Mon, September 26, 2011

I learned a lot this week. First, I learned that it is really hard to stay on a deadline with these columns. Also, I learned that even if I really really only want to take on one or two new shows, watching all of them is so tempting that I end up recording dozens of second episodes when I know I absolutely mustn't. (So far, only six shows have been given the final axe, out of 29 new and returning shows that have debuted to date. That's just not sustainable, even if several of those are on "just one more episode" status – mainly because Ringer earned that designation last week and again this week.) So I guess what I'm saying is that I've come to understand that there will be no ATGoNFP next year. Keeping this up after adding a day job and a child to the mix would just be insanity.

Here are a few other things I've learned from this week's new shows:

I. The Whitney Cummings Explosion is DOA

This should come as no surprise. If you've seen her stand-up, you know she attempts to adopt a Sarah Silverman vibe, cute-but-foul-mouthed, as though that's all there is to Silverman's talent and success. The result is not pretty, and even less funny. Attempting to base a show around this personality – a sexy, ball-bustin' one-of-the-bros girlfriend – is a pretty terrible idea. Two shows is a catastrophe. Both shows are multi-camera productions with a studio audience, but Whitney begins with one of those voice-over announcements from the '80s: "Whitney is filmed before a live studio audience. You heard me." as though they are challenging us to find fault with that. Well, I do. Studio audience shows tend towards a lazier writing approach: there's the tittering of an audience, which has been coached and which can be sweetened in post, providing a soft landing for all the worst material. A lot of multi-camera shows hide behind this (comedy is hard, after all; and making it on a budget and a rushed TV schedule is even harder). Whitney and 2 Broke Girls are about as lazy as any sitcom we've seen since the demise of the UPN channel. Every single tired scenario or predictable punch line is punctuated with a burst of noticeably sweetened audience laughter, so that there are unnatural pauses in the middle of sentences just for it to be shoved in. "Don't smile," says Kat Dennings, showing the new waitress the ropes at the greasy spoon where she works in 2 Broke Girls. This is followed by uproarious canned laughter. She goes on: "'Cause it raises the bar and then I have to smile and I can't be doing that – it's exhausting and I have a bad back. [UPROARIOUS CANNED LAUGHTER] That's Earl, we're in love. [UPROARIOUS CANNED LAUGHTER] Do not talk to him unless you want to feel whiter than you already are. [HYSTERICAL CANNED LAUGHTER] Oh, and that stain? [on the new girl's uniform] That's not clam chowder. [MORE CRAZED LAUGHTER]" Earl, by the way, is Garrett Morris, who was never the funniest Not Ready for Prime Time Player, but still deserves a better fate than being stuck in a register booth at the back of this set and delivering lines that are only "funny" because he is old and/or black. Whitney has a scene in a sex shop (of course it does) which is no longer than three lines, and sounds as though she took a bit from her stand-up routine and divided it into thirds so each character could bark part of it at the sales clerk (who is, of course, dressed in a preposterous leather bustier). Then, it's off to the next scene, 90 seconds successfully ticked off the clock.

Further, 2 Broke Girls is crude, vulgar, and offensive. I was surprised I even noticed this, because normally I am all of those things, and very difficult to offend – but inserting this material into a context where it makes no sense just makes my skin crawl. Dennings, once an innocent cutie starring alongside Michael Cera, opens the show with a punchline (I swear I'm not making this up) employing the phrase "that dries up my vagina." Whitney has its crude lines, too, and Cummings (who stars, produces, and is the sole credited writer on the pilot episode) hides behind a device where she puts the worst stuff in the mouth of other characters and then has her character react in mock horror. These lines are tame and harmless, but they feel out of place, and that makes the whole enterprise all the more desperate – like premium cable shows that throw in extra profanity and nudity just because they can, as though it somehow makes the writing better. I'm frequently signing petitions to get naked boobs and graphic sex on prime time network TV (usually petitions I've written myself), but this felt gratuitous and unseemly, even to me. There's simply nothing redeeming whatsoever about either one of these shows – and that's what offends me most about the multi-camera format. If people like Whitney Cummings and Chuck Lorre are the only ones doing it, its reputation is going to get worse than it already is. (I'm sorry – worse than it already motherfucking is.)

2 Broke Girls CBS, Mondays at 8:30
Whitney NBC, Thursdays at 9:30

II. Not That Single-Camera Comedy Is Easy, Mind You

Zooey Deschanel is adorable and very entertaining. New Girl follows her character as she moves in with three guys following a bad breakup. They watch, mystified, as she drowns her sorrows in repeated viewings of Dirty Dancing and flops on the couch in tears. Deschanel is as great as she ever is, but the three guys are essentially interchangeable "dudebro" bachelor types (so interchangeable, in fact, that the black one – Damon Wayans, Jr. – was replaced in episode two). On the page, this show would scarcely be bearable. Only Deschanel makes it worth watching, which is what she does to most things she's in.

