My Weekend Fling: Monday Monday, Season 1

I'm going to have to rename my blog "What Andrea Watched When She Couldn't Sleep."

The combination of a nasty head cold and the emotional fall-out of some dear dear friends moving out of DC made sleep an impossibility the other night.  So good old Netflix rescued me with Monday Monday Season 1.

Okay, maybe rescued is too strong a word, because honestly, this show isn't fantastic.  It's not terrible, but I'm pretty sure if it were different circumstances I wouldn't have picked the ease of just clicking "next episode" until I finished and the sun came up.

Monday Monday is one of those workplace comedy/dramas and our main protagonist is the overworked and unappreciated Sally (Morven Christie), who just happens to be as romantically challenged as she is professionally stagnate.  In the employ of faltering supermarket chain Butterworths, Sally is the PA (personal assistant, I know that should go without saying, but it took me forever to figure it out, maybe the accents) to HR Manager Christine (Fay Ripley), a hardcore alcoholic.  The company is down on it's luck, with the recession and all, so the headquarters has just moved from London to Leeds, and despite the fact that her job is awful, Sally makes the move.  It might be that her fiancee has just called off their wedding.  To improve performance, the board has hired watchdog Aylson (Holly Aird), much to the chagrin of longtime head Roger (Peter Wight) and his faithful PA Jenny (Jenny Agutter).  Trying to give her new life a shot, Sally goes home with Steven (Tom Ellis), a nice fellow she meets in a bar, and as if throwing up in his shoes weren't humiliating enough, it turns out Steven is Alyson's PA, and secret boyfriend.

Things proceed pretty much as you'd expect: Alyson is so career driven she'll stop at nothing to cut the dead weight, but when her life circumstances change it might turn out that she has a heart after all; Christine abuses Sally relentlessly by forcing her to do all the work for the department while demanding constant reassurance of her worthiness before flitting in and out of rehab; Sally and Steven fall in love, but he just can't seem to get disentangled from that pesky affair with his boss.  There are a few surprises: Christine isn't keeping her job in the way that you'd expect; Roger has additional reasons for being suspicious of and resenting Alyson.  But by the end, mostly you just find out that these people are a lot less pleasant than the genial format and comfortable staging would like you to believe.

As a girl filled with shame and regret about the life choices that lead to her soul crushingly dead-end job and who hasn't even managed to bother to like a guy in the last 5 years, you would think I would really connect to a show like this, feel a deep empathy for Sally and her struggles.  And to an extent I did.  It is sad to see a basically decent person mired in mediocrity and humiliation.  I wanted better for Sally.  But then I just got mad about this stupid lie that TV is trying to tell women: just wait around at your crappy job because that really cute guy you happen to work with will eventually fall in love with you.  Uggg, enough.

So, aside from insomnia, is there any reason to watch Monday Monday?  The cast is pretty good.  They approach their characters (as limited or grating as those may be) in a straightforward and polished way: no one really changes all that much, but you easily believe that they are who they are.  And Tom Ellis really is quite handsome, so there's that in the plus column.  Miranda Hart (the amazing comedian who stars in the phenomenal show Miranda, (which also features Tom Ellis)) has a small part, playing the tall half of a PA team both named Karen.  Ms. Hart is an unending delight to watch; she is so distinct and remarkable, her humor both dry and slapstick, so even though she is a very minor character, she really brightens up the show.

Essentially, Monday Monday is a pass-the-time show.  Neither exceptional nor dreadful, it fills in the space that you aren't interested in filling with anything you care about.

The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling: Pretty Little Liars, Season 1

(I feel that I should preface what I'm about to say with: remember that I watched all 22 episodes of this show.)

I think my insomnia is starting to rot my brain, because Saturday night when I couldn't sleep I just kept watching episode after episode of Pretty Little Liars, and as the sun rose in the morning sky I realized that I didn't think the show had been utterly terrible.  How sad.

At a slumber party 15 year old Alison (Sasha Pieterse) goes missing, fracturing the bonds between longtime friends Spencer (Torian Bellisario), Hanna (Ashley Benson), Aria (Lucy Hale) and Emily (Shay Mitchell).  A year later, Alison's body is discovered, reuniting the girls, but the identity of her murderer is only one of the many secrets in Rosewood, PA. While Spencer tries to manage the expectations of her overly ambitious family, Aria tries to hid her sexual relationship with her English teacher from her parents that are splitting up because of her father's infidelity, Emily tries to come to terms with her sexual orientation, and Hanna tries to counterbalance her mother's indiscretions without sucuming to an eating disorder, all four girls are harassed by "A": a shadow deterimined to expose their flaws and wrongdoings at the same time as leading them to Alison's killer.

Honestly, for the most part PLL is over-the-top, verging on the completely ridiculous, but it's fairly enjoyable.  That is, if you can get over a few things.

First, there is the fact that, with notable exceptions, the vast majority of males in this fictional town are either dead-eyed sociopaths, dead-eyed sexual predators, or both.  (And the actors all seem to have trouble making facial expressions. It's very annoying for a while, then it just becomes funny.)  I'm not kidding, there is a serious problem with the men in this town understanding what is an acceptable age gap between partners, and since they are ALWAYS the older parties, that where I'm putting the emphasis: Ezra Fitz, a recent college graduate, pursues a relationship with Aria, his sixteen year old student; Spencer becomes the object of desire for her older sister Melissa's past/present/future boyfriends/fiancées; Alison was dating an older mystery guy; and Aria's father has had an affair with a woman at least 20 years his junior.  The actual teenage boys that are hanging around these girls aren't a great deal better: at worst leveraging either information for power (Noel) or useful skills for money (Caleb); at best greedily absorbing attention while repaying it with scorn (Sean).  There is the possibility that this show is a brilliant evisceration of female vulnerability, but...well maybe.  Probably not.

