Mon, September 8, 2008

Traditionally, the first week of fall TV premieres serves as the dumping ground for categorically unworthy shows. Some kind of gentleman's agreement prevents the competing networks from trouncing these duds with interesting counter-programming – presumably they expect the favor will be returned in future seasons when they have some bad shows of their own that would benefit from an uncontested week or two. Hopefully someday someone will break with convention, release an excellent show in the early going, and reap huge rewards. When Crimson Tide opened in May of 1995, they said it couldn't be done – the summer movie season starts in June! But it was a hit, and finished in the year's top ten. So clearly They were wrong. (And so was Gene Hackman. About the Lipizzaners.)

This year, they're wrong again – but it's a different They. This They thinks what's missing from legal drama is absurd breaks with logic and steamy sexual intrigue. And that the relevance of Beverly Hills 90210 has somehow increased over the last 18 years, as its fictionalized and exaggerated version of high school drama has been realized and surpassed by reality (and reality shows). And someone – possibly on a dare – has convinced Them that audiences wanted to see The Sopranos on motorcycles.

Raising the Bar

TNT, Mondays at 10:00

There's certainly room for sexual intrigue and absurd breaks from reality in legal shows. Boston Legal revels in this territory – but it's entertaining. Doing the same material yet somehow taking yourself seriously is a recipe for disaster. Even L.A. Law had a smarmy, tongue-in-cheek quality to it. Raising the Bar splits its time between earnestly decrying the flaws in the American justice system (for the 947th time) and indulging in secret love affairs. It pleads to be taken seriously but wants to have its wild Desperate Housewives side as well. The mix is not a successful one.

However, if you enjoy unchallenging drama but also have a soft spot for delicious puns, then this is the show for you. You see, because the Bar Association is something that attorneys belong to, and yet "raising the bar" is also a phrase that people have heard of, despite the fact that none of these characters ever mentions raising a bar or does anything that might be described as raising the bar. (The show might be more aptly puntitled "Meeting at the Bar," which is something the characters do, or "Lowering the Bar," as it relates to reducing television's threshold for plausible story or coherent dialogue.) In the pilot (presented commercial-free, but mercifully not stretched beyond 44 minutes), Mark-Paul Gosselaar (TV's Zack Morris) plays a public defender representing a man falsely accused of rape. Jane Kaczmarek (Mom to Malcolm in the Middle) plays a power-mad judge who deprives the accused of any chance at a fair trial, then exacts revenge when he's miraculously acquitted anyway. As you might predict, Gosselaar confronts her, and Kaczmarek jails him with a contempt citation. That situation continues in like fashion until her clerk Charlie (who graduated in Gosselaar's law school class and is secretly her lover – yet, even more secretly, gay) convinces her that the politically expedient thing to do is release Gosselaar and his client. At the same time, the young Assistant D.A. who opposes Gosselaar fights her conscience about pursuing a man she believes to be innocent, fights off sexual advances from her boss, and ultimately surprises no one by revealing in the show's closing moments that she's sleeping with Gosselaar and looks great naked.

As edgy as it tries to be (the girlfriend turns the tables on her boss's inappropriate comments, straddling him and calling his bluff) the show mainly follows well-trodden paths. Even the gay bar Charlie visits to unwind after pretending to make out with Kaczmarek is your typical neon-lit cave filled with pulsing house music and spiky-haired guys in tank tops. More regrettably, Raising the Bar perpetuates a television epidemic in which "rapist" now serves the same purpose that "communist" did during the Sean Connery Bond era: to telegraph instantly that a character is despicable and beyond redemption. It's to a point where CSI will often have two or even three rapists per episode – whenever anything bad happens, it's a rapist that did it! Besides being stupefyingly unoriginal – and, in a small way, taking the edge off rape – this makes for bad drama because a show like this needs shades of grey in order to be compelling. When the actual rapist is brought forth, it's a celebration: the defendant is a hero after all (despite his prior convictions); the real rapist is justly punished. Other conflicts are just as unambiguous. With a villain as arch-evil as Kaczmarek and a hero as pure-hearted as Gosselaar, the audience has no trouble knowing who to root for – but why? Even the girlfriend/opponent agrees with Gosselaar and puts her job on the line to free his client. Admirable, yes, but where's the drama? If we rooted for him in spite of his flaws, or if he and the girlfriend sparred in such a way that neither of them was entirely right or wrong, it would give us something to think about. As it is, there's little room for Raising the Bar to demystify the justice system, since Law & Order has been dissecting it three times a week for years. And the contrived interpersonal drama makes it seem like the writers don't believe in the strength of their legal stories. A lack of faith which turns out to be justified.

