What the hell, America? You had your chance to get rid of Kenny and his completely insane, student film quality movie-making, and you passed it up? I mean, sure, Marty was an obnoxious, derivative, style-over-substance, egotistical jackhole, but- hmm...okay, America. I can live with this choice. But get rid of Kenny the next chance you get, okay? Okay.
This week, we had two terrible films, one mediocre film, one pretty good film, and one really good film. Respectively, those films' makers were Jessica (formerly of the nonsensical lightbulb movie), Jason (formerly of the movie making fun of the developmentally disabled), Mateen, Will, and Zach (formerly of one of my favorites so far). So...yeah. I guess this episode was pretty predictable. The guest judge was Wes Craven, though, so that's pretty cool.
Let's start with Jason. BloodBorn attempted some sort of quasi-X-Files, quasi-religious plot, in which a drug addict goes to give blood, finds out his blood is a magical panacea that cures all disease, and then gets a gun aimed at him in a drive by. (Dramatically cut to black.) It was weird. And not just because there were these bizarre heavy breathing sound effects, so you thought his breath turned back time or something (since we knew it was supernatural). You have not redeemed yourself, Jason. Better luck next time...if there is a next time.
Also in the "better luck next time" category is Jessica, whom I think will be spared because she's cute. But you never know--America could surprise me. Her movie The Orchard was, in theory, a horror movie from the perspective of a tree. In practice, it was a movie of a guy pruning a tree, combined with shrieky sound effects and weird green "tree vision." Yeah.
Moving up the crap-o-meter, we have Mateen, who has presented a soap opera in five minutes with Lost. Boring, pointless, melodramatic, and bland. Poor Mateen. I really thought he had potential! However, while it wasn't good by any means, it also wasn't actively bad, like the previous two. So at least there's that.
Will's Glass Eye was actually pretty good, if somewhat gross. It's a clever idea about a guy who discovers, when his glass eye pops out, that he can see out of it if he covers up the empty socket. Yeah, gross, but pretty cleverly executed, like a cute little silent movie. As the judges point out, though, this is the second of his movies in a row with no dialogue.
The best of the night, as the judges unanimously agree, was Zach's Sunshine Girl, a quirky fantasy about a girl who's scared of the dark and plucks the sun out of the sky to hold, plunging the world into darkness. The effects are subtle but fantastic, and it's pretty much just a great little story. Way to go, Zach!
As that was the last group of five to go, next week will probably be an entirely different format, knowing this show. Can't say I'm excited to see what's next. Can we start kicking off three people per episode or something, guys? Let's wrap this business up and move on to House reruns, which I'm pretty sure we'll all enjoy much, MUCH more.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
On the Lot: Yawn.
'Traveler': Where there's a Will…
After weeks of only appearing for a few minutes at a time, in mysterious cameos or in flashbacks to his undercover days, Will Traveler finally came into his own this week, and I don't think it's a coincidence that Traveler picked up speed at the same time. Questions were answered about the Drexler bombing, the Conspiracy started to coalesce, and Will, I assume, has only just begun to kick some butt.
Last week, Will was kidnapped by the Conspiracy, and this week, we discover the reason: Will deviated from the plan when he refused to kill his buddies, and they want to know why. At first, I was ready to call this the world's softest interrogation, what with the tea and the cushy hotel room and the pleasant female questioner, but then Kate the interrogator pulled out a Taser, and I shut up. Things didn't really heat up, however, until Kate began asking about the painting – you know, the one Will tried to sell a couple of episodes back. She threatened to kill Maya unless he told the truth, and from that point on, it was shocking twist after shocking twist. They killed Maya! But it was a recording and Maya was already dead! Will broke free and killed Kate! The hotel was a stage! The car Will claimed the painting was in was a bomb! And somewhere in the middle of all this, Will became a fascinating character. He's smart, he's got his own agenda and now he's got a grudge against the Conspiracy. I can't wait to see what he does next.
Speaking of fascinating characters, the Porter made another brief appearance and made the most of his time. He calmly fessed up to planting trackers on Will and Tyler and explained to the guys that if the Conspiracy wanted Will dead, they would have just shot him and not bothered with the kidnapping. With just his few minutes on screen, the Porter managed to impart useful information, provide a cool counterpoint to Jay's and Tyler's squawks of consternation, save their lives and get them on their way to Boston in Will's car. Truly, his ruthless efficiency is a wonder to behold. Don't be a stranger, Porter. Once in Boston, Maya's key led the guys to a research locker containing the usual spy stuff – money, gun, fake passports – and the trail of breadcrumbs eventually pointed back in the direction of New York City.
Meanwhile, the FBI just started to catch on to the fact that they were dealing with a capital-C Conspiracy here. A DNA match on the body from the Drexler tipped them off that Will wasn't dead and led them to the bleached-blond Conspiracy guy who stole Kim's photos a couple of weeks ago. It's a struggle to keep the FBI scenes relevant when the whole point is that the agents are two or three steps behind the audience, but a combusting mattress ought to do it; that was how the Bleached-Blond Conspiracy Guy managed to escape from custody. I hope this means that the FBI starts to look into the Conspiracy and leaves Jay and Tyler alone for a while, because I've never had much patience with that line of inquiry. After all, we already knew they didn't do it.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
A weird and wonderful night on 'America's Got Talent'
It was a night for strange acts on America's Got Talent.
Of course the Chicago auditions had its share of the usual dancers and singers, but there are other shows for those talents. To see the truly weird, you've got to come here, and if you did, you didn't come away disappointed. There were plenty of acts that sounded, at first blush, like they would be awful, and some of them were: the banjo-playing Tuvan throat singer and the guy who broke stuff with his butt were prime examples. I do have to admit that I didn't hate the woman whose music combined – this is true – Gregorian chant, gospel, and blues. From a purely academic standpoint, it was fascinating, but this is not America's Got Esoteric Talent. Besides, it wasn't really good music, for all its inventiveness.
But there were a few acts that were much better than they sounded. The Fault Line, an acapella rock group, and the 2nd Story Guys, a dance troupe on stilts, easily exceeded expectations and turned in some great performances. They were the kind of acts that America's Got Talent was made for – fun, original, and totally incapable of fitting in anywhere else. They're the ones I watch this show to see, because where else are you going to see a suprisingly cool act on stilts?
As for controversy, well, there was a little of that, too. Perhaps taking his cue from Sharon's and Piers' walkout of a couple of weeks ago, the Hoff left the stage in a huff to protest the other judges giving a pass to Boy Shakira. Since Boy Shakira was not one of those acts that was better than it sounded (it was exactly the way it sounded), I'm on David Hasselhoff's side on this. I honestly don't know what Sharon and Piers were thinking. Look, Boy Shakira was a sweet kid, and charmingly delusional as opposed to sadly delusional, which, in itself, is refreshing. But he had no business getting through. And I don't feel bad about saying no to him, because his mom is proud of him, and that makes him really lucky. Really, really lucky.
My favorite acts of the night:
- Butterscotch, a beatboxer. She was lucky enough to audition in the Year of the Beatboxer, but even without Blake Lewis to blaze the trail, Butterscotch would be through, no problem. She had perfect timing and good vocals. Will the Blake Effect carry her through to the finals?
- Cas, a singer who performed "Walking on the Moon" better, according to Piers, than Sting. Since singers always have an edge, he'll be one to watch.
- Sideswipe, a martial arts/acrobatics group. They performed some amazing stunts, and it certainly didn't hurt matters that the group was composed entirely of buff young guys.
- Terry, a ventriloquist, who complained in his pre-audition interview that, after all his years of hard work, America still didn't know his name. At home, I was starting to think that there was a reason for that, possibly tied to the fact that no one likes ventriloquists. But his act, in which his puppet belted out "At Last" in true Etta James fashion, actually wasn't bad. In fact, it was – dare I say it – good. And he even got in a nice Ashlee Simpson lip-synching joke. Congratulations, Terry, for breaking down my prejudices concerning ventriloquists.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
'Britain's Got Talent'? Rather!
You might not have realized this, but Britain does occasionally steal show ideas from the U.S. It's rare, but it happens. Case in point: Britain's Got Talent, the spinoff which did in nine days what America's Got Talent stretches out over three months. (I have to say, I like the way the British do things.) Anyway, the British version had its finale this past Sunday night, and the winner was, of all things, an amateur opera singer. Sounds suspect, I know, but Paul Potts brought the house down when he auditioned with Nessun Dorma. Just watch.
