Glee Series Finale Review: A Very Sweet Curtain Call

Glee S06E12 & S06E13: "2009" & "Dreams Come True"

In the year 2020, United States Vice President Sue Sylvester will say that the glee club we know today represented not just an escape from the harsh realities of life, but what that harsh reality should strive to be. Of course, she won't be talking about the pride of McKinley High School for the Performing Arts; she'll be talking about Glee as a whole.

Okay, yes, it's true that Sue's speech contained hints of backtracking. It's hard to believe that anyone had any idea what Glee would grow up to be when it inexplicably didn't bomb during its first season—and personally, I'm always a little wary of authors blatantly telling anyone that "this, this is what I meant," because meaning is fluid. Anything can mean anything to anyone, and while intent certainly isn't irrelevant, it's also not everything.

But there was also something lovely about Sue's speech, and given all the bittersweet happy endings of "Dreams Come True," it's difficult to argue with that self-analysis.

Tina and Artie ended up together, a couple of happy, avant-garde weirdos making films and hitting the festival track.

Sam became the coach of the New Directions—one of the most bittersweet Glee destinies of all, given that we can safely assume the post would've gone to Finn in another life.

Klaine took New York by storm as a prominent husband-and-husband production team.

Rachel married Jesse St. James, won a Tony (of course), and served as a surrogate for Klaine.

Mercedes is the new Beyoncé.

Becky and Sue reunited.

Mr. Schue and Emma lived happily ever with rewarding careers and 2.5 kids.

Everything turned out perfectly—except, of course, for the empty space where Finn Hudson and Cory Monteith would have been. In a series finale so defined by past and present and all the people who came together along the way, it would've been impossible for Glee to execute as all-encompassing an ending as the combined "2009" and "Dreams Come True" without acknowledging that space.

The unintentional truth behind Glee's insistence that it created a bubble where the perfect world could flourish is that, in actuality, there's no such thing as "perfect"—and the key to achieving perfection is accepting that fact and living with it. And of course, "living" doesn't mean simply existing; it means finding a way to be happy and fulfilled, even in the wake of great pain, whether that's lost love or being tormented in high school by the prettier, smarter, more popular-er kids.

In "2009" we learned that Kurt was suicidal before New Directions. That's not a feeling you just get over because you joined a club and made some friends. Kurt grew and changed—and New Directions played a huge role in that, by giving him an outlet and safe place to explore who he was and is. However, that dark time he experienced before glee club is always going to be a part of him.

Similarly, while my forced-against-his-will-to-watch-Glee-even-though-he-secretly-didn't-hate-it husband believes that putting Rachel in a happy, healthy, permanent relationship with Jesse was "ballsy" considering the legendary status of Finnchel on the series, I'll argue that the move wasn't ballsy in the slightest. For all of its insistence on being an idealized fantasy, Glee's post-Finn approach to the Rachel character has always been spot-on. Fin will always, always be a part of her life—and a very special, influential one at that—but Rachel has always wanted a career and a fulfilling private life. To expect her to mourn forever is cruel and goes against everything Glee, as described by Sue, represents.

Rachel's Tony was a given, an obvious endgame with roots going as far back as the pilot, but it's impossible to plan a future that won't be affected by roadblocks and other hardships. And on that note, I was delighted to learn that Rachel didn't win her Tony for a role originated by her idol and her everything, Barbra Streisand, but one that was all Rachel's. You can't live someone else's life, no matter how hard you try.

And that brings us to be the big questions we must ponder as we say goodbye to Glee for good: What does it mean? What will it mean in 20 years, to television as a whole and to future audiences who end up watching it on TVLand or discovering it accidentally, on a whim, on whatever we have instead of Netflix by then.

I've had my qualms with Glee in the past, most of them stemming from its periodic delusions that it was the most important thing on TV at a given time and its efforts not to suck while simultaneously letting its ego grow bigger and bigger. The series repeatedly flaunted big storylines that really weren't being adequately represented in other shows... and then squandered them: Coach Beiste's domestic abuse, Becky's mental health/the awful school-shooting story that just kinda disappeared, Dave Karofsky's arc for the longest time.

But Glee doesn't get to decide whether it was/is the most important television series ever. We do. And later, so do others. So, honestly?

Yes, Glee is important. It was a weird little show—like seriously who would've thought a series that routinely featured musical segues would blow up on boring network TV? The occasional musical episode on an otherwise non-musical series has long been a fun, weird indulgence; but an entire series?

I don't believe that it's the sort of thing that can necessarily happen again anytime soon, but the precedent has been set. And we can't discount Glee's most treasured (and important) contribution to TV: an insatiable hunger for diversity. Not only did Glee intentionally write gay, disabled, overweight, and trans characters; more often than not, the show actually cast "real people" in those roles. Such casting in and of itself may not have been so special on its own if not for the scale of Glee's production and, ultimately, how it ultimately treated all of its characters. Overall (because I can certainly name a few examples to the contrary; Glee wasn't perfect), the series' diverse cast wasn't used as window dressing or to earn "diversity points." Kurt, Becky, Artie, and Mercedes were just as much a priority as Rachel, Quinn, Finn, and Puck. Their stories mattered and were given the same spotlight as Glee's more "traditional" stars.

Glee's legacy will not compare the show's plotting to the phenomenal writing of The Sopranos, it won't be mentioned in the same sentence of Mad Men. But boundaries were pushed and Glee's "escapist television" label doesn't quite reveal the entire scope of its meaning. Glee wasn't about the world "as it is" but rather the world "as it should be," and in an era of television so dominated by dark dramas and complex, premium-cable "novels," the importance of a weird, quirky little dramedy with a soundtrack you can listen to in the car with your kids shouldn't be ignored. Bravo.

MUSICAL NOTES

– I was pleasantly surprised by how much I didn't dislike "2009." Then again, Glee's first season was phenomenal, soooo...

– Loved the use of "Don't Stop Believin'"; it was much more poignant than just re-enacting it.

– I forgot how awful Terri was

– The finale contained some really great directorial decisions, especially in showing the transition from the present day to 2020.

– I wasn't sure what the perfect ending for McKinley would be, but I'm still on the fence about it becoming a full-blown performing arts academy. Athletics played a big role in the school as well, and overall, Glee has always done right by revealing that the two are more intertwined than we think at first glance. Like, I once had a college professor who pointed out all the parallels between a professional football game and a theater production and it blew my freaking mind, man.

– Vote for Sue 2024? (That's a terrifying thought.)

– Glee officially ends without an Aggrocrag reference. *sadface*

What are your complicated or not-so-complicated feelings about Glee's final bow?