The title sequence of Showtime's Weeds promises something dispiritingly familiar, another American Beauty-inspired television show about a conformist suburban wasteland littered with middle-class McHouses and populated by Stepford Wives. Add to that the premise of a single mother moonlighting as the neighborhood pot dealer, and the easy-bake recipe for subversive social commentary practically reheats itself. The small miracle of Weeds is that it delivers exactly that, but tweaks expectations just enough to feel inspired, becoming a caustic black comedy that's grounded by its heroine's determination to hold tight to the shaky rung of middle-class normalcy. Played with toughness and bracing wit by Mary-Louise Parker, she enters into the drug trade with a forward-thinking entrepreneur spirit and a surprising willingness to defend her turf from the thugs who encroach upon it.