Goodbye, farewell, and Amen

Ok, so that last entry was barely in English. I plan to try harder this time to write properly in the language I technically have a Bachelor of Arts (Honours) in.

What inspires me this time? Last night’s flip-flopping finale of Alias. On one hand, a fitting sendoff to a series I feel (at its best) showed how exhilarating popcorn TV and serialized storytelling can be. On the other hand, parts of my brain — the parts now spoiled for detail and Byzantine storytelling thanks to J.J. Abrams’ new(er) TV baby Lost — keep shouting questions into my psyche along the lines of: “HEY! So, why did Prophet 5 capture Sydney earlier in the season? Wasn’t it to do with her baby? Who was The Cardinal and why did we care? Didn’t Irina still love Sydney? How was Rambaldi’s endgame tied to the floating zombie ball from last season, the clock, the Telling, the … etc, etc etc? Did they REALLY have to kill Victor Garber?”

These are questions I have no answer to, and I kinda wish I did. I still cherish my seasons one to three boxsets, and will pick up the rest for completion, and cuz they weren’t really that bad at all, but on the whole, Alias deserved a much finer sendoff, and probably even one a year or so earlier.

Which bring me to my point: series finales. There have been some doozies, and there have been some duds, but which was which? And why do I think so? Here comes that list.

Doozies (in no particular order … yet):

Angel — Though I thought season five was one of the strongest, with an interesting challenge to the series’ premise of the righteous battle against evil, and though I do believe the series could have gone another year, David Boreanaz and crew went out fighting the good fight, with some palpable losses along the way. Very much in keeping with the spirit of the show as a whole.

Arrested Development — Another of my favourites shot down before its time, but after getting a two-hour block of wrap-up goodness, peace was made with its passing. Creator and mastermind Mitch Hurwitz was allowed to end his story how he wanted, with just the right amount of hilarity, schmaltz, resolution and open-endedness.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine — Time has much mellowed my Star Trek mania, but the 1999 finale of what was easily the best Trek series still sticks in my mind as possibly the first series finale I was really cognizant of and invested in. When TNG ended five years earlier, I was a 13 year old Star Trek nut, but I hadn’t put in the time with TNG from the beginning, as I did with DS9. Plus, the minds in charge had the balls to kill their captain, not just a random lower-billed member of the crew (*cough*Enterprise*cough). Time may not have been as kind to this one, as too much is done even following an eight episode wind-down and three full seasons of arc plotting, but there was still the needed gravitas to end the show powerfully.

Farscape — Almost didn’t happen, almost ended with a black screen and the words “to be continued.” Technically it was a TV-movie, but the boy got the girl, the good guys won, things went boom (really big), and all was well. Basically, it followed the ideal blueprint for an exciting, sci-fi ending.

Duds:

Buffy — I was never a diehard, but season two and threeish Buffy are some damn fine TV. If only the end weren’t an obligatory big bang accompanied by the safest finale death of all time (Anya) from the man who reveled in powerful killings. Luckily, someone else got to write the Angel finale.

Firefly/Wonderfalls/Clone High/____________(future favs here) — Finally, a catch-all for those other favourites of mine, too soon taken from this world and not given the chance for a proper finale, not because of any particularly bad final episode.

Coming soon, a similar list of season finales, but I’m waiting on this until after Wednesday and Lost, which should be another doozie.

Hot Guys. Hot Show. So why is it so good?

