Bravo and brava on last night’s episode, writers of “How I Met Your Mother.” Hands down, the best episode thus far this season.
[serious face] That should not have been the best episode of this season.
Guys. My loves. My darlings. My Honeys Boo Boos. What are you doing? This season seems as though it is being written by two distinct camps of writers—those who know it’s the final season and are treating it as their senior year zoology class, and those who are operating as though that mystical ninth season is actually going to happen. And, you guys, it’s not, unless it airs solely in Narnia for Narnia CBS (called CBS Lewis, naturally).
For a show so deeply rooted in the idea of continuity and callbacks, you have spent the last two seasons so wildly inconsistent in terms of characterization and plot development that fans, self included, have genuinely believed you have had a plan in mind and that, some magical day, that plan would be unfolded. Well, it hasn’t. And I’m not talking about Barney and Robin’s wedding day, and I’m not talking about the mother. We’ve spent that nickel, the mother’s not showing up till the end, I’m not worried about that.
I’m talking about the fact that you had Robin date her therapist, had him play upon her guilt and manipulate this clearly distraught character into staying with him, made it very clear that she was not super into him, that he knew about and had issues with her history with two of her male best friends, then had them break up because she couldn’t have kids. I’m talking about the fact that, just last night, you’d spent the season setting up that Robin didn’t like this Nick guy, that he wasn’t right for her, and that she and Barney are in love, then have them break up because he’s suddenly stupid. I’m talking about the fact that you had Barney Stinson get fucking engaged to a stripper who stole from him and just had them calmly decide “maybe we’re not right for each other” after countless public interviews talking about how this character is supposed to give him some kind of karmic comeuppance. I’m talking about the fact that you had Ted break up a wedding, bring back a character from season one just to drop her five episodes in, pulling the Ross and Emily “I don’t want you being friends with your best friend anymore” trope. It’s all over the map and it’s just bananas. BANANAS, I SAY.
I mean, all last year, for no explained reason, you had Cobie Smulders, one of the most beautiful women on the planet, looking like this:
Did she offend someone? Did her kid puke on the costume designer? Fans theorized all season that she must be dressing like this because she’s so messed up and unhappy with her life, and I’m fairly certain that’s what you were going for, but it was never even implied, and, at the end of the day, this is a CBS sitcom and I should not have to put the kind of speculative guesswork into why Robin is wearing stupid pants as though it’s the goddamn “Lost” hatch.
Finally, and most importantly, this Ted and Robin thing. Has. To. Stop. I hate to break it to you like this, but no one gives a fancy fuck about Ted and Robin anymore. No one has since at least season three. No one. Not one single person, and it is just lazy. Stop it. You had that whole “I’m in love with you” nonsense last season to get Ted over Robin, his last hurdle before he finds the mother, to come to terms with the fact that his fallback person is off the table and he will never have her. I accepted that as plausible. But, if last week’s episode is any indication, which it totally might not be, because, like I said, you people are just drunk sometimes, you’re not done with that story yet, which is bullshit. Let it go.
Guys, I love you. I love this show. I am in it for the long haul. But, it’s become like watching “The Office.” Not totally unwatchable like “The Office” last year, mind you (yet, at least—you guys have really made me cautious) but like watching “The Office” circa season five or six, when things just started going completely off the rails, with just enough hope-filled moments of awesome that you stick around, thinking maybe, just maybe, this show that you’ve loved deeply for years might not hurt you. But those moments are becoming fewer and farther between.
I have to believe that this season nine fuckery is messing up your game. And that’s fine, that’s understandable. But it’s not happening. Like Ted must do to Robin, you’ve got to let it go. Let the show be done. And, like “The Office” is at least attempting, give your fans a final season they can enjoy. Let them love and miss the show when it ends. Don’t make me glad you’re gone. Because I adore this show, have since the beginning, and this season should be making me hysterically happy. But it’s not. So, come on. For us, for the people who’ve loved you and loved the show, go out on a high note.
Because you’ve got to go.