Now that the brand spanking new seasons of our favourite American television shows are hitting their stride, it seems only prudent, does it not, to take them off the air for a week here, a week there and, get this, maybe even a few weeks in a row just to, you know, keep viewers on their toes and that. I mean, why wouldn’t you want to jeopardise the strength of the fan base you are so delicately accumulating, or confuse the hell out of those that have stuck with you since the beginning? Who really needs those fuckers anyway? The answer, of course, is every programme that has ever come spooling out of the inner recesses of its creator’s warped little mind, and so it’s with a significant amount of bemusement that I cast my eye over the USA’s scheduling plans at this time of year and ask, “why, gogglebox overlords, WHY??!!” Just look at TV Guide’s listings for the next few weeks: Heroes is about to get its first broadcasting break, Prison Break is one on, one off, one on, one off again, Fringe is now at the start of a THREE week absence and Terminator, well, that show just doesn’t know where the bloody hell it is half of the time. It’s small wonder so many shows are hacked from the schedules before they’ve had a chance to flex their muscles with the big boys – how on Earth are they ever expected to compete when viewers can’t even be assured that the bleeding things are actually going to be available for them to watch?
The consequences for you, dear reader, are simply that this blog entry will be shorter than perhaps expected, and that this trend will more than likely continue into the coming weeks. Admittedly, I have slacked somewhat with Screenaged Kicks for the last week or so (largely due to my various excursions around the UK) but, it seems, this two week television review update actually won’t be the equivalent of War and Peace. We do have two episodes of South Park, Desperate Housewives and Heroes to stroke our collective chins over, but of the others, merely one. So let’s stop beating around the bush, shall we? Fringe. First and foremost, did anyone else catch the potential South Park homage in this gore-fest of an episode? Oh sure, exploding heads are nothing new but when Walter and co. are working on the remains of poor Patient Zero in the lab, we are subjected to a delightfully gratuitous shot of what is left of her skull… and it looks exactly the same as Matt and Trey’s Britney caricature. You know, the one earlier this season when she attempts to blow her head off and then ends up wandering around with just a chin for a face? The shape’s identical and everything! You can’t tell me that’s a coincidence. Nah ah… no way. Squealing fan boy moment aside, ‘The Cure’ functions perfectly nicely as a stand-alone episode with a few innocuous nods to the show’s ever-developing mythology: seeing Massive Dynamic woman again, Peter’s pontificating over the significance of The Pattern and so on. It’s well written and paced, maintaining the urgency of the overall investigation by punctuating the narrative with a series of enigmas and resolving them hastily, while concurrently returning to the central point of disequilibrium on sufficient occasions to reiterate the gravitas of the overall situation. As usual, the pre-credits sequence is a corker; the execution of the ‘micro waving’ (for want of a less absurd description) is shockingly graphic and considerably disturbing, further lending credence to the notion that Fringe could give its idolised predecessor The X Files a run for its money in introductory shock value. The only real points of contention lie in the continued overuse of ‘characterial sympathy’; yet again, the show’s writers are determined to draw Olivia’s personal history into the story and, unfortunately, it doesn’t really work here. Her stepfather abused her mother, so she feels an affinity for the women who have been abducted and are being experimented upon? Well… if Fringe hadn’t already thrown this sort of plot point at us with each preceding episode, perhaps I would’ve let it go. But the highly tenuous nature of the link betrays the writers’ desperation: they’re looking for issues to graft onto the plot, rather than allowing them to rise naturally out of it. I dunno… perhaps I’m just being a bit of an emotional buzz kill. I’m sure a large proportion of viewers love this sort of stuff and normally, yeah, I’d probably side with them. But this doesn’t feel like narrative and character holding hands and waltzing off happily into the distance; this feels like they’re being chained together in a darkened room and force fed whiny platitudes for all eternity. Guys, it wouldn’t hurt, you know, to just give us a week where the emotional investment is kept to a minimum. Just a thought.