New Girl has a somewhat offbeat energy and pacing. Nothing necessarily wrong with that; if every show were paced exactly like Modern Family, The Office, and 30 Rock it might get old! But the sum of New Girl is pretty much the exact sitcom you'd expect Zooey Deschanel to make in a completely idealized hypothetical world – but with a network-mandated equal-time provision for the male storylines. Which, if we're honest, is not necessarily the ideal sitcom, as fun as Deschanel may be to watch. I'm all for TV comedies that leave something to the imagination, that require something from the viewer rather than spoon-feeding obvious punch lines – but shows like New Girl still feel a little unfinished. I'll be pleasantly surprised if it's still around at the end of November. Hopefully, if it is, it will have improved somewhat in that time.

New Girl Fox, Tuesdays at 9:00

III. The Networks Have Noticed The Ratings "The Closer" Gets

And Rizzoli and Isles, too! No, I'm kidding. I'm sure that's not the reason we have two new cop dramas headlined by women (and one detective show headlined by three of them). I adore Poppy Montgomery and although I never liked Maria Bello on ER, I've been awed by her film work since. I'm sure it's a coincidence that this season has a preponderance of strong female leads, but even if not, even if someone is noticing the awards that The Good Wife is racking up and realizing that there may be TV viewers alive who are not 18- to 35-year-old males but still enjoy good television, well, good for them.

CBS has launched Unforgettable to keep Montgomery off the unemployment lines since they wrapped up Without a Trace. The premise is that her character has this real ability called hyperthymesia, which allows perfect recall of any event she's experienced (it's so real even Marilu Henner has it – ask her what flavor the bagels were on the Taxi set in 1979). As with any such show in which a character has a strong ability, she's called up on to demonstrate it, parlor trick style, at the old folks' home where she volunteers. This takes the form of a Wikipedia entry instead of a memory from her personal life (she's asked to list everything important that happened on a certain date), and serves as a bad introduction to her abilities. Later, when she witnesses a grisly murder in her apartment building, we see a different view of this talent: a slow-motion virtual reality flashback in which Montgomery walks around the scene, observing her remembered self interacting with other people, murder weapons, clues, etc. I can't imagine this is an entirely accurate portrayal of the hyperthymesia experience either, but it sure looks fancy. It's hard to imagine how this will crop up in every crime she investigates – she opens the show counting cards at illegal back-room casinos, which seems like a steadier path to success. Still, the show isn't entirely bad, even if it does suffer some familiar introductory beats: meeting a man from her past; resisting when he asks her to come back to police work, helping out on "just one case", then agreeing to take up the badge again; a dark backstory with her sister's murder which she's never stopped investigating. I like Montgomery, and the show is serviceable, but there are better cop shows out there – if I want to see an Australian with special mental powers solve crimes on CBS, I'll stick with The Mentalist, which is excellent and getting better all the time.

Or perhaps Prime Suspect, in which Maria Bello depicts one of those tough-as-nails lady detectives who is battling to make a place for herself in a precinct dominated by male pigs who refuse to listen to anything she says just because she's a girl. As dull and familiar as that sounds, Prime Suspect does a fairly good job of making the conflict seem real and the characters interesting. Bello turns in a fine performance as a flawed character who's content to fail at everything else in her life if she can just be good at her job, and she would be if anyone would notice. The show has a raw, aggressive edge to it, which is expected given Peter Berg's role as producer. It's not unlike anything you've ever seen before, not trying to draw you in with a "hook", it's just well made and built around an interesting character with a phenomenal lead actress. More shows should be like this. (I think, for all its ripped-from-the-headlines beginnings, The Good Wife has evolved into a show very much like this, though a little more refined around the edges.)

