“Book of Hours”

November 6th, 2009

I don’t have a whole lot to say about White Collar at this point, but I think it’s important to continue to acknowledge that the show is proving an engaging Friday night distraction of sorts. There’s nothing complicated about its narrative structure, and more than any other USA show it has isolated its mythology to the opening/closing of each episode, but the show has remained entertaining despite not offering anything distinctly new and thus demonstrates its solid execution.

What I want to focus on briefly is less what makes “Book of Hours” particularly compelling, as it was largely a stock hour of USA Procedural content, and more the elements of this episode that are helping (independent of the pilot) to unexpectedly offer a few interesting shades to this universe.

Strangely enough, I want to start with Tiffani Thiessen, who has gotten a fair deal of flack for her role in the series. However, I think it’s important to note that last week’s second episode actually integrated her into the storyline pretty effectively, and this week we saw her in only two scenes that were both important to the episode’s narrative structure. And rather than seeming like a character shoe-horned into a particular interaction, she never felt like the scenes were distinctly about her. There was nothing elegant, perhaps, about her phone anger proving that women are capable of murder, but the show had Elizabeth in on the joke, confirming their suspicions were true. And outside of her convenient behaviour, the episode even gave her perhaps the scene’s funniest line, as she suggests that Neal ask her out on a date and insists far too quickly and vehemently that she will accept, much to Burke’s chagrin.

There’s nothing complex about it, and perhaps there is something silly about a detective’s wife participating in brainstorming sessions, but the whole show has an air of simplicity that makes it work. Neal uses the shell game to demonstrate what’s been happening is actually highly ineffective, a visual aid where one really wasn’t all that necessary, but it fit his character and the universe quite well. And, in this episode, Thiessen felt like she did as well, even when giving a fairly stock “Have some faith in Neal” speech to Burke as he prepares to go through with the plan that could allow Neal a chance to escape. She’s never going to be a true part of this series in the sense that she is part of every investigation, but so long as she is occasionally worked into the case where logical (and at least within plausibility as defined in this particular universe that is at least a bit more whimsical than our own) then I think this sort of supporting role is beneficial if not exactly breaking any new ground. There could be an argument made that a better actress could do more with the part, but as long as they’re not asking more than what’s here right now I find Thiessen to be pretty enjoyable overall.

The other major change in these two post-pilot episodes is that Natalie Morales, best known to us all as Wendy Watson, has moved in as the new Junior FBI Agent. Here, arguably, we saw why: Lauren, unlike Burke’s original partner of sorts, is attracted to Neal, and you can see those few glimpses of jealousy going on as Neal seduces the professor (who, real name or no, I’m going to call Cindiana Jones) in an effort to sniff out the location of the titular text. I don’t know entirely where I sit on this trade, to be honest with you, as Marsha Thomason’s character had a more unique dynamic with Cafferty (having a different sort of dance card than he was expecting) that could have offered some nice tension of a non-romantic nature. At the same time, though, my appreciation for Morales’ charming ways makes the tradeoff worth it, and the romantic element under the surface fits the show’s aesthetic (jaunty, harmless) perhaps a bit better. I’ll never argue against having Morales return to my TV screen, in the end, and I thought that her dynamic with Neal was nicely introduced more subtly than it could have been in these past two episodes.

It just goes to show you how much a show like this is micro-managed to the point of establishing a clean sense of identity. USA Network shows are all filled with elements and characters that, if they were different, the show itself would feel entirely different. And while there might be two characters out there that would completely upend this universe in these two roles (which are the only female roles on the series, after all), these two seem to be fitting in just fine, so long as the producers follow the current trajectory.

Cultural Observations

• As for the plot itself, I thought it was well done: the integration of Moz into the case was really enjoyable, the tension between Neal and Cindiana was solid (Callie Thorne has now done the USA Trifecta of Burn Notice/Royal Pains/White Collar), and the tension about Neal potentially running wasn’t overplayed and even undercut when Burke’s mind went to Neal’s well-intended mind games (giving the book to the homeless man) before it went to Neal stealing the book outright.
• The show is following Royal Pains more than Burn Notice with its mythology, isolating it to the beginning and end of each episode here. The bottle containing a map of the Subway system isn’t a terrible way to end the USA-mandated coda every show has, but I kind of wish they’d use one of those to be clever as opposed to ratcheting up tension gradually each week before finally having an episode that sees these two worlds cross streams.
• Ratings have been good, so expect the show to grab a second season order at some point soon.

Screw Dramedy:

How We Distinguish Between Comic and Dramatic Television

November 6th, 2009

Mirror, mirror, on the wall – which television “comedy” is the least comic of them all?

There’s been some great back and forth on Twitter as of late surrounding the rankings of the best comedies currently on television, which is something that always brings out some controversial opinions. While I offered a very tentative ranking done without any sort of indepth scientific analysis on Twitter, I’m resistant to posting a more detailed list (like Jace at Televisionary, for example): I feel like there’s so many different categories of comedies on the air (long-running favourites which are very familiar, series which have improved so greatly that the relativity is almost blinding, and shows that are new and just finding themselves) that to rank them feels false.

However, I do think there’s something to be said for the fact that how we as critics (and viewers in general) individually define comedy is somewhat different from how the networks might define comedy. Genre definition in television is always a little bit slippery, especially when the oft-labeled “dramedy” exists, as has been demonstrated yearly at the Emmys when shows that walk the fine line are slotted into either category seemingly at random. Gilmore Girls is perhaps the most famous example, where Lauren Graham was submitting dramatic performances in a comedy category that perhaps fit the show in general but seemed to be out of place with the show’s highlights. The issue was never resolved (it was never nominated for Emmys outside of craft categories, despite the amazing work of Kelly Bishop/Graham), and right now there is perhaps more than ever before the sense that comedy and drama just aren’t clear divisions.

I was discussing the return of Showtime’s Nurse Jackie (returning alongside United States of Tara on March 22nd) with Maureen Ryan, and in particular I noted that I actively refuse to call Nurse Jackie a comedy. Mo, however, correctly noted that disqualifying Nurse Jackie calls into question a whole lot of cable “comedies,” and that this is a can of worms she (quite logically) doesn’t want to open.

I, apparently, like worms, so let’s dig into just why I refuse to accept certain shows as “comedy” in good conscience (and how my refusal is indicative of the role personal opinion plays in such classifications).

It’s interesting to note that cable and networks have very different definitions of these terms. On cable, if your show is an hour long it is unquestionably a drama, and if it’s a half-hour long it is unquestionably a comedy. It’s a really bizarre definition when you consider, for example, Showtime’s crop of half-hour comedies debuting in the new year. While Tracey Ullman’s sketch comedy series is no doubt comedy, the other three (Jackie, Tara and Secret Diary of a Call Girl, which returns in January with Ullman) are, I would argue, not. Jackie focuses on a woman whose drug addiction and adultery challenge her ability to be both a mother and a nurse, Tara focuses on a family being torn apart by a disorder caused by an unknown tragedy in the protagonist’s past, and Diary often eschews the glamorous side of prostitution for its emotional impact on the woman behind Belle. If I had to get to what was at the heart of each of these shows, I’d argue they’re all kind of tragic and sad, and as a result would easily classify them as funny dramas before I classify them as dramatic comedies.

However, on network television, the hour-long dramedy confuses this classification entirely, and to the point of outright incomprehension. Grey’s Anatomy, which is a medical procedural that on occasion likes to use quirky music to indicate a comic element to its stories, and Desperate Housewives, which is a television soap opera that uses quirky comedy to lighten things up, are both classified as dramedies, but then they get classified for the Emmys the former is a drama and the latter is a comedy. A lot of this has to do with how the show is being sold rather than the content of the show itself: Grey’s has always been sold on its romance elements and large-scale medical emergencies, while Housewives used an initial murder to introduce us to neurotic caricatures that over time have become more full-formed but just as “scandalous” in their kooky ways.