So, between watching that video and watching this season of America's Got Talent, I'm wondering: where's our Paul? Cat circuses and acrobats and dance troupes are all very well, and there have been a few good singers, but nothing quite so inspiring and surprising. I suppose last year's winner, the young, big-voiced Bianca Ryan, was a comparable surprise, but we have yet to see anything like that this season. Not to say that we won't; we're not out of the audition phase yet, after all, and Hasselhoff isn't done sniffing out talent. But I'm ready for our own Paul Potts, that one act that will show up and set these auditions on fire.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Age of Love: Why, Mark? Why?
Age of Love, NBC's "great social experiment," is essentially a giant forum which perpetuates stereotypes of older and younger women under the guise of shattering those stereotypes. It is complete and total trash, and my heart goes out to every 40something contestant involved in this humiliating exercise. Okay, now that I've been a responsible feminist and gotten that out of the way, we can get to the dirt.
The show features Mark Philippoussis, an Australian tennis player and total hottie. (Yeah, FYI, I'm an enormous tennis fan and have had a crush on Mark Philippoussis since, like, forever. He's even cuter in person, in case you were wondering.) His tennis career peaked in the late 90's before being hampered by injury. He made a comeback back in 2003, but hasn't really been in the picture in the past couple seasons aside from a couple wildcard entries and early losses, contrary to the show's claim that he's "at the prime of his career." NBC has it right that he's a playah with the ladies, though--he supposedly cheated on his girlfriend with Paris Hilton! All of that said, I'd still claw any of these chicks' eyes out for a chance with Mark. The accent! The body! The great seats at tennis tournaments! Sure, people might mock our 1-foot-plus height difference, but Mark and I would just laugh it off. ...Ahem. Anyway. According to NBC, Mark "has everything...except someone to share his life with." (And two working knees and an active tennis career.) Apparently, Mark is looking for his future wife--the mother of his children. Riiight.
And now, we meet the contestants in their 40's. Ranging from 39 (heeey, waitaminute!) to 48, and with varying levels of plastic surgery, the ladies are all relieved that there are no "teenyboppers" present. The interviews are somewhat horrifying. Every single one is like, "I'm successful, happy, awesome in every way, and I love my life, but...OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO DIE CHILDLESS AND ALONE! MY OVARIES ARE DRYING UP AS WE SPEAK! HEEELP MEEE!!!" The stench of desperation, it is pungent.
Mark says he's always dated younger women. In fact, the last woman he dated was ten years younger than he is. So if he's thirty, and didn't just break up with her...the last woman he dated was a teenager? Right. Moving on. As the show repeatedly emphasizes, Mark would prefer "younger women in their 20's." I smell trouble! Or is that just the stench of desperation still lingering in the air?
One-by-one, on a romantic...rooftop at night...the women introduce themselves to Mark. Lynn, a 40-year-old makeup artist, is pretty cute. Mark seems a little thrown when she tells him she's 40. God, this is going to be painful. Kelli, a legal assistant, is also 40, and at least brings up the term "biological clock" in an interview in the context of hating it. Still, somehow I don't think that's the last we're going to hear of biological clocks. Jayanna, a 39-year-old mortgage officer, seems very nice. Jodie, a 46-year-old VP, looks way younger than her age, and Mark is very gracious and sweet about it. However, he's beginning to see a pattern.
Maria, a 42-year-old photographer, points out the stigma of an older woman dating a younger guy, and says "if the men can do it, I'm gonna do it." Right on, Maria. Angela's up next, a 40-year-old property manager. She married young, and is now divorced. She looks really young and sweet—more natural than some of the others. Mark is totally sweating. Jennifer, an assistant to the Lakers’ owner, asks Mark to guess her age. DANGER! DANGER!!! After an uncomfortable few moments of hemming and hawing, Mark guesses 37…too young, Mark! Keep it believable. Jennifer is 48. And has been under the knife a little, I’d imagine. She asks if he’d like to date an older woman, and he reflexively says yes as his eyes widen, his eyebrows raise, and beads of sweat practically drip down his forehead. Poor guy. This is how god punishes playahs and Paris Hilton-doers.
Mark sits down with the girls next to a fire…on the roof…and admits to them that they weren’t quite what he was expecting. He looks incredibly uncomfortable as they unsuccessfully try to put him at ease. He sits down for one-on-ones (and sometimes one-on-twos) with some of the women. Some have been married, some have kids—Angela has been married twice, and has a 21-year-old son. Kelli is pretty sure that she’s got the upper hand here, and repeats the bit about Angela’s grown child in the guise of a compliment ("She SO doesn't look young enough to have a 21-year-old!"), just to rub it in. Yeah, now that hottie’s in sight, there’s a little less camaraderie. Funny how that works. Kelli isn’t happy to be sharing “the guy [she’s] supposed to be dating.” Um, yeah...does she not understand how these dating shows work? Because she may be in for a bit of a disappointment if she thinks it supposed to be all "Kelli and Mark going on a picnic!" "Kelli and Mark taking a walk on the beach!" "Kelli and Mark eating dinner by candlelight!"
Mark says he's starting to think seriously about dating an older woman (albeit one that looks like a plastic version of a younger woman, if these are the choices) as he gets to know the contestants. He specifically mentions clicking with Maria. By the end of the interview, he calls age “a number,” and is looking forward to getting to know the women better. But then, um, other Mark (Could we not find a host with a different name from the contestant, NBC?) comes in and spoils the fun—apparently not all the women will get to go on a date with Mark before the first elimination. Gasp! Horrified faces all around! Well, they would be horrified if they weren’t all so botoxed, anyway.
Mark and Mark sit down for a one-on-one. Host Mark tells Mark that he’ll find out on the first date which women can keep up with him, before having to eliminate one of them. Mark calls for Jayanna, and invites she, Lynn, and Maria out on a date. He throws out a bunch of phony reasons why he picked each of them in his interview, but they’re clearly the youngest-looking of the bunch. Mark is looking for someone adventurous, and what better way to determine that than a date in which they…rappel down the side of a building? O...kay. I though they were going to be sky diving or something. However, this is going to be particularly rough on Jayanna, who is afraid of heights.
Meanwhile, the slut-copter is making its way to the house, and is filled with shrieking, egotistical, mean, scantily-clad 20-somethings. As a fellow 20-something female, I feel my kind is not being well-represented.
Back to the rappelling. The 40-somethings seem pretty nervous. It actually looks like mad fun to me, but I guess that’s why I’m a 20-something, right? Maria has a good time with it while Jayanna watches on, looking like she’s about to puke. Lynn is a bit of a scaredy cat about it, but nothing like Jayanna, who is panicking. You know, if she doesn’t take it too far, this could work in her favor—the whole “brave but vulnerable angle,” overcoming obstacles because she wants him sooo bad. She ends up having a good time with it, and (as predicted) Mark is impressed. In the end, he’s impressed with all of them, and he’s learned “not to judge a book by its cover.” He says that age has been “thrown out the window.” Cut to…
The 20somethings hula-hooping in bikinis at their new digs. Well, no one can say this show doesn’t accurately represent the two age groups. I was just doing some bikini hula-hooping this very evening, right before my naked trampolining. And cut to… The 40somethings cleaning and doing needlepoint. Jesus H. Christ. As an added detail, the 20something apartment is trendy and colorful, while the 40something apartment is pretty much entirely white and pale blue. Subtlety, thy name is NBC.
Mark and the women prepare for the first elimination. Mark calls the 40something digs, and asks to see Angela, Lynn, Jodie, and Jayanna. He’s really nice about the age thing when they all get up on the roof, admitting that it threw him for a loop, but saying they made him feel so comfortable that it’s “completely out of [his] mind.” He talks to Angela first (who is wearing a dress that’s shorter than I would feel comfortable in, by the way, which I feel only emphasizes that she's a 40-year-old trying to look 18), saying that she seemed a bit shy the night before. However, he asks her to stay. Lynn’s on the chopping block next, and Mark asks about a heart necklace she was wearing during the date. O..kay. He also asks her to stay. He talks to Jodie next, and says that while he really enjoyed their one-on-one conversation, he’s feeling more of a friend vibe with her. Ouch. She gets the cut. Now her dress, I love. He still calls Jayanna up in order to tell her that she blew him away on their date, and asks her to stay. Jayanna may be an evil master of dating show strategy. I picture her in the basement, feverishly watching The Bachelor on DVD while bathing in collagen-firming cream and stem cells.
Mark repeats that he doesn’t care anymore that the contestants are in their forties, and have ovaries that are desiccating by the minute. Thanks, NBC! The twist would have really lost its impact without that last anvil. Then, just before the end of the episode, Host Mark shows up to break the news that (Dun dun DUUUUNNN) …there are young, hot babes in the house! Next week: The 40somethings react to their young, hot competition.
