There’s a magical moment, three minutes into Friends: The Reunion. It’s blink-and-you-miss-it—a wordless glance. But in it lies the answer to the age-old question: What the hell is it about this show? How has a straightforward NBC comedy that premiered nearly thirty years ago blown up into a worldwide cultural phenomenon that remains not only relevant but adored? It happens when Matt LeBlanc arrives to meet his co-stars on their old set. He wraps Lisa Kudrow in a big bear hug (“Look at you!” “Look at you!”) while Jennifer Aniston and David Schwimmer look on in the background. A tearful Aniston, standing in the background, turns away from the camera to look at Schwimmer—*Can you believe this?—*who returns her gaze with an almost pained smile and a tilted shake of the head: I know.
That right there, is what keeps this show alive, in spite of everything (its age, its dated style, its problematic and outright offensive elements). Everyone wants to believe the actors on their favorite show are actually friends in real life—that the fun they’re having is real. It’s a fantasy really but the cast of Friends really were good friends. As the show’s creators pitched it, Friends was about, “the time in your life when your friends are your family.” That daunting era of early adulthood, when careers and relationships and basically everything but your friendships seem uncertain. These actors, like their characters, lived through that time together under a massive spotlight, no less. The six of them just clicked, and the real-life kinship they had off-screen infused their fictional friendship with a bright, crackling chemistry.
Twenty-eight years later, they’ve still got it. One element of the reunion has the actors doing table reads of some of the show’s most famous scenes, including the one where Ross and Rachel have an argument that leads to their first, passionate kiss. I felt myself blushing while watching the segment, and wasn’t sure if it was due to the awkwardness of watching two fiftysomething actors sitting at a table, reenacting a scene written for immature, high-drama twenty year-olds, or because part of me hoped they’d leap up from the table and make out again. What makes it more exciting is Aniston and Schwimmer’s revelation that they did indeed have a real-life chemistry and sexual tension throughout the first two seasons, though they never managed to get together (allegedly).
But that’s what all reunions are: a terribly awkward, sentimental ritual where we flirt with old crushes, shake our heads at our silly younger selves and wallow in bittersweet nostalgia. We reminisce and cringe, and tell stories everyone knows already. If you’re going into this expecting bombshells, you’re going to be disappointed. But if you go in as a seasoned Friends fan, you’ll have a blast.
The reunion has a lot in common with the show itself: It’s absolutely crammed with big-name guest stars—some so huge that they don’t quite make sense (Malala! Who saw that coming?!). There are plenty of solid laughs (I defy you to keep it together watching Lisa Kudrow break during the blooper sequence) and some parts that just didn’t need to be there (the fashion show, James Corden). Jennifer Aniston cries a lot. And as ever, the best parts are those where it’s just the six of them, sitting around Monica’s coffee table, talking. The only dirt dished is the Schwimmer-Aniston crush—and while it’s thrilling to hear them talk about it, it’s pretty benign as far as gossip goes. This reunion comes as advertised: No controversies; lots of hugs.
Of course there is plenty of controversial discourse to be had about this show. While some fans insist on denouncing the many valid criticisms leveled at Friends in order to preserve the sanctity of their favorite comfort-watch, I think a nuanced discussion of these things amongst the cast and creators would’ve been great—important, even! I’d pay good money to hear what they actually think about things like Fat Monica, Chandler’s trans parent, and the fact that Friends existed in an all-white version of New York City. If I’m reaching for the stars, I’d love to hear their thoughts on Amaani Lyle’s landmark lawsuit against the producers, which revealed far more overt bigotry and harassment allegedly happening behind the scenes. But I don’t think there’s enough money currently in circulation to get them to talk about those things.
Some reviews have called out the reunion for keeping it so, well, friendly. But this isn’t Oprah and the Sussexes. They got James Corden for a reason. These actors are highly skilled in the art of image, and they know what the public wants from them. Yes, they are friends but they are also savvy professionals who know that the image of their friendship is their greatest asset. In contract negotiations, they operated as a union of six—which is how they eventually got those infamous million-dollar-per-episode deals. During the first few seasons of Friends, they only appeared on magazine covers together. The blurry line between cast and characters is what transformed the series from a hit to a phenomenon. Since the finale, some of them spent years resisting it—trying to distance themselves from their Friends identities (I’m looking at you, Aniston and Schwimmer), only to finally give in and go with it. And that’s probably why, after seventeen years, this reunion finally happened. This special isn’t about confronting harsh realities, telling dirty secrets, or changing Friends’ legacy. It’s about preserving it.
In that sense, Friends: The Reunion is a knockout success. It tugs at the same heartstrings the show itself did. It doesn’t outright tell us where the characters “are” now, but allows us to imagine where they might be. There isn’t much talk about the present or future in general. And that’s as it should be. While some fans are dismayed that the reunion wasn’t an actual new episode, that would’ve been the wrong move. Friends is both a relic of the past and a show about a time in life that’s long since over for everyone involved. Furthermore, it’s a show that ended well, with all its beloved characters departing for a happy, hopeful future. A revival would be pointless; it would only spoil the reruns for those who take such pleasure in them.
If anything, the reunion serves to underscore that—for us, and perhaps for the actors too. As Cox says tearfully, toward the end: “This will be the last time that we’re ever asked about the show as a group.” Her castmates nod, all sniffling. “We’re not going to do this again in fifteen more years.” The point of this reunion—maybe all reunions—isn’t to revive the past. The point is to remember it, and then to say goodbye.