With so many critics making lists for the best the last decade had to offer, I figured I’d throw my two cents in for good measure. I hereby present my picks for the best TV shows that premiered between 2000 and 2009.
1. Friday Night Lights (2006-present, NBC/DirecTV's 101 Network)
No surprise to regular readers, my beloved FNL is the epitome of great storytelling. Realistic without being maudlin, uplifting without being syrupy, and one of the few shows that really makes you root for its characters to succeed. Television simply doesn’t get any better than this.
2. Lost (2004-present, ABC)
Many have abandoned this twisty drama, about to enter its final season, complaining that its central mystery has produced too few answers even as it continues to conjure more questions. To those naysayers I say, You’re missing the point. Lost has always been about its characters first and the strange island goings-on second.
3. Arrested Development (2003-06, Fox)
I’ll never look at a loose seal the same way again. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you clearly missed out on the best comedy the decade had to offer. Overlooked by the masses for its entire run, fans should just be grateful they got to spend three seasons with the inimitable Bluth clan.
4. Survivor (2000-present, CBS)
The granddaddy of all reality shows, Survivor is still going strong (and, in fact, just finished one of its most compelling seasons yet). Many have tried to duplicate its formula, but few have come close to mirroring its success. There’s nothing like the original.
5. Dexter (2006-present, Showtime)
Haunting imagery combined with terrific storytelling dexterity (pun intended) have led to one of the finest crime dramas in a decade filled with so many over-the-top examples (I’m talking to you, CSI!). Michael C. Hall’s richly layered performance just keeps getting better as we continue to hold a place in our hearts for a character whose lot in life is to commit murder without getting caught.
6. Breaking Bad (2008-present, AMC)
More darkness here, this time in the form of a man trying to do right by his family by involving himself in the cooking and dealing of crystal meth. While the show has more than its share of shocking moments, some of the most jaw-dropping exchanges happen in between, e.g., Bryan Cranston’s Walt, a man whose good intentions have driven him to some gruesome actions, looking positively apoplectic when he finds out his pregnant wife has smoked a cigarette. Raw, complex, sinister, and painful.
7. The Amazing Race (2001-present, CBS)
A couch potato’s globetrotting dream, Race brings customs and cultures to your living room in a way you probably wouldn’t experience if you had taken the trip yourself. Both exciting and—dare I say—educational, this is reality TV you’ll never feel guilty about joining in on.
8. Rescue Me (2004-present, FX)
Denis Leary is revelatory in the role of Tommy Gavin, a firefighter haunted by 9/11 and a seemingly endless stream of personal tragedies. Perhaps more than any other show, Rescue Me is able to walk the delicate line between heartache and comedy, finding gallows humor in even the toughest of situations.
9. Boomtown (2002-03, NBC)
A great show essentially killed by its network. The innovative first season of this crime drama took a Rashomon-style tack, relating the events of an occurrence from different perspectives. We saw things from the points-of-view of the police officers, the reporter, bystanders, the criminal, with each successive glimpse peeling away another layer of motivation for all involved. NBC reduced the show to a more standard, linear format in its second season, castrating the scripts and sending Boomtown to its grave after only six more episodes.
10. Modern Family (2009-present, ABC)
USA Today critic Robert Bianco took some guff for including this comedy on his decade’s best list, but I’m inclined to agree with him. Less cynical than The Office and not as infatuated with itself as 30 Rock, Family achieves all of its laughs honestly. So what if it’s only aired a handful of episodes thus far. When there are this many laughs to go around, plus a team of actors this talented, how can it not be included on this list?
It truly was a great decade for TV, and it was difficult to fit all my favorites into just ten slots. Honorable mention goes to, in no particular order, Brothers & Sisters (a powerhouse ensemble), Eli Stone (one of the decade’s saddest cancellations), The Book of Daniel (too controversial for NBC, it may have been better off on cable), 24 (uneven on a season-by-season basis but groundbreaking in the way serialized stories are told), and So You Think You Can Dance (pure fun).
The next decade certainly has a lot to live up to…
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Monday, December 28, 2009
Men: Not Quite a New Breed
For his return to television, Ray Romano, along with his former Everybody Loves Raymond writing cohort Mike Royce, has created a dramedy that attempts to tap into male emotions that go largely unexplored elsewhere. While Men of a Certain Age (TNT, Mondays, 10pm) means well, it doesn’t quite deliver on its intentions.
Romano stars as Joe, divorced father of two and owner of a party supply store. Joe is not too far removed in tone from Ray Barone (neither one would seem likely to actually want to attend a party, let alone proffer the necessary accoutrements), though since Joe is a few years older than Ray was he spends a lot of time complaining about his worsening eyesight, how he looks naked, his distaste for rap music, and how many ointments he has to apply each day. Along the way he makes attempts to connect with his kids, some of which work, some don’t.
As good a sell as Romano is—and it’s great to see him in a role that doesn’t always require him to crack a joke, though he does plenty of that, too—he’s not even the best reason to watch. That honor goes to the great Andre Braugher, here playing Owen, a car salesman struggling to make ends meet at home while he battles his father, the dealership’s owner, for more respect. We’re used to seeing Braugher in roles that allow him to chew the scenery (think Frank Pembleton on Homicide: Life on the Street). In Men, though, he takes it easy, displaying a likable, Everyman quality he doesn’t get to show often enough.
And let’s not forget about Scott Bakula, no slouch himself as Terry, an out-of-work actor who has managed to avoid growing up but now finds himself wondering what he might be missing out on, though not enough to keep him from pursuing the young barista who’s nearly half his age. Bakula’s character might be the least developed of the three leads; still, he brings his all to the role, committing in a way that might suggest a bit of "been there, lived through that" for Bakula himself.
There’s nothing too big going on in Men of a Certain Age. These three guys, friends since college, don’t have their worlds shaken each week. Terry auditions for a Lifetime movie, Owen gets his dealer car downsized, Joe deals with his son’s anxiety, and they all make time to meet for lunch at Norm’s on a regular basis. All told, it’s a decent effort, so why can’t I shake this feeling that something’s missing?
It’s as if the writers think they’re going deeper into the male mind that anyone ever has, exposing great truths that have never been revealed. If only the result were as lofty as its purpose. Last week’s episode, the show’s third, did work out some of its cutesy, “look at me” mannerisms—it would do well to stop trying to see how many times TNT lets them get away with saying “dick” and “shit” in an hour—and started to move toward its goal: showing that there’s more to midlife than planning for retirement. Like Cougar Town, another age-centric new show that has gotten progressively better since its admirable start, this one may just need a little time to mature.
Romano stars as Joe, divorced father of two and owner of a party supply store. Joe is not too far removed in tone from Ray Barone (neither one would seem likely to actually want to attend a party, let alone proffer the necessary accoutrements), though since Joe is a few years older than Ray was he spends a lot of time complaining about his worsening eyesight, how he looks naked, his distaste for rap music, and how many ointments he has to apply each day. Along the way he makes attempts to connect with his kids, some of which work, some don’t.
As good a sell as Romano is—and it’s great to see him in a role that doesn’t always require him to crack a joke, though he does plenty of that, too—he’s not even the best reason to watch. That honor goes to the great Andre Braugher, here playing Owen, a car salesman struggling to make ends meet at home while he battles his father, the dealership’s owner, for more respect. We’re used to seeing Braugher in roles that allow him to chew the scenery (think Frank Pembleton on Homicide: Life on the Street). In Men, though, he takes it easy, displaying a likable, Everyman quality he doesn’t get to show often enough.
And let’s not forget about Scott Bakula, no slouch himself as Terry, an out-of-work actor who has managed to avoid growing up but now finds himself wondering what he might be missing out on, though not enough to keep him from pursuing the young barista who’s nearly half his age. Bakula’s character might be the least developed of the three leads; still, he brings his all to the role, committing in a way that might suggest a bit of "been there, lived through that" for Bakula himself.
There’s nothing too big going on in Men of a Certain Age. These three guys, friends since college, don’t have their worlds shaken each week. Terry auditions for a Lifetime movie, Owen gets his dealer car downsized, Joe deals with his son’s anxiety, and they all make time to meet for lunch at Norm’s on a regular basis. All told, it’s a decent effort, so why can’t I shake this feeling that something’s missing?
It’s as if the writers think they’re going deeper into the male mind that anyone ever has, exposing great truths that have never been revealed. If only the result were as lofty as its purpose. Last week’s episode, the show’s third, did work out some of its cutesy, “look at me” mannerisms—it would do well to stop trying to see how many times TNT lets them get away with saying “dick” and “shit” in an hour—and started to move toward its goal: showing that there’s more to midlife than planning for retirement. Like Cougar Town, another age-centric new show that has gotten progressively better since its admirable start, this one may just need a little time to mature.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Winning by Default
A little humility can go a long way on Survivor, a lesson Russell H. learned the hard way in last night's season finale as his arrogance and cocksure attitude cost him the million-dollar prize. That's not to say his bravado was unwarranted. He did find two hidden immunity idols without a single clue and a third with only a picture of a moss-covered rock. He controlled nearly every tribal council vote from the outset. And he strategized harder than any other player out there (for which the viewers voted him the Sprint Player of the Season, netting a cool $100,000 to add to his already generous oil company earnings).
It cannot be denied that Russell deserved to be in the final three, but a win was not to be. Convinced that Brett would poll the most votes—so many of his former Galu tribemates were on the jury—Russell got rid of him in favor of keeping the "feckless" (Shambo's word, and it certainly fits) Mick and coattail rider Natalie, the season's winner. Notice how I've just now gotten around to saying Natalie won? That says something about just how deserving I think she is. Sure, she was sweet and cute and let other people make the tough decisions so that she could keep sitting pretty. In this game, winning that million dollars should take more than that. It's easy to give the prize to the nice person, which, in addition to winning three immunity challenges in a row, is what made Brett such a threat. Natalie admitted that she saw strong women being taken out one by one, and so sat back and took a less aggressive approach; essentially, doing nothing is what won her the game. Russell offered her $100,000 just to have her allow Jeff Probst to say the words "Russell, you are the sole Survivor." She politely declined. Something tells me we'll be seeing more of Russell on the show's 10th anniversary edition, Heroes vs. Villains, premiering February 11. He may get that title yet.
It cannot be denied that Russell deserved to be in the final three, but a win was not to be. Convinced that Brett would poll the most votes—so many of his former Galu tribemates were on the jury—Russell got rid of him in favor of keeping the "feckless" (Shambo's word, and it certainly fits) Mick and coattail rider Natalie, the season's winner. Notice how I've just now gotten around to saying Natalie won? That says something about just how deserving I think she is. Sure, she was sweet and cute and let other people make the tough decisions so that she could keep sitting pretty. In this game, winning that million dollars should take more than that. It's easy to give the prize to the nice person, which, in addition to winning three immunity challenges in a row, is what made Brett such a threat. Natalie admitted that she saw strong women being taken out one by one, and so sat back and took a less aggressive approach; essentially, doing nothing is what won her the game. Russell offered her $100,000 just to have her allow Jeff Probst to say the words "Russell, you are the sole Survivor." She politely declined. Something tells me we'll be seeing more of Russell on the show's 10th anniversary edition, Heroes vs. Villains, premiering February 11. He may get that title yet.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
A Solid Landing
Having been raised on such holiday chestnuts as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, A Charlie Brown Christmas, Frosty the Snowman, and scores of other treasures from the unmatched Rankin-Bass factory, I’m always a little skeptical when a new special tries to worm its way into the canon (Shrek the Halls? Ugh.) Disney Prep & Landing, however, is a truly worthy addition to the holiday specials of ole, and if you missed it when it first aired last week, you have another chance when ABC encores it tonight at 8pm (and again on Christmas Eve; it's also available on abc.com).
Prep & Landing introduces us to Lanny, an elf assigned to get houses ready for Santa’s arrival, a task that involves extinguishing fires in the fireplace, making sure the cookies don’t contain nuts, and transporting would-be attack dogs into a magical slumber. Passed over for a promotion in Naughty List Intelligence, Lanny is grousingly paired with a new trainee, Wayne, a dimbulb who doesn’t even know how to open a door but who you just know is going to help save the day in the end. In this case, Lanny and Wayne have to help Santa land at a house in the middle of a blizzard lest the young boy who lives there gets passed on by. It's a charming tale told with a degree of sophistication and humor that doesn't stray into cynical and/or ironic territory, the M.O. of so much family entertainment these days.
The computer animation in Prep & Landing, Walt Disney Animation Studios' first-ever special produced specifically for ABC, isn’t quite up to Pixar levels, but it has more sensory realism to it than Dreamworks’ more cartoonish CG films do. Is it fair to compare a TV special to a feature film? Here it most definitely is, as the creators have gone out of their way to ensure that the voice talent, including Dave Foley (NewsRadio) as Lanny and Derek Richardson (Men in Trees) is in top form, and the score by Michael Giacchino has an ambitious cinematic flair not usually heard in a Christmas special. Do yourself a favor and take thirty minutes out of your busy holiday schedule to settle in with these delightful Christmas elves. You wouldn't want to end up with a lump of coal in your stocking, would you?
Monday, December 14, 2009
Like Father, Like Son?
Rita may have been a nagging wife but does that mean she needed to die? Not that that was the reason for her demise at the hands of the Trinity Killer—his last victim before being offed by Dexter—but you have to wonder if the writers saw this as a way to both end the season with gusto and get rid of what has become a troublesome character at the same time. (While she had ample reason to be suspicious of Dexter's activities, all Rita ever did was gripe at the poor guy. No offense to Julie Benz, who did what she could with a more or less thankless role.)
It was a thrilling end to Dexter’s fourth year, a season that grew increasingly schizoid as it went along, with Dex intent on taking tips from Trinity rather than killing him when he had several chances to do so, in turn putting himself at risk, never more so than when Trinity casually walked into the police station to formally meet the man who went from being a volunteer builder to a major thorn in his side. John Lithgow is a lock for an Emmy nod for his portrayal of Arthur Mitchell, quiet at the right moments, full of rage when necessary, a chilling and layered performance from an actor best known to this generation as the loud and zany Dick Solomon from 3rd Rock from the Sun.
And what of the episode’s final moments, wherein Dexter finds baby Harrison sitting in a pool of Rita’s blood as Rita herself lies lifeless in the bathtub? The moment was nothing short of Dexter’s worst nightmare come true, the realization that everything he touches is destined to be damaged and that fate has brought these events to bear. Given the show's timeline, it’s unfortunate that, without some kind of Desperate Housewives-esque leap ahead, we won’t get to see if this tragedy has the same effect on Harrison as it had on Dexter when he was young. Looking ahead to next season, though, it’ll certainly be interesting to watch Dexter juggle his own Dark Passenger while he wonders if one might also be growing inside his son.
It was a thrilling end to Dexter’s fourth year, a season that grew increasingly schizoid as it went along, with Dex intent on taking tips from Trinity rather than killing him when he had several chances to do so, in turn putting himself at risk, never more so than when Trinity casually walked into the police station to formally meet the man who went from being a volunteer builder to a major thorn in his side. John Lithgow is a lock for an Emmy nod for his portrayal of Arthur Mitchell, quiet at the right moments, full of rage when necessary, a chilling and layered performance from an actor best known to this generation as the loud and zany Dick Solomon from 3rd Rock from the Sun.
And what of the episode’s final moments, wherein Dexter finds baby Harrison sitting in a pool of Rita’s blood as Rita herself lies lifeless in the bathtub? The moment was nothing short of Dexter’s worst nightmare come true, the realization that everything he touches is destined to be damaged and that fate has brought these events to bear. Given the show's timeline, it’s unfortunate that, without some kind of Desperate Housewives-esque leap ahead, we won’t get to see if this tragedy has the same effect on Harrison as it had on Dexter when he was young. Looking ahead to next season, though, it’ll certainly be interesting to watch Dexter juggle his own Dark Passenger while he wonders if one might also be growing inside his son.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
House and Wilson: BFF; Gossip Girl, WTF?
House is almost always at its best when it strays from its formula, and while it didn’t entirely do that last night, at the very least it put that formula into someone else’s hands, namely Robert Sean Leonard’s underused and always appreciated Wilson. In charge of treating Tucker, an old friend and cancer survivor played by the equally welcome Joshua Malina (The West Wing), Wilson goes through many of the show’s usual diagnostic paces, thinking it’s one thing, treating for another, then finally settling on what’s really wrong and going at it full bore.
In this case, the best way for Wilson to treat an unresponsive cancer is to double down on the chemotherapy, an act that ends up destroying Tucker’s liver. Unable to find a matching donor and ever the pragmatist, Wilson donates part of his own liver, only to find that the friend he thought would reconnect with his broken family is instead returning to the arms of his trophy girlfriend. Would Wilson have made such a valiant gesture if he’d known going in that Tucker would do an about face? Knowing Wilson, he probably would have.
Leonard played Wilson’s decision with the perfect balance of the character's need to do this for his friend and his need to do it for himself. And Tucker wasn’t the only friend Wilson helped last night. In a move that is sure to bite him in the ass, he defended House’s honor—an oxymoron if ever there was one—by intentionally outbidding Cuddy on a condo, rationalizing it by saying, “She hurt my friend.” Whether this is a matter of misplaced anger or Wilson's attempt to grow a pair, something tells me this isn’t the last time a friend will be hurt this season on House.
There were more friendship troubles over on Gossip Girl, a show that I haven’t watched in well over a year but thought I would check out again as they offered up a belated Thanksgiving episode. One thing was immediately apparent: these spoiled kids may be another year older, but they most certainly have not gotten another year wiser. Still up to their bed-hopping, backstabbing ways, why these teenagers continue to commingle despite the fact that their feelings for each other are lukewarm at best is beyond me. (I’d say the ratio is about ¼ love, ¼ indifference, and ½ hatred, a perfectly healthy relationship recipe, don’thca think?)
