2009 TV - Hourlongs

10. Fringe

I didn’t like the pilot. Hell, I didn’t like the show until episode 1.18 (ironically written and directed by Akiva Goldsman, who has written and produced so many shitty movies that I feel like kicking him in the balls right now), but once the show started focusing on an alternate reality, I was sucked in. Maybe it’s because I’m a whore for severe science-fiction concepts (time travel and malevolent artificial intelligence also make the list, just in case Jeff Pinkner is reading), but there’s some good stuff here. It can be, from time to time, too episodic and lacking in character development (aside from Walter, who seems to change from scene to scene), but when it’s clicking, it’s clicking. I’m much more surprised than you that it made the list.

9. 24

It wasn’t the most consistent season (that would be Season Five) it didn’t have the best episodes (that was Season Three), but goddammit, it wasn’t Season Six. That’s something to be thankful for. Tony Almeida went evil, Renee Walker became the sexiest FBI agent since Dana Scully, Kim Bauer managed to be the smartest kidnapping victim alive, and the dearly departed Bill Buchanan managed to secure a silent clock twelve minutes into an episode. It’s amazing that an action show managed to execute a suspenseful seventh season, given how fast most shows in this genre burn out quick. I still cannot forgive the lack of a resolution to the Alan Wilson arc, but I’m still glad this show made the list this year.

8. Battlestar Galactica

Starbuck is an angel. Baltar and Six are angels (demons?). Hera is Mitochondrial Eve. Gaeta and Zarek get assassinated. Ellen Tigh is the final Cylon. As with most of the episodes in Season Two and the middle of Season Three through the middle of Season Four, Battlestar managed to remain utterly puzzling and incoherent at times whilst offering hours of such palpable tension that they feel like they last for mere minutes. I still only get about 45% of this show, but that 45% is so good that I really don’t care.

7. Big Love

Season One was overly earnest and pretty boring. Season Two was less so, but still not my kind of television. So imagine my surprise when I’m watching episode 3.04 and I forget all of these complaints. The writing in Season Three became more self-assured, avoiding the occasional mock religious self-parody that plagued earlier episodes. When Bill Paxton and Jeanne Tripplehorn discuss the vital need for progeny to serve in the Kingdom of Heaven, I’m no longer snickering. I’m taking it just as seriously as they are. Add a potential Indian/Mormon casino and you have some damn fine television. And that road trip episode? Most HBO shows aren’t that good 85% of the time. And when I take HBO to task, you’ll know that I mean it.

6. Kings

Oh, how I miss you, my poor, misunderstood Kings. HBO decides to make a rare bad decision and cancel Deadwood before David Milch’s last season and NBC made a rare good decision by immediately casting Ian McShane in a show with dialogue so flowery it feels genuinely Milchian. Yeah, it’s a modern, sci-fi interpretation of the Biblical story of David, but only much more interesting than anything in that Book of Snoozes. Add Dylan Baker and, my Lord, Brian Cox into the matter and you have me pleased as a pig in shit. I could listen to the Shakespearean verses by McShane for years, which is probably why I only got 13 episodes. It wasn’t perfect and sometimes defied logic, but it made me feel smarter.

5. Damages

“When I am through with you/There won’t be anything left!” It has the best theme song on television, and is easily the best cable show that isn’t on AMC, and Season Two was glorious. They managed to retain Ted Danson and employ William Hurt, Marcia Gay Harden and Timothy Olyphant, further solidifying one of the most resplendent casts on television. Damages is the rare show that begins every season with its final scene yet manages to avoid predictability. I know that I can’t do that, and you can’t either. For that reason alone, it earns its place on this list.

4. Dollhouse

What? A Joss Whedon show cleaning up in a RyBob year-end review? Shocking! But mock irony aside, it actually is shocking. The Bard’s most recent creation sucked for about five episodes (one of which was directed by Whedon and one of which was written by Tim Minear, so you know I’m not fucking around), but once “Man on the Street” hit, I wanted five seasons worth of DVD’s instantly. Fox’s decision to not air “Epitaph One” was completely foolhardy, as it managed to be the single best episode of television that I have seen since “Casino Night.” Brilliant and scary in ways that only Whedon can do, it set the tone for a mostly flawless sophomore effort, one that managed to make the who prostitution angle less icky (not much, but a little) and deliver whallop after whallop. Sierra’s flashback episode, featuring the chilling scene between Topher, Boyd, and a hacksaw? Genius. The episode in which we visit the Attic and essentially see what’s happening behind the giant Dollhouse windows in 2020? Among the most brilliant science-fiction forays since the Island moved. Plus, the best line of dialogue this year: “What year is it?” “2010. I think. It depends how long we’ve been off the air.” Of course, I’m writing this hours before watching the series finale, but if it delivers what I’m hoping it delivers, you’ll see Dollhouse in this same position next year.

