Quarter-season television reviews

Don’t know if you’re aware, but the Lord of the Internets recently mandated that every American who owns a website or blog is required to write about their thoughts on the fall television lineup. Whitney wrote about it, Lindsay did as well … even MJD took a stab. And since I don’t want to lose my Internet Writer Card (which, incidentally, also comes with a Re-Virginized Card; let’s be real, we’re geeky folk), here is my submission to the cause.

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip

Studio 60’s series premiere was probably the best pilot I’ve seen since Arrested Development. It was fast-moving and intense, and suitably introduced almost a dozen characters without taking any shortcuts. 60 was far and away my most anticipated new show in the fall lineup.

Now, just a few weeks later, I’m bored to tears. Not only has the show fallen off its pedestal as my Most Anticipated, I don’t even know if I actually like it anymore. I’ve got a few reasons (none of which even begin to broach this week’s episode, which centered on a cast member’s visiting parents, war history and race relations. Fun!):

1. The Matt/Harriet relationship is ridiculous.

We all know the formula to a compelling on-screen relationship story: two people have a genuine spark, a roadblock stands in their way that threatens to ruin their potential coupledom, they eventually overcome, happily ever after, the end. It’s a tried-and-true recipe that’s been repeated in every romantic comedy since It Happened One Night.

The problem with the Matt & Harry relationship is that they’re already obviously perfect for each other. They’ve got this unmatchable chemistry, they charm the pants off each other, they’re both (allegedly) uber-talented, and they’re around each other every single day. The only “roadblock” is the silly fight that led to their initial breakup, which, after only five episodes has proven to be trivial at most. They’re going to be together. Everyone knows it. Prolonging that occurrence will have to involve silly, contrived issues that won’t matter in the long run anyway. In other words, more of the same. Great.

2. The cast members are boring.

If you were to pick the three most popular performers on each season of Saturday Night Live, dating back to the first season in ’75, would any of them be even remotely boring as Studio 60’s “Big Three”? I don’t believe that’s possible. These people are supposed to be hip, cutting-edge, intensely sharp. They’re, in effect, spokespeople for their generation.

But on 60, the performers are thirtysomething workaholics who enjoy lounging around the set discussing relationships over bottled water. Give me a goddamn break. I understand every show needs its Darryl Hammonds, its Julia Sweeneys … but they should be background filler, not the headliners.

Why DL Hughley’s character would spend more than thirty seconds discussing the Matt-Harry issue is beyond me. He has nothing else going on in his life? None of these people do? Hell, a tense on-again, off-again relationship wouldn’t even be the most interesting part of my work environment, and we’re a bunch of straight-laced Midwestern WASPs. Somehow, even my life is more exciting than the people on this show. That shouldn’t be the case. Something is wrong with this picture.

3. The show just isn’t funny.

Aaron Sorkin obviously knows dialogue … but he clearly has no handle on subversive comedy writing. Science Schmience? That sketch was so unfunny I was actually insulted.

Some people predicted a potential problem with Studio 60 is that the average viewer doesn’t care about the inner workings of a sketch comedy show. Luckily for those viewers, the show barely spends any time covering such issues. It is by and large a relationship drama taking place within an unfunny sketch comedy show apparently targeted to middle-aged folk. (Not to mention, I’m-also-not-a-big-fan-of-the-speed-in-which-the-characters-converse- because-it’s-tough-to-keep-up-and-no-one-talks-like-that-anyway.)

I’ll probably keep watching, but this show has been way more Leno than Letterman thus far.

Six Degrees

I gave this show a fair shake. Really, I did. But you can’t feature a character that shoots and kills a guy in one scene during a drug deal, then have him sit down at a neighborhood tavern to discuss relationships with his buddy – even toasting “to women!” at one point – in the next. No one on the planet can even begin to remotely identify with such a character. Done with Six Degrees.

Friday Night Lights

Apparently America’s thirst for stories about obsessive football towns is insatiable. Who knew. They got a book; they wanted more. They got a feature film; still not satisfied.

So now: an hour-long television show. It’s basically the same premise, same setting, same issues, same “man, the South is fuggin’ crazy” vibe. But, like, weekly! (Seriously, with the possible exception of MASH, I’m not sure this country has ever been so interested in one storyline. High school football. Go figure.)

For those of you who’ve missed the first few episodes, here’s a quick recap: the football-obsessed town gears up for a new high school season with a new coach. The coach is either pressured or threatened about winning by every last person he sees. The black tailback is – surprise! – a jive-talking egomaniac. The white trash fullback is – surprise! – a drunk. The stud quarterback is being recruited by schools across the country. The backup quarterback is some un-athletic twerp sophomore; because apparently there isn’t one junior or senior in the entire school who felt like trying out.

