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2007 TV SEASON
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'YEAR END CLARENCE PART 2'
The fog of holiday cheer has yet to budge. My editors remain AWOL, refusing even to return e-mail entreaties. I am left to fend for myself once more. Like Naked Lunch’s William Lee at war with a willful keyboard, I must soldier on, blindly flailing away in hopes of achieving some clarity or meaning to it all.
If memory serves (as it so rarely does), TV is this week’s topic. The good, the bad, the indifferent of 2007. Obviously the biggest story of the year has to be the writers’ strike that has shut down production of all scripted shows for nigh on two months or so. It seems union cohesion has been much stronger than the networks and producers had counted on. In turn, network and producer stridency in refusing to face the changing landscape of broadcast television has been equally as solid. (I’m sorry. Did my sympathies flash across the screen briefly?) Recent developments in the late night arena will put the resolve of both sides to the test and should serve as a reminder to all content creators. As soon as possible, grab control of your product. Like David Letterman, it’ll give you far more leeway and flexibility to run things as you see fit.
On screen, the series finale of The Sopranos was the big ticket item in `07. I know it’s been all the rage to poo-poo the uneven content quality of the show over the course of its run but seriously, can we give ourselves a collective shake here? Do you remember television pre-1999? Yeah, me neither. Sure. You had your Homicides and your X-Files.. but I clutch at straws after that. You think NYPD Blue was edgy? Try watching an episode now. You won’t believe how flat and lifeless it feels. The Sopranos (and its benevolent overlord, HBO) altered viewer expectations forever. If the show had crashed and burned in its infancy, series like Deadwood and The WireThe Sopranos at its lowest creative ebb put almost every other show to shame.
And about that abrupt series ending? I bought it, although initially I was like millions of others who thought their cable had cut out at the most inopportune time ever. (In our household there was some precedence for this as it’s a fairly regular occurrence with my satellite feed despite assurances that it shouldn’t be and money spent on trying to fix the problem. And another thing, unnamed satellite provider. How the hell is it I spend $80 a month for your service but still can’t see AMC’s Mad Men which, after The Sopranos series ender, was the most talked about show on TV in 2007? Huh?)
Breath and count to 10, Daren.
Anyway, as long as David Chase doesn’t go back to The Sopranos if his feature film career fails to pan out, I fully endorse how he closed the series. No matter how safe Tony Soprano feels or how high up the food chain he gets, there will never be any security, never any respite from looking over his shoulder. He will be destined to always wonder if this is the moment he won’t even hear the bullet coming. Just look at Phil Letardo. His death epitomized the series at its very best: gruesomely hysterical or hysterically gruesome. Take your pick.
In the confusion, despair and outrage left in the wake of The Sopranos ender, John From Cincinnati suffered mightily. Still reeling from what Chase and company had just put me through, I kept expecting someone to put a bullet in Bruce Greenwood or Luke Perry. It was a disorientation the show’s creator, David Milch, never really sought to alleviate. After about 3 episodes, I gave up worrying about it and happily settled into the flow. Strict narrative structures were ignored. Main characters disappeared for episodes at a time while others were introduced late in the game. None of it made a whole lot of sense and I didn’t care. I caught the wave, as it were, riding it right to the very incomprehensible end. You either got it and liked it or were absolutely put off by it. Compelling cases could be made for both sides.
As for you Deadwood diehards who boycotted John From Cincinnati and delighted in its quick demise, get over it already. Things change, people move on. If you truly think Deadwood was never fully finished, you weren’t looking closely enough. At its heart, the show was about capitalism. The wild west was “tamed” and modern America forged by crooks, cutthroats and thugs, and the biggest criminal of them all, the most amoral, George Hearst, won. C’est ça. Would I like to see more Deadwood? Absolutely. But I won’t feel personally cheated if I don’t.
No other hour long show left much of a mark this past year. Ugly Betty continued to amuse me. I tolerated the forced quirkiness of Pushing Up Daisies but I’m not sure how much more I could put up with. I marveled at Donald Sutherland’s hair in Dirty Sexy Money almost as much as I did at the show’s outrageous cheesiness. All else had the life expectancy of a fruit fly.
The gaping sitcom void left behind by the loss of Arrested Development a couple years ago was slowly being filled by the continued progress of 30 Rock and The Office. Alec Baldwin has certainly ceased control of the former and could threaten to capsize the ship, Fonzie style, but Tina Fey’s Liz Lemon has so far held her own. These two characters are slowly forming the funniest duo since.. well, you fill in your own personal blank with that. Tracy Morgan’s Tracy Jordan has the best non sequitors going at the moment. To whit, Jack: I have one word for you, Tracy. Surge. Tracy: That’s two words, Jack!
Aliens in America occasionally made me see some humour in the Muslim fish out of water premise that Little Mosque on the Prairie has yet to display. Other than that, primetime laughs stopped there for me in 2007. Apparently, Showtime and David Duchnovy thought he was really funny and sexy in Californication. I failed to see it after episode 1.
As is usually the case, another year in television concluded with few highlights and countless forgettables. Viewership for traditional broadcasters continued to decline for all the right reasons. Mostly because the executives treat us all like we’re 13 years old, and stupid 13 year-olds at that. But I’ll soldier on, content with the occasional golden bone I’m tossed like this week’s start to season 5 of HBO’s amazing The Wire, knowing full well that you’ll find me sobbing uncontrollably come late-March or early-April when the series ends its run, convinced that we’ll never see another show of its caliber again.
