Deadly Furniture

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides is a fantastically boring disaster of a movie that will leave even the most devoted of fans (read: me) considering fleeing the theater rather than sleep through…err….watch the rest of the film. I know. Harsh. But it really is that bad. Twenty minutes in I was wondering how much longer this thing was going to drag on and, although I was pretty sure that there would be an ending scene after the credits, I fled rather than put up with Hans Zimmer for one more second. Let’s start with the new characters. Taking the lead is Penelope Cruz as Angelica who, well, exists solely to be a love interest for Jack Sparrow. She’s the daughter of Blackbeard (Ian McShane) whose pretty evil and, on top of all his evilness, has stolen the Black Pearl. On Blackbeard’s ship is a missionary whose name, IMDB has just informed me, is Philip (Sam Claflin). He eventually falls for a mermaid he names Syrena (Astrid Berges-Frisbey) and it‘s all crazy and open-ended. Philip is there because Will is off dealing with dead people and Syrena is there because Elizabeth is waiting for a green flash of light.

The thing about new character/enemies/young attractive people is that they have to be in some way likable/useful. I know a lot of people are down on Will and Elizabeth, but everyone can at least admit this: they had interesting moments and their characters created interesting moments for other characters. Jack’s friendship with the couple made him the person that he is by the time On Stranger Tide comes in. However, this movie’s new characters mainly seem to be part of some bizarre side-show to the main events. Philip and Syrena as people and characters barely affect Jack and Angelica doesn’t bring any of the passion or intensity that Elizabeth and Jack had. Blackbeard, for all his creepy powers, pales in comparison to our good friend Davy Jones. Jack never acts really afraid of him, so why should we?

No, the only moment when the movie shines is when it remembers its roots. An opening sword fighting scene reminiscent of Will and Jack’s first meeting makes you remember better days. There’s also a moment when Geoffrey Rush and Johnny Depp are actually allowed to act. By now, Depp is so comfortable playing Sparrow that it becomes glaringly obvious. He just needs to say :”savvy“ once in a while and we‘re all supposed to call it good. But there’s this moment when Barbossa describes losing the Black Pearl to Blackbeard and you smile--because this is a good moment. This is a moment when two captains share their love for a ship and connect as old mates. This is a moment where we can tell that Rush and Depp are high-caliber actors. But of course that moment passes and we’re back to overly-ridiculous escape plans and over-used gags because our smile even has a chance to fade.

Without the characters, the plot quickly loses control and as the action shifts from setting to setting, from sunny weather to foggy weather, from one character to another, from this bizarre directorial decision to that horrific musical choice, I quickly stopped caring. Because at least two more sequels are already in the works, I was pretty sure Jack was going to make it and I was equally as sure that Jack Davenport wasn’t going to rise from the dead, Orlando Bloom wasn’t going to arrive on his cool new ship, and Elizabeth and her son weren’t going to stop by to say hello. And you know what? I was predictably right.

Will I give the next one a chance? Probably. Remember, I’m a fan. Or I was. Now, however, I’ll have to add a caveat to it. Just like with Indiana Jones. “Well, I’m a fan of the first three.”

Last season, Elizabeth and I probably watched one or two new pilots altogether. I don’t know if just nothing sounded very interesting or if we were too invested in old television shows to bother with new ones, but whatever the case I’m pretty sure we watched the pilot of The Event (that turned out well) and then called everything else a bust. (To be fair, we picked up Parks & Recreation which was perhaps the best move we have made in the history of our television watching). This year promises to be different--or at least that’s what the networks have promised me and they have bombarded the internets with clips, enticing spoilers, and previews to make me root for their shows.

Take, for example, Charlies Angels. Because Wonder Woman mercifully failed to get a pick-up by NBC, this ABC show will haunt our commercial breaks until the end of time. ABC really wants us all to remember how popular the original show was and those two movies, and also wants us to know that their version is going to be much better. I’m less than optimistic. With so much emphasis being put on the brand and how hot the main characters are, it seems like scripts and interesting/exciting/unexpected storytelling could become second/third/low priority. Will I watch the pilot? Sure. Why not? Do I expect to be watching much more? Nah.

This season is also the season of “pairs.” NBC and ABC are both putting up fairy-tale shows and period shows and it promises to all end in an epic showdown that the press will make a huge deal of and then we’ll all forget about in a year or two. ABC has Once Upon A Time, the story of what happens when fairy-tale characters have to survive in the real world. NBC has Grimm, the story of a police officer, last name Grimm, who realizes that he’s one of the few people who can see that the world is populated by evil fairy-tale characters. Having seen clips for both of them, and had the entire first episode of Grimm spoiled in the process (thanks NBC), I can’t say that I’m impressed by either. Sure, it may have something to do with the very sub-par special effects that grace the opening of Once Upon A Time, or it may be that Grimm looks sorta boring. However, I’m pretty sure it’s that both of these got picked up, and Ron Moore’s promising magic-themed pilot (with three, THREE Battlestar Galactica veterans) failed to get a pick-up. I mean, how could either of these even hope to compare?