Season four is extra crispy on 'The 4400'
Previously on The 4400: Season one was excellent. Season two was good, too.
Season three was… well, season three was kind of like a test paper on which the writers kept changing their answers. The future second-guessed itself and started messing with the returnees. Alana went on the run and came back unobtrusively a few weeks later. Diana broke up with Marco because she wasn't ready to commit, but put up only token resistance when her precog daughter pointed out her future husband. (Poor Marco. His only crime was being cute and dorky. Of course, ask Greg Sanders and George O'Malley what that'll get you on a drama.) But it's another summer and another season, and I'm ready to see what season four brings.
Interestingly, it seems that season four is coming back around to season one. Once again, we had the cousin in a coma, but this time it was Shawn, and Kyle brought him out with a shot of promicin. And, with promicin now available to the public, the show is introducing us once more to people just discovering their abilities – people Marco dubbed "extra crispies," as in, "not original recipe." This week's extra crispy was Graham, a high school kid who turned his school, and then the city, into his own personal cult. Since this was what got me into the show in the first place – people discovering abilities, adjusting to them, and changing the lives of people around them – I'm glad to see the show go back to basics, or, at least, a tweaking of its original recipe.
As for Jordan Collier, he just gets more intriguing. His guilt over all the deaths caused by promicin was perfectly in character, but also a departure from the confident, almost mystical Jordan that we usually see. And, at long last, he showed an ability: he can neutralize the promicin in extra crispies, as he did with Graham. It only makes sense; like Jordan said, "I gave you promicin, I can take it away." Kind of puts a damper on his promise that everyone can have it, if he can strip anyone of their new powers, but it keeps him powerful and relevant, and I'm all for keeping Jordan in the game.
There were also a couple of new characters to contend with, like NTAC's new head, Meghan Doyle, a woman with a taste for Fellini and, like Tom, a certain disregard for protocol. I think she'll be fun. Then there's Cathy, who knows an awful lot about Kyle and the 4400 story, and who suggested that Kyle use promicin on Shawn. Naturally, she wasn't the art student she pretended to be, and I'm sure she'll turn up again soon.
All in all, it was a promising start to the new season. I'm intrigued, I have questions (like what Alana is doing in a painting from 1885), and the promise of more extra crispies has only whetted my appetite.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Flight of the Conchords: Check it out. Now.
If you find the following lyrics funny, you will probably enjoy HBO's newest comedy, Flight of the Conchords. The scene: a guy trying to hook up with a girl at a party.
You're so beautiful
Like a dream
Or a high-class prostitute
You're so beautiful
You could be a part-time model
But you'd probably still have to keep a normal job
Amused? Then read on. Flight of the Conchords centers around Bret and Jemaine, two New Zealanders who make up the "digi-folk" duo Flight of the Conchords (both in real life and on this show). The show is fictional, and follows Bret and Jemaine around as they try to make it big in New York. So far, they have a needy band manager whose full-time job is at the New Zealand Consulate, and one married super-fan who walks around with Bret's picture on her t-shirt.
Every so often, Bret or Jemaine will start expressing their hilarious, hilarious thoughts in song. Some of you may find it off-putting for characters to sing randomly on the street, but trust me--the fact that the guys are in a band and the songs are hysterical makes it work. (Although full disclosure: I'm a huge musical theatre fan, so I may have a higher "bursting into song" tolerance than most of the world.) In the first episode, Jemaine tries to date Bret's ex-girlfriend, Bret makes a hair helmet (exactly what it sounds like), and the band makes a music video:
Most comedies take a few episodes before they can really crack me up, because I need to have a better feel for the characters and for the type of humor than I can get within 30 minutes (plus, most comedies take a few episodes to really hit their stride). Flight of the Conchords is not most comedies. I was laughing out loud as soon as Jemaine started singing his first song, and pretty much kept laughing until the end credits. If you love Scrubs and hate Two and a Half Men, Flight of the Conchords may be the show for you. Find out Sunday at 10:30 on HBO, or watch it online now.
(And if you want to see more of Jemaine, check out Eagle vs. Shark, which is apparently New Zealand's answer to Napoleon Dynamite.)
Friday, June 15, 2007
Top Chef: Bite-sized thoughts
Just a few random thoughts about the Top Chef season premiere:
- Sandee Birdsong? Any relation to Mary Birdsong?
- My favorite chef right now: CJ. He's funny, he's competent, and he's very tall. I think he could easily turn the tables on Tom Colicchio during one of his walkthroughs and intimidate him, because CJ's probably got a foot on him, and Tom's got it coming.
- Loved the first challenge, the exotic surf and turf. Loved even more that they had geoduck. Thanks to Mike Rowe, I have a healthy appreciation for the mollusk, and I know how to pronounce it.
- Tre's prize for winning the first challenge: an invitation to get "savage drunk" with Anthony Bourdain. That in itself is a little alarming, but then Bourdain hauls out a stack of his collected works, all signed, and suddenly I'm powerfully reminded of Gilderoy Lockhart. Not that I'm saying that Anthony Bourdain is skilled at memory charms and is taking credit for other people's food experiences.
- Where was Ted? Ted makes everything better. Sure, Bourdain is entertaining, claiming, as he does at one point, that he would have to be drunk to enjoy a chef's dish. (I'm sensing a theme to Bourdain.) But… I was promised Ted Allen, dammit.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Studio 60: "Fast" is a relative term
Tonight on Studio 60, exactly two things happened: Jordan's baby was delivered by c-section, and Simon ranted at the press. Now, seeing as those things happened in the first five minutes and last five minutes of the episode, respectively, you probably could have safely gone for take-out in the middle without missing anything. Despite Danny's grammatically suspect claim that "things are moving fast tonight." Oh, Sorkin. You fill me with hope only to dash it cruelly with flashbacks and, well, longer flashbacks.
However, I will concede that this week's episode was slightly less West Wing-wannabe than last week's sad installment. You know, aside from all the stuff about Afghanistan, censorship, and the meaning of patriotism. Methinks Sorkin is still a little raw from The West Wing being criticized for being anti-American after the war started. Which, fair enough, but work out your issues on your own time, Sorkin--I came here to watch a dramatic version of 30 Rock!
So yes, part two of three episodes (don't get me started) found Tom's brother still captive in Afghanistan, and Mike from Las Vegas acting as Chief Army Comforter/Stonewaller. Matt's still working with the hot lawyer on a cockamamie ransom scheme. That is, when he's not having acid flashbacks about his first, failed experiment as Studio 60's showrunner. Way back in the day, you see, back when we were only at war with one Middle Eastern country, Matt and Danny went up against NBS and Jack Rudolph in an attempt to get political on Studio 60 about the war in Afghanistan. And (spoiler alert!) I don't think it's going to end well for Matt and Danny's jobs. You know, in the past. Where we already know what happens. Can't you at least try and keep it interesting, Sorkin? Sigh.
Things are somewhat more involving at the hospital, where an unconscious Jordan is having clotting issues after her c-section. I actually enjoyed some of the scenes between Danny and Jordan's doctor, which is probably more a testament to Bradley Whitford's mad acting skillz than anything else. But seriously, are they going to kill off Jordan? I mean, I know the show's cancelled and all, so it's a moot point, but Jordan is part of this show's Tremendous Trifecta (the three great characters that make up for any number of evils elsewhere in the show--Harriet and Cal are the other two). Don't make it a Tremendous Pair, Sorkin! I wouldn't worry, but the whole "Don't let Danny get attached to his baby, since Jordan's totally going to die and he'll never see that baby again" thing has me concerned, given this show's track record for subtlety and surprise.
Will Mark Jeter survive Afghanistan? Will Jordan survive childbirth? Will Simon survive the angry paparazzi? Will Liz survive another episode? Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion of this three-parter.
Hidden Palms: Alcoholic girls just wanna have fun
Last night on Hidden Palms, we finally got some answers. Sort of. It seems Johnny's mysterious online stalker is none other than his mysterious real life stalker, Liza! Liza, by the way, is all kinds of awesome. And is apparently trying to get Johnny to stay away from Greta and Cliff by warning him about what happened to Eddie. And what did happen to Eddie, you ask? He was (pause for effect) MURDERED!!!1! OMG 4realz. (Yeah, the big reveal isn't quite as dramatic on IM.)