Unforgettable CBS, Tuesdays at 10:00
Prime Suspect NBC, Thursdays at 10:00

IV. Rich Guys Love Justice

In troubled times, lots of rich guys want to sponsor elite crime-fighting forces with all that money they're getting in tax cuts that are starving police budgets and contributing to all that extra crime that's lying around. Person of Interest follows Michael Emerson, the bug-eyed creepy guy from Lost, who is a bug-eyed creepy limping guy who made a fortune developing software for the government, including a data mining solution to help sift through all the wiretaps and security camera footage and purloined e-mail messages the intelligence community has on its hands due to the USA PATRIOT Act. His software secretly e-mails him information about crimes which will be too small to merit the government's intervention, but nevertheless he feels he can prevent them. (There's a semi-plausible explanation for how this happens, but really, do you care?) With money as no object, he's built all kinds of cool technology to help him track down these crimes before they happen, but he needs someone to go out and kick ass, because he's just a meek nerd (and did I mention he has a limp?). That's where he partners up with Jim Caviezel, who plays a former Army Ranger with all sorts of special forces training, who's gone off the grid since he lost his girlfriend. He shows up (after one of many flashbacks) as a scraggly-bearded bum on a New York subway, who intervenes with tactical hand-to-hand combat when some punk teens start trouble. This Jesus-meets-Jason-Bourne display is caught on surveillance cameras, which means NYC detective Taraji P. Henson is eyeing him now, too. The action is well crafted, the show has an intriguing approach to crime-solving, and Michael Emerson's Michael Emersoniness (staring into the middle distance while speaking inscrutably) is kept to a minimum, since he's got to man the computer terminal at headquarters and relay information to Caviezel in the middle of his derring-do. The show looks like another infuriating J.J. Abrams dud, in the vein of Fringe and the second half of Lost, but it actually delivers a far more satisfying experience. If it manages to steer clear of too much further down-the-rabbit-hole mythological mystique, I'll keep watching it.

Re-making Charlie's Angels is just a terrible idea. The results are exactly what you'd expect from ABC in an 8pm time slot. Victor Garber is magnificent as always, voicing Charles Townsend, the unseen benefactor who outfits the Townsend Agency with high-tech gadgetry, private planes, and fast cars – but even he can't save this terrible show. The Bill Murray movie came out pretty good, but I'm convinced this premise is not cut out to be adapted for modern audiences, especially not on a TV budget. Drew Barrymore from the movie is one of the show's producers, but it seems more like it's been developed by Monica Seles, there's so much high-pitched female grunting in the many inexplicable fight scenes. Loyalties and motivations change as often as the skimpy outfits, and it's almost like nobody even bothered to worry about making sense, since there are flashy cars and bright colors. For the most part, it employs the plotting of a porn movie, where brief interludes prop up the flimsiest excuse for characters to have sex (or, in this case, fistfight or chase a guy on a motorcycle). I'd actually respect it if the show fully embraced this approach – just non-stop action with a few quick lines to justify the next crazy stunt scene – but I guess the dialogue scenes are cheaper to produce. So, they always wedge in a bunch of meaningless babble, with everyone lounging on oddly shaped modern furniture while Bosley beams information to their iPads, rather than simply standing around his iPad (or maybe passing the thing – portability is kind of its feature?). In the end, Bosley visits Minka Kelly to extend an offer to join the Angels, and she declines. Wait– has she heard Bosley's five-minute meandering collection of vague platitudes regarding "family" and "second chances"? No, she's really set against it and has her own plans – prefers to work alone. How about one more completely meaningless aphorism about trust and saving the world? Okay, now she's in.

Charlie's Angels ABC, Thursdays at 8:00
Person of Interest CBS, Thursdays at 9:00

V. Every Woman Born in the Early 1940s Was a Slut

Pan Am and The Playboy Club are paying licensing fees to a defunct company, and another on the brink of bankruptcy, for the right to transport us back to the 1960s, a simpler time when you could fly on a plane without feeling like a prisoner, and the objectification of women wasn't something women objected to. Both shows put sex appeal in the foreground and feature an ensemble of young women embroiled in various dramatic scenarios that range from interesting to wholly implausible (but nonetheless interesting). Pan Am is produced by a real-life former flight attendant who asserts that the craziest of its plot lines – a stewardess who's called upon to spy for the government – might actually have happened. The makers of The Playboy Club make no such claims about any truth behind their heroine's accidental murder of a mafia boss which causes the Chicago mob to surround her and the club key holder who helped her hide the body (and used to work for the mob).

Both shows are pretty to look at (and I don't just mean the ladies), with Pan Am revealing mostly-digital vistas from faraway lands and The Playboy Club giving a cinematic look to lighting, lavish sets, and flashy costumes. Neither show is particularly bad – Pan Am feels a little rushed and superficial so far, and The Playboy Club has an American Dreams component with music-show interludes that seems like an odd distraction – but neither is particularly excellent, either. The eye candy seems to carry the bulk of both shows (and in that regard, The Playboy Club comes out ahead). I've never favored the drama shows with sprawling ensembles – it seems you must either ignore large parts of the cast for stretches of multiple episodes, or give everyone a storyline each week with the result being quick and simple stories lacking depth. I won't pretend I'm not going to watch the bunnies for another hour (Amber Heard gives "doe-eyed" a new dictionary definition) but I don't think either show is destined for greatness.