As such, with no clear sense of division, a lot of how a drama or comedy is classified comes down to personal response, which I’d argue comes from one of two places. The first is through some sort of broad comparative analysis that no regular viewer (and no real sane TV critic) would ever bother undertaking. For example’s sake, though, let’s take Weeds. While it has a similar “female protagonist trapped in complex interpersonal struggle” narrative as some of Showtime’s other comedies, it also has Doug, Andy, and a lot of broad comic elements (like, you know, the pot) that give it a zanier vibe than the more realistic and grounded comedies that have premiered more recently. As such, I’d be more like to call it a comedy than any of Showtime’s other series, although this is based entirely on my own attempts at objective analysis that are inevitably going to be influenced by subjective opinion of the series involved.

This leads me to conclude that the most definitive sense of whether a show is a comedy or a drama is, in fact, a subjective value: how a drama or a comedy is classified comes down to which element of the show you believe is strongest. Todd VanDerWerff noted that he didn’t include Glee in his list of favourite comedies on television not because it didn’t make the cut (which, considering that he and I share a disappointment over the show’s inconsistency, would probably be true either way) but because the elements he likes about the show are tragic and dramatic in nature to the point where he doesn’t feel comfortable calling it a comedy. However, fans of the show (the dreaded Gleeks) think that the show is downright hilarious, and the fact that its success has been largely attributed to the music and not the pathos I think this it is pretty commonly considered a comedy.

I’d argue that this is what creates the real confusion, more than any sort of Emmy classification or arbitrary cable distinctions. For instance, I won’t argue that Mo is wrong to suggest that Nurse Jackie is a comedy, because its most noteworthy (I don’t count Edie Falco being a great actress, we knew that already) and successful elements are comic in nature. Merritt Wever’s performance as Zoey is the standout element of the series, and Eve Best’s Dr. O’Hara is equally as hilarious when the show wants her to be. In these two characters, there are elements of a great comedy, but the show doesn’t seem to want to head in that direction, and as such I don’t feel comfortable calling it what Showtime wants me to. And, not helping its case, its most broadly comic element was what I felt was an absolutely awful misuse of Anna Deavere Smith as the hospital administrator, giving her Prop Comedy (the Taser) and Baby Comedy (the…baby) that never fit with the aesthetic of the show in the least. However, depending on how people fit the show into their schedule (whether as a chance to investigate the human condition or as a chance to spend some time with some enjoyable character for a half hour a week), its classification is almost frighteningly (if logically) malleable.

This creates scenarios like my illogical belief that Entourage is more interesting as a drama than a comedy (which is simply never going to happen), or Todd and I’s shared belief that the value to Glee is less in Sue Sylvester or traditional musical comedy and more about the show’s message about small town life or high school existence. We see what we want to see in shows that walk across this fine line, and as such our different comedy lists are different not only in how much we like certain shows but in which ones we believe are comedies (and for that matter, what type of comedy we prefer within those shows which ARE unquestionably comedies, which is a whole other issue).

And now, to put my money where my mouth is, and to return to the indirect challenge from Mo: here’s how I’d rank the Showtime/HBO “Comedies” in order of Most Comedic to Least Comedic  - this is to classify in terms of comedy/drama division, not in terms of quality/”funniest,” but as noted my subjective analysis has to play a role here.

• Tracey Ullman’s State of the Union
• Curb Your Enthusiasm
• Flight of the Conchords
• Eastbound and Down
• Bored to Death
• Entourage
• Californication
• Weeds
  • NOTE: I consider this my comedy dividing line – the Nancy Botwin Diagonal, if we graphed it. Everything after it I’d consider a drama, everything before a comedy.
• Secret Diary of a Call Girl
• Nurse Jackie
• Hung
• United States of Tara

Important Note about this list: it is entirely possible for individual episodes to move on the list (to different sides of the Nancy Botwin Diagonal) in individual episodes, although the rankings here suggest their aggregate position based on about ten minutes of contemplation.

Curse or Blessing? Predictability in Reality TV

November 6th, 2009

It’s been a while since I’ve stopped in with a Reality Roundup, which is symptomatic of the fact that my opinions about these three shows haven’t really changed. Survivor has been dominated by a single team to the point of proving downright uninteresting, Top Chef is still being dominated by the same four chefs, and Project Runway is something I didn’t even bother watching for a few weeks, choosing to read recaps instead. This hasn’t been a great season for any of the three shows on the level of really surprising me: in fact, they’ve all to different degrees become predictable (whether in which team will win, which chefs will dominate, and whether the show will be boring, respectively).

All three shows, however, feel ready to confront that sense of predictability in this week’s episodes, as Survivor rushes into a merge and Top Chef present a “volatile” Reunion special in an effort to shake things up a bit. And while Top Chef’s reunion show is predictably dramatic, Survivor’s merge episode is perhaps one of its best ever, unpredictable to the point of having no idea who is going home in the end.

And yet this leaves Project Runway, which has been predictably boring but almost entirely unpredictable in terms of the lack of consistent judging. As such, while the uncertainty of Survivor’s finale is downright exciting, the uncertainty surrounding who will be going to Bryant Park is actually problematic, and the end result dissatisfying if not necessarily wrong.

I’m going to start with Runway, which was actually one of the season’s most interesting episodes. The challenge was at least vaguely interesting (especially since I was at the Getty in April and was totally in all of those locations and remember Carol Hannah’s bed particularly…which sounds dirty), we got an enjoyable amount of Tim Gunn, and we’re finally leaving Los Angeles. However, the problem with the episode came to its ending, when five rather boring and uninteresting garments were sent down the runway and the judges were forced to make a decision. In that moment, the show got caught up in a difficult position: the three most consistent designers on that stage were Carol Hannah, Althea and Irina, but Althea’s outfit was a complete and total mess and the judges clearly liked Gordana’s dress better even with its ugly zipper. I really had no idea what decision they were going to make because of how poor all of the outfits were, none of which seemed to be separating any one designer from the others, and that sort of unpredictability on a show where I have about as much (if not more) evidence of their talent as the judges is kind of concerning.

It reflects a season long struggle with the judges, though, and it makes their final decision fallacious if not entirely wrong. I don’t disagree with the judges that Gordana lacked a clear vision, making a lot of fairly uninteresting but well-made dresses that in any other season would have had her sent home weeks ago (and while I could say the same about almost all of the designers, she and Christopher would be the first to go even in that scenario). However, the decision the judges make is that this challenge was ultimately pointless, and that Althea’s strong overall track record is more interesting to see at Bryant Park than Gordana’s boring aesthetic. However, as we’ve been pointing out all season, the judges haven’t been the least bit consistent, and when Nina suggests that she hasn’t seen anything from Gordana my immediate response is that it’s because she’s rarely ever been there. The lack of consistency in the judging, as Nina and Michael have been missing for most of the season, meant that the judges’ use of their overall impression from the entire season was in fact a fallacy: other than Heidi, who I’m now convinced has always been the panel’s loose cannon, no one could have truly constructed such an impression, so to use it as their reasoning is false.

But not, of course, wrong: I think the three who were through were the three who deserved to be there (out of this group, if not on their won merits), as Christopher has been on borrowed time and in poor taste all season and Gordana really did never show anything beyond competence throughout the competition. But I don’t feel as if any of the three finalists really earned their spot in Fashion Week with the judges so much as they were deemed the least offensive of the crop, and that’s a horrible thing to say about Project Runway. I just have no faith in the judges doing the right thing, making them unpredictable to a fault and becoming the only thing that’s had me the least bit engaged with the show all season.

Meanwhile, I’ve been engaged by the good chefs on Top Chef this season, but I’m still waiting for them to get to the Kevin/Voltaggios/Jennifer finale. I was going to write last week about how Jennifer’s fatigued state is something that she is capable of bouncing back from with the right type of challenge, but never got around to it, so let me just say that I’m not writing her off for having an off day in both the quickfire and the elimination challenge last week. But we have to wait to see how that goes down, for quite some time in fact: after November 18th’s episode, the show won’t be back until December 2nd. And it’s a delay that will feel particularly frustrating when you consider that this week we got only an All-Stars special.

