Quite simply, the new season of Arrested Development is a staggeringly impressive comic achievement that leaves me dumbstruck in the wake of its brilliance. Yeah, I know that sounds hyperbolic, but it's not. Season 4 is one of the most inspiring comedic accomplishments I've ever seen. What's more, I haven't heard any criticism of the new season that has not been marred by viewers who seem to be betraying everything AD stands for. Some criticisms were just breathtakingly stupid, but I'm even incensed by those who sat back and said "meh." So while I, of course, can't prove the naysayers "wrong," perhaps I can give them four tips to assist them in their viewing experience. Here are four guidelines for Arrested Development fans to better enjoy the new season.

I guess what I'm saying is, anyone who wanted more AD should have been geared up for a show about a group of seriously flawed, unlikable people containing myriad humor styles, some of which require a lot of hard work. I thought that's what the whole AD contingent was praying for. And it's exactly what we got.

SPOILER START: For example, in Episode 1, George-Michael mentions that he wants to change his name because he was embarrassed to learn that pop singer George Michael was arrested for having gay sex in a public bathroom. His dad, Michael, explains that since his grandfather was "George" and his father was "Michael," the idea was to combine them to give him his own new identity as the youngest. Hoping to accommodate his son, Michael then suggests, "I know, we'll call you Boy George." Then there is a jump cut to news footage of Boy George also being arrested for gay bathroom sex.

Is that the greatest AD joke of all time? No, it's not. It's OK. Maybe it's a little forced. But what some would criticize as a weak joke is actually JUST THE SETUP. The real punchline to that joke doesn't even come until more than 10 episodes later. There, George-Michael meets an attractive actress and, hoping to impress her, stops himself from introducing himself as George-Michael and switches to Harris at the last second. (Even that is a joke, playing off of Maeby's incorrect pronunciation of "heiress" moments earlier). Anyway, trying to verify the name she's just heard, the actress asks, "George Maharis? Your name is George Maharis?" George-Michael proudly adopts that as his new, more masculine identity.

Here's the thing: George Maharis was a '60s television star who (like George Michael and Boy George) was arrested in a public bathroom for gay sex. So what even I thought was a mediocre joke in Episode 1 was merely the setup to what is now my favorite AD joke of all time.

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And a lot of the series is like that. Even when the jokes aren't esoteric, they're still enriched when we see the same scenes over and over again from different perspectives. Each time we have a greater piece of the puzzle. Dismissing the show after a few episodes is not only lazy, but guarantees that your opinion is uninformed and, therefore, inherently wrong. Watch the seven and a half hours of streamable content before you start spewing your crap. You'll still be wrong, but at least you'll be less objectively wrong because your opinion's based on something.

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If you haven't seen the new season, then none of this paragraph will make sense to you, but on a first watch, I missed the jokes about: screen-stealer software; the "loose seal" rolling over Capt. Hook's hook; the fact that Maeby is the shaman in makeup; both Michael and George-Michael saying "Gentlemen, start your engines" to a woman they don't realize is their sister/aunt; Lucille 2 getting sexually assaulted by an ostrich; and Mr. Fantastic's own stretching special effect.

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I guess you're right for saying a show isn't funny even though you don't realize that half the content you're watching contains jokes you're missing. I guess your opinion is informed and there's no reason to sit with the material again, getting rewarded by a subtly crafted show that meets you halfway by delivering more and more pleasure each time you extend effort. You're right. Better to talk s**t and call it a day.

What's more, I tend to think AD's creators believed these fans would not be happy with a weak echo of what had been done before. They had to grow the show somehow. But how do you evolve a show that by nature is about not growing? A show that's about arrested development? Well, you can't grow the characters, and for the most part, they didn't. Michael Bluth, older, still unsuccessful, and even further away from the memory of his deceased wife, seems a touch more desperate and selfish. But for the most part, all the other characters are the same. Unable to grow the characters of the show, Mitchell Hurwitz and team decided to grow the show itself.

As mentioned above, each episode follows one character's storyline. It still intersects with the other character arcs, but we as the viewer learn more about the AD universe every time we witness the same scenarios from different vantage points. Season 4 found a new, fresh way of telling the AD story. What's more, it was a storytelling style that was perfectly suited for the new medium of Netflix. Now you can watch the show over and over again. You can rewind and pore over things you've missed. Hurwitz and company made the right show in the right way in the right format, confident that AD fans -- the best fans in the world -- would meet that endeavor halfway. Those fans who do will be rewarded. Those who don't will miss out on a tremendous present. Hopefully, though, they'll keep their bitching to a minimum, because it's distracting me from my third rewatching of the series.

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