Out of Focus

The new TV season: First Take — Lone Star

Kyle Killen, the creator of the new Fox series Lone Star, wrote an open letter beseeching the greater American television audience to watch his show. Why would a writer need to do such a thing? Well, in case you haven't heard, Lone Star debuted to terrible numbers: In today's television landscape, a 1.3 rating equating to 4.1 million viewers ain't gonna cut it.

Fox promoted the hell out of the show. In fact, with the exception of NBC's The Event and ABC's My Generation, no other series of commercials for new fall season shows had become more annoying. Additionally, even with as much ad money behind it, the Monday at 9 p.m. timeslot remains so competitive, Fox likely had reasonable and moderate expectations for the early numbers.

But the shockingly low number fell too far, and even worse was the consistent decline seen over each quarter-hour. After watching the pilot myself, though, and then re-examining the time-slot, I can't say I'm so surprised.

Don't get me wrong: Now having seen all but a few of the first episodes from this season's new shows, Lone Star definitely takes its place among the most intriguing prospects of this young season. As I wrote about Monday, a pilot can only tell so much, and my "first take"s are just that: initial impressions based on one hour of what will, would and should be just a small part of a larger story. Lone Star has so many twists and complexities inherent in its premise, its ability to sustain itself over the course of an entire season—much less several—remains highly suspect. But its first episode also does precisely what every pilot should, and that's make you want to come back for more.

Still, I can see how the pilot's opening minutes might have confused some viewers. For those hanging around for a few minutes after House, it would have been really easy to say, "What's going on here? Meh, I wonder if Bristol's dancing yet?" Simply following the opening 10 minutes of Lone Star took a certain degree of attention, not due to bad writing, but out of Killen and episode director Marc Webb's determination to set the scene with a degree of intrigue and complexity. This degree of sophistication in the writing, however, may have backfired, not from the perspective of quality, but from easy accessibility.

The series has an interesting pedigree: Killen is a newbee to the TV scene, but has had his fiction published in numerous notable places, and wrote the screenplay for Jodie Foster's The Beaver, still awaiting a release. Producers Christopher Keyser & Amy Lippman were responsible for the mid-'90s Fox hit Party of Five. Also on the producing roster? Paul Weitz (as executive producer) and his brother Chris (as consulting producer). Now, I don't remember the specifics of a lot of Fox's promotion for the series, but I don't remember seeing anything mentioning "From the people behind Party of Five, Ameican Pie and Twilight: New Moon. Granted, such promotion would have given an audience absolutely no realistic idea of what it was in for, but networks and film studios do that all the time, and it could have attracted more eyes.

The new TV season: First Take — Outlaw

Earlier today, fans of NBC the world over rejoiced at the news that NBCU topper Jeff Zucker has finally stopped failing upwards. I'm sure he shall live comfortably for the rest of his years, and he will soon run some other sort of media company, but at least he will no longer be able to pursue his evil plot of destroying NBC. Besides, he managed to damage the Peacock enough during his tenure, rising through the ranks as the network that brought us the most provocative and entertaining television through the '80s and most of the '90s slowly dropped to last in the ratings.

Not to Zucker's credit, NBC's schedule this year does not appear completely horrific, but one interesting legacy project which in its own way exemplifies the poor decisions of the entire Zucker era premiered last week and has its second episode tonight. NBC's new Jimmy Smits-led show Outlaw arrived on televisions last Wednesday (Sept. 15) after the finale of America's Got Talent. I guess that was nice of them, figuring it might give Outlaw a fighting shot before it gets sequestered to the potential death-slot that is Fridays at 10 p.m. I'm sure that NBC hopes that a legal drama led by Smits might be enough to draw the older demographic still watching TV in that slot at least makes sense.

Of course, Friday was not always doomsday for series. For years, Friday night shows dominated the ratings. Dallas and Miami Vice—just to name two of many—both thrived on Fridays. But the TV landscape has changed, and unfortunately, if the pilot episode is any indication, Outlaw isn't going to lead the resurrection.

Which is unfortunate, especially considering the odd and unexpected collection of creative minds behind the series and its interesting if unrealistic premise: A conservative, womanizing Supreme Court justice (with a secret gambling problem) abruptly resigns the bench to defend the accused and find peace with the memory of his liberal activist father who recently died in an accident.