We still don't know what Greta and Cliff did last summer--just that whatever happened was terrible enough that she wants it to stay secret. Wants it badly enough to break up with Johnny to protect him from it. Or something. I'm actually guessing she realized that he's a nosy twerp, but whatever. So...they're never going to have sex? I'm just sayin', Falcon Beach does a way better job of hooking its characters up, and it's on ABC Family. This is the CW, for godsakes! I demand trashy summer fare! Anyway, Greta keeps watching this video of Eddie in which he is clearly troubled by some sort of deep dark secret. Oh, and Eddie and Cliff were pranksters to the extreme. Hmm.
Cliff's character is becoming more fleshed-out, if by "more fleshed-out," you mean, "more and more like a gay sociopath." He's moved on from puppy-kicking to alcoholic-enabling, completely ignoring Johnny's wishes that he stay away from Nikki. He also gets into it with his mom's young football-playing stud of a boyfriend. Which, fair enough, the dude's clearly a gold-digging asshole. But yeah, Cliff? Clearly a troubled young fellow.
Nikki, for her part, goes out in a blaze of drunken glory, hosting a crazy party at Johnny's house and then sorrowfully hiking out of Palm Springs to parts unknown. Why is it that on these types of shows you can throw together an out-of-control kegger in the space of an hour, with random attractive partygoers arriving from all over the county? (The county that is full of nothing but old people waiting to die and windmills, if the pilot episode and opening credits are to be believed.) Is there some sort of hot teen phone tree? A Bat-Signal shaped like a cheerleader doing a keg stand, shining from the party's location? A Palm Springs Paul Revere, riding around on a golf cart shouting, "A party is coming! A party is coming!"?
So, will Leslie Jordan be back next week? Will Greta be even blonder and thinner? Will the show become any less crappy? Will any of this matter, since the show is being cancelled, anyway? Tune in and find out, since the CW is burning off two episodes per week until the Independence Day finale!
Traveler: Making great time
Already we've reached the fourth episode of Traveler, and somehow it has only been 44 hours since the museum explosion. Jay and Tyler must be covering ground in New England as fast as Jack Bauer does in L.A., and they don't even have a helicopter. They've gone from New York City to upstate New York to New Haven, and now, they're in Maine, searching for Will in his hometown. Or is it?
Well, it would make sense if it was, because the town, from what I saw, was entirely populated by shady characters. There was Maya, the owner of the bookshop "Have Books – Will Travel" (Get it? Huh?), Will's sometime girlfriend and co-conspirator, who confided a mysterious key into Jay and Tyler's safekeeping before getting captured by the Conspiracy. There was a man calling himself Daniel Taft, who tried to blow the boys up. Naturally, this involved the guys escaping at the last moment and running away from the big explosion behind them. I mean, come on. The show couldn't call itself a thriller if nobody ran away from an explosion, right?
And finally, there was the Porter, making his triumphant return. For me, this guy is the most interesting character on the show, because, as far as we know, he's playing on his own side. He's not part of the Conspiracy, he's not in league with the feds, and he's not officially allied with Jay and Tyler. The show has been very smart to keep the Porter's appearances to a minimum, except that it's made me care less about "Who is Will Traveler?" and more about "Who is the Porter?" There have been so many conspiracies, on so many shows, that it's refreshing to see a shadowy character who's not involved in one.
Since we're halfway through Traveler's run already, it's time for the show to start giving us some answers. Although in the case of one of them, I had forgotten that a question existed in the first place. The big mistake in Agent Marlow's past: she "got soft on a suspect" and another agent died. I can see where this is bad, but if it really bothered her – or if the experience had really changed the way she treated suspects – she wouldn't be the only one at the FBI expressing misgivings about all the mounting "evidence" against Jay and Tyler. Even when the FBI was confronted with an internet video that was supposed to show Tyler, in a variety of places and at clearly different times, delivering a single manifesto, Marlow was the only one who had any concerns about it. And while I appreciate the fact that not everyone at the FBI is blindly accepting the evidence that the Big Frame-Up is putting in front of them, these Marlow/Chambers "with all due respect, sir, you're wrong" scenes are getting old. In fact, it may be the same scene each week. I'll have to check on that.
In the final moments of the episode, Jay and Tyler finally got a glimpse of Will, very much not dead, and, it appears, having done a subtle something to his hair, at a train station. But a train went by just then, of course, blocking Jay and Tyler's view (curse you, trains, for always hiding important things from view!) and allowed the Conspiracy time to hustle Will into a sinister white van.
From the previews, it looks as though we'll finally start to hear from Will himself, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. Yes, the show is all about discovering the truth about Will, but I think Will is effective as a mostly unseen presence, the few flashbacks colored by his later betrayal, and his motives unclear.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
On the Lot: Overcoming the boredom
It seems like most of America (aside from five or so apparently tasteless morons) has dealt with the immense boredom that is On the Lot by not watching it. Fair enough, America. I, on the other hand, have committed to watching this piece of garbage show for as long as possible. Thus, I will deal with the boredom by recapping through limerick. That's right, bitches--limerick. Here we go! First, the five films shown last night:
There once was an aspiring Scorsese
Whose music choice was pretty lazy
His talent was clear
Though it was no Cape Fear
But his main character was freaking crazy
There once was a random contender
Whose films I just could not remember
His nerds were too cute
Don’t give him the boot
Though his chances of winning seem slender
There once was a guy with bad hair
Whose films were more than I could bear
He thinks he’s so deep
Making all of us weep
How could he be so unaware?
There once was a braggart named Marty
Who thought he was so very arty
Thought his green film had style
It made no one smile
Now he could be leaving the party
There once was a talented dame
Whose son’s acting is no claim to fame
Her writing was funny
Films with sex make money
So she may be ahead of the game
In case you couldn't tell from my mad rhyming skillz, my favorites (in order) were Shira-Lee's Beeline and Andrew's Polished. My least favorites were Kenny's Edge on the End and Marty's Dance with the Devil. Moving on to the results...
There once was a chick with no class
Whose “comedies” really sucked ass
Her film was so crude
I actually booed
But America gave her a pass
There once was a cutie named Trever
Whose golf film was a little clever
He got voted out
Which just made me pout
Given Hilary’s awful endeavor
Yes, America kept the woman whose character peed on a bus (no, I can't get over it--and her last film was no great shakes, either), and eliminated the guy with a derivative but passable latest film and a legitimately decent comedy short. Sigh. Here's hoping that Kenny's angsty student film finally gets him booted next week!
Playing nice on America's Got Talent
The judges were awfully nice this week, weren't they?
After Piers Morgan's harsh criticism of the younger contestants on America's Got Talent sent Sharon Osbourne running backstage last week, it was a relief to see the judges being so kind to everyone at the Los Angeles auditions. Well, mostly everyone; there was the usual assortment of oddball acts that earned criticism, including an electric violin-playing set of twins who got some of the worst treatment of the night. They were stopped once, and protested that they hadn't gotten to the singing part yet. So the judges allowed them to continue, and cut them off just as they opened their mouths to sing.
Aside from that, however, the judges were mostly positive. On one occasion, David Hasselhoff is even affectionate, going onstage to hug Chinese acrobat Liang after she starts to cry. Piers, Sharon, and the Hoff put through most of the acts that we saw, including a few borderline acts, like Michael the music teacher and Ivan the "Urban Action Figure." Those acts probably won't make it much further, but they can thank the supportive audience, and the goodness of the judges' hearts, for giving them a chance at Las Vegas.
Meanwhile, I find myself really liking Jerry Springer as the host. He's certainly got perfect comic timing (remember last week when he brought out the baby just as Piers was complaining there were too many family members on stage?) and it seems like he befriends everyone backstage, from the auditioners themselves to their families. It's almost surprising to see how invested he gets in how the contestants fare, cheering when they're put through and yelling encouragement from the side of the stage when the judges waver. He goes so far as to take his shirt off in support of a male bellydancer. It doesn't work, but it was a courageous try nonetheless.
Some of my favorite acts of the evening:
- Cinda: You've seen her in the promos for weeks; she's the singer who says that it would mean "everything" for her to advance in the competition. She's a mom, trying to support her kids and go after her dream, and she sings "One Night Only" to great effect. You'll be seeing a lot of her.
- Popovich Comedy Pet Theater: Not only is this act different – a sort of cat circus, where the felines climb poles, jump through hoops, and scurry across balance beams on their front paws – but the man in charge gets big ups from me for training cats to do all this. Not to mention saving them from shelters.
