Somewhere

The Week In TV 29/01/2012

30 Rock, Season 6, Episodes 3-4: Idiots Are People Three and The Ballad of Kenneth Parcell

Is it too soon to suggest that 30 Rock’s sixth season has more life in it than the past two seasons combined?  Probably, and it’s not like this double-header didn’t have its problems, but I’m finding myself looking forward to 30 Rock more than I have for some time.  ”Idiots Are People Three” seemed, at points, to be scenes left on the cutting room floor of the previous episode, but it was helped enormously by an appearance from Devon Banks, who’s trying to get his “gay-bies” into an exclusive pre-school, and a Liz Lemon relationship that - at least for the time being - might end up in character growth rather than humiliating disaster.  Let’s hope this doesn’t go the same way as Matt Damon’s ill-fated appearance last year.  ”The Ballad of Kenneth Parcell” also looked at a relationship the show has taken for granted recently, with Liz growing resentful of Jenna’s narcissism before realising that she needs someone so vapid as to ignore her depressive ranting.  The full circle nature of this particular storyline has been done to death on pretty much every sitcom out there, but this is also one of 30 Rock’s most inexplicable relationships, so it was nice to see it addressed.  There was plenty this week that didn’t work (Tracy’s subplot in the second episode was pretty dire), but the Garry Marshall-skewering Martin Luther King Day trailer, with a cameo from Emma Stone, was so hilarious as to give a free pass to some of the clunkier stuff that succeeded it.

Alcatraz, Season 1, Episode 3: Kit Nelson

Those of us hoping that Alcatraz would break out of the procedural mould it set itself in during its first two episodes were sorely disappointed this week.  Again, Madsen and Soto are tasked with tracking down another Alcatraz prisoner, this time a child-killer who kidnaps a kid on Friday, returning the dead body to their bedroom by the Sunday.  There’s the potential for something fairly creepy in all this, but the show is so concerned with telling us how creepy and horrible this is, that it ultimately fails to convince.  It doesn’t really help that tacked onto this is a thinly-sketched back story to Soto, who was also kidnapped when he was younger, and so is really “relating” to the case.  This particular kind of episodic television, where the case-of-the-week reflects what its principal characters are going through at a given point in time, are commonplace, of course, but we don’t know enough about Soto for this to really stick.  Sure, we get a couple of sweet moments towards the end where Soto can’t quite bring himself to talk about his own trauma, but it felt too much like teasing and, worse, like the deliberate withholding of information to create a wider sense of mystery that the show just hasn’t earned yet.  So, although Sarah Jones and Jorge Garcia have built up a decent rapport by Episode 3, this alone won’t be enough to circumnavigate the already large plot holes the show is building into its central mythology.   For instance, why do all the Alcatraz prisoners immediately carry out the same crimes on the outside world?  How have they integrated into twenty-first-century life?  Alcatraz needs to show things from a different perspective to that of the detectives at its centre if it’s not going to be penned in by these questions.  Three episodes in, and it’s already beginning to feel repetitive, with a final twist that’s almost identical to last week’s.  Hopefully there’s more here (and the pedigree of its producer suggests this could well be the case), but at the moment it’s pretty uninspiring.

Fringe, Season 4, Episode 10: Forced Perspective

A standalone episode of Fringe allows us to take some time off from debating about the direction the show has taken in what may very well be its last season.  ”Forced Perspective” was a standalone episode very much in the mould of Season 1, in that it was effective, but not really up to par with what we’ve come to expect from the show.  In a brilliant opener, a teenager, Emily, draws a picture predicting the death of a passer-by.  He dismisses it as a bad joke, only to be skewered by a iron beam on the sidewalk.  Of course, as the Fringe Team become involved, Emily’s ability is of particular interest to Olivia in light of the Observer’s recent premonition about her death.  The first half of the episode is curiously weak, underpinned by dubious science (the “ripple effect” caused by future events that Emily’s brain is receptive to?), predictable family dynamics (Emily’s overprotective father), and a villain with a predictable, one-note motive (he lost his daughter after divorcing his wife).  If these elements felt better handled, it’s possible that the episode as a whole might have worked.  As it stands, it provides very little answers as to the Observer’s prediction, and instead leans heavily on a tense search for a suicide bomber at episode’s end, one which asks some intriguing questions about fate and free will.  Anna Torv, as ever, is able to paper over even the most questionable of dialogue, and here is no exception, her performance one of subtle heartbreak.  But for an episode that was largely treading water, it didn’t quite deliver enough punch.

