Television Of The Weak: When It Comes To Bullshit, They've Forgotten What You Haven't Learned Yet

This week, we've got The Goode Family, The Mighty Boosh, Aqua Teen Hunger Force, The Apprentice UK, Wallander, Breaking Bad & Martin Brown's look back at Lie To Me.

The Goode Family: "Pilot" by Matthew J. Brady

If you've watched King of the Hill, you probably know that Mike Judge does a good job of walking the line between mocking segments of society and sentimentalizing them; Hank Hill might be a redneck stereotype, but he's usually the voice of wisdom on the show, battling against both fundamentalist assholes and in-your-face radical progressives. That's what makes the show worthwhile: humanity. And that track record is what makes The Goode Family worthy of being on the radar; the concept of a wacko environmentalist, socio-liberal family could get ridiculously tiresome within a few minutes in just about any other hands.

Luckily, Judge seems to be walking that same line here; while the titular family does have their obnoxious, look-at-these-idiots quirks (the mom uttering the phrase "WWALG; What would Al Gore do?" probably being the worst), they're played as people who want to do the right thing who get a bit overly concerned about things like racial sensitivity and conservation. The mom especially seems to fall into the role of the bumbling do-gooder; her exuberance seems to come as much from keeping-up-with-the-Joneses-style social conformity as anything, as we see when she is mortified to be caught shopping at a Whole Foods stand-in without a reusable shopping bag. She also powers the main plot of this episode, when she tries to show that she's close with her teenage daughter by encouraging her to learn about safe sex, to the point of sharing embarrassing details and talking loudly about condoms and such with the people manning informational booths at the local college. The daughter elects to show some rebellion by joining the abstinence league, but she ends up taking her dad to a purity ball, causing them both to freak out when they get roped into a weird ceremony involving what looks like marriage between parent and child.

It's pretty funny, and given that this is a pilot, it will probably become even more so as the series progresses. Judge is good at hitting the details (one of the highlights of the episode is the backstory of family's adopted son Ubuntu; he's an African orphan, but from South Africa, so he's the whitest member of the cast. The dad still insists that his driver's license list his race as "African-American" though) and throwing in plenty of jokes both at the family's and others' expense, while still lending relatability to the characters. It's not bad at all (Tucker promised me a poke in the eye if I say it's Goode), and hopefully it will get even better.

The Mighty Boosh: "Killeroo" by Sean Witzke

"These are the same track suits that Carlos Santana used to train for Woodstock!"

The pilot! Sadly, like 75% of all televisions shows (and 99% of British comedies) the pilot is stupid and tone-deaf. Sure, there's a spark there. The ideas that make the Boosh special - two guys who are clearly best friends who only talk to each other via endless complex insults, stupid costumes, druggy kids-tv aesthetic, out-of-nowhere songs, and Bob Fossil - they're all here. But they don't gel in a meaningful way.

I think I might have figured out the reason for the delay of this episode, and possibly the entire first season. Because the pilot actually has a needle drop of 10cc's "Dreadlock Holiday" and [Adult Swim] has a history of bailing on clearing song rights. They even cut the callback to this scene in season 3. Of course it's essential, Bob Fossil doing a long choreographed dance to the song until stopping right before the chorus and saying "And that's why I don't like cricket".

Some of the show's only direct film references are in here - it's kind of strange that these guys ever felt the need to reference anything beyond their own specific internal world. So The Kangaroo coming out of the box like Jurassic Park and Howard's boxing recalling both Raging Bull and Rocky.

What they cut: the opening monologue, ruining the callback of Vince's ridiculous hat(s) in the episode, the second of three pocket cup jokes, though the third one is still in, Jimmy the Reach gloating over Howard's unconscious body. That's about it. We do finally get to see Howard and Vince in front of the curtain for about ten second at the end of this episode. Howard's Lament at being an outcast, which is the first and possibly least memorable cut in the span of the show. There's really nothing cut that can't be explained as cutting for time. Two of the three musical sequences are here, and they are in their entirety. Vince's musical dream sequence, full of innuendo about balls, is here and whole.

