“Friday Night Lights” (7 p.m. Central Fridays on NBC) continues to do the little things well: In the fifth-season premiere, Landry goes through his own version of “American Graffiti,” playing one last show with Crucifictorious, saying goodbye to Matt’s senile grandmother (who thinks he is going to SMU, not Rice), reminiscing in the Alamo Freeze parking lot with Julie, and then ultimately — in a bit of bittersweet randomness — ending up at a Dillon strip club.
Rather than being in a rush to move on to the Season 5 storylines, “FNL” allows us to take our time saying goodbye to last year’s punter. The same goes for college-bound coach’s daughter Julie, where we see the complete, sad, happy, awkward, memorable, silly goodbye before she pulls out of the driveway. And then Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton do their understated thing — not crying exactly, but we can see on their faces that they’ll miss Julie.
“Friday Night Lights” tends to get somewhat overrated by critics because it’s such an underdog show. Certainly, there are no other shows that NBC releases first on DirecTV and then on DVD before it gets its first airing; that’s not a sign that the Peacock sees the travails of the East Dillon Lions as a backbone of its programming (still, I’m glad it was at least allowed to run for five mini-seasons).
One slight problem with the show is Coach’s over-earnestness. Every decision he makes seems so stressful. When Billy Riggins asks if he can be a volunteer assistant, Coach basically responds with “Ugggghhhhhhhh.” Why not say, “I can’t pay you, but we’ll be glad for the help”? And when we get to the football scenes, Coach is always yelling on the sidelines like a madman. Since those scenes are always devoid of context, they strike me as over-the-top.
The obvious lack of a script supervisor with football knowledge has always been a glaring weakness of “FNL.” In this episode, quarterback Vince (Michael B. Jordan, who also plays Haddie’s boyfriend on “Parenthood”) calls for a reverse in the huddle, and then we see the Lions run a statue-of-liberty play.
All that having been said, “FNL” is still a top 10 show for me. It all comes back to its dedication to making sure every bit of drama is earned through the sweat and tears of laying the groundwork. After the fallout from telling a Dillon student that abortion is an option, Tami Taylor is now a guidance counselor at East Dillon, where her friendly advice in a staff meeting falls on annoyed ears, and where the most important lesson she learns by the end of day one is “Don’t get discouraged.” Out of the six students scheduled to visit her, only one showed up, and that’s a good percentage, the principal tells her. I have no doubt that we’ll get some good “Lean on Me”-style storylines featuring Tami as the year goes on.
The new featured character on the Lions is a basketball-player-turned-wide-receiver wonderfully named Hastings Ruckle. When he gives in to Vince and Luke’s recruiting pitch and boards the Lions’ bus, the basketball coach can be heard shouting, “You’re making a mistake!” What kind of coach doesn’t want his athlete to be happy and pursue his options (especially since the football and basketball seasons don’t overlap)? I guess everything is bigger in Texas, including coaches’ egos.
Generally, though, “FNL” is (along with Jason Katims’ other show, “Parenthood”) TV’s most honest portrayal of how people really behave. Texas and its football culture may be big, but small moments of humor are right in “FNL’s” wheelhouse. There’s a scene in the premiere where Coach dryly asks “What kind of a name is Hastings Ruckle?” and the never-sardonic Buddy Garrity doesn’t miss a beat in responding “Welsh, I think.”
I’ll miss Landry if he never comes back, I’ll be happy to see Julie again when she does (previews suggest she has a juicy storyline this season, and yes, I could experience the whole thing in one sitting if I bought the DVD, but I’ve decided to watch it as NBC airs it, at least for now). And by the end of Season 5, I’ll like Hastings Ruckle as much as I liked Jason Street, Smash Williams, Matt Saracen, Landry Clarke, Luke Cafferty and Vince Howard through the years.
That’s because as much as the writers don’t care about detail and emotional realism on the field, it’s all they care about off the field.