Parks and Recreation heads to D.C., where it runs into a few real-life politicians.

Warning: Article contains spoilers.

Over the past three years (we don’t talk about the first season), Parks and Recreation has made a very strong case for itself as the best comedy on TV. Archer might be the funniest, Louie the most cinematic and daringly personal, Community the most formally inventive, 30 Rock the most quotable (at least during its heyday) and Childrens Hospital the most gleefully absurd, but Parks and Rec delivers the most pathos, hilarity and – increasingly – meaningful political satire on a consistent basis. It’s only grown more ambitious, successfully introducing serialization last season while still managing to balance its ridiculously strong ensemble and give each character a chance to shine during any one episode (both things that Community, for instance, has struggled with).

In other words: It’s damn good to be back in Pawnee.

In the season five premiere, “Ms. Knope Goes to Washington,” everyone is dealing with the consequences of the various major life changes that occurred in last season’s finale. Sitcoms thrive on familiarity and reliability, not change, but Parks and Rec has made it abundantly clear that it’s not interested in maintaining the status quo. And, thankfully, it’s forcing its characters to deal with the real difficulties of adaptation while still being really freaking funny – no episode with Ron Swanson talking about barbeque virginity can ever be too much of a downer. (For an example of a show that also forced its characters to change but lost most of its appeal in the process, see Weeds, which became less interesting the farther it got from its original premise. Fortunately, Parks and Rec seems to be avoiding that trap.)

So, here’s where things stand as the new season begins: Ben is off in Washington, D.C. running a congressional campaign and he’s brought April with him as some kind of assistant/general annoyance. (“Ms. Knope Goes to Washington” does a great job of giving each character a few great moments, but April’s the one character who doesn’t get a whole lot to do – well, besides Jerry, but he’s just Jerry. She does get the great tag with Andy (the Greatest Tour Guide in the World) and I love the shot of her casually slapping the phone out of Ben’s hand, but, still, she could be used better. She’s my favorite character – barring Ron F—n’ Swanson, of course – and she’s evolved considerably over the show’s run, so hopefully she gets a bit more material next week.)

Leslie and Andy are in town for a weekend of romantic reunions, government meetings, self-guided museum tours and waffle sundaes (which is more or less Leslie’s heaven) and everything seems to be going swimmingly at first. Andy does his thing – misidentifying the Capitol first as a boob and then as the White House, channeling his inner Nicolas Cage by investigating used gum for treasure maps and passionately (and publically) reuniting with April – while Leslie does hers, bonding with Ben over historical candlesticks while admiring his butt. Yep, that’s Leslie.

But Leslie’s visit has a purpose – making a proposal at the Interior Department for a federal grant to clean up the Pawnee River – and that’s when things start to go wrong. As much as she might want to believe that she’s living the dream, she has to realize that her relationship with Ben has fundamentally changed. He’s an influential figure in the center of government power, surrounded by Hot Rebeccas who work at the Pentagon and flippantly discuss hundred-million dollar appropriations bills; she’s a councilwoman from a town no one’s heard of (is it Pawnee, Missouri or Pawnee, Kansas?) who doesn’t even have enough pull to land a meeting with a minor bureaucrat.

She says she’s half of a power couple – which may have been the case back in Pawnee, where she’s a power player and Ben’s just her advisor – but she’s suddenly confronted by the fact that she’s no longer the superstar in her relationship, which must be a very alien feeling to someone like Leslie Knope. So all she can do is get passive-aggressive with the Hot Rebeccas, tear up in front of numbers four and 26 on her list of amazing women and snap at John McCain in a coat closet. (Okay, even if the point of those cameos was more or less to say, “Look who we can book!” they were still pretty neat.)

Ron similarly finds himself in a strange and unfamiliar position. He’s lost both Leslie and April, the two people he could rely on to make sure he didn’t actually do any work, and the director of the Parks Department is suddenly faced with the unthinkable task of actually having to lead. To put it delicately: he experiences a bit of a learning curve. (Specifically, one involving watered-down beer for children, toy pig’s bladders and a quintessentially Ron Swanson “permit” that just says, “I can do what I want – Ron.”)

Tasked with organizing the employee appreciation barbeque (or, rather, the Leslie Knope Employment Enjoyment Summerslam Grill Jam Funsplosion) that traditionally involves popsicles, slip-n-slides, watermelons, gazpacho-offs, puppet shows based on email chains, soap bubble guns and “Parks and Dolls,” a one-woman show about – wait for it – rules and regulations! (How very Leslie.) Of course, Ron’s not having any of that; specifically, no grown men in costumes and, “most of all, no f—n’ vegetables.”

In his eyes, the barbeque is an opportunity to consume large amounts of beer and pork – and little else. It doesn’t even occur to him that, this being an event to reward his employees, he should, perhaps, take those employees into consideration. As awesome as Ron Swanson is (and he’s nothing if not awesome), he’s also extremely myopic, often unable to see beyond himself until someone forces the idea on him.

Today, that person is Chris, but not until the staff has more or less mutinied due to lack of food. Their legitimate (but still annoying, frankly) complaints eventually send him driving off in his truck, the barbeque still aflame behind it. It’s a low moment for his character, showing very clearly just how selfish and uncooperative his governing sense of individualism can make him, but it’s also just really, really funny watching the trailer billow smoke as he drives off in a childish huff.

The episode does a great job of showing just how insufferable it is to have to be around Ron without making him insufferable to the audience at home – again, mostly because it always undercuts how aggravating he’s being with a joke. (Having Ron Swanson wax poetic about meat will never, ever fail to be hilarious.) It’s a very delicate tonal balancing act that the writers and Nick Offerman both pull of extraordinarily well.

