"Glee"-ful musings

“Glee” could have been a stale idea. The hour-long comedy about a group of misfits and their teacher trying to revive the floundering Glee Club harkens back to the “Fame” TV show and jumps on the multi-million dollar “High School Musical” bandwagon with mid-episode vocal numbers and choreography. The pilot aired in May following the “American Idol” finale, delivered to a ready-made audience of music lovers, amateur singing critics and performer hopefuls who would need an “Idol”-like fix before January’s new season.

But “Glee’s” fresh spin on high school resembles the quirks of “Freaks and Geeks” more than Disney’s squeaky-clean “HSM” and has something “Idol” has to manufacture in many of its contestants: personality.

Listed among the creators of the show, Brian Murphy might be credited with “Glee’s” bite. Murphy’s past work (“Nip/Tuck,” “Popular”) is known for dark, spiteful characters and plotlines. “Glee” retains the complexity of these shows, but has a more upbeat tone that focuses more on the characters being their best than their worst. Messages about being yourself are introduced with heart – a boy coming out to his father for the first time – but “Glee” inherits Murphy’s darkness through vicious humor – “That Rachel girl makes me want to light myself on fire. But she can sing.” The show foils “Nip/Tuck;” the characters are misfits who feel beautiful on stage, even without plastic surgery.

Almost.

The underdogs in “Glee” – a fashionista who joins the football team to make his dad proud (Chris Colfer), a wheel chair-bound guitar player (Kevin McHale), a Whitney-caliber diva (Amber Riley) – believe in their performance abilities, but not in their social skills. The episodes chronicle their trials, but the teen trauma doesn’t just bring about story lines, it drives character growth. Finn Hudson, played by the rosy-cheeked Cory Monteith, exemplifies evolution in the pilot episode, first watching as Colfer gets thrown into a dumpster, then, after befriending him in Glee Club, helping McHale out of a porta-potty locked by his football teammates. Rather than molding their misfit characters to fit the into the airbrushed world of Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens, the creators are embracing distinctiveness, whether that be Finn’s realization that he’d rather follow his intuition than the crowd or an impressive vocal range.

“Glee’s” winning cast, some with notable performing resumes already, deserve the show’s focus. Matthew Morrison, who plays the Glee Club director Will Schuster with a sexy half-smile, was nominated for a 2005 Tony award for his role in “The Light in the Piazza.” Lea Michele, playing Glee Club’s star singer Rachel Berry, started performing on Broadway at age 8 and was nominated for a Drama Desk Award for her leading role in “Spring Awakening” in 2007. Michele shows off her range in songs like Rihanna’s “Take A Bow” and even spars with Tony-winner Kristin Chenoweth in “Maybe This Time” from “Cabaret.” Not every actor has such imposing presence, though. Monteith’s Finn is supposed to be Michele’s vocal equal, but his verses of “Don’t Stop Believing” sound more like Nick Carter than Steve Perry. Still, when he and Rachel lock eyes, his endearing awkwardness makes up for his high notes.

Cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester provides the best comedy, scheming against the self-esteem Mr. Shuster instills in his students with doses of distorted, hilarious reality, as her coaching attitude proves: “I empower my Cheerios to live in fear by creating an environment of irrational, random terror.” Jane Lynch plays Sue with vitriol and deadpan sarcasm reprised from “Role Models” and “40-Year-Old Virgin.” Her absurd proclamations and jogging suits continually upstage her co-stars – and she doesn’t even sing.

As the show progresses, the misfits of McKinley High School have started to find their niche, just as “Glee” has carved one from the imprints of popular movie musicals and performance contests. But the music Glee Club members sing means more to them than notes on a page – and to viewers, the singers matter more than the songs.