And the above is a huge part of the second serious detraction in PLL.  The giant gaping black hole of suck in this show is Aria and everything having to do with her: her icktastic boyfriend, her oblivious parents, her wardrobe.  Of the four girls, Aria is simply the least interesting.  Obviously intended to be the most "free-spirited" and "artistic" of the group, Aria doesn't seem to have any particular skills, talents, or activities.  It's offhandedly mentioned once that she reads books aside for the ones she's assigned and she's "really excited about fiction" but that's about it.  While Spencer, Hanna and Emily all participate in at least one sport or club activity (and are seen at some point or another doing homework), Aria pretty much goes to school for the sole purpose of flirting with her teacher, goes home to lecture her younger brother, and goes then goes to Ezra's apartment to cook.  From what what we see, she doesn't do, create, or think much of anything.  Her utter lack of personality, or basic connection to reality, is perfectly matched in her equally vacuous "boyfriend."  Mr. Fitz, who never seems to grade homework or need to make lesson plans despite being a first year teacher, is supposedly a talented writer but since we only hear snippets of what he's written we have to take that on the authority of Aria or her father (because they have such trustworthy judgement).  And that is the extent of his character: likes underage girls and writes.  I know I sound like I'm harping on the Aria/Ezra relationship, but it takes up a significant portion of every episode, so I am only bitching in proportion to how much they subjected me to it.  These two literally have the exact same conversation at least 22 times (once an episode) if not more. Here it is:

One: I hate that sneaking around is so difficult because you are the most amazing person I've ever met.
The Other: I agree.  But this is very difficult.
One: I don't want to give up on us.
The Other: Me either, but what about the necessity of having coffee in public with your significant other?
One: I don't need coffee in public, as long as I have dinner in secret with you.
The Other: You're the best.

If it weren't bad enough to watch two boring people, having to listen to them say the same thing over and over and over again is like Chinese water torture.  If you are going to assert the normalcy of a legally and ethically inappropriate relationship, it helps if the viewer  doesn't want to slip into a coma every time either character is on screen.  (PLL show runners, please see Chris and Angie from Skins UK Series 1 for a student/teacher relationship that was equally as inappropriate but was dramatically and emotionally engrossing TV.)

How lame Aria is stands out because the other girls are appealing and entertaining characters.

Star scholar and well-rounded college applicant Spencer is ambitious, competitive, suspicious, prickly, and combative.  But she is also funny, loyal, and she is the driving force behind trying to discover Alison's killer.  She's unofficially the leader, but she doesn't manipulate the other girls, as numerous flashbacks clearly demonstrate that Alison did when she was queen.  She doesn't want to live resentfully in the shadow of her older sister's achievements, and she does the best she can in the face of Melissa's staggering megalomania.  Spencer's eventual relationship with stoic neighbor, and initial suspect in Alison's murder, Toby has a faint similarity to the greatness that was Veronica Mars and Logan Echolls, at least in part because their first kiss is also in a motel parking lot.  (Although, in comparison, Toby's familial circumstances makes the Echolls family look well-adjusted and functional.)

Swimming phenomenon Emily struggles to be honest with herself and eventually everyone else about being gay without a great deal of angst or self-loathing.  She is fearful of the changes her honesty could mean for her life, but when the time comes to tell her father she does so in a brave and straightforward manner.  Emily is unfailingly forgiving, determined to give everyone a second chance.  Emily is shy, and therefore not often the instigator of events and sometimes needs a nudge to move out of her comfort zone, but she isn't a doormat either.  She stands up for herself and her opinions patiently and respectfully.  Emily is a great example of treat-people-how-you-want-to-be-treated.

Recently minted It-Girl Hanna is the opposite of your typical bitchy popular girl.  Hanna fluctuates between rebellious outburst, like high-end shoplifting, and having to provide stability and support to her mother, who makes really really poor life choices.  Hanna was previously the chubby girl of the group and often on the receiving end of Alison's venom, but instead of becoming the likeness of her antagonizer, Hanna is kind and generous to a fault: she befriends outcasts, attends abstinence-group meetings with her boyfriend to understand his viewpoint even though she wants to have sex, and lends a  couch to the teen homeless.  Granted, these things usually don't work out in her favor, but when Hanna finally looses her cool with people abusing her amity it is one of the best moments all season.

The real strength of this show is the pacing.  Much like The Vampire Diaries, they pack a lot into each hour of  PLL.  A doesn't really take a day off, relentlessly airing secrets, divulging tidbits of evidence and setting traps for the girls.  We move along for shocking-reveal to unforeseen-plot-development at a fairly brisk pace, thereby minimizing emoting time and avoiding beating every storyline (completely) to death.  The viewer is encouraged in watching the next episode, because we know that something will happen even if it won't necessarily be the answer to our questions.  Now, the season finale revealed Alison's murderer, but the case is far from closed, we still don't know who A is, and they have opened the door for the whole situation being much bigger than we thought, so you could say that we ended up with more questions than answers, but if next season continues in the same vein, we should know something more pretty quickly.

