Not Quite a Wrap on 'Raven'

Sorry, Hannah. Too bad, Lizzie. In terms of Disney longevity, Raven's at the top of the heap.

After 100 episodes, The Disney Channel has closed the book on That's So Raven—its, ahem, raven-ously successful sitcom starring the vivacious Raven-Symoné Christina Pearman (whose big break came at the age of 3, playing cute-as-a-button Olivia on The Cosby Show). Disney Channel makes a habit of shutting down its series runs after 65 episodes, which turns Raven into the longest-running show in the channel's history. And with its popularity still strong, fans are going to be watching reruns for years to come.

Lucy, Meet McDonald's
Here's the good news for parents: Raven's last episodes are just as silly and sweet as the first. Think I Love Lucy with a younger protagonist, trendier clothes and a slightly supernatural twist.

Throughout its four seasons, Raven has steadfastly relied on the same formula: Raven—a capricious, fun-minded high school student—gets a vision of the future. Raven misinterprets that vision. Raven nearly capsizes (insert one) her life/her friends' lives/her family members' lives/her algebra grade/her internship. But by the time the credits roll, all is well and Raven's learned a valuable lesson.

If it sounds like it'd get old—well, truthfully, it does. But formula is actually a huge part of Raven's success. (As it is with most Disney shows.) This is TV's equivalent of McDonald's: Love it or hate it, you know exactly what you're in for when you walk through the door.

That's So Reliable!
What's another word for formula? Reliability. Also predictability. Raven is a bit like that 40-year-old coffee pot you can't seem to kill. It brews up half-hour cups of entertainment that are remarkably positive and even—sometimes—funny.

Thank a wacky cast of sidekicks for keeping the show ticking along. The characters are outsized personality portraits—consistently hip, a trifle weird and always well-meaning. All have their weaknesses, of course, but such flaws (never sex or drugs) are almost always parlayed into life lessons, after a few laughs, of course.

In one episode, Raven must choose between going to a party and bonding with her kooky friend. In another, she struggles with keeping her commitment to her current boss or being wooed away by a prospective employer who promises the world. In a third, she teaches a pack of pint-sized Girl Scout wannabes that it's important to be nice to people, even when you think they're not listening.

As you can see, the morals are typically sound and almost always old school. Nearly every show ends with: Support your friends. Your parents still love you, even if they split up. Follow through on your commitments. Don't make noise in movie theaters.

OK, so some of the issues are less than earth-shattering.

Duty, or Doody?
What about Raven's psychic visions? This doesn't solve the problem entirely, but it's worth noting that they're presented as neither divine or diabolic. They're something of a natural abnormality, like double-jointed thumbs.

Raven does slip into juvenile humor at times. A class bully calls characters "wieners." When Cory tells a German chef to "do his duty," the chef cracks up, chortling, "He said doody!"

But that's as "raw" as it gets. When friends tromp down to watch a scary flick, it turns out to be "Night of the Living Darned." Violence is almost nonexistent. And for the most part, children respect their elders.

I've already compared That's So Raven to one classic TV comedy. Now, at the risk of unintentionally immortalizing what is really just a bit of cable fluff, I'll pick another. In a sense, this is a multicultural Leave It to Beaver with a 21st-century varnish. When so many shows, even children's shows, are trying to change TV (and not for the better), Raven wants it to stay the same. Mr. Cosby would be pleased.