Pabulum

The Moment of Truth

There are more than a few problems with this show. It's too slow. As a game show, it's unique in that it's not a test of anything at all, worthwhile or not; it's pure voyeurism and schadenfreude.  (I don't buy the argument that it's testing the willingness to be truthful; this is mere Russian roulette with electrodes.) They need another button. They have the button for the family members to veto a question, but they need a button for the contestant to press when he opts out, rather than an anti-climactic, "I wanna go home." Mark Walberg is the most personality-less television personality since Mr. Rogers, and at least Mr. Rogers meant to be that way.

These are all problems, but they're not the biggest problem. The biggest problem, and the aspect of the show I continually find the most interesting, is that the format of the show compels the audience to applaud all sorts of repugnant things. Mark will ask, "Have you ever stolen money from work and let someone else take the blame?" And when the contestant swallows his pride and discretion and every other instinct he's worked so hard to develop his entire life and says he has in order to get one step closer to earning a few bucks, the audience responds with applause that, if you didn't already know, makes quite clear that yes, a person can be mealy-mouthed with their hands. They have to applaud because everything said on the set of a game show gets applause, and I guess they're encouraged to applaud the contestant's coming clean, and I'm sure there's a sign telling them to applaud, but at root, they're applauding theft. And then, after the computerized voice drags out the confirmation twice as long as any reasonable person should think is necessary, they applaud again. This time ostensibly because the contestant has won more money, but once again without any enthusiasm, because really, who wants to applaud a confirmed thief?

Like I said, there are lots of problems with this show. But this one actually makes it kind of interesting to watch. I picture a contestant on this show in a few years' time answering a question. "Have you ever applauded an act you found morally reprehensible?"

"EZIATW? What's that?"

"It stands for Elizabeth Ziff Is A Terrible Writer."

The L Word has always been camp. Let's get that straight right from the beginning. But good Lord was this week's episode bad. Herky-jerky plotting, ridiculous storylines, ham-handed parallels/juxtapositions, and the thinnest of all perfunctory throwaway-line motivations for important character decisions -- this episode had it all. Which is, you know, forgivable. I see it's the first episode of the show Elizabeth Ziff has written (she usually does the music) and IMDB isn't aware of anything else she's written, so I can at least assume that she hasn't written much else professionally, if anything at all.

And like I said, I'd be more sympathetic than sniping if that were the extent of it. But instead of just writing a bad episode of television, she also had to attempt to coin, by my count, at least three phrases over the course of the episode. I won't assume she can take credit for the birth of each of these entirely, but the show was clearly an attempt to inject them into the world at large. I caught "KOD," "FMS," and "gold star" and its numerous variants. There very well may have been more. But the point being, nothing will make me turn on bad writing faster than that kind of masturbatory opportunism.

So Elizabeth, if you want it, my advice to you is next time don't worry about coining any new phrases or hoping to hear your mark on the world being bandied about in the coffee shop a week later. Just worry about the story and the characters, and if they're good and handled well, the rest will come of its own accord. (At least, that's what I hear, not having any experience or success at that level whatsoever myself.)

The Lollipop That Changed the World

As I apparently feel compelled to keep telling you, I am very excited for Serenity. But man, nothing makes me want to dislike this movie more than Joss Whedon fans (professional and amateur alike):

...I still feel some anxiety that "Serenity" will be viewed by audiences unfamiliar with Whedon's work as just another sci-fi-geek enthusiasm.

Stop fooling yourself, honey. It is.

But as a friend told me in response, "Many of my favorite things are ruined by the fans."

Look, I loved Firefly. After discovering that fact on DVD, I decided to give another shot to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I always found overbearingly precious. So, I just finished watching the first season on DVD (and yes, I'm sure it gets better; it would have to, to have overcome the back-to-back twofer of horrendousness that was the robot/Internet episode (de rigueur for any mid-90s "spooker") and the ventriloquist's dummy episode). The verdict? It's, well, okay.

There were some episodes I really enjoyed (the finale in particular), some I disliked intensely (the aforementioned ineptitudes), and a vast swath in the middle that inspired nothing more than indifference. I see a lot of promise in the finale, and I'll probably watch the second season eventually to see where it goes. But it was not the high art I had heard about. It was not the stuff to spawn pop philosophy texts. It did not redefine television or take it anywhere it hadn't yet gone. It was, simply, a confectionery trifle that dovetailed nicely with the sensibilities of the postmodern popculturati. Really, it's okay to have "geek enthusiasms." Not everything has to challenge the bounds of the dominant narrative paradigm. Come to terms with that, make peace with it. If you have to, write an article doing so. It's got to be better reading than the ones you keep churning out trying to convince yourselves otherwise.

Lost Season 2 Premiere: Where were we?

Oh, that's right, nowhere.