Howard is a nerdy weakling, who thinks he's a poet. Vince is a trendy idiot. Naboo is baked out of his mind. Bob Fossil is a dancing psychopath who runs a zoo and doesn't know anything about animals. It's nothing new, and while the characters don't really change much spending time with them becomes most of the fun of the second and third seasons. That, and these guys were really just coming to terms with the format and they really found their stride with "Tundra". It's rough but there's enough there that the show kept me interested, mostly on the strength of Howard and Vince's conversations. The thing I've been complaining about this whole time - about the show being run in order - the biggest problem with that would be how poor this episode is.

But anyway, biggest laugh of the episode = a grown man punching a small child in the face full force. Can't ruin that, no matter how much you try.

Breaking Bad: "ABQ" by Tucker & Nina Stone

Tucker: What Walter did in that bedroom was murder, no matter how you slice it.

Nina: No it wasn't. Jane took the heroin. Her problem.

Tucker: You are a monster.

The Factual Opinion nearly came to blows over this one, but that's the way it rolls sometimes. Either way, Breaking Bad was a show that neither of us had seen until May 10th, and as of this past Sunday's "ABQ", we're all caught up, without a second missed. If there's a show with better acting than Breaking Bad on television right now, neither of us have seen it, and if there's another show that looks to carry the mantle of throat-clenched anxiety-producing drama that ended with last years "Family Meeting" episode of The Shield, neither of us have seen that either. There isn't enough space to sing this show's praises, and god knows we wish we could have agreed on who got to write it up. Vince Gilligan and Bryan Cranston have created one of the strongest examples of why the still-breathing distinction laid on television as a "lesser" form of art is complete and utter bullshit. We're six months into 2009, and there isn't a film we can name that had half the excellence of these 13 episodes of television. The hype surrounding this show? 

It's well deserved.

Aqua Teen Hunger Force: "Last Last One Forever and Ever" by Sean Witzke

Finally, the long-awaited live action Aqua Teen episode, starring T-Pain, H. Jon Benjamin, a yoga ball, and a Carl-lookalike contest winner. This was going to be the final Aqua Teen episode ever, but the series got renewed.

So... what the fuck was that?

It wasn't conventionally stupid, like you'd expect. It wasn't the kind of blatant, "get me fired" crap that the show has pulled in the past. Like "Dickisode". ATHF gets sold as "stoner humor" more often than not, but it's not really. The Boosh is stoner humor, it's pleasant and trippy and funny. ATHF is pretty blatant about showing it's characters to be unlikeable, personalities shifting, its plots non-existent, its continuity and therefore death meaningless. It's fucking dadism. Like a a lot of great comedy this decade (The Office, Arrested Development, South Park, Step Brothers), the show is obsessed with how pointless modern life is. The episodes traffic in the language of advertising tie-ins, classic rock, drug-seeking psychology, fast food, sci fi, slasher flicks, satanism, videogames; it's all played the same way.These idiots have nothing to do and they're going to stand here and bicker while weird things happen.

Benjamin and T-Pain are inspired choices, specifically because neither of them attempt to ape their animated counterparts performances (possibly because both have appeared on the show before). Benjamin, as always, presents a character that only he could play, getting crazy depth out of rambling conversations about nothing. T-Pain just comes off as a dismissive dick whose voice occasionally slips into autotune. Like I assume he does in real life. Man, I love T-Pain. Dude's a genius.

I think "Last Last One Forever and Ever" is Dave Willis and Matt Maiellaro deconstructing it even further. The plot of the live action episode is that H. Jon Benjamin's "Don Shake" is a terrible, possibly schizophrenic, writer who's been writing the ATHF show this entire time. He lives with T-Pain, who is going to kick him out because he's living in his place rent-free. He works for Carl (played by a non-actor), who tells him his script is missing boobs and some lesbos. He plays with a samurai sword and hallucinates that an excercise ball is telling him to kill T-Pain in Dave Willis' Meatwad voice. The episode opens and closes with animated clips that are apparently from H. Jon Benjamin's stories - the cast catching on fire when they drink water, the entire East Coast exploding, Carl saying "They truly were an aqua teen hunger force" as Shake, Frylock, and Meatwad drive a moving van away. It's all perfunctory but it's also the base elements of what you expect from a series finale. you want everyone to die screaming in flames or you want heartfelt pap to make you smile as the characters physically leave. It's bullshit. It's all bullshit, in the live action world everything is even more pointless. It's not even visually interesting anymore. It's just three guys and a rubber ball, doing absolutely nothing. T-Pain gives Benjamin some shit. Carl makes a lewd remark. Benjamin goes to chop T-Pain in half with a samurai sword but doesn't. The episode ends. There's no reason for anything. There's no reason for it to exist.

