Its apparently unfathomable popularity is just another thing that makes Fuller House so incredible. As I did last season, this go-round I mined the show for its worst jokes—there are a lot of “Isn’t it funny when white people say things associated with black culture?” material in Season 2—paying special attention to its canned laughter and the “Wooo!”s and “Awww!”s of the robo-audience that prompts you to have what someone on Fuller House would (but thus far hasn’t) refer to as “all the feels.”
Though I think this really might be the worst show I’ve ever watched in its entirety, I am nonetheless riveted to it. (Hence watching in its entirety.) Fuller House functions as a comedy if you watch at a remove and laugh at the suggestions of what’s funny, per its laugh track. In practice, you are laughing at it when it beckons you to laugh with it. Thus, much like Sarah Palin at her jokiest, it is unintentional intentional comedy. It’s a tremendous, despicable, can’t-not-watch-able aesthetic.