- Johnny Come Lately: They're a rockabilly band composed entirely of 15-year-olds, and they give a high-energy performance of "Hound Dog." First fast, then slow, then fast again, and before you know it, everyone's jumping on the big double bass, including the bassist himself. I can't wait to see more of them.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
The Tony Awards: Totally F______
I was out of town Sunday night when the Tony Awards aired on CBS, and finally watched them last night after a self-imposed day-long media blackout. (I like to be surprised!) Although this is a TV blog, I would first like to give a giant shoutout to Spring Awakening for winning, um, practically everything. It's awesome--go see it. And if that's not enough for you, just ask Zach Braff, who introduced their performance at the Awards.
However, I wouldn't be me if I didn't find something to complain about (besides Raul Esparza losing, although that's certainly an atrocity worthy of a post on any theatre blog). Spring Awakening, a show about teens expressing themselves in an oppressive society, was censored like mad in its Tony performance, with multiple lyric changes toning down the sexuality of a song about how tough it is to be a teenage boy with sex on the brain. The show's most salient message is literally that late-19th century German society hid sex from children, forcing them to miseducate themselves, which then led to tragedy. Hmm.
And what were the horribly offensive lyrics? Here's one: "With my teacher and her breasts/.../ And those breasts, I mean god/ Please just let those apples fall" was changed to "With my teacher and her chest" and "Then she leans against my shoulder/ And I want it all." Apparently "breasts," and "let those apples fall" are horribly damaging phrases for our youth. (Interestingly, the chorus, "It's the bitch of living," was left untouched, probably because "bitch" was used as an exclamation instead of a descriptive.) Lyrics subtly indicating masturbation (oh, the horrors!) were also altered ("She said give me that hand please/.../ Oh we'll work that silver magic/ Then we'll aim it at the wall" to "give me those bad dreams" and some lame crap about building silver castles). You can see the original song here. UPDATE: Here's a video of the Tony performance.
They also censored a song called "Totally Fucked," for obvious reasons (although I'm not sure why they had cut out "ass" in the lyric "kiss your sorry ass goodbye"). The cast ended up not singing the naughty words, instead covering their mouths--a mild protest I appreciated even though singing "totally ____" sounded absurd at times, and was surely confusing to those who weren't familiar with the music.
I get that CBS is understandably gunshy about the FCC, but now that the courts seem to be seeing their point of view, isn't it time to push the envelope a little? Surely they see the irony of censoring mild (verbal!) sexual expression in a show about the dangers of oppressing sexuality. ...Right?
The Sopranos vs. Futurama: Why Ambiguous Endings Don't Suck So Bad, in the Long Run
Okay, I’m not a Sopranos watcher. I watched the first couple of episodes on DVD, but I never really got into it. I know, more or less, what it’s about and who the characters are, but that’s it. So I didn’t watch the series finale on Sunday night. But I still feel like I watched the last couple of minutes – actually, I did watch the last couple of minutes, thanks to the Today show’s coverage in the morning.
(And here is where I must warn you about SPOILERS, even though if you’ve been on the internet at all in the last day or so, or watched TV, or talked to anyone, you already know what happened. But anyway, beware of SPOILERS.)
The end of The Sopranos is abrupt and jarring: the family sits down to a nice dinner together, there are some sinister guys hanging around, but before anything can happen – cut to black. Leaving the viewer no idea of what happens next. Do Tony and his family get whacked? Or is it a happy ending, where they finally reach some sort of harmony as a family? Or did David Chase just flip everyone the bird? I know how loyal Sopranos viewers were feeling, watching this live: disappointed, frustrated, and cheated. It’s how I felt when one of my favorite shows, Futurama, ended with no definite resolution.
Stay with me here. I’m sure you’ve never heard anyone compare The Sopranos to Futurama before, and yo
u want to know where I’m going with this, right? Well, Futurama’s final scene, while not as abrupt, was no less ambiguous than The Sopranos’ ending. The finale was, literally, operatic: Fry made a deal with the robot devil so he could write an opera for Leela, putting the same story that had been the heart of the series for four years, this unrequited love that Fry had for Leela, at the center of the finale. Naturally, I was expecting a resolution. What happened was this: Leela asked how it ends, and Fry plays her a picture of the two of them exchanging a chaste kiss. It's very sweet, but open-ended. It’s true that Groening, Cohen & Co. didn’t know, when they made the episode, that it would be the last (for a while, at least), so that’s one reason why they left things up in the air. But there is a way of writing a maybe-series finale that does seem final, as Gilmore Girls proved last month.
Anyway, when I first watched the Futurama finale, I hated it. A lot of that was a consequence of hating the fact that the show was ending in the first place, especially while it was so good. (Most of my favorite episodes come from that final, fantastic summer burn-off run in 2003.) But as time went on, I found myself liking it more and more, precisely because it didn't give a clear answer. I could decide for myself how it all resolved. (My own interpretation: it was Fry's way of saying he was okay with being just friends.)
You’ll find any number of commentaries online telling you how the Sopranos finale is fitting; I can’t speak to that. But, after the initial frustration, there is something nice and, paradoxically, respectful to the fans about an ambiguous ending. It’s like a choose-your-own-adventure for the viewers, in which their reading of the series as a whole allows them to decide for themselves what happened, instead of being told. Does Tony die? It all depends on how you see it.
And after a while, characters don't really belong to their creators at all. They belong to all the fans who've come to love them and their quirks, who have invited them into their homes and spent years with them. There are as many different interpretations of their actions as there are fans, and an open-ended finale allows everyone to get what they want out of it. So you may be pissed off now, Sopranos fans, but I can tell you from experience, you won't always be.
Monday, June 11, 2007
History Detectives : I Just Like Watching the Detectives
I love Mondays in the summer. I mean, yes, there's the oppressive heat, and I have to drag myself back to work again after the weekend, but there's one thing that makes it all worth it. It's my favorite summer show, and I've been looking forward to it since its fourth season ended last September. It's History Detectives, on PBS, and I'm counting down the days until it returns on June 25.
The premise is a bit like Antiques Roadshow, but rather than asking the detectives how much their family heirloom or gewgaw from a thrift store is worth, people ask if the story behind the object, or the object itself, or just the story that's been passed down in the family is real. That's when the detectives spring into action, checking archives, interviewing experts, and scrolling through miles of microfilm to tell the story. And it's always an interesting one. From the Black Star Line to Lou Gehrig to Civil War prison camps, you get an in-depth look at something you might not have known much – or anything – about before.
And then there are the History Detectives themselves: Elyse Luray, Tukufu Zuberi, Gwen Wright, and Wes Cowan. They're knowledgeable, friendly, love what they do, and they're not afraid to have fun – none more than my favorite, the avuncular auctioneer, Wes. When Wes checked into the provenance of a watch inscribed to Doc Holliday from Wyatt Earp, it was like all of Wes' childhood dreams about cowboys had come true. Wes palled around with the reenactors at the O.K. Corral, pounded sarsaparilla at a saloon in Tombstone, and rode a horse through the streets of New York City (wishing, as he did, that there was "such a thing as a flyin' machine" to get him back to Arizona). And while he couldn't prove that the watch is real, he clearly had the time of his life.
That's why I love this show. I come for the little-known facts, but I stay for the fun. And Wes. He's just so cool!
Friday, June 08, 2007
Studio 60: The West Coast Wing
After watching Studio 60 last night, I'm prepared to announce Aaron Sorkin's secret plan behind the "Tom's brother gets kidnapped in Afghanistan" plot. Faced with lagging ratings and disappointed critics, he clearly tried to turn Studio 60 into The West Wing. It was an interesting strategy, to be sure. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head: "The West Wing featured heavy stuff like conflict in the Middle East and religious freedom, and no one called it a disappointing failure...hmm...hmmmm..." Thus, the decision to spend an entire episode (part one of three) on Tom's brother, Matt and Harriet's neverending fights about religion, and Jordan's baby. I'm sorry, didn't there used to be some sort of show-within-a-show here?
So yeah, Tom's brother is still kidnapped, and the morons at the local news have decided that broadcasting the fact that one of the kidnapped soldiers is related to a TV star won't endanger his life at all. Everyone is understandably upset. The sexual harassment lawyer randomly brings to Matt's attention a secret company that basically takes ransom money in to the Middle East and Latin America and rescues kidnap victims. Not so much kidnapped soldiers, but still...they're exploring the possibility. Harriet is praying (and fighting with Matt about praying). Matt is having drug flashbacks or something to the day the U.S. declared war on Afghanistan, and the difficulties inherent in writing a comedy show at that time. Luke was an asshole then, too.
