It has been nearly 20 years since the last episode of Friends, the television sitcom about six twenty-somethings living in New York, aired. With its brick-like phones, surfeit of denim and “curtains” hairstyles, the show instantly evokes the 1990s American milieu in which it was conceived, but its appeal has been very much wider. It is a favourite not only of the generations who were navigating the pitfalls of adult friendships when it aired, but also of millennials (some of whom were but babes in arms) and Generation Z (who were not even that). At one point Netflix struck a deal for $100 million to keep the show on its platform.
The death of Matthew Perry, famous for playing Chandler Bing in Friends, therefore marks the “end of an era” for many. As one of the Friends once put it, being funny “is Chandler’s thing”. It was Friends’ thing too; he was the epicentre of the show’s wit.
When any character appears to take themselves a shade too seriously, Chandler’s cutting riposte is never far behind. Overhearing his friend Ross, a palaeontologist, testily explain to a colleague that “Australopithecus was never fully erect”, Chandler interjects: “maybe he was nervous”. Watching a home video from childhood of a rather heavier Monica, who insists that “the camera adds ten pounds”, he inquires with a quizzical inflection: “so how many cameras are actually on you?” When the arithmetically challenged Joey asks “when was 1990?”, Chandler warns with concern: “you have to stop the Q-tip when there’s resistance!”
Behind all the sarcasm was an irresistible cocktail of charm, affection and lashings of self-doubt. In that respect Perry, harried for much of his adult life by addictions and other demons, was not so different from his character. Though Matthew Perry is gone, Chandler will delight audiences for many years yet, and his will always be the defining comedic voice of a decade.