In preparation for the second episode of the season tonight, here are a few quick thoughts of mine on last week's season premiere of Lost, the show I love to watch just so I know enough to ruin it for everyone else. (I also admit to occasionally enjoying myself while watching it. But it's becoming increasingly more frustrating than anything else, and so now I'm fully committing myself to taking the fun out of it for everyone else. I just can't take another Damon Lindelof interview where he prepares the audience to be disappointed. The guy's got more excuses than Abu Ghraib. Really, I wanted to like the show at the beginning. But starting with the betrayal of what they presented as the concept before the first episode (really, where were the hints at the mystical hokum? the polar bears? any of it? I was looking forward to a good character drama in a confined space with a limited cast), they've consistently disappointed me with cliche after cliche after cheap storytelling device after dumb plot twist. Well, that's it.) Okay, onward.

The first problem is the writers don't seem to have grasped that it's no fun if everything is connected. When everyone is in everyone else's backstory and it's all intertwined and inevitable, then the connections lose all of their power. No individual connection or revelation has any meaning or appeal when everything is that way. It also makes the viewing experience tedious and unrewarding, when the question is no longer what is connected and what isn't, and why, but merely how they're going to connect this with that, because they have to.

Example: The Numbers, of course. They're everywhere. On jerseys in airports. On hatches. And now on some guy's medicine in the hatch. Now think about it. What possible satisfying explanation could there be for these numbers and their appearance all over the map? There is no way to tie all those things together without a pat "they're mystical numbers with a power beyond our comprehension" explanation. (And I'll be the first to admit it if they manage to tie it all together with something other than a disappointing explanation of that nature. Really, I'll be shocked, and I'll perform my justly dealt penance.) Either that, or we just won't get an explanation for most of their occurences. We'll learn some sort of origin and explanation for The Numbers, but most of their appearances will just be chalked up to their simple power and importance. Which, as should be pretty obvious, makes those occurences meaningless except as an easter egg hunt designed to distract from the complete absence of anything resembling a coherent story.

As for what we learned in this episode, I have to give them credit. They covered far more ground than I anticipated. But then there were those sure-to-be-meaningless connections again: Jack's future wife's car accident killed an older man who shared his last name with Shannon, whose father is dead. Coincidence? Probably not. But along with every other connection, at this point explicable only at the hands of some ultimate mystical power that has no relation to the real world or any viewer. Gee, can't wait.

But what I really can't wait to discover is: What's the story with Desmond? I can't imagine what they have planned for Desmond. They're too subtle, too insidious. I want to know what's in store for Desmond. Don't you?

Woe Is Warren

Warren Bell--who is to The Corner a representative from the glitz and glamour of Hollywood the way the kid in sixth grade who touched his babysitter's boob while playing Marco Polo was your class sex expert--wraps up his recap of the first week of the new television season with a little note letting us know he could be a contenda, if they'd only give him a chance:

Also, Greg [Garcia, creator of My Name Is Earl] co-created "Yes, Dear," so he gets extra double credit for escaping the stigma sometimes attached to writers of "traditional" sitcoms. Like me.

Translation: The only thing keeping me from doing excellent work is my history of terrible work.

Overestimated Like a Fox

So, it appears that in my post about the abundance of one-word-named long-form story arc ensemble thrillorama dramas (bonus (negative) points to those shows that also strive for pseudo-science fiction, wherein completely inexplicable things are allowed to happen with no rhyme, reason or consequence, but there's no science) in the upcoming television season's schedule gave too much credit to Fox (ultimate butt of the joke they may have been). Turns out they have not just one, but two shows with one-word names.

First, there's Reunion, the commercials for which at least offer the chance of minimal pseudo-sci-fi. But, then again, anyone remember the commercials for Lost? They didn't exactly scream "genetically engineered polar bear loose in the tropics."

And then there's Bones, which follows not so much on the Lost model, but moreso on the Numb3rs (love that "3") model, wherein some sort of science dork solves crimes in an unusual but extremely specific way that offers about three basic storyline variations for your entire series, and has a one-word, this time plural, name. It makes you wonder, if they followed that show closely enough to make such a faithful duplicate, how they managed to miss the fact that it failed horribly, not only because, again, if you pitched me the basic premise of Numb3rs, I could immediately give you pretty much the exact first episode as a skeleton of what could be done with the premise, and then come up dry for any more. As it turns out, the same was true for the people actually making Numb3rs.

I guess we should just be happy we didn't end up with 80N35.

Really Lost

A peek at the transcript of one of those multi-network pitch meetings which I have it on good authority happen all the time.

Pitch Guy #1: What was the most successful new show last season?

Pitch Guy #2: Obviously, it was Lost.

PG1: Obviously.

PG2: So, why is it so successful?

PG1: Well, it's not very good, so that can't be it.

PG2: Definitely true. What else is there?

PG1: Well, it's got a one word name.

PG2: Yeah, it does. That must be it. What other words would be good as show names.

PG1: Invasion.

ABC: It's a go!

PG2: Uh...Threshold.

CBS: Green light!

PG1: Surface?

NBC: Sign us up!

PG2: You know, now that I think about it, maybe it has to be an adjective.

PG1: Huh, good point. Maybe you're right.

FOX: Good enough for us. We're in!

PG2: For what?

FOX: Adjective.

END

P.S. It's true. Lost isn't very good.