Meanwhile, Jordan's baby still isn't moving, and it seems the umbilical cord is wrapped around her neck. Danny's there in a flash, harassing the young doctor and freaking out all over the place. It seems Jordan has pre-eclampsia, which is scary stuff, especially since the only cure is to get the baby outta there. Before they rush Jordan into surgery to get a c-section, Danny proposes and Jordan accepts. It's maybe a little sweet. Maybe. But that's all you're getting from me today, Sorkin. What happened to that late-night sketch comedy this show is purportedly about? Come to think of it, what happened to the theme song this show used to have?
Hidden Palms: "Sober" is the New Drunk
Wednesday night's Hidden Palms took us further into the mystery and intrigue that is "hidden" behind the "palms" in Palm Springs, if you get what Kevin Williamson, Master of Subtlety, is saying. Johnny discovers, thanks to Cliff, that Eddie killed himself in Johnny's room (spoooooky). And Johnny's got his very own cyberstalker sending him ominous warnings, and finally a video of the doomed Eddie (extra-spoooooky).
On the bright side, he's also got his very own teenage lust triangle! Veronica Mars alum Tessa Thompson is on the scene playing Nikki, Johnny's friend from rehab. Nikki and Johnny seem to be one of those potential couples who were just never in the same place at the same time, so Nikki's pretty pleased that now she's in a halfway house in a nearby town, she and Johnny can finally make sweet sober love. Not so much, it turns out, on both counts. Johnny's still obsessed with Greta, who seems to return his affections. And Nikki's still obsessed with alcohol, which doesn't return her affections so much as cause her to make an ass out of herself at a country club party before puking and passing out at Johnny's house. And as a side note, Tessa Thompson playing drunk is like Elizabeth Berkley playing high (on No-Doze) on Saved by the Bell. ("I'm so excited! I'm so...scared?") She's so over the top she can't even see the top.
Jessie Jo, the little drag queen that could, continues to be my favorite thing on this show as Johnny's new AA sponsor. Liza, my potential other favorite, has nothing to do in this episode except dress up in a stupid costume and look longingly at Johnny. Cliff continues to be smarmy, secretive, and potentially evil. I continue to wonder why anyone would think Johnny is hot.
Pirate Master: Did You Hear About the Pirate Reality Show?
Yes, it was rated TV-PG. What about it?
The fact is, we didn't get introduced to anyone on Pirate Master last week except the captain, his officers, and the three people he put up for elimination, so as I'm watching the credits this week, I find myself confronted with these anonymous people that I know I've never heard from before. Nessa, Jupiter, Azmyth, Christa, Laurel, Kendra – who are these people? Did they just get here? I've just finished the second episode and these random people are still cropping up. The show is not doing a good job of introducing the entire cast. They're only showing you the people they can make story arcs for. But if you watch, say, Project Runway, you can pretty much identify every designer, even the uninteresting ones, by the end of the first episode. At least give us interviews so we can put names with the faces, please, Pirate Master. There's one silent blond girl who's still completely throwing me. (She exists, right? I mean, the rest of the crew can see her? She's not a pirate ghost?)
So this week is all about what a bad captain Joe Don is. He feasts on bacon and eggs while the crew gets gruel, he sits on his ass while the crew swabs the deck and raises anchor, he stands around while everyone else jumps into the snakepit and searches for the treasure, and he still gets half the treasure. Everybody's complaining. Nobody thinks it's fair. And yet – no one does anything about it. Not a single person votes to mutiny against the captain. Which is strange, because they just got done with a Pirate's Court in which the crew aired their grievances and frustrations with the captain, so you'd think that Joe Don would get at least one vote. Specifically, Louie's, since we hardly see Louie in this episode but he's interviewing about how the captain has to go. Do they all just like complaining or does Joe Don have some power of blackmail over the entire crew?
And as for the elimination – look, last week's elimination at least made some sense. John was a nutty, nutty compass kidnapper/exotic dancer. This week, the crew is presented with three nominees, all of whom are chosen for their perceived physical weaknesses. Kendra can't swim, Joy hurt her knee, and Christian is big but slow. So, with what seems like a tremendous lack of foresight, because they'll feel his absence swabbing the deck tomorrow, they send home Christian. Meanwhile, I am left with questions which will probably never be answered. Was it because Christian called for a mutiny? Why won't anyone vote for Joe Don? And how many other crew members are hiding in the rigging?
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Top Chef: Who's Better? The Answer May Not Surprise You
Season 3 of Top Chef is still a week away, but Bravo wants to make sure you don't go hungry with a little amuse bouche: a cook-off between the four best chefs from Seasons 1 and 2. Well, actually, that's a lie. While Bravo is content to take the top four contestants from Season 2 (especially as S2's top four consist entirely of Marcel and his would-be shavers), they make an exception for Season 1. Instead of Lee Anne, who they claim can't compete because she's now a culinary producer for the show, they bring back Stephen. Who also creates drama. Interesting how that works out, Bravo. Very interesting. Cooking for Season 1, then, we have Harold, Dave, Tiffani, and Stephen, and for Season 2, Ilan, Marcel, Elia, and Sam. Let's get ready to gelee!
The competition starts out with a Quickfire Challenge, and Dave complains because he thought he was done with this. (Dave complaining seems to be a theme, as he also complains, with many attendant bleeps, about how people are telling him how to cook and about the amateurish wait staff.) The challenge is to cook eggs, literally with one hand behind their backs. It's silly, but this competition is just for fun, charity, and bragging rights, so I have no problem with it. Tom and Padma choose winners for each season who will then be team captains. Marcel takes it for Team Season 2 with, of all things, a saffron foam. Bless his little molecular gastronomic heart. Stephen is apparently not entirely full of hot air when he calls his dish the "Perfect Omelette," because he wins for S1 and overall, earning his team an extra $100 shopping money. Two guesses what he spends it on.
The challenge itself: make a four-course meal with scallops, lobster, duck, and Kobe beef. Each chef gets assigned to a dish. Because there's really no drama outside of Marcel annoying the Season 1 contestants in what seems to be record time, Bravo has to manufacture some, like Ilan spilling Marcel's mango. Will they come to blows? No, they won't. And then Tom, making the rounds, makes an excellent, and hilarious, point. Stephen, naturally, bought wine to pair with his dishes. But each pair of dishes is going head-to-head, so what if the wine ends up pairing better with the other dish? Nothing comes of it, of course, but it's still funny.
The dishes are judged by the usual crowd, Tom, Padma, Gail, and new judge Ted Allen (yay! I love Ted!), as well as the entire cast of Season 3. The S3 chefs are all pretty anonymous at this point, except for Hung, who reveals that he knows Marcel. So make of that what you will. If you hate Marcel, you can use that as an excuse to get a head start on hating Hung. Anyway, Bravo is careful to show the diners saying good and bad things about each dish, so it's hard to tell, at this point, who's doing well. What we do know is that Marcel not only makes a lobster foam, he delivers it tableside, for what Ted later calls an "in-your-face foam." And when it comes to Ilan's hair, which now has weird patterns shaved into the sides, Ted has grave concerns. So do I; one side of his hair looks rather like a landscape, with jagged mountains and a little shaved crescent moon above them. I wouldn't be surprised if there was also a little coyote shaved in there. Disappointed, but not surprised. Ilan doesn't need to meet Season 3 of Top Chef as much as he needs to meet with the stylists of Shear Genius.
Oddly enough, my favorite part of the episode is the judging. It's really nice to watch a judging where the chefs feel free to talk back to the judges and blow them off, because most of them (basically, everyone but Ted) could stand to be taken down a peg or two and reminded that they don't actually have the power of life and death. Harold's impatient shrug says it all: "What are you going to do to me?" So the judges can talk all they want about what they didn't like about a dish, but they're much less mean about it than usual, and none of the chefs takes anything too much to heart. The judges decide that Elia beat out Dave on the scallop dish, Stephen's lobster was better than Marcel's, Harold was better on the duck than Ilan (so if you wanted to know who was the better Top Chef and you hadn't already decided it was Harold… it's Harold), and Tiffani won the Kobe beef round over Sam. So Season 1 defeats Marcel and the Shavers, winning $20,000 for the Susan G. Komen foundation. And while the episode was mostly marking time until the real thing begins next week, but it's nice to see that a good cause got some cash. And I suppose the episode did whet my appetite for next week. Bring on the main course! And more Ted over here!
