Honestly, walking into the tenth year of a sitcom is like attending a high school reunion where you realize you don't actually know half the people there anymore. By the time The Goldbergs Season 10 premiered on ABC, the show felt less like a nostalgic trip to the "1980-something" and more like a frantic exercise in survival. It’s rare for a comedy to hit a decade. Most burn out by year seven. But the Goldbergs? They kept screaming, hugging, and wearing neon spandex long after the original spark had dimmed.
The tenth season wasn't just another batch of episodes. It was a weird, bittersweet, and sometimes clunky farewell to a family that had become a staple of Wednesday night television.
The Elephant Not in the Room
You can't talk about the final stretch of this show without addressing the massive, Murray-shaped hole in the living room. Jeff Garlin’s departure following HR investigations into his on-set behavior fundamentally broke the show's chemistry. For years, Murray Goldberg was the anchor—the "moron"-shouting, pants-dropping contrast to Beverly’s overbearing smothering.
In The Goldbergs Season 10, Murray is dead.
The writers didn't sugarcoat it. They killed him off-screen between seasons, leaving the family to navigate a world without their patriarch. It felt jarring. Seeing the house without Murray sitting in that recliner was a constant reminder of the behind-the-scenes drama that eventually bled into the narrative. They tried using CGI and unused footage in Season 9, which, let's be real, was deep into "uncanny valley" territory and rightfully mocked by fans. By Season 10, they just let him go.
A New Dynamic (Sorta)
With Murray gone, the show shifted its gravity. Beverly became a "Glamma" because Erica and Geoff finally had a baby. This gave Wendi McLendon-Covey—who is arguably one of the best comedic actresses of her generation—new territory to chew on. She wasn't just hovering over her kids; she was hovering over a grandchild.
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It was a smart move. Without the husband-wife banter, the show needed a fresh conflict.
The season focused heavily on the "new normal." Adam graduated high school. He took a gap year. This felt like a meta-commentary on the show itself—stalling for time because nobody quite knew what "The Goldbergs" looked like once the kids were actually adults. Sean Giambrone’s Adam was no longer the squeaky-voiced kid with a Camcorder; he was a young man trying to figure out if he even liked film school.
Why the 80s Nostalgia Hit a Wall
The gimmick of the 80s was always the show's selling point. Big hair. Transformers. The Wedding Singer cameos. But by The Goldbergs Season 10, they had basically run out of "1980-something."
How many times can you reference The Breakfast Club?
The show started reaching for deeper cuts, but the timeline became a complete mess. In one episode, they’re referencing movies from 1982, and in the next, it’s 1989. For a show built on the specific memories of creator Adam F. Goldberg, the loss of his day-to-day involvement after Season 6 was palpable. The later seasons felt like they were written by a committee that had watched a lot of VH1 "I Love the 80s" specials rather than someone living through it.
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The Supporting Cast Carried the Weight
While the core family was dealing with grief and diapers, the ensemble kept things afloat.
- Barry Goldberg: Troy Gentile continued to be a chaotic force of nature. His quest to become a doctor while remaining a total idiot is one of the few long-running gags that never got old.
- The JTP: They were still there, still hanging out, still being the best part of the suburban Philly landscape.
- Geoff Schwartz: Sam Lerner's promotion to series regular years ago was the best decision the show ever made. His "ultimate son-in-law" energy balanced out the Goldberg intensity.
In Season 10, the "Schwartzberg" household became the new center of the universe. It was a natural evolution, but it also highlighted how much the original premise had shifted. The show was no longer about a kid filming his family; it was a standard multi-cam sitcom about multi-generational living.
The Cancellation Reality
ABC officially pulled the plug in early 2023. It wasn't a shock. Ratings had been sliding, and the production costs of a ten-year-old show are astronomical. Cast salaries go up every year. Licensing 80s music isn't cheap. When you add in the fact that the "real" Adam Goldberg had moved on to other projects, the heart was beating a bit slower.
The series finale, "Bev to the Future," didn't feel like a series finale until the very end. It was a Back to the Future homage (obviously), featuring a high school reunion. It wrapped things up with a montage of the real-life Goldberg family photos, which always managed to tug at the heartstrings, even when the episode itself was mid.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Final Season
A lot of critics trashed The Goldbergs Season 10 for being a shadow of its former self. They aren't entirely wrong, but they miss the point of why people still watched. Sitcoms like this become "comfort food." You don't watch Season 10 of a show for groundbreaking television; you watch it because you’ve spent a decade with these people.
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People think the show failed because it lost its creator. Actually, it survived longer than anyone expected because the cast had such incredible chemistry. Even when the scripts felt recycled, the delivery was top-tier.
The Legacy of the 80s
Despite the rocky ending, The Goldbergs changed how we do nostalgia. It paved the way for shows like Stranger Things to lean into the aesthetic of the era, albeit in a completely different genre. It proved that there was a massive audience for "period-piece" comedies that weren't just cynical parodies.
Looking back at The Goldbergs Season 10, it serves as a bridge. It transitioned the characters from the idealized "1980-something" into an uncertain future.
If you're planning a rewatch, here’s how to handle the final season:
- Don't worry about the timeline. It doesn't make sense. Just accept that 1983 and 1989 are happening at the same time.
- Focus on Beverly. McLendon-Covey is doing some of her best work here, finding layers of vulnerability in a character that could have easily been a one-note caricature.
- Watch the real-life footage. The best part of every episode remains the final 30 seconds where they show the home movies the episode was based on. It grounds the absurdity in reality.
- Acknowledge the Murray absence. It's weird. It's sad. But it's part of the show's history now.
The show ended not with a bang, but with a hug. That’s probably exactly how a show about a loud, loving, overbearing family from Jenkintown should have gone out. It wasn't perfect, but for 229 episodes, it was home.
Moving Forward
If you've finished the series and feel a void, skip the spin-off Schooled (it was okay, but lacked the magic) and instead dive into the real Adam F. Goldberg’s social media archives. He frequently shares the "lost" stories that never made it to screen. For the true fan, the "1980-something" never really ends; it just gets archived._