I can’t really comment on everything that happened last night because I’m out of the loop on so much of it, but here are the basics: Serena’s having an affair with a way-too-young-looking Congressman, Dan’s in love with Vanessa, Lily’s been hiding an important letter from Serena, and maid Dorota is preggers. If any of that sounds interesting to you, you’re a stronger viewer than I am, because after seeing the preview for next week’s episode, I don’t think there’s a chance in hell I’ll be tuning back in again anytime soon.
The CW—not to mention the hundreds of magazine covers these admittedly attractive actors have appeared on—would have you believe that Gossip Girl is a huge hit. The cold reality is that the show barely attracts over two million viewers on a good week (closer to three mil once DVR playback is factored in, but still a flop by any measure, though it did win its time slot last night among its young female target demo). There is a way to make a soap opera without having nearly every character be unsympathetic and mean, dull and toothless, or some combination thereof; the original 90210 did it for a decade. Maybe if the writers veered even slightly in that direction, more people would be willing to spend their time enjoying a little Gossip.
In this case, the best way for Wilson to treat an unresponsive cancer is to double down on the chemotherapy, an act that ends up destroying Tucker’s liver. Unable to find a matching donor and ever the pragmatist, Wilson donates part of his own liver, only to find that the friend he thought would reconnect with his broken family is instead returning to the arms of his trophy girlfriend. Would Wilson have made such a valiant gesture if he’d known going in that Tucker would do an about face? Knowing Wilson, he probably would have.
Leonard played Wilson’s decision with the perfect balance of the character's need to do this for his friend and his need to do it for himself. And Tucker wasn’t the only friend Wilson helped last night. In a move that is sure to bite him in the ass, he defended House’s honor—an oxymoron if ever there was one—by intentionally outbidding Cuddy on a condo, rationalizing it by saying, “She hurt my friend.” Whether this is a matter of misplaced anger or Wilson's attempt to grow a pair, something tells me this isn’t the last time a friend will be hurt this season on House.
There were more friendship troubles over on Gossip Girl, a show that I haven’t watched in well over a year but thought I would check out again as they offered up a belated Thanksgiving episode. One thing was immediately apparent: these spoiled kids may be another year older, but they most certainly have not gotten another year wiser. Still up to their bed-hopping, backstabbing ways, why these teenagers continue to commingle despite the fact that their feelings for each other are lukewarm at best is beyond me. (I’d say the ratio is about ¼ love, ¼ indifference, and ½ hatred, a perfectly healthy relationship recipe, don’thca think?)
I can’t really comment on everything that happened last night because I’m out of the loop on so much of it, but here are the basics: Serena’s having an affair with a way-too-young-looking Congressman, Dan’s in love with Vanessa, Lily’s been hiding an important letter from Serena, and maid Dorota is preggers. If any of that sounds interesting to you, you’re a stronger viewer than I am, because after seeing the preview for next week’s episode, I don’t think there’s a chance in hell I’ll be tuning back in again anytime soon.
The CW—not to mention the hundreds of magazine covers these admittedly attractive actors have appeared on—would have you believe that Gossip Girl is a huge hit. The cold reality is that the show barely attracts over two million viewers on a good week (closer to three mil once DVR playback is factored in, but still a flop by any measure, though it did win its time slot last night among its young female target demo). There is a way to make a soap opera without having nearly every character be unsympathetic and mean, dull and toothless, or some combination thereof; the original 90210 did it for a decade. Maybe if the writers veered even slightly in that direction, more people would be willing to spend their time enjoying a little Gossip.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Giving Thanks to TV
My blog entry about Dexter from earlier in the week, in which I expressed my gratitude for the show’s existence, got me to thinking about other series that are equally deserving of a spoonful of love. So in the spirit of the holiday, I thought I would shine a light on six gems that mostly fly under the radar, overlooked in favor of their more publicized network cohorts.
Breaking Bad (returns March 2010, AMC)
Overshadowed by: Mad Men
Why I’m Thankful For It: Two words—Bryan Cranston. The former Malcolm in the Middle dad (and two-time Emmy winner) completely transforms himself in the role of Walt White, a high school chemistry teacher diagnosed with lung cancer who decides to provide for his family by cooking and selling crystal meth. This is the one show on TV that is guaranteed to surprise you each and every week. From Walt committing murder in the first season to the midair collision that rained down plane parts on Walt’s neighborhood in last year's finale, Breaking Bad represents the epitome of the phrase “leave them wanting more.”
Brothers & Sisters (Sundays, 10pm, ABC)
Overshadowed by: Desperate Housewives, Grey’s Anatomy
Why I’m Thankful For It: The current story line revolving around Kitty’s (Calista Flockhart) cancer diagnosis and treatment is rife with tragic optimism. Flockhart has been tremendous of late, capturing Kitty with a delicate combination of fear and hopefulness. Her scenes with mom Nora (Sally Field) in particular have been tearjerkers. Add to that a wonderful guest arc by Gilles Marini (from the Sex and the City movie) as Sarah’s French lover and you can forgive the show its frequent trips to Ojai Foods, the Walker family business that certainly has its share of drama, though it sometimes strains to be interesting.
Greek (returns January 25, 10pm, ABC Family)
Overshadowed by: The Secret Life of the American Teenager
Why I’m Thankful For It: One of the most flat-out fun shows on TV, Greek also has at its core an on-again/off-again relationship that surpasses Mer-Der. Casey (Spencer Grammer) and Cappie (Scott Michael Foster) are made for each other, but there’s so much temptation—not to mention future uncertainty—all around them on the Cyprus-Rhodes campus that it’s hard for them to stay together for too long. There's no reason to think that their current reconciliation, coming at a time when both will be forced to examine what their lives will be like after college ends, will be any smoother than their past attempts, but watching them try to sort it all out will still have the vicarious thrill of wanton youth.
The New Adventures of Old Christine (Wednesdays, 8pm, CBS)
Overshadowed by: The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother
Why I’m Thankful For It: If you’ve never seen Julia Louis-Dreyfus outside of Seinfeld’s Elaine, you’re missing out on a razor-sharp comic performance. Not all of Old Christine’s jokes hit (over the years, there have been way too many sexual punchlines hinging on the co-dependent relationship between Christine and her brother). Overall, though, the show has such a hangdog presence, you can’t help but laugh—and having Wanda Sykes in the cast doesn’t hurt. Old Christine is a throwback to a time when situation comedies put guffaws over self-conscious style.
Community (Thursdays, 8pm, NBC)
Overshadowed by: The Office, 30 Rock
Why I’m Thankful For It: With so many throwaway lines, Community is the kind of show that will pay dividends with repeat viewings. The cast is jelling nicely, with less emphasis now needed on Joel McHale’s Jeff to carry the show. That’s not to say that McHale isn’t still front and center; only that the writers have found more for the rest of the ensemble to do. How can you go wrong when Pierce (Chevy Chase) is tumbling over drum sets, Jeff and socially awkward Abed (Danny Pudi) move in together—if only temporarily, and Señor Chang (Ken Jeong) continues to terrorize his poor Spanish students? The simple answer is, you can’t.
The Good Wife (Tuesdays, 10pm, CBS)
Overshadowed by: NCIS, The Mentalist
Why I’m Thankful For It: The new hit drama nobody’s talking about (even though about 13 million people are watching), this already stellar legal drama is actually improving on its own quality. The best episode so far was the November 10 installment focusing on a personal injury case for which Julianna Margulies’s Alicia teamed up with a neighborhood lawyer to argue religious protection under the First Amendment. Margulies is understated yet powerful as a wronged woman using every ounce of goodness she can corral to stand by her adulterous, incarcerated husband.
If you’re not already watching these shows, do yourself a favor and check them out. But whether you choose to heed my advice or not, have a safe and happy Thanksgiving. And when you’re going around the table listing the things you’re grateful for, take just a second to acknowledge the mountains of entertainment we so often take for granted.
Breaking Bad (returns March 2010, AMC)
Overshadowed by: Mad Men
Why I’m Thankful For It: Two words—Bryan Cranston. The former Malcolm in the Middle dad (and two-time Emmy winner) completely transforms himself in the role of Walt White, a high school chemistry teacher diagnosed with lung cancer who decides to provide for his family by cooking and selling crystal meth. This is the one show on TV that is guaranteed to surprise you each and every week. From Walt committing murder in the first season to the midair collision that rained down plane parts on Walt’s neighborhood in last year's finale, Breaking Bad represents the epitome of the phrase “leave them wanting more.”
Brothers & Sisters (Sundays, 10pm, ABC)
Overshadowed by: Desperate Housewives, Grey’s Anatomy
Why I’m Thankful For It: The current story line revolving around Kitty’s (Calista Flockhart) cancer diagnosis and treatment is rife with tragic optimism. Flockhart has been tremendous of late, capturing Kitty with a delicate combination of fear and hopefulness. Her scenes with mom Nora (Sally Field) in particular have been tearjerkers. Add to that a wonderful guest arc by Gilles Marini (from the Sex and the City movie) as Sarah’s French lover and you can forgive the show its frequent trips to Ojai Foods, the Walker family business that certainly has its share of drama, though it sometimes strains to be interesting.
Greek (returns January 25, 10pm, ABC Family)
Overshadowed by: The Secret Life of the American Teenager
Why I’m Thankful For It: One of the most flat-out fun shows on TV, Greek also has at its core an on-again/off-again relationship that surpasses Mer-Der. Casey (Spencer Grammer) and Cappie (Scott Michael Foster) are made for each other, but there’s so much temptation—not to mention future uncertainty—all around them on the Cyprus-Rhodes campus that it’s hard for them to stay together for too long. There's no reason to think that their current reconciliation, coming at a time when both will be forced to examine what their lives will be like after college ends, will be any smoother than their past attempts, but watching them try to sort it all out will still have the vicarious thrill of wanton youth.
The New Adventures of Old Christine (Wednesdays, 8pm, CBS)
Overshadowed by: The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother
Why I’m Thankful For It: If you’ve never seen Julia Louis-Dreyfus outside of Seinfeld’s Elaine, you’re missing out on a razor-sharp comic performance. Not all of Old Christine’s jokes hit (over the years, there have been way too many sexual punchlines hinging on the co-dependent relationship between Christine and her brother). Overall, though, the show has such a hangdog presence, you can’t help but laugh—and having Wanda Sykes in the cast doesn’t hurt. Old Christine is a throwback to a time when situation comedies put guffaws over self-conscious style.
Community (Thursdays, 8pm, NBC)
Overshadowed by: The Office, 30 Rock
Why I’m Thankful For It: With so many throwaway lines, Community is the kind of show that will pay dividends with repeat viewings. The cast is jelling nicely, with less emphasis now needed on Joel McHale’s Jeff to carry the show. That’s not to say that McHale isn’t still front and center; only that the writers have found more for the rest of the ensemble to do. How can you go wrong when Pierce (Chevy Chase) is tumbling over drum sets, Jeff and socially awkward Abed (Danny Pudi) move in together—if only temporarily, and Señor Chang (Ken Jeong) continues to terrorize his poor Spanish students? The simple answer is, you can’t.
The Good Wife (Tuesdays, 10pm, CBS)
Overshadowed by: NCIS, The Mentalist
Why I’m Thankful For It: The new hit drama nobody’s talking about (even though about 13 million people are watching), this already stellar legal drama is actually improving on its own quality. The best episode so far was the November 10 installment focusing on a personal injury case for which Julianna Margulies’s Alicia teamed up with a neighborhood lawyer to argue religious protection under the First Amendment. Margulies is understated yet powerful as a wronged woman using every ounce of goodness she can corral to stand by her adulterous, incarcerated husband.
If you’re not already watching these shows, do yourself a favor and check them out. But whether you choose to heed my advice or not, have a safe and happy Thanksgiving. And when you’re going around the table listing the things you’re grateful for, take just a second to acknowledge the mountains of entertainment we so often take for granted.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Dexter's Killer Meal
Time and again, we’ve seen Thanksgiving used as a backdrop for bringing up all the dysfunction that lays dormant in a family. But how many of those holiday meals have culminated in one serial killer being strangled with the belt of another? So it was on Showtime's Dexter last night, where Turkey Day was about as messed up as it could get.
Worried about the rage he’s seen bubbling under the surface of Arthur Mitchell’s (John Lithgow)—aka the Trinity Killer—home life, Dexter insinuates himself into the family’s Thanksgiving plans, at the cost of spending less time at his own home, where wife Rita (Julie Benz) is being hit on by a neighbor and sister Deb (Jennifer Carpenter, doing better work than ever this season) is still grappling with the loss of her lover and the fallout from being shot herself. Dex originally thought he had something to learn from Arthur, who seemed to mirror Dexter’s own outwardly idyllic existence while harboring dark secrets to which the world is oblivious. It didn’t take long for Dex to figure out that Arthur is actually very different from him, an abusive husband and father willing to lock his daughter in her room and break his son’s finger if it means proving who’s boss. The moral quandary that Dexter has always presented—how do you feel sympathy for a killer?—is amplified here as we get a glimpse of the monster that Dex could easily have devolved into were it not for the code he was taught by his father Harry.
Everything comes to a head when Arthur is rejected at the dinner table, none of his brood bothering to say they’re thankful for him. Son Jonah erupts, smashing his father's prized urn, and is then hunted down by Arthur, prompting Dexter to react. He drags Arthur into the kitchen, belt around neck, butcher knife in hand, stopping only when he remembers that this is not how his work is done. Few moments on the show have ever been more heartpoundingly terrifying, perhaps no death more deserved, and yet you know it can’t happen like this, with Arthur's family registering a hint of relief under their horror. Arthur Mitchell will get his comeuppance, but is has to be on Dexter’s terms.
Arriving home from this nightmarish scenario to be with his own family, Dexter tries to avoid having anyone give thanks. Ineffectual, young Cody quickly chirps, “I’m thankful for Dexter,” a sentiment that I couldn’t help but second, especially after the episode-ending revelation that the female reporter Deb now suspects is the one who shot her is also the Trinity Killer’s daughter. Boy, am I ever thankful for Dexter.
Worried about the rage he’s seen bubbling under the surface of Arthur Mitchell’s (John Lithgow)—aka the Trinity Killer—home life, Dexter insinuates himself into the family’s Thanksgiving plans, at the cost of spending less time at his own home, where wife Rita (Julie Benz) is being hit on by a neighbor and sister Deb (Jennifer Carpenter, doing better work than ever this season) is still grappling with the loss of her lover and the fallout from being shot herself. Dex originally thought he had something to learn from Arthur, who seemed to mirror Dexter’s own outwardly idyllic existence while harboring dark secrets to which the world is oblivious. It didn’t take long for Dex to figure out that Arthur is actually very different from him, an abusive husband and father willing to lock his daughter in her room and break his son’s finger if it means proving who’s boss. The moral quandary that Dexter has always presented—how do you feel sympathy for a killer?—is amplified here as we get a glimpse of the monster that Dex could easily have devolved into were it not for the code he was taught by his father Harry.
Everything comes to a head when Arthur is rejected at the dinner table, none of his brood bothering to say they’re thankful for him. Son Jonah erupts, smashing his father's prized urn, and is then hunted down by Arthur, prompting Dexter to react. He drags Arthur into the kitchen, belt around neck, butcher knife in hand, stopping only when he remembers that this is not how his work is done. Few moments on the show have ever been more heartpoundingly terrifying, perhaps no death more deserved, and yet you know it can’t happen like this, with Arthur's family registering a hint of relief under their horror. Arthur Mitchell will get his comeuppance, but is has to be on Dexter’s terms.
Arriving home from this nightmarish scenario to be with his own family, Dexter tries to avoid having anyone give thanks. Ineffectual, young Cody quickly chirps, “I’m thankful for Dexter,” a sentiment that I couldn’t help but second, especially after the episode-ending revelation that the female reporter Deb now suspects is the one who shot her is also the Trinity Killer’s daughter. Boy, am I ever thankful for Dexter.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Texas Forever
In a rare case of fixing what wasn’t broken and actually making it better, my beloved Friday Night Lights, now full swing into season four, has as part of its dramatic restructuring done something that few shows are capable of: adding characters who are so instantly vital and well-drawn that it’s difficult to imagine they haven’t been there along.
Last night’s episode was a showcase for the three fresh faces introduced over the past few weeks. Troublemaker Vince (Michael B. Jordan) stole recent East Dillon Lions transplant Luke’s (Matt Lauria) wallet, leading to roadside fisticuffs being broken up by the police. With Vince about to be carted off to juvie, it was Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler) to the rescue, having Luke take the fall to avoid punishment, then dropping both of them off far from home and making them walk back together as they develop a better understanding of how to be civil. It might seem cliché for two guys to bond over fighting, but because FNL does it in such a subdued fashion, it doesn’t feel the least bit pedestrian. Both Vince and Luke carry a lot of weight on the Lions squad, so a mutual respect between the two will no doubt go a long way toward boosting the entire team's morale, maybe even getting them a little bit closer to scoring their first win (something that will also be aided by the effort Coach Taylor put into organizing a pep rally).
Meanwhile, Jess (Jurnee Smollett) is making Vince jealous by flirting with Landry (Jesse Plemons), which flirtation is sealed with a kiss by episode’s end. One of the things that FNL has always done so well is capture the interplay between men and women in the most natural manner possible; it never seems strained or contrived, and Landry and Jess are another shining example of this.
The episode was capped by the news that Matt’s (Zach Gilford) military father had been killed in combat, with The 101 Network’s promo promising that the next installment (airing December 2 after a week off for Thanksgiving) will be “the most powerful episode ever.” Anyone who’s been a loyal viewer of this magnificent show over the years knows that, in the world of Dillon, Texas, that’s saying an awful lot.
