But there is something about the show that rises above the provincial humor – some part of the patois that appeals to the wider circle of pop culture … I think. I chuckle because I know the origins, but not because I’ve experienced them. It is an inside joke that has been explained to me. After so many seasons, I’m able to translate the humor, but not understand it fully. Sometimes this borders on the literal – I have a Letterkenny glossary open on my phone, to decipher the slang that peppers every exchange. The stereotypes, I am told, are spot-on, a sort of pastiche that manages to capture reality better than reality itself.Īs an outsider, looking in, appreciating the humor of the show is akin to learning a new language. A friend who went to university in the area told me that every single character was a version of his friends at that tender age (two of them, remarkably, even sharing names with the show’s inseparable and vacuous hockey players). According to my highly scientific Twitter research, the show is laser-accurate in its depiction of the region and the archetypes within. The humor of the show – which follows the travails of various stratified groups within the town (the hicks, the hockey players, the Mennonites, and the “skids” – the meth-head social misfits who dance outside the local convenience store) is not just Canadian, but highly specific to the eastern provinces and to the Ottawa Valley. Still, this required a measure of commitment from an American West Coaster, to sit through those early episodes, occasionally with the captions turned on. I’ve recently finished watched all ten seasons of Letterkenny – the Canadian cult comedy now available in its entirety on Hulu – a feat which is less impressive than it sounds, as each is a mere seven episodes long. Posted in: Nothing to Do With Travel, Random Musings
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