As someone who just watched the first five seasons this summer, this is both engaging (since I know these chefs really well) and pointless (since the moments they’re reliving I just lived somewhat recently). Fabio stirring up tensions with Marcel and everyone else was predictably dramatic but also frustrating, since Marcel’s personality has always bugged me. The one moment in the episode that I was really intrigued to see, which was Carla choking out Casey for ruining her chances at winning Season Five, didn’t come to be as Carla seems to think that it’s entirely okay that Casey was such a pushy know-it-all. Yes, it was ultimately Carla’s decision to follow Casey’s advice, so I don’t blame her for forgiving her, but I have never particularly liked Casey and her attitude here wasn’t overly helpful to that. That being said, though, I thought little things like seeing Marcel freak out during the Judges’ commentary with the Season Five finale sous chefs (which is why we never saw it during the finale, I presume) was kind of fun, and the various groups did cook some impressive food (the most impressive being Marcel and Ilan’s salt-poached thai snapper, which seemed to taste as good as it looked crazy). So while it was predictable in the drama it stirred up, it was still definitely fun to revisit.

Meanwhile, Survivor: Samoa has finally started, albeit with a decision that actually in some ways makes the game less interesting. I really liked what we saw of Erik, as he was a master at manipulation and more importantly a master at communicating that manipulation in entertaining ways to us as an audience. I have to respect someone who ends up leaving the game because he was simply too cocky in presenting his strategy to the outnumbered Foa Foa tribe, and someone who never apologized about how hard he was playing this game. With Erik gone, things become inherently less interesting because Galu still has the numbers, and because with Erik gone Galu’s leadership is both less interesting (although John showed some intriguing shades in this one) and more likely to just chop off Foa Foa before turning on themselves, creating more predictability in the show’s future.

But this episode was simply a masterstroke of what the merge does to this game, something that in other instances just has not happened the same way. The episode had a number of montages where you saw people scheming, telling everyone about the scheme, and then the scheme basically disintegrating out from under them when it reaches certain people. The merge makes everyone paranoid, but what was interesting here is that it didn’t make everyone equally paranoid: while Russell tried to use the immunity idol promise (which we have, of course, seen used before) to bring people like Laura into the mix, at this point Galu’s numbers game is too strong for people to be that concerned with something like that. This episode was Russell losing all of his power, as the idol in his pocket proved worthless as a bargaining tool and then he threw away its one value (to save himself) by failing to trust that Natalie had effectively convinced the Galu girls about getting rid of Erik at this stage in the competition and wasting it at Tribal Council only to have no votes come his way. His experience shows how the unpredictability of the merge can screw over an individual game plan, and it’s amazing how Russell started as such a villain but seemed so gosh darn human here.

And it just shook up everything else at the same time as we saw the shifts within strategy have even Galu not sure what to do. We start with the plan to get rid of both Russell’s idol and Jaison, before it’s John who decides that this is a good time to weaken the female alliance of Galu in case they decide to do something like vote off Erik. As a result, Monica is the intended target, but then Erik’s cheerleading of that plan turns it into his, and puts his head on the chopping block with Foa Foa and then the girls. The moment where John latches himself onto Kelly and grabs her off into the woods to try to convince her that they’re not going through with this was literal panic mode, which is something we almost never get to see. That all of them but Shambo eventually got on the same page demonstrates that this game works in mysterious ways, and that John managed to both get rid of Russell’s idol (who was convinced that everything was just a plot to convince him he was safe before eliminating him) and Erik (a legitimate threat to his strategy) while never even planning any of it himself.

I’ll miss Erik’s witty banter (his suggesting that Shambo can vote for Probst for all he cares was worth a chuckle), but the sheer insanity of this episode was worth his departure – really intrigued to see where things go from here, especially once Foa Foa is gone and we see some more shakeups. It’ll never quite be this unpredictable in the future (a Survivor curse, where the show gets interesting in the middle only to peter off again), but it’s finally a bit of momentum for a season that was never bad but never quite clicked either.

Cultural Observations

• Project Runway
  • I loved the small moment where Christopher said he expected that Nicolas would be there with him at the end, as it was proof that his delusions extend beyond self-delusion.
  • The preview for next week shows just how interesting this season has been: rather than there being drama about the actual outfits, it’s about Carol Hannah catching a contagious disease.
  • I’m not going to go in search of them myself, since I want the finale to be as interesting as possible (aka not very interesting), but the fashion shows for this season were a whole lot earlier in the year so there’s probably pictures of the collections (that would likely be identifiable by designer although don’t quote me on that) floating around.
• Top Chef
  • It’s not coincidence that it was Dale who was the one person who legitimately botched their dish: I was perplexed that he ever became a finalist, and was kind of like “Huh?” when he showed up.
  • Note that the two winners we were missing (Stephanie and Hosea) are the two whose wins are somewhat less interesting and in some cases controversial. Considering that Runway just completely ignored a final challenge and went based on overall impressions, Top Chef has always been resistant to doing the same and it showed with Richard/Stefan went down at the hands of lesser contenders (if not “unworthy” ones).
• Survivor
  • Loved Shambo’s “Who’s Erik?” when she heard about the plan – either she doesn’t know anyone’s names or else she was just so perplexed that she believed there must be another Erik on Foa Foa she doesn’t know. Either way, it was hilarious.
  • It’s always impressive when an episode of Survivor can have a legitimately terrible challenge (it was T-Ball!) and still manage to be entertaining. They’re usually my favourite part of the show, so it’ll be interesting to see what goes on from this point on. Are they, as Andy Denhart argues at Reality Blurred, saving the good challenges for the All-Stars season coming in the new year?

“Ron and Tammy”

November 5th, 2009

“Now listen to one of mine.”

There’s nothing special about “Ron and Tammy,” except that it’s probably the funniest Parks and Recreation to date.

There’s a guest star, yes, but not one who feels overly forced into the story or on who the show relies too heavily. There’s no special event taking place in the context of the episode to make things more exciting than usual, and there’s even a B-Plot that has nothing to do with the A-Plot. And if you were to write down the plot of the episode without any context (which would read “Leslie and Ron feud with Library Services over an Empty Lot”), you would probably think this episode would be downright dreadful.

But what makes this episode so special is that this episode is less an aberration and more a sign that the momentum just isn’t going to go away, and that this sitcom has finally found its groove. The episode’s situation is one of the show’s funniest, and it features some of the best lines in the show’s short lifespan, but it feels like the show could have just as funny a scenario in the future without any trouble. It is an episode that not only convinces you that it is great, but also that the show behind the episode is just as strong if not stronger for having spawned it.

If you are for some reason still one of those people who never gave this show a chance, you need to watch this episode not because it is singularly great but because it is symptomatic of a broader greatness. You’ve been listening to the other guys, with their offices and sketch comedy shows, for long enough: tonight, listen to the genius of Ron F**kin’ Swanson.

It’s entertaining that I left this episode for last considering it was probably the night’s best, but what’s interesting is that we already knew that: critics saw the episode ahead of time, so they prepared us for its genius to the point where I was on the lookout for what Alan Sepinwall referred to as perhaps the best talking head in Greg Daniels Mockumentary history. So my delay in writing about it is not that I thought the episode wasn’t as good as they did, but rather that they already established how strong it was and thus made anything I had to say about it more chorus than solo.

But what I loved about the episode is that it didn’t really deviate very far from the show’s usual setups. I think my favourite thing about the episode is not the arrival of Tammy Swanson (played by Nick Offerman’s real-life wife Megan Mullally) but, instead, the idea that the Parks Department views the Library as a diabolical biker gang whose crystal meth is political savvy and whose guns are shushing. A lesser show might have made Tammy’s crusade to gain the park land a personal one, but on this show her actions are simply part for the course for the diabolical fiends at Library Services. When Ron gets brainwashed into believing Tammy’s strategy, Leslie tells him to listen to what he’s saying: of all of the horrible and miserable things in the world, he would build a library? To the Parks department, a library is the most worthless thing in the world, which is such a charming bureaucratic blindside that I would have laughed even if it hadn’t coincided with the genius of Ron getting tangled in his ex-wife’s complicated web of motel hookups and diner hookups and skin melding into skin.

That storyline really was all about the genius of Nick Offerman, who usually mines humour from Ron’s lack of emotional connection but here mined humour from the fact that Ron’s vitriolic anger regarding this ex-wife was all a coping mechanism to get over their intense sexual connection. The talking head that Alan referred to was, really, just plain genius:

“I’m a simple man. I like pretty, dark-haired women and breakfast food. But this stock photo I bought at a framing store isn’t real. Today, I got the real thing. A naked Tammy made me breakfast this morning. I should’ve taken a picture of it.”