106: ‘The Cure’: 8.4
Wrs: Brad Caleb Kane & Felicia D. Henderson; Dr: Bill Eagles
I’m tempted to say the same of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles after this week’s fourth or fifth slow mover of an episode in a row. Look, I understand that it would be somewhat counterproductive to make each instalment an all out action fest of pant-wettingly gargantuan proportions as the inherent formula of the show (John and Sarah pursued by whacked out cyborgs from the future) would become very stale very fast. But come on guys! Give us something, would ya? A mystery here and there, perhaps? Some life-threatening situations or conundrums to work our way out of? Anything but more Shirley Manson! Okay, okay… she wasn’t that bad in this one. At least she got to play up the ‘I’m a robot and don’t understand human emotion’ side of her ‘character’. But sending her ‘daughter’ to a shrink? Is that really the most riveting plot point the production staff of the show can come up with? And before any diehards start bleating about the significance of the whole ‘lower level’, exactly how much time did we spend in those secret rooms with the machine that’s developed a sense of humour? I’d hazard a guess at about, oooh, four minutes tops. The main focus of the hour, undoubtedly, was on the human psychoanalysis of Savannah and, later, John by ‘Skynet’s’ latest recruit. Which wouldn’t be so bad if there was something significant to be said in amongst it all. Sadly though, all we get is the resolve for cyborg Mommy dearest to stroke her child a bit more (oh, and build some neato Lego sculptures) and, after a number of irritatingly laconic false starts, the revelation that, shock of all shocks, it was John that killed Sarcyssian in the season premiere. Well really, did any of us see that one coming? Blow me down with a feather, what a plot twist! Those writers sure know how to suckerpunch us, huh? Well, erm, no… not in the bleeding slightest. It’s not even as if we were treated to much more of an insight into the inner workings of young Connor either (and yes, the double entendre is intended there… nudge nudge, wink wink): his broken utterances, steely glares and limited revelations about his feelings towards his mother don’t really add up to anything satisfactory. So what else do we have? Well, the plot is given something of a kick in the pants with the introduction of a new, kick ass female Terminator, and the sequence between she and Cameron in the elevator is the perfect balance of suspense and, oddly enough, comedy, but then there’s the other side of the multi-faceted narrative coin: Derek’s love interest who suddenly pops up out of nowhere, having a little jog and they indulge in, you know, a bit of sex. As you do. There’s one tiny snippet of relevance to the on-going story toward episode’s end when we find she’s been photographing our favourite fugitives (saucy minx!) but, in the interim, we have to wade through several scenes of irrelevant mush to get there. The poor woman is given virtually no characterisation of any merit whatsoever and, consequently, I couldn’t give a flying f**k about her past with Brian Austin Green. Really, I couldn’t. Sorry Terminator, but if you want to earn your recent promotion to full season bigwig (yes, FOX commissioned a complete set of 22 episodes), you’re going to have to do a lot better than this. Here’s a thought: move the plot forward. Here’s another thought: get Thomas Dekker to take his clothes off. It’d make me happy anyway.
