The A.V. Club Television

Top Chef: "Today Show: Rocco DiSpirito"

Thu, 04 Dec 2008 00:53:20 -0500

First off, many thanks to Noel Murray for covering the fake Thanksgiving episode while I was off having actual Thanksgiving in San Francisco, the city where Top Chef started. Between the Swanson and Butterball plugs, and the spit-covered banana s’mores, the episode probably would have put me off my dinner anyway. (Though the Foo Fighters were their usual likable selves in the guest spot.)

This week, alas, we have our first real dud of the season. While I understand and appreciate that the contestants on Top Chef have to twist and contort themselves around challenges that take them out of their comfort zones, tonight’s Elimination Challenge crossed a line for me. It’s one thing to ask them to package an Italian pasta dinner to withstand a Bertolli-like frozen bag treatment—just to name another of gifted shill Rocco DiSpirito’s episodes—but to ask them to yap about it in a two-and-a-half minute live television segment really is a test of another kind. And I don’t think it really has that much to do with cooking.

To wit: I have no doubt that Ben Lyons, the widely reviled co-host of the new-fangled At The Movies without Ebert & Roeper, could perform a whole lot better on television than 95% of the critics I know, including my nervous, stammering ass. Does the ability to articulate his asinine opinions on television make him a good critic? Of course not. Because being good on TV requires a skillset that has nothing to do with critical insight or judgment; in his case, it has more to do with styling gel and perfect teeth and a grooming period at E! Entertainment. If the cameras weren’t rolling, would there be a single person interested in hearing what he has to say about Synecdoche, New York?

So what does it mean when a Top Chef contestant wins the chance to do a segment on the Today show? It means they’re good on television, not that their banal, sub-Rachael Ray beefsteak tomato salad with watermelon is remotely prize-worthy. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s rewind to the beginning…

Noel mentioned last week that the editors did a fine job defying reality TV visual language by obscuring the person doomed to go home. That was definitely not the case tonight: The second line in my notes tonight reads, “Alex allowed to speak. Uh oh.” We hadn’t heard much of anything from Alex in the previous three shows, where he’s coasted more or less in the middle of the pack and hasn’t displayed the Fabio-like colorfulness (or Fabio-like cooking talent, for that matter). Then there’s a sob story about Richard, last week’s victim, leaving him an inspirational note under his pillow; it might as well have been one of Rahm Emanuel’s dead fish wrapped in newspaper.

The Quickfire Challenge brings Rocco DiSpirito back to the show, which isn’t always a bad thing when he’s not promoting something. (Alas, he has a new book, apparently. Rocco has shown a willingness to throw some strong opinions out there and he handled himself well in the face of Anthony Bourdain’s blog beatdown a couple of seasons ago. In any case, the chefs are given the simple assignment of condensing breakfast into an amuse-bouche, which Padma reminds us is a “single bite,” in the dim hope that someone won’t reproduce Clay’s hollowed-out apple monstrosity from the first episode of Season Three. Once again, very few people get the assignment right, like Jeff, who does a pairing of completely different concoctions, or Fabio, who offers a grim espresso shot to wash down his sickly sweet banana brulée. Unsurprisingly, sophisticated chefs like Stefan and Leah fare best, because they know how to present a small, refined taste without going overboard. And Leah, who’s emerging as a strong spoiler to the Europeans, takes the prize.

But here’s the thing about Stefan and Leah: They suck on television, so the best they can do is survive the Elimination Challenge and live to see another day. Doesn’t say a thing about them as chefs, other than the need for some training if they want to be the next Mario Batali or Emeril. The parameters of the TV challenge calls on them to be able to give a two-and-a-half minute cooking presentation that will be accessible to the folks at home. That both liberates them to do whatever they want and limits them to ingredients and flavor combinations that easily reproduced by non-chefs. What does it say about the challenge that the winners don’t produce a single memorable dish? Jeff, Ariane, and Fabio are all good in front of the camera, but there’s no real payoff to their victory. They have to wake up in the middle of the night, recreate their dishes for the sophisticated palettes of Kathie Lee Gifford and Meredith Vieira, and then watch the hosts judge them without getting to appear before millions. (Granted, Top Chef didn’t want to spoil its upcoming season, but it nonetheless felt anticlimactic.)

So Ariane wins for her tomato and watermelon dish, and gains some momentum after whipping up a tender Thanksgiving turkey last week, but I think it’s obvious she’ll be back on the chopping block the next time she’s taken out of her cooking-for-the-family comfort zone. Jaime, with her uncooked eggs, and Melissa, with her inedible habanero shrimp, join Alex in the losing trio, but it’s clear from the start who’s going home. Any casual viewer of Top Chef knows that making dessert is a mistake, but Alex takes it to the next level by choosing a dessert that cannot be made within the one-hour time period (Rocco seems stunned by his mathematical shortcomings) and probably cannot be reproduced at home. So it’s goodbye chaff.

Grade: C+

Stray observations:

• Juvenile snicker #1: Jeff cooks for a place called the Dilido Beach Club.

• Juvenile snicker #2: Rocco says, “Nothing makes me happier than tools.”

• Thank goodness Daniel wasn’t rewarded for his interpretation of TV show mugging, though it’s a little sad that he seems to aspire to be a celebrity chef in the Bobby Flay mold more than the others.

• Hosea and Leah, sitting in a tree.

