The years have been strange to The State. From 1993 to 1995, the MTV sketch show amassed a cult following whose enthusiasm made it at least appear to be the most quotable television program of the ’90s (non-Seinfeld division). But that fervor didn’t do much for the show’s afterlife. Aside from a cobbled-together best-of VHS, The State never saw a commercial release. In the early 2000s, tiny, grainy .movs appeared online, only to be taken down shortly thereafter in anticipation of a DVD release that never came. Even today, YouTube holds only a few blurry classic sketches.
It’s rare nowadays for there to be such a brownout on bygone entertainment; if a show’s not on reruns or in syndication, some kind soul has made it readily accessible online. So cracking the smartly packaged box set that finally saw release on July 15 feels like unearthing a time capsule: All four seasons are included, dressed up with cast commentaries, outtakes, interviews and unaired sketches. Fifteen years ago, The State was the funniest, most absurd show on television, and with most of it existing only in fans’ memories since then, the legend has grown.
Of course, there’s no way the material could live up to the levels of hilarity my 15-year-old self convulsed over. The first season, in particular, gets off to a rocky start. The ensemble was formed at New York University, and after MTV hired a few cast members for the short-lived show You Wrote It, You Watch It, it brought on the entire 11-person crew for a half-hour sketch show. So in retrospect, it shouldn’t be surprising that a bunch of kids just out of college failed to make a more polished product. All the elements that would later make the show so successful—a fondness for non sequitur, an unabashed silliness that embraces immaturity and a gimlet eye for pop culture—are there from the get-go; they just aren’t as refined. Even the cast would agree. In the commentary for the premier season’s fourth episode, the cast members dub it one of the worst and suggest the audience play a drinking game: Every time one of them is embarrassed by a bad gag, they shout, “Drink!” It’d be a dangerous game.
That’s not to say the first two seasons are without their gems. Many of The State’s classic, most memorable characters and scenes come from the early days: hapless rebel Doug, smooth-talking men of leisure Barry and Levon and their $240 worth of pudding, useless motivational speaker Captain Monterey Jack. Creatively, however, recurring characters can also signal stagnation; Monty Python rarely went back to the well, whereas , SNL trades on interminable catchphrases like “making copies.”
In the final two seasons, everything about the show gets better; the writing tightens and the cast takes even sharper turns into the bizarre. And it becomes clear who the cast’s superstars were all along. Though the State was committed to being an ensemble, some members have enjoyed brighter futures. Tom Lennon—star of Reno 911! and now an accomplished Hollywood screenwriter—and the ubiquitous Michael Ian Black are the most skilled performers.
So what held up the DVDs for so long? In a word: rights. As an MTV show, The State was loaded with the pop music of the ’90s, and getting the rights to songs like the Breeders’ “Cannonball” or the Spin Doctors’ “Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong” proved financially prohibitive, according to an apology letter included in the set. New, generic music had to be written, and in some cases, dialogue had to be redubbed. It doesn’t hold any of the sketches back, but it can be startling. When you’ve invested 15 years in replaying scenes over and over in your head, it’s disorienting to discover your memories have a completely new soundtrack.
The State: The Complete Series (MTV, $79.99) is out now.
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