206: ‘The Tower is Tall but the Fall is Short’: 6.5
Wr: John Enbom; Dr: Tawnia McKiernan
Perhaps the Terminator production staff should pop down to the Prison Break studios for some hints and tips. Truly, I find myself overwhelmed at the quality of material that these guys have been putting out, week after week, since the sub-par season premiere. Midway through last year’s lacklustre third season, I was ready to write the show off. It was good for two years, I thought, until the writers tripped over their own limited format and began scrambling for ideas in an effort to keep things interesting. And yeah, when we were treated to the somewhat transparent ‘Scylla’, I was sure we were about to be subjected to another year of the same. Not so. Oh, how I’m eating my words now. Prison Break has really turned around since its effective reboot at the start of September; once the pieces were shunted into place, albeit in a somewhat clunky fashion, the exploits of Michael Schofield and co. have once again become must see TV. And ‘The Price’ continues this new found tradition. Structurally, the episode is quite a straightforward one. The narrative is divided into two principle storylines – the retrieval of the General’s card and Roland’s betrayal – and is padded out with some additional sequences involving the fantastically deranged Gretchen. The interweaving of these strands is executed with finite precision, with each building toward an eminently satisfying crescendo at the ¾ hour mark, following which the aftermath is played out in all its delicious glory. Keeping the story simple, not jumping between snippets of narrative here and there, gives ‘The Price’ a cohesive feel and ensures that the weight of each plot’s ultimate outcome is delivered with significant force. The failure of Lincoln’s plan to acquire the General’s card, for example, while telegraphed, is highly satisfying because it comes encased in the frankly superb execution of Roland’s downfall, discovery and (part) redemption. This is by far the episode’s highlight, in every possible dimension: the sequence in which he confronts Wyatt is expertly written, with each beat more callous and shocking than the last. It is also wonderfully executed; Bobby Roth’s direction is calculated and methodical, drawing the tragic horror of the moment out for maximum effect. And let’s not forget the actors involved. This is surely James Liao’s finest hour; for a character that most Prison Break fans have either loathed or felt utterly indifferent about over the last seven weeks to receive the level of concern that is now being bandied about in fan forums is testament to the skill of the actor playing him. In the space of one or two small scenes, Roland becomes hugely empathetic, and not only because he is faced with death, but because he is truly redemptive. The closing sequence, in which Michael quietly clings to him until he passes away, successfully conveys this notion and is satisfyingly poignant… something that perhaps we wouldn’t always be quick to associate with a show as fast-paced and unforgiving as this. It certainly left a sinking feeling in my gut and that’s got to be a sign of greatness, no matter how you look at it. Elsewhere, Sarah’s flashbacks are wonderfully depicted, and thrillingly sick, and her all-too-brief encounter with PSYCHOBITCH Gretchen is yet another home run: brilliantly warped, yet equally rather moving, stuff. It is certainly refreshing to see a show that so many had sent packing from their weekly schedules, shake itself down, pick up the pieces and resolve to return to what made it so God damn addictive in the first place. Here’s hoping it continues.
408: ‘The Price’: 9.1
Wr: Graham Roland; Dr: Bobby Roth
Et tu, Heroes, et tu. I’ve harped on just about enough over the past few weeks about this show’s return to season one standards so I’m not going to bore you all again with it, except to say that yes, episodes six and seven, the two part ‘Dying of the Light’/’Eris Quod Sum’, are really rather good. You wouldn’t know it from glancing at TV.com, of course, but then, how far can you really trust reviews that consist of ‘OMG CLAIRE IS SO ANNOYING AND JESUS WON’T THEY JUST GET RID OF MAYA AND NO ONE CARES ABOUT PETER AND OMG OMG OMG EXPLODE’? Well, I’ll let you all make up your own minds about that one. I read an interesting article in the current issue of the UK’s SFX magazine the other day, in which Tim Kring revealed that the writing staff’s current approach to scripting the show consists of ‘Haiku storytelling’. To quote the man, ‘You take a story that would normally take ten beats to tell and you try to find a way to tell it in five. It makes for a very exciting kind of storytelling where every scene is very complete and very full.’ For the most part, I agree with the implementation of this approach. Slowness of pace and padding of plot is what made Heroes’ second season somewhat below par, so upping the ante in this fashion has got to be a good thing… and from the evidence we’ve been given for the past few weeks, that theory’s been borne out. I do have one major reservation, however, and that is that the active attempt to shoehorn plot, to compact it into a set amount of narratalogical space, may ultimately prove counterproductive to its own execution. Sometimes, narrative has to be allowed room to breathe; events and developments need some time to develop and prosper. This is particularly true of character beats: while it hasn’t happened to a significant extent yet, it is possible that Kring’s notion of ‘Haiku storytelling’ may not allow his audience to warm to any changes or developments in the arcs of particular characters. On a minute scale, Tracey and Nathan’s minor-scale romance (holding hands!) is indicative of this as it seems to have sprung out of nowhere, while Sylar’s attempts to be a ‘hero’, to rid himself of his villainous past, while explained quite logically within the context of the plot and also understandable, nevertheless niggle a little when compared to the sheer wealth of his, well, evilness in seasons past. Perhaps if this development had been given, say, eight or nine episodes to reach the point where he is trying to be good rather than, well, one or two, viewers wouldn’t be so ready to down remotes in bemused disgust and return to their copies of The Umbrella Academy.