John Eisendrath, the series creator, executive producer and writer of the pilot, came to television prominence as one of the main creative forces behind Beverly Hills 90210. He also spent time on Models Inc., Felicity and Alias. The Irish writer/director Terry George (Hotel Rwanda, Some Mother's Son as well as writer of In the Name of the Father and The Boxer) helmed the pilot episode. And the series is part of NBC's leftover producing deal with Conan O'Brien's company, so the dissed late-night host about to open shop on TBS is another executive producer.

There might be a good series there, but the pilot points in the opposite direction. The case at the center of this episode was pretty by-the-numbers: a black man wrongfully accused of murder, ultimately cleared when Justice Garza (Smits) and his team discover that (drumroll, please… SPOILER!) the husband did it! In fact, far more interesting than the case itself is the casting of the innocent man: Rza of Wu-Tang fame.

The pilot fails primarily due to horrific writing. The hackneyed dialogue drops exposition like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote's head. Within the first five minutes of the episode, after one of Garza's clerks pulls him out of a casino because of the urgency of Gary Beals' (Rza) final pre-execution appeal, he encounters a (beautiful, natch!) young woman among several protesters outside. She tells him that Beals' "life is in your hands." Let the obvious eye-rolling begin:

Garza: Let me guess: ACLU.
Hot protester: Yeah, card-carrying member.
Garza: Before you go and burn a flag in protest, a jury unanimously convicted Greg Beals of killing a cop. Three appellate courts saw no reason to overturn that verdict, but perhaps you know better.
Hot protester: I might, if you'd let him have a fair trial.
Garza: I don't let people have anything. I follow the law.

I'm not sure why I didn't transcribe the next couple of lines, but Garza says something about how he's "Switzerland" and doesn't care about the individual players involved unless he sees relevant evidence. The hot protester continues:

Hot protester: Wow, would your dad be disgusted right now. He was a hero of mine. He was never Switzerland. He used the law to give people hope. To lift their spirits not shatter their dreams.

Yawn.

After another brief exchange with his law clerk, cut to Garza's apartment and the hot protester in post-coital dreamland in his bed. Garza, meanwhile, sits watching footage of his father talking about their relationship in an interview and how even though they hold opposite ideologies, they love each other. (A photo on the wall indicates Garza was nominated for the Supreme Court by George W. Bush.) Conflict confirmed!

The series does not lack potential, and the pilot does its job setting-up multiple narrative arcs that could prove provocative: Garza's gambling problem; Machiavellian Republican party operatives who hate him; some loan shark-types who might be after him; a clerk who's in love with him; and more hinted-at possibilities involving the rest of the supporting cast. However, none of those storylines will matter if the individual episode cases remain as uninteresting and the dialogue as poorly-written as in this pilot. I doubt Outlaw will ever become a long-term must-see for me, but I'll give it another two-to-three episodes before I pass final judgment.

The new season: First Take — Boardwalk Empire

"You can't be half a gangster Nuck."

The new TV season is underway. As always, The CW got out of the gate early, and for what seems like the first time in a while, the four major networks are all launching the vast majority of their new series during the exact same premiere week, beginning tonight.

But it goes without saying that—NBC's attempts to make people care about The Event not withstanding—the most anticipated event of the new season was last night's premiere of Boardwalk Empire on HBO: A show that carries the prestige of Martin Scorsese making his first foray into narrative series television; a show created by one of the main contributors to the longevity of "the series that changed television," The Sopranos; a show starring notable and recognizable talent most well-known for their performances in the independent film world; and, of course, a show from the aforementioned HBO, which does perfectly fine (thank-you-very-much) with the rest of its current slate creatively, but suffers the slings-and-arrows of a preponderance of critical media who have deemed the channel modern television's Tiffany network and therefore responsible for always bettering the quality and influence of their shows. When HBO produces anything less than a Sopranos-like lightning-strike or critical darling hosannas falling short of The Wire while impish ingénue-networks like AMC, F/X and Showtime nip at its heels, the channel's perch at the peak of the mountaintop becomes tenuous.

Of course, HBO simply became its own enemy, and people don't treat HBO series like any others on television (even as the opposite has regularly proved true for its original movies). This reality actually informs this perfect marriage between the network and Scorsese; people don't seem to judge his work on its own merits anymore either. "A Martin Scorsese film" must live-up to, if not surpass, his estimable canon, otherwise the backlash begins rather quickly.