Wait, did I just admit that I intend to watch the next season?

Well, I do kind of want to know what Jenna, the blind girl with an ax to grind, is up to.

The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling: Justified, Season 1

F/X Network, you hurt so good.

Justified is the answer to a question no one before thought to ask: what do you get when you mix the Bible with meth?

Set in Lexington Kentucky and the surrounding rural area, Justified follows the idiosyncratic Deputy US Marshall Raylan Givens (Timothy Olyphant), transfered back to his home state after he shoots a drug cartel's hit-man in a restaurant.  Home is a complicated place, both personally and professionally, for our protagonist: what with his hard-drinking, baseball bat wielding, petty criminal father Arlo (Raymond J. Barry); his ex-wife Winona (Natalie Zea) who is still obviously in love with him despite being married to seemingly nice-guy Gary (William Ragsdale); the local girl who could-have-been-if-he'd-stayed-in-town Eva Crowder (Joelle Carter) who has just shot her abusive husband and is now in the shit with his unsavory (in the hillbilly-mafia type way) family; one member of which is Boyd Crowder (Walton Goggins), an old friend/nemesis with a taste for robbing banks, ideological tenacity, explosions, and sister-in-law Eva.  Raylan's history with the residents, in addition to his tendency to shoot people, makes for an eternal headache for his boss Art Mullen (Nick Searcy) and co-workers Rachel Brooks (Erica Tazel) and Tim Gutterson (Jacob Pitts), but considering all the drug manufacturers, tax evaders and bail jumpers in the area, their job kinda sucked anyway, though they all seem fulfilled by it.

The more that I've talked to people about this show, the more I've realized just how hooked on it I am.  This is the first show in quite a while that I want to own so that I can loan it to friends and make them watch too.

The basis for Justified is an Elmore Leonard short story titles "Fire in the Hole" (which is also the title of the pilot, and what Boyd yells right before he blows something up), and tonally the show remains consistent with Leonard.  This is the kind of show that F/X really excels at (and that  I enjoy a great deal): a show that is dark and serious, while at the same time amiable and funny.

There is nothing lighthearted about the subject matter here.  In the context of slightly-less-than-abject poverty, minimal education, long memories and a feudal clan system, plots probing loyalty, moral responsibility, and family descend upon the viewer like pebbles into an avalanche; from seemingly isolated bad choices (on the part of people who arguably may not know any better) the inevitable, but unconsidered, consequences relentlessly unfold, though the conclusion is not forgone.  There is equal opportunity to choose the right thing as there is freedom to choose the wrong, but no one is exempt from the fall-out.  Eva might not be prosecuted for murdering her husband, but she is more than punished; Art wants a dedicated and competent Marshall in his field office, so he accepts the paperwork and ulcer that accompany having a peculiar employee; Raylan abhors his father's choices, yet isn't confused or offended by the hostility he receives for this attitude.

But as grim as I've made this sound, I promise, it isn't.  What makes the viewer able to genuinely enjoy Justified (instead of just endure along) is a wry and self-aware humor, both on the part of the characters and the general perspective of the show.  All of the principle characters are compelling and (to varying degrees) charming, able to objectively comment on their own and others' failings and ironic circumstances, and for those characters incapable of such understanding, events will demonstrate their absurdity, and sometimes they get the joke.

One of this show's great strengths is the actors' performances.  In one aspect or another each of the characters has an extremity within his/her personality, and it would be all too easy to portray these extremes extravagantly, thereby rendering stereotypes (the religious fanatic, the stoic, the abused woman) instead of people.  But the cast is appropriately restrained and artful.

My one major complaint about this show is so minor that it seems petty to even mention it, but what the hell, here it is: the opening credits.  I should be a better person than to complain about 30 seconds of a lame song in the midst of 42 minutes of wonderful show, but I'm not.  Oh well, nothing my complaints will do about it, just be prepared.

Since this network has a tendency to capture my heart and then stomp all over it, I'm terrified of writing this post, convinced that saying anything will break the spell and the executive powers who seem determined to make me upset will send out a c-word missive.  But since S2 has already started, I'm going to risk it.

The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling (Part 1): Sherlock

Dear Emily,

Thank you so much for your television suggestion.  I am very sorry that I eyed you quizzically when you first told me that this mini-series was good; your taste is excellent and I shouldn't be so judge-y judge-y.  I am very sorry that I was always busy/tired whenever I had the chance to watch this with you and Jennie.  I am very sorry that I joined in with making Benedict Cumberbatch's name into a litany of dirty phrases.  I am very sorry that despite my enjoyment of this series I will continue to make fun of Mr. Cumberbatch's name.

Love always,
Andrea / The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling: Parks and Recreation, Seasons 1 and 2

I watched the pilot of Parks and Recreation when it aired; I wasn't impressed.  Jennie advised me to give it another shot, and reviews I read said it had improved immensely, so I gathered up all my love for Amy Poehler and Rashida Jones (I still maintain that Karen was awesome!) and queued up my Watch Instantly.

So glad I did, because this shite is funny.  The racist Town Hall murals sight gags are completely worth watching the show for.

Those, and the rest of the writing.  Like when Leslie marries the two male penguins.  Or when the whole office goes on a hunting trip.  Or Jerry's mugging.  Or my personal favorite Duke Silver.  I could go on.