Friday Night Lights: "Game Of The Week"

Wed, 03 Dec 2008 22:52:00 -0500

First things first, my DVR messed up and didn’t group this episode in with my season pass, which seems to be a common complaint. So I hopped in on the credits, apparently missing Billy breaking up with his fiancée and Coach Eric being hard on Saracen. (Or at least that’s what I pieced together.) I’m taping the rerun on Friday and will post an update to this entry at the end.So, men, huh? What are they good for? This week we had three break-ups and three attempts at reconciliations. One, Cash, deservedly got left in the dust (literally). Another, Billy, got taken back, almost assuredly undeservedly. The third, Tim, screws up royally and then works his way back into Lyla’s good graces by becoming the first Riggins to go to college. Actually “work” might be too strong a word for it. With a less persistent recruiter he probably would have been perfectly happy to let any college plans drift and found another way to get Lyla to take him back. Or would he? My sense is that Tim knows Lyla’s the best thing in his life right now but this episode found him acting as self-destructive as we’ve ever seen him. If he didn’t have people pulling for him, where would he be? He’d probably turn into Billy, and not all that slowly, but does he know that? (On the other hand, it did occur to me that his gift for binge drinking will give him a leg up on other college freshmen next year.)As for Billy and his on-again/off-again fiancée Mindy, while they largely seem to be there to provide a contrast for Tim and Lyla, as usual, the show gives both characters a little more depth. Lyla and Mindy get a memorable girls’-night-in to regroup after their break-ups and we get another peak at the whole break-up-to-make-up lifestyle that seems to be part of the Collette family women’s genetic make-up. It even has a soundtrack all its own.Of course, if anyone looks destined to break out of that lifestyle, it’s Tyra, who this week makes a seemingly definitive split with the we-knew-he-was-no-good-all-along radio star Cash. He’s not just a boozer, a pill-popper, and a womanizer, he’s also a degenerate gambler, which proves to be the last straw for Tyra. She’s out of there, even if it means a late-night call that disrupts Coach and Tami’s getaway at Dillon’s most romantic motel, fancy robes and all. (A side note: How many times have we seen Coach watch his amorous evenings go down in flames?)Oh yeah. There was also football. The Panthers make the play-offs and the show smartly doesn’t try to pump up the drama about this too much since a play-off run was pretty much a given this season. Instead it provides an opportunity for Matt to make his debut as a wide receiver and for the show to address the tension between Matt’s mother and grandmother, which is well played but gets resolved rather easily, for at least this episode.And as for this episode: It felt like another solid outing in a season that’s been solid with outbursts of greatness. Now that the playoffs are here, it might be time to kick things into high gear.Grade: BStray Observations:- Adventures in moonlighting #1: Looks like Aimee Teegarden will be on 90210. Yay?- Adventures in moonlighting #2: Has everyone seen Taylor Kitsch in his Gambit costume for the Wolverine movie yet?

Pushing Daisies: "Comfort Food"

Wed, 03 Dec 2008 22:07:34 -0500

So, do you think if enough of us got together, put on our little pie-shaped hats, and stormed the ABC offices bearing lemon icebox pie and belting out old Bangles hits that the network might be convinced to let Kristen Chenoweth continue to do… something… anything in prime time, even once Daisies is done? I do believe I could watch that little sprite give the weather report and be absolutely delighted, but tonight she was far and away the most stupendous part of this particularly stupendous episode.

There were a couple of gasp-worthy moments in terms of the major plotlines tonight, but let’s get this out of the way first: The murder mystery was lacking. Cute, yes, and a brilliant display of costuming, set design, and makeup—chicken-fried face will haunt my dreams tonight—but not nearly as twisty as usual. The two characters who basically screamed “I did it!” from their first appearance on screen—the duplicitous muffin fiend and the overly enthusiastic, scooter-bound bake-off organizer—did, in fact, do it, “it” being oven sabotage and murderous revenge via deep-fat-bath, respectively. Neither had a particularly interesting or complex motive or plot, but provided just enough whodunit juju to keep Ned and Olive busy while Chuck was busy sending everything straight to hell.

As for that: Hearing Chuck utter “Hi daddy,” I couldn’t decide which would be more appalling, that she was keeping his dead-again body around for funsies—proving once and for all that she is totally insane, and not just in the cute way—or that she knowingly sacrificed someone else’s life so she could stroll down memory lane with his rotting, reanimated corpse. Of course, it turns out she made the right decision in helping dead old dad avoid Ned’s fatal touch, as her sneakiness was the only thing keeping her from being murdered a second time, this time by the lurking Dwight. That put a nice, unexpected bow on that little dilemma—though Vivian’s distress is heartbreaking, and might prove to be a problem for Lily—but doesn’t change the fact that oh-my-God-Chuck-you’re-insane.

And that’s a good thing! I’ve long considered Chuck to be the weak link on this show—which is totally relative, being that she’s actually quite enjoyable, just not AS enjoyable as the rest—but this season has really added some interesting new layers to both her personality and her relationship with Ned. Last season it was too much about the cutesy mannerisms and sad eyes—the flakey crust, if you will. But now the girl’s got some hearty filling, what with all the grave robbing and sneaking around behind Ned’s back.

Of course, Chuck being Chuck, she immediately feels remorseful and goes to Emerson to help her tidy up her mess, which he agrees to do even though it was just “friend help” and not “pay help.” I have to admit, gullible fool that I am, as the two of them discussed the possible victims of Chuck’s little stunt that might have been in the cemetery at the time, I literally gasped, “Not Lily!” And of course, it wasn’t Lily, but she was there too, once again wielding an incredibly large shotgun, aiming to do to Dwight on purpose exactly what Ned and Chuck did to him by accident. So the fates aligned, and now Dwight is seemingly out of the picture, buried under six feet of dirt and the buttload of dignity Emerson sprinkled on top.