Still, this reviewer is perfectly happy to accept Sylar’s current status as potential hero-in-the-making, if only because, well, you do have to drop all semblance of believability when it comes to this show really, don’t you? It’s making for some great sequences between he and Peter (the electro-fight in the first episode is awesome) and, ultimately, Kring and co are careful to ensure that shafts of Gabriel past come shining through when the carrot is dangled in front of him: see his potential ‘recruitment’ to Pinehurst for further evidence of this. And hey, what a series of twists and turns overall, eh? First, Adam Monroe snuffs it in one of the most surprising deaths by old age ever depicted on screen. Then, Maury Parkman bites the dust without even so much as a ‘Goodbye Matty, nice messing with your head’. And let’s not forget Daphne’s betrayal (nope, definitely didn’t see that one coming), the split second in which we all thought it might be curtains for poor Matt and his turtle (is it just me, or is Knox getting ever more likeably bad ass with each episode?), Mohinder’s continued lack of mental stability and, of course, that moment at the end of episode six in which Peter’s powers go bye bye. Which is probably a good thing, in all honesty, for the foreseeable future. Arthur’s power – transference of others’ abilities from them to him – is completely logical, given Sylar and Peter’s similar variants on the theme, and is, evidently, the most potentially lethal of them all, making him a superbly sinister villain. And on that subject, what about Puppet Guy, eh? His scenes in ‘Dying of the Light’ simply ooze menace; for the first time since the season opener, the production staff take their time with the depiction of the sequence, milking every possible scare out of a deliciously harrowing situation. The ‘Russian Roulette’ with Claire’s family is fascinating to watch, even if the outcome is ultimately rather predictable, and it’s largely thanks to the actor playing Doyle: I defy you not to want to crawl right behind the sofa whenever he opens his mouth or, indeed, moves a limb. In amongst all of this general marvellousness, we are also treated to some lovely comedy moments involving Hiro and Ando (Mr. African Isaac is first and foremost), Maya’s potential exit from the show (am I the only one whooping? Sorry…) and, um, Sylar’s frankly ridiculous escape from Level 5. ‘You don’t know what you’re capable of’ and then wham bam, thank you ma’am, I’m out? Hmm. A little too convenient methinks. Shame really, as it’s the only real blot on an otherwise damn fine couple of episodes. Here’s to Hiro’s spirit walk in a couple of weeks…
306: ‘Dying of the Light’: 9.2
Wrs: Chuck Kim & Christopher Zatta; Dr: Daniel Attias
307: ‘Eris Quod Sum’: 8.7
Wr: Jesse Alexander; Dr: Jeannot Szwarc
…and here’s to Mrs McCluskey getting straight up out of her hospital bed, marching back down Wysteria Lane and clonking Dave over the head with that great big baseball bat pronto. What a SOB, eh? Rearranging the items in Karen’s home after having decided to throw her a birthday party, just so that she can appear to have dementia and be going a wee bit senile. Evil, evil, evil. While I was initially sceptical about my potential investment in this season’s ‘mystery’ narrative, I have to hand it to the writers for having turned this old stick in the mud around, yet again, by cooking up some deliciously twisted developments. It certainly helps that the brilliant Kathryn Joosten is getting a substantial slice of the action; she’s gone from being an amusing aside to one of the most loved characters in Desperate Housewives history in the space of a few short seasons and, I have to confess, I was more than a little irked at her departure from our screens at the end of the superb ‘Mirror, Mirror’. I’m sure she’ll be back as soon as she can make a quick escape, but the fact that I spent the last few moments of the episode screaming “no!” at the screen (albeit in my head) certainly says a lot about the quality of both her character and her performance. It made the episode for me and that’s actually saying something: Jeff Greenstein’s script is a wonderful piece of narratalogical craftsmanship, weaving together