I'm not necessarily arguing that such consideration is unfair; we expect more from better artists in any medium, and often, I think we expect even more than they give us no matter how great the work may be. Sometimes we do the opposite as well, and I'm sure I've been guilty of this as much as anyone—forgiving missteps because of a general admiration; nitpicking because of a regular distaste.

I can't think of any network nor filmmaker in recent memory more criticized for producing disappointments that aren't, though. Several HBO series some have considered misfires are actually excellent television; just maybe not the level of "excellent television" expected from the network behind The Sopranos, Deadwood, The Wire, etc. But too many also forget that—its brilliant, now decades-old tagline notwithstanding—HBO actually is TV, and never more so than when it produces work within the series form. Regardless of the lack of commercials and production budgets, these programs remain television series, requiring different storytelling and narrative techniques than feature films. They are not 50-to-60 minute movies with an ungodly number of sequels. What that too often means is that episode one likely will not shock you into rapturous fidelity, and more often than not, even the best series will seem like they are just "warming up," a phrase I've seen in reviews concerning Boardwalk Empire.

Miscellaneous Miscellany: Don't call it a comeback; but here's an abstract – Part 1

I'm still hedging my bets. This habit stuff is hard. (That's been my motto all year: THSIH. It rolls off the tongue.) As I mentioned yesterday, barely a day passes that I don't encounter at least one thing prompting my internal voices to say, "I'm going to write about that." In fact, I generally keep a running list—one that enjoys running without stopping much more than I do; it obviously just keeps going and going even as I ignore it.

Some ideas I deem too old to use now. Some are relatively evergreen, and sooner or later, I will certainly focus on them. Some are extremely timely; if I don't get to them soon, I will disappoint myself and leave them be, but then hopefully they will also drift away and and stop cluttering my brain.

When I began writing this post, I intended it to be a relatively brief, disorganized annotated table-of-likely-contents, describing subject matter that I hope to address in the coming days and weeks. Some may disappear, making an appearance here before fading away and not requiring another word. Others will demand my attention further. No promises either way, and the order that follows barely even signifies any preferences.

As I started writing, though, some things required more description than a a title and two-sentence summary, and the next thing I knew, this post was way too long. So I've broken it into parts—at least two, maybe three. We'll see where we end up.

For now, assuming the habit holds, the following offers a taste of what's clogging my brain:

How does Jeff Zucker keep failing upwards? NBC and the pending Leno debacle

That's right, kids. All it takes is a major multi-million dollar corporate executive to make one of the biggest bonehead moves in television history to at least momentarily get me out of this writing funk. Here's a question for you: let's say you somehow managed to executive produce the most profitable morning news show in television history, and that lands you a cushy little promotion to be the big cheese, in charge of all of one of the big three's entertainment programming. Funny thing though ... you have a surprise hit here and there, but for the most part, your ascendancy to that top entertainment chair (from the news division, mind you) helps your network begin and continue its slide from the #1 network overall right down to the bottom. So what happens next? Dammit ... you get promoted. And promoted again. And again. And I'm pretty sure one more time. At least four times, I believe. Welcome to the charmed life of Jeff Zucker, the President & CEO of NBC Universal.

Now comes the coup de grace: as everyone has heard by now, NBC has recently decided that since they promised Conan O'Brien The Tonight Show starting in mid-2009, and they didn't want to risk losing current late-night ratings leader Jay Leno to another network, they would make the next (il)logical choice - hand over the 10 PM (9 Central, dontcha forget) time slot every weeknight to Leno so that he may continue essentially his version of The Tonight Show under a different moniker.

You may not be reading it here first, but I'd be willing to place every single dollar I have (or these days, don't have) that this is potentially the worst move in television history. Yes, worse than CBS giving up the NFL to Fox with nary a fight. (Don't laugh ... that single move helped contribute to years of CBS in the desert and to Fox rising up high enough to make people say the "Big Four" rather than "Big Three.") Yes, significantly worse than Katie Couric to the CBS Evening News or Deborah Norville replacing Jane Pauley on Today. Far, far, FAR worse than giving the Geico cavemen a sitcom or even the disastrous (and costly) "Chevy Chase Show" on Fox.

There isn't just one reason why this is a terrible strategic move for NBC. And before anyone simply calls me a "Leno hater," the quality of Leno's show is probably the least important factor as to why by this time next year (if there's any justice) this colossal flop will lead to Zucker's demise. For the recent successes at NBC -- and there have been a few, most notably the revival of the Thursday night comedy line-up and the decision to give over Sunday night to football -- have truly been in spite of some downright stupid strategic decisions by Zucker, both in terms of his hiring of subordinate management and specific programming.

