Sunday Snippet: Dave Coulier, Fuller House

“They don’t really make shows like “Full House” anymore. Those sensibilities have gotten gobbled up by acerbic wit and cynical attitudes. We’re taking people back to much simpler time when people looked at each other and said “I love you” and hugged each other.”

Whatever happened to predictability? Very few people get their dairy orders from the milkman, we generally don’t rely on the paperboy to get our news, and more and more of our evening TV is consumed through online streaming services like Netflix. And it is precisely through Netflix that we now binge on nostalgia with the Tanner extended family — “I bet nobody in school has a Joey!” — with the newly released Fuller House.

Boy Meets World has been spun off into Girl Meets World. There’s talk of a fresh take on The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. We cheered when Seinfeld was almost rebooted in Curb Your Enthusiasm. And now Full House is back again in the form of Fuller House. Say what you will about TV executives rehashing some of our most treasured classics, but shows like Full House really did represent something very special in at least my own upbringing.

By most real standards, Full House was never a particularly good show. It was overly cheesy and sickly sweet, but it came from a time when that sort of entertainment was something that the entire family could enjoy. In an interview with the LA Times, Dave Coulier (who plays Joey Gladstone) agrees that these kinds of sickly sweet sensibilities don’t really exist on television anymore. Maybe we’re too “smart” for that now.

Don’t get the wrong impression. I love snark. I revel in cutting wit with a cynical slant. It’s why I enjoy comedians like Louis C.K. and Amy Schumer. But Fuller House is a different animal altogether. It’s the one that you cuddle with. It’s the one that comforts you at night when you’ve had a rough day. It’s the one with a nearly 60-year-old man holding his hands up to his temples like antlers so he can talk like Bullwinkle.

The fan service is obvious and we’ll never look at Danny Tanner quite the same way after watching Bob Saget’s raunchy standup routine. We’ll cringe at the corny dialogue and the canned laughter. But we may just shed a not-so-ironic tear when the dramatic music swells and we learn yet another important life lesson in under half an hour. Maybe we need this wholesome family entertainment again.

Because when you are lost out there and you’re all alone, there are few things more comforting than a light that’s waiting to carry you home. Everywhere you look. Chip-a-dee-ba-ba-dow.