The irony of The Office is that everyone would want to work in that office. No matter how stupid the boss, how deathly the drudgery, or how pointed the boredom—no matter how bad it ever got—who wouldn't want to be a part of the weird little world that Ricky Gervais helped translate for American audiences from his hit British comedy? In NBC's The Office, people are allowed to be quirky, silly, cranky, arrogant, tired, dumb, and mean. In The Office, people goof off and screw up and embarrass themselves. They hide office romances, pull pranks, and slog through the clichéd corporate structure. The show is blunt, real, and absolutely authentic. It has launched the careers of a number of young talents, including Rainn Wilson, John Krasinski, and Jenna Fischer. And it perfectly uses the talents of Steve Carell, who brings a gentle sweetness and a whole heap of heart to a ridiculously ignorant dimwit of a character.
But proving the old adage that there are no small parts, even the minor characters have a chance to shine. Take Phyllis (Phyllis Smith), the seemingly sweet older woman who can sharply remind the receptionist that sales calls need to be given out evenly, not assigned "to whoever you're sleeping with that week." Or Toby (Paul Lieberstein), the put-upon human resources director who, for unknown reasons, is the focus of Michael's ongoing hatred.
The show is held together by a delicate balance of wit, absurdity, kindness, offensive behavior, and sensitivity. There's racism, sexism, homophobia, office politics, and drunken Christmas parties. No show has ever made the tiny stuff so funny—those hobbies and conversations and trivial factoids: bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica. Michael Scott said he wants want people to be afraid of how much they love him. It's kind of scary how much we, too, love The Office.
The "Office" ensemble won a SAG Award in 2006. Carell is also individually nominated this year.
—Anna Bengel