90210

CW, Tuesdays at 8:00

It's difficult to formulate a response to 90210, which – for the coma patients among you – is a remake of the '90s teen soap phenomenon about rich, entitled high school students in tony Beverly Hills. Among its target demographic, 90210 will likely be plenty successful. Evaluating the show's structure, that demographic is apparently aged 13 or under and is assumed to be multi-tasking: texting, instant-messaging, talking on the phone, applying makeup, maybe even doing homework – but definitely not watching attentively. Characters on the show blurt things out rapidly, wasting no time getting to the point of whatever conflict ails them at any specific moment. And, once raised, any situation is confronted, reversed, and resolved within three minutes flat.

Our hero is Annie, a native of Wichita, Kansas (that's TV-speak for "the middle of nowhere") who's moving to Beverly Hills with her family because her alcoholic grandmother (Jessica Walter, channeling a defanged but sparkling Lucille Bluth) needs supervision and her father has accepted the job of Principal at West Beverly High. Annie's brother is Dixon, an adopted black dude – which is cool although it's hard to shake the sense that he represents little more than a cynical play for diversity points. (Get the man a pink shirt with an orange T on it.) Should you happen to be a fan of plausibility, 90210 lets you know up front that you're on the wrong channel: the family drives all the way from Kansas in a dusty minivan and the view out the back windshield is completely unobstructed! Anyway, Annie's an A student and remains committed long-distance to her Wichita-based beau. She's got a fantastic relationship with her brother and her dad, she's always smiling and never stressed out, and in many other ways is completely unlike any high school student ever. She encounters Naomi, the show's queen rich bitch, and befriends her because for unexplained reasons Naomi wills it to be so. Before long, it's revealed that Naomi is putting off an overdue book report on the same book Annie wrote an A paper about last year. So Annie credulously loans Naomi her paper "for inspiration," and Naomi swiftly and inevitably turns it in for credit. Cut to the teacher reading the last sentence aloud for the whole class, Annie's mouth wide with shock. Cut to Annie confronting Naomi as they walk through the halls (a typical day at West Beverly is ten minutes of class time and three hours of changing classes). Naomi brushes it off – who's gonna know? Next scene – nine-second interlude in which Annie is promoted from scenic painter to chorus girl in the midst of rehearsing the school musical which is days away from opening night even though school began last week – then guess whose dad walks in, scowling, paper in hand? Annie's dad, of course. The new principal. Check the stopwatch: three minutes flat.

Same goes for Naomi's break-up with Ethan, who's been cheating on her (the much-ballyhooed parking lot blowjob which occurs in the first five minutes): from shocking betrayal to breakup to public humiliation at the hands of the loner girl's blog (there's always a loner girl with a blog – and in this case it's an animated blog with production values to rival Blue's Clues), and on to the jealousy-inducing kiss with Ethan's best friend, the reconciliation dinner, and the final breakup. If you run to the bathroom, you'll miss a pivotal plot point, but fear not: all story lines related to that event will also be resolved and bygone before you return. Credited as a consultant on the show is Rob Thomas, who portrayed high school no more convincingly on Veronica Mars, but at least it was entertaining and it made sense. (Why does anyone care about Annie, the new girl from nowhere? Are they so bored fucking with each other's lives they're desperate for someone new to torture? If so, that's interesting – show that!) Like Raising the Bar, the characters on 90210 lack any perceptible dimension. Sure, they occasionally contradict themselves – Ethan's all over the place about whether he wants to reconcile with Naomi – but the end result is always true to form (and swiftly so). The good guy does the right thing, even if he's tempted astray for three to five minutes. The bitchy girl acts mean; the druggie girl scores a stash; the sullen loner blogs spitefully in a desperate plea for attention. Nobody's motivation is ever bared – they just act and act quickly, for they are like Annie, always smiling and without a care in the world. Just like you were in high school!