Everything about the line worked, from the hilarity of the photo behind him (which was really bizarre out of context but hilarious in context) to the matter of fact way he said it (especially his realization that he should have taken the photo. And the rest of the storyline worked as well, whether it was in broader moments (like Ron and Tammy stripping off their clothes while running from the car into the motel room, or Ron coming out of Library Services with a thumbtack in his forehead) or in smaller moments (like Leslie wearing her sharpest rings or Ron’s Tiger Woods-esque tradition of post-sex wardrobe). The storyline eventually comes to a head as Ron stands up to Tammy and saves the lot after Leslie proves willing to give it up in order for Ron to keep having sex, something no woman has ever done for him and that gives him the boldness required to break things off. Ron’s character is such that he had terrible marriages but would still get married again, stating all of it in the same matter of fact way, and Nick Offerman and the writers absolutely nailed him in this episode.

And yet, it did so without narrowing things in too greatly. The episode also had a fun little subplot of Andy replacing the former shoe shine guy in City Hall and deciding to use his new job as a way to cater to the elusive “Family Shoe Shine” demographic by plastering Ann’s face everywhere. Mark’s tension with this was nicely understated by having him run to other people in the office for advice (which works with Tom, who suggests the high road so he can have the low road for himself, but backfires when female co-worker whose name I never remember decides that Andy is the better physical specimen), and overall it was just a simple little story, well told and featuring both some fun awkward moments (like the wall of photos) and some clever scenes that allowed us to take a break from the main action.

The show just works now: Poehler was great with all of Leslie’s quirks (I especially loved her outright anger that anyone would ever desire to be Cleopatra over Eleanor Roosevelt), but also got to show Leslie backed into a corner and having to fight her way out from it. And while a half-hour comedy can’t make every character have a moment in an episode, what worked about this is how aware the show was of that limitation: it never tried to do too much, or conflate Ron’s story too greatly, and the result was a focused episode that involved characters without suffocating them and just plain made me laugh.

And right now, more than any other comedy in the lineup, Parks is operating largely without complaint and with a whole lot of laughs to go with it – with this and “Greg Pikitis,” the show is on quite the roll.

Cultural Observations

• The entire Old Gus cold open was gold, especially how hilarious Andy found it all to be – the shoe shine storyline is just an excuse to keep Andy (and thus Chris Pratt) around, but I’ll take it if there’s more scenes like these.
• Leslie thinking out loud was also a major win, as the pressure of the situation made her quirks seem far more logical: she wouldn’t knowingly fall into that pattern under normal circumstances, but with her park falling out from under her (that lot won’t beautify itself) she couldn’t help but go into crazy mode.
• It was almost too easy, but I still liked the “Andy tried out for both Survivor/Deal or no Deal -> Video that logically should be Survivor audition but is actually for Deal or no Deal” gag.
• I hope some day to own a home, or have an office, and in that office I shall put up a photo of breakfast food in honour of Ron Freakin’ Swanson – and I don’t even LIKE breakfast food.

“Home Economics”

November 5th, 2009

One of the greatest qualities a comedy have is being both indulgent and nuanced at the same time, a task that Community has taken on with varied degrees of success in its first season. There are times when something like Abed’s love of pop culture references feels forced, but then there is something as hilarious as BatAbed (which is nuanced in the sense that it is both unquestionably funny and is worked into the plot of the episode) and it’s largely forgiven. That’s an important quality for a successful comedy, and what’s interesting with Community is how it seems like nearly every character is on that tightrope between becoming insular and one-minded before eventually breaking free and showing a more complex side.

“Home Economics” has nearly every character approaching the precipice of one-dimensionality, but the twists and turns within each story either perfectly service the nuances of their characters or, just as effectively, stick to what they’re best with. While Jeff went through a transformation in the episode that smartly humbled the character, Annie had a chance to experience a similar transformation and was unable to walk over the edge (of self-actualization – the edge of crazy was easily overcome). In both instances, elements of the storylines seemed like indulgences (of Joel McHale playing a complete slob, of Alison Brie playing a crazy person), and the supporting characters largely operated in their most base modes, but yet it managed to shed light on their characters even with that sense that this was more fun than it was functional.

While I’m not quite sure if Pierce has been getting the same treatment, even his subplot seemed to hit just as hard when it needed to, demonstrating that the show is definitely back in the pocket, so to speak.

The opening scene in this episode, once we get past Ken Jeung’s useless little cameo that establishes that Jeff is overtired, is a lot of fun. When Troy approaches Annie with a hypothetical about asking out a girl, we know enough about these characters to know that Annie will believe that Troy is talking about her and that Troy isn’t actually talking about her but is too clueless to realize that this could be a problem. And yet, despite how sure we are of this, there’s still a moment where Troy seems to realize where the awkwardness is coming from, only to pull right back into his typical mode and assuring her that Randi is, in fact, female and not male despite the androgynous nature of her name. The show loves those sort of balances as characters who could potentially evolve into something more are so stuck being nervous or clueless to get to that point.

The episode also uses it to demonstrate that Jeff Winger is not perfect, as he ends up living in his car after his Condo is falling out from under him and all he can do is hold tightly to his beloved Italian faucets. Jeff is someone who has defined himself as a stuck-up jerk, but who is told by Britta and others that he has a great chance to turn over a new leaf in his life by living within his means and finding a better version of himself. However, the episode shows that you can take such advice to heart a bit too much, as he devolves into a total slob living with Abed, losing any sense of the confidence that basically sustains him. The lesson he learns through Britta is that he can take parts of his own life with him (in this case, represented by his fancy faucets) in order to maintain part of his identity while crafting a new place for himself. The storyline served to both humanize Jeff (who can be a douchebag sometimes) and offer a nice shade to Britta and Jeff’s relationship. They’re not constantly trying to date one another, or constantly trying to avoid dating one another, and in this instance (despite Jeff’s teasing) this was really a gesture of genuine friendship and personal concern more than some sort of bizarre courtship ritual.

Annie and Troy got their similar moment, of course, but on a much lesser scale: while Jeff and Britta are real-life adults who are capable of making their own decisions to some degree but who have devolved in this particular setting, Troy and Annie are really just teenagers with no idea what they’re doing, so Troy victory is being able to do everything Annie tells him to and Annie’s victory is refusing to allow Troy to use her Grandparents’ courting quilt as a picnic blanket (after her attempts to ruin the date with fake appendicitis proved her previous best strategy). Alison Brie continues to give Annie a loveable insanity that’s pretty hard to dislike, and I like how Troy has remained both likeable and pretty stupid. They’re fun to watch, like the Natalie and Jeremy to Jeff and Britta’s Dana and Casey.

The episode was a bit more uneven with how it dealt with its three other characters, who I all enjoyed but to very different degrees. I liked how Abed was both an enabling influence on Jeff’s devolution and the person who first notices that it is growing unbecoming to the point of needing an intervention, and how Jeff realizes that Abed could be happy doing just about anything as long as he puts his mind to it. And I thought this was a downright great episode for Shirley, whether it was her frustration over stalking the wrong couple out of Spanish class or her advice-giving to Annie during her story. And while it proved more distracting than anything else, letting Chevy Chase have some fun with Vaughn and get trapped in the middle of keyboards was enjoyable if slight.

The show is just in a really solid place right now, and it came together into a fun episode that really did achieve both indulgence and some nice nuance, and made me laugh in the process.

Cultural Observations

• I think the first scene had Vaughn indicating that being toxic was the exact opposite of being an anti-oxidant, which just made me laugh.
• I do enjoy Patton Oswalt, but he seemed a bit wasted here as the male nurse in the clinic.
• I think I prefer “Britta is a B” to “Pierce to a B,” although the rap did give the latter a nice edge to it.
• Pierce’s “defence” of Britta was great, especially the Clown Makeup comment – Chase is doing some fine stuff with some limited material, and I enjoy this.

“Double Date”

November 5th, 2009

I was never what one would call a fan of the “Michael dates Pam’s Mom” storyline, and a lot of that has to do with what we got in “Double Date.” It’s not that I argued there was not comedy to be found in the scenario, as there certainly is some value to the storyline on a comic front. However, more than anything, the storyline is just plain awkward for Pam, and since we are predispositioned to see her viewpoint as the sane one we can’t help but find it a little awkward ourselves. And even if we choose to ignore Pam’s perspective, Michael’s view on the issue was sort of equally awkward in that he hangs onto her less because of love and more because of how ludicrously lonely he is. It all added up to a sense that this was going to go very wrong very quickly, and that’s not something that seemed necessary to me.