I think this episode is about writing Aqua Teen Hunger Force.

Wallander: "One Step Behind" by Tucker Stone

While I wouldn't say that watching all three parts of the Wallander movie series has been a waste of time, I'm not sure that it's something I'd recommend if you have read the books, or have any desire too. If you want to see Kenneth Branagh have an occasional good scene, usually where he reacts to something horrible with well-played shock, or if you just like it when people cry about sad things, this might be up your alley. But it's not much of a mystery, the music is a bit much, and the stories themselves are just truncated beyond recognition. That's not to say that One Step Behind was horrible--it's got some striking moments, and the final scene played out almost as tensely as the same scene played out in the book--but the truth is that this wasn't one of those BBC mini-series that you'll file alongside The Office or Spooks as something you enjoyed on its own merits. It's well-acted, it's well-shot, and it's really fucking serious. But it's just as disposable as the other 700 or so versions of the same kind of detective dramas that BBC churns out by the truckload. If the Branagh flavor of Bisquick is your type of gut-filler, than you'll probably disagree. But you'll have a hard time convincing a Miss Marple fan that her choice has any less value. After all: Marple can work a doily.

The Real Housewives of New Jersey: "Not One Of Us" by Nina Stone

I can't say that I feel edified.

The show would not be interesting without Danielle Staub. And yet? I can't stand her. But without her, we'd be watching a show about a group of related-by-marriage-or-blood housewives dealing with life stuff - who happen to live in complete luxury. But on the whole, they're pretty normal. They love their kids. They want nice things (and get them.) Sure, they have their quirks. (Are alleged Mafia ties quirks?) But basically and dramatically, the show needs one good antagonist for anything to happen. So that's what Danielle is for.

Here's the thing about her, and all reality show antagonists like her: we've all known a person like her. High drama, overly sensitive, and nonsensical. Someone who antagonizes every other person on the show, either directly or indirectly. She's what I call a "pot stirrer." Takes on responsibility for everybodies actions around her, past or present, all while behaving as if she is the victim. Oy.

It's kind of hilarious and entertaining on a separate level that in her quest to prove herself to be otherwise that she consistently damns her own character. And this week, somehow, someway, a book about her past has been uncovered. I bet the whole world - or at least the people who watch that show - are googling Cop Without a Badge. Apparently the book contains her mug shot and says that she was arrested for kidnapping, prostitution and a bunch of other stuff. At the end of this episode she's saying things like, "if people would just come to her" she would have told them all about it. UM. No. No she wouldn't. Kidnapping? Prostitution? Those aren't cool lady's crimes. Those are tres sleazy.

She seems to be suffering from the same predicament that Kelly (Kelli?) from the Real Housewives of New York suffered. (Suffering is their word, not mine.) They think that doing a reality show is somehow going to be a clean slate, good publicity and help get them where they want to go. And I honestly don't know if it's the editing or if it's just impossible to hide your true nature on TV. It's not really the actions that we see these people taking that damn them....it's their "confessionals" and explanations that are disjointed, nonsensical and psychotic that begin to show us all who they truly are.

So, you know, it makes good TV. I guess. But the whole thing makes me want to shut off my TV and go for a nice tranquil walk.

Until next week, I guess. We'll see if I can keep this up or not.

