Like most musicals, Glee portrays a heightened reality. To enjoy the show is to suspend our disbelief and accept that we cannot take everything we see literally. When Kurt performed “Rose’s Turn” (“Laryngitis,” 1-18), for example, he began singing in the school hallway, was magically transported to a stage that featured his name in lights, and then returned to (so-called) reality, where his dad applauded him. Other songs take place inside characters’ imaginations: when Mercedes smashed Kurt’s windscreen in anger in “Acafellas” (1-3), the school carwash became the scene of an impromptu performance of “Bust Your Windows,” with the Cheerios as improbably well-rehearsed backup dancers. Then we saw Mercedes, the cheerleaders, and the car all transported to a spot-lit auditorium before cutting back to the parking lot, where only a few seconds had elapsed. In “Dream On” (1-19), Artie, who is paraplegic, appeared to break into a dance routine in the middle of a mall, but he was actually just daydreaming. These logic-defying multi-location performances and dream sequences help define the show as surreal, tongue-in-cheek, and unapologetically escapist.

Most of the show’s characters are larger-than-life, from mini-diva Rachel to the nefarious Sue Sylvester, who is Machiavellian out of all proportion to her role as a high-school cheerleading coach. Important storylines are a bit bizarre—head of the celibacy club Quinn expecting her boyfriend’s best friend’s baby, Will’s wife pretending to be pregnant, and Rachel’s long-lost mother turning out to be the coach of Vocal Adrenaline, New Directions’ biggest rival. Subplots are even more incredible: Josh Groban attended an Acafellas concert to implore Sandy to stop stalking him; Howard Bamboo was arrested after Terri made him buy  …