As such, I found “Double Date” to be a bit tough to watch in the way that the show sometimes likes to be, although it was probably as well handled as it could have gotten. While there were plenty of awkward moments in the context of the episode, they were all coming from a fairly logical place emotionally, and as such it was hard to watch less because of how inappropriate it was and more because we knew that anyone other than Michael with the same emotional feelings could have handled it far more gracefully. And by combining the emotional rollercoaster on that end with something charmingly quaint and silly in the Office, which could have been awkward but ended up working quite well, it ended up being a solid half hour of television, if not one that I would have personally placed into the show’s trajectory by choice.

What’s interesting about “Double Date” is that, to this point, Pam is the one who has been overreacting in this whole situation. Two people were made happier by Michael and Helene dating: Michael, and Helene. And while Pam might not have been pleased, both her mother and one of her friends (albeit a Michael Scott-type of friend) were happier as a result of this happening and so she should have been willing to give it more of a chance than she did. The only time she’s actually willing to give it a shot is once she realizes that Michael is effectively bailing on the relationship out of childish insecurity, at which point she can take back the higher ground and be the protective daughter as opposed to the petulant child (a role now taken over by Michael, who had the audacity to dump the woman on her birthday). It’s a role reversal that makes me personally sympathize with Michael, even though the episode vilifies him  by turning him into the bad guy: while Dwight and Andy were busy trying to avoid owing the other a favour, I don’t think that Michael owed Pam anything considering that she owed him an apology for being so frustrated with the relationship in the first place.

I don’t particularly like situations where Michael’s awkwardness becomes his only character trait, and I think that there was two different types of seasons that demonstrated why. The scene with Michael breaking up with her was enormously tough to watch, but at its core was real emotional leverage: Michael first attempted to use Pam as a scapegoat for the breakup, which is shady but the kind of survival tactic Michael reverts to in high pressure situations, but then he actually tells her the truth: whether it was said in the right terms or whether Michael’s attitude could have been better or if it perhaps could have done without the awkward pause for the waitress to pour water, he was simply saying how he felt. He could have picked a better setting, but Michael is not great at holding things in and in that moment he realized that this woman has already lived her life and that he wants to be able to live a life of his own as well, not just borrow her travel books on occasion. Michael wasn’t misreading the signs of that lunch so much as he HAD BEEN misreading the relationship since the beginning. He let his desire for companionship (lonely after his dream of he and Holly together forever was dashed, something the episode very carefully reminded us of) take him away from his life’s goals, and he wasn’t about to let that continue for one second.

That scene, I thought, was far superior to the scene where Pam and her mother talk about how hurt she is in the back seat while Michael sits there driving. Why wouldn’t she get a taxi? The scene only exists for Michael to awkwardly suggest she take up more hobbies, a cheap sequence meant to amplify the tension rather than drawing out any sort of human drive behind it. The dinner scene was perhaps more awkward, but it was more organically awkward: it’s one thing to see a situation that could be handled normally by someone who isn’t Michael Scott be bungled by Michael Scott, but it’s another to see a situation that’s just stereotypically awkward and that lacks humour or pathos as a result. Because there was that hint of truth to what Michael was saying, and because of how prevalent his sadness has been in episodes as of late, I thought the awkwardness was about as well-placed as it’s going to be, even if I prefer a less awkward depiction of the character.

The conclusion, as Michael and Pam end up in a Western-style showdown after Pam takes Michael up on his offer to let her hit him as compensation for the wrongs done to her, felt a bit too big for that scenario. I thought there were some fun moments building up to the scene, in particular Toby giving Pam punching tips as Michael watches on, but it all felt really unnecessary: Pam should have realized that Michael had been hurt enough in this scenario, and that all she ever really experienced was feeling very awkward (something the show can’t exactly claim is that terrible when it wants it to be the foundation of the episode’s comedy). But instead, the episode feels the need to go through with the charade, and even has Michael say something aggressively inappropriate (and to be honest, out of character) so that Pam does slap him, and so she does admit she doesn’t feel better, and so Dwight can put a frozen chicken against Michael’s face. That just didn’t add up for me, and doesn’t fit with how I’m reading the scenes involves, which again shows how different a wavelength I and the show are on with this storyline.

I think we were on the same page with Dwight’s silly efforts to have everyone in the office owe him a favour that he would eventually trade in so that he could oust Jim as Co-Manager. It’s the very definition of a harebrained scheme, but the storyline really popped when Andy (whose motivation was a desire to demonstrate just how quickly his politeness could be called into action) started getting in Dwight’s way by quickly paying him back. Wilson and Helms have always played well off of each other, but this one had some really great small moments between the two actors and larger moments like Dwight’s excitement at preparing Tacos. Plus, I love that it didn’t really alter any characters: Dwight is always scheming and manipulative, while Andy is always genuine to a fault, so it makes total sense that they would both be doing the same basic action for entirely different reason (Dwight to smite Jim, Andy to avoid Dwight dying being owed a favour and haunting him).

The episode had some funny moments, and I like where its pathos was heading, but a couple of wrong turns towards the end held it back for me. I’ll be curious where the show goes from here, since it seems like we’re officially done with this storyline and need a new direction to head in.

Cultural Observations

• It’s kind of weird that we left this storyline behind entirely last week, only for it to come back with such a vengeance this week – it’s not abnormal for the show, but it was still strange for some reason.
• Loved Michael trying to undercut the emotional value of his scrapbook as she was opening it, in particular admitting that he had blatantly plagiarized Shel Silverstein and that it was more of a bunt than a home run.
• The episode was really firing on all cylinders early with the supporting cast, as we got both Kelly’s amazing “Oh my god I love it” followed by a vehement headshake to the camera and Creed’s insistence that the fake phone call must have been a mistake, as that paper was never meant to be delivered. Love those little moments, as they always add a lot to the show.
• What, exactly, was up with Ryan’s creepy photography book? At this point BJ Novak is dressing weirder each week, and the nude photos were even more ridiculous, which is proving entertaining if sort of nonsensical.
• “You’re thinking of deer penis” was so deadpan it was marvelous, but “I could have grown poison mushrooms THIS HIGH BY NOW” cracked me up a lot more.
• The episode was directed by Seth Gordon, who is best known for directing the documentary The King of Kong (about Donkey Kong record holders) but who has also directed a few episodes of Greg Daniels’ other show Parks and Recreation: he’s a good fit for this type of style, and I thought the direction was strong here.

“Audition Day”

November 5th, 2009

I think that 30 Rock would be far funnier if it wasn’t so annoying.

This likely seems like a derogatory statement, but it’s really not: I thought “Audition Day” was the most enjoyable episode of the season yet, but yet I wouldn’t necessarily say it was that great, which reflects on both the quality of the season so far and the reality of this type of episode. It’s effectively a grab bag of comedy, as by the end of the episode you have plenty of jokes that you remember fondly, and callbacks to previous episodes that make you reminisce, and even some new jokes that really connect. However, while you’re happy with what you’ve received in those arenas, there’s also a bunch of other crap that didn’t connect comically, and that served only to promote business networking tools.

When there’s no real central premise to hold an episode like this one together, you’re left feeling like something was missing even as you gush over the genius of Brian Williams, which is pretty much where I stand with 30 Rock right now. I laughed, I commented on its cleverness, and yet still in the end I can’t help but be annoyed with elements of the episode that didn’t quite work. It’s particularly frustrating in that I actually think “Audition Day” was a pretty solid and funny episode, but there’s just something about the show that’s taking a shotgun approach to comedy that I’m just not responding well to.

At least we’ll always have Moonvest.

What worked in this episode was that, for the most part, everything was operating on the same level in terms of the episode’s central theme: the show is hiring a new cast member, and Liz and Pete are trying to convince Jack that it was his idea all along to hire the individual who they prefer. This leads to Tracy and Jenna turning paranoid, which leads to a zanier audition section than expected, which has a bedbug-riddled Jack in a different mood than the Hornberger Method could have predicted. As everything tumbled out of control, it felt like the episode itself was in control of how it tumbled out of control (if that makes any sense). As such, the overall storylines weren’t as much the issue as were the fact that every character basically became a joke machine in the process.

