sit•com n. Informal
A situation comedy; a television comedy series involving a group of regular characters in everyday situations, often set in the home and/or workplace

For three seasons, Weeds was the very model of a modern pay-cable sitcom. Set in the fictional, cookie-cutter L.A. suburb Agrestic, it centered on widowed housewife-turned-pot dealer Nancy Botwin (played by goddess of stage and screen Mary Louise Parker) and her expansive circle of friends, family and…um…business associates, from her best customer Doug (Kevin Nealon) to her ambitious supplier/grower Conrad (Romany Malco). Neatly balancing Nancy’s dual roles as suburban soccer mom and dabbler in the seedy (no pun intended) world of illicit substances, Weeds was hilarious, sexy, sometimes even moving, and always good for a contact high. It also was (seemingly) confident in the one element that must, by definition, ground any situation comedy: its situation.

Beginning with last fall’s Season-Three closer, however, Weeds has audaciously – and, so far at least, disastrously – loosed itself from its sitcom moorings. Creator Jenji Kohan didn’t just shift the show’s setting; she burned the motherfucker down, destroying all of Agrestic’s “Little Boxes” in an inferno neatly tied to last year’s horrific California wildfires. Unfortunately, while most of the major characters survived the blaze, Kohan and the show’s writers seem to have left the funny behind along with the “MILFweed” in Nancy’s growhouse; as a result, Weeds has gone sadly (and with all apologies to Cheech & Chong) up in smoke. (more…)

Elvis Mitchell is one of the preeminent film critics and interviewers of our generation. Since 1996 his NPR radio show, The Treatment, has been a stomping ground for popular culture’s most talented and important individuals, where they can speak freely about their craft without the pressure of feeling like they’re “promoting” their work. Mitchell’s cool and laid-back style seems to place all of his guests at ease, including his listeners. It’s not just his ability to conduct an interview but his vast knowledge of information that makes him such a pleasure to listen to. In addition to The Treatment, Mitchell is also the entertainment critic for NPR’s Weekend Edition With Scott Simon, a job he’s held since the show’s debut in 1985. His extensive list of credits includes hosting Independent Focus for the Independent Film Channel, guest-hosting for Charlie Rose on several occasions, and a four-year stint as film critic for the New York Times, beginning in 2000.

Tonight at 8 PM ET (with a repeat at 10:30), Turner Classic Movies premieres Elvis Mitchell: Under the Influence, the network’s first interview program. In the first installment, taped last year, Mitchell talks with the late Sydney Pollack, and in coming weeks he sits down with Bill Murray, Laurence Fishburne, and Quentin Tarantino, among others, to discuss the art of filmmaking and just to listen to these craftsmen share their stories. More than your typical interview show, Under the Influence has the feel of overhearing a wonderful conversation in a restaurant or at a party, and therefore is a natural extension of Mitchell’s radio show. Whether you’re familiar with Elvis Mitchell or just being introduced to him, Under the Influence is a treat for fans of movies and those of us who simply enjoy an intelligent discussion between two knowledgeable people. I had the opportunity to speak to Mitchell via telephone in early June; throughout our conversation I found myself intently listening to him but at times forgetting that I was the one doing the interview. He has that way with people. Although he professed to being as nervous as the interviewee, it never came across that way.

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Can you feel it? I feel it. You know what I’m talking about – that sudden jolt, that shock that has surged through the American consciousness over the past three weeks? It’s not the Democrats nominating a black guy for president…who didn’t see that one coming? It’s not gays getting married in California…though I do distinctly sense my own marriage being undermined.

No, I’m talking about the recent revelation that, back in the ’70s, there were people with loose morals! Don’t take my word for it; the (vaguely titillating) evidence is right there on CBS (CBS?!?) every Thursday night at 10 on Swingtown, a show that’s a veritable smorgasbord of bell bottoms, Playboy Club parties, soft rock, and archetypal placeholders that so far occupy the space where real characters should be.

There’s Grant Show, who already made the ’90s safe for promiscuity on Melrose Place, as an airline pilot intent on bringing the Mile High Club down to earth. There’s Jack Davenport, the onetime backbone of the awesome British sex-romp Coupling who wasn’t much of a swordsman (ahem) in the Pirates of the Caribbean flicks, as a family man struggling with the sexual revolution and his American accent.

There’s Molly Parker, who first gained notice playing a necrophile (necrophiliac?) in the Candian indie film Kissed, as a homemaker straddling ’50s suburban mores and the swingin’ ’70s. (It seems clear she’ll be straddling other things in the coming weeks, but that’s another story.) And then there’s the gorgeous Lana Parrilla, late of 24 and the short-lived Windfall, as Show’s absurdly hot-to-trot wife who takes a practically evangelical approach to the recruitment and seduction of swinger wannabes.