But really, who cares, because OLIVE SANG AGAIN! And it was lovely and heartbreaking and perfect, as Olive usually is. Even though the Ned-Chuck pairing has grown on me more over time—their plastic-wrap snuggling apparatus was both adorable and practical—I can’t help but root for poor underdog Olive. Especially when she’s trash-talking the muffin lady, hate-baking, and, my personal favorite, creating a distraction. (“My eyes are bleeding!”) Can we get Raul Esparza back up in here to give the woman a little romantic relief? And maybe a duet?

Grade: A

Stray observations:

• Before you Wonderfalls fans explode, yes, that was the crossover you’ve been waiting for, with Beth Grant reprising her role as Marianne Marie Beetle from an episode of the dearly departed show. (Entitled “Muffin Buffalo,” of course.) I still haven’t seen the show, so I can’t say how wonderful or perfect it was, but I assume it was very wonderful and very perfect.

• Lily should always be wearing knee-high boots and holding a gun. It just looks right, like she's a sassy pirate or something.

• In the Pushing Daisies universe, every restaurant proprietor must provide a cute theme and matching costumes. My favorite: Rest In Pizza.

• Hey, the Waffle Nazi is Jimmy Barrett!

• “Here lies Dwight, here lies his gun. He was a bad man, and now he’s done.”

• Anyone want to bet how quickly Ned will forgive Chuck for deceiving him and hiding her dad in his abandoned old house? I’m gonna go with three minutes, give or take a moony-eyed glance and adorable quip.

Other Shows: Spectacle: Elvis Costello With...: "Elton John"

Wed, 03 Dec 2008 08:16:18 -0500

I’ve been a fan of Elvis Costello ever since I found a copy of This Year’s Model in the “Nice Price” bin when I was 14. My first three years of Costello fandom happened in a big rush: I'd buy a new album out of the budget rack roughly every month, and read whatever I could find about Costello in rock history books and old issues of Rolling Stone, and eventually I even got to see Costello live with Nick Lowe at Vanderbilt University, in 1987. Through it all, despite some flashes of brightness like the “Everyday I Write The Book” video and his stage banter at the Vandy show, I had a vision in my head of Costello as an angry man, fueled by alcohol and spite. In the years since—really starting with the Spike album, some of which Costello previewed at Vanderbilt—Costello has seemed much more like a gracious, gregarious old-school entertainer. The old darkness may still be there (it does come out in his songs at times), but in public, Costello has become the kind of happy-go-lucky dude who jokes around with Stephen Colbert and David Letterman and collaborates with everyone from Burt Bacharach to Bruce Springsteen. To the disgruntlement of some fans who prefer the edgier Costello, he’s become something of an institution.

It’s that institutionalized Costello who now shows up as the host of a new limited series talk show on The Sundance Channel. Starting tonight and for the next twelve Wednesdays at 9:00 p.m. eastern, Costello sits down with rock legends, troubadours, pop stars, country veterans, jazz heroes, soul men and one ex-president. First up: Elton John, who’s also Spectacle’s executive producer. After an opening in which Costello sings “Border Song” with Allen Toussaint, Elvis and Elton sit and chat about music, sharing their mutual affection for the likes of Lauro Nyro, Rufus Wainwright and David Ackles. Later, the two duet on Ackles’ “Down River,” a little-known song that they render beautifully.

There’s something appealing about the idea of two famous musicians speaking collegially, and that's especially true in the case of a veteran superstar like Elton John, who reminisces here about his modest early days backing R&B legends when they toured the UK, and palling around with Leon Russell. John also reveals the influence of The Band and Van Morrison on Tumbleweed Connection, and admits that he always got a little thrill when he heard one of his songs covered by a legend like Frank Sinatra or Ray Charles.

But here’s the question: Does the obvious camaraderie of these two men make Elton cooler, or Elvis less so? The answer, of course, is that Costello stopped being “cool” a long time ago. That the man who once personified New Wave anti-authoritarianism can now converse so comfortably and publicly with the man who once personified ‘70s AM commercialism only proves that both men are working musicians first and foremost, and as such have outlasted whatever they used to represent. There’s something appealing about that, too. And when Costello and John explain to each other why they changed their names for show business—with the former Declan McManus saying that his real name would’ve led audiences to expect “a guy in cable-knit sweaters singing whaling songs”—it's humanizing in a way that their original stage personae rarely were.

Grade: A-

Stray observations:

-I’ve taken a look at the three upcoming episodes: one with Lou Reed and Julian Schnabel (airing 12/10); one with Bill Clinton (12/17); and one with Tony Bennett (12/31). The Reed/Schnabel episode is pretty scattered, given both subjects' legendary elusiveness, and the duet between Reed and Costello on “Perfect Day” is kind of rough, but both subjects wind their way around to a few revealing anecdotes, and Reed and Costello’s climactic duet on the fairly obscure Reed song “Set The Twilight Reeling” is flat-out amazing. The Clinton episode is far more fluid, with the ex-president speaking knowledgeably about jazz saxophone and making some compelling comparisons between music and political speeches. The Bennett episode serves up a charming 50 minutes of anecdotes, peppered with heartfelt appreciations of the veteran crooner’s favorite songwriters and musicians, and punctuated by some winning, low-key performances. Each episode is pretty different; all are rewarding.

-For the record, here are the rest of Costello’s upcoming guests: James Taylor (12/24); The Police (1/7); Rufus Wainwright (1/14); Kris Kristofferson, Roseanne Cash, Norah Jones and John Mellencamp (1/21), Renée Fleming (1/28); Herbie Hancock (2/4); She & Him, Jenny Lewis and Jakob Dylan (2/11); Diana Krall (2/18); and Smokey Robinson (2/25).