The Playboy Club NBC, Mondays at 10:00
Pan Am ABC, Sundays at 10:00

VI. This Organizational Device Has Reached Its Breaking Point

There are two more shows that debuted this week and I don't really have a way to tie them together. Revenge surprised me by being a little more interesting than I was expecting, for a Dynasty-style prime time soap. Credit to Emily VanCamp for giving an ambivalent edge to her character, who is enacting a long-form revenge plot against the family of tycoons who scapegoated her father when their company got busted for some dirty financial dealings. Before he went away for life, he invested in an online startup, and now that he's dead, she's got billions of dollars and all the time in the world to meticulously plot the takedown of everyone who contributed to his suffering. What's fun about this is that each episode brings incremental process on the big plot, but also many little pranks along the way, stirring up trouble for the wealthy scumbags just for the good feeling it gives her. The premiere begins with the shooting death of her fiancé, the son of the family she's after, then flashes back to the beginning of the summer when she first arrives in the Hamptons to start on her plan, meeting him at a party. It's not revealed whether she herself shot the guy, but she's definitely not sorry about it. I've heard from some who felt the twists in this were obvious and telegraphed too far ahead. That wasn't my experience – if anything, the problem was that the show couldn't resist recapping her sneaky exploits after all was said and done. But most shows have that problem: they just can't rely on the audience to connect the dots on their own.

I began A Gifted Man with high hopes for a grown-up drama that was just about an interesting character, exploring ideas and feelings without a soap opera drama background, or a lives-on-the-line angle, or a quirky-dopey tone. Patrick Wilson is a fine actor, and his inherent humanity helps overcome the abrasive edge the uptight neurosurgeon he inhabits. He's not a mean guy – he just sort of turned out a little clipped and distant, as a result of pressure and time constraints and isolation. Then his dead ex-girlfriend shows up and starts talking to him, and even if she weren't a ghost, the actress is doing a really pitiful Meryl Streep impression with that crooked, tight-lipped smile and lilting delivery, and it's just impossible to watch her scenes without wanting to retch. I wouldn't mind watching this guy strive to be a better man, even if the impetus were a supernatural event and the show offered no other explanation except a ghostly visitation. I just can't watch it if she's going to keep popping up. The show has a nice cast, including Julie Benz and Margo Martindale who went out and won an Emmy the week before it premiered. I could see it sailing through seven or eight fairly standard seasons, or I could see it crashing and burning by Christmas. If it's still around next year, I might check it out again. I really like many parts of it, except one part I can't stand. For shows like Parks and Recreation and How I Met Your Mother, I seem able to tolerate that – maybe it's tougher when I can't stand that one part from the beginning.

Revenge ABC, Wednesdays at 10:00
A Gifted Man CBS, Fridays at 8:00

Returning Shows

The addition of Ted Danson to CSI is magical. I don't feel like the show had slumped these past couple of seasons – I think the Laurence Fishburne arc was interesting and well-executed – but Danson is fantastic. Check him out. How I Met Your Mother infuriates me so much I don't even want to think about it – I just fantasize about tortuous deaths for Robin Scherbatsky for the entire half hour – but they've brought back Ashley Williams, so now I have to see it through. Harry's Law was never a great show, but Kathy Bates is fun to watch and it was the first David Kelley show that didn't immediately mimic Ally McBeal. This season, it's completely retooled into an Ally McBeal clone, so that's off the list. Body of Proof, too, had very little to offer – but the threshold is a lot lower for mid-season shows. I'm sorry I ever mentioned it.

The Good Wife is really shaping up to be quite a show. Who knew you could have a fairly straightforward adult drama without dressing it up, and audiences would flock to it? Obviously it is technically a lawyer show, but one way or another they have found a way to make that feel like more of a backdrop, even though each episode necessarily hinges on a court case. It's not structured as a "character show" but it feels much more like one than some of the shows that bill themselves that way.

How I Met Your Mother
Castle
Raising Hope
Body of Proof
Modern Family
Harry's Law
CSI
Community
Parks and Recreation
The Office
The Mentalist
The Amazing Race
Family Guy
The Good Wife

Premiering This Week

Terra Nova: Fox, Monday at 8:00
Hart of Dixie: CW, Monday at 9:00
Suburgatory: ABC, Wednesday at 8:30
How to Be a Gentleman: CBS, Thursday at 8:30
Homeland: Showtime, Sunday at 10:00

Returning This Week

Dexter: Showtime, Sunday at 9:00

Also New This Week

Gossip Girl: CW, Monday at 8:00
Mike & Molly: CBS, Monday at 9:30
Happy Endings: ABC, Wednesday at 9:30
The Real World: "M"TV, Wednesday at 10:00
Private Practice: ABC, Thursday at 10:00
America's Funniest Home Videos: ABC, Sunday at 7:00
Hung: HBO, Sunday at 10:00

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