Many have tried, but those are hard shoes to fill.
Friends is – and this is irrefutable – a classic sitcom. As a television series, it was often very good: sharp and funny, with a rare and infectious chemistry between its cast members. The years have been very kind to it, partly because the jokes were so funny, but also, crucially, because the series never seemed to want to define itself with too many zeitgeisty pop culture mentions. Nobody ever droned on and on about hip new pagers, for example. The internet had a couple of moments within the entire 10 seasons (Ross and Chandler updating their alumni pages for escalating LOLs was one such occasion), but no character really tied a joke to pop culture in any real way. In the real world outside Central Perk, of course, we were all busy weaving Friends into our own lives.
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The show did fail on some counts: The (wilful?) ignorance around race, the gentle but consistent hum of homophobia, and the persistent fatphobia have all been noted and cannot just be brushed aside under the reasoning that "it was a different time". The "jokes" about Monica's childhood size swiftly became uncomfortable, as did the regular ridicule of Chandler's dad's sexuality, and the intimation that activities involving two men (Ross and Joey's mutual naptime, for example) was "gay" and to be mocked ("Chandler kissed a guy!" crowed Ross in season 7). Those problems, like the show's many high points, are worthy of inspection and critique.
But it also frequently triumphed. In that column of the ledger, the riches are overflowing: complex male-female relationships that acknowledged that these were attractive twentysomethings who could also be (mostly) platonic, series-long jokes that never got old (Joey wasn't very smart, Phoebe was a kook, Monica was a control freak, Ross was a terrible human person with a knack for physical comedy, Chandler was the grown-up all along, and Rachel was The Girl Who Finally Grew Up), the inherent comedy that lies in living within a co-dependent group of friends... Not everything Friends did was brand new, but over the course of a decade, it inspired many others to try and create similar (and indeed better, more inclusive) worlds on television. And as television informs so much of real life (and vice versa), that's no bad thing.
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In the years since Friends ended (there have been 11; count 'em), many pretenders have come along to fill the void. Friends Replacement Therapy (FRT), if you will. The criteria largely stay the same, with occasional tweaks: a group of friends (perhaps including a sibling situation) in a resolutely urban landscape, plus a central "hangout space", dating woes (where applicable), and the planning of elaborate absolutely-wouldn't-work-in-the-real-world japes.
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So, the FRT Checklist includes the following: 1) A true ensemble cast, in their late twenties. 2) An urban setting. 3) Dating misadventures. 4) Actual real jokes, not just a manipulative laugh track. 5) A sibling/sibling-like relationship within the group. 6) An airing on E4 in the UK.
Here, then, are the contenders (subjective and incomplete, of course) for the much-coveted title of "The New Friends".