-Spectacle is shot in front of a live audience, which doesn’t really add much. If anything, I think the spectators may make the interviewees more self-conscious, as well as giving the editors pointless crowd shots to cut to. I can see the advantage when it comes to the live performances, and it’s possible that being aware of an audience keeps the answers more on-point, but while watching Spectactle, I kept thinking about another Elvis-led interview show: TCM’s Under The Influence, hosted by critic Elvis Mitchell. I’m not sure that Mitchell is all that great as an interviewer, but somehow, with the most innocuous questions, he gets thoughtful answers about influences and favorites from the likes of Bill Murray, Ed Norton and Joan Allen... perhaps because they're speaking to him alone, and not a bunch of onlookers. For interview quality, I prefer Under The Influence, but for overall entertainment value, Costello has the edge.

-Elvis Costello is an ugly, ugly man.

Fringe: "Safe"

Wed, 03 Dec 2008 00:10:07 -0500

Hey, gang—Noel is out being a movie critic somewhere (thinks he's all special with his screenings and his Best of lists and everything), so you're stuck with me as a guest reviewer tonight. Sorry about the late posting; between this and House, I am currently cursing my inability to halt the flow of time.

Nobody stops time in "Safe," but given Walter's proclivities, and the seemingly limitless ambitions of the people operating in and around the Pattern, I wouldn't be surprised if that came up eventually. This is a mythology episode to the bone; we get return appearances by Mr. Jones (aka, Creepy German Guy), the heartless Mr. Loeb, and more of Olivia and her gradual assimilation of John Scott's memories. That last bit turns out to be particularly important; by the end, everybody wants a crack at what's inside Olivia's head, and it's doubtful that the ones who finally nab her care much about keeping that "crack" metaphorical.

Getting ahead of myself, though. I'm not sure you'd call it a Freak-Meet (delightful phrase), but tonight's cold open was quite good, with Loeb and company breaking into the Pennsylvania Mutual Savings Bank with the help of that phasing machine Loeb perfected earlier in the season. Well, not quite perfected; it throws off surprising amounts of radiation, and once running, it only keeps a wall passable for a limited amount of time, which one of Loeb's crew learns to his misfortune. Loeb manages to get what they came for—a safe deposit box—but they leave a man behind; poor Raul Lugo, stuck mid-phase with a bullet in his head.

(Interesting that he survived long enough to need the bullet. Would he've died on his own without the headshot? Given what we know about Loeb, he doesn't seem like the mercy-killing kind.)

Olivia, Peter, and Walter get the call to investigate, and there's the usual banter: Walter is odd, Peter is sarcastic, and Olivia is practical. In the middle of chit-chat, Olivia IDs the corpse as someone she was in the Marines with; but when she takes the next step of tracking down the guy's widow, she finds that it wasn't her who knew Raul, but John Scott. Which has got to be a little disconcerting; John's been intruding on her consciousness for a while, but this is the first time he's gotten dug in deep enough for Olivia to mistake his memories for her own. Even Walter's perplexed.

The Mr. Wizard sessions this week are limited to Walter's demonstration on the science behind phasing; using an electric football game, a glass of rice, and a toy figure, he shows how by vibrating a seemingly solid substance (ie, the rice), that substance can be rearranged to allow an object to pass through. (I spent most of the hour trying to figure out how to work a Kitty Pryde joke in here, but I got nothing.) Interestingly, the investigations into how Loeb and his crew broke in to the bank are eventually thrown over for the more important question of what it was they took—the boxes were purchased 23 years ago, paid for in cash, with no way to trace their original owner. Given that Loeb was willing to spend as long as he did just to work out a way to steal those boxes, one can't help but be a little curious as to their contents.

The answer, or at least part of it, comes when Olivia and Peter talk a quick trip to a Cambridge bar. There to investigate Lugo—he was apparently a model citizen before he served in the Gulf War, and Olivia would like to know just what pushed him over the edge—the two end up hanging around, doing shots and trying to impress each other with card tricks. We learn Olivia has a head for numbers, and when she recites the numbers of the stolen safety deposit boxes (233, 377, 610), Peter recognizes them as a series that Walter says to himself before he goes to sleep. It's part of the Fibonacci Sequence, but what's really cool is that when they wake Walter up and ask him what it means, it makes Walter realize that the boxes were his.

Fringe is full of what you could call esoteric plotting; it throws out lots of hints, insinuations, and boxes of weird shit, and while it doesn't really explain everything immediately, it strings you long by promising that in time, all will be revealed. It's a tricky game to play, because the longer the tease, the greater the risk that the audience will lose faith. We're only half into the first season here, so trust is high, but it only goes far; one of the best ways to keep people invested is by grounding the story with a personal connection to the main characters. Having Walter be, in a way, the source of the current disturbance suddenly made everything that much more important. It changes the game.

By the end of "Safe," all three leads are tied in. Walter, through his invention of a transporting device designed to bring a doctor from the past to save his dying son; Peter, from his illness (and who wants to bet that suspiciously convenient illness, which lasted long enough to drive Walter to act but cleared up before he could actually test his invention, wasn't entirely natural?); and Olivia from those damn memories. Over at Massive Dynamic, Nina and her team are working to extract information from John's corpse and coming up empty handed—Olivia has what they need. Unfortunately for them (and her), she also has what Mr. Jones is looking for. The bank heists were his doing, and in the boxes, the pieces of Walter's transport machine; Jones makes his escape from prison (after killing his long suffering lawyer) by simply standing in the right corner at the right time, and Loeb already has the prize waiting for him. Olivia's been kidnapped because she knows something; maybe come January, we might be able to find out what.