Last night’s episode was a showcase for the three fresh faces introduced over the past few weeks. Troublemaker Vince (Michael B. Jordan) stole recent East Dillon Lions transplant Luke’s (Matt Lauria) wallet, leading to roadside fisticuffs being broken up by the police. With Vince about to be carted off to juvie, it was Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler) to the rescue, having Luke take the fall to avoid punishment, then dropping both of them off far from home and making them walk back together as they develop a better understanding of how to be civil. It might seem cliché for two guys to bond over fighting, but because FNL does it in such a subdued fashion, it doesn’t feel the least bit pedestrian. Both Vince and Luke carry a lot of weight on the Lions squad, so a mutual respect between the two will no doubt go a long way toward boosting the entire team's morale, maybe even getting them a little bit closer to scoring their first win (something that will also be aided by the effort Coach Taylor put into organizing a pep rally).
Meanwhile, Jess (Jurnee Smollett) is making Vince jealous by flirting with Landry (Jesse Plemons), which flirtation is sealed with a kiss by episode’s end. One of the things that FNL has always done so well is capture the interplay between men and women in the most natural manner possible; it never seems strained or contrived, and Landry and Jess are another shining example of this.
The episode was capped by the news that Matt’s (Zach Gilford) military father had been killed in combat, with The 101 Network’s promo promising that the next installment (airing December 2 after a week off for Thanksgiving) will be “the most powerful episode ever.” Anyone who’s been a loyal viewer of this magnificent show over the years knows that, in the world of Dillon, Texas, that’s saying an awful lot.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Glee: The Kids Are All Right
For this week at least, Glee rebounded from a recent string of increasingly silly plot maneuvers to focus on the reason it exists in the first place: the glee club. Having taken an unfortunate backseat to some truly ridiculous story lines involving the school faculty, the kids were once again in the spotlight in last night’s wonderful “Wheels” episode.
We didn’t have to sit through the nonsense that is Emma and Ken’s sham of a wedding or Will and Terri’s non-baby drama, and, most merciful of all, we weren’t subjected to another rap rendition by Matthew Morrison’s Will, who is growing more obnoxiously smug each week. (Did we really need to see him sing “Bust a Move” and “The Thong Song” in the last episode?) What we got instead was a terrific wheelchair-bound performance of “Proud Mary,” a worried Quinn (Dianna Agron) putting pressure on Finn (Cory Monteith) to help with her medical bills, and Sue Sylvester (the incomparable Jane Lynch) showing compassion for a student named Becky, who suffers from Down’s Syndrome. In a quiet but powerful revelation, we learn that Sue has a sister with Down’s, and the short scene the two shared during Sue’s visit to an assisted living facility was one of the surly cheerleading coach’s most human moments. This plot strand also provided Sue with the best line of the night, when Becky complained that Sue was pushing her too hard: “Try auditioning for Baywatch and being told they’re going in another direction. That’s hard.”
Sue didn’t provide the episode’s only heartfelt moment, though. There was some great stuff going on between freshly out Kurt (Chris Colfer) and his unexpectedly understanding dad Burt, played with such kindness by Mike O’Malley. Kurt’s sexuality isn’t Burt’s favorite thing, but that’s his kid, damn it, and nobody’s gonna keep him down. Burt sticks up for Kurt even when it means putting up with anonymous phone calls calling his son a fag. Colfer and O’Malley do a nice job of feeling each other out, a delicate father-son balancing act that produces some of Glee’s most touching scenes. If the show can keep delivering the way it did last night, the early potential that seemed destined to be squandered in desperate fits of absurdity may just be realized in all its glory.
We didn’t have to sit through the nonsense that is Emma and Ken’s sham of a wedding or Will and Terri’s non-baby drama, and, most merciful of all, we weren’t subjected to another rap rendition by Matthew Morrison’s Will, who is growing more obnoxiously smug each week. (Did we really need to see him sing “Bust a Move” and “The Thong Song” in the last episode?) What we got instead was a terrific wheelchair-bound performance of “Proud Mary,” a worried Quinn (Dianna Agron) putting pressure on Finn (Cory Monteith) to help with her medical bills, and Sue Sylvester (the incomparable Jane Lynch) showing compassion for a student named Becky, who suffers from Down’s Syndrome. In a quiet but powerful revelation, we learn that Sue has a sister with Down’s, and the short scene the two shared during Sue’s visit to an assisted living facility was one of the surly cheerleading coach’s most human moments. This plot strand also provided Sue with the best line of the night, when Becky complained that Sue was pushing her too hard: “Try auditioning for Baywatch and being told they’re going in another direction. That’s hard.”
Sue didn’t provide the episode’s only heartfelt moment, though. There was some great stuff going on between freshly out Kurt (Chris Colfer) and his unexpectedly understanding dad Burt, played with such kindness by Mike O’Malley. Kurt’s sexuality isn’t Burt’s favorite thing, but that’s his kid, damn it, and nobody’s gonna keep him down. Burt sticks up for Kurt even when it means putting up with anonymous phone calls calling his son a fag. Colfer and O’Malley do a nice job of feeling each other out, a delicate father-son balancing act that produces some of Glee’s most touching scenes. If the show can keep delivering the way it did last night, the early potential that seemed destined to be squandered in desperate fits of absurdity may just be realized in all its glory.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
V is for Vexing
I was seven years old when the second V miniseries aired on NBC and I can remember going to school the next day not being able to get the image of an alien lizard baby out of my head. That kind of nostalgia had me particularly excited for ABC’s remake of this seminal sci-fi event. It is with a heavy heart that I report that the new series, which is airing four episodes during the November sweep before returning to finish its first season in the spring, is leaden, ultra-serious, and borderline dull.
Now, I’m not quite ready to write the show off just yet, but if things don’t pick up by the end of this four-episode introductory period, the likelihood of my coming back later on will be minuscule. For the uninitiated, V starts with the appearance of a series of spaceships hovering over major cities across the globe, from Paris to Rio de Janiero to Los Angeles to New York, which is where most of the action takes place. Or rather doesn’t, because so far there’s been very little action (more on that later). On board these vessels are Visitors, or Vs, a human-looking alien species with a hidden lizard core who claim to want a fair exchange: we give them some of our water and minerals, they share with us their advanced technology.
The Vs’ duplicitous mantra—“We are of peace, always”—charms some, while others simply aren’t willing to buy into their message, and herein lies one of the show’s biggest problems. Too many people are way too accepting of this sudden unearthly manifestation. The general population doesn’t seem all that concerned by the fact that giant spaceships have arrived. There are a few protests here and there, people carrying picket signs and whatnot, but nobody looks to be overly unnerved or scared by the Vs presence. Hell, the Visitors are even offering tours of their ships and people are more than willing to go, no questions asked. With no indication of brainwashing, this just doesn’t seem all that plausible, especially in post-9/11 New York (and, yes, I realize I just chided the plausibility of an alien invasion story).
Perhaps the whole enterprise would be less quizzical if the actors were capable of selling it better. Lost’s Elizabeth Mitchell is FBI agent Erica Evans, who has just discovered that her partner of seven years is really a V, meaning they’ve actually been living among us for some time. Mitchell is unconvincing at playing FBI, but at least she’s able to display some emotion. That’s more than can be said for the rest of the cast, which also includes The Nine’s Lourdes Benedicto, and Joel Gretsch from The 4400, many of whom are too stiff to evoke any real feeling. While this makes sense for the Vs, who are only pretending to be human—their leader is Firefly’s Morena Baccarin—why are so many others walking around listless and sapped of energy? Scott Wolf (Party of Five) is a saving grace as a slick TV newsman interested in using the Vs to advance his career; if only the show spent more time on his quandary between moral obligation and journalistic necessity.
In general, I don’t have much patience for sci-fi product that is nothing more than a series of action pieces strung together without a story. Yet I find myself longing for some of that in this new version of V. The excitement that should be inherent in this kind of story is being superseded by a talky, almost cheesy show that does nothing to replace my affection for the ‘80s original. Judging from the second week’s ratings, I’m not alone in this assessment; the show lost nearly four million viewers from its premiere, still enough to be considered an early success but an alarming dropoff, especially for a show that’s going to be taking a three-month hiatus. Only time will tell whether these Visitors are here to stay.
Now, I’m not quite ready to write the show off just yet, but if things don’t pick up by the end of this four-episode introductory period, the likelihood of my coming back later on will be minuscule. For the uninitiated, V starts with the appearance of a series of spaceships hovering over major cities across the globe, from Paris to Rio de Janiero to Los Angeles to New York, which is where most of the action takes place. Or rather doesn’t, because so far there’s been very little action (more on that later). On board these vessels are Visitors, or Vs, a human-looking alien species with a hidden lizard core who claim to want a fair exchange: we give them some of our water and minerals, they share with us their advanced technology.
The Vs’ duplicitous mantra—“We are of peace, always”—charms some, while others simply aren’t willing to buy into their message, and herein lies one of the show’s biggest problems. Too many people are way too accepting of this sudden unearthly manifestation. The general population doesn’t seem all that concerned by the fact that giant spaceships have arrived. There are a few protests here and there, people carrying picket signs and whatnot, but nobody looks to be overly unnerved or scared by the Vs presence. Hell, the Visitors are even offering tours of their ships and people are more than willing to go, no questions asked. With no indication of brainwashing, this just doesn’t seem all that plausible, especially in post-9/11 New York (and, yes, I realize I just chided the plausibility of an alien invasion story).
Perhaps the whole enterprise would be less quizzical if the actors were capable of selling it better. Lost’s Elizabeth Mitchell is FBI agent Erica Evans, who has just discovered that her partner of seven years is really a V, meaning they’ve actually been living among us for some time. Mitchell is unconvincing at playing FBI, but at least she’s able to display some emotion. That’s more than can be said for the rest of the cast, which also includes The Nine’s Lourdes Benedicto, and Joel Gretsch from The 4400, many of whom are too stiff to evoke any real feeling. While this makes sense for the Vs, who are only pretending to be human—their leader is Firefly’s Morena Baccarin—why are so many others walking around listless and sapped of energy? Scott Wolf (Party of Five) is a saving grace as a slick TV newsman interested in using the Vs to advance his career; if only the show spent more time on his quandary between moral obligation and journalistic necessity.
In general, I don’t have much patience for sci-fi product that is nothing more than a series of action pieces strung together without a story. Yet I find myself longing for some of that in this new version of V. The excitement that should be inherent in this kind of story is being superseded by a talky, almost cheesy show that does nothing to replace my affection for the ‘80s original. Judging from the second week’s ratings, I’m not alone in this assessment; the show lost nearly four million viewers from its premiere, still enough to be considered an early success but an alarming dropoff, especially for a show that’s going to be taking a three-month hiatus. Only time will tell whether these Visitors are here to stay.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
We Need to Talk (Or Do We?)
Falling under the heading of “just what we needed,” two new late night talk shows made their debuts this week. First up was Fox’s The Wanda Sykes Show (Saturdays, 11pm), a marked improvement over the show it replaces, the self-satisfied and laugh-free Talkshow with Spike Feresten. And while better is, well, better, don’t look for Sykes to pose any kind of threat to Saturday Night Live anytime soon, even though her premiere ratings were literally 100% higher than Feresten’s numbers last season.
From the first episode, it appears that Sykes’s stock in trade is going to be political humor. It’s nice to see that she’s not being asked to steer clear of harping on her corporate brethren over at Fox News—she and those conservative pundits certainly don’t see eye-to-eye—but a full nine minutes of politics in her opening monologue grew tiresome, mainly because none of it was all that funny, a shame given how gifted a comedian Sykes really is. Things perked up a bit during the “Wandarama” segment, her attempt at a “Weekend Update”-type newscall, which was capped by a bit about recycling sex toys and had more uses of the word “dildo” than I think I’ve ever heard on network television.
What about the guests, you ask? This week's trio—Amazing Race host Phil Keoghan, 24's Mary Lynn Rajskub, and Daryl "Chill" Mitchell from Brothers—showed up during a panel discussion at “Wanda’s Bar,” where topics included spanking children and a space hotel set for 2012 (according to the new movie, won't we be in the middle of an apocalypse by then?), all served up with a smart cocktail. This format has been done on Chelsea Lately for years (minus the on-camera booze), but it’s nice to get away from celeb appearances where all they want to do is plug their latest project; here they have to engage in talk about current events. Sykes herself has said that she’s not trying to reinvent the talk show, and that lack of inventiveness in itself is surprisingly refreshing. More than anything, though, The Wanda Sykes Show benefits from the looseness of its star. Sykes is clearly having a good time (can you say that about Letterman?), doesn’t seem nervous in the slightest (hello, Jimmy Fallon), and is comfortable enough in her own skin to make her audience sit back and relax.
George Lopez, on the other hand, seems to want his audience to be anything but relaxed. He’s got an ebullient crowd with him in the studio and spent much of last night’s debut of Lopez Tonight (TBS, Monday-Thursday, 11pm) trying to yell over them, though he was still using his outside voice even when interviewing his guests, if you call letting Eva Longoria Parker talk about how she got a year’s supply of M&Ms an interview.
If Sykes’s hot-button topic of choice is politics, Lopez’s is race. That makes for an edgier monologue than Leno would ever deliver, but I can’t shake the feeling that Lopez is pandering to a segment of the population he thinks wouldn’t get the joke if he dared to give them something smarter. (Here’s a sample punchline re: the slogan for 50 Cent’s fragrance: “Manly, yes, but the bitches like it, too.”) It’s one thing to be able to make ethnocentric jokes, and another thing altogether to dumb yourself down for it. Like Sykes, Lopez isn’t trying anything groundbreaking with the format of his show. And also like Sykes, who is the first black woman to host a late night network talk show, sometimes simply being a groundbreaking individual (Lopez is the first Latino to host a late night show) can be enough. But I wouldn’t fault either of them if they brought a little more funny to the proceedings.
Definitely delivering the comedy goods last night was CBS’s How I Met Your Mother. What do you get when you put Alan Thicke, a Storm Trooper, a guy dressed as the Lost in Space robot, a porno called “Archisexture,” and a ballooning Neil Patrick Harris together? Easily one of the funniest episodes of the season, that’s what.
After realizing that Robin and Barney are miserable as a couple, Ted, Marshall, and Lily set out to break them up by culling things that would remind them of their biggest fights. They needn’t have gone to so much trouble, though, as Robin and Barney—whose relationship has turned them ugly and fat, respectively—see their sorry reflections in a restaurant window and decide that this just isn’t working for them. It’s sad that something Barney spent the majority of last season pining for ultimately didn’t work out, but how great will it be to have the merry womanizer back to his old tricks? Thankfully, since he and Robin are “back together as friends,” there’s no damage to the core quintet. The best thing to come out of the episode, however, is the promise of another Robin Sparkles video. If you haven’t seen the hilarious video for “Let’s Go To the Mall,” click here and soak up the kitschy goodness that is undoubtedly one of Mother’s series highpoints.
From the first episode, it appears that Sykes’s stock in trade is going to be political humor. It’s nice to see that she’s not being asked to steer clear of harping on her corporate brethren over at Fox News—she and those conservative pundits certainly don’t see eye-to-eye—but a full nine minutes of politics in her opening monologue grew tiresome, mainly because none of it was all that funny, a shame given how gifted a comedian Sykes really is. Things perked up a bit during the “Wandarama” segment, her attempt at a “Weekend Update”-type newscall, which was capped by a bit about recycling sex toys and had more uses of the word “dildo” than I think I’ve ever heard on network television.
What about the guests, you ask? This week's trio—Amazing Race host Phil Keoghan, 24's Mary Lynn Rajskub, and Daryl "Chill" Mitchell from Brothers—showed up during a panel discussion at “Wanda’s Bar,” where topics included spanking children and a space hotel set for 2012 (according to the new movie, won't we be in the middle of an apocalypse by then?), all served up with a smart cocktail. This format has been done on Chelsea Lately for years (minus the on-camera booze), but it’s nice to get away from celeb appearances where all they want to do is plug their latest project; here they have to engage in talk about current events. Sykes herself has said that she’s not trying to reinvent the talk show, and that lack of inventiveness in itself is surprisingly refreshing. More than anything, though, The Wanda Sykes Show benefits from the looseness of its star. Sykes is clearly having a good time (can you say that about Letterman?), doesn’t seem nervous in the slightest (hello, Jimmy Fallon), and is comfortable enough in her own skin to make her audience sit back and relax.
George Lopez, on the other hand, seems to want his audience to be anything but relaxed. He’s got an ebullient crowd with him in the studio and spent much of last night’s debut of Lopez Tonight (TBS, Monday-Thursday, 11pm) trying to yell over them, though he was still using his outside voice even when interviewing his guests, if you call letting Eva Longoria Parker talk about how she got a year’s supply of M&Ms an interview.
If Sykes’s hot-button topic of choice is politics, Lopez’s is race. That makes for an edgier monologue than Leno would ever deliver, but I can’t shake the feeling that Lopez is pandering to a segment of the population he thinks wouldn’t get the joke if he dared to give them something smarter. (Here’s a sample punchline re: the slogan for 50 Cent’s fragrance: “Manly, yes, but the bitches like it, too.”) It’s one thing to be able to make ethnocentric jokes, and another thing altogether to dumb yourself down for it. Like Sykes, Lopez isn’t trying anything groundbreaking with the format of his show. And also like Sykes, who is the first black woman to host a late night network talk show, sometimes simply being a groundbreaking individual (Lopez is the first Latino to host a late night show) can be enough. But I wouldn’t fault either of them if they brought a little more funny to the proceedings.