a series of seemingly disparate plot strands around the collective attendance at a specific locale, and the decision to preview the ultimate outcome in the teaser, and then slowly reveal the build up to it by character, works wonders as a piece of original, and highly entertaining, storytelling. Plus, of course, we are given insight into the events that have led our core housewives to the current situations they find themselves in which, in some cases (notably Bree), is actually quite startling. Excellent stuff then, and certainly the best episode of the season so far. ‘Back in Business’, the previous week’s offering, while not quite up to this standard, is also nicely structured around the theme of the ‘green eyed monster’ and offers up some wonderfully unexpected sequences: particularly the strands involving Orson and Bree, whose marriage is certainly suffering as a result of Mrs Van Der Kamp’s success. While Lynette’s descent into petty jealousy and, indeed, desperation is difficult to watch (I covered my eyes during a great deal of it), it is all the more successful because of it, Gabrielle and Carlos’ decision to teach their child the facts of life results in a number of rather humorous moments and, of course, Susan’s ludicrous attempt to hide her son’s relationship with Jackson from Mike produce the usual round of unfortunate Myer related klutziness. Ultimately, a set of decidedly above average episodes: one excellent, the other rather good. Desperate Housewives is most definitely on something of an upswing.
504: ‘Back in Business’: 8.2
Wrs: John Pardee & Joey Murphy; Dr: Scott Ellis
505: ‘Mirror, Mirror’: 9.0
Wr: Jeff Greenstein; Dr: David Grossman
And South Park is most definitely on something of a crazy, whacked out, most-probably-Mary-Jane-fuelled-spin. Matt and Trey’s latest offering, the two part Cloverfield homage ‘Pandemic’, is so utterly, utterly ridiculous that you just can’t help but be awed by it. The plot, in a nutshell, is as follows: The boys decide to form a Peruvian flute band, as they believe they make a considerable amount of money. The government then bans Peruvian flute bands on the grounds that they are a nuisance. Following this, giant guinea creatures attack cities across America and leave devastation in their wake. The boys are carted off to Peru by the evil head of Homeland Security, as it is only one of them that can save the world from complete destruction. Scathing political commentary? Astute social observation? Um. Pointless tomfoolery. Yeah, that’ll be it. Still, the whole thing is rather amusing, if only because it just gets stupider and stupider with each passing moment. Randy’s incessant use of the camcorder raises a few smirks and it must be noted that the animation/direction of these sequences is pretty darn awesome. Stone and Parker certainly pay their respects to J.J. Abrams’ film in a highly fulfilling fashion. The use of Craig as the central protagonist also makes for a refreshing change, allowing an outsider’s view of Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny’s exploits to be given centre stage (although the joke does wear a little thin after a while… when Eric attests that “no-one likes hanging around people who complain all the time”, I have to confess to being somewhat in agreement with him). The Peruvian flute band element is good for a few giggles too, particularly in the responses of the general public to their performances: “it’s so… cultural” is just the kind of meaningless epithet that you might hear shot in the general direction of the players in Tube stations. On the whole, ‘Pandemic’ certainly isn’t the most meaningful, or indeed the most laugh-out-loud memorable, narrative in South Park’s illustrious twelve year history, but it’s certainly a fun ride. Utter and complete nonsense, then, but enjoyable nonsense all the same.
1210: ‘Pandemic’: 8.3
Wr: Trey Parker; Dr: Trey Parker
1211: ‘Pandemic 2: The Startling’: 8.0
Wr: Trey Parker; Dr: Trey Parker
Next week, I will be reviewing:
Desperate Housewives 506
Prison Break 409
Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles 207
South Park 1212
Which means, no new episodes of:
Heroes
Fringe
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