The effectiveness of those jokes were largely dependent on who was delivering them. The episode had a number of strong Liz lines, such as her mother sending her articles indicating the high value placed on older virgins in Mexico, and even Jenna (since she had an even crazier foil in Tracy) had a number of zingers both in relation to her occasional sanity (acknowledging being used to ground Kim Cattrall in auditions) and her relative ignorance (No, Devail is not the opposite of Prevail). And perhaps strongest of all was the greatness of Jack Donaghy’s crusade against bed bugs, as he learned how normal people live by taking the subway and having to appeal to them as if he were homeless. The product integration within his storyline was shameless and distracting (especially when the show does tongue-in-cheek NBC promotion every week as a joke), but when it actually turned into Jack experiencing something he had never experienced before (although not directly in Kenneth’s shoes, considering he only wears the one pair and sleeps in them) it was clever and enjoyable. That subway speech was great not only because of how Baldwin delivered it, but because Moonvest was one of the people slowly crawling away from him on the train, and that just cracked me up.

I like it when the show does just that, which it did some more later on. I enjoyed the janitor playing a character of an old janitor who gets fed up an stabs people, and I enjoyed Liz’s admonished “YOU ALSO TOLD ME TO BE A ROBOT” as Jack’s newfound common man experience makes him a changed judge. And while there were a number of cheap jokes amidst the auditions, Kathy Geiss as Susan Boyle was cute and I’ll never not love someone talking like Christopher Walker. But yet, there were also a lot of stinkers in that audition sequence, like the writers’ bits (none of which were laugh-worthy) or the fact that we were robbed of seeing Dot Com do Chekhov, or the throwaway joke about Kathy Geiss taking off her underpants. Those jokes aren’t hitting, nor are they necessary, but yet the show seems to insist on having them be present. I don’t know if it’s an issue of overstuffed scripts, or that these character pairings are just too fruitful for their own good, but the show could cut its bad jokes and still have enough material for 20 solid minutes of television comedy.

This is still a show that does many things well, such as the genius of Brian Williams or something as small as Liz knowing exactly why Kenneth would have let Jenna see the audition list for the new cast member (Luggage Store Jenna). But there was a time when I would have said the show could do anything well, such as a bit of shameless product integration. They might have been able to turn bed bugs into a fun little B-Story, but the skill to take it all and bring it together seems to have eluded them thus far this season. “Audition Day” wasn’t a tremendous effort, but it was the first time that I was more frustrated by the show’s failure than annoyed by its lack of quality, which is an emotional leap in the right direction if not a substantial one.

Cultural Observations

• It had nothing to do with the episode, but watching Scott Adsit turn a horizontal wheel in order to indicate the opening of a flood gate made me crack up far more than it should have.
• I don’t know why the show tried to make a “character is insensitive about Katrina and confuses it with something less tragic” joke when Dennis’ Superdome joke was already brilliant – don’t try to improve on perfection, show, you’ll fail every time.
• Horse in pantsuits: another point for Stone Mountain.
• Having Jaden actually turn out to be evil got us the fun joke about Liz admitting that she only doubted Jenna because she was never right, but it went a bit over the top with the genitalia photos and the like.
• Silly Liz: you forgot the robot! Did Robin Sparkles teach you nothing?

“After the Fall”

November 4th, 2009

“What exactly does that mean, start over?”

Going into the show’s fourth season, the narrative was drawn as clearly as the zig-zagging border line: with two football teams in town, one led by our fearless hero and the other by the villainous interlopers, this season was going to be about the fight between the Lions and the Panthers. And the season finale drew out this narrative, pitting the respective opening games of the two teams against each other as Coach Taylor put together a group of scrappy underdogs and Wade Aikman looked to continue the Panthers’ momentum from last year’s state championship appearance.

But what the season premiere demonstrated, as we abandoned the Panthers narrative to witness the bludgeoning of the East Dillon Lions to the point of Eric Taylor forfeiting the game, is that the show can’t sustain that narrative. The East Dillon Lions are not ready to become rivals with their crosstown brethren, for as we learn here they are not actually a team at all. After the humiliation of their loss, the players are either disillusioned by the less than glorious nature of the team or angry at Coach’s hypocrisy to warn them against quitting when he did the very same thing on Friday night.

What Coach Taylor needs to do is start over not so much in terms of abandoning these players, but rather shifting his own narrative perspective to one of building a team more than building a competitive one. They’re not unconnected ideas, of course, but the show has to essentially take a step back from the season’s central premise to get the Lions (independent of the Panthers, unless when entirely necessary) up to fighting shape.

The result is another strong episode, but one which is somewhat trapped by the need to rewind the clock and yet also advance ongoing storylines that don’t necessarily relate to the team.

The reason you get together to watch game tape is to do one of two things: you either learn from your mistakes after a loss, or you celebrate the plays that brought you to victory. The gap between these two teams was easily presumed during the premiere, but that sequence showing us the Panther success and a wide angle view of the Lions’ failure confirms that there is no rivalry here, at least not on the field. I noted last week that this is the Lions’ story and not the story of their rivalry with the Panthers, as evidenced by the fact that we never returned to the Panthers’ game after the coin toss, but this episode confirms this: the Panthers are planning for their next game, not their next meeting with the Lions, and they are on such a different level that the show isn’t concerned about their success unless when it directly impacts the character and the team we are following.

In this episode, of course, we get the inevitable: upon first meeting Luke Cafferty, who unlike J.D. and the rest of the Panthers presented himself as a decent human being capable of not being a complete jerk, it was pretty predictable that he would eventually find himself in a Lions uniform. It’s not a good sign for the amount of time we’ll be spending with the Panthers that the one non-J.D. player we’ve met has now defected, and I think that’s for the best. I have my issues with this storyline, primarily why the purposefully convoluted redistricting wasn’t changed in order to allow this supposed star to play for the team he’s worked so hard to be a part of, but I like the way that new cast member Matt Lauria really plays Cafferty as someone too earnest by half. The scene where he negotiates with Tami is perhaps a bit overly emotional, but I love the moment where he apologizes for lying to her: the episode doesn’t delve into his back story any further than it needs to, but you can see how he was given a chance to live his dream against the odds by Joe McCoy and the Boosters, and how not taking that opportunity would have torn him up just as much.

When Luke shows up to the 10pm Lions practice wearing his Dillon Panthers shirt, we know it’s not intended as a slight: he’s going to a football practice, and that shirt is part of his football identity. When he eventually throws it into the fire, it’s a sign that he’s willing to follow Coach Taylor on a new journey, and that he’s willing to take part in a new battle. Luke’s arrival creates some problems we’ll be seeing in the weeks ahead (like how both Vince and Luke are running backs, and thus compete for the same position), but it also helps to create some interesting dynamics within the team. The premiere emphasized how the team was unorganized chaos without much sense of individual identity beyond Landry and Vince, and here we get a player who has a unique place within the team and whose integration will be a different sort of challenge for Coach Taylor to handle. I saw this coming from the moment we met Luke in the premiere, of course, but it was still really well handled and felt like the kind of story the redistricting was built for.

Everything involving the Lions and the Panthers in this one was pretty good, to be honest with you. This is two straight episodes with Tami getting one over on McCoy and Aikman, and that’s a trend I’d like to see continue. What works about Tami’s victories is that they’re never definitive: she may be able to stop McCoy from digging up the ancient past about previous Dillon Panthers, but she can’t stop him from souring the student body against her and making her life more difficult at the pep rally and beyond. However, we can’t help but love Tami for arguing about the other Boosters sitting in the room twisting their State Championship rings that McCoy would take away from them. It’s important to acknowledge that Joe McCoy is not Buddy Garrity, and he lacks a connection to this team beyond a desire for his son to win and move onto bigger things. He doesn’t actually care about their state championship rings or their past, and his willingness to tear it all apart shows his true colours in a way that the boosters won’t take well if they decide that his money and his son aren’t worth the risk to their legacy. Buddy stays with the Panthers because he fears his car dealership will be boycotted by the community for the abandonment, but his heart is with East Dillon and there may come a point in time where the real legacy of Dillon football is with Taylor and not with the glory on the West side.