GOOD ON NBC, BUT HERE'S HOW GREAT IDEA COMPRIMISES GET ALL SCREWED UP

I don't know about you, but I find myself incredibly enthusiastic about Bill Carter's story in today's NY Times detailing NBC's plan to offer free downloads -- not streaming -- of many of its series. Of course, I am annoyed that this service won't be available to all of us Mac users until the unspecified "later," but it's still a step in the right direction. There are so many problems with streaming large, long pieces of video content, but it's understandable that the networks don't want to give whole episodes away for free forever. So NBC is making the files available for seven days past broadcast premiere and then the files essentially self-destruct. The files will have embedded commercials that can't be skipped. If one wants to keep the episode, it will be available for purchase. A purchased version would drop the advertisements..

I hate having to spend $1.99 -- or anything -- on one episode of a series because that's the only way I have to see it. I buy a lot of DVDs but not a lot of series television. No matter how much I love most of the series to which I find myself addicted, I'm not a huge repeat viewer of television. But every now and then, I may want that one episode of Rescue Me or Eureka, or to be specific to NBC, Heroes, 30 Rock, My Name Is Earl, etc. These are all series which I would be quite unlikely to purchase.

How do ideas like these get complicated? By naysayer business analysts like Chris Crotty, quoted by Carter as saying the NBC idea "is a stretch." Carter goes on to say that Crotty apparently explains, "that it would not be attractive to consumers to have to range far and wide over a number of services to find the programs they want to download."

I'm not going to deny that having one central clearinghouse to find everything you need is nicer, but ... Hey asshole! If I have to go to each individual network to get a free episode rather than spending lots of money to get lots of paid episodes that I don't need to keep forever, I would prefer to have that degree of choice. Crotty also says that consumers view NBC as "highly greedy" for leaving iTunes. That may be fair. And I'm a huge lover of Apple -- a cult-member, if you will -- but who knows what really went on in those negotiations. Would Apple have allowed NBC to leave its series on iTunes if they were also offering free downloads for seven days? Maybe. Maybe not. Is Apple protecting the consumer by keeping its single-tiered pricing system, and is NBC trying to gouge us with variable pricing. Maybe. But to me, this system is all upside with the only true and meaningful downside being that it won't be available to me yet.

So kudos NBC. And other networks, don't pull off of iTunes, but try to follow-suit, and please don't listen to analysts who speak for consumers while having little to no concept of what it must be like to be one.

THIS IS WHAT THE FOX FUSS WAS ABOUT?

I didn't notice the Katharine Heigl moment, but in my Emmy post below, I referenced the cutaways Fox made from both Ray Romano and Sally Field while asking why the producers couldn't have figured out a more elegant solution.

And what was it that caused the Emmy producers and/or Fox censors to jump on that button? What was the salty language that would have caused such an uproar?

Well, according to The Hollywood Reporter ...

Ray Romano said "screwed," as in "screwed my wife."

Sally Field said, "goddamned" as in "there would be no goddamned wars in the first place."

Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME? This is the country in which we live? These are the sensitivities to which we have to succumb? FUCK YOU Fox and Rupert Murdoch! FUCK YOU FCC for causing this kind of panic to which the word "screwed" and the implication of sex has to be bleeped or cut out of a live broadcast. (This is going to get this blog censored from half of your workplaces, I'm sure.) The Republicans are all concerned about the free speech issues involved with campaign finance reform that allows them (as well as the Dems, to be fair) to buy their ways into elective office, but their sure as hell going to continue to make sure that broadcasters don't get away with any dirty words ... like "screwed." Or "goddamn" ... my how that might have melted the brains of so many of the devoted in our nation. The Lord's name in vain, etc. etc.

Personally, I found the lame-ass Wayne Brady/Rainn Wilson/Kanye West promotion of Don't Forget the Lyrics (a show I actually kind of like) far more offensive than anything Sally Field said. Why didn't you bleep that you assholes? Or just cut it out all together so that the show would have lost five of its 15 minute runover right there.

Reading this actually made me glad that this year's Emmys appear to have been the lowest rated in the prime 18-49 demo ever and lowest in total viewers in nearly 20 years.