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
On the Lot: Mighty Morphin' Reality Show
Fox has changed the format of On the Lot yet again, this time to my great benefit. The show has been cut down to one hour a week (they'll combine the screening and results shows), and is only screening five short films per week. I'm breathing a giant sigh of relief here. And here's a helpful hint: If you DVR the show and fast-forward through all the "Which contestant will screen their film next?" and "Vote for this guy" crap (pretty much anything involving Adrianna), you can cut the show down to a solid, watchable 35 minutes.
Our guest judge this week was Transformers director Michael Bay, who seemed to have generally helpful criticism (unlike Gary Marshall, who spent most of his time coming up with nonsensical one-liners). The films were all three-minute shorts made in five days (four comedies, one documentary). The best was Dough: The Musical, a musical about a baker searching for love and a woman searching for a job, by new favorite Adam. And because it was awesome, not just because I'm biased towards musical comedy. The worst was new least-favorite Hilary's The First Time I Met the Finkelsteins, a completely pedestrian "Girlfriend Meets Boyfriend's Family" story.
Of the remaining three, Sam's Broken Pipe Dreams was reasonably funny, if a bit slow at one point; Trevor's Teri (Blind Date) was a fair idea that could have been better-executed; and Shalini's Laughing Out Loud: A Comic Journey was well-directed stylistically, but very predictable message-wise (and good on you, Carrie Fisher, for pointing it out). Everyone seemed to like Shalini's and Adam's movies best, and Hilary's worst. So...I'm guessing this is the last we'll see of Little Miss Peeing on the Bus.
Overall, it was a hugely more watchable episode than last week's bloated monstrosities, but I still have a few big problems with the show. First, the directors are being judged on their writing as well as their directing, which doesn't seem entirely fair or realistic if the competition is supposed to be based on directing skills. Second, both sets of short films we've seen were filmed in the contestants' hometowns, which means that a) all films were made before the contestants came to LA to be judged, so that the contestants aren't able to incorporate the judges' advice into their next short films; and b) contestants living in rural areas are heavily penalized when it comes to casting competent actors (and probably when it comes to crews and equipment, as well). Hilary's film, shot in rural New Hampshire, suffered because of amateur acting, whereas Adam's film, shot in LA, was amazing in part because he cast great actors who could sing, too.
That said, I could give a damn about how fair this show is or isn't, and from the ratings, so could America.
America's Got Talent: Does It? Does It Really?
America's Got Talent, NBC's talent contest/sideshow is back, with a couple of minor changes. Jerry Springer is the new host, replacing… who was the old host again? I completely forget. Shatner? Donny Osmond? Okay, I just looked it up, and apparently it was Regis. Whatever, the host has such an important role anyway. Sharon Osbourne is the new judge, replacing Brandy, who's got some things she needs to deal with. And while divorce, alcohol, and burgers have all conspired to take David Hasselhoff down, you can't defeat the Hoff that easily. If it should come to nuclear war, the only survivors will be David Hasselhoff, Dick Clark, and Little Richard. So, no, he's not going anywhere. Token British judge Piers Morgan is still around, too, because every talent show needs a mean British judge. (Oddly enough, America's Got Talent has two Paulas, as both Sharon and the Hoff are a little loopy.)
The Dallas auditions get off to a positively horrifying start when a Barry White-voiced guy comes out in a fedora and bathrobe to sing "Don't Cha." And yes, I suppose it wasn't very pleasant when he stripped off his robe and started dancing around shirtless like Chris Farley as a Chippendale, but mostly, it was "Don't Cha" that nearly made me change the channel. I'm so sick of "Don't Cha," but I'm even more sick of the ironic use of "Don't Cha." Can we find another national joke, please?
It does get better – how could it not, when it starts with overexposed PCD – and there are several good acts, but quite a few of the ones they put through end up being musical acts. I feel like singers have too much of an edge on this show, because of the residual American Idol appeal, and the fact that no one is going to think their act is crazy or stupid. Last year's winner was a singer, and I have every reason to think that this year's winner will be one too. I'd like to see what would happen in a talent contest that doesn't include singers or musicians. And considering the popularity of talent shows these days, I'm sure I'll get my wish. But on to last night's notable acts.
The Accepted:
The Duttons: They're a family country band, and they've got some seriously cool moves, including quite a bit of trick fiddle playing – behind the back, bowing the neighbor's fiddle, and so on. I'm not usually one for fiddles, but even I liked them.
Meghan Miller: Ventriloquist act. She does a nice rendition of "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" with her puppets, but I'm not sure she'll get very far. In fact, if she weren't a cute teenage girl, I doubt she would have passed the audition.
Fallon: Cute blond girl with a guitar. She sings Jewel, "Who Will Save Your Soul," and she gets a lot of points from me for not trying to sing like Jewel, because that's always a losing proposition. I look forward to seeing what else she can do.
Jabbawockeez: It sounds weird – a masked hip-hop dance crew – but they're quite good.
Mr. Big "Who's the Guy" Beal: His name is stupid, but the guy can play the sax, and he dances around the stage like a maniac, and it's great. Good times.
The X'd:
Adam Aaron Michaels: He looks like Liberace dressed as Elvis, and he gets about two seconds onstage before they give him the hook. I think he would have more luck as a Liberace impersonator.
Mr. Bill: Not a great singer, but a nice guy, and it's sadness all around when the audience starts to boo him. Even Piers feels bad for him. How did the audience get to be crueler than the Mean British Judge?
Human Slinky: Just like it sounds. I'm sure he'll have a great career performing in halftime shows at basketball games, just like the Horn Guy. However, the act is notable for the Hoff's reaction alone. He calls it a "giant colon going berserk," and he really seems to be scared, like he thinks it's going to attack him. So if you ever meet the Hoff, don't come at him with a colon.
Brandon Pereyda: He calls himself an "aerialist," and he twirls around on these long strips of cloth suspended from the ceiling, and it's all very Cirque du Soleil, but a little rough. However, he is extremely buff and shirtless. Points for that.
The Pec Brothers: Their pecs bounce to "Dueling Banjos." It's funny, but not exactly something you can go on the road with. More like entertainment at a family reunion after everyone's gotten nice and drunk.
The Kids:
Erica Marks: Okay, so a theme emerges as we're going through the auditions: Piers is mean to kids, and it's breaking Sharon's heart. Hoff mostly stays above the fray, or maybe he's off in his own world and doesn't know what's going on. It starts with Erica, who sings this year's power song, "(And I Am Telling You) I'm Not Going." She's not great, but she's not bad, certainly not bad enough to warrant Piers' scathing criticism of her. But this is just a prelude to…
Breeze: This little girl with crimped, streaked hair comes out and does a little cheer routine, and it's not good. Piers blames the mother, the mother comes out and defends herself, and before you know it, Sharon has gone off to her dressing room, Piers has followed, and the poor kid is still standing there on stage, because they haven't voted on her yet. She's extremely gracious and sweet about it, but I really hope that girl got, like, a giant slab of chocolate cake that night, because she didn't deserve all that.
Bob Moore and his dogs: Not a kid, but I'm including the act here because it proves that Piers hates puppies as well as kids. The dog act isn't that great, but you've got to give the guy credit for not only training those dogs, but rescuing them from the pound as well. But Piers has to go and say that he should send most of the dogs back to the pound. And then Piers shrugs on his puppy-fur coat and goes home for a relaxing evening of kicking puppies. He's not a fan of puppies, is what I'm saying.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Victory for Free Speech on Television
From the New York Times:
Court Rebuffs F.C.C. on Fines for Indecency
If President Bush and Vice President Cheney can blurt out vulgar language, then the government cannot punish broadcast television stations for broadcasting the same words in similarly fleeting contexts.
That, in essence, was the decision on Monday, when a federal appeals panel struck down the government policy that allows stations and networks to be fined if they broadcast shows containing obscene language.
Although the case was primarily concerned with what is known as “fleeting expletives,” or blurted obscenities, on television, both network executives and top officials at the Federal Communications Commission said the opinion could gut the ability of the commission to regulate any speech on television or radio.
This is a huge victory against government censorship of our media--censorship which, over the past few years, has extended its reach to the point where it has become a tool of the religious right, and has completely sidestepped the First Amendment. This is a repudiation of the F.C.C. which levied a record $3.6 million fine against CBS for broadcasting an episode of Without a Trace with a group sex scene involving teenagers that featured no nudity or obscene language. And I don't watch Without a Trace, but knowing CSI's proclivity toward moralizing and punishing characters who are free sexually, I kind of doubt Without a Trace was at all condoning that sort of behavior.
So a tip of the hat to the United States Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit in New York, and a preemptive wag of the finger to the Supreme Court. (Don't mess this up for me, John Roberts!) Oh, and suck it, Parents Television Council. Start using a V-chip or buying your kids some books. Or, god forbid, actually watching TV with your children, so you can protect them from all that gay sex you seem to fear so much.