While it was a bit reductive of Coach’s past attempts to hunt down individual players, there was some similarly enjoyable stuff when it came to Eric trying to pull together his team. From the scene with the white flags on the front lawn (and Tami trying desperately to remove them all before Eric wakes up) to his efforts to hunt down Vince both at home (where his mother, likely strung out, begs him for money) and while shooting hoops, Eric is trying to make something out of nothing, and ends up placing his trust in players like Vince (who needs this sense of purpose even if he’s turned off by the taunting following the forfeit) and Landry (who, in a nice bit of plotting, first resents the coach before eventually being the second to throw his jersey into the fire) to help bring the team together. And the reductiveness that makes it seem repetitive for us would seem doubly repetitive for Eric himself, who went from coaching a team with hope and a future to a team who doesn’t even exist until players work out their issues and choose to come to the field for a fresh start. In the process he runs into Landry’s sense of pride and Vince’s daddy issues, and while these aren’t entirely new ideas they felt natural in the context of the events being introduced.

Where the episode started to fall off the rails somewhat, if we’re being honest, is in the duelling storylines between the two ex-Panthers that remain within our ranks. The problem with the storylines offered Tim Riggins and (especially) Matt Saracen is that they are simultaneously too connected thematically and not connected enough practically to the rest of the story. In this episode, Matt visits with an avant garde metal worker who walks around in his underwear and is told that there is a single element of his artwork which doesn’t make the guy puke which he should focus on. Effectively, it’s a message that Matt should “start over,” which happens to be a key theme in the episode. However, the scenes don’t feel as if they have any real purpose, and while Smash and Street (in their goodbyes) both had periods of uncertainty they also felt more connected to either a compelling real world scenario (Street’s young child) or to part of the show’s existing aesthetic (Smash’s football dreams). Gilford is a good actor, and the scenes weren’t poorly conceived, but the storyline felt too conveniently themed in the same vein as the episode. I needed to see more of what Matt Saracen actually wanted, and a quick conversation in the car with Julie isn’t enough to do it for me.

And while Tim Riggins gets a bit more time here, and got more time in the opening episode, there’s something about his trajectory that similarly lacked focus here. It seemed like we were missing a few scenes where we saw why he was so willing to offer Coach Taylor help, and why he wasn’t at the 10pm practice to help bring the troops together. I was convinced that Tim was going to be the person who helped bring the team together, uniting them under one common goal, but this didn’t happen. On the one hand, I understand why: it is more valuable, and more powerful, for the new characters and the people on the team to self-actualize in this instance. On the other hand, it turned the scene into a random aside, as if Tim had simply been walking by and happened to enter into the episode’s main narrative. The rest of his story, as young Becky (Madison Burge) uses his tow truck for a free lift and bristles a bit as Tim moves into a trailer in her backyard after her mother offers it up to him, wasn’t bad so much as it was a simple “present a problem, offer a solution” scenario. I think using Tim to get to know Becky isn’t a bad idea, as I like her energy and straight talking thrown up against his stolid nature, but it just seemed like this was going through the motions of Tim achieving Maslow’s hierarchy of needs as opposed to establishing why he needs that or, more importantly, why he would be so eager to help out Eric with the Lions.

I think that both of these stories are interesting, but handling both of them in the same episode like this gives neither of them much spark. I’m fine with basically marking time with them before something more substantial happens, but both characters are aimless and wandering and whereas Smash and Street both had Coach Taylor to give them a hand and pull things together he can’t be in three places at once. It’s let these characters drift in a way that has narrative value, demonstrating how staying in Dillon has set them down paths that may not give them the opportunities they want or deserve, but it needs to be focused in order to tap into that. Both characters stumbled into ways to make life in Dillon work out for them, but the episode could have done more to indicate that those realities would make Tim happy to stay while they could offer Matt the ability to leave. I just want something more substantial from these two, and right now the show is in too many different places to give it to me.

But there’s a whole season ahead of us, and part of the episode’s modus operandi is basically throwing on the brakes: we’re not to the point where Saracen is ready to leave Dillon, or at the point where Tim Riggins is prepared to examine his future from a critical perspective, or at the point where the East Dillon Lions are a legitimate football team. The premiere gave us a taste of that last feeling before taking it all away, and now we get to see the show build from the ground up. And while that created a whole lot of moving pieces in this one, requiring that some of them take a back seat, it continues to set up into a season that plays into the show’s strengths. While not quite the pillar of narrative purity that the premiere was, building off of the strength of the finale, this nicely reorients the audience into what to expect in the weeks ahead.

Cultural Observations

• As Alan Sepinwall’s headline points out, the search for Vince immediately threw up “Where’s Wallace?” references for me. Speaking of Vince, his daddy issues also sent me back to 30 Rock, and the extended montage of Tracy Jordan’s “You’re not my dad” moments in childhood.
• The entire “You gotta find your inner pirate” sequence was a bit convenient (having a random passerby approach Eric about ways in which he should motivate the team), but the scene was intriguing enough as justification for Eric’s pirate-esque burning of the uniforms (which was great both as an evocative scene and for the hilarious final line of “I have to find a way to get new uniforms”) that I’ll let it pass as a bit of magic realism not that uncommon amongst football-crazy Texas.
• The Big Bang Theory did a storyline this week about the level to which high school football permeates Texas culture even for someone like Sheldon, so it was interesting to see that the East Dillon Lions, despite being a new team, were met with anger as a result of their loss. Julie walked through the darkened halls long enough to confirm the external shots of the school weren’t lying about its more “dangerous” state, but I do kind of want to see more of what life at East Dillon is like to understand how they relate with the team beyond their generalized frustration with the forfeit.
• I think the thing I find most bizarre about the craziness surrounding high school football is that so many people would willingly go to school on a Saturday – boggles my mind.
• We also got to meet Jurnee Smollett’s Jess Merriweather (who spelled out her last name very carefully) this week, the last of the new characters (I believe) to be introduced. She was a bit thinly drawn for my tastes, and it seemed like there was a scene or two missing in their storyline as well, but pairing her with Landry is never a bad way to bring a character into the fold (presuming Landry isn’t going to kill them), and Steve Harris is an enjoyable actor to have on board as her diner-owning/running father.
• “What are you doing?” “Drinkin’ wine.” – I love Connie Britton so much.

“Don’t Come Around Here No More”

November 4th, 2009

It’s been a while (since, you know, the show’s pilot) since I’ve visited Cougar Town from a critical perspective, as the show has largely stood to serve as background for my Modern Family review writing. There are worse fates for a series, of course, such as not watching them at all, but with Cougar Town I feel as if there’s a definite need to say something about a show that’s been unfairly maligned in some respects and quite fairly attacked in others.

There were moments in the first six episodes of the show that it became the show that some critics and viewers make it out to be, an overacted farce of an insufferable woman dating a younger man. But what I liked about the show was that it was never just that show, never just a show about that particular phenomenon. Instead, the show was about a woman dealing with a lousy ex-husband who remains in her life, an overly critical best friend, a dependent co-worker, a sarcastic son, an antagonistic neighbour, etc. And what makes me stick with the show is that for all of Courteney Cox’s overacting (which is truly bad at points) is that, by and large, I like those character. I like Bill Lawrence’s writing style, I like the dynamic between the different characters (Bobby remaining friends with Ellie’s husband, for example), and I think there’s an engaging show here.

And to be honest, I thought “Don’t Come Around Here No More” brought it out. With Jules’ boyfriend out of the picture, the show becomes a show about a “cul-de-sac crew” rather than about simply Jules’ character, and even elements of the episode which in theory should have amplified Jules’ worst qualities connected for me. It’s still not a perfect series, but this half-hour was a lot of fun and I’m not going to pretend my Modern Family review wasn’t later because of it.