It’s the bicentennial summer of ’76, and Davenport and Parker, thanks to some financial good fortune, have moved “only five minutes away” from their conservative Chicago neighborhood and their dowdy friends into a den of iniquity filled with wife-swappers, slutty divorcees, and perhaps even some nascent teen homosexuality. (Only on TV could changing neighborhoods seem like time travel – but then, Swingtown producers Mike Kelley and Alan Poul told the New York Times that they envisioned the show as the bastard child of Boogie Nights and The Wonder Years, and if that’s possible then I guess anything is.) Here’s a humorous sneak peek: (more…)

I was supposed to write a column about several reality shows airing this summer, and I had good intentions of doing just that. But the only reality I know right now is that I’m an addict … to Lost. I must find out what happens to the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815, which departed Sydney, Australia, for Los Angeles, California, on September 24, 2004, and crashed on an uncharted island.

It began as a curiosity. See, I was over at ABC.com, doing research for my Three Strikes column on Brothers & Sisters. All I wanted was a jpeg, you know? Honest, this was the only reason I was even near the site. Then I saw an option: “Full Episodes.” I mean, what could it hurt to check and see what they were streaming, right? Maybe… maybe they had unaired episodes of Cavemen, I liked that show. I did; really, I’m not making this up! Clicking that link was like finding a private room at some teenage suburban party where all of the “good” kids are drinking smuggled beers in the living room and the “cool” kids are doing something else away from the crowd.

I’d decided long ago that I wasn’t going to get caught up in the Lost hysteria. After I missed most of the first season, I thought there was no way to catch up. Sure, the DVD’s are available to rent, but I wasn’t going to waste one of the entries of my Netflix queue with Lost, not when I had 300 movies to get through. And after two seasons, I stopped caring. I thought, “Come on, can it really be as good as Deadwood, Veronica Mars or Friday Night Lights. Was Lost even close to the caliber of The Sopranos?” I scoffed at the notion. But Abc.com… damn you ABC! It taunted me… “Lost Season 1 in streaming HD.” HD? C’mon, it can’t be that good. I reasoned with myself, “Look, just this one episode. I’ll watch the pilot and be able to claim I’ve seen Lost. Then, back to my life.”

My life. Ha! I have no life! Two hours after watching the pilot, I was hooked. (more…)

Katie Couric is sexy. I’ll give you all a moment to digest that.

Aaaaaaaand … scene.

I’m not kidding here. I find Miss Couric genuinely attractive and, to add to that, I think that is the primary stumbling block for her turn as anchor of the CBS Evening News. To understand where we are, we need to remember an important detail. From the beginning of news dispersion, from radio to the infancy of television to the Golden Age of Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite, this has been a patriarchy, a game run by men of age and experience with that commanding “Voice of God” presence. It is a role the networks have been only too happy to fill, even if the distinguished gentlemen taking the spotlight weren’t the most qualified to serve. They looked and sounded the part. That was enough.

In an effort to energize their sagging news division, CBS put their faith and a large amount of prestige behind Couric, going 180 degrees away from the standard. Since then it has been nothing less than a death-clock countdown to her stay there and, really, that is unfair. Yes, the viewership has moved to other networks and other anchors — male anchors who can wear the suit and sound appropriately authoritarian — but most of these viewers probably get the bulk of their news from old media anyhow. Network news and, in shockingly severe numbers, newspapers have been losing eyes to cable news outlets and the catch-as-catch-can speed of the Internet. The exodus from Couric, while partly due to this gender shock, is more about the waning relevance of these organizations. (more…)

TBS begins their summer of comedy this Thursday night (6/12/08) with the second season premieres of The Bill Engvall Show (9:00 PM) and My Boys(9:30 PM).

The Bill Engvall Show is the more traditional of the two sitcoms, and by traditional, I mean there’s nothing new here. In the show, Engvall, the popular stand up famous for his “blue collar,” plays Bill Pearson, a family counselor who can’t always figure out his own family. His typical sitcom nuclear family includes a smart, beautiful wife, played by the underrated Nancy Travis, and three very different children: An older, headstrong teenage girl played by Jennifer Lawrence, a space cadet teenage son played by Graham Patrick Martin, and a brainy, mature tween son played by Skyler Gisondo. In addition, Tim Meadows is on hand as Engvall’s best friend, Paul. Paul is a renowned hair-replacement specialist who is treated like part of the Pearson family. He likes to look good, but he’s unlucky in love.