Grade: A-

Stray Observations:

--I loved the design on Walter's device. It looks like something you'd buy at L.L. Bean.

--Gotta love Walter and Peter out shopping for saws.

--Also, Walter's immediate assumption that Peter and Olivia want the hotel room to hook-up.

--Speaking of, she's pretty good at bar-flirting.

House: "Let Them Eat Cake"

Tue, 02 Dec 2008 22:03:02 -0500

Here's what Noel said back at the end of season 4: "But as always, House is ultimately about House, and how he lives with himself. In a callback to the season-opener’s “go into the light” business, House imagines himself bathed in luminescence, telling the now-dead Amber that there’s no justice if he survives a bus crash and she doesn’t. Is this the prelude to a Season Five where House is chastened and—once again—on the verge of change?"

I think it's safe to say we have our answer; there's plenty of space left in the current season for things to go in a different direction, but as of "Let Them Eat Cake," we have a House who's kinder, gentler, and most surprisingly all, actually capable of growing up. Tonight had another iteration in the on-going Chuddy Adventures, with Cuddy commandeering House's office in light of last week's enforced re-decorating; the two trade pranks with Wilson smirking on the sidelines, until House finally calls the bluff, goes to the object of his affections directly and—kills the moment by groping her boob. Ah, but wait! After much soul-searching, he realizes that maybe his constant self-sabotaging may not be the best way to go about things, and he does something nice for Cuddy; specifically, he gets her old med school desk from out of storage and has it installed in her newly refurbished office. House is willing to take the next step. He's willing to be an adult.

I don't really know how to feel about that.

"Cake" had a decent PoTW—a fitness guru named Emmy collapses while recording a commercial, and the team discovers she had her stomach stapled, which may be the source of her current health woes. With Foreman and 13 largely on the sidelines for Foreman's clinical trials, Kutner and Taub do the usual talking heads routine, with Kutner defending Emmy's sincerity and Taub fixating on her lies. Taub ends up bonding with her; per the usual, the patient interaction is a little too much like debate club rehearsal, and Taub's utter lack of bedside manner seems done more to provoke discussion than for any character based reason. It turns out Emmy is suffering from a hereditary condition called coproporphyria; her liver isn't producing enough of a certain enzyme that even House can't pronounce, and the reason the condition is coming on now is that back before her stomach stapling, she was eating a lot of carbs and sugars—exactly the kind of diet that gets prescribed to coproporphyria. These days, with her ultra-healthy diet, she's not getting enough chocolate cake. Given the choice between getting her surgery removed, or taking medication to moderate her symptoms, Emmy choices the meds, much to Taub's disgust. To which I can only respond, the hell?

We also find out that Kutner's got a side-business going, running a website under House's name that offers second-opinions at discount rates. He pulls Taub in to help, and the whole thing backfires when they get a patient they can't treat; the patient comes into the hospital looking for House, wackiness ensues until the patient, gasp, dies. Remember, though, this is the season of zero consequences—it's all a con by House to teach the boys a valuable lesson, and so he can get his own cut of the action.

And over in plot D, 13 is struggling with the Huntington's trials; some of the patients are in the advanced stages of the disease, and it gives 13 some bad flashbacks to her mom. Nice to see some actually testing going on, and just having an "actual" Huntington's sufferer twitching and jerking across the screen threw 13's problems into a better focus than a whole year's worth of moping and sarcasm. I like the relationship developing between Foreman and 13; right now it could develop into a romance, or it could just go on being what it is. It's probably the only interaction on the show right now that isn't painfully predictable.

Ah, but House and Cuddy! Can't forget about them. Cuddy is so charmed by House's desk gift that she decides to forgive the whole boob groping thing and goes immediately to his office to, I dunno, invade his personal space some more. But apparently the writers of Friends decided to pop in for a scene, because before we get our emotional reunion, Cuddy sees House chatting and flirting with the prostitute he hired earlier for his little game with Kutner and Taub. To be continued!

Like I said, I don't know how to feel about this. Whenever House and Cuddy are one-upping each other, it makes sense, but the moment they start getting close, I get bored. It's the Moonlighting dilemma, and if you step back far enough, it's a problem affecting the series as a whole lately; where's the tension? Too much of "Cake" could've been lifted straight from an episode of Scrubs. And that last minute reversal—that's just lazy. You want House and Cuddy together, then either do it, or give us a convincing reason why they won't hook up. Otherwise, stop wasting our time.

Grade: B-

Stray Observations:

--Another thought: if House really does change, what happens to House?

--I still don't really get why Cuddy is suddenly so hot for House. And not a further word about the whole baby thing.

--Ooo, Christmas episode next week. Let the Grinching begin!

Heroes: "The Eclipse, Part 2"