Definitely delivering the comedy goods last night was CBS’s How I Met Your Mother. What do you get when you put Alan Thicke, a Storm Trooper, a guy dressed as the Lost in Space robot, a porno called “Archisexture,” and a ballooning Neil Patrick Harris together? Easily one of the funniest episodes of the season, that’s what.
After realizing that Robin and Barney are miserable as a couple, Ted, Marshall, and Lily set out to break them up by culling things that would remind them of their biggest fights. They needn’t have gone to so much trouble, though, as Robin and Barney—whose relationship has turned them ugly and fat, respectively—see their sorry reflections in a restaurant window and decide that this just isn’t working for them. It’s sad that something Barney spent the majority of last season pining for ultimately didn’t work out, but how great will it be to have the merry womanizer back to his old tricks? Thankfully, since he and Robin are “back together as friends,” there’s no damage to the core quintet. The best thing to come out of the episode, however, is the promise of another Robin Sparkles video. If you haven’t seen the hilarious video for “Let’s Go To the Mall,” click here and soak up the kitschy goodness that is undoubtedly one of Mother’s series highpoints.
Friday, November 6, 2009
White Collar Needs More Color
Just like most of USA’s other original series—Monk, Psych, Royal Pains, Burn Notice—new entry White Collar (Fridays, 10pm) is three parts case-of-the-week, one part lighthearted romp, with a minor dollop of character on top in an attempt to keep things from getting too stale. Like those other shows, though, White Collar is also about as disposable as a paper towel, leaving viewers with no compelling reason to come back for more.
Sure, Matt Bomer (Chuck) works his good looks and natural charm for all they’re worth as Neal Caffrey, a white collar criminal who escapes from prison only to find himself strapped with an ankle bracelet and working as a consultant for the FBI in exchange for not going back behind bars. And Tim DeKay, who, in addition to a lead role on HBO’s short-lived marital drama Tell Me You Love Me, has guest-starred on everything from Seinfeld to The Practice to NCIS, holds a nice middle ground between loose and uptight as Neal’s captor and FBI handler, Peter Burke.
But as with so many shows that rely on this format, there’s no there there. Neal and Peter run around New York, using Neal’s inside intel and Peter’s law enforcement skills to catch forgers and counterfeiters. They banter with an easy chemistry (far better than that between DeKay and Tiffani Theissen, who plays his somewhat neglected wife), manage to get their man in the end, and, as ever, we get to watch them do it all over again next week. Where’s the substance? Unfortunately, there isn't much of it on display, but there are hints of a better show lurking in here somewhere: Diahann Carroll showed up in the pilot as a wealthy widow who gave Neal a place to stay, Willie Garson (Sex and the City) is an intriguing presence as an old friend of Neal’s, and there’s an ongoing story line involving Neal’s ex-girlfriend and his obsession with finding her. More time allocated to any of these things would be a welcome break from the crime aspect (two episodes in, I'm already bored with white collar crime).
There’s an irony to the fact that USA’s slogan is “Characters Welcome,” and yet the network seems to keep churning out the same show in different locales, ultimately putting character on the back burner to solving some kind of mystery. (To its credit, the network does allow its shows to spotlight their locations nicely, for example, the Hamptons in Royal Pains and Albuquerque in In Plain Sight.) How about giving us a show that actually puts character first and plot second? I’m not talking about some guy with a lot of quirks like Monk has, either; tics don’t equal character. I’m talking about an honest-to-God person, someone we can all relate to and care about, someone who doesn’t have to flash a badge or carry a gun to make themselves seem more interesting than they really are.
Sure, Matt Bomer (Chuck) works his good looks and natural charm for all they’re worth as Neal Caffrey, a white collar criminal who escapes from prison only to find himself strapped with an ankle bracelet and working as a consultant for the FBI in exchange for not going back behind bars. And Tim DeKay, who, in addition to a lead role on HBO’s short-lived marital drama Tell Me You Love Me, has guest-starred on everything from Seinfeld to The Practice to NCIS, holds a nice middle ground between loose and uptight as Neal’s captor and FBI handler, Peter Burke.
But as with so many shows that rely on this format, there’s no there there. Neal and Peter run around New York, using Neal’s inside intel and Peter’s law enforcement skills to catch forgers and counterfeiters. They banter with an easy chemistry (far better than that between DeKay and Tiffani Theissen, who plays his somewhat neglected wife), manage to get their man in the end, and, as ever, we get to watch them do it all over again next week. Where’s the substance? Unfortunately, there isn't much of it on display, but there are hints of a better show lurking in here somewhere: Diahann Carroll showed up in the pilot as a wealthy widow who gave Neal a place to stay, Willie Garson (Sex and the City) is an intriguing presence as an old friend of Neal’s, and there’s an ongoing story line involving Neal’s ex-girlfriend and his obsession with finding her. More time allocated to any of these things would be a welcome break from the crime aspect (two episodes in, I'm already bored with white collar crime).
There’s an irony to the fact that USA’s slogan is “Characters Welcome,” and yet the network seems to keep churning out the same show in different locales, ultimately putting character on the back burner to solving some kind of mystery. (To its credit, the network does allow its shows to spotlight their locations nicely, for example, the Hamptons in Royal Pains and Albuquerque in In Plain Sight.) How about giving us a show that actually puts character first and plot second? I’m not talking about some guy with a lot of quirks like Monk has, either; tics don’t equal character. I’m talking about an honest-to-God person, someone we can all relate to and care about, someone who doesn’t have to flash a badge or carry a gun to make themselves seem more interesting than they really are.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Dance: The Good, the Bad and the Ugh-ly
Certainly a mistake from a ratings standpoint, it’s still too early to say whether this first-ever fall edition of Fox’s So You Think You Can Dance was a good idea or not. In last Monday’s pre-competition introduction to this season’s top 20, the dancers were grouped according to their areas of specialty and, boy, what a show that was, truly some of the best dancing I’ve ever seen. In the two performance shows since then, however, the results have been hit or miss. And with this show being so much about breaking dancers out of their comfort zones, it would appear that many of this season’s contestants have some tough work ahead of them.
Suffering the most so far have been the ballroom routines, particularly last night’s clunky samba, performed by the sunshiny Channing and the now eliminated Phillip, a tap dancer who, in my opinion, didn’t have what it took to make the top 20 in the first place; and a Viennese waltz from Ashleigh and Jakob that was more sleepy than romantic. Things ended on a high note, though, when Ryan and Ellenore took the stage for an Argentine tango, with Ellenore not missing a step even as her dress was caught on her heel for nearly half the dance.
Where SYTYCD always excels is in the worlds of jazz and contemporary dance, which allow for a greater emphasis on artistic expression and less scrutiny of posture and toe pointing. The standout last night was a breathtaking contemporary routine from choreographer Stacey Tookey, danced brilliantly by early frontrunners Kathryn and Legacy, a b-boy completely out of his element; the way these two contorted and entwined their bodies was truly something to behold. Also interesting was a jazz number from the wonderfully warped and imaginative mind of Wade Robson. Dancers Peter and Pauline were given the characters of two people seeking revenge on Van Gogh after being excised from his original version of “Starry Night,” an inventive idea that went further in concept than it did in execution. And I can’t forget to mention another terrific Bollywood routine performed with the utmost confidence and maturity by the show’s youngest pairing, Mollee and Nathan.
The judges took a risk this season and invited three tappers to be in the top 20 (previously none had made it that far). Unfortunately, that risk didn’t pay off, and two of them, the aforementioned Phillip, along with Bianca—who couldn’t get a rise out of the judges with a gospel-inspired Broadway number—were sent home. With any luck, the remaining dancers will find themselves growing and improving their skills. That is the whole point of the show after all; it just may take a little longer than usual to get there. While fewer viewers are devoting their time to the show than they do in the less competitive summer months, So You Think You Can Dance continues to be an exciting showcase for an art form that has seen a truly worthy renaissance.
Suffering the most so far have been the ballroom routines, particularly last night’s clunky samba, performed by the sunshiny Channing and the now eliminated Phillip, a tap dancer who, in my opinion, didn’t have what it took to make the top 20 in the first place; and a Viennese waltz from Ashleigh and Jakob that was more sleepy than romantic. Things ended on a high note, though, when Ryan and Ellenore took the stage for an Argentine tango, with Ellenore not missing a step even as her dress was caught on her heel for nearly half the dance.
Where SYTYCD always excels is in the worlds of jazz and contemporary dance, which allow for a greater emphasis on artistic expression and less scrutiny of posture and toe pointing. The standout last night was a breathtaking contemporary routine from choreographer Stacey Tookey, danced brilliantly by early frontrunners Kathryn and Legacy, a b-boy completely out of his element; the way these two contorted and entwined their bodies was truly something to behold. Also interesting was a jazz number from the wonderfully warped and imaginative mind of Wade Robson. Dancers Peter and Pauline were given the characters of two people seeking revenge on Van Gogh after being excised from his original version of “Starry Night,” an inventive idea that went further in concept than it did in execution. And I can’t forget to mention another terrific Bollywood routine performed with the utmost confidence and maturity by the show’s youngest pairing, Mollee and Nathan.
The judges took a risk this season and invited three tappers to be in the top 20 (previously none had made it that far). Unfortunately, that risk didn’t pay off, and two of them, the aforementioned Phillip, along with Bianca—who couldn’t get a rise out of the judges with a gospel-inspired Broadway number—were sent home. With any luck, the remaining dancers will find themselves growing and improving their skills. That is the whole point of the show after all; it just may take a little longer than usual to get there. While fewer viewers are devoting their time to the show than they do in the less competitive summer months, So You Think You Can Dance continues to be an exciting showcase for an art form that has seen a truly worthy renaissance.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Back Under the Lights
Exclusive as it is to DirecTV—at least until NBC airs it months from now—I had to miss the official season premiere of my beloved Friday Night Lights this past Wednesday because my satellite service has been down most of the week (somehow the dish got out of alignment). Luckily, I got it back yesterday and was able to catch The 101 Network’s encore of the premiere, a sort of rebirth for the show as it continues to defy television trends and does what so few are capable of doing: let its characters dictate the story.
Probably stemming from the fact that it has always been an underdog forced to fight for its spot on the schedule, Friday Night Lights embraces change brilliantly, from letting its characters move on gracefully when needed (last year it was Smash and Jason who got heartfelt sendoffs, this year Saracen, Tyra, and Lyla will get the same treatment) to giving those who are staying put tough decisions to make. Mistakes are plentiful in Dillon, Texas, as are triumphs, a mixture that makes this show so beautiful to behold.
The main focus of the premiere was Coach Taylor’s (Kyle Chandler, again showing why he is so deserving of an Emmy) new job at East Dillon High, an other-side-of-the-tracks type place that is the subject of much debate around town. Redistricting is causing some students to be transferred to the neglected East Dillon, and some don’t want to go peacefully. Coach’s Lions turn out to be a ragtag group with little talent and even less heart. Of course, there are a few bright spots; he has Landry (Jesse Plemons) on his squad again, and a juvie named Vince (new addition Michael B. Jordan), brought in as part of a second chance program for problem teens. Coach is usually a pretty evenhanded guy, but his frustrations—over being forced out of his job with the Panthers and over the lack of dedication his new team is showing—gets the better of him in a scene in which he screams at his players to “get the hell out of my house” if they don’t want to be there. It is a powerhouse moment for both Coach and Chandler, one that undoubtedly sets the stage for more tension to come.
“Never Out of the Fight” is the motto painted on the locker room wall, a remnant of the previous Lions regime. But it’s Coach’s own motto, carried over from the Panthers, that brings goosebumps. While “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” doesn’t have quite the impact when it’s chanted by a group of guys who don’t yet believe in themselves, it does provide a layer of hope that maybe this team has a glimmer of potential. Once out on the gridiron, though, the Lions don’t just get beat, they get beat up, stammering off the field at halftime bloodied and bruised. This leads an angry Coach to do something he never even would have considered doing with the Panthers—forfeiting the game. It’s the kind of decision that you just know is going to wrangle and eat at Coach, this man who, especially when it comes to football, is so prideful and determined.
In his pregame speech, Coach says to his team, “There’s a joy to this game, is there not?” And while it may not have been evident once the team took the field, I couldn’t help but think that there’s a joy to this show. Outcomes aren’t always easy in Dillon, predictable is not in the picture. What you get instead is humanity, emotion, and a sense that everything is going to be all right, even when you know deep down it may not be. What you get instead is real.
Probably stemming from the fact that it has always been an underdog forced to fight for its spot on the schedule, Friday Night Lights embraces change brilliantly, from letting its characters move on gracefully when needed (last year it was Smash and Jason who got heartfelt sendoffs, this year Saracen, Tyra, and Lyla will get the same treatment) to giving those who are staying put tough decisions to make. Mistakes are plentiful in Dillon, Texas, as are triumphs, a mixture that makes this show so beautiful to behold.
The main focus of the premiere was Coach Taylor’s (Kyle Chandler, again showing why he is so deserving of an Emmy) new job at East Dillon High, an other-side-of-the-tracks type place that is the subject of much debate around town. Redistricting is causing some students to be transferred to the neglected East Dillon, and some don’t want to go peacefully. Coach’s Lions turn out to be a ragtag group with little talent and even less heart. Of course, there are a few bright spots; he has Landry (Jesse Plemons) on his squad again, and a juvie named Vince (new addition Michael B. Jordan), brought in as part of a second chance program for problem teens. Coach is usually a pretty evenhanded guy, but his frustrations—over being forced out of his job with the Panthers and over the lack of dedication his new team is showing—gets the better of him in a scene in which he screams at his players to “get the hell out of my house” if they don’t want to be there. It is a powerhouse moment for both Coach and Chandler, one that undoubtedly sets the stage for more tension to come.
“Never Out of the Fight” is the motto painted on the locker room wall, a remnant of the previous Lions regime. But it’s Coach’s own motto, carried over from the Panthers, that brings goosebumps. While “Clear eyes, full hearts, can’t lose” doesn’t have quite the impact when it’s chanted by a group of guys who don’t yet believe in themselves, it does provide a layer of hope that maybe this team has a glimmer of potential. Once out on the gridiron, though, the Lions don’t just get beat, they get beat up, stammering off the field at halftime bloodied and bruised. This leads an angry Coach to do something he never even would have considered doing with the Panthers—forfeiting the game. It’s the kind of decision that you just know is going to wrangle and eat at Coach, this man who, especially when it comes to football, is so prideful and determined.
In his pregame speech, Coach says to his team, “There’s a joy to this game, is there not?” And while it may not have been evident once the team took the field, I couldn’t help but think that there’s a joy to this show. Outcomes aren’t always easy in Dillon, predictable is not in the picture. What you get instead is humanity, emotion, and a sense that everything is going to be all right, even when you know deep down it may not be. What you get instead is real.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Survivor: Still the Ultimate Endurance Test
An impressive nineteen seasons in, Survivor is still able to deliver a few firsts, and this season, set in Somoa, has already come up with more than its share. It started out with more contestants than any other season (20), and had a contestant kicked out of a challenge for the first time when Ben was ousted for purposely tripping another contestant. And last night saw a flurry of firsts: First time a challenge has been stopped, and ultimately cancelled (Russell S. from the Galu tribe went into the challenge feeling drained and later passed out on the game board, a harrowing situation, though it took a beat for host Jeff Probst to realize what had happened since Russell was blindfolded). First time so many contestants were at tribal council (both tribes went, which meant there were 13 contestants present). And the first time tribal council ended with no one being sent home (both tribes were to have voted someone off, but the events of the day led to some generosity on the producers’ part).
All this drama plus some colorful characters in the form of Russell H., not nearly as nasty as he was at the start of the game but still able to manipulate his tribemates quite handily; and Shambo, a retired Marine who clashes with her Galu tribemates yet has had no trouble making friends while visiting the Foa Foa tribe. With so much going on on both sides, it doesn’t even matter that Natalie, Laura, Brett, and Mick have yet to establish personalities that go beyond the point of being nondescript.
This is shaping up to be one of the most eventful and physically demanding seasons of Survivor ever. Over the course of the last two episodes, contestants have had to seek out any sort of shelter they can find to guard themselves from the torrential downpours that last for days on end. Right about now, their emotions are as raw as their skin, a fact that was only exacerbated by Russell S.’s forced departure after being assessed by the show’s medical staff. His exit was truly heartrending, with him feeling that he had not only let himself down, but his family as well. Russell played the game with as much determination and fortitude as can be expected, and if the remaining contestants can muster half the grit that he displayed, it should make for an entertaining back half of what has already been an incredibly enjoyable season.
All this drama plus some colorful characters in the form of Russell H., not nearly as nasty as he was at the start of the game but still able to manipulate his tribemates quite handily; and Shambo, a retired Marine who clashes with her Galu tribemates yet has had no trouble making friends while visiting the Foa Foa tribe. With so much going on on both sides, it doesn’t even matter that Natalie, Laura, Brett, and Mick have yet to establish personalities that go beyond the point of being nondescript.
This is shaping up to be one of the most eventful and physically demanding seasons of Survivor ever. Over the course of the last two episodes, contestants have had to seek out any sort of shelter they can find to guard themselves from the torrential downpours that last for days on end. Right about now, their emotions are as raw as their skin, a fact that was only exacerbated by Russell S.’s forced departure after being assessed by the show’s medical staff. His exit was truly heartrending, with him feeling that he had not only let himself down, but his family as well. Russell played the game with as much determination and fortitude as can be expected, and if the remaining contestants can muster half the grit that he displayed, it should make for an entertaining back half of what has already been an incredibly enjoyable season.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
What Did You See?
