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It turns out that Rick’s cynicism makes him right more often than wrong. When Morty tries to save a sentient cloud against Rick’s advice, the cloud turns out to be plotting the destruction of the universe. Also, Rick’s reluctance to attend the finale’s wedding is justified when it’s revealed to all be a ruse to arrest him. He occasionally feels bad about it after the fact, but it’s never even implied that there might have been any another option available to him.

The difference between this and most of the other sadcoms is that their heroes are genuinely flawed people: Louie’s attempts to garner sympathy are what backfire hardest, Bojack is essentially a mid-talent who got lucky and let it go to his head, even someone like Review’s Forrest MacNeil is essentially blinded by his own obsessiveness, infinitely wrong about how wordily or objective he’s capable of being. Rick is essentially just dragged down by his family — who are various degrees of despicable or ignorant — his washes of guilt a sop to the fact that he has to play nice if they’re to be together.

There may be some genuine wisdom in that position, I think, but it’s hard not to read it as condescending, like it’s doing you a favour by even having emotions, and even more of one by revealing them. The show is in many ways as clever as Rick, one of the more tightly crafted and genuinely creative comedies on the air, but I’m not sure if it understands sadness so much as self-pity.