From what I can tell, the conceit of this show is "the road to hell is paved with good intentions," because no one's intentions are as good as Leslie Knope's and no one ends up in as many hell-ish situations.  I mean come on, the premise of the show is turning an actual pit into a park, Dante would be all over this.  Or maybe he wouldn't be interested in the bumblings of a small-town's bureaucracy ridden government through the perspective of their Park's Department.  Leslie is unfailingly optimistic in the face of tax-payer antagonism, co-worker apathy, and continual personal embarrassment, but her determination, hard-work, and occasional bouts of drunken-ness prevent her from coming across as either cloying or sanctimonious.

The gem of Parks and Recreation is Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman).  Ron is the head of the P&R department, a breakfast-obsessed loud and proud Libertarian who wants nothing more than to do as little as possible.  He's not just lazy, he is lazy out of principle.  And that is the element that separates Parks and Recreation from The Office: self-awareness.  The characters have their flaws, they make mistakes, and often end up with a mess on their hands, but for the most part, they know their flaws are flaws, that their mistakes are their responsibility, and that they have to clean up their messes.  At this point, particular personality aspects have not devolved into caricature; for example, Tom Haverford's (Aziz Ansari) attempts to pick up women are still viewed and commented upon as creepy and desperate, not jovially dismissed as a fixed and worn affectation.

The only character who is really clueless is Andy Dwyer (Chris Pratt, in yet another wonderful dumb-but-lovable-guy role that he does so very very well).  Andy is essentially a kind person, just a little dim. The slow evolution of his relationship with surly and disconnected April (Aubrey Plaza) demonstrates a possibility for development, giving me hope that Andy won't degenerate into a one tick pony whose buffoonish behavior pushes the line of cruelty.

The weak link in this show is Mark Brandnawitz (Paul Schneider), but since he won't be a regular in S3, I don't really feel a great need to spend much time here talking about how Mark was boring.  Boring, boring, boring. Okay, I'm done.

But can I get an amen for Adam Scott's recurring role as Ben Wyatt?  I am in love with this guy, am terribly disappointed that Party Down got cancel, and his character is perfect for Leslie!

So really, is it January yet?

The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling: Caprica, Season 1.0

I admit it; I’m a total slacker.

Why do you think underachievers and misfits appeal to me so much?

But even when I’m slacking I’m still watching something.

Let me say this right off the bat: Caprica is not Battlestar Galactica.  For those of you, like me, who still feel the void of BSG these years later; don’t look to this show as a quick and easy replacement.  Honestly, that’s why I didn’t watch it at first; I didn’t want to be overly disappointed in this show by comparing it to another show so loved.  Since Caprica is a prequel to BSG, with a common character, there is no way to divorce the two shows, and one shouldn’t.  Luckily for the audience (that luck based on hard work by those who make this show) Caprica can hold its own.

I would say that the number one reason Caprica stands on it’s own two feet is the eclectic but amazing cast.  Can someone explain to me why Polly Walker (Rome, State of Play) and Paula Malcomson (Deadwood, Sons of Anarchy) haven’t been together on a show before?  I ask because once you see it, it is the most logical thing in the world.  Two of the most engaging, thoughtful and precise actresses on TV, in one place, now that is a bargain people!  (If Polly Walker were to be on SoA I would probably have a heart attack of joy.)  In other hands, these roles could devolve into shrill caricature, but the textured and interesting characters that we are meant to have are presented to us naturally and fully-formed, even if we are just getting to know them.  Polly Walker’s Sister Clarice Willow, the schoolteacher with a subversive agenda, is dark and ruthless but not a hollow menace.  Paula Malcomson’s Dr. Amanda Greystone may be spiraling into insanity because of her grief for her dead daughter Zoe and our feeling of that insanity is so real because it is the quiet erosion of a soul, not hysterical gestures from a Dr. Seuss book.  Then there’s Zoe Greystone, played by Alessandra Torresani, who was Anne Veal for one episode of Arrested Development before the character was recast.  The Zoe we see is actually a digital Zoe, a copy of that the real Zoe made of herself for some sort of religious purpose before being blown up by her boyfriend on a commuter train in the pilot episode, and digital Zoe is put in the body of the first Cylon, that her father Daniel is developing for the military.  You with me?  Zoe, as we know her, is a total brat, but not because she is portrayed in a bratty or whiny way.  She is the bratty of an arrogant self-righteous 15-year-old, therefore a fairly typical teenager, but now that she is stuck in a killing suit, we follow the metaphor of growing up and accepting our responsibility in the world without the typical show’s belabored melodrama.

The male side of the cast isn’t half bad either.  Eric Stoltz as Daniel Greystone, the determined genius industrialist, and Esai Morales as Joseph Adama, the mob lawyer slipping into addiction and despair, are both simultaneously understated and raging; neither yell frequently but both radiated repressed fury and thwarted expectation.  For me, the standout is Sasha Roiz as Joseph’s brother Sam.  Sam Adama is so riddled with contradictions that the character shouldn’t ring true, but somehow, and I think it’s because of Roiz, he does.  Sam is a mob enforcer but his perfect honest with his partner Larry about what he does removes much of the sleaziness one normal associates with such a profession; as a surrogate father to his nephew Willie (That’s right, before Admiral Bill Adama protected the human race, he was called Willie.  Frakking awesome.) his approach of ethics-based circumvention of the law is fairly admirable; and his participation in his Tauron culture and religious tradition does not strike the viewer as cheep or false in anyway.  Sam is interesting, and I like interesting.