Unlike film, TV is a landscape for characters over concept. It’s more about what happens to the people who inhabit a mundane, everyday setting—hospital, police station, bar—than it is about cataclysms and life-changing events. Just imagine what your favorite show would be like if, week in and week out, something huge had to happen, whether if felt organic or not. It’s the rare show that can successfully meld character and concept in a way that is both entertaining and thought provoking (Lost and 24 immediately spring to mind, though both have had moments where events have felt forced, particularly in the latter). This season, that show is ABC’s FlashForward (Thursdays, 8pm), a headtrippy drama that, like Lost, dares to draw viewers in with more questions than it is currently prepared to answer.
The show’s premise is simple: On a seemingly normal morning, people across the globe black out for two minutes, seventeen seconds, during which time they have visions of what is going to happen to them on a specific date, April 29, 2010. FBI agent Mark Benford (Shakespeare in Love’s Joseph Fiennes) sees himself relapsing into alcoholism while working on the blackout case, dubbed Mosaic. His wife Olivia (Lost’s Sonya Walger) has a vision of herself with another man, a man she’s never met but who ends up being the father of one of her patients. Mark’s partner Demetri (John Cho from the Harold & Kumar movies) sees nothing at all and later receives a mysterious tip telling him that he will be murdered in March.
This worldwide event brings up a number of existential questions. Can what you saw be changed or are you destined to live it out no matter how you try to intervene? How do you go about your normal life now that you have information that could make you rethink everything? And how much stock should you put in something that may be nothing more than a glorified dream? Of course, FlashForward isn’t coming right out with answers to these questions; they’ve got an entire season to fill, after all.
We're slowly starting to delve into what caused the blackout and why it happened in the first place. Among the tidbits that have been revealed so far are that a man in a Detroit baseball stadium was immune to the blackout; a Nazi named D. Gibbons is a “bad man” (Benford’s daughter’s words; Gibbons was in her vision) and will soon be released from a German prison; a similar blackout occurred in Somalia in 1991; and Olivia’s future lover is apparently involved in the whole thing, along with a mystery man introduced last week played by Dominic Monaghan, also from Lost.
What we’ve seen so far is that the visions are making people act in ways they wouldn’t ordinarily act, such as Olivia and Mark keeping secrets from each other about what exactly they saw. And if this gripping show has a flaw, this is it. We don’t get to see who these people really are because they no longer seem to know themselves, so enmeshed are they in what will happen rather than what is happening. Still, this is a wait-and-see type of show, where patience with storytelling and character development will hopefully be rewarded with a whiz-bang payoff. From its cast to its time structure, FlashForward obviously owes a huge debt to Lost. I can only hope that it proves to be a worthy successor to that classic, soon-to-retire island drama.
The show’s premise is simple: On a seemingly normal morning, people across the globe black out for two minutes, seventeen seconds, during which time they have visions of what is going to happen to them on a specific date, April 29, 2010. FBI agent Mark Benford (Shakespeare in Love’s Joseph Fiennes) sees himself relapsing into alcoholism while working on the blackout case, dubbed Mosaic. His wife Olivia (Lost’s Sonya Walger) has a vision of herself with another man, a man she’s never met but who ends up being the father of one of her patients. Mark’s partner Demetri (John Cho from the Harold & Kumar movies) sees nothing at all and later receives a mysterious tip telling him that he will be murdered in March.
This worldwide event brings up a number of existential questions. Can what you saw be changed or are you destined to live it out no matter how you try to intervene? How do you go about your normal life now that you have information that could make you rethink everything? And how much stock should you put in something that may be nothing more than a glorified dream? Of course, FlashForward isn’t coming right out with answers to these questions; they’ve got an entire season to fill, after all.
We're slowly starting to delve into what caused the blackout and why it happened in the first place. Among the tidbits that have been revealed so far are that a man in a Detroit baseball stadium was immune to the blackout; a Nazi named D. Gibbons is a “bad man” (Benford’s daughter’s words; Gibbons was in her vision) and will soon be released from a German prison; a similar blackout occurred in Somalia in 1991; and Olivia’s future lover is apparently involved in the whole thing, along with a mystery man introduced last week played by Dominic Monaghan, also from Lost.
What we’ve seen so far is that the visions are making people act in ways they wouldn’t ordinarily act, such as Olivia and Mark keeping secrets from each other about what exactly they saw. And if this gripping show has a flaw, this is it. We don’t get to see who these people really are because they no longer seem to know themselves, so enmeshed are they in what will happen rather than what is happening. Still, this is a wait-and-see type of show, where patience with storytelling and character development will hopefully be rewarded with a whiz-bang payoff. From its cast to its time structure, FlashForward obviously owes a huge debt to Lost. I can only hope that it proves to be a worthy successor to that classic, soon-to-retire island drama.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Playing the Economy for Laughs
ABC Comedy Wednesday is 3 for 4 in the success department. Kelsey Grammer’s inane Hank doesn’t make the grade, but you can add The Middle (Wednesdays, 8:30pm) to Modern Family and Cougar Town as solid examples of what has become a stronger year for comedy than we’ve seen in some time.
The "middle" in the title refers to the middle of the country—Orson, Indiana—which, for this cast of characters is also the middle of nowhere. Everybody Loves Raymond’s Patricia Heaton plays Frankie Heck, a frazzled mother trying to hold things together as the economy wreaks havoc on her family. Frankie is a salesperson barely hanging on to her job at a used car lot, where she uses test drives to take care of personal business and has a negative sales record (in the pilot, one of those test drives resulted in a theft). Husband Mike (Scrubs’s nameless janitor Neil Flynn) is a quarry manager who believes that the best thing he can do for his kids is to be completely honest with them, even if that means their self-esteem takes a blow as a result. And what of the kids? There’s sarcastic son Axl (Charlie McDermott), awkward daughter Sue (Eden Sher), and just plain weird youngest son Brick (Atticus Shaffer). Shaffer is a real find, capable of stealing a scene from Heaton and Flynn with nothing more than a whisper (he repeats words softly to himself as a soothing mechanism). He’s far from the only thing that works in The Middle, unfortunately titled since comparisons to Malcolm in the Middle are inevitable. But this is no mere copycat sitcom. Where Malcolm got by on having the entire family yell at each other for seven seasons, The Middle is much more subtle, letting its familial hardships be known without having to resort to ugliness at every turn.
There’s nothing but ugliness, however, in Hank (Wednesdays, 8pm), another new comedy that uses the economic crisis at its jumping-off point. Kelsey Grammer is Hank Pryor, a victim of corporate downsizing who is forced to pull his family away from their cushy New York lifestyle to return to his more affordable Virginia roots. Naturally, nobody wants to be there, with the exception of son Henry, who “cannot wait to go to the bathroom here.” If that inexplicable joke makes you laugh, please enjoy Hank. If, on the other hand, you’re looking for even a whiff of the sophistication that defined Frasier, you’re in for a very long half-hour. Not even Grammer’s expertise with a punchline is enough to make these particular punchlines funny, and support from Melinda McGraw as wife Tilly and Anchorman’s David Koechner as brother-in-law Grady can’t do anything to improve matters. ABC has better comedy prospects waiting in the wings (the Scrubs reboot, Better Off Ted), so it probably won’t be too long before Hank itself is downsized.
The "middle" in the title refers to the middle of the country—Orson, Indiana—which, for this cast of characters is also the middle of nowhere. Everybody Loves Raymond’s Patricia Heaton plays Frankie Heck, a frazzled mother trying to hold things together as the economy wreaks havoc on her family. Frankie is a salesperson barely hanging on to her job at a used car lot, where she uses test drives to take care of personal business and has a negative sales record (in the pilot, one of those test drives resulted in a theft). Husband Mike (Scrubs’s nameless janitor Neil Flynn) is a quarry manager who believes that the best thing he can do for his kids is to be completely honest with them, even if that means their self-esteem takes a blow as a result. And what of the kids? There’s sarcastic son Axl (Charlie McDermott), awkward daughter Sue (Eden Sher), and just plain weird youngest son Brick (Atticus Shaffer). Shaffer is a real find, capable of stealing a scene from Heaton and Flynn with nothing more than a whisper (he repeats words softly to himself as a soothing mechanism). He’s far from the only thing that works in The Middle, unfortunately titled since comparisons to Malcolm in the Middle are inevitable. But this is no mere copycat sitcom. Where Malcolm got by on having the entire family yell at each other for seven seasons, The Middle is much more subtle, letting its familial hardships be known without having to resort to ugliness at every turn.
There’s nothing but ugliness, however, in Hank (Wednesdays, 8pm), another new comedy that uses the economic crisis at its jumping-off point. Kelsey Grammer is Hank Pryor, a victim of corporate downsizing who is forced to pull his family away from their cushy New York lifestyle to return to his more affordable Virginia roots. Naturally, nobody wants to be there, with the exception of son Henry, who “cannot wait to go to the bathroom here.” If that inexplicable joke makes you laugh, please enjoy Hank. If, on the other hand, you’re looking for even a whiff of the sophistication that defined Frasier, you’re in for a very long half-hour. Not even Grammer’s expertise with a punchline is enough to make these particular punchlines funny, and support from Melinda McGraw as wife Tilly and Anchorman’s David Koechner as brother-in-law Grady can’t do anything to improve matters. ABC has better comedy prospects waiting in the wings (the Scrubs reboot, Better Off Ted), so it probably won’t be too long before Hank itself is downsized.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Rivers Doesn't Flow
The medical genre has seen more than its share of turkeys this year in HawthoRNe, Mercy, and Trauma, and CBS doesn’t do it any favors with its new entry Three Rivers (Sundays, 9pm). The network hasn’t had a successful medical drama since Chicago Hope closed its doors nine years ago (remember Presidio Med? L.A. Doctors? 3 lbs.? Exactly.), and Three Rivers won’t be the show to break that dry spell.
Focusing on the transplant wing of a Pittsburgh hospital, Rivers marks the return of Alex O’Loughlin, star of Moonlight, a cult vampire show that had the misfortune of premiering a year before bloodsuckers were de rigueur again. Here he plays Andy Yablonski, the rare hot shot surgeon without a God complex. Much of the time, though, O’Loughlin is pushed to the fringes in favor of the transplant team’s other members, including The L Word’s stern, strong Katherine Moennig (she should be the real star of the show) and newbie Christopher J. Hanke as the assistant to the transplant coordinator, a role that doesn’t merit nearly the amount of screen time that this green actor is given.
Three Rivers touches on all the scenes you’d expect to see: the ambivalence of the donor’s family, the doctors getting upset about said family’s ambivalence, team members having to make difficult life/death decisions. And then it shoves in a few scenes you don’t expect to see and that you wouldn’t miss if they weren’t there: an organ harvest is halted when the cops show up and announce that the donor is a murder suspect (this little nugget, seemingly inserted just to give the writer a wowzer of an act break, went absolutely nowhere); the team, rushing to get back to the hospital with a pair of lungs and a kidney, runs into traffic caused by a bomb threat (the timing of these things!).
After retooling the pilot, CBS then made the late decision to air it as the second episode, making for some strange introductions to characters we’d already met last week. But airing episodes out of order is the least of this show’s troubles. How about the producers bringing the wonderful Alfre Woodard on board and then giving her nothing of import to do? How about the nauseating NYPD Blue-style shaky cam that is awkwardly mixed with traditional camera setups for an uneasy aesthetic? How about the fact that CBS is now giving creator Carol Barbee her third chance following the failures of Jericho and Swingtown? How about I just tell you that hanging out in your local emergency room would probably be more exciting than watching this pedestrian, unspectacular show?
Focusing on the transplant wing of a Pittsburgh hospital, Rivers marks the return of Alex O’Loughlin, star of Moonlight, a cult vampire show that had the misfortune of premiering a year before bloodsuckers were de rigueur again. Here he plays Andy Yablonski, the rare hot shot surgeon without a God complex. Much of the time, though, O’Loughlin is pushed to the fringes in favor of the transplant team’s other members, including The L Word’s stern, strong Katherine Moennig (she should be the real star of the show) and newbie Christopher J. Hanke as the assistant to the transplant coordinator, a role that doesn’t merit nearly the amount of screen time that this green actor is given.
Three Rivers touches on all the scenes you’d expect to see: the ambivalence of the donor’s family, the doctors getting upset about said family’s ambivalence, team members having to make difficult life/death decisions. And then it shoves in a few scenes you don’t expect to see and that you wouldn’t miss if they weren’t there: an organ harvest is halted when the cops show up and announce that the donor is a murder suspect (this little nugget, seemingly inserted just to give the writer a wowzer of an act break, went absolutely nowhere); the team, rushing to get back to the hospital with a pair of lungs and a kidney, runs into traffic caused by a bomb threat (the timing of these things!).
After retooling the pilot, CBS then made the late decision to air it as the second episode, making for some strange introductions to characters we’d already met last week. But airing episodes out of order is the least of this show’s troubles. How about the producers bringing the wonderful Alfre Woodard on board and then giving her nothing of import to do? How about the nauseating NYPD Blue-style shaky cam that is awkwardly mixed with traditional camera setups for an uneasy aesthetic? How about the fact that CBS is now giving creator Carol Barbee her third chance following the failures of Jericho and Swingtown? How about I just tell you that hanging out in your local emergency room would probably be more exciting than watching this pedestrian, unspectacular show?
Friday, October 9, 2009
An Office Wedding, and NBC Cancels Southland
TV’s most romantic couple, Jim and Pam, tied the knot last night in an episode of NBC’s The Office that looked to be as much fun for cast and crew to make as it was for me to watch. When the show has expanded to an hour in the past, it’s felt forced, as if deleted scenes had been tacked back on to pad the hour because the story being told couldn’t actually support the extra length. The wedding episode, though, was perfect in every way, from the opening scene in which the entire office broke into chain reaction vomiting (not the most traditional way to start a wedding episode) to Jim’s tear-jerking toast gone wrong (he unintentionally revealed Pam is pregnant in front of some very conservative family members) to the delightful, You Tube-inspired dance down the aisle that capped the hour. Other highlights: Andy spending the night on Pam's hotel room floor after tearing his scrotum while doing the splits; Dwight being less grating than usual, even as he acted the womanizer; Oscar’s outrage at being mistaken for the slovenly Kevin’s boyfriend; and Michael’s well-intentioned but misbegotten attempts to speak at the rehearsal dinner. Congratulations to the happy couple, and to The Office, for producing an hour that was pure bliss from beginning to end.
In other NBC news, the network has decided to cancel police drama Southland two weeks before its sophomore season was set to premiere. Variety reports that the show’s expensive license fee was the culprit, a figure the net couldn’t justify when episodes of Dateline NBC, a much cheaper show, would likely perform as well as, if not better than, Southland in the ratings. And so Dateline will remain in that Friday 9pm time slot, one less hour of scripted programming on a schedule already dominated by the under-performing Jay Leno Show.
NBC is truly a network in trouble. Heroes is down for the third straight year, now hovering just above five million viewers (it had about 14 million at its season-one peak); new dramas Trauma and Mercy aren’t exactly providing good medicine; the once dependable Law & Order: SVU has seen its audience drop significantly since moving to the earlier 9pm time period; and the net’s Thursday comedy block is a shadow of its former Must See TV self. The only thing currently working in NBC’s favor is Sunday Night Football, but that’ll be gone come January, and the net has never been able to translate strong NFL numbers into any real success on Sunday night in winter and spring (two hours of The Celebrity Apprentice—needless overkill to be sure—is the closest thing they’ve had to a hit on the night in years).
What’s the solution to all this negativity? Consider NBC to be the pit that organizers are trying to turn into a park on the network’s own failing comedy Parks and Recreation. By taking away its 10pm options and killing off shows like Southland before they’ve even gotten a chance to prove themselves, the network is only widening the pit. To fill it back up, Leno’s gotta go, quality has to start trumping ego, and NBC programmers have to treat their airwaves as more than a commodity. Viewers are often accused of being sheep-like in their habits, but they know when the wool is being pulled over their eyes. Time to take out the shears, NBC, before you end up losing all sense of dignity.
In other NBC news, the network has decided to cancel police drama Southland two weeks before its sophomore season was set to premiere. Variety reports that the show’s expensive license fee was the culprit, a figure the net couldn’t justify when episodes of Dateline NBC, a much cheaper show, would likely perform as well as, if not better than, Southland in the ratings. And so Dateline will remain in that Friday 9pm time slot, one less hour of scripted programming on a schedule already dominated by the under-performing Jay Leno Show.
NBC is truly a network in trouble. Heroes is down for the third straight year, now hovering just above five million viewers (it had about 14 million at its season-one peak); new dramas Trauma and Mercy aren’t exactly providing good medicine; the once dependable Law & Order: SVU has seen its audience drop significantly since moving to the earlier 9pm time period; and the net’s Thursday comedy block is a shadow of its former Must See TV self. The only thing currently working in NBC’s favor is Sunday Night Football, but that’ll be gone come January, and the net has never been able to translate strong NFL numbers into any real success on Sunday night in winter and spring (two hours of The Celebrity Apprentice—needless overkill to be sure—is the closest thing they’ve had to a hit on the night in years).