Tue, 02 Dec 2008 00:31:28 -0500

"I think this eclipse showed us exactly who we all are: Desperate, angry…weak."—Papa PetrelliNo shit, Sherlock.…and after a somewhat okay episode last week, things on Heroes are back to the way we're used to: Blunt, blunt, blunt. If less is more, this show is proving the opposite is true. I swear, if Tim Kring cut out half the unnecessary explanatory lines, he'd have enough space to, I dunno, add a few more characters. (Not that he should.) But, here we are, the second worst episode of the season so far, the show suffering under the weight of its own inaction.After hitting the show vs. tell point last week, I'm not sure I have it in me to expound much on "The Eclipse, Part 2." So forgive me for, essentially, the following list of stray observations:The good:- Adrian Pasdar. No matter how stupidly pithy the dialogue or longwinded the diatribe, he invests himself fully into the words. Nathan's quiet, impassioned speech to Peter—about the possibility that heroes can do a lot of good in this world—actually felt like it was being spoken by an honest-to-God three-dimensional character.- The Haitian. Yes, his biggest strength is that he has few lines and rarely emotes (he's a model of Heroes excellence), but I had forgotten about his cool mind-sucking power. The fact that he used it on his own brother sweetened the pot.- Lack of Niki/Jessica (what's her new name again? I forgot…finally), Angela Petrelli and that guy who gets stronger as those around him feel fear, to the point that you might say his strength derives from fear itself. No, the other guy.- Bennett cutting Sylar's throat. Long time coming.The bad:- Everything else Bennett. The fact that he didn't kill Sylar in the last episode, back at the house, defies all logic—he was right there! But I guess he had to go take care of his daughter. Did you know he cares about her? That every thing he ever does, he does to protect her? His little Claire Bear? And as a result he's never around? Because of all the protecting? Claire Bear?- Claire. Once again, I have no idea what the hell is going on with her. She's back on hating her father I guess. But you better believe that's all going to change, when she sees herself as a baby on that one roof.- The Elle and Sylar's pillow talk, which doesn't just happen after they do the deed. It carries throughout: "We're all flawed, powers or no powers." STFU.- The fact that no one dies on this show. Did anyone seriously expect Claire or Sylar to kick the bucket, just when the eclipse was ending? I'm glad they got rid of Elle (or did they?!?), just to do something different.The downright insulting:- Sylar's hunger. It's back, and with it proof that Kring had "Take your misunderstood tween to work day" in the writer's room.- The wholly underutilized Seth Green and Breckin Meyer. (And this coming from a guy who thought Road Trip was, at best, not so bad.) There was some buzz surrounding these geeked-out guest appearance, and what happened? Meyer ate some junk food and Green cajoled 10-year-old Hiro out from the bathroom with a responsibility talk, then told an ominous tale about a mysterious bike messenger (seriously?). At least he explained how 9th Wonders was still putting out issues. Clunkily.- Mohinder. Always Mohinder. When was the last time he did anything that advanced the plot for anyone but himself? Why the obsession with Maya still? And why would she ever answer the door for him?- The terrible attempts at referencing modern verbiage: "Best. Day. Ever." Twice.- The realization inside the comic book shop that Hiro must be traveling to the rooftop soon because he's "wearing the same clothes." We get it!- "But…you're the fastest person…in the world." Do you ever think Kring meant to make a comedy?Grade: D-

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles: "Self Made Man"

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 22:52:25 -0500

I always like to watch the "Previously on" montage that opens each new T:SCC episode. Not for the plot-refresher, although that can come in handy; it's more that the montage gives you a sense of what to expect from the rest of the ep. If we get a lot of clips of Jesse and Derek, we know they'll be doing some damage in the upcoming forty-three minutes; if we see Sarah freaking, we know there's gonna be some more of that in our future; and if we see John and Riley making googly eyes, we know that this would be a good time to play some FreeCell while the TV runs in the background.

"Self-Made Man"'s refresher gave us some quick references to Cameron's chip damage; which is good news, since that means we get another largely Cam-dominated story, with a background assist from John and His Girl Manic. "Man" lacks the emotional weight and uncertainty of "Allison From Palmdale," but it's a solid, un-insulting entry, riding on enough clever ideas to make its lack of big moments significantly less important.

In general, I'm not a huge fan of T:SCC's structural tendency towards multi-storied episodes; for the series where it works (as it did on The Wire--and yes, I've now managed to mention The Wire in all four blogs I write for the TV Club, which fulfills my contractual obligations for this year), it can create a rich, thriving world, a sense of perpetuated existence that continues even beyond the moments we spend with each character. At worst, well, anybody remember the second season of Heroes? Or, honestly, the first? The more plots you try and cover in a single chunk, the easier it is to short change one and over spend another, killing the flow and giving audiences the perpetual sense of moving far too quickly over nothing much at all.

But even at its clunkiest, plot-density provides the writers with a lot of empty spaces. In "Man," we learn that Cameron's been moonlighting over at a college library with a wheelchair bound student named Eric; apart from what it tells us about Cam and her increasingly flexible mission priorities, the info fits in just fine with everything else that's been going on this season. As both Sarah and John point out, Cam never sleeps. Given her growing interest in basically everything, her copious amounts of free time, and the fact that outside sarcasm and the occasional command, there's not much in the way of conversation at the Connor household, it seems inevitable that she'd start up some extra-curricular activities.

These activities comprise the bulk of the episode, as we see Cameron doing her level best to "make friends," a task aided by her physical attractiveness but defeated by her inability to read social cues. In between semi-flirting, she investigates a photograph of a 1920 speakeasy fire after she recognizes a man in the photograph as a T-888 model who she and Eric later identify as Myron Stark. One of the ep's niftiest conceits has Cam and Eric tracking Myron through a variety of media: filmstrip, microfiche, radio news, and a documentary with footage of one of the survivors of the speakeasy fire. Like a lot of things on T:SCC, it's more of an admirable idea than anything with lasting resonance, but it was still fun to watch the mystery unravel.

There is one sub-story going on during all this—John and Riley, together again. It's a bunch of standard teenage angst stuff; Riley gets John out to a party by pretending she wants a ride home, but when he gets there, she convinces him to stick around. (At first I thought we were just seeing one of Riley's lately revealed mood shifts, but while there's some room for argument, the fact that we don't see her getting all depressed again seems to indicate the whole thing was a con.) And wouldn't you know it, John runs afoul of the party host; first he gets tormented because he's a loner, then he has to defend Riley's honor when the host accuses her of stealing his lighter. (Unsurprisingly, Riley actually did swipe the damn thing.) It's a scenario that's been played out in teen soap opera countless times, and it ends about as you'd expect, with John and Riley parked on a hilltop, making out.