The large thematic concerns of the show are still developing.  While the overarching questions are present (what is reality? how is one to have faith in the face of competing religious claims?  if family is our primary love do the living or the dead demand more of us?  what is our ethical responsibility to society?), they and all others are in a gestational stage, but so far Caprica has established rich ground for these discussions to unfold.  The march towards the Cylon War promises to be a thought-provoking one.

Oh, and James Marsters is terrorist, so if that isn’t enough to get you to watch, you might be a lost cause.

The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling: Doctor Who, Season 5

Early last week I tweeted:

In 48 hours I have seen two representations of memory and reality.  One was awesome, the other was Inception.

Now, I have no desire to get into my opinions on Inception (cinematography=amazing, story=lame) but the AWESOME was the day-long Doctor Who Season 5 marathon on BBC America two saturdays ago.  The network showed the entire season before premiering the season finale, and yes, I spent all day in my room watching glorious hour after glorious hour.

There could have been some awkwardness in the transition from David Tennant to Matt Smith as the Doctor, but I think that Matt Smith jumped in with enthusiasm, charm and determination.  More open than Christopher Eccleston, more reserved than David Tennant, Matt Smith portrayed his Doctor with sadness, but without self-indulgence (thank you very much post-season 4 “specials”) and with necessary severity, but without harshness.  Lucky for Matt Smith he has some good material.  More than the performance, I really like Doctor Eleven.  He is appropriately reticent with River Song (Alex Kingston) because he knows how she will die and isn’t comfortable at all with her familiarity, which I think was a wonderful avenue on which to take things; at the end of “Amy’s Choice” he tells Amy (Karen Gillan) and Rory (Arthur Darvill) that he is “The Dream Lord” but he doesn’t wait around for their sympathetic looks and reassuring pats on the back; and his gentle comfort of Amy at the end of “Vincent and The Doctor” is a wonderfully sweet close to an episode that in and of itself is an amazing response to the gross negligence that was “The Waters of Mars.”

But what is a Doctor without his companion?  I am beyond in love with Amy Pond.  Amy is brave, funny, forthright, loving, and refreshingly un-needy.  She wants to travel with the Doctor because, well, that is what she wants to do, not because she blindly follows men about (Rose), she is being bombarded by responsibilities that are not her own (Martha) or that she hadn’t yet learned to embrace her own life (Donna).  Amy loves her fiancé Rory, isn’t ashamed that she makes money as a kiss-o-gram girl, is beyond not-insecure about River and the fact that she herself will be replaced, and she genuinely just wants to see what is out there.  I think all of the companions have fantastic qualities, but Amy has an infectious confidence that I have thoroughly enjoyed.

In contrast to previous season’s fixation on prophecy, inevitability and destruction, this season explored memory, choice and fortitude.  Not every episode was a winner: I wasn’t terribly impressed by “They Hungry Earth” or “The Cold Below” and because “Blink” is one of my favorite episodes (S3, you are so beautiful) and therefore I think the Weeping Angels should have been left to all their single episode magnificence, but overall the stories were campy, compelling, and hopeful.  “The Beast Below” was an absurd plot, but was an interesting statement about physicality and nationhood, Robot-Rory protecting the Pandorica for two thousand years (without going insane like The Doctor said he would) was a not terribly subtle but very show-appropriate way to drive home the point that our devotion to what we believe is what makes us human and what will determine our reward in the next life (and make no mistake about it, Rory being willed into re-existence in “The Big Bang” is a second life), and the whole amazing speech about how our greatest trials are our greatest achievement in “Vincent and The Doctor” brings tears to my eyes when I think about it. 

A lighter touch, a bit of genuine joy, and a bowtie: what a season.

The TV Girl

P.S. How can you not be obsessed with this girl?

My Weekend Fling: Damages, Season 1

Some shows stay with you for years after you first see them, becoming a part of who you are, and informing the way you watch all subsequent TV, but some shows slip past you, making no impact on your memory and by the time the season is over you wonder if you actually watched the beginning.

Damages S1 is the second type of show. For 13 episodes Ellen Parsons (Rose Byrne) whined, Patty Hewes (Glenn Close) schemed, Arthur Frobisher (Ted Danson) grandstanded, and I tried to stay awake. In all honesty, at points I didn’t stay awake.

Patty Hewes is the sharpest, most-manipulating, hardest-ball playing, one-way train to crazy-town of a lawyer. She is hell-bent on destroying Frobisher, a billionaire who defrauded his employees by convincing them to reinvest their pensions right before he dumped his stock when he got a tip-off from an SEC inside man that his company would be charged with fraudulent accounting. Combating Patty is Frobisher’s lawyer, Ray Fiske, whose mild manner and Southern drawl intensifies his ruthless professional capabilities. Patty hires Ellen, not because she is a recent law graduate at the top of her class, but because her boyfriend David’s sister knows something (without knowing it) about the case. In the pilot, it is revealed that David has been/will be murdered, setting up the show’s structure of alternating the plot between present and past time, therefore attempting to convince us, the audience, that we think we know where the show is headed, in order to make the “shocking twists and turns” that much more so.