Ok, so I forgot about the blog for a while. In other news, the sky was called “blueish, possibly blue.” Let’s just say I wasn’t surprised.
But, time for going back to it. There’s one month left in most TV seasons, the network upfronts are about that far away, and we’re getting down to the wire in some of the fantastic stories that have unfurled over the last year. But, I want to focus on just one of the recent series’ that have me following closely and anticipating with varying levels of eagerness.
I’ve already called Supernatural a sleeper on this page, but the show has consistently surprised me in its ability to transcend its veritable three-word network pitch (“Buffy with boys”), and its eye-candy veneer (the CityTV tagline is literally “Hot Guys. Hot Show.”) into something that is as or more compelling than most top-notch genre shows I can recall.
Being on the WB has served the show better than almost any other network. It’s free of gigantic ratings expectations that would be found on something like an ABC or an NBC. The heartthrob appeal of the show, a trademark of the WB, might be a kiss of death for a show trying to be as dark as this does if it hadn’t found two fantastic leads. Jared Padalecki, who I capital-H hated on Gilmore Girls, is excellent as the straight-man to Jensen Ackles’ wise-cracking, skirt-chasing half of the demon-hunting brother duo.
And that word duo. There’s acres more you could say about a show, post-80s (Quantum Leap, Kate & Allie, Moonlighting) and post X-Files, who decides to go with a two-person lead cast. And on top of that, a two-person, twentysomething, former guest spot special team, who were far from a lock as able to carry an hourlong series, have turned out to be one of the unheralded gems of the year.
Basically, Supernatural is a great example of doing simple really well. There’s an overarching, compelling story, there’s great chemistry between the two leads, there’s a great eeriness and humour to the show, and yet it’s accessible to anyone with a good balance of serialized and episodic stories. In fact, I’d have to say that it strikes that balance (serial/capsule) better than most shows I’ve seen. Its direct predecessors, shows like Buffy, Angel, X-Files, Roswell, and Millennium, all had trouble finding wider audiences because of less accessible serialized stories, and one of Supernatural’s biggest strengths is the immediate way it found that precise point between maintaining compelling continuing plot points and monster-of-the-week action. You always know the ultimate goal these guys are working towards (avenging the death of their mother/Sam’s girlfriend, and working to live up to their dad’s history as a demon hunter) but that didn’t stop or get in the way of the weekly fun of giving compelling adventures.
All things considered, I would really like to see this thing back on the CW next year. It’s another item for my TV Santa list for TV Christmas week, which all the good TV pundit boys and girls look forward to mid-May.

Battlestar FANTASTICA

So, I took the weekend away from the TVblog, but not from the TV world. Not that there was too much going on, except that there was everything going on.

Battlestar Galactica: (BEWARE SPOILERS) What I’m now fully prepared to label the best show on TV (Lost is a veryveryveryveryveryvery close second, but after the finale, BG is ahead by a nose) took its second season bow in a sweeping gesture not seen in my TV world since Alias.
Basically, the Cylons withdrew (for a little while), Hologram Al (Dean Stockwell) is the newest Cylon model to be revealed, an election was (not quite) stolen, there was a great big boom, and then it’s a year later. For a lesser show, any one of these twists would have been enough for a finale, or even a whole season, but not for my beloved Battlestar.
The normally staid and moral Laura Roslin tried to steal the presidential election, but was tripped up by the watchful, dutiful eye of Felix Gaeta. Caught out, Baltar takes his rightful (well, at least his earned) place as President of the Colonies, and his first move is to settle the remains of humanity in the permafrost of Northern BC, or so it looked. Then tortured PegaSix sets off a nuke that apparently kills about 3,000 people. A nuke which Baltar gave her.
Flashforward to a year later. Baltar is a lecherous pill-popper prez. Starbuck is married to jock Anders, who is clearly about to kick the bucket, primarily due to his casting in Anthony Stewart Head’s new sitcom. Tigh and Starbuck are friendly, Adama has a Miami Vice moustache and smokes filterless cigarettes (Helo is Galactica’s new XO), Apollo has gained about 40 pounds (Dee XO on Pegasus), and Tyrol is a union leader from the 1960s (with pregnant Cally by his side).
So, enough twists? Not quite yet. Where the simple change of environment would have been enough to shake up the show for a long time to come, Ron Moore and the rest of the creative staff have to be relentless in making us hurt for season three in October.
Of course, the Cylons have to return to the sitting ducks on New Caprica, no doubt with more sinister plans. So, by the time we fade to black on the season, humanities last remains are under Cylon control, the fleet is long gone, and nothing is as we knew it in the Galactica universe. It’s enough to send any fanboy’s head reeling, as I can fully testify to. But that’s what makes the show so damned good in the first place. Things happen on this show. You never know when or where some major change is going to occur, but nothing ever feels like a cheat. Changes grow out of characters, plot twists feel real and justified, actions have real consequences, be they good or bad. That, and these characters are more real than any I’ve ever encountered in any sci-fi before in my life.
And! My oldest friend Jon, previously mentioned in this here blog as working on Galactica and appearing somewhere in the finale, was totally one of the guys doing the actual ballot box switching to rig the election. Hot damn but I’m proud.
It’s going to be a long wait until October.
Next time, possibly some Sopranos chatter, as the stupid show is now making me watch it with all this buzz. Peace out y’all.