Since it’s been announced that Mad Men is off our screens for what seems like eleven years (WHY!?!?! WHY?!?!?!) NBC and ABC are hoping to capitalize on AMC’s loss by giving us The Playboy Club and Pan Am. They’re both what you would expect from their titles and I can already tell that I’ll watch both of their pilots. That being said, I’m pretty sure only one of these is going to last the season and, because I actually liked the clips of The Playboy Club more than Pan Am, my bets are on Pan Am surviving.

Into the mix of this season’s pilot season then comes the shows that you watch merely for the people that are in them. Michael Emerson’s (of Lost fame) role in CBS’s Person of Interest means that Elizabeth and I will both watch a show that we would never have tuned into anyways, Jason Issacs in the mid-season Awake (he’s a GOOD guy) is going to be great, and Sam Neill and Jorge Garcia in Alcatraz gives us even more reason to watch the sci-fi thriller besides the fact that it’s a sci-fi thriller. And, while we’re talking about sci-fi thrillers, ABC’s mid-season show The River is either going to be great or horrible. Here’s hoping great.

And now, to wrap it all up in a nice and convenient way, a list!

This Year’s Chase: Prime Suspect

This Year’s Obvious Glee Copy-Cat: Smash!

This Year’s Most-Anticipated Mid-Season Show: Awake

This Year’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Ringer

This Year’s Sure-to-Be First Cancellation: Unforgettable (‘cause it’s forgettable. Get it?)

This Year’s O.C: Revenge (now with more Marc Blucas)

This Year’s Rebecca’s Most Anticipated Show: The River

With the plethora of cop/procedural/crime dramas on our television screens, it was only a matter of time before some semi-smart producer realized that there hadn’t been one about U.S Marshals yet. These same semi-smart producers therefore created In Plain Sight, a series that revolves around the life of Mary Shannon (Mary McCormack), a marshal for the Witness Protection Program. As one would expect from such a program, each episode centers on a new, zany witness that needs to be protected/reprimanded/killed or something like that.

The show tries really hard to be different from its half-sisters. For one, it supplants its characters from the usual New York City or Los Angeles gritty, unrealistic city setting and sets it all in New Mexico. It also throws in some family characters that get more screen time then they deserve and, most importantly, creates a female main protagonist that no one in their right mind should be interested in or sympathetic towards. Okay, okay, okay. Maybe that was unfair. But it’s not that far from the truth. In an early episode (I’ll admit to watching five, but that was only out of a curiosity to see if she got any better. She doesn’t.) Mary even admits that her partner Marshall (played by Frederick Weller and the only good part of the entire series) is her one and only friend. Even that friend is looking for another job in order to get away from her (because he, for some unknown reason, likes her. But hey, he’s still trying to get away from her.)

Mary is antagonistic, uninteresting, mean, selfish, inconsistent, uncaring, and a whole lot of other unattractive things, yet we are still supposed to care about what happens to her. This would all be alright if not for the fact that she’s on the screen forty minutes out of every episode. While the interesting Marshall disappears for commercial breaks at a time, our screens are always graced by Mary. Not even a well-rounded character can stay interesting for twenty minutes straight (See M*A*S*H’s “Hawkeye” if you doubt me).

Her family isn’t much better. Although I commend the semi-smart producers for introducing a new element into a tired television style, Mary’s family is more jarring than anything else. Mary’s mother, a drunk who never really got her life together, is there more for the jokes than anything else, and Mary’s sister is there for….for something. Unlike Castle, the family drama never has anything to do with the witness-of-the-week story and so it’s all very disjointed and strange.

USA Network is known for its tagline (“Characters Welcome”) then anything else. For people who want a generally care-free, suspense-less crime procedural, In Plain Sight is a perfect fit. But for anyone who actually wants interesting characters in their television shows, look elsewhere.

Show to Watch: Castle

No, I’m all about the sad comedies. Arrested Development, for example, has everything a traditional comedy would ask for. But it isn’t all happy all the time. There is something sad about every one of its main cast, something essentially broken, and that’s what keeps me interested in the series as a whole-how comedy and brokenness intersect. I’ve mentioned Community every other post here, but the same principal is why I love the show so much. In the end, all of the study group members are terrifically sad. Their lives are uncontrollable disasters, their relationships are constantly are the rocks, and their futures are anything but bright and hopeful. They aren’t friends because they want to be, they’re friends because they’re holding on to each other for dear life, fearing what would happen if they were ever left on their own.

