I don't like it when half-hour comedies appear only sporadically during the television season. I know that the number of episodes in a full-season order has decreased, that seasons are longer, and that networks love to juggle the schedule to maximize sweeps 'n such. And I know that the schedule of filming has nothing to do with the way episodes are parceled out, sometimes in a thin trickle, and so it doesn't make sense to blame inconsistencies of pace or tone on the weeks when the show's in reruns. But it's not just the actors and crew who develop a rhythm — it's also the viewers. A regular appointment schedule with a comedy create a kind of pacing all its own. It's hard to get back in the groove when we're put on a variable reward schedule.
That's how I feel about "Twin Beds," an episode I've been looking forward to ever since I read the description: Barney and Ted both realize they want Robin back after seeing her get serious with Don. And while there's plenty to like in the clever way Lily and Marshall's bed dilemma comments on the choices Robin is facing and the regrets her exes are recognizing, I thought "Twin Beds" missed a chance to add the right touch of resonance to this situation. Maybe it's just my timing as a viewer that's off, thanks to the network's stinginess with new episodes this spring. But I didn't feel the change in the group dynamic as deeply as I was hoping, and this much-anticipated (by me) episode fell a little flat.
Let's explore the good ideas before moving on to what I thought didn't work so well. In the B-story, Lily and Marshall discover that they are sleep-deprived when they collapse on the twin beds at their weekend getaway and don't wake up until check-out time. (Lily: "We missed four prepaid meals." Marshall: "I lost eleven pounds!") They admit to each other that sleeping in the same bed is torture; she's a thousand degrees, he's got dagger-like toenails, she won't let him eat in bed, he drools. So Lily suggests separate beds. (Marshall responds enthusiastically: "Yes, a mini-fridge! And separate beds!") They decide to decouple sleep and sex by having three beds — two for sleeping, one for sex. (Lily responds enthusiastically: "Yes, a sex bed! A dirty, dirty sex bed! And a beanbag chair just for special birthday stuff.")
Meanwhile Don asks Robin to move in (at first just on the couch so he can sit down with the nachos, but then for real) and she asks the group's opinion. Ted's all for it, thanks to her annoying habit of putting the empty milk carton back in the refrigerator ("to remind us to buy milk!" she insists), but Barney doesn't trust Don, whom Robin has been keeping away from him. Turns out Robin hasn't told Don she used to date Barney, and Barney spills the beans in his usual macho fashion: "I like you, Don. We both love a good scotch, we both enjoy my stories, and we both dated Robin!" But she hasn't told Don she used to date Ted, either — Ted, whom Don has spent time with but assumed (with Robin's tacit support) is gay. (Evidence: He takes calligraphy, records Project Runway, and gets petulant when he can't fix creme brulee because his kitchen torch is on the fritz.) Don's freaked out that Robin's core group of friends is 50% composed of her exes, but he gets over it fairly quickly and invites Ted and Barney for sushi at his apartment … where Barney proceeds to play a one-sided match of one-upsmanship by stuffing spicy food in his mouth.