30 Rock

The Best 5 Shows On Television

Patty asked me to rank the top five shows on television. At first I was torn between trying to decide between my favorite five shows and what I considered the best five shows, but it turned out not to be an issue. Times have changed, and the critical darlings that I appreciated but never managed to warm to ('The Sopranos,' 'The Wire') are now retired, leaving the difference between what I and admire the most and love the dearest completely negligible.

Also, I generally think that whatever I like is probably what’s best for America. Onward!

With apologies to: ‘The Office,’ ‘Family Guy,’ ‘Entourage,’ ‘House,’ ‘Flight of the Conchords,’ ‘The Colbert Report,’ and ‘Weeds.’

5. (tie) ‘Pushing Daisies' (ABC) and ‘Friday Night Lights.’ (NBC and DirectTV)
The two shows couldn’t be more different: one’s a fanciful, vibrant fairy tale about a man who can bring back the dead for 60 seconds, the other a cinéma vérité look at Texas high school football. A year ago it would’ve been FNL by a landslide (a year ago “Daisies’ wasn’t on the air yet, so I guess the point is moot), but FNL’s second season maintained its excellent direction and writing but lost narrative direction, to say the least – by the end of the season, it was inexplicably a show about girl’s volleyball. Still, hope springs eternal, and with promise by its creators of better focus this year, it remains a top-five show. Meanwhile, ‘Daisies’ remains the most original show on broadcast television – a little Harry Potter, a little Amelie, all in sparkling highly saturated color. Extra points for breakout stars Anna Friel and Houston’s own Lee Pace

4. 'Californication.' (Showtime)
This one was a shock to me, but Showtime’s rather purple take on a struggling writer’s attempt to win back his ex-wife turned out to be one of the best shows I watched last year. David Duchovny found a role that fits him even better than Fox Mulder – as Hank Moody, he’s profane, narcissistic, and vicious, yet in a quiet, self-loathingly Zen-like manner that seems almost admirable. The James Dean of failing authors. Having a show on HBO or Showtime is often a boon – the shows spend more money over less episodes in order to keep quality high, and on shows like this one, it’s definitely clear that the strategy is working.

3. 'Mad Men.' (AMC)
Brilliant and verbose, with picture perfect culture landmarks to envelop the viewer into the world of advertising in the 1960’s, ‘Mad Men’ is everything to me that ‘Sopranos’ never could be – quiet, slowly developing, completely gripping intrigue. John Hamm is perfection as Don Draper – a dapper, self-absorbed yet completely brilliant ad exec – somehow managing to win the affection of the audience while holding them off with one hand. By the end of the first season, you feel that you both barely know him and know him better than he knows himself. Remarkable that this is AMC’s first ever narrative show.

2. 'Lost.' (ABC)
We have now crossed the threshold completely – after a below-par second season and an up-and-down third, ‘Lost’ broke out and completely reinvented itself, moving the narrative so quickly that the show has become a tornado of half-answered questions and dizzying plot devices. You are either entranced or you’ve given up completely, and I find myself in the first category. One way or another, the series finale will almost certainly be one of the most debated and rehashed television events of my generation.

1. '30 Rock.' (NBC)
Both one of the most sharply written and consistently funny shows on television, they have with their triumphant Emmy sweep now become its standard bearer for comedy. Somehow managing to be both NBC’s signature comedy (even over ‘The Office’) and yet remain a cult show (low ratings will do that to you), ’30 Rock’ seems willing to go anywhere for a laugh – the ensemble cast appears and disappears without conscience, only appearing if they actually fit into a storyline, a decidedly original strategy for sitcom television. Throw in virtually every good celebrity cameo on television this year – 7 out of the 11 nominees for Best Guest Actor or Actress in a Comedy Series were from ’30 Rock’ – and the selection’s a lock.

Wonderfalls

I've started watching "Wonderfalls" on DVD. It's marvelous.

You could always Wikipedia it if you wanted, but I'll give you a brief history of the show: it was a quirky drama/comedy (I've sworn off the word "dramedy," I suggest you do the same) that premiered in 2004 to solid critical acclaim and almost no viewership. The "Save Our Show" campaign started the night the pilot aired, which is awfully early even in these treacherous days of viewer-starved networks. The show made it through its 13-episode run but wasn't picked up again, which is a shame because it's one of the best and most original shows I've ever seen. But here's the thing:

I remember when the show came out. I remember seeing the promos airing, pitching the show to the public, trying to pique our interest. and I distinctly remember thinking "that show looks horrible! Who would want to watch that? That show is going to get canceled so quickly!" I even remember being glad when I heard that it was getting canceled, thinking "good riddance." And this is without ever watching any part of any episode of the show. That's how bad the promos were.