The problem is that even in an entirely straightforward linear narrative, we would always know exactly where this show is going. Well-worn elements plod along easily recognizable narrative tracks, neither asking the audience to give anything, nor offering anything in return. The conclusion of the “who killed David?” plotline is so obvious, and so clichéd, that I was almost embarrassed for whomever wrote it. In fairness, there is one genuine surprise, and two semi-surprises, over the course of the season, and I won’t spoil them, but I won’t pretend that they are good enough to make the show worth watching.

Essentially, Damages S1 is an exercise in hypocrisy: the morally outraged crusader-for-the-little-guy is a devious, deranged, puppy-killer; the devout Baptist is a deeply closeted homosexual; the family man is an aficionado of coke and hookers; the ingénue is a stone-cold bitch. But, again, the “true” personalities underneath the public façades are so predictable that they read like just another façade. There is a dead core to this show; there is nothing vital and real for the audience to invest in, or even be intrigued by. Even the opening credits seem designed to repel the audience, like Tephlon. Gray pictures of stone buildings flashing quickly by, accompanied by muted, unidentifiable music, presenting a false door without any enticement to walk through.

I will give this endorsement. For those of you out there who value performance and acting craft above other mimetic components, the cast of Damages is exemplary. From the strongest to the weakest (you know who you are) each and every actor brings their personal best to the role they inhabit. Given that, it really is a shame that the show is so cold and boring.

The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling: Leverage, Season One

Kay Pea asked me to watch this show, and since she has awesome taste, I acquiesced.

I will be upfront. I cannot whole-heartedly endorse this show for a really ridiculously personal reason that does not apply to anyone but me. I cannot get over Christian Kane’s hair. Not only is it creepy on its own, it makes him look frighteningly like a guy I know (whose wife is probably reading this, hi Calah!). I fully subscribe to the philosophy that art is an imitation of reality, I just get kind of distracted when it is happens to be a duplication of parts of my reality. It makes it impossible for me to really suspend my disbelief and enjoy the show.

And there are things to enjoy about this show. It seems to me that this show is marketed improperly, because it is much more funny and much less drama-y than I expected it to be from the commercials that I have seen. Not that there are not drama-y elements. Timothy Hutton stars as Nathan Ford, as former insurance claims investigator who manages a group of thieves, whom he previously pursued, and they steal from the corrupt on behalf of the needy and oppressed, while he trys to manage his drinking problem. He has turned his back on law and order because his company refused to pay for treatment that would have prevented his young son from dying. (So see, sad drama-y stuff.) Tech specialist Hardison (Aldis Hodge) is really hysterical and kind of reminds me of Mos Def in The Italian Job. I was pleasantly surprised by how funny this character is, and how funny Hodge’s performance is, since on the two other shows I have seen him on (Supernatural and Friday Night Lights) his characters were surly or stoic, therefore he hadn’t had a chance to display his talent for comic delivery. Ninja-esque Parker (Beth Riesgraf) is sad and damaged, but it makes her socially incompetent and blunt to the point of rude, but not at all whiney or self-pitying. Also pleasantly surprising is Gina Bellman as Sophie Devereaux, the grifter extraordinaire. Anyone who has seen Coupling (which EVERYONE should have seen by now) knows that Ms Bellman can play absurdly-crazy-but-sane like nobody’s business, but here she is lovely as the diabolically-minded but kind-hearted voice of reason and grounding force for Nathan. Sophie’s attempts at a legitimate acting career give a wonderful showcase for Ms Bellman’s capacity for over-the-top antics. (In one episode Sophie plays a nun in a fake movie and I laughed so hard there were actually tears in my eyes.) Not to mention that an occasional guest star is Mark Sheppard, who plays Nathan’s insurance-man-nemesis Jim Sterling, just happens to be a favorite “that-guy” of mine. (You should know him from roles on Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, and Dollhouse.) The cast is a strong element of the show.

The particular episodes, the various heists, are for the most part entertaining and relatively clever. On occasion the conclusion is a bit too convoluted to fully follow (specifically the episode with the race-horses, I totally didn’t get it), but the viewer doesn’t necessarily fell like the writers have cheated and tried to pass off totally illogical plots with quick cuts, which is a feeling one can experience with the poorer quality of these types of stories. Interestingly, this show displays a respect for somewhat traditional values. One episode centers on a wounded soldier, another on a Catholic priest, and in both the subjects are treated with deference and appreciation for their contributions to society. Where one might expect to find snark and loaded social commentary one finds an instance where people who inhabit roles others may not agree with are considered worthy of the same justice to which everyone is entitled.

Leverage is really good summer TV: well crafted and fun without being either shallow or self-important. Now if the evil-hair-of-evilness would just be cut I would be a much happier camper.

The TV Girl

My Week-Long Fling: Doctor Who Seasons 1-3

It really only took me seven days to watch 3 seasons of this show. Isn’t funemployment grand?

My sister rented Season 1 of Torchwood and I watched it with her, and found myself intrigued enough not only to watch Season 2 with her, but also to watch all of the new Doctor Who available on Netflix Watch Instantly. (I am waiting for Season 4 in the mail.) More than anything, I avoided this particular franchise of geek-dom because the fans frighten me. They seem to be particularly, um, intense. (That really isn’t a very nice thing to say, but have you read some of those fan-sites? And in all fairness, I am nervous about most of the fans of shows I love. Those Supernatural people are terrifying.)