What’s the solution to all this negativity? Consider NBC to be the pit that organizers are trying to turn into a park on the network’s own failing comedy Parks and Recreation. By taking away its 10pm options and killing off shows like Southland before they’ve even gotten a chance to prove themselves, the network is only widening the pit. To fill it back up, Leno’s gotta go, quality has to start trumping ego, and NBC programmers have to treat their airwaves as more than a commodity. Viewers are often accused of being sheep-like in their habits, but they know when the wool is being pulled over their eyes. Time to take out the shears, NBC, before you end up losing all sense of dignity.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
New Fall Series Roundup
Accidentally on Purpose (CBS, Mondays, 8:30pm): A one-night stand with a much younger man turns into an unexpected pregnancy for San Francisco film critic Billie (Jenna Elfman) in this sorry excuse for a sitcom. Because this is the land of TV comedy, Zack (Jon Foster) the “baby baby daddy,” moves into Billie’s apartment, where they sleep in separate rooms and try to maintain boundaries. This is the kind of show that thinks hilarity comes from Billie flicking her breasts to make her nipples perk up, or from her dancing around the office chanting, “My booty is delicious” (how professional!). Three episodes in, the show is already recycling some its own “jokes,” and last night used the same tanning-lotion-as-masturbatory-aid plot that Rescue Me used months ago. The worst part is that even the actors can’t convince us that they at least find this material amusing. It’s safe to say that you can purposely steer clear of Accidentally on Purpose.
Trauma (NBC, Mondays, 9pm): If you like your shows to have a modicum of character development look elsewhere. If, however, you like your shows to maneuver from one meaningless though well-constructed set piece to another, this might be the show for you. Trauma follows a group of San Francisco paramedics who apparently have very little going on in their lives outside of their jobs. With Friday Night Lights’ executive producer Peter Berg and director Jeffrey Reiner attached, not to mention a cast that includes Derek Luke (Antwone Fisher), Anastasia Griffith (Damages), and Jamey Sheridan (Chicago Hope), this is the new season’s biggest waste of talent.
Instead of introducing us to the characters, the pilot spent most of its time at the scene of a horrific freeway pileup; last night was much of the same, though this time it was a driver plowing through a street fair. These scenes are all impressive in their scope—and the location shooting is certainly a highlight—but they seem intentionally drawn out to avoid having to spend any quiet time with the characters, clearly not among creator Dario Scardapane’s strong suits. (Here’s a dose of the wisdom this shows doles out: “People get hurt. Some get saved, a lot die. Then it happens all over again.”) In last night’s episode, a child actor yawned during a scene in which his mother was lying unconscious on the floor. That’s about the same reaction I had while watching this train wreck of a show.
Mercy (NBC, Wednesdays, 8pm): NBC’s second stab at the medical genre this season, Mercy is slightly more successful than Trauma, certainly an instance of damning with faint praise. Veronica Callahan (newcomer Taylor Schilling) has just returned to her nursing job after a tour of duty in Iraq, a fact that is clearly meant to endear her to the audience. And it might work if she hadn’t cheated on her husband while she was over there, didn’t use her war experience as an excuse not to deal with her life in the present, and didn’t have a habit of comparing all her cases to the ones she saw in combat. Veronica is yet another modern medical professional who has spent way too much time in the Meredith Grey School of Narcissism. It’s hard to build sympathy for a woman who feels she’s so deserving of it.
Mercy actually feels like a retread of Showtime’s summer dramedy Nurse Jackie: the tough-talking lead with an exterior that’s hard to crack, the peppy, naïve new nurse who wears colorful scrubs, the hospital administrator who likes to lecture nurses for caring too much. One more similarity presents itself when the man Veronica cheated with—he’s played by Men in Trees’ James Tupper—gets a job as a doctor in her hospital (Nurse Jackie had an affair with the hospital pharmacist). Is it a coincidence that so much of Mercy is reminiscent of another, far superior show? Maybe, maybe not. Regardless, why watch a knockoff when you can go straight to the original?
The Forgotten (ABC, Tuesdays, 10pm): I’ve already established that I’m not a fan of the crime drama genre; the case-of-the-week formula just doesn’t do anything for me. But that doesn’t mean that I go into new shows thinking that I’m going to hate them. I’d love for one of them to shake up my opinion and give me a reason to care. Unfortunately, The Forgotten is not that show.
Christian Slater heads a group of civilian volunteers who work with the police to put a name to John/Jane Does. We are told early on that this is the victim’s story and that it’s not about solving the murder. Funny, then, how the victim is identified halfway through the hour and the rest of the time is spent trying to find the killer. Aside from Slater (he’s a former cop motivated by his own daughter’s kidnapping, which explains why he never bothers to smile), the team of volunteers is as nameless and nondescript as the victims they’re trying to identify. A fat guy who crunches on cheese puffs and fancies himself a version of NYPD Blue’s Andy Sipowicz is supposed to provide the comic relief, and is about the extent of what counts for personality here. Clunky backstory revelations are divulged in conjunction with the investigation (when a Jane Doe turns up with a diamond ring, it prompts one team member to recall jilting her fiancé at the altar). It’s all standard-issue stuff under the guise of being something unique in crime drama storytelling.
Eastwick (ABC, Wednesdays, 10pm): Saving the best for last, Eastwick is a lark of a show that makes for a nice midweek diversion. Based on The Witches of Eastwick (both the book and the movie), it tells the story of three women who make a wish at a fountain only to see those wishes come true in the form of strange powers courtesy of Darryl Van Horne (Due South’s Paul Gross, obviously having a blast), a mysterious man who blows into town, laying his charm on thick. Roxie (Rebecca Romijn, Ugly Betty) starts having psychic dreams, including one in which she’s murdered; Joanna (Lipstick Jungle’s Lindsay Price) has the power to make men do whatever she wants; and Kat (Jaime Ray Newman from Eureka) can harness the power of Mother Nature, causing earthquakes and lightning strikes. All of this is cute enough, but so far the show is lacking in substance and, other than the mystery surrounding Darryl, it’s hard to tell where it’s going. If it’s trying to be Desperate Housewitches, it’s going to need a lot more scandal—and plot—to get there. While it figures itself out, though, the lovely ladies of Eastwick are enough to make the show harmless fun.
Trauma (NBC, Mondays, 9pm): If you like your shows to have a modicum of character development look elsewhere. If, however, you like your shows to maneuver from one meaningless though well-constructed set piece to another, this might be the show for you. Trauma follows a group of San Francisco paramedics who apparently have very little going on in their lives outside of their jobs. With Friday Night Lights’ executive producer Peter Berg and director Jeffrey Reiner attached, not to mention a cast that includes Derek Luke (Antwone Fisher), Anastasia Griffith (Damages), and Jamey Sheridan (Chicago Hope), this is the new season’s biggest waste of talent.
Instead of introducing us to the characters, the pilot spent most of its time at the scene of a horrific freeway pileup; last night was much of the same, though this time it was a driver plowing through a street fair. These scenes are all impressive in their scope—and the location shooting is certainly a highlight—but they seem intentionally drawn out to avoid having to spend any quiet time with the characters, clearly not among creator Dario Scardapane’s strong suits. (Here’s a dose of the wisdom this shows doles out: “People get hurt. Some get saved, a lot die. Then it happens all over again.”) In last night’s episode, a child actor yawned during a scene in which his mother was lying unconscious on the floor. That’s about the same reaction I had while watching this train wreck of a show.
Mercy (NBC, Wednesdays, 8pm): NBC’s second stab at the medical genre this season, Mercy is slightly more successful than Trauma, certainly an instance of damning with faint praise. Veronica Callahan (newcomer Taylor Schilling) has just returned to her nursing job after a tour of duty in Iraq, a fact that is clearly meant to endear her to the audience. And it might work if she hadn’t cheated on her husband while she was over there, didn’t use her war experience as an excuse not to deal with her life in the present, and didn’t have a habit of comparing all her cases to the ones she saw in combat. Veronica is yet another modern medical professional who has spent way too much time in the Meredith Grey School of Narcissism. It’s hard to build sympathy for a woman who feels she’s so deserving of it.
Mercy actually feels like a retread of Showtime’s summer dramedy Nurse Jackie: the tough-talking lead with an exterior that’s hard to crack, the peppy, naïve new nurse who wears colorful scrubs, the hospital administrator who likes to lecture nurses for caring too much. One more similarity presents itself when the man Veronica cheated with—he’s played by Men in Trees’ James Tupper—gets a job as a doctor in her hospital (Nurse Jackie had an affair with the hospital pharmacist). Is it a coincidence that so much of Mercy is reminiscent of another, far superior show? Maybe, maybe not. Regardless, why watch a knockoff when you can go straight to the original?
The Forgotten (ABC, Tuesdays, 10pm): I’ve already established that I’m not a fan of the crime drama genre; the case-of-the-week formula just doesn’t do anything for me. But that doesn’t mean that I go into new shows thinking that I’m going to hate them. I’d love for one of them to shake up my opinion and give me a reason to care. Unfortunately, The Forgotten is not that show.
Christian Slater heads a group of civilian volunteers who work with the police to put a name to John/Jane Does. We are told early on that this is the victim’s story and that it’s not about solving the murder. Funny, then, how the victim is identified halfway through the hour and the rest of the time is spent trying to find the killer. Aside from Slater (he’s a former cop motivated by his own daughter’s kidnapping, which explains why he never bothers to smile), the team of volunteers is as nameless and nondescript as the victims they’re trying to identify. A fat guy who crunches on cheese puffs and fancies himself a version of NYPD Blue’s Andy Sipowicz is supposed to provide the comic relief, and is about the extent of what counts for personality here. Clunky backstory revelations are divulged in conjunction with the investigation (when a Jane Doe turns up with a diamond ring, it prompts one team member to recall jilting her fiancé at the altar). It’s all standard-issue stuff under the guise of being something unique in crime drama storytelling.
Eastwick (ABC, Wednesdays, 10pm): Saving the best for last, Eastwick is a lark of a show that makes for a nice midweek diversion. Based on The Witches of Eastwick (both the book and the movie), it tells the story of three women who make a wish at a fountain only to see those wishes come true in the form of strange powers courtesy of Darryl Van Horne (Due South’s Paul Gross, obviously having a blast), a mysterious man who blows into town, laying his charm on thick. Roxie (Rebecca Romijn, Ugly Betty) starts having psychic dreams, including one in which she’s murdered; Joanna (Lipstick Jungle’s Lindsay Price) has the power to make men do whatever she wants; and Kat (Jaime Ray Newman from Eureka) can harness the power of Mother Nature, causing earthquakes and lightning strikes. All of this is cute enough, but so far the show is lacking in substance and, other than the mystery surrounding Darryl, it’s hard to tell where it’s going. If it’s trying to be Desperate Housewitches, it’s going to need a lot more scandal—and plot—to get there. While it figures itself out, though, the lovely ladies of Eastwick are enough to make the show harmless fun.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Dollhouse: Nothing Behind the Eyes
I had hoped that Dollhouse, having been granted a somewhat inexplicable second season by Fox, would turn its creative act around and give viewers a reason to seek the show out. Alas, what we’ve been given in the first two episodes this year is much of what made the show so easy to avoid in the first place.
I’m as big a fan of series creator Joss Whedon’s work as the next TV geek (I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer from the beginning, stuck it out as Angel felt its way through a very bumpy first couple of seasons, and saw Firefly through its unfortunately short life), but there’s something about Dollhouse that keeps me at arms’ length, no matter how much I want to like the show. Much of the problem lies directly in the main concept: a collection of Actives, led by Eliza Dushku, are imprinted with memories and personalities, then sent on “engagements” (the show’s term for missions), after which they have their minds wiped clean so they can start out fresh the next time around. Sounds like a neat idea, right? Except that it doesn’t allow for any real investment in the characters. When Dushku’s Echo is imprinted with the characteristics of a singer or a college student or, as in last night’s episode, a wife and mother, you know that at the end of the hour she won’t be living in that skin anymore.
Whedon and company are trying to make their efforts worthwhile by introducing a sliver of an ongoing plotline in which Echo—who has trace amounts of memories that have stuck with her, something that isn’t supposed to happen—and her handler Paul Ballard (Battlestar Galactica’s Tahmoh Penikett) have designs to take down the Dollhouse. Since the episodes still spend most of their time focused on the engagements, this particular story line seems destined to be dragged out to the point where its resolution is met with a shrug and a resounding "Who cares?"
Then again nobody seems to care much as it is. The show dropped to its lowest ratings ever last night, with just over two million viewers tuning in (its ill-fitting sitcom companions, the abysmal Brothers and Til Death even managed to draw slightly more viewers). While the show’s Friday night death slot doesn’t do it any favors, I think the real problem is the show itself. There’s no warmth, no real humanity on display, and with a premise that keeps connection with the characters at bay, it’s no surprise that Dollhouse is struggling the way it is. Whedon half-joked in a conference call prior to the season premiere, “I don’t make hit shows. I make shows that stick around.” Not this time, I'm afraid, Joss. Not this time.
I’m as big a fan of series creator Joss Whedon’s work as the next TV geek (I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer from the beginning, stuck it out as Angel felt its way through a very bumpy first couple of seasons, and saw Firefly through its unfortunately short life), but there’s something about Dollhouse that keeps me at arms’ length, no matter how much I want to like the show. Much of the problem lies directly in the main concept: a collection of Actives, led by Eliza Dushku, are imprinted with memories and personalities, then sent on “engagements” (the show’s term for missions), after which they have their minds wiped clean so they can start out fresh the next time around. Sounds like a neat idea, right? Except that it doesn’t allow for any real investment in the characters. When Dushku’s Echo is imprinted with the characteristics of a singer or a college student or, as in last night’s episode, a wife and mother, you know that at the end of the hour she won’t be living in that skin anymore.
Whedon and company are trying to make their efforts worthwhile by introducing a sliver of an ongoing plotline in which Echo—who has trace amounts of memories that have stuck with her, something that isn’t supposed to happen—and her handler Paul Ballard (Battlestar Galactica’s Tahmoh Penikett) have designs to take down the Dollhouse. Since the episodes still spend most of their time focused on the engagements, this particular story line seems destined to be dragged out to the point where its resolution is met with a shrug and a resounding "Who cares?"
Then again nobody seems to care much as it is. The show dropped to its lowest ratings ever last night, with just over two million viewers tuning in (its ill-fitting sitcom companions, the abysmal Brothers and Til Death even managed to draw slightly more viewers). While the show’s Friday night death slot doesn’t do it any favors, I think the real problem is the show itself. There’s no warmth, no real humanity on display, and with a premise that keeps connection with the characters at bay, it’s no surprise that Dollhouse is struggling the way it is. Whedon half-joked in a conference call prior to the season premiere, “I don’t make hit shows. I make shows that stick around.” Not this time, I'm afraid, Joss. Not this time.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Old Dogs, New(ish) Tricks
The last time Steven Levitan (Just Shoot Me) and Christopher Lloyd (Frasier) teamed up to create a new comedy they came up with the should-have-been-funnier Back to You, starring Kelsey Grammer and Patricia Heaton. With ABC’s Modern Family, the end result is much better; in fact, it’s absolutely hilarious, perhaps the best new comedy of this young season.
What makes Modern Family so great is its slice-of-life simplicity. In a faux-documentary format that owes much to The Office, we meet three seemingly disparate families: May-December newlyweds Jay and Gloria (Ed O’Neill and Sofia Vergara), plus Manny, Gloria’s 11-year-old son who spends most of his time getting on Jay’s nerves; Phil and Claire (Julie Bowen and Ty Burrell), overwhelmed parents of three; and Mitchell and Cameron (Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Eric Stonestreet), a gay couple who have just returned from Vietman with their newly-adopted baby girl. We learn late in the pilot that all three are related, with Claire and Mitchell being Jay’s offspring. It makes perfect sense that these three are actually one big family since they all share the same hapless sensibilities.
In a flawless ensemble, the standouts here are Bowen and Burrell, she being a controlling though loving mother who takes responsibility for running the household, he being the kind of dad whose idea of discipline is to say "Buddy, uncool" when son Luke takes aim at his sister with a BB gun. There’s nothing particularly earth shattering about Modern Family, and that's actually something that works to the show's advantage. It's just a healthy dose of relatable humor that will have you clamoring for more.
Immediately following Modern Family on ABC Wednesdays is Cougar Town, the new comedy from Scrubs vets Bill Lawrence and Kevin Biegel. Courteney Cox stars as Jules Cobb, recently divorced and wanting to rediscover the years she lost while raising her now teenaged son Travis (Dan Byrd from Aliens in America). Jules’s idea of fun goes from wine and Scrabble with her neighbor/best friend Ellie (Christa Miller, not too far removed from the emasculating, shrewish character she played on Scrubs) to a drunken night of foolishness wherein her coworker Laurie (ER’s Busy Phillips) drops a boy toy off at her door. Jules proceeds to have sex with him three times in one night and fixes him a plate of crackers and peanut butter before bothering to learn his name. Growth has to start somewhere, after all, and shallowness is as good a place as any to begin.
Cox was never my favorite Friend (I always found Monica more grating than funny most of the time), but she does a fine job here as a woman who considers it a daring act to tempt the hair gods by running across a fountain in between spout cycles. The supporting cast, which also includes Cold Case’s Josh Hopkins as a neighbor with whom Jules shares a hateful/flirty banter, is filled with pros. While the party lifestyle may not be for Jules (“Younger people just don’t get tired like we do,” she tells Ellie), her long-delayed journey of self-discovery provides a decent number of laughs and, as the saying goes, could get even better with age.
What makes Modern Family so great is its slice-of-life simplicity. In a faux-documentary format that owes much to The Office, we meet three seemingly disparate families: May-December newlyweds Jay and Gloria (Ed O’Neill and Sofia Vergara), plus Manny, Gloria’s 11-year-old son who spends most of his time getting on Jay’s nerves; Phil and Claire (Julie Bowen and Ty Burrell), overwhelmed parents of three; and Mitchell and Cameron (Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Eric Stonestreet), a gay couple who have just returned from Vietman with their newly-adopted baby girl. We learn late in the pilot that all three are related, with Claire and Mitchell being Jay’s offspring. It makes perfect sense that these three are actually one big family since they all share the same hapless sensibilities.