3. Lost

Like I said earlier, the Island moved. In time. In space. All sorts of ways. We got to see how Benjamin Linus summons the smoke monster. We got to meet Jacob for the first time in the corporeal sense, a revelation that actually proves there was some plan. We got to see the hidden origin of Miles Straume, my favorite character. We got the Lampost. We learn how Dr. Pierre Chang lost the arm (let’s just say that the good doctor has something in common with Bennett Halvorson. The show also managed to, for the first time, make the off-Island events as compelling as the events in Dharma Central, especially when the narrative split. The final season premieres in mere days and I couldn’t be more giggly-fanboy excited. Namaste.

2. Mad Men

Matthew Weiner is, by now, a certifiable genius. As wonderful as his work on The Sopranos was, I rarely look forward to something more than a Mad Men episode with his name attached to it. Season Three brought us the brutal ennui of Betty Draper, the last stand of Salvatore Romano, the introduction of the British Brigade (namely Lane Pryce) and the serendipitous collapse of Sterling Cooper. Along the way there was a wayward John Deere tractor, Peggy uttering the line “my name is Peggy Olson and I’d like to smoke some marijuana,” the brief reappearance of Duck Phillips, and a season finale that redefined dramatic television. When a show manages to create its finest hour by imagining a wedding ceremony in the wake of Kennedy’s assassination and manages to top it a mere seven days later, there’s magic in it.

1. Breaking Bad

As much as I loved Season One (and trust me, I loved it), there was no more compelling mystery this year than the two dead bodies in the White compound. Add Aaron Paul’s increasingly empathetic junkie, the brilliance that is Bryan Cranston, another genius supporting role by Bob Odenkirk, the speech about water on Mars… you name it, I was enthralled by it. It’s hard to evaluate this show without uttering the word “genius” over and over again, so I won’t bother. If you weren’t wondering what the teddy bear was doing in the pool, shame on you.

Best of 2009 - Television

Ah, 2009. A great year (I know, I too think it’s weird that I enjoyed it as much as I did), and a great year for television.

The family finally started paying for HBO, changed to digital cable (offering many cable favorites in High Definition for the first time), and purchased a genuine 1080p television. Usually I do the Top 35 shows of the year, but I’m tired and it’s not fair to compare half-hours to hourlongs. Instead, I offer two Top 10 lists. Some important honorable mentions will be posted when time permits.

Half-Hours

10. The Life and Times of Vivienne Vyle

Thank God for DVD. This six-episode BBC masterpiece manages to be an anglicized version of The Larry Sanders Show and one of the most nuanced psychological character studies in television history, much less in a comedy. You would think that a humorless social scientist’s fruitless efforts to humanize the enfant terrible head honcho of a trashy talk show would have an effect akin to some over baked independent film, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m not even sure if a second series was ordered, but if it wasn’t… for shame, BBC. For shame.

9. The Spectacular Spider-Man

Action on television has always been dubious and shoddy, especially in the field of animation. Let’s face it. Name any cartoon series since the invention of the cathode ray tube that actually vibrated with electric excitement. Something that has a palpable thrill to it. I never thought that I could be swayed to the end of my seat by an animated “spider-man” battling a “sand-man” in a subway, especially when I know that neither party is headed toward their doom, but it happened. Color me impressed.

8. Modern Family

If Rico Rodriguez II doesn’t become the next Michael Cera by the time he turns 18, I’ll eat my hat. Seriously. For years I mistakenly believed that 30 Rock is the heir apparent to Arrested Development (certain elements lead me to believe that that program is more in tuned with The Simpsons), but if another show had to take its place, we could do a whole lot worse than Modern Family. It’s the rare show where people are allowed to be flawed and terrible to each other without actually making the characters unlikable. It’s also rare that the sight of a gruff no-shit grandpa intentionally flying a miniature motorized airplane into the face of his clueless and naïve son-on-law manages to make you feel empathy for both parties involved, and that’s a skill that Modern Family has in spades.

7. How I Met Your Mother

I didn’t become a fan until the tail end of Season Three, and the canned laughter still drives me absolutely fucking bananas, but I couldn’t be happier that this show was allowed to grow and mature at the pace it has. It’s also hard to believe that I excitedly tune in every week, even though I couldn’t care less who the mother is. The show has blossomed into a more impressive version of the Golden Age of Friends, and if it lasts until 2030, I won’t complain.

6. 30 Rock

The current fourth season has faltered somewhat (especially after three phenomenal seasons that managed to improve upon themselves exponentially), but it’s still a blast to hear every word out of Tracy Morgan’s mouth and savor every single second of Dr. Leo Spaceman’s screen time. The laugh-per-minute ratio can, at times, rival Airplane! and the middle seasons of South Park (the golden examples of meta jabber), and that’s why it’s still on this list. I would normally end with some desperate gag about Tina Fey’s desirability, but I’d be beating a dead horse.