Gossip Girl, Season 5, Episode 12: Father and the Bride

An entertaining enough episode, with some honestly-felt emotional beats, but if Gossip Girl’s sixth season has demonstrated anything, it’s that this is a show in crisis.  As a longer form story arc, Blair’s impending marriage to Louis (a character we barely know or care about) simply cannot sustain the weight the series is putting on its shoulders.  Making it a focal point of these first twelve episodes is as dramatically inert as last week’s “The End of the Affair?” was dramatically incompetent.  We know that Blair is never going to marry Louis, and the writers still haven’t manufactured a compelling reason as to why the character would have stuck by this decision for so long.  It becomes an even more baffling decision when you realise that the show has actually done a pretty good job in creating a believable dynamic between Blair and Dan, surely a more interesting obstacle to her eventual reunion with Chuck than the increasingly bizarre royal wedding.  There were a few positives to take away from “Father and the Bride,” however, not least Leighton Meester playing drunk, or Béatrice’s boozy bacholerette party plans, but it all ended up feeling fairly inconsequential, just as much of this season has.  Is Serena still planning to take down Gossip Girl?  Is Gossip Girl back for good?  Are we going to have to wait out more storylines involving Nate finding investors for the Spectator?  With all of its characters in limbo, the show finds itself with nowhere to go, struggling to make it to the finish line.

Pan Am, Season 1, Episode 12: New Frontiers

An on-form episode, as Pan Am heads for one of the most defining moments in 60s American history: the assassination of JFK.  After last week’s high stakes affair, Kate is back to brass tacks in the episode’s opening scene, as she’s taught how to pick pockets in order to steal microfilm from an Italian ambassador in Rome.  It’s good, frisky fun that nevertheless maintains a certain amount of tension throughout, and – as is becoming increasingly clear – it’s the one area the writers are able to have the most fun with.  Everything built around this was competent and enjoyable, and – mercifully – there were no outright clangers, but it’s self-evident that Pan Am is unlikely to deliver on either the giddiness of its pilot episode, or the more adventurous storytelling of “Ich Bin Ein Berliner.”  The question of Amanda’s sexuality – ratings bait if ever I saw it – is danced around this week without ever really addressing it, and whilst Maggie’s strained attempts to brush it off were well-played by Ricci (who’s grown into the role a fair amount since her over-emphatic debut), but Ted’s gay panic was entirely overplayed, and Amanda’s suggestion of an open marriage came completely out of the blue.  More entertaining, albeit in a very daft sort of way, was Laura’s journey towards independence when she realises that the nude photos she had taken are being displayed in Greenwich Village – where else? – and that rather than shaming her, they pique the interest of Andy Warhol who, at episode’s end, is preparing to meet Laura as a potential model.  Of a similar school of thought was Collette’s Roman Holiday in reverse storyline, that had her romanced by a prince in disguise as Dean was forced to watch on in anger.  Although I’m not really a fan of the Dean/Collette pairing, he was much more fun to watch this week as Collette and her royal paramour coolly danced rings around his frequent, petulant outbursts.  None of what happened this week is likely to have far-reaching qualities (particularly as the show is on the verge of cancellation), so the appropriately sober ending gave proceedings a different shade as we head past the mid-season, and whilst Mad Men might have cornered the market on this particular moment in history, I’m intrigued as to how it affects our central characters, particularly Maggie, whose troubled face the episode ends on. 

Spartacus: Vengeance, Season 2, Episode 1:

Fans of Spartacus: Blood and Sand have been waiting for even longer than fans of Mad Men for this, the second season of Starz’ surprise hit.  Placed on hiatus after following the illness of its lead, Andy Whitfield, who sadly passed away last year, we were granted a surprisingly fruitful prequel in Gods of the Arena, but this is what we’ve really been waiting for.  The opening episode doesn’t bother itself with back story, which proves something of a blessing and a curse considering how much the structure of the show has changed since we last checked in.  Since the fall of Batiatus’ ludus, Spartacus, Crixus, and their group of renegade gladiators remain hidden beneath the city, a force of some consternation to praetor Gaius Glaber, the man responsible for the death of Spartacus’ wife in Season 1.  It’s exhilarating to leap into the action feet first, but with such a long absence, it takes a while to recalibrate, not only because the lead has been recast, but also because the writers take it as a given that we will recognise Spartacus’ new love interest and Varro’s widow, that we will remember Crixus’ promise to find Naevia, or Ilythia’s complicated past with Lucretia.  There’s a lot to be said for not insulting the audience’s intelligence, but for a show that’s sold almost entirely on its killing and fucking quotient, I’d forgotten just how knotty the plot was.  That said, once I’d gotten my head around what was actually going on, there was a lot to enjoy here.  The tenuous partnership of Spartacus and Crixus, Aurelia spurning Spartacus as she lies dying in his arms, and – especially – the stunning brothel setpiece, an action sequence of such glossy gratuity and fluid direction that it put to shame anything The Walking Dead has thrown at us this past season.  But whilst “Fugitivus” was, for the most part, a roaring (and that really is the right word here) success, there are a few nagging concerns, namely Liam McIntyre, who lacks Whitfield’s light touch that made the action so much fun and the dramatic moments that much more devastating back in Season 1.  He’s got impossibly large shoes to fill here, and he’s credible as both an action man and a former gladiator with a soft heart, but you can’t quite shake the idea that you’re watching a different character, which will – again – take some getting used to.  I’m also not terribly convinced by Lucretia’s return as some sort of Miss Havisham figure, wandering around the ruined ludus, convinced that everything is as it was.  It feels like a particular tough blow to take given how her caustic nature was one of the chief pleasures of both Blood and Sand and Gods of the Arena, but if there’s anyone that can turn her hand to anything it’s Lucy Lawless, so I’m prepared to hold out on this one.

