On many sitcoms, the laugh track's not on us anymore
When ''M*A*S*H" and ''Seinfeld" came to TV, their creators lobbied for quiet.
They wanted their comedies to unfold without the shrill manipulations of the dreaded laugh track. But Hollywood wasn't ready to let TV viewers chuckle on their own like big boys and girls. It preferred to prod us with fierce aural peer pressure to find its shows screamingly hysterical.
Ah, but the last decade has seen a slow, sure embrace of track-free comedy by TV, thanks to the likes of cable shows ''The Larry Sanders Show" and ''Sex and the City," which proved humor can work without peels of Franken-laughter. And this season, finally, track-free sitcoms have broken through their status as exceptions to become a common programming alternative.
Almost half of the fall's new network comedies aren't sweetened with artificial merriment, including ''My Name Is Earl," ''Everybody Hates Chris," ''Kitchen Confidential," and Heather Graham's forthcoming ''Emily's Reasons Why Not." And they form a critical mass when added to ''Arrested Development," ''The Office," ''Jake in Progress," ''Scrubs," ''The Bernie Mac Show," and ''Malcolm in the Middle." As the networks struggle to jump-start the sitcom market and reach younger viewers, track-free sitcoms are now being taken seriously.
Die, audience-bot, die.
Yes, faux-diences continue to roar at Pam Anderson's ''Stacked," and they find Stockard Channing's needy mugging side-splitting on CBS's new old-schooler, ''Out of Practice." Laugh tracks continue to set our teeth on edge, both on elders such as ''Will & Grace" and newbies such as ''How I Met Your Mother." But TV is more willing than ever to try subtle comic approaches without forcing creators to use bottled guffaws, as ABC did with Aaron Sorkin on his comedy ''Sports Night." They're more comfortable letting shows like ''My Name Is Earl" play out like little movies, and assuming audiences will discover the wit without signs saying: ''Laugh Here."
Technically speaking, track-free series are ''single-camera" comedies, which means they've been filmed without a live audience, and not necessarily in sequence, and then pieced together with extensive editing. They are directorial vehicles, and they allow for voice-overs and the inclusion of the surreal flashes that ''Scrubs" is known for. They enable a show such as ''Arrested Development" to play out with the lightning-fast elements of animated comedy.
The more conventional ''multi-camera" comedies are performed like little theatricals, with four cameras situated in front of the stage to catch the action. Later, these shows are doctored with laugh tracks to make the live audience mirth more consistent and more forceful. The jokes tend to be more punch line-oriented, with a stand-up comedy feel. Multi-camera shows have radio-era roots, as they brought group audiences home to cheer solo listeners.
The cable channels continue to rely solely on single-camera shows -- HBO, for example, which is where Larry David finally got his laugh-track free wish with ''Curb Your Enthusiasm." They make audiences more at home with the format with each passing year. HBO's recent projects ''Entourage," ''The Comeback," and ''Extras" are all funny without telling us so. Showtime has explored single-camera comedy with ''Fat Actress" and ''Weeds," and FX recently introduced ''Starved" and ''It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." Add in track-free cable and network reality sitcoms such as ''Tommy Lee Goes to College" and ''My Fair Brady," and you've got lots of background quiet in prime time.
OK, but here's the rub. It has always been difficult for some of us to tolerate laugh tracks. To me, they're as absurd as the idea of a cry track, which would play sobbing during the sad moments of ''Without a Trace," or a shock track that would let shrieks loose during ''Lost." They bully us into having a particular reaction to what we're seeing. They strongly suggest that we laugh with the crowd or be losers. While laugh tracks make watching TV seem like a communal event, they provide us with a fake and garish community I'd rather not mingle with.
But now, with so many comedy alternatives, including dramedies such as ''Desperate Housewives," laugh tracks don't just seem grating; they're practically unbearable. The more I enjoy the awkward and elliptical humor of ''Extras," or Ricky Gervais's earlier ''The Office," the less I can live with the manufactured laughs of ''How I Met Your Mother." Indeed, ''How I Met Your Mother" is one of the season's more enjoyable new sitcoms, but it is seriously harmed by its laugh-riot factor.
Not every joke in a sitcom is going to be funny. But when an ''audience" is doctored to belly-laugh after dud punch lines, the show ultimately seems even less amusing. The pushy directive to laugh doesn't make you want to crack up so much as it makes you want to groan, loudly.
Matthew Gilbert can be reached at gilbert@globe.com. 