That song, man… My take on the success of Weeds is tied distinctly to the show’s creator’s choice of theme song (even though it's only used a couple times on this Season Four set: “Little Boxes” is one of the most subversive folk songs ever. As a kid, I remember the only tape in my grandma’s car was a collection of soothing folk tracks, and my brother and I came to know the collection well (it’s the kind of thing when I can’t remember where I put my keys twenty minutes ago, but I know every word and inflection of word to songs I haven’t heard in twenty years), but it wasn’t until we were older that we figured out what the song was all about.

“Little boxes all the same/A green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one/And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky/And they all look just the same.”

What is this? A testament to the hegemony of straight-edged Americana? A theory that no matter how different you are, society views you just the same? In any case, it was marvelous hearing the version of the song included on this Weeds: Season Four box set because it gave me both the kind of nostalgic kick I love and it made me question what that kick actually means…

And it’s this same thematic push/pull that drives Weeds. I hadn’t had much familiarity with the series before I reviewed the show's third season -  I knew that Mary-Louise Parker’s performance was excellent (she's always solid, in my book), but aside from the hash-green haze of the show’s plain-as-day subject matter, I didn’t know what to expect.

What I got was a surprisingly astute tale of fringe American lifestyle that is, like its theme song, both decidedly other and really just the same. The hinge of the show is Parker, who plays Nancy Botwin, a loving, doting suburban mother who just happens to have a job that involves a lot of marijuana. She is equal parts victim and perpetrator, and that’s what gives her character such a round, multi-faceted impression.

You see, Nancy started dabbling in weed sales as a way to keep up her family’s lifestyle after her husband’s sudden death. She’s not exactly a mother-earth hash-lover; she simply views her dealings as a more lucrative alternative to taking up another shift at the office (so to speak). But as Season Four starts up, it seems that Nancy's entire method of doing business has been forced to do a switcheroo - now relocated to a sleepy Mexican beach town, she still has the same trials and tribulations as before, but there's a new cast of eccentrics thrown into the mix, which makes things a bit...unpredictable.

Most notably, we get Albert Brooks as a jackass loser gambler, a character who rustles the feathers of both Nancy and her cronies - Doug (Kevin Nealon) and Celia (Elizabeth Perkins). And Weeds continues to impress simply because it allows its characters to interact with one another with gloves off - everything is fair game, and this dynamic slipperiness affords the show a surprising degree of unpredictability.

It’s this devil-may-care balance of the serious and light that gives Weeds its smoky sheen. Just when you think the show is headed down a dreary and tragic path, there comes a twist in the road that careens it into loony, almost surreal territory. I don’t know whether I'd call Weeds a tremendous show or just a tonally-unique one, but this writer continues to find himself drawn into the series' world. Characters aren’t quite heroes, they’re not quite villains; there’s definitely a histrionic quality to the show’s storytelling (it is a TV show, after all), but there’s a refreshing, left-field realism to the series that truly gels.

I wish there were more shows like it.