Bit of a switchup

I said I was going to write on Galactica.
I lied.
I will reserve gushing for ever and ever and ever and ever until after I watch the two-part season finale, as I’ve downloaded part one from last Friday, but I’ve yet to watch it and decided to hold off doing so until I had part two as well, creating a glorious, two and a half hour, nerdtastic unit.
OH! And! And! My best friend since four years old, Jon “Jonny Boy JBW” Watson, who does PA work on the Galactica set, apparently shows up ONSCREEN, recognizably and semi-prominently, in some fashion on which he would not elaborate, in part two, airing, as of right now, in 42 minutes on Sci-Fi in the U S of A. So, if trends follow from the last nine weeks of airing, I’ll have the whole thing downloaded by this time tomorrow night, probably watched by midnight.

So, where to go in the meantime?

The CW. Yeah, ok, that sounds good. Semi-recently, it was announced that in the fall, UPN and the WB will fold and merge into a single network, looking to end the mutually defeating fight for consistent fifth place in weekly ratings.

The good news for all of us? The elimination of most of the largely flaccid schedules of both, and the resulting melding of each network’s best. Suffice to say, in echoing new CW president Dawn Ostroff’s thoughts from the initial announcement, the idea of a Veronica Mars/Gilmore Girls double bill is more than a little exciting.

As independent entities, both networks were marginally successful in creating an identity for themselves, the WB more successfully, but neither managed the kind of mainstream success that elevated Fox into the bigtime. That’s not to say they didn’t try.

The WB has been notorious for shooting for the tween-teeny crowd, or for cheesy family comedy-dramas, from earlier days with Buffy and Angel, Dawson’s Creek, Roswell, 7th Heaven, to latter day Gilmore Girls, Everwood, Smallville, One Tree Hill, and its largely disastrous Friday night comedy block.

A decent number of those shows have either gone on to some cult/realistic success, and even some critical acclaim, but rarely will you ever hear about a WB show climbing much higher than fourth in the ratings.

UPN on the other hand has tried and failed more times to ‘brand’ itself than I care to count. Christening itself upon inception as the home of wrestling and Star Trek went about as it deserved to, which is to say not very well. Voyager was an anemic foray into the Star Trek universe, too much of whose creative staff went on to create the next, and last, Star Trek: Enterprise, where safety and status quo became the death of the franchise. Wrestling came and went, and the attempt to become the ‘black’ channel brought a drubbing from critics and viewers alike. Only in the last couple years has any popular or artistic success come out of the network, but they had hemorrhaged so many viewers by that point that America’s Next Top Model and Everybody Hates Chris even making a blip on ratings scales and Veronica Mars still standing almost purely on the strength of pretty much unanimous critical praise.

So, what will be left standing when these two fall into one, and why should you care?

First, as mentioned, a Veronica Mars/Gilmore Girls pairing would be sassy, pop-culture-savvy bliss. Second, the bigwigs behind the netlet seem to be willing to take chances on the actual good shows already on the network, like Supernatural, which while not stellar in the ratings, is exactly the sort of sleeper hit that is something to build a night around. Plus, both networks’ successful reality (or other similar thematic) forays, (Beauty and the Geek/Top Model, Smallville/Aquaman) can be conglomerated into a single night, same with the decent comedies, and, most importantly, the fat from the outskirts of both current schedules has a firm death warrant.

All in all, it promises to be a very promising and intelligent change on the TV horizon.

Jump in. Swim.