Enter Party Down. It’s a hybrid of a classic comedy and a Community-like comedy--leaning towards the straight-out stuff. The basic plot follows a bunch of actor/writer hopefuls who all work at a party service as they wait for their big breaks. Each of the twenty episodes is another party and another opportunity for the staff to mess up in some fantastically awful way. With this premise in place, the show piles on the jokes and awkward situations all of which I found passable. Don’t get me wrong, Party Down is a funny show and it has some great comedic actors (Jane Lynch for one) and great guest stars that will make you go "Wait...I know them from something.. However, the laughs aren't what really interested me and what kept me watching the series.

No, that was all the sad parts. Although arguably not as obvious as Community, all of Party Down’s principal cast of characters are really, really sad. Take Henry for instance (played by the spectacular Adam Scott who, not so incidentally, is currently in Parks & Recreation which is quickly becoming my favorite comedy in the world). When Henry got his big break in a series of beer commercials (with the hilarious catch-phrase “Are we having fun yet?”) he thought he was set for life. But he’s not. No one hires him and he’s stuck bartending for a catering service. Then, as soon as he gets the girl (Casey played by Lizzy Caplan) and convinces himself and everyone around him to “don’t stop believing” that their dreams will come true, the girl breaks his heart and he accepts a promotion that will effectively end his actor career, and dreams, forever. I mean--this is sad stuff. And that’s why I love it. The show is essentially about what we should do when it appears that our dreams just aren’t going to come true. It’s frank and honest about it, but in the end completely hopeful.

Party Down doesn’t earn a place in my top favorite shows of all time and I doubt that I’ll watch more than a couple of episodes here or there every again. But it’s fun and at times deep and interesting. And, if nothing else, an opportunity to watch some great comedians act.

Episode to Watch: "Steve Gettenberg’s Birthday"

Guys…I used to watch American Idol. And I didn’t just watch the first couple of episodes, or just stop in every now and then to see if Simon had killed Paula yet, no I was there for every step of the excruciatingly long process. Of course, over the years it got more and more excruciating and more and more ridiculous while the talent got less and less impressive. Eventually it was easy to drop it out of my weekly tv schedule.

But thanks to Idol, our television schedules have forever been altered. Now it’s all about the reality shows, the copy-cats, the “We can be just as good as Idol, we promise!” shows. (Aside: do you all know that America’s Got Talent is like, the biggest show of the summer?) Into this mix, NBC offers The Voice. And boy, do they want us to watch it. Banners across our weekly Thursday night comedies, extended promos, sneak peaks, website ads. You cannot escape THE VOICE! So, because I can and because of that small part of me that thought that it might be interesting, I watched the pilot episode. The premise (for the few of you who have not been ruthlessly chased down by it) is as follows:

1) Four famous “coaches” (no mean judges here) each pick contestants to join their teams. TWIST: They have their BACKS turned so, unlike the Evil Idol, looks and age don’t matter here.

B) These contestants have been picked by nameless producers so that they all have at least a little talent. TWIST: No awkward dream-crushing here.

Third) If more than one judge picks a contestant, the contestant gets to pick what team they join. TWIST: That’s cool.

IV) In stage 2, contestants battle until each of the coaches get ride of all but four of their team members. TWIST: ….

Five) Then, America votes for THE VOICE from the final sixteen. TWIST: It IS American Idol after all!

So I watched it and, you know what, it wasn’t that bad. Sure, we are sadly subjected to sob stories to the extreme. It’s all in an effort to make us feel for these people, but when all of the thirty-or-so contestants have some horrible back story, it gets old really fast. Maybe this makes me jaded or cold-hearted, but eventually I just want people to sing. And the whole process lacks any organic feeling that I tend to like in my reality shows. There’s a voice-over for everything and things are edited into a neat, little package. Even contestants reactions seem a little: “Oh, I knew you’d all like me, but I’ll pretend that I’m totally shocked at the moment.” At least we don’t get any of the epic tear-fests that American Idol is all about.

But besides that, the coaches all seem to be nice and have a real but cute competition going on. Besides, I like the premise of these contestants having someone fighting for them and, for the first time in their careers, having a real chance. Behind all the promos, there actually does seem to be something refreshingly original about this show. Will I watch another episode? Nah. I’ve been there, done that, seen it, and heard it with singing competitions. But I felt that I needed to know what all the hype was about. In other words, I watched it. Now you guys don’t have to.

