Queen of Mediocrity--and winner?
Okay, I have finally figured it out. You see, Top Chef sucks this year on purpose. It is part of their master plot to issue a gigantic commentary on politics. No really, I mean it. This is the only explanation for all the nonsense this season. You know you want to hear more.
Name this chef. No, really, can you name her?
Last week’s Top Chef generated some testy reviews—when it generated any reviews at all, that is. This hasn’t been the most blogged about season of Top Chef, lacking characters that can offer the intense competition of season six’s Voltaggio brothers, the lovable quirkiness of season five’s Carla, and the amusing bromance of Spike and Mark in season 4. There’s also a serious and troubling dearth of likeability—where’s the Fabio? The Richard? In essence, there’s a lack of personality—more about this after the jump. But first, let’s look at other mean things people are saying about the episode, “Room Service”…
Oh, dear, are we witnessing the return of "Annoying Julie"?
“This has been a strange week.”
When Tami makes this comment to Coach Taylor as they sit at a table staring at a gun, you understand that this year at East Dillon is challenging the Taylors in new ways. In general, though, this was a week of baby steps on Friday Night Lights. Landry and Vince make strong choices about their future, but other characters, like Julie and Becky, simply struggle to get by. Considering the number of subplots at play this season, it is impressive that each storyline continues to hold my attention—even the second time through. These characters—most of them—are just darn likeable. Or at least darn identifiable, which may be worth more.
I’ve read some criticism of this season of Friday Night Lights for its rather naïve depiction of race relations in Dillon. In particular, the program’s handling of Vince and his struggle against the negative influences of his neighborhood buddies has drawn the fire of some critics who feel that the show simply misses the mark when it tries to go “ghetto.” Can’t help wondering what the critics who write these critiques know about the ghetto (aside from The Wire), but that’s a discussion for another day. On Friday’s episode, I thought the growing relationship between Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler) and Vince (Michael B. Jordan) was the best thing about the episode.
Top Chef is back, and it has invaded the nation’s capitol. This means, among other things, that Nancy Pelosi will be guesting on the program (!). The contestants seem reasonably adequate. So far, Kenny and Angelo are running at the head of the pack, with Angelo’s ego spotlighted by the editing. But ever since Hosea’s (devastating, to me) win, I’ve suspected that consistent mediocrity may be a better strategy than taking the lead at the sound of the starting gun.
But let’s get real—you don’t care about that, right? I know I was on the edge of my seat to see how Padma Lakshmi looks this year, post-baby. And? She looks…
Lie to Me pulled out all the stops this week. In the opening minutes, Foster and Lightman learn that a man named Andrews is coming to the office to reveal the truth about a long-unresolved mystery. Moments later, a bomb explodes outside the office, detonating the mysterious Andrews. To top it off, Lightman’s daughter is on her way to the office to attend a college visit with her dad. Nothing like a family in danger and the shock of an explosion to inject energy into a show.
In truth, these outward trappings of suspense were merely the surface appeal that covered a deeper conflict between Lightman (Tim Roth) and colleague Foster (Kelli Williams). The interplay between these two strong actors is always stimulating, and this week tried to up the ante on their banter by inserting mistrust into their friendship.
With the former plot points—the bomb and the cover-up uncovered—the program faltered. With the latter—Lightman and Foster examining the circumstances of their meeting—the program demonstrated its limitless potential, yet to be explored fully.
Hottie and Even Hotter
Friday Night Lights juggled a lot of balls in the air this week. Though the common theme was learning to accept the departure of a loved one, the episode also managed to include some male bonding between Luke and Vince, Landry being awkward (and therefore awesome), and, of course, an inspirational football game. Though it took me a half hour to pull together all the various pieces of the episode into a coherent whole, its common thread demonstrates the care of the writers in developing this season.
