Copyright © 2001 Marshall Allen. All rights reserved. International copyright secured.

Marshall Allen is a freelance writer and Boundless contributor in California.

by Marshall Allen

It’s all about sex, suds and buds on the new Fox TV series Undeclared. Created by Judd Apatow, who also created the series Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared features an ensemble cast of previously unknown actors. Steven Karp is the Everyman main character, a likeable gangly kid trying to recreate himself from high school dweeb to college ladies’ man. The episodes recount the adventures of Steven and his buds – British roomie and heartthrob Lloyd, Ron the drinker, off the wall Marshall, and two girls in the coed dorm: Lizzie and Rachel. Unfortunately, the show’s producers went without the staple of most sitcoms – the laugh track. At least laugh tracks would indicate what parts are supposed to be funny.

As entertainment Undeclared is underwhelming. The humor falls flat and is mind-numbing in its banality. Humor can be used artistically to reveal deeper social truths in a way that’s entertaining and surprising. Or – like a whoopee cushion or plastic dog poop – it can grossly appeal to the lowest common denominator. The humor in Undeclared does neither. It’s the equivalent of a bunch of frat boys trading insults – it could be funny if you live it, but try explaining it to someone else and watch their eyes glaze before you can say "you had to be there." I didn’t even crack a smile until episode three, which featured Will Farrell from Saturday Night Live as a strung out junkie who sells term papers to Steven and pals.

If Undeclared operates under a thesis, it would be the statement found on the home page of the show’s website: First year of freedom. No more parents, no more rules, no more curfews. 2001-2002 is going to be a good year. Undeclared celebrates that these freshmen have been emancipated from the constraints of their former lives. But the show misuses the word "freedom." Freedom isn’t synonymous with hedonism, even if it is made out to be in the cultural parlance of today’s universities. Freedom is defined as the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action. It means an individual can do as he or she chooses to do. Hedonism is the doctrine that pleasure or happiness is the sole or chief good in life. Undeclared is undeniably hedonistic … but is it accurate?

Critics claim Undeclared accurately portrays the college life. Marc Allan of The Indianapolis Star said: "Undeclared defies convention. It's low-key, very funny and, as a bonus, happens to get college life almost exactly right." Time magazine was in agreement: "Gut busting and touching, Undeclared studies a volatile moment of young adulthood closely, and the show has its subject down cold." I agree and disagree with this assessment. While Undeclared doesn’t represent every college student’s reality – it certainly wasn’t mine – it does focus on a broadly understood truism to which millions of collegians can relate: morality cramps the pursuit of pleasure, so pretend it doesn’t exist. On the other hand, Undeclared is far from realistic because in its portrayal of hedonism it pretends consequences don’t exist.

Herein lies a difference between freedom and hedonism. Freedom allows a person to make his or her own choices, but also measures the consequences of such choices. Consider what it means to live in a free country. We can worship how we please, but not if our worship includes child sacrifice. We have free speech, but we can’t yell "Fire!" in a crowded theater. We can’t do these things because freedom measures the consequences of our choices and then restricts some options that may be harmful. In contrast, hedonism tells us to do whatever will give us the most pleasure at any given moment. Consequences aren’t weighed in the balance of making a decision, because if they’re even potentially negative they contradict the goal of hedonism – which is the pursuit of pleasure. Sexual "freedom," or hedonistic sexual pleasure, is one of the themes of Undeclared.

"Now’s the time we can experience anything," Steven says to the object of his obsession, Lizzie, in episode one. "I can stay up to 11, watch TV, eat candy all day …"

"You know what we should do?" Lizzie suggests – about to indicate that Steven’s setting his sights too low. "We should have sex – for fun. Do you have a condom?"

As simple as that, Steven and Lizzie hook up. Isn’t college fun? Isn’t freedom wonderful? It could be mildly problematic that Lizzie’s cheating on her boyfriend Eric, or making a poor choice in being frivolous about sex. But that would be an example of Steven and Lizzie defying their collegiate commitment to hedonism by considering consequences instead of their loins. Lizzie, feeling some regret after the escapade, asks her roommate, "Am I a bad person?" The answer from her roommate is "No!"

Lizzie is living according to a rampant presupposition in today’s postmodern world – if it feels right, it must be right. In episode two, she breaks up and then – with the help of Steven – gets back together with Eric. "I don’t know how I’m going to feel about this later, but I think I need this now," she tells Steven. "Then it’s the right thing to do," Steven says, as if right and wrong were indeed subjective and only dependent on the blessing of an individual. To make decisions based on whatever feels best at the moment is to ignore reality; namely, the reality of consequences, which do exist even though they aren’t a part of the doctrine of hedonism. In this way hedonism is anti-freedom. The real life consequences of promiscuity are gut wrenching, even if there is lustful pleasure in the heat of the moment. It’s a rip off that television doesn’t address because lust attracts more viewers, and sells more advertising. We must pity those who have let television influence their perspective on reality (this would be true of most of us to one degree or another). It’s a deep betrayal when one experiences the painful reality of consequences when he or she was focused on the passion of the moment.

Another of Undeclared’s obsessions is alcohol – beer, in particular. The show’s premiere begins with the guys throwing a beer bash on their floor, while the RA gives a conspiratorial wink and nod. In episode two Ron – like a frat boy who believes he and beer have an actual relationship – can think of no higher calling in life than to drink: "We’re not roommates until we kill a keg together," he informs his friends. Again, this is a somewhat realistic portrayal of an obsession on college campuses – the Greek system is living testimony to it. But it’s a shallow and one-sided presentation of alcohol on college campuses. For one thing, it doesn’t go far enough. At what college party is beer the only substance being abused. What about hard liquor, pot, or hard drugs? If this is reality, then let’s show reality! Undeclared also doesn’t go far enough in addressing the consequences of alcohol.

Other than some mild retching, it seems all this alcohol consumption is just good fun! The Los Angeles Times gave the big picture when it reported the following drinking related facts:

* About 159,000 of first-year college students will drop out of school for alcohol-or drug-related reasons, according to the Core Institute.

* More than 60% of college males and about half of college females who are frequent binge drinkers (the Times reported that nearly half the nations 10.4 million 12 to 20-year-old drinkers were binge drinkers) say they drink and drive, according to a 1995 report from the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism.

* Heavy drinking is the primary cause of date rape, car accidents, campus violence and student deaths, according to Phoenix House, the substance abuse and treatment agency located in New York, Texas and California.

Again, in the quest for hedonism Undeclared misses realism. Drinking is addressed as nothing more than what college students do – and the fact that it’s presented as normative and positive demonstrates again that hedonism reigns. Undeclared exists in a moral vacuum, where neither right or wrong exist – and calls it freedom.

While entertainment executives say that Hollywood merely reflects cultural reality, critics of Hollywood’s immorality say it influences culture. Either way, Undeclared is presenting a scary college world where pursuit of pleasure is a student’s highest calling – no matter the consequences. It’s a sure recipe for slavery, all in the name of freedom.