As an added treat, Brian Doyle Murray shows up on occasion as the Pearson’s cranky neighbor. The plots of the The Bill Engvall Show are something you’ve seen thousands of times. So why watch it? For one, Travis is wonderful, and her scenes opposite Engvall ring true of a real marriage. Engvall may not be the best actor in the world, but he has good comic timing, and his interplay with Travis is fun to watch. Moreover, he and Meadows seem to have a real bond, and play off each other quite well. In general, the best-played scenes take place between the adult characters, whereas the scenes with the children are overly predictable. Still, despite the predictability of The Bill Engvall Show, the creators’ intent from the beginning was to create a “traditional family sitcom,” and they have succeeded in doing just that. In truth, this is the perfect type of show for summer viewing: not much required from you as a viewer and just enough laughs to go down with your beer.

I must admit that I turned off My Boys during its inaugural season. There was a bevy of hype surrounding the show, and it was praised by many critics as one of the best comedies on television; unfortunately, for me, it was originally paired with 10 Items or Less, a series that put me on the floor with laughter. Whenever My Boys came on, I found it nice, but not the greatest comedy since Arrested Development. Thus, when asked to review the upcoming second season, I tried to approach the show with an open mind, even though I feared hating it. (more…)

USA Network’s latest in a successful slate of summertime programs is In Plain Sight (premiering 6/1/08 and airing Sundays, 10 PM). The series stars Mary McCormack as Mary Shannon, a federal marshal for the Federal Witness Protection Program. The show takes place primarily in the Albuquerque/Santa Fe area, where Shannon is based. McCormack is a fine actress whose most visible role is still that of Alison Stern, the wife to Howard Stern in the 1997 film, Private Parts. Since then, she has appeared in a number of indie movies, as well as excellent supporting roles in such television series like Murder One, The West Wing, ER, K-Street and the exceptional 2004 USA Network mini-series, Traffic. It’s great to see McCormack the lead in a series that blends comedy, drama and mystery; she makes the show worth checking out.

In Plain Sight joins the ranks of TNT’s The Closer and Saving Grace as another series about a strong female lead who must juggle the strenuous requirements of her law enforcement job with the daily struggles of her daily life. McCormack’s Shannon character is much closer to Kyra Sedgwick’s quirky Deputy Chief Johnson than the human train wreck Holly Hunter portrays in Saving Grace. In Plain Sight does a good job of mixing the serious with the light comedy, much in the way Burn Notice, USA’s hit series from last summer, does very well. That said, this new series isn’t reinventing the procedural drama, nor do I think they’re trying to. The unique setup of the Witness Protection Program allows for secondary characters (i.e. each weeks guest stars) to represent each episode’s main storyline. These characters come in, tell their story, and are gone by hour’s end. Meanwhile, the supporting cast of people in Shannon’s life serves as the background stories that connect each episode together. Like I said, this is a tried and true formula. So it’s up to the writers to come up with compelling stories and interesting characters to keep us coming back on a weekly basis. For the most part, they succeed. By the third episode, the series began to show the actors gelling and everything coming together. In truth, it will be the likeability of the characters that will bring you back each week, and the producers rounded up a fine group of actors to do just that.

The supporting characters include Shannon’s partner, Marshall (Frederick Weller), a young, cocky pretty boy who, despite a caseload of his own, is always quick to help our Shannon. Weller does a lot of posturing throughout the early episodes; however, the banter between his Marshall and McCormack’s Shannon is fun to watch. Stan McQueen (Paul Ben-Victor) plays their chief inspector. I didn’t get a real sense of his character, although he spent the first few episodes exasperated by Shannon and her methods. On the home front, there is Shannon’s live in mother, Jinx, played by the wonderfully loopy Lesley Ann-Warren (who doesn’t get enough juicy roles, these days); Shannon’s on-again/off-again boyfriend, Raphael, portrayed by recent Dancing with the Stars contestant Cristián de la Fuente, and her floozy sister, Brandi, (Nicole Hiltz) who has dropped into town unexpectedly for an extended visit. Brandi has a no-good boyfriend who is destined to bring big trouble into the life of Shannon and her family. (more…)

So here we are at the end of another cycle of Fox’s juggernaut, American Idol. For seven seasons, the televised talent show has been the thorn in the side of every network and the scorn of “real” music fans. I’ll admit it, I watch the show. I enjoy hearing these contestants trying to make it big, and it is one of the few programs my family can watch together. Even “family” shows, these days deal with issues that are a little to mature for a six- and nine-year-old. This year, the show that gave us the likes of Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood and Chris Daughtry (and cursed us with Taylor Hicks and Clay Aiken) has seen its ratings suffer a blow. Was it fallout from the recent writers’ strike that also ate away at the ratings for so many other primetime series? Or was it something else? Although American Idol will finish the year the number one-rated show, giving Fox another season win in the ratings war, I believe viewers got a stale taste in their mouths.