EMMY QUICK BITES: MULTIPLE THOUGHTS IN THE IMMEDIATE AFTERMATH

It's nothing new to say that the Emmys as a show generally sucked, and although this year actually had a few great moments, overall, there was a lot to be wanting both in the show itself and several of the award choices. After three hours and 15 minutes of that crap (OK, I watched it on delay, fast-forwarding through the commercials -- sorry Fox -- so it was probably more like 2:45), I don't know that I have the patience to actually write that much. So with that in mind:

ANCHORWOMAN: WHY DID THEY EVEN BOTHER?

For weeks, Fox had been pimping their "new summer series" Anchorwoman. It wasn't even until this week that I realized it was a reality show and not a bad summer sitcom. Not that it would have mattered to me: I would have watched it either way, and had it been a good reality show, I would have loved it.

Instead, the one hour premiere (occupying the time slot of the recently concluded great So You Think You Can Dance) was, in fact, two 30 minute episodes, the first of which was so relatively trite, unimaginative and sleep-inducing that I couldn't make it more than 10 minutes into the second episode before I finally said to myself, "Why am I bothering?"

So, the news yesterday that the show was "canceled after one airing" came as no surprise, and really, it shouldn't have been one to Fox either. There was absolutely nothing interesting about this show. There certainly was nothing new in either the situation or the "characters." I think what bugged me the most was the simple fact that here is your typical fish-out-of-water story where all of the "real" journalists on the show are all up-in-arms about how having this blonde, leggy spokesmodel join their station as an anchor will damage their journalistic integrity, and yet, none of them seemed to have any issue participating in this program, which I would find much more troublesome if I was judging their professional chops. The worst of the lot is the other female anchor/writer/producer who is obviously meant to be the prime antagonist (albeit, not necessarily a "villain') because she's the one hemming and hawing and shocked and awed and mouth-gaping the most. And yet, not once was her face blurred onscreen to mask her identity.

Whatever ... the worst part is just that it was bad, not funny, not clever, not interesting and really a prime example of why all reality TV gets such a bad rap. Good riddance.

DIVO ALERT - JEKYLL: ONE OF THE BEST SHOWS YOU'RE PROBABLY NOT WATCHING

For anyone who thinks that this summer has presented a dearth of good television, you a) must not have actually been watching and, maybe more importantly b) definitely haven't been watching BBC America (Channel 106 on Time Warner cable.)

Among the several series I've been following on the Brit-caster is also one of the all-around best series I've seen this year: Jekyll is a modern reimagination -- a bit like a sequel, really -- of the classic "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" story. It's a sequel because it imagines a world where the Robert Louis Stevenson novel was actually based on fact, and our main character -- Dr. Tom Jackman played brilliantly by UK TV star James Nesbitt -- is mysteriously a direct descendant who shares a certain quality with his ancestor.

Nesbitt's portrayals of both Jackman and "Hyde" are simply some of the best acting you'll see anywhere onscreen. Additionally, if you're like to stare at the stunning Michelle Ryan before she turns in to Jamie Sommers in the new Bionic Woman, here's an opportunity as she plays Jackman's assistant utilizing her natural British accent.

But the best reason to watch Jekyll is to see the creative and imaginative way Steven Moffat -- one of the best writers and show-runners working in British television, having also created their original version of Coupling as well as writing some of the best episodes of the new Doctor Who -- navigates this territory.

The show in its current state is actually more of a mini-series with only six hours worth of episodes. The final two hours air this Saturday night at 8 PM (repeated at 11), and originally, BBC America had a full marathon of the show leading up to the finale. Those first four hours are riveting, and I'm not sure why the channel changed its schedule so that they're only showing hour four before the finale. But you should be able to still catch the first three episodes via BBC On Demand (channel 1011 on Time Warner), and I highly suggest you watch. Or, if you miss it, you can always Netflix it when the 2 disc DVD set comes out in about a month.

It doesn't look like the series will continue beyond the original six, which -- although I haven't seen the finale and have no idea whether or not it would make sense to go on -- I would love to see. The creator and star are busy enough with all kinds of other projects, apparently, and according to The Guardian's TV blog, Moffat is already quashing rumors that Nesbitt will be the next incarnation of The Doctor following the end of David Tennant's reign in Doctor Who. Whatever. British television is a whole different world from ours, and much of it is tremendous. But if you want to see some of the cream of the crop, check-out Jekyll.