Alright, hopefully some/any of you made it past the intro below and can now jump into the meat of a semi-regular blogomatic. Prepare to soak in my thoughts.

Of the two most recent additions to the landscape, which I made it a point to catch during reruns of my usual busy Tuesday night, I think there is a bit to be said, particularly about the sitcom of the two.

The Unit (CBS): A 24/Alias cross, with a decidedly Desperate Housewives element, all under the watchful eye of creator David Mamet(!). First, I’ll say I think I see some promise. How much, and if it’ll gain a spot on an already very busy Tuesday night, is yet to be seen. Dennis Haysbert, 24’s late President David Palmer, is an effective anchor in the hectic environment of an uber-covert ops unit, with Scott Foley adding some good experience to the standard “new-guy” co-lead. One of the things I like about Mamet is how his characters always seem to speak in a familiar shorthand, making his worlds feel lived in even if we’re brand new to them. At times its exactly that aspect that can turn people off if it’s not effective — my better half, for instance, at times cannot stand the clipped, orchestrated dialogue style he very purposefully creates, and even as a fan of his I agree he often goes way too far, though she also finds it as effective as I do at times. However, in a broadcast television environment, his stylistic edge is blunted a tad, though where purists might turn away, I find it makes it more accessible and viewer-friendly. But one of the other interesting things about the show, which will likely be one of the telling points as to whether it sinks or swims, is the dual structure set up that pits high-flying action, army-dude centric storylines opposite stories that follow said army dudes’ wives back at home on the base, dealing with ordinary domestic life as influenced by the secrets that weigh over their heads at all times. There’s already the hints of something sinister going on behind the scenes of “The Unit”, and of course there’s the requisite rebellious new wife who may or may not be willing to keep up the clandestine life of a black ops wife.

Sons & Daughters (ABC): Basically, Arrested Development-Lite. I didn’t hate it, as I thought I would upon seeing the promos, but I don’t see how various other sources of TV-bloginess could be “milk-out-the-nose” laughing at any point. I had one, maybe two, good out-loud laughs in an hour, compared to dozens in the pilot of Arrested Development. I suppose the improvisational nature affects it in my eyes, as that leans more towards Curb Your Enthusiasm territory, a show which I have never understood the appeal of, except that one time I watched a bit of it with the sound off, a tweak that made it a very entertaining piece of throwback, pratfall, silent era farce. Sons & Daughters just suffers from a dearth of truly talented improvisers, and in a regular (or at least very recurring) cast of more than a dozen, very strong characters are needed to pump things up. Ironically, in what is usually the complete opposite of the truth, the kids on the show are so far the strongest links. Eden Sher, as the of course precocious, sarcastic thirteen year-old whose questions about her parents sex life make everyone uncomfortable, and Randy Wayne, as the cool, athletic, pretty, boring teen is surprisingly good, if only the character weren’t so dull. Basically, even those making the show admit the similarities to my beloved AD, but where that show excelled and soared on its characters who were, to quote S&D exec producer, creator and star Fred Goss, “from f***ing Mars”, these people have their feet firmly planted on dull, bland, Earth.

Ok, hopefully you made it through the intro and my actual “column”, and will enjoy tuning in regularly. Next time: … I haven’t decided yet. Maybe Lost, maybe Battlestar. Probably Battlestar. Tune in and find out.

Stop. Rewind. A new start.

So, I’ve found a purpose for my life. Ok, maybe just my blog. Something about which I constantly have something new to say. Something that just keeps coming and coming and causing little restless neurons in my brain to head on over to their neighbours and borrow cups of sugar or carry on illicit affairs. Something called television.

I know, I know, most of you (all maybe dozen or so of you who are actually reading this) are thinking “oh boy, cuz I really care what he thinks about THAT.” But seeing as I want to make my life somehow connected to the idiot box, I figured it would be good to be exercising the old brainmeats on a related tangent more regularly. And who knows, I may turn on some friends to some quality entertainment, as I of course do not believe in passive television, and I hope to remove some of the idiocy from said box.

