Have you guys been watching the latest episodes of The Office? More things have happened on the show in the last four weeks than happened in the entire third season of Lost.

In case you’re storing up for a DVR marathon, I’ll wait until after the jump to discuss what’s going on, but let me tantalize you with this: I’m about to argue that Pam is now the main character and that Jim and Dwight have done something that comedic figures almost never do.

Sweaty with anticipation? Me too!

Why Comedies Stay the Same

Let me make my larger point first: Mind-numbing repetition threatens any long-running comedy.  Chandler and Monica blur into Ross and Rachel, Balki’s latest predicament becomes indistinguishable from his last, and even the Bluth family’s antics get shopworn.

This monotony often arises when comic characters don’t change.

Now to some degree, that lack of change is important because it lets us recognize ourselves in characters and feel superior to them at the same time. For instance, we all have a bit of Homer Simpson in us, bouncing with impatience as we wait thirty endless seconds for the meatloaf in the microwave,  but even as we chuckle at ourselves, we can rest easy knowing that we are never as infantile as Mr. Plow.

But if Homer were to change, then he we could become more complicated. If he  developed into a thoughtful father or dutiful employee for longer than a single episode, the he would stop being a symbol of comic excess. He would be more human, and suddenly, we’d have to start empathizing with him.  (Personally, even when I do empathize with Homer in the short-term, like  in that episode where he sees his mother again for the first time in decades, I know I’m not expected to continue feeling that way. I know the show will push a reset button, so that in the next installment, Homer will be back to drinking beer out of a shoe instead of brooding over his mom.)

A deeply empathetic relationship with a comedic character can kill a joke, since it’s hard to laugh at someone you’re concerned about. Most comedy writers know this.  Even The Simpsons, which has permanently changed supporting players like Barney and Patty, has left the core family essentially unaltered for twenty years. If the clan did change—if Bart became a priest or Marge got locked up for ten years—then the series would risk alienating its audience.

The flipside, of course, is that all this familiarity can grow stale. I mean, have you watched The Simpsons recently? There are only so many “Homer makes Lisa mad” or “The family goes to another country” episodes you can see in a lifetime. Once they reach a certain age, comedies are left with the challenge of mixing it up without turning people off, staying predictable until people get bored, or bowing out while they’re still in peak form.

The Office Changes It Up

To its credit, The Office has been upending familiar patterns for years, suggesting the creators have always been wary of ruts. Remember that group of new co-workers that showed up? Or as I noted last year, remember when the focus drifted almost completely away from the workplace into Relationship City?

Problem was, none of those changes took. Andy Bernard was the only new co-worker who stayed, and then it was back to awkward business as usual. The relationshippy installments also hit a major dead-end, and they left most of the characters with nothing to do. For me, that period was especially frustrating because I can see endless comedies about couples fighting, but The Office alone provides me with its brand of sharp insight on the workplace.

For a while, I doubted the writers and producers would ever find a way to keep their show fresh without damaging what made it so great to begin with. Then this current run of episodes began.

Almost everything has changed—Michael, Pam, and frosted-tips Ryan have started their own paper company; Dundler-Mifflin has a sexy new boss; only Jim and Pam have stayed together—but the show itself remains a brilliant observation of what it’s like to work  in a tiny space with other people.

Little shifts in perspective have allowed for surprising and sometimes unsettling new stories to emerge from that basic premise. The Michael Scott Paper Company is brand new, for instance, so now we can see characters navigate the power struggles of a business that’s still establishing itself. (As in, if I make the copies, will I forever be the copy bitch?)

A new business also means an opportunity for redefinition, which the writers have let Pam take advantage of.  She’s grown from a charming-yet- self-doubting receptionist into a woman embracing her own  potential. As she uses the new company to develop a new version of herself, she has become the driving force of almost every episode. The writers took a chance on changing the tone of her role, and it paid off.

Interestingly, they took a chance in the opposite direction with Jim. Originally, Jim was our most obvious stand-in. He was the one who literally winked at the camera, who let us know that at least one person in the office was as aware as we were that the people around him were fools. His sarcasm and common sense gave him power, and that invited us to imagine that we would be Jim if we worked at Dunder-Mifflin.

Except now Jim’s flailing. Charles Miner (the new boss) isn’t taking his prankster bullshit, and he doesn’t find it cute that Jim thinks he’s above it all. This has put our boy completely off his game. Now he blatantly sucks up and gets flustered about not knowing what to do.
I can’t think of another show that has so thoroughly removed a likeable character’s power. And frankly, it’s a little disturbing, because Jim was supposed to be like us, and now he’s in trouble. If Jim goes down, then doesn’t that mean we can go down? American comedies aren’t supposed to tell us that! That’s what dramas and cynical British satires are for!

And what about Dwight’s sudden surge? He was always the butt of Jim’s jokes, but now he’s taking advantage of Jim’s insecurity. Considering that Dwight is one of the weirdest characters on The Office, this is like a cold rebuke to us viewers who fancy ourselves “normal” like Jim: Watch out, we’re being told. The dweeb in the corner can knock you off your high horse before you even realize it.

As Pam spreads her wings, Jim freaks out, and Dwight gets the upper hand, The Office, which has always had dramatic and/or serious elements, is moving miles away from traditional comedy. Nothing is stable. Only some things are funny. Anything seems possible.

And that makes the show feel just as lively as it did at the beginning.  Since we can’t guess whats going to happen next, it’s impossible to look away.