The show suffered from several setbacks early on, starting with the weeks of audition episodes that seemed to drag on like they would never end. We get it, hundreds of thousands of people auditioned and the poor, overpaid judges had to suffer through innumerable bad auditions. Boo hoo. Here’s something I don’t get. If only the most talented singers are supposed to get through the door to meet Randy, Paula and Simon, how come we end up seeing so many shitty vocalists? Sure, one or two might be good for a laugh, but it gets old really fast. A smart thing to do would be to pare down these audition episodes to a two-hour special and then get on with it. Another problem the show had was its bloated Wednesday night episodes that are supposed to serve notice to the person going home that week. Instead of announcing the loser in one half hour segment, we were subjected to live question-and-answer portions via the Internet. People don’t care whether Simon and Paula really hate each other, or if one of the contestants is single. We just want to hear them sing. (more…)

This past Thursday NBC unceremoniously said goodbye to the medical sitcom Scrubs after seven seasons. The series, which introduced Zach Braff to most of the world (before he moped his way through Garden State), gave John C. McGinley the fame he so well deserves, and resurrected the career of Sarah Chalke, has been a critical darling since it went on the air in 2001. For a brief time, it gained a mass audience — that is, until NBC began shuffling its time slots. Pretty soon, that mass audience became a small, loyal group of fans. Seriously, when are executives going to learn that people follow routines when they watch television? They are called viewing habits for a reason. When you move a show around two or three times, people are going to give up trying to find it, even if they do have a DVR. I do give NBC credit for keeping the show on the air for so long. Scrubs lost some of its charm as it evolved from a dramedy with some cartoonish elements into a silly sitcom trying to make us laugh every 30 seconds. By trying too hard for zaniness, the writing became inconsistent and predictable. This inconsistency was frustrating for those of us who latched on to the show in the early seasons.

This past winter, during the writers’ strike, NBC had the perfect opportunity to lure more viewers back into Sacred Heart Hospital; they promoted new episodes and aired them back to back. With nothing but reruns on the other channels, you’d think people would have tuned in. They didn’t. When NBC announced their new schedule for the coming year, Scrubs was … scrubbed. A couple weeks ago, NBC switched time slots between Scrubs and Tina Fey’s 30 Rock, giving the latter the choice placement behind The Office at 9:30 pm. When the season finale rolled around last week, there was little fanfare and little sentiment from the network. What a shame. Even if Scrubs wasn’t as great as it once was, it still deserved a nice sendoff after seven years.

However, fair viewers, this is not the end of the show. (more…)

Watching Tom Cruise appear on Oprah last week, I was surprised at how authentic he appeared. It reminded me of a conversation I had with a friend who did the makeup FX for Cruise on Collateral. We’ve all heard the tales of how Scientologists try to convert everyone they come in contact with, and I was prepared to hear horror stories of a whack job superstar trying to change my artistic friend into an L. Ron Hubbard clone. Instead, my friend told me that Cruise was really down to earth, and spent most of his time in the makeup chair discussing his kids and parenting. I was pleasantly surprised. This was also the impression I got from the intimate interview that took place between Winfrey and Cruise at his Colorado mansion.

The show began with the typical setups. Wife Katie Holmes just “happened” to be there to say hello, and then took off with the kids. Cruise gave Oprah a tour of the house. To that point, it felt like just another typical celebrity interview. Then they sat down in his living room (which looks out on the Colorado wilderness) and Winfrey began to ask him direct questions about the past three years. His crazy couch-jumping, his rants on television about Brooke Shields and antidepressants, his notorious interview with Matt Lauer, and that bizarre Scientology video that hit YouTube last year.

One has to presume that Cruise knew these questions were coming, but I was impressed that Winfrey did not let up when he merely gave answers like he was “misunderstood” and that his quotes about anti-depressants were actually aimed toward medicating children. Still, Cruise was humble, and for the first time in recent memory, he was not “on.” He spoke endearingly about his wife and especially his children and made a point to always include his older children, Isabella and Connor, in the conversation, even though Winfrey continually veered the discussion back to his two-year-old daughter, Suri. As a parent watching this, I was impressed with Cruise’s devotion to his family and his protectiveness.

We’ve all seen in the past couple years how the paparazzi can act like vultures, circling and waiting for something dreadful to happen. Over the years, with the Internet and channels like “E!” thriving on gossip, stars don’t have the luxury of calling off the attack dogs on certain nights. In fact, Cruise explained that he used to be able to actually have human conversations with photographers, asking them to ease off every now and then in exchange for pics the next night. Obviously that is not the case anymore. Still, he seems to have done a decent job of shielding his children from the spotlight and allowing them to grow up in a relatively normal way (if being the child of an international superstar spokesman for a little-understood religion can ever be normal). Furthermore, his protectiveness of his family, basically stating “come after me, but leave my kids alone,” was admirable. (more…)