Switched At Birth, Season 1, Episode 14: Le Soeurs d’Estrees

Switched At Birth really do seem committed to this litigation storyline, don’t they?  So far the only real drama the show has managed to wrangle from this particular story is Regina’s understandable reluctance for the Kennishes to proceed given her prior knowledge of the switch, a well the writers have been curiously reticent in returning to.  This week was mostly one of quiet adjustment, and therefore less exciting than what we’ve seen before, as Kathryn continues to assert herself in front of John and – in one of the episode’s most memorable scenes – with Daphne, Bay and Daphne settle into their relationship in an attempt to brush aside any previous antagonism for Emmett’s sake, and Regina realises that Angelo might have more to offer than financial support.  It made for a softer episode than usual, and not all of it worked, but where Switched At Birth has always excelled is in its detailed portrayal of the shifting relationships between its key characters, and it threw up some interesting dilemmas this week.  The least successful story (apart from the imminent court case, which it seems is going to be stretched out to season’s end) was Wilkie and Toby’s video shoot with Simone.  There was some interesting stuff happening on the periphery, namely Wilkie’s interest in Daphne, but the most part all three of three of these characters are too poorly defined to really work when they’re not paired with one of the more well-rounded characters from the ensemble.  If we’d seen more of Simone’s friendship with Daphne and where that’s headed, or knew why Bay dislikes her so intensely, it might have made the stakes a little higher when she made a move on Toby.  As it was, the scene feel kind of flat.  Much more successful was the pairing of Daphne and Bay, who are forced to work alongside each other to raise enough money for Emmett’s fine so that he won’t have to sell his motorcycle.  Rather than have any revelatory moment of sudden acceptance, the show’s depiction of the push and pull between the two girls has been constantly fascinating, and – really – one of the show’s strongest aspects lies in its ability to foster interesting character dynamics from seemingly mundane scenarios.  Hopefully, the peripheral characters will be more fully integrated as the season progresses, because, as it currently stands, the good material is being weighed down by some tiresome plotting elsewhere.

Touch, Season 1, Episode 1: Pilot

There are some show-runners that you’d follow anywhere, like Joss Whedon or Matthew Weiner.  There are some that will always pique your interest in spite of some of their failures, such as JJ Abrams.  Then there are those that you inherently distrust, like Tim Kring, creator of Heroes, the ultimate example of a show that burned brightly for a brief time before falling in on itself.  His new series, Touch, bears many of the hallmarks of the earlier show: story told over a large canvas, cod philosophy, and some pretty effective tugging of the heartstrings.  Kiefer Sutherland plays a character that deliberately feels like the anti-Jack Bauer, a former journalist whose wife died on 9/11 and now looks after his son Jake, who has never spoken a word (naturally, he speaks to the audience) but has an obsession with numbers.  The premise of the show is a nifty one, that everyone we will ever meet and interact with is linked to us by a series of invisible threads, that the universe follows a pattern too complex for most of us to understand, but one which Jake sees and is trying to communicate to his father.  Amongst all of this, there’s an effective, emotional subplot involving an Englishman losing his mobile phone, which is then picked up by a woman working in a call centre, a Japanese prostitute, and a teenager in Kuwait.  It’s this epic-seeming storytelling that drew so many into Heroes, and which worked very well for a short period, but which fell apart somewhere towards the end of its first season.  Judged without these warning signs, Touch delivered a compelling, interesting pilot that might be pat, but which nevertheless hit home more often than you might expect.  But by delivering a show that seems to have so much in common with Heroes, is Kring shooting himself in the foot?  There are certainly some elements of the pilot that make me suspicious, in particular its fondness for leaning on autistic/idiot savant stereotypes in its depiction of Jake, but even in its ambitious/overreaching nature, it’s at least more interesting than Alcatraz as it currently stands.

1. thefunnysideup said: I felt the season opener for 30 rock was weak but it’s really picked up since. So glad. It’s definitely one of the smartest show on air! As for gossip girl, it’s definitely wearing thin. I will admit though, I enjoyed the wedding vow twist!
2. stripyhorse23 posted this