What ‘thirtysomething’ left behind

And if all that sounds familiar, that’s because “thirtysomething,’’ whose first season just came out on DVD, was always seen as The Portrait of a Generation. The lower-case “t’’ couldn’t hide that upper-case reality. From the pilot on, the show openly aimed to articulate the agita of an entire peer group. In that first episode, self-analyzing new mother Hope (Mel Harris) flagrantly stakes out the drama’s sociological turf: “Our parents got together in 1946 and said let’s all have lots of kids and give them everything that they want so they can grow up and be totally messed up and unable to cope with real life.’’

The line might easily have served as the ABC elevator pitch for series creators Marshall Herskovitz and Edward Zwick, as they blazed a trail for generational TV.

“Thirtysomething’’ was one of the first TV shows to be so consciously generational; it was specifically built to represent, to be looked back upon as a cultural snapshot. It was intended to be as emblematic as the 1983 movie “The Big Chill,’’ with boomers lost in the small trials of their daily lives instead of gathered for a momentous funeral. The broad title, which added the “-something’’ suffix to the lexicon of American culture, made no secret of that. Zwick and Herskovitz, themselves in their 30s, were unashamedly basing the show on their own age-related experiences.

Unfortunately, the dawning era of fierce demographic marketing in the late 1980s co-opted “thirtysomething.’’ In the process of singing the boomer song to boomers, “thirtysomething’’ accidentally helped ABC and its advertisers recognize the power of targeting a specific bloc of viewers - a financially climbing bloc buying diapers and cars. Soon, countless TV series were touting themselves as the voice of a generation - of Gen X, of Gen Y, of tweeners - solely to bring in ads. Twentysomethings, 30-somethings, and teensomethings all became little more than groups of consumers with expendable income.

The generational thinking that fueled Zwick and Herskovitz’s groundbreaking creativity became an effective tool for an increasingly wily pop culture. Later shows such as “Friends,’’ “Beverly Hills 90210,’’ and “Dawson’s Creek’’ didn’t feel as organically representative as “thirtysomething.’’

But don’t hold cultural self-consciousness and its role in crass audience demographics against “thirtysomething.’’ The DVD (with chatty extras featuring cast members, writers, and producers) still stands as an extraordinarily written serial drama, one that rejects every event-filled TV convention of its time to focus on the psychological nuances of characters in ordinary life. You may not like the characters, as they teeter between struggling idealism and whininess; a faction of viewers at the time were vocal in their distaste for the self-regarding “thirtysomething’’ ensemble. But you can’t easily dismiss the finely shaded, emotionally honest way their personalities are bared and their stories told.

Unquestionably, today’s TV drama, from “Grey’s Anatomy’’ to “In Treatment,’’ is still basking in Zwick and Herskovitz’s influence, mapping out psychological ambiguities once considered too muddy for TV. Michael (Ken Olin) and his religious crisis, Melissa (Melanie Mayron) and her low self-esteem, Elliot (Timothy Busfield) and Nancy (Patricia Wettig) in couples therapy - these angstful situations weighed enough on “thirtysomething’’ to anchor entire episodes. At their best, the episodes functioned almost like written short stories: carefully sketched, a little open-ended, mundane but mysterious and vibrant.

Yes, agonized Ellyn (Polly Draper), Peter Pan man Gary (Peter Horton), and the rest do sometimes grate, obsessing over their choices and forgetting about, you know, the world. In one of the DVD extras, we learn that real-life couple Olin and Wettig gave the cast T-shirts that quoted a critic: “Skinny White People From Hell.’’ Michael, Hope & Co. are as talky and self-absorbed as the “Mad Men’’ characters are silent and evasive; indeed, the “thirtysomething’’ gang live in reaction to the repression of their parents. But they’re also sincere in their efforts to exist mindfully, and that counts for something - advertising exec Michael, for instance, who is forever fixated on whether or not to sell out professionally. They haven’t yet run into the rampant irony that thrived in the 1990s, offering an easy, fashionable way out of caring.

I was also struck while exploring the DVD set by the way “thirtysomething’’ takes friendship so seriously. It’s a lovely strain running through the first season, as the navel-gazers do take plenty of time to gaze at their friends’ navels, too. Forgiveness between friends is always afoot. In the pilot, the writers are appealingly respectful about the classic conflict between a new parent (Hope) and her friend without children (Ellyn), who feels deserted. And they consistently support the idea that men and women can be true friends: Gary and Ellyn, for example, who don’t ultimately become lovers. It sounds absurd now, as every post-“thirtysomething’’ ensemble series affirms male-female friendship, but it remains one of the happier landmarks of the show.

Matthew Gilbert can be reached at gilbert@globe.com. For more on TV, visit www.boston.com/ae/tv/blog.