Unsurprisingly, even Tom and Ann (err…Haverkins) are having trouble adjusting to their new relationship. Or, rather, are having trouble adjusting to the idea that their relationship is over. (Only April and Andy, those strange paragons of domestic bliss, seem to be handling the changes forced on them by “Win, Lose or Draw” well.) Aziz Ansari and Rashida Jones make a great comedic duo and it’s been nice to see Ann, who often feels like something of an afterthought (despite Jones being tremendously enjoyable in the role), getting more integrated into the ensemble, but, on the other hand, Tom and Ann never have and never will make sense as a couple. As a short-term fling? Sure. But as actual live-in partners? Not a chance.

So, after pretending to still be together out of spite (and a desire on Tom’s part to not go bankrupt), they finally break up – once and hopefully for all – after Donna uncovers their ruse and gives them an out. It’s been fun watching them torment each other, but that particular subplot had run its course and it’s a good sign that the writers recognized that and were willing to bring it to a close.

That brings us to the terrific scene where Chris confronts Ron in his office. It’s a scene that’s played almost completely straight, an honest recognition that Ron Swanson, for all his glory, simply can’t keep operating the way he has in the past now that he doesn’t have Leslie and April to back him up. Chris noting that he’s telling Ron this not only as a friend but as his boss is a particularly nice touch; for all its frivolity, this is a show that takes its characters seriously, and made clear the gravity of the situation without overstating it.

There was a discussion over at The A.V. Club a while back about what the sitcom equivalent of The Wire is. Parks and Rec was mentioned, and while it bears certain similarities to David Simon’s masterful drama (set in the world of local government, expansive cast of recurring characters, etc.), it’s ultimately a poor comparison. (The A.V. Club-ers agreed with me, quickly setting aside Parks and Rec and ultimately settling on, if I remember correctly, the original U.K. version of The Office, which is about as perfect a choice as they come.) If there’s a dramatic cousin to Parks and Rec, it’s The West Wing (a linkage made obvious by Bradley Whitford’s guest role in “Live Ammo”), not any of the grim HBO or AMC series.

Parks and The West Wing have their moments of cynicism – about the capabilities and motives of the government, the press and even the public – but they’re both fundamentally idealistic shows. The voters may be idiots, but at least they’re “idiots who care,” as Leslie memorably once said. The amount of red tape slowing a simple project like turning a pit into a park may seem insurmountable, but not with a little pluck and determination. An evil candy company may be bankrolling the moronic candidate for city council and holding the town hostage on his behalf, but the courage and intelligence of the right candidate – and her team, this being a show about the power of communities, after all – ultimately wins the day.

There’s something very Frank Capra about Leslie Knope and Pawnee as a whole, a comparison that the episode makes abundantly clear by invoking the director’s Mr. Smith Goes to Washington in its title. As with Parks and Recreation, Capra wasn’t the least bit shy about acknowledging that there is darkness and corruption in the world (It’s A Wonderful Life is an incredibly depressing movie right up to the ending, for instance), but affirms that the right and the good can prevail. There’s room for a little bit of cynicism and a little bit of idealism in the worldview of both Capra and Parks.

So, we don’t end with Chris telling Ron to shape up or with Leslie tearing up in a closet and unintentionally berating a former nominee for President of the United States. We don’t even end with Leslie announcing her plan to clean up the river two hours at a time, by herself if need be. We end with the staff gathered around to partake of Ron’s peace offering of corn on the cob (a vegetable!) and of Tom, the loyal, lovable – and delicious – pig (and with Leslie Skype-ogling Ben’s butt). Because no number of Hot Rebeccas are any match for one Kickass Leslie. All is well in Pawnee. It’s good to be back.

Tidbits:

–D.C. food trucks are the best, even if I’ve never run into a waffle sundae.

–Ben’s incredulous response of “Pants!” to Andy asking him whether the cocktail party was a pants or shorts affair is a great example of what a great straight man Adam Scott is. It’s not even a joke – it’s just one word – but in Scott’s hands, it’s hilarious.

–The high point of Leslie’s day was being mistaken for Beverly D’Angelo by a Japanese tourist. Well, it could be worse – wasn’t Liz Lemon mistaken for Ruth Bader Ginsburg once?

–“It’s 120 degrees out with 200% humidity because this is a stupid swamp town.” That’s a pretty accurate assessment of summertime D.C. weather.

–Donna laughing her ass off at Tom? Awesome. As was her speech about having told various lies about myriad relationships.

–For further evidence of Retta’s (Donna) awesomeness, check out this pretty great tumblr.

–SPARKLE SUDS: DRESS LOUD

–DISCO DAIRY: SPREAD THE PARTY

–SPARKLE SKIN BY ANNIE: TWINKLE TWINKLE, BIG STAR

–“There’s a mall? That’s awesome, I need to get some flip-flops.”

–“Everyone, meet your meat.”

–“This is your dinner. His name is Tom.” (It is his given Christian name, after all.)

–“Chris Traeger feelings update!”

–“Raisins: It’s nature’s candy.”

–“In my opinion, not enough people have looked their dinner in the eyes and considered the circle of life.”

–“By the time this day is over, they’ll have been taken by the grill and delicately and tenderly shown the ways of flavorful meat love.”

–“Could we just real quick stop at the nearest place that has free pants?”

–“We’re overrun by raccoons and obese toddlers.” Would still make a better city slogan than, “Welcome, Vietcong soldiers!”

–“Hey, look, a handgun! I call it!”

–“The White House! America’s most whitest house. Most notably, it’s where Sinbad lived in the film First Kid.” This made me weirdly nostalgic.

rgifford@umdbk.com