Office Party

How TV hit The Office turned Scranton — yes, Scranton — into a pop-culture hot spot

At one point, Wilson is handed a microphone and begins an impromptu Q&A session. A knot of young people starts shouting at him: “Can we have that giant poster above you, or can you take my friend to our senior formal at the University of Scranton?”

The actor won’t commit on the prom date, but he looks around at the mall officials nearby for approval on the poster. Then he shouts into the microphone, “I have just been informed that they say it is okay for these four morons to have that giant poster. All right! You are not worthy. This is the best day of your life.”

Later, the loudest of the four morons tells me it was a good day indeed. Even being labeled a moron isn’t so bad if it’s one of your favorite TV characters doing it. Of course, the morons have captured the entire exchange on a video phone and can’t wait to post it on YouTube.

A FEW YEARS ago, when word started to spread that NBC was planning a comedy featuring Scranton as its putative location, the immediate worry around town was that the show might be called something like The 74,000 Morons. For some reason, Scranton has never fared well in the pop-culture consciousness. Natives have collected perceived slights that have accumulated over the years and present them as evidence.

George Burns, who knew the coal town from when it was a thriving stop on the vaudeville circuit, was asked later in his life if he feared death. “No,” he said, “I already died in Scranton.”

Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, also vaudeville veterans, snuck snide Scranton references into the “Road” movies.

Those were almost tender. Television was more pointed. On All in the Family, Edith Bunker had a cousin in Scranton, and when she wanted to visit, Archie told her, “The only way I’m going to Scranton is if some screwball hijacks the airplane.”

On an episode of The Simpsons, newscaster Kent Brockman reported that one of David Crosby’s livers was still alive and residing in Scranton. On Friends, when Ross is forced to give his pet monkey to a zoo, he is turned down repeatedly — even by the Scranton Zoo. “That was my safety zoo,” he moans.

So when Mari Potis, the membership director of the Greater Scranton Chamber of Commerce, agreed to help the L.A. people producing the first season of The Office and started calling local businesses to ask for authentic Scranton stuff that could appear on the set, her members balked. “They’re going to make fun of us,” they told her.

“Initially, I was a little nervous,” says the energetic Scranton mayor, Chris Doherty. “In my second year in office, I saw an article in the paper — umhh, ‘BBC show is coming to the networks and they’ve decided on Scranton as their fictional home site.’ I was thinking, ‘Oooh, what’s this? It’s something I can’t control as a mayor. Oh boy, I hope this works out.’”

Even the guy who wrote that article the mayor read in the Scranton Times-Tribune was skeptical. Greg Daniels, the executive producer who runs the American version of The Office (others have been created in Quebec, Germany and France), remembers reporter Josh McAuliffe pointedly quizzing him about the tone the show would take. “I assured him this was not going to be a slam on the city,” Daniels says. “It’s just that it’s better for writing to be specific. I’m not going to make fun of Scranton.” The reporter was unconvinced: “He was like, ‘Well, we shall see, Mr. Daniels.’”