It makes sense that this episode would move away from Jules’ insanity, considering that last week we got rid of poor, poor Josh. The idea of giving Jules a younger boyfriend wasn’t a terrible one, but their break-up was the sort of protracted affair that just didn’t work in practice. Cox was too prone to diving into Jules’ neuroses with abandon, and the entire thing just didn’t work. Here, however, the show makes Jules’ very aware of one of her neuroses (her inability to remain alone) to the point where she purposefully attempts to curb that behaviour. As a result, the character is more toned down, and the episode is better for it. Even when we get the montage (which the show has put to good use in the past) of her time alone, which I thought would have the character losing her mind, it’s more frustrating than crazy, and the only over-acting is a justified reaction to a crocodile. I was fully expecting it to be a total mess, but it ended up being pretty enjoyable. The episode synopsis claims that the episode is actually about Jules going on a date with an older man, but rather than being the point of the episode it pretty much is just a brief aside before focusing on more interesting things.

The episode is also helped by having quite a few fun elements for the men, who have really been holding down the fort on the show even as Jules has been particularly all over the place. The episode had a chance to go into a really annoying place by turning Jules’ sex dream about Grayson into an ongoing sense of tension, but her neighbourly overshare makes it a quick little note before the episode goes for something a bit more subtle. The show has slowly been wearing down Grayson to become part of the group, and I thought the troubadouring and the Rudy viewing were both examples of why I like both Josh Hopkins and this character. He is willing to criticize Jules where others aren’t, and I like what he adds to the show – plus, let’s face it, “Comfortable in my Sexuality” was kind of catchy.

The episode also succeeded in making Jules’ decision to break the bet into something more than a crazy and wacky journey. She breaks it not through slapstick attempts to avoid doing so but by accepting that people need her, or that people want to talk to her, or that she needs people too. The episode has no greater moral than the importance of having a group of people around you, and in the process the show demonstrated it has the same feeling about its ensemble. I genuinely love this cast on paper, and they’re doing some fine work both with broad comedy (Dan Byrd playing both the pumpkin explosion and the awkward flirting with gusto) and with more emotional stuff (like the always great Brian Van Holt helping bring Ellie and Andy back together). It’s just an enjoyable cast, and when an episode feels designed to work with them the show clicks.

It’s still not perfect, some jokes falling flat here and there and Busy Phillipps’ wonderful performance never quite making me care about Laurie as I may about other characters, but I am charmed by this show’s universe. It will be interesting to see if the show returns to Jules’ younger lovers in earnest, or her love life in general, but this episode demonstrates that Lawrence and Co. see as much as we do that the show is more engaging as an ensemble piece than as “Cox Gone Wild.”

Cultural Observations

• This is the moment where I have to admit that I’ve never watched The Shawshank Redemption or the final 2/3 of Rudy. *Ducks*
• It’s interesting to see that the show has been retaining more of the Modern Family lead-in than one might have anticipated: it doesn’t seem as if the show would be entirely compatible especially considering how divisive Cox’s character has been, but it’s been holding well since it got its full season order.
• While we’re here, in case you didn’t hear, Scrubs (in its new format) will debut its 9th season on December 1st, at which point Bill Lawrence will officially have taken over ABC. It’s not clear if ABC’s stroke of luck with non-Hank comedies this season will extend to his other show, but I hope it does for both it and Better Off Ted (which arrives December 8th for its second season).

“En Garde”

November 4th, 2009

I have mentioned on numerous occasions that I love the interaction that Twitter creates between critics regarding various TV shows, and today was a fine example of that. A single comment from Alan Sepinwall that Parks and Recreation could be the best comedy currently on the air resulted in a wealth of comments, some of which defended Modern Family as, well, the best comedy currently on the air. This resulted in a conversation between myself, Matt Roush and James Poniewozik about ABC’s new hit comedy, in particular the sense of “warmth” that has defined the show in its early episodes.

My argument is that the show has been TOO defined by that warmth to the point where it’s become expected. Part of what made the pilot stand out was that it went from a traditional sitcom (with the various family settings) to a simultaneously absurd (Lion King, anyone?) and heartwarming (Jay coming to terms with his new grandchild) conclusion. However, a lot of the episodes since that point have done exactly the same thing, and while the absurd has remained pretty strong due to some great performances the warmth has begun to wear thin for me. It’s not that I don’t think the warmth is an important part of the show’s identity, but rather that when it presents the same way every single time.

“En Garde” is an enjoyable episode that has some nicely absurd moments and some nice subtle comedy, but the conclusion feels forced in a way that could just be the show’s shtick but also seems to me to be simplifying the show’s formula to a fault.

My favourite thing about this episode was something that the show never brought to our attention: having established that Jay loves creating gimmick t-shirts for his family, the show clearly points out the humour with “Who Da Manny?” and “Haley’s Comets” before letting the joke move into the background. However, for astute viewers, the show has Claire wearing a “Claire and Present Danger” t-shirt. It’s funny because the show never fully draws attention to it, and because it both further establishes Jay’s character and is probably the cleverest of the puns. When something is introduced into this universe, it’s not done in a half-assed fashion, and subtle moments like that endear me to the show.

I also like how the episode delved into the show’s past in order to draw out further dynamics between the show’s family members. The Claire/Mitchell plot was strong not because it told us something new (we know that Claire and Mitchell haven’t always gotten along) but because it helped to explain that pre-determined behaviour in the same way that Shelley Long’s arrival demonstrated how they came to be on opposite teams (to use the episode’s terminology). The fact that they remember that much of the choreography is a bit strange, but it resulted in a really enjoyable sequence that felt like Claire and Mitchell reaching a new stage in their relationship. Combine with Cameron’s commentary on the discussion, especially the fact that he was unable to stand the tension in regards to a bag of orange slices, and you have a storyline that fits these characters and ends with a fun bit of absurdism.

I also liked the general story of Manny’s fencing that seemed to branch off into the various other stories, both because it makes total sense for Manny to be great at fencing and because it was the kind of event the entire family would attend and thus justify this sort of interconnected narrative. The event itself falling into absurdist territory was a lot of fun with the outgoing support for Manny turning into terror, and little moments like the “cut it out” hand gesture being taken for the “rip off her head” gesture. I also like that they didn’t turn the girl into a total charity case, as she actively wanted to be aggressive and just wasn’t as good. It’s not as if Manny did anything particularly terrible, but rather that the situation changed in ways that were out of his control.

My problem with the episode, however, is in those final moments when a Jay voiceover establishes a preachy conclusion to the episode and its theme of wanting to see your children succeed in life no matter what their goals. It’s not that I don’t think there’s room for such a conclusion to the episode, but the voiceover is on the nose to the point of being patronizing. If the show wants its calling card to be these kinds of endings, that’s fine, but the episode had clearly laid out the idea of a family as a team (Claire and Mitchell’s storyline did this well) and thus didn’t need the voiceover to establish the point for us. In fact, the schmaltzy nature of the conclusion actually seemed as if it was glossing over some of the intricacies of the conclusion: I don’t think that Claire would be nearly so happy to have the video of her performance with Mitchell on YouTube (why not throw it in iMovie to avoid that issue?), and it made the finale of the sequence a bit strange. You could argue that the emphasis that it’s all about the hardware undercuts the sugary message of the passage, but then we get the picture of Mitchell and Claire beside the trophy, implying that it too is hardware of a sort. It just seems like the conclusion wasn’t funny nor was it anything the show hasn’t done before, so what’s the point?

I know that this is a sitcom, and not every episode has to have a point, but these conclusions make it seem like they do have a point, and a broadly defined and uninteresting one at that. The show’s warmth may be important to its identity, but the voiceover is not required for this to be true, and for me is actually distracting from the show’s comedy and its characters. “En Garde” is a solid episode that continues to show the qualities that make the series engaging, but that ending is just rubbing me the wrong way.

Cultural Observations

• Love that my discussion of this subject on Twitter before posting my review then led to yet another debate (spurned by general guru Jaime Weinman) about the use of the preachy moral endings prominent within single-camera sitcoms.
• While various elements of the series feel like Arrested Development (including the moral endings), the photo of Mitchell and Claire’s figure skating days gave me deifnite flashbacks to Motherboy.
• Mitchell and Cameron’s interactions are always fun, but I really liked “hurtful bubbling.” It was a really fun term, for some reason.
• The Phil subplot was ultimately a failure, primarily because it seemed a bit isolated from the rest of the stories. I like Luke’s lack of intelligence, but it seemed like we were following him only for Phil to have to crawl under cars for baseballs and slip on slippery stairs. Alex was the more engaging kid in the episode (the “iPod in the mouth” scene made me chuckle), but we follow Luke because he brings out Phil’s most marketable quality.