In a flawless ensemble, the standouts here are Bowen and Burrell, she being a controlling though loving mother who takes responsibility for running the household, he being the kind of dad whose idea of discipline is to say "Buddy, uncool" when son Luke takes aim at his sister with a BB gun. There’s nothing particularly earth shattering about Modern Family, and that's actually something that works to the show's advantage. It's just a healthy dose of relatable humor that will have you clamoring for more.
Immediately following Modern Family on ABC Wednesdays is Cougar Town, the new comedy from Scrubs vets Bill Lawrence and Kevin Biegel. Courteney Cox stars as Jules Cobb, recently divorced and wanting to rediscover the years she lost while raising her now teenaged son Travis (Dan Byrd from Aliens in America). Jules’s idea of fun goes from wine and Scrabble with her neighbor/best friend Ellie (Christa Miller, not too far removed from the emasculating, shrewish character she played on Scrubs) to a drunken night of foolishness wherein her coworker Laurie (ER’s Busy Phillips) drops a boy toy off at her door. Jules proceeds to have sex with him three times in one night and fixes him a plate of crackers and peanut butter before bothering to learn his name. Growth has to start somewhere, after all, and shallowness is as good a place as any to begin.
Cox was never my favorite Friend (I always found Monica more grating than funny most of the time), but she does a fine job here as a woman who considers it a daring act to tempt the hair gods by running across a fountain in between spout cycles. The supporting cast, which also includes Cold Case’s Josh Hopkins as a neighbor with whom Jules shares a hateful/flirty banter, is filled with pros. While the party lifestyle may not be for Jules (“Younger people just don’t get tired like we do,” she tells Ellie), her long-delayed journey of self-discovery provides a decent number of laughs and, as the saying goes, could get even better with age.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Wife is Good
With political sex scandals seemingly cropping up every couple of months, it was only a matter of time before someone took the opportunity to use this scenario as the basis for a TV show. In CBS’s The Good Wife, Julianna Margulies plays Alicia Florrick, mother of two teenagers and wife to State’s Attorney Peter (Chris Noth), caught on tape having sex with a hooker and jailed for abuse of office. Left as the breadwinner, Alicia decides to go back to being a lawyer, a job she abandoned thirteen years ago to focus on her family.
After more than fifty years, the legal drama formula doesn’t offer much in the way of surprises. These days, you know that the twist is coming, it’s only a matter of when. On that front, The Good Wife is no different; a murder case is turned on the discovery of a doctored video, a rape case hinges on a contaminated DNA sample. Yet with Alicia working hard to defend her clients (and Margulies working just as hard at combining strength and sympathy), the cases still prove stimulating.
What really makes The Good Wife more than a spinster variation on a theme is the excellent cast. In addition to Margulies (playing her second lawyer in two years, though she’s much softer here than she was on Fox’s brief but promising Canterbury’s Law), we are treated to the wonderfully haughty Christine Baranski (Cybill), whose clipped line readings never get tired; and Josh Charles, bringing the same air of confidence he exuded on the still lamented Sports Night.
Thus far the series strikes a nice balance between the court cases and examining the effect that Peter’s dalliances are having on the Florrick family. How do you shield your kids from a scandal that dominated the news? Does Alicia, the dutiful, “good” wife continue to stand by her man even as there's a chance he could be released on appeal? As the headlines have shown, politics are hard enough to deal with when they’re left in the office, and the answers don't come any easier when they’re brought inside the home.
After more than fifty years, the legal drama formula doesn’t offer much in the way of surprises. These days, you know that the twist is coming, it’s only a matter of when. On that front, The Good Wife is no different; a murder case is turned on the discovery of a doctored video, a rape case hinges on a contaminated DNA sample. Yet with Alicia working hard to defend her clients (and Margulies working just as hard at combining strength and sympathy), the cases still prove stimulating.
What really makes The Good Wife more than a spinster variation on a theme is the excellent cast. In addition to Margulies (playing her second lawyer in two years, though she’s much softer here than she was on Fox’s brief but promising Canterbury’s Law), we are treated to the wonderfully haughty Christine Baranski (Cybill), whose clipped line readings never get tired; and Josh Charles, bringing the same air of confidence he exuded on the still lamented Sports Night.
Thus far the series strikes a nice balance between the court cases and examining the effect that Peter’s dalliances are having on the Florrick family. How do you shield your kids from a scandal that dominated the news? Does Alicia, the dutiful, “good” wife continue to stand by her man even as there's a chance he could be released on appeal? As the headlines have shown, politics are hard enough to deal with when they’re left in the office, and the answers don't come any easier when they’re brought inside the home.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday Night is Cutthroat
Rarely will a series enter its fourth season without having experienced any major creative hiccups. Showtime's Dexter is that series. New episodes began last night after a nine-month absence (fitting since Dex is now a new daddy), and it was as easy as ever to get sucked back into the world of the Miami Homicide Division and its kooky killer hunters.
The hour opened with Dexter (Michael C. Hall, solid as ever) being severely off his game; baby Harrision is not sleeping well and it’s driving Dex nuts. In a hilarious Murphy’s Law-style reenactment of the series’ title sequence, Dexter is unable to squash the mosquito on his arm, his normally crisp white T-shirt has baby puke on it, and his shoelace breaks when he pulls it tight. If all this sounds like no big deal, remember that Dexter is a meticulous man; his continued freedom requires that everything be just so in order for him to get away with his acts of vengeance. Which is why it’s such a shock to see him screw up in court, mixing up case files and allowing a murderer to be released. Of course, all this means is that Dex has found his latest mark, and it couldn’t come at a better time. Firmly ensconced in the horrors of suburbia and family life, he’s been jonesing for a kill (Dex somehow equates murder with being there for his son, saying he’s “killing for two” now. Isn’t it amazing that we care so much for this guy who has such a deeply warped mind?)
It wouldn’t be Dexter if there weren’t a serial killer to track in between scenes of our loveable main character killing people of his own. This season, that killer is played by John Lithgow. We got two brief glimpses of Lithgow’s Trinity Killer last night, once when he created a literal bloodbath by killing a woman in her tub and again when he showered in scalding hot water. If there was a problem with the episode, it was these scenes. Gripping though they were, it was a strange shift in POV, since much of the show, especially the murders, is seen through Dexter’s eyes. Still, the marvelous Lithgow will no doubt devour this role, and his character’s presence brings back Keith Carradine as Agent Lundy, now retired from the FBI but determined to find the one that got away.
The episode ends with Dex so exhausted that he rolls his car after falling asleep at the wheel. While we know our “hero” will be fine, the real trouble lies in the fact that he was driving back from his kill site at the time, with several trash bags full of body parts in the back. How’s he gonna get out of this one? That’s the beauty of this show, which puts the mouse so close to the cat that the cat has no idea it’s even there.
Also back last night was CBS's The Amazing Race, returning for its 15th season fresh off another Emmy win. For the first time in Race history, a team was eliminated right off the bat during a ho-hum challenge in which the correct license plate had to be found on an entire wall filled with license plates. It’s hard to feel too bad for the team (Eric and Lisa, who decided that it was their fate to “set [the others teams] free” ) since we only knew them for about a minute before they were sent packing, but how depressing must it have been that their race began and ended in the L.A. River.
Outside of the usual assortment of married and dating couples, the remaining eleven teams have among them two Harlem Globetrotters who go by the names Flight Time and Big Easy; gay brothers Sam and Dan; and Zev & Justin, one of whom (Zev) has Asperger’s Syndrome, a form of high-functioning autism that makes social interactions and unfamiliar settings a challenge (so far he hasn’t let it effect his game play).
The Amazing Race works on several levels: there’s the team component (so many couples have used this show as a means of measuring whether their relationship can be successful), the scenery aspect (you’re guaranteed to see parts of the world you never would have known existed otherwise), and the sheer fun of the race (in classic Race tradition, we already had our first sprint to the elimination mat last night, where on-and-off daters Garrett and Jessica went home). All that plus the vicarious thrill of watching people eat wasabi bombs in Tokyo and knowing that you don’t have to. Put another stamp on my TV passport, please.
The hour opened with Dexter (Michael C. Hall, solid as ever) being severely off his game; baby Harrision is not sleeping well and it’s driving Dex nuts. In a hilarious Murphy’s Law-style reenactment of the series’ title sequence, Dexter is unable to squash the mosquito on his arm, his normally crisp white T-shirt has baby puke on it, and his shoelace breaks when he pulls it tight. If all this sounds like no big deal, remember that Dexter is a meticulous man; his continued freedom requires that everything be just so in order for him to get away with his acts of vengeance. Which is why it’s such a shock to see him screw up in court, mixing up case files and allowing a murderer to be released. Of course, all this means is that Dex has found his latest mark, and it couldn’t come at a better time. Firmly ensconced in the horrors of suburbia and family life, he’s been jonesing for a kill (Dex somehow equates murder with being there for his son, saying he’s “killing for two” now. Isn’t it amazing that we care so much for this guy who has such a deeply warped mind?)
It wouldn’t be Dexter if there weren’t a serial killer to track in between scenes of our loveable main character killing people of his own. This season, that killer is played by John Lithgow. We got two brief glimpses of Lithgow’s Trinity Killer last night, once when he created a literal bloodbath by killing a woman in her tub and again when he showered in scalding hot water. If there was a problem with the episode, it was these scenes. Gripping though they were, it was a strange shift in POV, since much of the show, especially the murders, is seen through Dexter’s eyes. Still, the marvelous Lithgow will no doubt devour this role, and his character’s presence brings back Keith Carradine as Agent Lundy, now retired from the FBI but determined to find the one that got away.
The episode ends with Dex so exhausted that he rolls his car after falling asleep at the wheel. While we know our “hero” will be fine, the real trouble lies in the fact that he was driving back from his kill site at the time, with several trash bags full of body parts in the back. How’s he gonna get out of this one? That’s the beauty of this show, which puts the mouse so close to the cat that the cat has no idea it’s even there.
Also back last night was CBS's The Amazing Race, returning for its 15th season fresh off another Emmy win. For the first time in Race history, a team was eliminated right off the bat during a ho-hum challenge in which the correct license plate had to be found on an entire wall filled with license plates. It’s hard to feel too bad for the team (Eric and Lisa, who decided that it was their fate to “set [the others teams] free” ) since we only knew them for about a minute before they were sent packing, but how depressing must it have been that their race began and ended in the L.A. River.
Outside of the usual assortment of married and dating couples, the remaining eleven teams have among them two Harlem Globetrotters who go by the names Flight Time and Big Easy; gay brothers Sam and Dan; and Zev & Justin, one of whom (Zev) has Asperger’s Syndrome, a form of high-functioning autism that makes social interactions and unfamiliar settings a challenge (so far he hasn’t let it effect his game play).
The Amazing Race works on several levels: there’s the team component (so many couples have used this show as a means of measuring whether their relationship can be successful), the scenery aspect (you’re guaranteed to see parts of the world you never would have known existed otherwise), and the sheer fun of the race (in classic Race tradition, we already had our first sprint to the elimination mat last night, where on-and-off daters Garrett and Jessica went home). All that plus the vicarious thrill of watching people eat wasabi bombs in Tokyo and knowing that you don’t have to. Put another stamp on my TV passport, please.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Bad Brothers, plus the Season's First Casualty
Fox’s annual competition to have the worst and most swiftly cancelled comedy (past “winners” have included Do Not Disturb and Happy Hour) continues this year with Brothers, created by sitcom veteran Don Reo, who has worked on everything from Blossom to My Wife and Kids to one of Fox’s most acclaimed comedies of the past decade, Action. (Arrested Development’s Mitchell Hurwitz is also an exec producer here, meaning he’s 0-2 this year since he was also responsible for another lame Fox entry, Sit Down, Shut Up.)
Brothers stars ex-NFL player Michael Strahan as ex-NFL player Michael Trainor, and paralyzed actor Daryl “Chill” Mitchell as his wheelchair-bound brother “Chill.” So far the originality is just spilling off the page, right? Since every black family needs a ball-busting mama, CCH Pounder steps in to fill that role. I can understand Pounder wanting a change of scene after all those years on the gritty The Shield, but this? Rounding out the cast is Carl Weathers as the somewhat clueless patriarch, though that obliviousness seems to stem from a nascent case of dementia. And the reason these people are all living under one roof again: Michael is broke and “Chill” needs help keeping his restaurant afloat.
Laughing yet? Neither was I. Most of the jokes in the first two episodes centered on either the gap between Strahan’s front teeth or Mitchell’s wheelchair. And when they weren’t making cracks about those things, there was plenty of awkward conversation about everyone’s sex lives. All four of the cast members—even Strahan, who is also a contributor to Fox’s NFL Sunday pregame show, is surprisingly comfortable in his first acting role—could be doing something much better with their time. Until this show’s inevitable cancellation, I know I’ll be doing something better with mine.
Speaking of cancellations, the new season’s first one came to pass yesterday as The CW let go of The Beautiful Life: TBL. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to watch the two episodes that aired yet, so I can’t offer a critical analysis of the show, but I can tell you that it brought in paltry ratings, with this week’s installment barely getting over a million viewers. I’m sure exec producer Ashton Kutcher will be just fine, but could this be a death knell for Mischa Barton’s career? For the time being, The CW will run encore episodes of Melrose Place in the Wednesday 9pm time slot (just what we need), as they try to drum up more business for that cellar-dwelling show prior to the November 17 episode in which Heather Locklear will reprise her role of Amanda Woodward. Why, Heather, why?
Brothers stars ex-NFL player Michael Strahan as ex-NFL player Michael Trainor, and paralyzed actor Daryl “Chill” Mitchell as his wheelchair-bound brother “Chill.” So far the originality is just spilling off the page, right? Since every black family needs a ball-busting mama, CCH Pounder steps in to fill that role. I can understand Pounder wanting a change of scene after all those years on the gritty The Shield, but this? Rounding out the cast is Carl Weathers as the somewhat clueless patriarch, though that obliviousness seems to stem from a nascent case of dementia. And the reason these people are all living under one roof again: Michael is broke and “Chill” needs help keeping his restaurant afloat.
Laughing yet? Neither was I. Most of the jokes in the first two episodes centered on either the gap between Strahan’s front teeth or Mitchell’s wheelchair. And when they weren’t making cracks about those things, there was plenty of awkward conversation about everyone’s sex lives. All four of the cast members—even Strahan, who is also a contributor to Fox’s NFL Sunday pregame show, is surprisingly comfortable in his first acting role—could be doing something much better with their time. Until this show’s inevitable cancellation, I know I’ll be doing something better with mine.
Speaking of cancellations, the new season’s first one came to pass yesterday as The CW let go of The Beautiful Life: TBL. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to watch the two episodes that aired yet, so I can’t offer a critical analysis of the show, but I can tell you that it brought in paltry ratings, with this week’s installment barely getting over a million viewers. I’m sure exec producer Ashton Kutcher will be just fine, but could this be a death knell for Mischa Barton’s career? For the time being, The CW will run encore episodes of Melrose Place in the Wednesday 9pm time slot (just what we need), as they try to drum up more business for that cellar-dwelling show prior to the November 17 episode in which Heather Locklear will reprise her role of Amanda Woodward. Why, Heather, why?
Friday, September 25, 2009
Community Gets an A
Whether or not you like NBC’s new sitcom Community hinges largely on one thing, namely how you feel about star Joel McHale. If you’re a fan of his smarmy antics on E!'s The Soup (I definitely drink that Kool-Aid), then you’re predisposed to enjoy this single-camera comedy awash in sarcasm. If, however, McHale’s mixture of arrogance and self-deprecation irks you, then this is probably not the show for you.
McHale plays Jeff Winger, an arrogant (though not quite self-deprecating) lawyer forced to go back to school after his degree is revoked. Jeff chooses to attend Greendale Community College, or as he calls it, a “school-shaped toilet.” It doesn’t take long for Jeff to happen upon Britta (Gillian Jacobs), a fellow student who, because of Jeff’s lies about being well-versed in Spanish, agrees to a study session with him. By the time that session comes around, the room is occupied by others looking to take advantage of Jeff’s alleged knowledge.
And so we have our ragtag bunch of characters, including the wonderfully deadpan Chevy Chase as Pierce, a moist towelette kingpin who is bad with names and thinks a “sausagefest” is a good thing; Troy (Donald Glover), stuck in a high school mentality to the point where he still wears his varsity jacket everywhere he goes; and Abed (Danny Pudi), a manic personality who communicates by using quotes and lessons learned from movies and TV shows.
Community is created by Dan Harmon (The Sarah Silverman Program) and has the duo of Joe and Anthony Russo (Arrested Development) among its exec producers, so it’s no surprise that the show is aggressively funny and that most of the jokes come at someone else’s expense. Like Arrested, it’s the kind of comedy that requires constant attention lest you miss the jokes; there’s no easy setup-setup-punchline approach here. The show is clearly influenced by the classic films of the late John Hughes, to whom the pilot was dedicated, and McHale is Judd Nelson, Matthew Broderick, and Steve Martin all rolled up in one big ball of sass.
Who knows if this is the kind of show that will be able to sustain itself for seasons on end. (Community college is usually a two-year program, but this group could definitely stretch things beyond that.) What I do know is that after last fall, which produced only one truly funny new sitcom (the unfortunately cancelled Worst Week, whose exec producers are also on staff here), Community is a welcome addition to the TV community.
McHale plays Jeff Winger, an arrogant (though not quite self-deprecating) lawyer forced to go back to school after his degree is revoked. Jeff chooses to attend Greendale Community College, or as he calls it, a “school-shaped toilet.” It doesn’t take long for Jeff to happen upon Britta (Gillian Jacobs), a fellow student who, because of Jeff’s lies about being well-versed in Spanish, agrees to a study session with him. By the time that session comes around, the room is occupied by others looking to take advantage of Jeff’s alleged knowledge.