Then, strangely, there's a reunion between Kelly and Brenda (Jennie Garth and Shannen Doherty) from the original 90210. Kelly is West Beverly's guidance counselor and Brenda is visiting to help with the school play. The English teacher is hitting on Kelly. All well and good, but does anyone expect that multi-tasking 13-year-old to give a shit about a bunch of grown-ups? Is that what intrigues middle schoolers these days – the secret lives of their teachers?

Sons of Anarchy

FX, Wednesdays at 10:00

Katey Sagal's husband (who previously worked on The Shield) has created a heavily modified Hamlet story in which Sagal, widowed by the co-founder of a Northern California motorcycle club, hooks up with his partner (played by Ron Perlman). Jackson, the surviving son, struggles to find his way within the Sons of Anarchy, a gang which has departed from his father's original wishes and now engages in illegal gun trafficking. Will Jackson challenge Perlman's dominance and reshape the club – or will he become another murderous thug?

Influential in this conflict is his newborn son – born almost a full trimester premature because his junkie ex-wife (Drea de Matteo, of course) can't stop shooting heroin long enough to carry the baby to term. Faced with fatherhood, particularly the responsibility of protecting this vulnerable preemie, he has a new perspective on the head-bashing that goes on at work. Unbeknownst to him, Katey Sagal (in a move more reminiscent of Livia Soprano than Queen Gertrude) is plotting with Perlman to keep Jackson marginalized and continue the profitable gun-running business.

It's impossible to be bored watching Ron Perlman – he carries around one of those character faces that's fascinating in any situation. (Almost any situation – watching him get buzzed and belt out Barry Manilow tunes with a walking squid in Hellboy II was a bit much.) But the show falls short trying to infuse the outlaw lifestyle with a rugged man-as-provider nobility by way of slow-motion highway riding accompanied by hard-charging guitar licks. FX specializes in flawed heroes – and these guys are certainly flawed – but Sons of Anarchy would benefit by focusing more on its action and mayhem and less on internal club politics and family drama. Who wants to watch a five minute SOA boardroom scene? Why convene a situation room meeting to plan revenge against the gang who stole your guns, when you can just jump on the hogs and go knock some heads together? We're told there's history, tradition, and brotherhood in this club – maybe so, but all we see are gravelly voices, recreational pugilism, and an unexplained aversion to shaving or sleeves. If there's a movement afoot contending that any subculture is ripe for exploration in a gritty TV drama, consider this Exhibit A for the opposing view.

***

At press time, HBO's True Blood has not yet aired – look for its review next week. But a review of Fox's Hole in the Wall in no way depends on watching an actual episode...

Hole in the Wall

Fox, Thursdays at 8:00

Of course this show is awesome – it's an import from Japan, where the best game show competitions are born. Contestants strap on a helmet and a riotously unflattering bodysuit, then stand before a giant styrofoam wall with a hole cut in it. The wall moves mechanically toward them and they must fit through the hole or be shoved into a waiting pit of water. Watch the promos if you haven't (on Fox or on fox.com) – the giant black lady who groans "Oh, crap!" as a tricky figure-skater-shaped hole bears down on her is a perfect illustration of the show's ingenious concept. And the result is exactly what you're expecting (and hoping for).

As humiliating Japanese physical competitions go, none can beat Ninja Warrior on G4. It's intense, compelling, and hilarious – it turns out it's even more fun without the corny dubbed-in commentary of Spike TV's MXC – and it's featured competitors as storied as America's own Olympic twins, Paul and Morgan Hamm. But not even Fox can boast liability lawyers fearless enough to import Ninja Warrior. As a consolation prize, Hole in the Wall is still a great concept, dead simple and packed with potential. Plus they've got Brooke Burns hosting – if she could make Dog Eat Dog borderline watchable, she'll have no trouble with this. Check it out Thursday at 9:30 after Fringe if you missed Sunday's "Special Preview" (or, if you prefer, "premiere").

Premiering This Week

Fringe: Fox, Tuesday at 8:00
Privileged: CW, Tuesday at 9:00
Do Not Disturb: Fox, Wednesday at 9:30

Returning This Week

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: Fox, Monday at 8:00

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