The American version of “The Office” has become a cherished part of television history since its debut in 2005. Initial viewers may remember its rocky start, where the pilot fell flat with critics. It was a challenging transition, attempting to adapt British comedian Ricky Gervais’s original script. Differences in American cultural sensibilities became clear. The American public demanded a character like Michael Scott to be more relatable and redeemable compared to David Brent, highlighting a shift in comedic expectations.
Now, almost two decades later, “The Paper” brings us back into that familiar universe with a fresh perspective. Set in Scranton, it features Dunder Mifflin now under corporate ownership from Toledo, producing everything from paper products to running a local newspaper, the Truth Teller. The premise of corporate control over the workplace feels timely, especially in light of recent discussions surrounding McDonald’s and workers’ rights unfolding across various fronts.
The humor in “The Paper” cleverly touches upon contemporary issues, including a character’s email declaration about not being “#MeToo’d.” This quip captures the essence of today’s dialogues about workplace boundaries and brings forth a significant change that demonstrates how societal norms have evolved since the early 2000s. The show’s creators appear to recognize the immense shift in what is acceptable humor. Where once the jokes hinged on clumsy workplace dynamics, today’s characters navigate a minefield built from the lessons of the past. Humor, it seems, must now walk a fine line that the previous generation of characters often stumbled across.
Romantic elements keep the charm alive, showcasing the beginnings of flirtation between Ned and Mare with an awkward yet relatable chemistry reminiscent of Jim and Pam’s early dynamic. Their interactions highlight how office romances can still elicit laughter and authenticity without being overshadowed by political correctness. These scenes remind viewers that while boundaries have shifted, the essence of lightheartedness in romantic pursuits remains relevant.
Yet, the contrast also invites scrutiny. In “The Paper,” the workplace dynamics reflect the learning curve of a new era. The awkward oppressiveness of office culture from two decades ago appears to have been replaced with a new set of complications, particularly seen in the relationship dynamics between characters like Esmerelda and Ned. Here, viewers see the old school struggling against the evolving expectations of corporate diversity and leadership. Esmerelda, while not equipped to manage newsroom complexities, wields power in a way that seems predetermined by fear of sexism allegations against Ned. In doing this, the show reflects current tensions where managers face backlash for any misstep, taking a light-hearted jab at the complexities of modern office life.
“The Paper” distinguishes itself by enforcing journalistic ethics, where earlier sitcoms thrived on misunderstandings and faux pas. In this new setup, the characters learn to present stories fairly and ethically—essentially rewriting the comedy rulebook to fit today’s reality. The creators of “The Paper” acknowledge that the humor must evolve, serving as a gauge of our times, and this is a necessary step to resonate with viewers grappling with more serious discussions about workplace conduct.
Walking into this renewed television space feels familiar yet different, much like revisiting a childhood neighborhood full of memories. Oscar Martinez’s return injects nostalgia and humor into the series, especially during his wary initial reactions to the documentary crew. That moment serves not just for comic relief but also as a commentary on the past and current trends in media. Oscar’s reluctance speaks to a generation of viewers accustomed to having their every move scrutinized. By the end of the episode, his acceptance captures that balance we cherish in comedy—a blend of the absurd and the real.
Ultimately, while “The Paper” is unlikely to replicate the cultural stalwart status of “The Office,” it captures a snapshot of a society straddling the line between tradition and modernity. It’s a reinvention that embraces the absurdities of work coupled with the sophisticated realities we now navigate. The show reflects the notion that despite strict rules and expectations, life’s mishaps—those small, personal failings that make us human—can still prompt laughter. As more viewers binge through the episodes, there’s a sense of reclaiming the joy of office interactions, which once held the power to both relate and amuse. After the long stretch of the isolating COVID lockdowns and the stringent aftermath of the #MeToo movement, “The Paper” reminds us that it feels good to revisit the office—both for its absurdities and its warmth.
"*" indicates required fields