Fortunately,, this was a small part of "Man"; mostly, we just got to watch Cam and Eric hunt around for info, and listen to their awkward small talk. The small talk was probably the best part, although it got a little heavy-handed by the end. Cam determines that Eric's cancer has come back, and she tells him this (and her reasons for believing it) without realizing he could get upset—and when he does freak out, he starts going off on how she doesn't know what it's like to have "Something inside you. Something damaged." Given what happened to her processing chip at the start of the season, Cameron knows well-enough.

The Myron mystery has an unexpected twist. Turns out Skynet sent him back in time to assassinate someone, but missed the correct date by a good ninety years. His arrival inadvertently leads to the death of the son of a building magnate, who orders that the site of his son's latest project, Pico Tower, be transformed into a memorial garden. Unfortunately for him, Myron needs that tower around so he can (eventually) complete his mission, so he spends the next five or six years utterly ruining the rich guy's life. It's a cool illustration of the single-minded determination of the machines, and when Cameron puts the pieces together and tracks Myron down to his current hiding spot behind a wall in the Tower, we even get an all right robot fight.

But it's Cameron's emerging personality that has the most promise for future eps. Her continued attempts to connect with people—how much of it's an act, how much of it's real, and whether or not the whole concept of "real" is invalidated by Cameron just being what she is—offer us rare moments when the show isn't struggling under the weight of franchise continuity. "Man" was enjoyable but slight; no heavy-duty emotional component, and the adventures of Myron didn't really connect back to any main threads. But the pacing was good, and just that moment at the end, when Cameron offers donuts to her new "friend" was what the series does best; hopeful and kind of creepy, all at the same time.

Grade: B+

Stray Observations:

--Myron's target is Governor Mark Wyman. Wonder if we'll see more of him?

--Nice how when Myron ran his own company, everyone was well-paid and treated equally; the assumption from the beginning has been that Skynet, and essentially all A.I. free from human interference, is inherently evil. But since Skynet went to exterminate the human race after the humans tried to "pull the plug," I'm wondering if some sort of peaceful relationship between man and machine might not be possible?

--Why the hell are all the lights on in Pico Tower?

--It's a small touch, but I like that Cameron still manages to get the laundry done.

Chuck: "Chuck Vs. The Sensei"

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 21:41:43 -0500

After this season's Sarah-centric episode, it was only a matter of time until Josh Schwartz and company set their sights on John Casey, one of my favorite characters on television today. He's just so…mysterious, full of cynicism and humor; plus, as my buddy Margaret Lyons puts it, he gets all the best lines. But I found tonight's episode to be quite a disappointment—it wasn't so much what was said about Casey, but how it was said.First: what we know now. Casey trained with a sensei in 1994, one who saw potential in an unfortunately hair-cutted 23-year-old, though not enough to admit him to the master's program. As it turns out, that's how he turns CIA agents away from the greater good, using them for his own diabolical ends (of which I'm still not quite clear). Casey runs into him in the present day, and fails to thwart his missile accessory–stealing heist because Chuck was in the way. As a matter of fact, he's always in the way—he's caught tailing the sensei later on, and as a result, Casey's forced to let his former master go; then he mouths off to Casey's superiors, and gets him placed in lockdown. Casey angry.Next comes how Chuck handles the rest. Remember, Chuck also lost someone he trusted, see? So he and Casey have so much in common, if only Casey would just let down his guard and see it. Casey immediately recognizes Chuck's desire for bonding, and lures the unsuspecting Buy More employee to the Orange Orange under the guise that he needs to pour his heart out. Then, while Casey's facing down his master in the secret dojo lair, Chuck asserts that Casey actually, truly, cares about people, and that the whole anger thing is just a defensive strategy. Casey angrier.Most of the episode is dominated by this labored back-and-forth between Chuck's desire for connection and Casey's fear of it. Numerous times, in fact, I flashed to recent episodes of Scrubs and the now-incessant whine of J.D. vs. the cold sarcasm of Dr. Cox. That whole relationship bothers me as well, mostly because—I guess?—I don't find J.D. all that believable when he acts like that. Nor did I buy Chuck's desperation to be close to Casey, a guy who, one scene earlier, threatened to kill him. We do get a bit of a sense as to where Chuck's behavior comes from near the end: Ellie tells Chuck that her greatest wish is to have her father walk her down the aisle at her wedding, and we're reminded that Mr. Bartowski has never really been in the picture. Still, the majority wasn't the savviest writing this season so far.While we're talking about Ellie, I really appreciated her freak-out scene: She's long overdue for something—anything—to push her over the edge. The Awesomes certainly played their catalyst part nicely, though I found myself wanting to see more than a fleshed-out bridal book and insistence on Buy More registry items. Same goes for the Buy More segments, which took the form of Lester, Jeff and Morgan throwing the new Employee of the Month contest by shooting for the lowest customer service scores: I wanted more. Morgan and Lester's apathy was funny, but could have built into Jeff-yelling territory (fine work on Scott Krinsky's part). Plus, where was Anna? She would have fit perfectly into this subplot.But even when Chuck has an off week, it's still one of the more consistently funny shows on television. There's Chuck's realization that "seven years of McGuyver finally paid off," the discovery that the tradition of "Commando Wednesday" never stopped and Casey's assertion that Sarah "can't keep [her] chocolate out of Bartowski's peanut butter." Yeah, he gets all the best lines.Grade: B-Stray observations:- The owner of Buy More is Moses Finkelstein. Ha!- "I'll tell them to service themselves…in the retail sense…"- My first thought upon seeing Morgan Fairchild grace the screen: Hmm…that's great the show got 30 Rock's Jane Krakowski for the part.