Hell's Kitchen: The Names Have Been Changed, But That's All
Hide your meat tenderizers and your melon ballers; professional yeller and part-time chef Gordon Ramsay is back with a new batch of chefs for him to break down, build back up, break down again, and reward with a restaurant. Soon, one of these chefs will bask in the same glory as last year's winner, Heather, who is working in Las Vegas and has mostly gotten over the night terrors now. (Mostly.) Returning to help Ramsay out, with varying degrees of success, are Ramsay's largely mute sous chefs Scott and Mary Ann, perpetually abused maitre d' Jean-Philippe, and that irritating narrator who constantly states or recaps the obvious. It's helpful if you've just flipped back from another channel during the commercials or if you've left the room to get a snack, but otherwise? Shut up, narrator.
Now, Gordon Ramsay gets all the ink for being a scary guy, and he certainly doesn't make the environment a pleasant one in which to work, but the contestants do bring a lot of the stress on themselves. They cry, they refuse to work with each other – and what kind of an idiot do you have to be to talk back to Ramsay? Vinnie? Has that ever worked out well for anyone? Granted, he's going to yell at you no matter what you do, but there's no point in actively trying to make him lose his rag. And on the subject of Ramsay's treatment of his chefs, Ramsay seems reluctant to ridicule Eddie, who has a disease that stunts his growth, but he's got no problem taunting Aaron about his weight, and that's where it all starts to get uncomfortable. It's okay if he's calling his minions incompetent, because he does that to all of them, and he's done it so much it's lost all meaning. But personal attacks seem like a step over the line, even for a man who's become famous for being abusive. Random yelling and specific, localized yelling are very different.
Anyway, there are no surprises this season. Once again, the chefs are split into teams of men and women, and again, the teams screw up the dinner service so badly that Ramsay shuts the restaurant down halfway through. (It's appetizers that they ruin. Isn't it always appetizers?) The endlessly bickering, completely dysfunctional women's team is chosen as the losers, and Tiffany gets sent home for not turning out the appetizers. All of this is standard practice for Hell's Kitchen, and it won't really heat up until some chefs start to take charge and become frontrunners. Melissa and Brad distinguished themselves from the pack this week, but it's only one episode, and there are still plenty of services to be messed up. Allez bitching!
Creature Comforts: Who Doesn't Like Animals?
I have to admit, I can't compare the American version of Creature Comforts to the British version. I love Aardman animation – Wallace and Gromit in all their adventures, Chicken Run, the whole bit. I love it. But I've never seen the original British Creature Comforts, so I can't tell you how the British version is better. On its own, however, the American version is cute, and I can definitely see the charm and inventiveness that has made it popular.
One thing the Aardman team is particularly good at is expression. They're quite skilled at making little changes in their characters' faces to reflect nuances of mood. When Curse of the Were-Rabbit came out, the New York Times reviewer wrote glowingly of Gromit, comparing him to a silent film star in his expressiveness. And it's true. They know how to make those animals speak volumes, even the ones in the background who aren't saying anything at all, like a googly-eyed bird blinking pleasantly as her boyfriend talks about how much he likes her eyes. And while there is a lot of enjoyment to be had in the interviews themselves, particularly in the banter between couples, the animators throw in lots of purely visual jokes. One of the better ones involves a joke-telling lizard and a pair of crickets.
Ultimately, it's a fun way to spend half an hour, and if it's on, you might as well watch it. And now, I think I'll seek out the British version.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Hex: Let's Talk About Hex, Baby
Thanks to BBC America's marathon Saturday, I'm now all caught up with the American airings of Hex, Britain's answer to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Having watched the entire first American season and the first couple episodes of the second (the show has finished its run across the pond), I find myself a bit torn. On the one hand, I do love me some supernatural teenagers, but on the other hand, Hex has some serious issues. The show starts out following Cassie, a student at a boarding school in England called Medenham Hall which is apparently chock full of ghosts and demons. She finds out that she's linked by destiny to the fallen angel Azazeal, and things pretty much go downhill from there. The show now follows Ella, a 500-year old teenager and last of the anointed witches, who is sworn to kill Cassie and Azazeal's child in order to prevent Armageddon.
More Hurwitz? Yes, Please!
Far from deserving the "Saddest" award, this season's rejected pilot from Mitchell Hurwitz could still be in this thing. The Hollywood Reporter says that there is still interest in The Thick of It from Showtime, HBO, and NBC. And while I do realize that fun and failure start the same way... hooray! Comedy seems to be a dying breed on TV, and NBC's policy of "no new comedies" indicates just how afraid the networks are to introduce new sitcoms. But I think the audience has just been spoiled by fast-paced, off-the-wall sitcoms like Arrested Development and Scrubs, and we don't want to go back. If The Thick of It is part of this new breed of comedies, I will gladly welcome it to my TV screen.
So in case executives from Showtime, HBO, or NBC happen to stumble across this blog, I'd just like to say: Come on!
Friday, June 01, 2007
Studio 60: Back to business as usual
After a brief respite from the overdramatic storylines that sunk Studio 60 like a pair of cement shoes, it's all come rushing back, with the addition of a cement sock or two. Matt's drug use? Discovered! Jordan's baby? In trouble! The sexual harassment lawsuit? Getting worse by the minute! Danny and Jordan? Fighting about Studio 60's ratings!
And just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, it seems Tom's brother, who is in the Armed Forces, is being held hostage by Iraqi insurgents. What the hell happened here? Actually, I guess it's not a big mystery. Aaron Sorkin was clearly all, "Uh-oh, the ratings are still going downhill, we'd better do something huge!" Here's a tip from me to you, Sorkin: Studio 60's strengths are its characters and its actors. Let them do their thing, without forcing it using absurd plot devices. Oops, too late.
Pirate Master: I'm Your Pirate Master, a Master for Money...
Finally, it's here. I've been anticipating this show for weeks now. When I first heard about Pirate Master, I thought it was just trashy enough to be awesome. And then I heard that one of the cast members described himself as a "scientist/exotic dancer," and that's when I knew it was going to be trashy awesome.
The show is Survivor with pirates; it doesn't pretend to be anything other than that. Actually, that's not true, because it does have its own carefully constructed mythology, something about a pirate named Henry Steel and a treasure that he conveniently divided up into 14 portions, exactly long enough for this show's run. Awfully obliging of him. At every stop, they use treasure maps to navigate to, well, treasure. This episode also has the crew choose a captain, only to find out later that he will be sharing private quarters and most of the booty with his mates, and will be deciding, along with his officers, which crew members will be up on the chopping block at Pirate Court, their version of Tribal Council. Naturally, this causes no small amount of resentment among the grunts. And while the crew can mutiny and overthrow the captain, there's one person who annoys them more than any amount of unfair advantage the captain gets. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
As with any Burnett show, the casting department has done its job, and there's a colorful crew, to say the least, populating this ship. There's firefighter Joe Don, who's the first captain; Rupert lookalike Louie; former NFL player Christian; and Joy, who's got a good attitude and a bad case of seasickness. Then there's Cheryl, who doesn't want to tell anyone that she's a deputy district attorney because she thinks her understanding of criminal behavior gives her an advantage. You know, because pirates are criminals. However, as no one there is actually a pirate, the point is kind of moot.
But you want to know about the scientist/exotic dancer, don't you? Yeah, you do. His name is John, and if you didn't see him, imagine a refugee from an '80s new wave band, with long black hair and a headband. When we first meet him, he's trying to get Joy to do a pirate jig, and then whispering creepily in her ear that he doesn't think there are any pirate jigs. Poor Joy looks about as weirded out by this as you'd expect. And while John is smart – he's the one who figures out where the treasure is and wins it for his crew – he gets all pouty and whiny when everyone else doesn't appreciate how smart he is. And then, when he ends up as one of the candidates for elimination, he steals the ship's compasses – no, for real – and is all, "Unless you want to drift about aimlessly forever, you'd better keep me in the game!" Joe Don smacks him down mightily, explaining how he can navigate without compasses – they're called the stars and the sun, Mr. Scientist – although his point is a little dulled by the fact that it's a cloudy night, and he can't figure out where north is at exactly that moment. But it's enough to make John look like even more of an idiot, and he earns himself a unanimous vote back to the exotic dance lab.
The verdict: it's exactly the sort of mindless, juicy reality show that makes summer TV fun. Plus it's got pirates, and pirates are so hot right now.
