once more with feeling

[Parks and Recreation] has abandoned mining the uncomfortable for laughs, in order to explore the comedic potential of super nice people.

Before Parks established itself as more than an Office clone, Leslie Knope was a Michael Scott knockoff, a deeply flawed boss with foot-in-mouth disease. But as Parks began to find its own voice, Leslie necessarily became kinder, less irritating, and more competent. She can now be relied upon to infallibly dispatch all incoming disasters. With Michael, there is always the possibility events will go pear-shaped; with Leslie there is only the possibility they will not meet her very high standards. […]

If deep down inside, under the endemic disgruntlement of The Office or endemic egomania of 30 Rock, most sitcom characters are “good people,” on Parks there’s no deep down inside about it. Has a sitcom ever had so many characters that are variations on ”sweet, kind person?” The driven sweet, kind Leslie; the goofy sweet, kind Andy; the grounded sweet, kind Ann; the guarded sweet, kind Ben; and Ron, whose mustache only hides the sweet, kind guy lurking underneath. Even the romance between Andy and April is a story about the power of niceness.