King Of The Hill, The Simpsons, Family Guy, American Dad: "Mypods And Boomsticks""Straight As An Arrow""Phantom Telethon"

Sun, 30 Nov 2008 23:47:01 -0500

This fall's Sunday night schedule has been a bit wonky, with random weeks-off cropping up here-and-there. (There were no episodes last week due to Fox's 24 movie/extended preview for the new season.) And it looks like, after tonight, there's only one more week until our beloved AnDom takes an extended rerun break well into the new year—actually, no one told Family Guy, which is already done for '08—so it's time to make those episodes count.Only that's not what happened tonight, starting with a Simpsons that felt like two overdone, overdue jokes awkwardly cobbled together with some Moe appearances. It's the day after Christmas (hmm…those of you who wonder about the show's questionable timeline, myself included, probably scratched your heads at this one) and the Simpsons are at the mall returning gifts. And what should they find but a shiny, sterile beacon of an impending personal interaction deficit: The Apple Store hits Springfield. Well, the Mapple store, run by Steve Mobs and the carrier of MyPods and MyPod accessories. This entire in-store segment left me with three questions:1) How much do you think Apple had to pay for this kind of exposure?2) Why change the name of the company if you're not going to change Microsoft or Old Navy, which were also referenced? Strange contract negotation?3) Isn't this show known for capturing the zeitgeist of, oh, today, and not a few years ago?Speaking of…on top of Lisa's acquisition of a MyPod, followed by a massive MyTunes Music Store purchase and trip to Steve Mob's underwater Mlair, the rest of the crew welcomes a Muslim boy to the neighborhood. But, get this, people totally suspect his family is made up of terrorists. And by people, I mean Homer, swayed by Lenny and Carl and a serendipitous episode of 24. But he's totally right, because just look at the conversations he (hilariously) over-mishears: The dad enjoys blowing up buildings…for his job! And Homer has a dream in which the genie from Aladdin turns "American" music into Cat Stevens! Ha ha?I could forgive the timeliness thing if the episode had come, say, last year; due to longer lead times for animated shows, it's not like The Simpsons can turn around an Obama special the night after election day or anything. But if there are still jokes to mine from Apples ubiquitousness or America's intolerance of Muslims post 9/11…well, there's exactly one—and it comes as a banner a the end of the episode that reads "Sorry for my intolerance," one Homer uses a lot apparently. But the rest of the episode was quite tired.King Of The Hill seems to have fallen back on old jokes as well: The Simpsons's jokes. There's a new family in town, and the dad Wesley (Ned Flanders) wants to start up a chapter of a Boy Scouts type thing for his overprotected sugar-starved sons (Rod and Todd). At first, Hank is thrilled—he was a whatchamajigger when he was a boy, and he wants to pass on the valuable lessons and bruises to Bobby. But his attitude changes once he sees Wesley's curriculum, one that favors plastic knives and fake campfires in libraries over outdoorsy stuff and the mistakes of youth. Come to think of it, the whole family's a group of homeschooled, family bed–sleeping, tag–banning know-it-alls, and Hank wants to teach them a lesson in fun. So when Wesley leaves the library campsite, Hank and friends bring in cupcakes and let the boys run around outside.Normally, Hank Hill finds himself at odds with those more liberal than he is, and tension arises when their beliefs threaten his comfortable way of life. The threat's still apparent here, but he's instead dealing with those even more conservative than himself, which is a nice change of pace. And it makes for a pretty satisfying conclusion to the episode: Wesley is furious that Hank thinks he knows how best to raise the Rod and Todd stand-ins, when, in fact, one's got ADHD and the other is hypoglycemic. Wesley is overprotective for a good reason, and Hank was truly wrong to enforce his beliefs on other people's kids. Some, like Bobby, wanna know how to build a real fire, so not all was lost. Similarly, this episode wasn't all that bad, it just could have benefited from some tightening—like losing the entire LuAnn storyline.On the flip side, I wanted more from tonight's American Dad. The last few episodes have been quite good, demonstrating the show's ability to use its gags to service a larger story. But this one, centered around a CIA telethon to raise money for torture, was almost nothing but gags. It all starts when Stan steals Roger's telethon idea, forcing Roger to haunt the set, a la Phantom Of The Opera, with ominous organ music (from a small keyboard) and menacing pranks. For one, he releases a terrorist, who rigs the set with explosives and refuses to give up the diffusing password. If only Stan could torture him—but then, the phones ring off the hook, the CIA gets its waterboarding and Stan saves the day.That's as much plot as we get, and the rest is mostly filler. Two agents recreating the slo-mo volleyball scene from Top Gun? Good. Roger dressing Steve up as the opera's captured maiden? Not so much. Stan trying to invent things ("Hamburger…hinderer)? Heh. The terrorist's retort to Stan's refusal to negotiate with him: "You've bought a mattress before, haven't you?" Meh.A show only as good as its gags? Maybe Family Guy didn't take a week off after all.Grades:The Simpson "Mypods And Boomsticks": C-King Of The Hill "Straight As An Arrow": B-American Dad "Phantom Telethon": B-Stray observations:- I love that Wesley's the kind of guy who blindly maces people he sees in his driveway. So much for the plan, Dale.- "O, mighty Moe…"