Revenge on the 'Big' Nerds

After watching a few episodes of The Big Bang Theory, you get the sense that series creator Chuck Lorre was bullied by geeks as a child.

It's the easiest explanation for this brutally laugh-impoverished sitcom—a modern-day Amos 'n Andy-esque program that wallows in every hackneyed nerdy stereotype conceivable. Clearly he didn't get the memo that geeks are chic these days—or maybe he just has too much lingering bitterness over being pelted with multi-function calculators, pocket protectors and Star Wars thermoses (thermi?) to care.

"I'm not sure what Chuck Lorre has against smart people," writes Maureen Ryan in her Chicago Tribune blog, "but with the foul sitcom The Big Bang Theory, he tries to have his revenge against anyone with an IQ above room temperature."

Quantum Sitcom Physics 101
The basic plot goes like this: Penny, a beautiful blond waitress, moves in next door to two brilliant but socially inept physicists and sets their world a-dither. Leonard, the less nerdy of the two, falls in lust with his new neighbor, hoping against hope that one day he'll be able to sleep with her.

Sheldon has no such illusions. His social life consists of weekly Halo 3 tourneys, Superman movie marathons and something called "Klingon Boggle." This sudden infusion of estrogen freaks his already freakish self out, particularly when he learns that Penny's a better Halo player than he is.

"Oh, look, it's raining you!" she squeals after her avatar blows up his during a friendly match.

"You laugh now," Sheldon answers. "Just wait 'til you need tech support."

Add to the crew another pair of wacky friends: Howard Wolowitz, a would-be Don Juan with a 1960s hairdo straight from The Monkees, and Rajesh Koothrappali, who rarely speaks, is rarely spoken to and whose sole reason for existence seems to be to provide an avenue on which to drive ethnic Indian jokes. "Not only are children starving in India, there's an Indian starving right here!" he says, as his friends dispute over the fair distribution of Chinese dumplings.

Smarty Pants
Yes, Leonard and Sheldon are truly geeked-up geeks who, despite being well out of high school, still manage to lose their trousers to Penny's buff, angry ex-boyfriend and walk around for about half an episode in their underwear. What, no wedgies?

Ah, if only that pantsing scene was the program's only bit of problematic content: Granted, the show still wouldn't be funny, but at least we could say it wasn't overtly foul.

Alas. The title itself appears to contain a double entendre, referring to both the evolutionary big bang theory and a slang word for sex. The first scene in the first episode takes place in a sperm bank, where Leonard and Sheldon are preparing to help spawn children the only way (or so goes the insinuation) they know how. Characters are consumed with sexual thoughts—when, of course, they're not playing Halo. When Howard hooks up with Penny's promiscuous sister and spends some quality time in Penny's bedroom, Penny announces that, from the sound of it, "They're either having sex or Howard's caught in a milking machine." Penny and other women wear low-cut tops and high-cut shorts, and Penny's not opposed to parading about in a towel. Rajesh, unable to speak to girls ordinarily, gets his brain lubed by liberal doses of booze.

Lorre, who also created Roseanne and Two and a Half Men, is well-known for his fondness of ribald humor, and he often fights network execs to keep the raunchy stuff in. "It's like, 'Oh, god, don't make me cut the stuff that makes people laugh!'" he told Entertainment Weekly.

And what, he seems to reason, can be more funny than geeks thinking about—and in some cases, actually having—sex?

The show also dabbles in low-grade swearing, including inappropriate uses of God's name. And Sheldon's mother is a stereotypical rendering of what Lorre must consider an off-the-rack, Bible-belt Christian. When Sheldon's working up a model of a DNA strand, his mother says she hopes it was "intelligently designed by a creator, right?" When she cooks a chicken dinner, she tells Rajesh that she hopes it's not "one of the animals you people think is magic." And she lets loose a few choice swear words herself.

Big Bang Boom
OK, let me 'fess up. I've been known to watch Star Trek. I've enjoyed a video game or two. I hope one day someone gives me a light saber for Christmas. So maybe I'm a little oversensitive.

But pushing aside what I perceive as the show's mean-spiritedness toward a host of social and ethnic groups, this is still a weekly, half-hour wasteland. There's not a smidge of ethical or moral content to be found. And it's about as funny as a chemistry lecture. Frankly, I hope this series quickly undergoes a final, spectacular big bang of its own—and poofs out of existence.