Lie to Me: “Sacrifice,” “Undercover” by Martin Brown

In service of checking out some of the shows renewed for the fall that we weren’t already familiar with, last week TV of the Weak took its inaugural look at Fox’s Bones. It wasn’t pretty. This week, we check out a couple of episodes of Fox’s other procedural government agent show, Lie to Me. Starring Tim Roth as Dr. Cal Lightman—along with Gil Grissom, Jack Malone, and how about Cyrus Lupo, all names that make me think that there’s one guy with a procedural character name generator somewhere, and he’s freelancing with every network—an expert on facial expressions and body language, who leads a team of… other experts in solving crimes. It’s difficult to talk about Lie to Me without comparing it to the similarly premised The Mentalist on CBS, which also features a quirky character actor playing someone who has special powers to know when you’re lying, and use that to disarm their suspects in kooky ways. There are some nuanced differences—i.e., The Mentalist’s Patrick Jane doesn’t lead the team, he merely assists it—but it’s pretty much the same show.

The major difference between Lie to Me and The Mentalist is tone. The Mentalist has a looser, self-reflexive air about it—it’s stuck somewhere between CSI and Psych—so that it’s not above goofing around and making a really awful joke here and there. The quality of The Mentalist is all over the place, ranging from truly horrendous (the episode where it turns out that all the female members of a country club are painkiller addicts and dealers) to surprisingly effective (the bizarre, suspenseful season closer.) Lie to Me takes the other route—where The Mentalist will allow its scenes to stretch out, fascinated with the psychological interplay between Jane and whomever he’s talking to, Lie to Me moves briskly and curtly from one scene to another, revealing little in the way of character development. The Mentalist is both a procedural and a character study; Lie to Me simply jacks Law & Order’s steez and adds cross-episode arcs and some negligible romance. It also steals some of Law & Order’s formulas, like introducing a tertiary character with one brief scene before ultimately revealing him or her as the villain, so it’s pretty easy to get ahead of. In the end, however, it does exactly what it sets out to do—introduces a crime and solves it entertainingly, if not always satisfyingly. It’s as comforting as comfort television should be, but not all that much fun.

The Apprentice UK: "Week Six" by Tucker Stone

This week's challenge opens with a ringing phone. Did I mention last week that Sebastian looks like a slave owner? I don't know what that means, and I realize it's offensive, but every time I look at Sebastian, I expect him to say that he owns slaves.

Anyway, both teams are stuck coming up with an ad campaign for some kind of fucking boombox, and while it's a snooze-and-a-half watching these uncreative dipshits come up with an ad campaign, I was struck by two things: first up, that the product was a Goddamn Boom Box, and Nobody Gives A Shit About Boomboxes, even less so when they can hold "ten cd's", and second off, that Sir Alan Sugar should know better than to let his idiot son run a company that sells things like CD BOOMBOXES. I realize this show is a bit dated, and that they're on season 17 in the UK, but for fuck's sake. CD players? Why not try to sell a fancy VCR while you're at it, or maybe a global branding campaign for phone books? Awesomely enough, one of the guest judges totally agrees. When he is supposed to be doling out hints and tips to the teams, he instead glances at the boombox and says "It looks cheap. It looks tacky. I guess that's the point. Ten cds instead of six? Who gives a toss?" The teams, as arrogant as can be expected, wander off after sighing at how sad it must be to not immediately see the awesomeness of a CD player that holds ten CD's. 

After way too long, the teams produce some really shitty commercials, an even worse print campaign, and Rachel whips out a fucking 3rd grade collage board. You know one of those things where you clip pictures from magazines and call it inspiration? Yes. One of those. One of the pictures she clips is the cover art from Super Size Me. Okay, without playing "I know better" too much, let me tell you something: when pitching a campaign, if you've got the cover art to Super Size Me, and you refer to that art as being inspirational in anyway, You Don't Know What The Fuck You Are Doing. Unless you are ten. And in Social Studies class. And even then, you probably suck pretty hard at life.