And so we have our ragtag bunch of characters, including the wonderfully deadpan Chevy Chase as Pierce, a moist towelette kingpin who is bad with names and thinks a “sausagefest” is a good thing; Troy (Donald Glover), stuck in a high school mentality to the point where he still wears his varsity jacket everywhere he goes; and Abed (Danny Pudi), a manic personality who communicates by using quotes and lessons learned from movies and TV shows.
Community is created by Dan Harmon (The Sarah Silverman Program) and has the duo of Joe and Anthony Russo (Arrested Development) among its exec producers, so it’s no surprise that the show is aggressively funny and that most of the jokes come at someone else’s expense. Like Arrested, it’s the kind of comedy that requires constant attention lest you miss the jokes; there’s no easy setup-setup-punchline approach here. The show is clearly influenced by the classic films of the late John Hughes, to whom the pilot was dedicated, and McHale is Judd Nelson, Matthew Broderick, and Steve Martin all rolled up in one big ball of sass.
Who knows if this is the kind of show that will be able to sustain itself for seasons on end. (Community college is usually a two-year program, but this group could definitely stretch things beyond that.) What I do know is that after last fall, which produced only one truly funny new sitcom (the unfortunately cancelled Worst Week, whose exec producers are also on staff here), Community is a welcome addition to the TV community.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Bad Pun Alert: Vampire Kinda Sucks
While all involved will likely deny it, any similarity between The CW’s new drama The Vampire Diaries and True Blood (itself an imperfect show, to be sure) is almost certainly intentional. When your network is flailing, why wouldn’t you want to crib from what has become a cultural phenomenon? But if you add Twilight to the list as well, I think this is one vampire project too many.
Developed by Kevin Williamson (Dawson’s Creek) and Julie Plec (Kyle XY) from a series of books by L.J. Smith, Diaries tells the story of Elena Gilbert (Degrassi: The Next Generation’s Nina Dobrev), a high school student struggling with survivor’s guilt brought on by the deaths of her parents in a car accident months earlier, and Stefan Salvatore (Paul Wesley, who previously played a werewolf in the short-lived Wolf Lake), a vampire who, way back in 1864, was in love with a girl who looked exactly like Elena. Showing up to put a stake in Stefan’s romantic intentions and make good on his promise to create “an eternity of misery” for his sibling is brother Damon (Ian Somerhalder), a nasty vamp who tries to persuade Stefan to give up his self-imposed human feeding fast.
The teen drama clichés all put in early appearances: sex, drugs, rebellion, dead parents. And the vampire tropes are here, too: super hearing, the ability to seduce people into a kind of goofy submission (what True Blood calls glamouring), the need to be invited inside someone’s house, and oodles and oodles of moodiness. (Luckily for Stefan, the oldest-looking high school student this side of Ian Ziering, a special ring allows him and his brother to go out in the sun, otherwise he'd never be able to graduate.)
Maybe it just isn’t possible in 2009 for a vampire show to be anything but derivative, but couldn’t they at least try? I can appreciate the need to be faithful to the books, but if the show is to last for any stretch of time, the writers will eventually have to stray from their source material, just as Dexter has managed to do so deftly. Considering the ordinariness of events so far, it may have been wise to abandon the book's story from the outset.
What’s really missing from the show, though, is a little levity; everyone in this town is so deadly serious all the time. I guess it makes sense coming from the vampires since they’re, you know, dead (or is it undead?), but the teenagers should lighten up and have a little fun. Thankfully, the dialogue is more natural than the teens-can-use-big-words-too approach Williamson took with Dawson’s, but that doesn't mean anybody has anything all that interesting to say.
The scenes between Wesley and Somerhalder (looking like he’s having a better time here than he did on his single season of Lost, where his Boone was the first major character to die) have a certain dark pizzazz reminiscent of the good vamp/bad vamp dynamic between Bill and Eric on True Blood. But that energy dries up as soon as they leave each other’s company, and all we’re left with is a fairly dull soap opera in desperate need of some real bite.
Developed by Kevin Williamson (Dawson’s Creek) and Julie Plec (Kyle XY) from a series of books by L.J. Smith, Diaries tells the story of Elena Gilbert (Degrassi: The Next Generation’s Nina Dobrev), a high school student struggling with survivor’s guilt brought on by the deaths of her parents in a car accident months earlier, and Stefan Salvatore (Paul Wesley, who previously played a werewolf in the short-lived Wolf Lake), a vampire who, way back in 1864, was in love with a girl who looked exactly like Elena. Showing up to put a stake in Stefan’s romantic intentions and make good on his promise to create “an eternity of misery” for his sibling is brother Damon (Ian Somerhalder), a nasty vamp who tries to persuade Stefan to give up his self-imposed human feeding fast.
The teen drama clichés all put in early appearances: sex, drugs, rebellion, dead parents. And the vampire tropes are here, too: super hearing, the ability to seduce people into a kind of goofy submission (what True Blood calls glamouring), the need to be invited inside someone’s house, and oodles and oodles of moodiness. (Luckily for Stefan, the oldest-looking high school student this side of Ian Ziering, a special ring allows him and his brother to go out in the sun, otherwise he'd never be able to graduate.)
Maybe it just isn’t possible in 2009 for a vampire show to be anything but derivative, but couldn’t they at least try? I can appreciate the need to be faithful to the books, but if the show is to last for any stretch of time, the writers will eventually have to stray from their source material, just as Dexter has managed to do so deftly. Considering the ordinariness of events so far, it may have been wise to abandon the book's story from the outset.
What’s really missing from the show, though, is a little levity; everyone in this town is so deadly serious all the time. I guess it makes sense coming from the vampires since they’re, you know, dead (or is it undead?), but the teenagers should lighten up and have a little fun. Thankfully, the dialogue is more natural than the teens-can-use-big-words-too approach Williamson took with Dawson’s, but that doesn't mean anybody has anything all that interesting to say.
The scenes between Wesley and Somerhalder (looking like he’s having a better time here than he did on his single season of Lost, where his Boone was the first major character to die) have a certain dark pizzazz reminiscent of the good vamp/bad vamp dynamic between Bill and Eric on True Blood. But that energy dries up as soon as they leave each other’s company, and all we’re left with is a fairly dull soap opera in desperate need of some real bite.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
House Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Leave it to a guy like Dr. Gregory House to check himself into a mental hospital and then think he doesn’t belong there. That was the scenario last night on the sixth-season premiere of House, a two-hour episode that, regardless of your level of familiarity with the series, feels like a movie about a man who has seriously lost his way and, after a long, bitter struggle, wants to find it again. Aside from a brief appearance from Wilson (Robert Sean Leonard), none of the other series regulars show up here. There is no messy backstory, no references to what might be going on back at Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital. It's just House, his fellow patients, and the work they all need to do on themselves. (Among the most colorful characters we meet in the psych ward is House’s roommate Alvie, who likes to speak in spontaneous rap lyrics. He’s played by Lin-Manuel Miranda, bringing his hyper-effusive energy from Broadway’s In the Heights to the part.)
The episode, beautifully written and deliberately paced, is an exploration of House’s realization that he can’t always be the one to fix everything. In the words of his psychiatrist Dr. Nolan, played by Andre Braugher (Homicide: Life on the Street), House is “just another screwed up human being who needs to move on.” Nolan and House start out as bristly adversaries (Nolan refuses to write a letter that will give House back his hospital privileges, rightly believing he hasn’t taken his treatment seriously), later developing an understanding of one another, exemplified in a touching scene where Nolan invites House to the hospital room where his father lay dying.
During his stay, House takes an interest in Lydia (Franka Potente), a married woman who comes to play music for her catatonic sister-in-law. They share a connection unlike any we’ve ever seen in House’s world. For perhaps the first time, we see that House is capable of having a genuine conversation free of sarcastic defenses—he even confesses to having (gulp!) fun. A slow dance leads to sex leads to tears for House, allowing himself to express his feelings in a way he and Cuddy, who keep their cooped-up emotions in check, never truly have. All of this plays out quietly and organically as a step-by-step process; nothing is forced.
Because House wouldn’t be House if he was completely happy, Lydia leaves in the end (ironically, it’s House’s fault this happens as he’s responsible for finding the key to her sister-in-law’s condition—a music box she had been denied rights to makes her speak again; no longer tied down, Lydia and her family decide to move to Arizona), but instead of retreating into darkness, House goes to Nolan, proof that he has come along way. After his release, as House settles in for the bus ride back to civilization, he reflects on his experience, even displaying a slight smile on his face. It turns out there is a heart buried underneath that crusty exterior after all.
Hopefully this isn’t the last we’ve seen of Braugher. As anyone who’s ever been in treatment (to borrow the title of an HBO series) knows, mental breakthroughs happen over long stretches of time, and while the premiere was careful not to try to tie everything up too neatly, it would be a shame if House went back to work and settled comfortably into this old habits again. I don’t know how long a trip it is between Princeton-Plainsboro and Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital, but from this viewer's standpoint, it would certainly be worth the time.
The episode, beautifully written and deliberately paced, is an exploration of House’s realization that he can’t always be the one to fix everything. In the words of his psychiatrist Dr. Nolan, played by Andre Braugher (Homicide: Life on the Street), House is “just another screwed up human being who needs to move on.” Nolan and House start out as bristly adversaries (Nolan refuses to write a letter that will give House back his hospital privileges, rightly believing he hasn’t taken his treatment seriously), later developing an understanding of one another, exemplified in a touching scene where Nolan invites House to the hospital room where his father lay dying.
During his stay, House takes an interest in Lydia (Franka Potente), a married woman who comes to play music for her catatonic sister-in-law. They share a connection unlike any we’ve ever seen in House’s world. For perhaps the first time, we see that House is capable of having a genuine conversation free of sarcastic defenses—he even confesses to having (gulp!) fun. A slow dance leads to sex leads to tears for House, allowing himself to express his feelings in a way he and Cuddy, who keep their cooped-up emotions in check, never truly have. All of this plays out quietly and organically as a step-by-step process; nothing is forced.
Because House wouldn’t be House if he was completely happy, Lydia leaves in the end (ironically, it’s House’s fault this happens as he’s responsible for finding the key to her sister-in-law’s condition—a music box she had been denied rights to makes her speak again; no longer tied down, Lydia and her family decide to move to Arizona), but instead of retreating into darkness, House goes to Nolan, proof that he has come along way. After his release, as House settles in for the bus ride back to civilization, he reflects on his experience, even displaying a slight smile on his face. It turns out there is a heart buried underneath that crusty exterior after all.
Hopefully this isn’t the last we’ve seen of Braugher. As anyone who’s ever been in treatment (to borrow the title of an HBO series) knows, mental breakthroughs happen over long stretches of time, and while the premiere was careful not to try to tie everything up too neatly, it would be a shame if House went back to work and settled comfortably into this old habits again. I don’t know how long a trip it is between Princeton-Plainsboro and Mayfield Psychiatric Hospital, but from this viewer's standpoint, it would certainly be worth the time.
Monday, September 21, 2009
I'd Like to Thank the Academy
As trendsetting as TV can be, the Emmy Awards have never been especially good at leading the way in innovation. Two years ago, the show tried a theater-in-the-round approach, leaving half the audience starting at the winners’ backsides. And last year brought us the infamous five-reality-hosts-without-a-plan debacle. So the bar was set pretty low when it came to producing an Emmy broadcast that would outdo recent ceremonies. With so many repeat winners, it fell to the show itself to keep things lively.
What were this year’s innovations? The band and control room found their way onto the stage at L.A.’s Nokia Theatre, and the awards were handed out according to genre (comedy first, then reality, movies/miniseries, variety, and drama), much better than the scattershot pick-a-category-from-the-hat approach they seem to have taken in the past. But the biggest and best innovation was the show’s host. Following up his successful turn at the Tony Awards in June, Neil Patrick Harris (also a nominee for How I Met Your Mother) took to the stage with a terrific opening song that urged viewers to put down the remote. Unlike so many hosts who disappear for long stretches, Harris would remain on stage most of the evening, standing behind a podium to the side of the main action, introducing many presenters by calling out their most obscure credits. Harris was also a wonderful sport, playfully poking fun at himself after losing the Supporting Actor in a Comedy trophy to Two and a Half Men’s Jon Cryer.
As is too often the case with Emmy, when it came to the awards, there were not nearly enough surprises to go around. Kristin Chenoweth took the night’s first comedy award, going from tears to pimping herself out for work (she won for the cancelled Pushing Daisies) and back to tears. The rest of the comedy categories played out exactly as you’d expect, with 30 Rock dominating, taking home Emmys for writing, lead actor (Alec Baldwin), and series. (Toni Collette was able to break through and take lead actress for United States of Tara.)
I was a little put off by Tina Fey’s acceptance speech when Rock won Best Comedy for the third year in a row. “That was a nail biter,” she said when she hopped up on stage with her coworkers, as if we all knew they were going to win again. And let’s face it, we did all know, but it’s one thing to think you’re going to win, another to mock it as a foregone conclusion. If Fey has tired of all the accolades the show receives, perhaps someone should remind her that submitting yourself for consideration is optional and she’s welcome to sit it out next time around.
On the drama side, Mad Men took top honors, winning Best Drama for the second straight year, while the supporting acting races went to first-time winners Michael Emerson (Lost) and Cherry Jones (24), and the lead acting awards to repeat winners Glenn Close (Damages) and Bryan Cranston (Breaking Bad). With 30 Rock being such a prevailing comedic force, it was nice to see some deserved diversity with the dramas.
The Amazing Race remains undefeated in the Reality-Competition Program category, taking home its seventh (!) consecutive Emmy. Survivor’s Jeff Probst won again for reality host, taking a second to acknowledge the yeoman’s job Neil Patrick Harris was doing behind the mic, as did Jon Stewart when he accepted another trophy for The Daily Show (both men know from whence they speak; Probst was involved in last year’s much-maligned Emmy show, and Stewart was skewered after hosting the Oscars a few years back). HBO’s Grey Gardens was the biggest winner in the movie/miniseries categories, with wins for best movie, lead actress (Jessica Lange), and supporting actor (Ken Howard); PBS's Little Dorrit won Best Miniseries.
Sure, the awards themselves could have been more exciting, the acceptance speeches a bit more heart-tugging, and I could have done without the pop-up alerts designed to keep viewers tuned in by telling us that Justin Timberlake and the Gossip Girls would be on stage in six minutes (the one promoting the In Memoriam segment was particularly tacky). All in all, though, thanks largely to Harris—invite him back every year, Academy—it was a sufficiently pleasant way to spend the last night of the 2008-09 season.
What were this year’s innovations? The band and control room found their way onto the stage at L.A.’s Nokia Theatre, and the awards were handed out according to genre (comedy first, then reality, movies/miniseries, variety, and drama), much better than the scattershot pick-a-category-from-the-hat approach they seem to have taken in the past. But the biggest and best innovation was the show’s host. Following up his successful turn at the Tony Awards in June, Neil Patrick Harris (also a nominee for How I Met Your Mother) took to the stage with a terrific opening song that urged viewers to put down the remote. Unlike so many hosts who disappear for long stretches, Harris would remain on stage most of the evening, standing behind a podium to the side of the main action, introducing many presenters by calling out their most obscure credits. Harris was also a wonderful sport, playfully poking fun at himself after losing the Supporting Actor in a Comedy trophy to Two and a Half Men’s Jon Cryer.
As is too often the case with Emmy, when it came to the awards, there were not nearly enough surprises to go around. Kristin Chenoweth took the night’s first comedy award, going from tears to pimping herself out for work (she won for the cancelled Pushing Daisies) and back to tears. The rest of the comedy categories played out exactly as you’d expect, with 30 Rock dominating, taking home Emmys for writing, lead actor (Alec Baldwin), and series. (Toni Collette was able to break through and take lead actress for United States of Tara.)
I was a little put off by Tina Fey’s acceptance speech when Rock won Best Comedy for the third year in a row. “That was a nail biter,” she said when she hopped up on stage with her coworkers, as if we all knew they were going to win again. And let’s face it, we did all know, but it’s one thing to think you’re going to win, another to mock it as a foregone conclusion. If Fey has tired of all the accolades the show receives, perhaps someone should remind her that submitting yourself for consideration is optional and she’s welcome to sit it out next time around.
On the drama side, Mad Men took top honors, winning Best Drama for the second straight year, while the supporting acting races went to first-time winners Michael Emerson (Lost) and Cherry Jones (24), and the lead acting awards to repeat winners Glenn Close (Damages) and Bryan Cranston (Breaking Bad). With 30 Rock being such a prevailing comedic force, it was nice to see some deserved diversity with the dramas.
The Amazing Race remains undefeated in the Reality-Competition Program category, taking home its seventh (!) consecutive Emmy. Survivor’s Jeff Probst won again for reality host, taking a second to acknowledge the yeoman’s job Neil Patrick Harris was doing behind the mic, as did Jon Stewart when he accepted another trophy for The Daily Show (both men know from whence they speak; Probst was involved in last year’s much-maligned Emmy show, and Stewart was skewered after hosting the Oscars a few years back). HBO’s Grey Gardens was the biggest winner in the movie/miniseries categories, with wins for best movie, lead actress (Jessica Lange), and supporting actor (Ken Howard); PBS's Little Dorrit won Best Miniseries.
Sure, the awards themselves could have been more exciting, the acceptance speeches a bit more heart-tugging, and I could have done without the pop-up alerts designed to keep viewers tuned in by telling us that Justin Timberlake and the Gossip Girls would be on stage in six minutes (the one promoting the In Memoriam segment was particularly tacky). All in all, though, thanks largely to Harris—invite him back every year, Academy—it was a sufficiently pleasant way to spend the last night of the 2008-09 season.
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