5. The Office

A certain BFF stopped watching this show regularly, and when I found out I was crestfallen. The frustrating fourth season was redeemed with a fifth season that boasted a JAM engagement and the brilliant machinations of the Michael Scott Paper Company. Its sixth season, however? Better than the show has been since “Branch Closing.” Newlywed Jim Halpert has managed to evolve from a man with no ambitions other than gazing at his former receptionist lady love and making his psychotic desk mate miserable into a man devoted to upward mobility, financial security, and the wellbeing of his company. This shift in character represents a maturity that eludes most shows in their third seasons, much less their sixth. The show can fall to some really weird depths (“Mafia” is, joke for joke, one of the funniest episodes of television I’ve ever seen and, paradoxically, joke for joke completely wrong for the show in terms of realism), but this is still a show that made me cry over a clip show. A clip show! Sure, they used Travis’ “Sing” to great effect, but every time I think of the Maid of the Mist end to “Niagara,” I get a little verklempt.

4. Community

A half-baked pilot featuring a cast full of one-dimensional characters has blossomed into a completely unpredictable half-hour that tends to redefine the term “meta.” Sure, I get all goo-goo eyed over Alison Brie, but my future wife aside, this show boasts an ensemble that is completely inseparable. Remove one single element and the franchise would collapse. I never thought I could find present-day Chevy Chase humorous, or witness a fully rounded, perfectly calibrated Ken Jeong character, but this show never fails to surprise me. Let’s also not forget the fact that the Russo Brothers have returned to television for the first time since the first season of Arrested Development, which is money in the bank, seeing as how there are Russo fingerprints on practically every episode.

3. Weeds

How did this happen? Usually, when a series implodes and decides to go in a different direction (like Jenji Kohan et al did in Season Four), crappiness is sure to follow. But by allowing the human black widow known as Nancy Botwin to shack up with a corrupt, gunrunning Mexican politician, I’m looking more and more forward to having no idea where this show is going. I love that every season manages to throw a corkscrew that defies logic yet never feels out of place, a talent that tends to make me flat out jealous. Also, the five-month jump from Nancy considering leaving Esteban to the Grizzly Adams version of Andy, General Lee and all, was one of the best storytelling decisions I have seen on television since the first flash-forward on Lost.

2. The Venture Bros.

Adult Swim caters to stoners. Why else would they air The Mighty Boosh at 2 A.M. or make a film based on Aqua Teen Hunger Force? Yet, they managed to procure the best half-hour animated comedy since the first demise of Futurama. Layered to a T and capable of offering plot twists that bruise like sucker punches, this is no cartoon. There are stakes in this universe, and every word out of every character’s mouth has some significance in the grand scheme of popular culture. Did I manage to mention that the show also happens to be goddamn hilarious? Any show that manages to recast the grunts of G.I. Joe into former-homosexual-born-again-Christian warriors of justice with codenames like Shore Leave deserves a sloppy kiss.

1. Parks and Recreation

I know what you’re thinking. “I didn’t much care for that pilot, or the five episodes that followed.” If only you had any idea what you’re missing. Aubrey Plaza, my future second wife, manages to say more with a pouty scowl than most actors can accomplish with a monologue. Amy Poehler has allowed Leslie Knope to blossom into a character that resembles Michael Scott only in the way that any well-meaning yet disastrous characters resemble Michael Scott, and proves every week that this is much more than The Office 2.0. When Leslie stumbles, I feel her pain and frustration without being unable to laugh at the scenarios she finds herself stranded in. The shenanigans in Pawnee, Illinois manage to be overly broad and silly without becoming frustrating, layered with dialogue and deadpan performances that harkens back to the screwball comedy classics of the ‘40s. If you went back and digitally replaced the Marx Brothers in Duck Soup with Leslie, Tom, April and Andy, nothing would seem out of the ordinary. This is the perfect example of a show that was born out of greed and corporate tinkering and managed to become the most striking can't-miss comedy series on television. As long as it remains on the path it’s on, I know where I’ll be on Thursdays at 8:30.

Coming Soon

My first posts, later in the month, will be my annual Best of TV and Best of Film for 2009 lists, so you can look forward to not recognizing anything on either list. Practice your disappointed face!

Hello, All!

I've been with Xanga for five-plus years, but nobody reads that jive anymore. This new blog is simply about what you're not watching, reading, or listening to, or, depending on a whim, anything I damn well please. I write a lot, I tend to be esoteric, and I use multiple profanities. But if you're a fan of the Muppets or Joss Whedon or HBO, you're my kind of people and you're welcome. If not, go to Hell. (The metaphorical Hell, as Hell does not actually exist. Unless you count Baltimore.)