This got me thinking. If a show this good could look so bad, how is anyone to ever to know if a show is good or not? The only way we discover shows is by these advertisements. The timetable for keeping shows on the air is far too short now - the ballyhooed "Smith" lasted 4 episodes last fall - for word of mouth to spread and get people to watch them. These advertisements are the only methods we have for discovering shows, and yet the networks seem to put such little work into some of them. The big shows get huge, flashy promos played incessantly each episode, smaller shows are lucky to get their promos played at all. I used to work for an executive producer who sent endless memos to the head of the network (out of caution, I promise I won't mention which one), pointing out that while it was rare to see a promo for his show at any point during the week, promos for "CSI: Miami" (alright, that might have given away the network there) played literally every commercial break. They still do, in fact. Turn on CBS right now (I screwed that oath, didn't I?).

The fact is that if a network doesn't know how to sell a show - and with most clever, thinky shows that can't be boiled down to a 8-second spot, they don't have any clue - it doesn't have a chance. NBC knows how to sell "Las Vegas" (shots of dice bouncing on craps table! shots of girls in party dresses grinding on each other! shots of whichever current washed up celebrity is guesting! Roll title graphic!), but not "Studio 60" ("I don't know how to condense six minutes of clever repartee into this ad, boss." "Just put in the last two lines, and we'll add a stinger so it sounds like a punchline. We've got to keep moving on this so we can focus on the 3-D effects for the 'Deal or No Deal' spot.")

In the past few years, we've lost "Firefly," "Arrested Development," and "Freaks and Geeks" without ever noticing what we'd lost until too late, because the shows never manged to find the audience they needed - and deserved. In a few months, we'll probably lose "30 Rock" and "Friday Night Lights" for the same reason (though props to NBC for sticking with 'em this long). I just wish we could find a way to alleviate the problem. Because until further notice, we've placed all our entertainment choices in the hands of the advertisers. And that's just not right.

Easter/Rob Thomas/Goldie Hawn/30 Rock

Apologies for not posting, but things have been awfully busy around here with Easter coming up. Between Maundy Thursday, videos for Easter morning, and this big concert we've got going on tonight, it's been a mess. Still, Leeland plays a free concert tonight on the lawn, and I get to film it, so I'm siked.

No one uses that word anymore besides me, but I just don't think there's that many good words that fit that meaning. I could use "jazzed" or "fired up," but both sound lamer than "siked," which is weird since "siked" kinda died for good in the early 90's. Though I guess "jazzed" probably died a lot earlier than that.

Most of your know that I'm a Matchbox Twenty fan from way back - sometimes it's the only thing people remember about me, since there are so few people these days who admit that they love Matchbox Twenty - and so it might seem strange to you that I finally heard the latest Rob Thomas single "Little Wonders" and got all depressed. But I knew that hearing that song meant that Matchbox Twenty is officially over. The band took a hiatus a year or two back in order that everyone could go and work on inferior side projects - you might remember I reviewed Thomas' first album - but I was dearly hoping that they'd get back together and make music again, because frankly Rob Thomas just isn't all that great by himself. There's a lasting power to all of Matchbox Twenty's records that Thomas just doesn't have by himself. "Little Wonders" was more of the same - a nice song, but nothing we'll be singing in ten years. I miss having a real, raw, guitar sound behind him. This song sounds like - and, in fact, is - something off the soundtrack to a kid's movie. And not one of the good ones. This one:


Yaaaaay.

In other news, I've been watching old episodes of "Laugh-In" - the church bought the DVDs for a film project I did - and I discovered a beautiful, talented Goldie Hawn. It's weird for me since basically I've known nothing about Goldie Hawn all my life except that she used to be a famous starlet, and now she's old and has a famous starlet daughter. That's all I'd ever thought of her as. And now, watching "Laugh-In," it's impossible for someone to watch and not go "well, no wonder she became famous." She was fantastic on that show.

By the way, if you're not watching "30 Rock" by now, you really should be:

"Let me teach you, Lemon. I would like to be Michelle Pfeiffer to your angry black kid who learns that poetry... is just another way to rap."

Paired with "The Office," it's the best night on television, plus the fact that the three shows around it ("Andy Barker, P.I.," "Scrubs," and "My Name Is Earl") may be on and off, but when they're on, they're really, really good.