Lets start, like any good bondage session, by first laying out some boundaries. There will be little to no (due to the cloying appeal of the recent MuchMusic VJ Search, I can’t rule out the genre entirely) reality TV discussed herein, except to muse on the degrading quality I find it has on the culture of popular television as a whole. I may go into genre TV more than some readers enjoy, as I have been a card-carrying geek since grade school, but lets just say I’ve been attending fewer meetings lately, so it won’t become unbearable. And of course there are only so many hours in my night, so various shows (maybe your favourite) may get little to no attention. If any of you out there have any thoughts on any show I do or do not mention, or if you simply want to point out how wrong I am about something, feel free to light up my comments page, or throw at egg at my car.

So, onto the good stuff. First, how about we look at my overall weekly rotation (as the evening, major network-only, schedule stands as of right now), but also break it up into must-watches and try-to-catches, semi-chronologically from Sunday to Saturday:

Must watch:
Gilmore Girls, Scrubs, Supernatural, Boston Legal, Bones, Lost, Veronica Mars, Alias, The Office, Numb3rs, Battlestar Galactica

Try to catch:
24, Simpsons, Family Guy, American Dad, The Unit, MuchMusic VJ Search, My Name is Earl, C.S.I., Will & Grace, Sopranos, Monk

So, those shows are more or less what you’ll find discusses herein, as well as general trends/news/developments in the world of the small screen. There’s a few omissions from that list, such as shows that I still watch that are on hiatus (Entourage, Slings and Arrows), but they’ll be brought up again once they again enter my TV radar.

I will never pontificate on the latest wannabe voted off American Idol. I will never even mention American Idol except possibly to muse on the ratings behemoth it has become and how the constant glut of viewers that follow it around affects the general landscape of primetime, as it most definitively has a profound effect on nearly everything on most nights in some way or another. Also, I think I should also lay out some of my past favourites so you’ll know what to expect in things I may pick up in future or will complain about its treatment and how general public idiocy blah blah blah – the usual TV snob stuff.

Past faves:
Arrested Development, Firefly, Wonderfalls, Futurama, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Angel, Enterprise, Newsradio, Kids in the Hall

Ok, that about covers the basics. Now, since I usually have great trouble controlling myself when it comes to length of writing, I’m going to stop short of the actual meat of the first edition of the buh-log, and sign off, letting the intro sink in and post my actual timely thoughts in 18 or so hours. Hope to see you then.

Cars can be stupid

**Important note, especially for friends getting this link in a long-delayed email, be sure to start with the post at least one below this, if not the whole thing. The preamble to this one starts below, and was the one I had intended on starting you off with, but this is just how things worked out.**

I almost wish I didn't grow up with an attachment to having a car around. Down south here it's led me to nothing but trouble.

First, giant tree falls on my car in windstorm last April (2004). Write off. Buy new one.

Now, idiot woman plows into my PARKED car on Beth's parents' street in Richmond Hill. And did we all know CAA won't tow your car if you're not standing beside it? I sure didn't, even after talking to a CAA guy, and THEN coming back to St. Catharines to, you know, work for money and stuff. Though I would have gotten a complimentary (read: until I went to pick up the car, that is) tow from the city of Richmond Hill had I not gotten there with a tow truck of my own in time. Apparently it's a crime to have an idiot break your rear axle and then not have the money to get a non-CAA tow truck to bring it all the way back to St. Catharines. You get tickets for it and everything. But I do enjoy the fact that the moron who hit me is probably getting her license taken away (its her third serious accident in as many, or fewer, years), and that her insurance, covered by the same provider as mine, is covering a rental car for me, even though I don't have rental coverage. Though, y'know, I'd probably enjoy it even more if she hadn't decided to swerve into the ass end of my car. Just a thought.

In unrelated news, apartment hunting has begun in Toronto, and hopefully I'll be finding out tomorrow about a real, honest to gosh, PAYING job at The Walrus come January. If it works out, I can have a normal, 9-5 (ok, 11-7) sit-down job for once in my damn life. I'm kinda sick of this seven-days-a-week thing, and of having more stuff to do outside of ordinary work hours, like it's been for the last five years.

But yeah, about that, I've now gotta go mark.

Bizounce, homeys.