Though Matthew Perry is incontrovertibly the most prominent cast member of ABC’s new half-hour comedy “Mr. Sunshine,” I’m more interested in the path of actress Andrea Anders, who plays Perry’s love interest, the marketing director Alice. Anders returned to the arena of ABC comedy on Wednesday in the “Sunshine” pilot, having taken a brief hiatus after the cancellation of “Better off Ted” last spring. It’s interesting that ABC clearly likes Anders (she’s cute, blonde, slightly sassy) and more so that the alumni of “Friends” like her (she starred opposite Matt LeBlanc in “Joey”) but that ABC and its viewers didn’t like “Better off Ted.”

From the perspective of financial success, “Better off Ted” failed because its objective, to satirize corporate culture and the cretins who inhabit it, was humorous to an insufficient audience. To an avid fan of the show — such as myself — the disinterest of the majority is ironic because corporations and the products they sell are the closest we come to universals in our consumerist culture. The lesson to take from the cancellation of “Better Off Ted” is that satire and subtlety are not suited to network television.

With “Mr. Sunshine,” however, it would seem that ABC has not fully given up on these notions of comedy, a position that is simultaneously comforting and confusing. The show centers on Ben Donovan (Perry) and his position as manager of the Sunshine Center, a San Diego sports venue. We find a protagonist suffering from self-inflicted anhedonia and isolation in a workplace populated by a delusional, self-medicating owner (Allison Janney), her emotionally and physically doughy long-lost son, a former basketball star turned unfailingly optimistic assistant and Anders as the co-worker with benefits. In the pilot alone, the circus — literally — comes to town, revealing clowns with axes, lost elephants, a musical and ethnically offensive press conference, and Hugo Reyes’ new career as a janitor. As you can see, we’ve deviated significantly from the simple hook of “Chandler from Friends” and offered audiences a potpourri of the absurd, awkward and borderline offensive.

As such, the show and its marketing valorize two antithetical entities, the former glory of Matthew Perry and the absurd lack of realism in the supporting characters. The result of this mixture can be seen in the show’s title image: a sun in a pastel sky with an unexpressive emoticon face. This seeming urge to revel in the contrary via contradictions suggests an artistic removal that most networks lack. Perry represents the traditional MO of network television: safe, a little stale, male, heterosexual, all characteristics of the mainstream; the supporting characters represent a perverse addiction to what is awkward and unfamiliar. The show would have us identify with Perry as the familiar actor and as the rational character who has perspective on all the crazy surrounding him. However, I find myself drawn to the latter, much in the way that we appreciate Michael from “Arrested Development” but dress up as Tobias or Gob for Halloween. It’s great to see one of the four major networks produce a comedy with a sarcastic point of view and a quirky sensibility, but I need evidence of coherence for the characters and the season. The ability to gather and juxtapose kitsch elements reflects a talent for observation, not necessarily the power to run a network television show.

“Better Off Ted” had a thesis that trickled down to write the jokes; the “Mr. Sunshine” functions on a bottom-up model, in which funny ideas beg for the greater frame of a television series. Sitcoms and procedurals inherently define themselves in opposition to overarching themes and conflicts of serials, but content, especially humor, needs to work towards a greater goal.