TV

An Ode To The Best Episode Of ‘Friday Night Lights’, And Television, Ever

Television peaked at the season 1 finale of 'Friday Night Lights'.

Friday Night Lights season 1

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Television may have peaked with Friday Night Lights.

There are many kick-you-in-the-crotch, spit-on-your-neck fantastic episodes of television.

There’s that one episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians where Kim loses her diamond earring in the ocean in Bora Bora. There’s Buffy The Vampire Slayer’s spectacularly corny musical extravaganza ‘Once More With Feeling’. I’m sure there’s even an episode of Game Of Thrones that’s up there, though I missed the train to Westeros in 2011 and it feels frankly frightening to catch up now.

However, one episode of television must stand above the rest. One must be declared the GOAT of the small screen.

I’d like to make an impassioned case for ‘State’, the glorious conclusion to Friday Night Lights’ masterpiece of a first season.

For the uninitiated, Friday Night Lights follows a high school football team in the town of Dillon, Texas as they navigate not only their tiny town’s tumbleweeds, but all the #drama that comes with the world of football.

We’re talking injuries, affairs, a cheerleader’s religious conversion at the hands of Logan from Gilmore Girls, and even a jump-the-shark murder plotline all true fans pretend didn’t happen.

Y’know, the usual small-town stuff!

While Friday Night Lights never gathered a particularly large audience during its time on screen between 2006 to 2011, the show was a success amongst critics and its passionate fanbase.

The Washington Post called it “extraordinary in just about every conceivable way”, and it even contributes to the foundation of Leslie Knope and Ann Perkins’ full-hearted friendship. Sure, they might disagree on the topic of Riggins v. Saracen, but I’m pretty confident the Pawnee Goddesses would back me up when I say ‘State’ is a particular corker.

It’s an episode with a lot going on (i.e. word getting out about Coach Taylor accepting a new job in Austin, and the news that Tami Taylor is pregnant), but the focal point is the 2006 Texas High School State Championship, a game the entire season (both football and television) has been leading up to. And boy is it worth the wait.

But like my beloved Dillon Panthers, ‘State’ is a bit of an underdog and hasn’t quite reached the legendary status it deserves. Let’s right this wrong, shall we?

It Serves The Feels

Undoubtedly, the most basic criteria an episode must meet is the ability to stir up some serious feels. It’s simply got to make us laugh or cry or ravenously crave pretzels (even though they really do make you thirsty).

‘State’ does exactly that.

We share the Dillon Panthers’ euphoria when they see their names printed in the stadium’s locker room — but we also experience their disappointment and defeat when, at half-time, we’re back in the same room with a side who haven’t yet made it on the board.

Later on, we’re ugly-crying because Coach Taylor — basset-hound eyes scanning a room of twenty-somethings pretending to be high schoolers — has delivered yet another TED Talk worthy motivational speech.

Through a fictional football game, ‘State’ hurls us through elated highs and soul-crushing lows, dextrously balancing heart-warming moments with points of despair in a way very few episodes (but probably, y’know, actual games of sport) have successfully pulled off.

It Fulfils On Fantasy

Do you use imagined worlds as an emotional escape from the increasing bleakness of our own reality? Then you’ll love ‘State’s for its illustration of the ultimate fantasy: true love!

Coach and Tami Taylor are in their finest myth-peddling form in this episode, successfully convincing us love might actually exist by portraying a relationship that isn’t flawless, but is built on a foundation of support that’s as rock solid as Riggins’ abs.

Exhibit A: In their first scene together, Coach is annoyed Tami didn’t come to his rally. Their frustrated and sarcastic spat is caused not by the melodramatic factors we typically see on TV, but by the everyday aggravations of competing schedules and communication hurdles.

It’s also brief: when Coach has to hop on the bus to Dallas, they quickly push aside their anger and show each other genuine warmth and affection.

They continue to make me love/hate them when, against the backdrop of the Dallas skyline, Tami tells Coach she’s pregnant. The shaky camera action that gives Friday Night Lights its home-movie feel perfectly complements Connie Britton and Kyle Chandler’s authentic performances in this scene.

The struggle between disbelief and dawning realisation in Coach’s eyes, Tami’s nervous smile, and their ecstatic hug punctuated with “I love you” is so adorable it makes me SICK.

Superior Acting

While Connie Britton was tragically robbed, Kyle Chandler and Zach Gilford both scooped Emmy wins for their roles in Friday Night Lights.

And take it from me, a person who took extracurricular drama classes: the cast of Friday Night Lights really are stellar, especially in ‘State’.

The way Gaius Charles and Zach Gilford bounce off each other when speaking to reporters in the opening scene expertly highlights the juxtaposition between Smash Williams’ braggadocio and Matt Saracen’s bumbling awkwardness. Taylor Kitsch does every Riggins apologist a solid by illuminating only the side of 33 we want to see: the loveable scoundrel with a heart-of-gold who scrambles to get his ex-girlfriend tickets to the championship game, and hoists a small child he’s semi-adopted this season on to a parade float.

The quiet comedic genius of Jesse Plemons as dorky Landry Clarke (or ‘Lance’ as Coach likes to call him) is at its best when he prepares ‘erotic chocolates’ for Adrianne Palicki’s fascinatingly complicated Tyra Collette. Minka Kelly even makes the often-simpering Lyla Garrity likeable when, in a symbolic middle finger to both her father and Street, she yells along to Dirtie Blonde’s ‘Walk Over Me’ in a beat-up car with the same energy as every uni student at a house party when ‘Mr. Brightside’ comes on.

Excellent Use Of Bangers

Unlike, let’s say, The O.C., Friday Night Lights is not a soapy high school drama known for its bangin’ soundtrack.

It uses music sparingly, the way everyone tells me I should use salt but I refuse to. Even so, it pulls off what I believe to be the finest music moment in television history in this episode, an element that’s undoubtedly part of the reason ‘State’ consistently ranks near the top of every ‘Top 10 Best Friday Night Lights Episodes’ listicle.

When the Dillon Panthers finally win the state title — a reward they believe will absolve a year of pain — we expect the moment to be one of sincere and earnest exhilaration.

Instead, we watch the Panthers parade through Dillon in slow-motion, their triumphant smiles mirrored by the gleeful spectators but set against Tony Lucca’s bittersweet, almost nihilistic cover of ‘Devil Town’.

The soundtrack rips us out of the glory and forces us to consider that maybe there is something vampiric about a town that places its identity and happiness on the shoulders of teenage boys.

Furthermore, glances to the clearly resentful Lyla and Tyra remind us that while the ‘devil town’ of Dillon may band together around its Panther heroes, it lets others clip through the cracks, even those who were once at the epicentre of its worship.

When Coach leads the Panthers out on to the AstroTurf before the championship, he holds out his arms and asks, “Does it get better than this?” He’s obviously talking about the game ahead, but I like to think he’s talking about this episode.

Therefore my answer, like my beloved Panthers’, is an emphatic, “No sir.”


Yazmine Lomax likes people, places and things. More specifically, she likes writing, pop-culture and pizza and especially loves when these things intersect. She tweets @yazminelomax