The differences between twentysomethings in the ’90s and twentysomethings today are obvious. You couldn’t land a date just by swiping right. You couldn’t make plans on the fly like we do now. And there is still a general sense that things were simpler. To my generation — one that remembers life before cell phones and the internet — it’s fun to look back on that time. To a younger generation — one that’s now discovering Friends for the first time — it’s a fascinating peek at what life was like not all that long ago, and a testament to how much has changed. I think people love Friends because it’s real, but also because it’s not too real. No matter what, it always remains lighthearted and funny; even the darkest of major life events are punctuated with a laugh. That’s what a sitcom is supposed to be: a slightly exaggerated version of everyday life that reflects a little part of yourself back to you.
In Sternbergh’s article, I’m quoted saying that it wouldn’t be possible to make an authentic version of Friends starring twentysomethings of today. And I stand by it. At the heart of the show is a group of people who meet up to sit around and talk — a behaviour that’s since evolved, because today’s twentysomethings connect through their phones. That’s not a bad thing, it’s just the truth. You could certainly make a show about six friends, but to have them all constantly return to one central meeting point like a coffee shop or someone’s apartment just wouldn’t happen. Because on their way, they’d discover something shinier and prettier to do instead. That’s not to say I don’t think a formal Friends reunion of some sort would work — because I do, and I would cry tears of joy for days if that were to happen — but even with the same six actors, a reboot would look drastically different.
Time period aside, Friends is still a relatable show. Even if you missed the era of being set up on blind dates by friends, you still know what the awkwardness of a first date is like. Even though Phoebe didn’t meet Mike through Tinder, that doesn’t render an entire generation clueless about their relationship. The Friends story lines of the mid-’90s are slightly different, but still timeless enough that today’s twentysomethings can understand and enjoy them. Younger viewers even connect with the nostalgic piece of it all. No, they aren’t reminiscing about being young in that specific era, but the show still reminds them of being younger versions of themselves. Nostalgia inspires nostalgia.
To this day, I still feel pangs of loneliness and an extreme sense of culmination when I watch “The Last One.” It fills me with the same sadness you feel on the last day of summer camp. To that same end, I also feel a rush of excitement and newness when I immediately follow it with “The Pilot.” It resets me, and I’m comforted to know that there are, once again, so many episodes and adventures ahead. You can tell me that Friends seems outdated because of its laugh track (it does), or that it would never have run for 10 seasons in today’s world (it wouldn’t have). You’re right, but I’m simply not interested in your assertion that those things make Friends a bad ’90s sitcom. At its core, Friends is a show about relationships — platonic, caring, romantic — and that’s the singular concept that transcends generations and pulls in new audiences. The thing that people love so much about the show is right there in the theme song: “I’ll be there for you, ‘cause you’re there for me too.”