Let’s talk about families. For most of us, we have a mother and a father and a whole lot of siblings (or perhaps just a few) who all love and adore us. Eventually, we’ll all get married and have some pretty cute children and they will have children, etc. etc. etc. It’s all very intact and immediate and regular. Right. I have one of those families and I love those type of families, but I don’t really like watching them on television. Something about family dramas bore me to some angry, unhappy degree and I therefore tend to stay away from them. I blame the fact that I actually like my family (damn you, Schmidts!). Instead, I’m all about the unconventional, we-made-this type of families where show runners throw together a whole lot of lonely people who have no one in the world to turn to besides each other. The current platonic ideal of unconventional family is NBC’s Community. Its cast of characters could not be any more different, but in the end all they have is each other and Jeff’s inspirational speeches to get them through life.

So Cheers, or at least the first five seasons of it, was going to be a winner from the start. In the end, every story plot and twist involves a bunch of people who have found home and family in a Boston bar. For example, when Carla learns that she’s pregnant (for the fifth and not the final time) the bar promises the worried single mother that they will all act as the child‘s father. Or there’s the episode entitled “Thanksgiving Orphans” where all of the principal cast realize that they have no one to spend the holiday with except for each other. When Diane feels left out at the bar, everyone gets together and goes to the opera with her, and when Woody and his girlfriend break-up it’s the people at Cheers that come up with a way to get him through it. You grow used to the family dynamic and that’s why it’s so jarring when Diane leaves.

In the five seasons of Cheers that Sam and Diane exist in, the two leads are more violent towards each other than most sitcoms would ever imagine being. Sure, the “I hate you but actually love you” relationship has been around forever, but at times Sam and Diane really seem to hate each other. Somehow, however, the show runners make it all come off as alright; we fight for the relationship even when nobody else does. The clues of their relationship’s inevitable failure is littered across season five, and I wonder if without prior knowledge of Shelley Long’s soon-to-be permanent absence, I would have been able to guess that the season finale. I mean, John Cleese himself tells the couple that it ain’t going to happen and I always listen to my John Cleese.

This is all to say that the show is at its best when it is the most subtle. Sam’s quiet awe at the beauty of the painting at the end of season two. Diane’s look of regret when she realizes that she’ll never be a dancer. Or the fact that the end of Sam and Diane doesn’t come with a violent nose war, a long fight about their respective pasts, or even fears that they aren’t ready. Instead, it ends with Diane blindly believing six months won’t ruin them and Sam letting her go, knowing that they will. The relationship ends as it finally grows up-Sam has finally learned what it means to sacrifice something you want for someone you love. More than half of the episode is taken up with Sam daydreaming about his possible future with Diane--a future where they have smart and successful children, where the folks at Cheers still come over to say hello, where Woody has taken over the bar as Sam’s heir. It’s a life of no regrets and a whole lot of love. But he knows that it’s a life that isn’t meant to be. So after Diane leaves, not knowing that this is really goodbye, Sam lets himself daydream one, last time. The show ends season five with the haunting image of the joy and happiness of a life that will never be lived and of two people safe in the arms of the soul mate they will never have.

Sam and Diane, especially in the early seasons, tend to hog the screen; however, other characters increasingly (if not temporarily) take the spotlight. Cliff, who was supposed to be a background character, grows into the know-it-all that actually knows nothing. His best moments are when he talks about Florida…over and over and over again. His best friend, Norm, acts the suffering husband who with an impossible and demanding wife but deep down he loves her more than anything in the world. His greatest disappointment is not being able to give her a child. Fraiser eventually stops mourning his break-up at the altar with Diane and becomes one of the guys who sits around drinking beer in the middle of the day (a point his own sitcom supposedly forgets).

Coach’s absence (the actor died during season three) is quickly covered up with Woody, a character that at times seems a younger clone of the old bartender. Woody is the surrogate son none of the main characters have. Thy all in their own ways look out for him and preserve his innocence. As their lives continually fall to piece, the people at Cheers all want to make sure that Woody, at least, can be happy. Coach, for all the appearance of innocence, knows life’s harsh realities. In no point is this more clear than the beginning of season three. Sam has gone off the wagon and once again become “Mayday” Malone to the delight of all of his bar friends--they have the ultimate partier. Only Coach realizes the implications of Sam’s drinking because he’s seen it all before. As everyone else celebrates, the wise fool is the one to take action and help his friend.

Sometimes its easy to forget that Cheers is actually a comedy about a bunch of people that drink a whole lot. Throughout its first five seasons the small family has to deal with break-ups, an attempted murder, the loss of loved ones, homosexuality, racism, motherhood, and alcoholism. It’s actually amazing how many times Sam ends up with a gun pointed at him. However, above these sometimes quite serious undertones is some fantastic and unique comedy performed by some fantastic actors. With Shelley Long’s departure the entire family dynamic of Cheers changes, who knows if it will be for the better (I’m a little worried), but you know that despite it all the little family at Cheers will still return to the place where they can put all their worries aside and know that everybody knows their name.