But I don’t watch that much of anything that doesn’t hold my attention in some way. (Don’t be fooled, I give up on shows that bore me.) I have been immensely entertained this last week. Honestly, I want to be a writer for this show, just so that I would get to write some really ridiculous stuff and make other people say it. It looks like fun. I think I would have the Doctor go meet Michaelangelo.

For those of you who have no idea what this show is about here is my simple summary. Don’t laugh, because before I actually watched, people would try to explain it to me, and I wouldn’t have any idea what they were taking about. The Doctor is the last of the Time Lords, an alien race with two hearts that live exceptionally long lives and can travel in both time and space using biological machines called TARDISes. When mortally injured, instead of dying, the Doctor regenerates into a new physiognomy, but is still the same person (pretty much), hence the seven actors who played the character in the original run of the series, and the two actors (so far) in the current series. He is the last because his race was destroyed in order to end the Time War with the Daleks, who were also entirely destroyed, except that a few survived and show up every so often. Therefore, lonely and just a bit guilty, the Doctor travels around time and space with a human female companion, meeting famous figures of human history and foiling the evil plots of destruction-bent alien races. Okay, that is the best I can do explaining the premise.

In Season One Christopher Eccleston plays the Doctor with a great deal of charm and gusto. The Doctor is regenerated into David Tennant at the very end of Season One, and he plays it just the slightest bit darker; still bright and appealing, but with a more dangerous edge. Billie Piper plays his companion Rose Tyler for Seasons One and Two, before she is trapped on an alternate Earth because a doorway between the parallel realties must be closed. Even though Rose is more sweet and loyal than particularly interesting, Rose’s “death” is actually quite sad, and made me cry. I much prefer Freema Agyeman’s medical student Martha Jones, the companion of Season 3. Rose was just a bit too lost for me. She lacked her own purpose, making her a somewhat flat character. Martha, on the other hand, was more fully developed as a person, more well rounded as a character. I wanted the Doctor to love Martha Jones. Maybe it was just that Rose seemed so much to belong to/with the Christopher Eccleston Doctor and less so the David Tennant Doctor, or maybe that Martha was funny and smart and loved him so much that it felt wrong for her to get hurt. It was so sad in “Human Nature” and “The Family of Blood” that while human he fell in love with someone else and Martha had to accept it.

I wonder how I will feel about Donna Noble (Catherine Tate) as the companion in Season 4?

The ultimately redeeming factor of this show is that everyone seems to know just how hokey it is. It doesn’t feel like anyone is trying to pass this show off as deep, tragic, or relevant. The writers and actors seem to so enthusiastically embrace a spirit of light-hearted fun that the show is silly and engaging, rather than self-important or abrasive.

For me, one of the really fun things about this show is that it is kind of parade of “I’ve seen that person before.” In the sense of adjusting to David Tennant, that was kind of difficult for me. (It took a few episodes for me to stop holding my breath for him to be evil.) But otherwise the rotating door of guest stars is great: Simon Pegg and Jessica Hynes both appear in very a-typical roles, Ian Holm and John Simm (from the BBC mini-series State of Play, which is much much much better than the American movie) are both fantastic as stages of the Master, Zoë Wanamaker is delightfully devious as Cassandra, and even though the Doctor looses faith in her, I would vote for Penelope Wilton’s Harriet Jones. Almost every episode had someone I recognized, turning the viewing experience into a little bit of a game, without being all ostentatious about it (30 Rock I am talking about you). This show does make me wonder just how many British people are named Jones…

I will say that I am super annoyed that Jack is (or at least maybe is) the Face of Boe. That head is gigantic, how is Jack supposed to turn into that? For some reason, I find this little, possible, detail rather irksome.

If you are looking for some enjoyable science fiction that does not leave you with that horrible damn-the-universe-is-super-depressing feeling, this is your stuff. Want to ponder the mystery of human nature, then watch Battlestar Galactica.

The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling: True Blood, Season One (4)

I’m sorry, no pun intended, but this show sucks!

There is always the possibility that I am just not cut out for HBO shows. I am going to give it a shot with The Wire at some point, but despite all my efforts I either hate shows on this network, or I get too exhausted to make it through more than one season.

So that is my preemptive apology to all of you out there who are obsessed with this show. I am not among your ranks.

The guiding metaphor, that it is wrong to hate what is different from yourself, is depicted with the subtly of a bull in a china shop due to the unending parade of stereotypes and clichés: religious people are ignorant and murder-happy; economically hard-pressed people are alcoholics and devoid of basic reasoning skills; politicians are hypocritical and corrupt; slutty boys really do have hearts of gold, not just STDs; the nice guy is inevitably the serial killer. I am not interested in debating the accuracy of Hollywood’s perception of small town Southerners, I am simply vocalizing my boredom with the utter unoriginality and condescending attitude both of and towards the majority of the characters and plotlines on this show.

Anna Paquin deserves her Golden Globe; she did an amazing job of portraying possibly the dumbest girl on television. Say what you want about Bella Swan, at least she has the excuse of being a teenager. Sookie (which I assume would be pronounced Sue-Key by anyone with an even remotely plausible accent) is supposed to be open-minded and non-judgmental, due to her special gift of being able to hear other people’s thoughts, therefore accepting of newly “outed” vampires, and so she is super excited when Bill, whose thoughts she cannot hear, walks into the bar she works in. As a voice of reason or a moral center, Sookie is ridiculous; she has no regard for either her own or her loved ones safety, she equates similar situations of social isolation as an equality of inherent personal goodness, she despises the opinion of others, as well as taking advantage of her friends and family yet acting out childishly when harm comes to them. One example of her utter bratty disposition is the scene where her boss (and friend and hopeful but unsuccessful suitor) Sam explains to her that he is a shape-shifter, able to turn into animals at will. This supposedly compassionate and enlightened girl storms off in a self-righteous huff because Sam didn’t tell her his secret the first second they met and her inability to control her own reactions to hearing other’s thoughts when in public apparently makes Sam’s self-control a lie he uses to fool the community. Why Sam actually desires the affection of this woman is kind of baffling.

