Monsters of Television

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 »

“Then what is the point of you?”

You will not be sleeping during the episode. (But don't they look cute?)

Dream episodes are always tricky. They can come off as overwrought or feel like a cheat. After the vapid “Vampires of Venice,” I was eager for a strong episode, and I was happily rewarded with “Amy’s Choice,” which does a number of things well on a number of levels. It’s a smartly constructed chamber-drama of sorts with some very nice character beats to be found through all the birds chirping and dangerous old people.

Due to the preview, I though the episode would be divisive, though I don’t think it ended up being that way. I think the challenge of the episodes come in how you want to interpret the reveal at the end, and what impact that has on your perception of the characters. It’s an inkblot of sorts, I think. Read more »

“This whole business needs a little Michael Westen.”

I didn’t watch season 3 of Burn Notice too closely. I watched the summer portion with a fair amount of dedication, but the winter portion somehow slipped by me. When I tuned in for episodes, I wondered where Detective Paxson went and why Gilroy really mattered that much (he felt like a stall). It made the season a bit of a mess for me, but the finale won me back with its oddly disturbing final shot and an eagerness to see if the arc for the season would be a little clearer.

“Friends and Enemies” is a decent season premiere. It essentially lays the groundwork for the coming season with the standard Client of the Week plot as the primary focus. It’s a structure the show has used for most of its run, but one I’m hoping the show, with its set-up this season, will eventually begin to integrate better. Read more »

“Muah ha ha.”

Where does one buy villainous trenchcoats?

The spy procedural is based on the “unreliable witness.” Espionage, as a genre, involves a number of “agents” that can turn coat on a dime or, at the whim of the show’s authors, reveal themselves to have always been a double agent without precedent. No character can be trusted with anything. In fact, not even what the audience sees can be trusted since, often, what they see is a biased version of what is actually transpiring. Nothing is reliable, not even what the viewer can testify to seeing. The abilities of spies have risen to superhuman in order to either (a) cover up narrative holes or (b) make an audience believe that this network of subterfuge, obfuscation, and coolness is believable. Spies are the new superheroes because, with a gadget or some sleight of hand, maybe even the opportunity to slip off a dress at a moment’s notices, anything is possible. For reference, see Alias, Burn Notice, or Dollhouse (though the latter has its own complications with the supernatural/extraordinary).

Chuck started like a children’s version of the spy procedural: many of the tricks of the spy trade but with this elementary element that even a goofball can do the job, if a bit clumsily. Chuck as a character is proof that spies have been elevated to something that has normally needed a cape and underwear-on-the-outside-of-the-pants to designate its superiority. We have been led to believe that he is a normal guy given extraordinary power and that is the only way he could possibly compete on the same level as his fellow agents (Walker and Casey) that received “ordinary” spy training. The thread of Chuck’s normal life kept it grounded and almost made it a parody of all those spy procedurals that take themselves so seriously.

But Chuck has been growing up over the past season and a half and has reached a sort of awkward adolescence. While the ending to Season 3 packed a few punches, it is constantly wrestling with the spy procedural genre and that which kept it grounded, a thread that was spinning out of control, the two halves of the show diverging intensely. At the end of this episode, the show seems to have made a choice. And I can’t say it made the right one. Especially since it goes into next season with what might be some heavy intra-network competition.

Read more »

“Well well well, we came a long way to kill ya’ll little niglets. Now it’s time for the big bonanza!”

Serialization is wonderful. It rewards viewers for continuing to watch a show and really gives the feeling that there is actual story, that the characters we’re watching are real people with real memories. It does wonders in animation. Every time Sideshow Bob reappeared on The Simpsons it was sure to be a great episode. The Boondocks has continued to do this with its very own Colonel H. Stinkmeaner.

Stinkmeaner, an angry old man whose purpose in life is to spread ignorance and chaos, first appeared in season 1 (“Granddad’s Fight”) where he ends up getting killed in a confrontation with Robert Freeman. He returns in season 2 (“Stinkmeaner Strikes Back”) as a demon possessing Tom DuBois to continue his reign of terror. In this episode Stinkmeaner’s old crew, The Hateocracy, returns for revenge on the Freeman Family. 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 »

“But fuckin’ community theatre? It’s like a delusion of a delusion.”

I adore a well-done farce. All the running around, the mistaken identities, the uptick in speed as the script hurdles towards its climax. It’s all great fun. (And one of the reasons I enjoy both Frasier and The Nanny.) But it takes a great deal of things for a farce to work, including a cast that is on their toes, a quick script, and smart director. Even if one of those things is only slightly off, the entire thing crumbles.

Thankfully, this is not the case in Party Down‘s “‘Not On Your Wife’ Opening Night.” Indeed, the show’s stab at farce never lets up, not even for a moment. And as much as I loved “Steve Guttenberg’s Birthday Party,” I think this episode is the best of the season thus far. Read more »

“Show me the plan.”

It feels like season finales this year are aiming more for epilogues to their seasons than final chapters, if such a distinction makes sense. Some of it is industrial, networks ordering extra episodes, either a little too late to be incorporated into the first bit of the season (like Chuck) or ordered a few more than was originally expected (like Community). As a result, episodes that seem to function like finales become the penultimates, resulting in episodes that don’t pack the finale punch.

The Good Wife isn’t too different. “Running” isn’t as fiery an episode as I found last week’s “Hybristophilia”, an episode that hits all those season finale requirements of character maneuvering and arc resolutions. Indeed, it seems like the show decided to devote an episode to each of its arcs: the law firm and Peter’s trial were resolved last week, and this week follows through on the romantic entanglements among characters as well as set up Peter’s political aims next season.

Perhaps my lack of engagement stems that I don’t find either arc as interesting as the ones last week (though Peter’s arcs are connected), or that there was little in the ways of suspense in either arc. And it also could be that this episode, for the first time since I started watching, had me wishing I had been watching since the first episode. Read more »

“We could go Dutch.”

Aside from Noel’s review, each of the writers for Monsters of Television will provide their takes on Lost, from their own perspectives. Below, Matt discusses the nostalgia the finale engaged and the love of his life, regardless of when or where, Juliet.

We the audience should approach our relationship with Lost the same way Sawyer and Juliet decide to treat their sideways date: meet in the middle. Of course not every question is going to be answered and no not everyone is going to be completely satisfied. We all have to give a little up but we’re sure to receive in return.

Before I dive in it’s probably important to note that I did enjoy the finale. Was it perfect? No. Was it what I expected? Hell no. It was different. After thinking about it and talking through it with members of my viewing party I realized the brilliance and forgave the things that I thought would make me rage. Perhaps I’m too much of a fanboy. But again I say it wasn’t perfect. My thoughts on “The End” can best be broken down into three words: nostalgia, unexpected, and Juliet. Read more »