In the first game, the stud quarterback gets badly injured making a tackle. The backup goes from not knowing the playbook to throwing a game-winning desperation hail mary (even though the team was at the opponent’s 20-yard line at the time) for the victory. The backup QB’s father is in Iraq; the grandmother caring for him is senile. The black tailback messes around with the white fullback’s girlfriend. The stud quarterback discovers he’s paralyzed for life.

In game two’s halftime speech, the coach yells at the tailback, “YOU WANNNA DANCE WITH THOSE BOYS OUT THERE, YOU ASK THEM TO PROM!!!,” which is hilarious but probably isn’t supposed to be. The team loses by six after a QB scramble on the game’s final play comes up mere inches short (which would probably be the most intense ending in the team’s history, were it not for, um, week one). The coach and his daughter get threatened in public. A local businessman/booster recruits a Katrina refugee to replace the sophomore quarterback, offering his family a place to stay, a job, the whole shebang. The fullback drinks daily, breaks up with his slutty girlfriend, and then later walks out on practice. The tailback calls out his coach during a local news interview. The crippled former quarterback screams at his cheerleader girlfriend to leave him alone, so she goes and makes out with the fullback (the QB’s best friend), who was standing on the side of the road in the rain after the coach made him walk home from practice as punishment. The quarterback gets jumped by an opposing team outside the fast food joint he works at, and later tries hooking up with the coach’s daughter.

This all happens within the first few weeks of the season. Yeah, that’s plausible.

(Ah, but I’m just being dramatic. Truth is, the meticulous direction, top-notch cinematography and slice-of-life characters make for an above-average show. I just wish they’d ease up a bit on the drama. Still one of the best new shows this season.)

30 Rock

Related to Studio 60 only by its setting and numerical show title, 30 Rock is pretty much the antithesis in every other manner. Its dialogue is lighthearted, the jokes fast-and-furious, the mood cheerful. And surprisingly, I actually prefer 30 Rock. It just feels more genuine. I mean, it’s actually about the show, complete with the too-involved network bigwig (Baldwin), the crazy black comedian (Tracy Morgan, basically spoofing Martin Lawrence), the self-centered, self-appointed “star” (Jane Krakowski) and a whole team of goofy sketch writers. 30 Rock is exactly what I expected, only funnier.

One illustrative example: when Krakowski’s character overhears her boss and friend Liz Lemon call her “paranoid,” she responds by saying, “well, that just confirms my suspicions.” I don’t know if that joke’s clever or lazy, but it made me chortle, and I don’t really feel the need to dissect it any further. After all, this is television. The small box, the boob tube. And there ain’t nothing wrong with a sharp, snappy, breezy TV show to break up all the heavy. That’s the role 30 Rock plays for me.

Laguna Beach

I was sucked into the Laguna Beach universe during one of those dangerous weekend series marathons that coincided with me being sick as a dog and lying on the couch. So I pored through seasons one and two while fighting off a mean hangover. (Don’t act like this hasn’t happened to you.)

Season one was great and season two was decent, so I decided to give number three a Season Pass. And, it’s the worst season yet. By far.

The characters are mind-numbingly boring; what ever happened to the cattiness, to one-week relationships, to ludicrous melodrama, to obviously drunk teens doing hilariously embarrassing things…you know, the everyday behavior that marked my high school years? There’s nothing like that this season. Viewers are treated to conversations between the likes of Cameron and Jessica, who are unequivocally the dullest two human beings to have appeared on TV. I’ve seen more interesting banter between mannequins.

My Name is Earl

My Name is Earl isn’t flashy by any means, but it’s delivered a unique, oddball storyline week after week. Two weeks ago, the show was about circus folk (including Judy Greer as a bearded lady, which is wrong in so many ways). Last week, Randy dated a woman who treated him like a cat. The zany series has picked up where it left off last season, and my overall opinion of the show has fallen in line: not quite my favorite, never miss it.

The Office

I was a little bummed out about the Jim/Pam outcome during the first episode – I expected a lot more drama after a long-anticipated kiss than “I’m still gonna stay with my boyfriend” / “okay then, see ya around” – but the “Ed Truck” episode more than made up for it. One of the best episodes in the show’s two-plus years, hands down. It perfectly captured the show’s M.O.; ridiculous antics from Michael and Dwight, sarcastic side-comments from others, and a flawed-yet-heartfelt conclusion to the issue. Ryan’s statement of, “that story would take like an hour and a half to tell” was the funniest line uttered on television this year. At least in my household.

I’ll admit the show can be a bit too over-the-top at times, but I still find its lunacy and occasionally true-to-life office interactions highly entertaining. The Office remains my favorite show on primetime television.