The boardroom is the best it's been so far, but that's only because Paul--project manager for the losing team--directly tells Sir Alan Sugar that he wants to know why his team lost. Sugar, as surprised as anybody, doesn't hold back. He concisely eviscerates every part of their project, tells Saira she talks too much (a theme for the episode, as that same complaint is mentioned to her by three other people with no prompting), only going into adjectives and cruelty when it comes time to toss Rachel's dumb-as-fuck "mood board" across the table. Despite Saira's miserable failings as both team member and human being, she survives due to her loudmouth presence. Rachel takes the fall. She leaves her pictures behind.

-Matthew J. Brady, Sean Witzke, Martin Brown, Tucker & Nina Stone, 2009

Comments

[Chris Jones]

I couldn't tell if you liked the Aqua Teen episode or not. I THINK you did, but I'm not positive.

I thought it was the best of a crappy season, personally.

[Matthew J. Brady]

My wife likes Lie to Me, although I'm not sure why; I think she likes the way they describe the emotions that they read in people's expressions. And that's kind of interesting the first couple times, but after about two episodes that I only half-watched, I got pretty tired of "well, you said this, but the way your eyes squinted and your mouth creased at the edges indicates suspiciousness, you lying bastard". It doesn't seem like a bad procedural though, if you're into that sort of thing. The other bit that bothers me (and Sarah, for that matter) is the way each episode has to have a supposedly intense, emotional scene in which somebody confesses their guilt, or explains why they lied, or just hams it up in general because the show has hit the 40 minute mark and it's time to wrap things up. It's not limited to this show either; Castle does it too, and I'm sure it's a staple of these things. It's damn tiresome though, an obvious attempt to wring drama out of the situation. It's probably why I get tired of these things so quickly. Eh, I need to watch Breaking Bad or something, that will satisfy my needs. To Netflix!

[Tucker Stone]

The classic thing with procedurals--gotta have those big wrenching scenes for the guest stars.

I was listening to Felicity Huffman talk once, and she said tv acting breaks down like this: if you're a guy, get ready to have a lot of fun doing all kinds of different scenes. If you're a girl, learn to cry on cue or choose a different profession. Because that's all 1-hour dramas have to offer.

[Marty]

Yeah, I watched a couple more episodes after the initial two, and I may have underrated Lie to Me. It's definitely got all the procedural tropes, but maybe just a little bit smarter than most of them. In retrospect, it's pretty amazing how well Law & Order consistently subverted expectations and formula in its first 7 or 8 years--before CSI came along and it started to bend toward more sensationalistic stuff.

Anyway, my favorite part of Lie to Me so far is when they have a still frame of one of the characters smirking and--for no apparent reason--place it in between pictures of Dick Cheney and Joe Biden.

[Chad Nevett]

Lie to Me was scheduled opposite Life, so I only managed to catch an episode here and there, and I wasn't that impressed. Considering that the premise allowed for a lot more flexibility in plots and structure, it was kind of sad that they did a lot of murder mysteries and followed the typical procedural structure. Then again, that was just in the episodes I saw, so it could have gotten better...

[Matthew J. Brady]

Marty: my wife likes that too, especially when they point out how a character is making a face that shows they're lying, then cut to, say, OJ Simpson making the same face. At least, that's the intent; maybe they ran out of all the famous liars and are doing approximations now, so it's harder to tell.

[Sean Witzke]

Chris - I did, but I realized what they were doing. It's kind of them telling you "you're an asshole for liking this" in a really brilliant way.

[mr. rendon]

Lie to Me dropped off my radar after the pilot, and I don't really have a good excuse why. Let's look in the excuse bag...hmmm..oh...I share DVR time with my wife and it conflicted with blahbittyblah...

Anyway, I thought the show had a lot of potential if it dealt with morality. Not in the Law and Order way where it was all on the viewer, but within the character/s. As in, "What if there was this superhero who could tell if anyone was lying? How would this affect his sense of morality? How would he make the world better/worse?" To which I would answer, "How come you couldn't get Heroes to go there, asshats?"

Anyway, yes I might pick this one up next year now that Life is gone ...(sniff).

[moose n squirrel]

"I think this episode is about writing Aqua Teen Hunger Force."

It really, really is. I was kind of really disappointed that the series didn't end with that episode - it was more or less perfect.