sam Weir, Neil Schweiber (Samm Levine), and Bill Haverchuck (Martin Starr).

While the show’s comedic element is incredibly prevalent, Freaks and Geeks does not shy away from painful, authentic moments; it’s a dramedy in every sense. For being a one-camera sitcom, it’s handling of topics is often poignant and touching, and within the show’s singular season, a handful of episodes, storylines, and characters have distinguished themselves as outstandingly unique in their presentation and messages.

Freaks and Geeks never let any characters, particularly occasional antagonists of Lindsay and Sam, go without a backstory. In the nearly-unaired episode ‘Kim Kelly Is My Friend’, both Lindsay and the audience learn the root of Kim Kelly’s (Busy Philipps) rougher behavior. Living in an abusive home, we see a strong, meaningful contrast between Kim, and the Weir’s loving family, who later takes in Nick after he has been kicked out by his strict father. The various depictions of family, as with many other aspects, reinforce the accessibility of the show: there’s a place for everyone.

Rewatching the show, Nick’s storyline in the episode ‘I’m with the Band’ has stood out to me more than ever before as one of the most painful - and real - moments in the series. When Nick, at Lindsay’s suggestion, decides to audition as a drummer for a local band, a tragic yet deeply relatable story ensues. Sticking with the tone of the show, his joyful basement drum solo during the episode opening quickly takes a turn when he bombs the audition. There was, throughout the entire series, never a message of big dreams being so completely unachievable. Nick had centered his entire life and future around drumming, and it didn’t work out. As depressing as that is, this episode holds such a special truth. Not every dream comes to fruition, and it never means the end of the world.

Written knowing the show would meet the fate of cancelation, the finale carries some beautiful sentiments that I still feel perfectly embody what I felt during my time in high school. The creators packed in some major character development, which played out remarkably well.

During the final days of school, Lindsay is accepted to an academic summit and is introduced to the Grateful Dead, Nick gets into disco, and Daniel - in fear of flunking his math final - pulls the fire alarm and is subsequently sentenced to helping out the AV club, where he spends more time with Sam, Neil, and Bill. With the setup in place, the final 20 or so minutes of the show play out so beautifully that I cry a little bit just thinking about it. Invited to play ‘Dungeons & Dragons’ with the rest of the AV club, Daniel accepts. Nick, ready to compete in a dance competition at the disco, is met by Lindsay, where they finally put an end to any possibility of getting their relationship back together.

Immediately following this comes what I believe to be the most underrated, poignant scene of the series. Intercut between a quite possibly heartbroken Nick’s disco dance contest entry - set to ‘The Groove Line’ by Heatwave - Daniel gets fully into character as Carlos the Dwarf in the AV club’s D&D campaign. Both characters have become something they didn’t used to be. When, to the surprise of the geeks, Daniel asks to play again the next night, Bill and Sam come incredibly close to hitting the message I’ve taken from the series, in a slightly more casual way.

Bill: “Does him wanting to play with us again mean that he’s turning into a geek or we’re

turning into cool guys?”

Sam: “I don’t know, but I’m gonna go for us turning into cool guys.”

During the final scene, we watch as Lindsay, set to go to Ann Arbor for the academic summit, gets off the bus early to join Kim as they follow the Grateful Dead on tour. Almost every character ends the show in a surprising yet completely realistic way. Lindsay abandons academia to chase new passions and friends, meanwhile Nick and Daniel find joy in unexpected things. The characters adapted, somehow finding themselves, just as the rest of us do during high school. They were never limited to being just a freak or a geek; they were dynamic, settling somewhere in between.

The series finale perhaps explains why it’s been so accessible for a variety of age groups and types of people. Many shows both before and after Freaks and Geeks have fallen into the same trap: depicting characters as a singular stereotype, never allowing for growth beyond that. Yet with Freaks and Geeks, for every new viewer, you’ll find traits among all the characters to see in yourself. You don’t have to only be what is rigidly considered to be a freak or geek to find the show relatable, because maybe there were never any true freaks or geeks at all. Freaks and Geeks has never been limited by its dated universe, instead, it holds up as timeless, tying up with the idea that change in high school is inevitable, and should be embraced.