The central relationship is supposed to be Sookie and Bill, but it is kind of absurd. She saves Bill’s life from some trailer trash trying to drain him in order to sell his blood (did you hear that vampire blood is the newest designer drug?), and when said entrepreneurs beat Sookie to holy hell, Bill has her drink from him in order to save her life. True love, isn’t grand? Now, I will grant that mutual life saving seems like it would generate a fairly strong bond between two people, which could be used as a foundation for a relationship, but between Sookie and Bill, nothing is built and yet is asserted to exist. They never really seem to find out anything about each other, with the exception of Bill’s presentation of his history to the town and her revelation of childhood sexual abuse (I left that off the cliché list). They (sort of) speak as if they have a deep and meaningful relationship, but I couldn’t actually figure out what reality that would be true in. It doesn’t help that the actors have very little chemistry; their interaction is stilted and almost insincere. The moment I gave up on the possibility that their relationship would be something other than completely funny is when a graphic sex scene between the two actually serves no purpose other than as a how-to guide of developing a UTI.

But not to be totally negative, there are some enjoyable moments with the more minor characters. While Tara is slightly shrill and repetitive, her loyalty to Sookie is genuine and provides a realistic element. Sam is a relatively descent person, trying to do the right thing, but his complicated personal feelings allows for a more rounded character, not just a gullible white-knight. Lafayette is a brilliantly balanced combination of self-assured individualism and possibly menacing selfishness. But all the possibility these characters have is drowned in the debilitating boredom of Sookie’s idiotic non-existential non-crisis and Jason’s sexual exploits. (He is her brother, and the town man-whore, but I do not have the will to spend any more than this amount of energy discussing him. Waste of space.)

Oh, and the sound effect used for the descending vampire fangs is hilarious.

The TV Girl

My Weekend Fling: Hex, Season 1 (2)

In the perfect storm of my life falling apart and my sucker-hood for the fantasy/sci-fi genera, I watched THE WORST SHOW EVER! No joke, terrible.

Hex is supposedly about Cassie, a student at a private boarding school, who is a descendent of a woman who through voodoo gave bodily form to the fallen angel Azezeal. Apparently, his body is wearing out (or something) so he needs to sacrifice Cassie’s best friend Thelma, because her love for Cassie will make the sacrifice pure. Thelma returns as a ghost who can touch everything but people, and is visible to Cassie and the demons. Okay, then Cassie becomes possessed by having sex with the guy she is into (who Azezeal has possessed in a very Wrath of Kahn way) and then she does it with his demon-ness, but then she claims that she is actually in love with Azezeal. Oh yeah, and then she gets pregnant, which she tries to abort, but the doctor is convinced by the baby-daddy to save the magically super-growing baby (hi 4th book of Twilight, how ya doing?). Ella, an immortal witch/demon hunter, shows up to kill the baby, but accidentally kills Cassie. Thelma sticks around to help Ella find the baby, but Azezeal and his demon buddy drive Ella crazy with memories of her torture and trial for witchcraft hundreds of years before.

I am not making this up. I am sad for the person who did.

First of all, those who are inclined to say that British TV is always superior to American are forever proven wrong by the existence of this show. There are many many British shows that are fantastic, but this isn’t one of them.

Second of all, is Azezeal the only name aside from Lucifer that anyone knows for one of the fallen angels? This dude is freaking everywhere; in a comic my friend Emily told me about, in Supernatural (we found out in S3 that that is the name of the “Yellow Eyed Demon” who made Sam all bad-blooded), and now he is here. He is one tramp-tastic demon. At least on SPN his main goal wasn’t to get laid.

Thirdly, and less nit-picky ranting, these were some of the most wooden and unrealistic characters I have ever seen. At no point when all of these creepy and ridiculous things are happening does anyone say anything remotely natural in reaction. No tears, no concern, no even “this is kind of strange.” Everyone just kind of goes along, talking to ghosts, doing demons, having nightmares. Plus, these characters were not just fake and slim they were boring. There was nothing interesting about them. I think the show creators where trying to go for a moody/brooding vibe, but they failed. I can accept preposterous storylines, even enjoy them very much, as long the characters are layered and organic. Again, massive fail.

Fourth, the pacing and tone were all over the map. In each episode huge “mysteries” were revealed, but nothing ever seemed to happen. So much time was wasted on mist filled shots of the school and the grounds, but there seemed to be no time to actually explain what was happening. Teen dating angst were somehow equivalent to world-ending offspring. You had no idea what you were going to get one scene to another.

Just terrible. Not the campy kind of fun terrible, just the time wasting kind.

I will say one good thing for this show. The theme/opening credit song was “#1 Crush” by Garbage, which I adore. It was such a moment of hope when the first episode started, but it turned out to be the only redeeming moment of each episode.

AVOID THIS SHOW AT ALL COSTS.

The TV Girl