Lie to Me is back! I don’t know how many in the audience share the enthusiasm represented by that exclamation mark, but I have been looking forward to its second season. This show is a pleasant procedural with a strong central actor and enough surprises to keep things interesting. But I saw a glimpse of something in the episode last night, “Beat the Devil,” that provided a vision of…something more. Until this week’s episode, I never knew I wanted more. Now, I’m not sure I can turn back.
The recent episode of Friday Night Lights, entitled “The Son,” begins with Matt Saracen watching an old video of his father sending a holiday message to his American family from his base in Iraq. His father wears a Santa hat but speaks with such stoicism that the gesture conveys awkwardness instead of humor. His speech is a bit halted, but more from discomfort with addressing his family than from emotion. Based on previous episodes, fans are familiar with Henry Saracen’s inability to connect with his son. But because of the perfect execution of this short holiday message, new viewers, too, would understand with equal clarity the enigma that Matt studies as he repeatedly plays this video.
This episode of Friday Night Lights has been critically acclaimed. Featuring a grieving Matt Saracen (Zach Gilford) struggling to come to terms with the death of his many-years-absent soldier father, the program spotlights the depth of Gilford’s performance, the classically underwritten style of the program’s best scripts, and the right amount of poignancy mixed with patriotism. Gilford has long been a key player in FNL for his believable performance of a teenager—easily capturing a mix of youthful naïveté and awkward sincerity. In this particular episode, he demonstrates a facility with the more adult emotions of anger and horror. Read more »
“Buddy’s here!”
The best marriage on TV? Probably.
Those two words convey the delight of Friday Night Lights‘ most recent episode, “A Sort of Homecoming.” Despite the fact that it ventures into challenging territory by contemplating race, religion, and sex, it is often the smallest of moments that offer satisfaction. In the scene referenced above, Coach Taylor unintentionally crosses the economic and racial barriers that exist in Dillon, Texas, and finds himself at an impasse in his goal to build team spirit for East Dillon High School. Then, Buddy Garrity enters the room and suddenly those barriers disappear in a spontaneous eruption of nostalgia for the great football moments of a Dillon long past.
I’ve already watched the entirety of this season—and to be honest, I was initially hesitant to jump back in–would I be bored? Would the season hold up? It only took ten minutes, and I was hooked all over again. Read more »
This has been a super strange season of Top Chef Masters. My assessment derives from a comparison with only one other season, so perhaps I am being unfair. But some of my pleasure with the series has abated, and after some reflection, I can pinpoint two reasons for my lessened enthusiasm.
NOTE: Kelly Choi still annoys me. She is no Padma. But she’s been consistently unsatisfying, but I’ll leave my annoyance of “Padma-lite” for another post.
Last summer, Top Chef Masters satisfied on a number of levels. First, it provided a bit of a bridge between reality programs, filling the gap between the spring and summer television seasons. It also conveyed a completely different attitude than Top Chef, regular variety.
Perhaps a metaphor will help explain. I often tell students that summer classes are terrific because the teachers, too, have a “summer attitude”—less intensity, more camaraderie. Season 1 of Top Chef Masters demonstrated this same summer attitude. Not only were the chefs deeply respectful of one another, but so too were the judges respectful of the chef contestants. Also, the fact that the chefs were there to win donations for their favorite charities contributed to the goodwill the program encouraged.
In other words, everyone was there to have some fun and do some good. Sure, ego was on the line, and some chefs exposed theirs (ahem, that’s you I’m talking about, Chiarello). But in the end, the nicest and most consistent chef won, Rick Bayless. And along the way I discovered the genius of Hubert Keller, felt the love offered by Art Smith, and suffered through/laughed with the absurd puns of judge James Oseland.
This season, however, that spirit of fun has been lacking. Ultra competitive chefs like Marcus Samuelsson and Rick Moonen contribute to this enhanced intensity. Yet I can forgive contestants being eager. For me, the judges are the greater thieves of joy. On numerous occasions, they have awarded prize-winning, esteemed chefs a score of 2 out of 5. This was unheard of last season. Instead of camaraderie, we have witnessed brutal food evaluations and shocking disrespect. Read more »
