The 2007-2008 Caruso Awards (The Miscellaneous)

At the risk of sounding like a misery guts, the last two weeks have been dominated by a distracting real life situation that has made it hard for me to concentrate on blogging, an activity that usually demands a stillness of the mind that can only be taught by some red-robed monk hidden from the world in the mountains of Tibet. Right now, I couldn't feel less tranquil, and so I've felt like slacking off. However, my blogger licence will be revoked if I don't post something every so often, even if it's low on content. So, here are extraneous awards for excellence (or not-excellence) over the past year of TV.

Best New Characters Of The Year

5. Dermott Fictel - The Venture Brothers

Seemingly the long-lost son of Brock Samson (and a mother whose face is being kept from us for now), Dermott Fictel is belligerent, ignorant, overly confident, and generally the brattiest person on TV all year. So why like him so much? For pushing Brock's buttons, and for being one of the most perfectly realised teenagers ever created. I have known so many arrogant dicks like Dermott, who profess to know all about martial arts and army training, and not just during childhood. Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer kinda tortured me by creating this character, who so resembles some of my least favourite people, but they got him so right I couldn't help but delight in seeing that personality type shown up so totally. And then, just to really make me happy, had him get beaten up by weedy Dean Venture, of all people. Just beautiful.

4. Miles Straum - Lost

He's a jerk who is rude to everyone, and he talks to ghosts. What's not to love? Ken Leung is already known to all Sopranos fans, but as we've yet to see it, the only thing I knew him from was X-Men: The Last Stand, where he played Porcupine Man or something. No matter. Straum turned up and was immediately rude to everyone, and then, not long after, talked to a ghost. It was love at first sight. That his character is so enjoyable on a surface level is one thing, but the hints that he knows more about the island show promise much revelation and bitchery to come. Of course, the writers' strike robbed us of a season four Miles flashback, but even though I'm desperate to know more about him, it has added to his mystique.

3. Livia Beale- Journeyman

When we first see the supposedly dead Livia, she is surprisingly confident, intelligent, attractive but not overly sexualised, and emotionally compex. I say surprisingly, because all too often female characters on TV are underwritten compared to their male counterparts. Things have obviously improved (I can think of numerous examples now, whereas a few years ago I would have had trouble), but Journeyman was still in the minority. Moon Bloodgood, who before this had had an uninspiring IMDb resume that includes the character designations Maid, Stripper, and Gorgeous Woman, hinting that she was only being cast for her looks and not her talent, excelled herself as the mysterious Livia, who, it turns out, is not just a strong female character, but is a strong female character who actually exists in the 20s, which adds even more heft to her unshowy feminism. Her inspirational, no-nonsense wisdom and strength will be sorely missed now that the show is over.

2. Emerson Cod - Pushing Daisies

Though I would argue that the conceit of Pushing Daisies is dark enough that the tone of the show needs to be brighter than bright to offset it, it also needs a counter-corrective to make those sunshiney visuals and optimistically romantic plot tolerable. Luckily, Bryan Fuller struck gold by casting Chi McBride as ascerbic PI Emerson Cod, whose cynicism stands in stark contrast to the cutesy antics of Chuck and Ned. Though Cod's character is over-designed (knitting? Really?), McBride makes it all work beautifully. Taking into account his work on House and the adorable Roll Bounce, he's rapidly becoming one of my favourite actors.

1. Dr. Amber Volakis - House M.D.

The writers' strike made a mess of a lot of shows plans, saving some from imminent irrelevance (Heroes), and wrecking the momentum of others (Ugly Betty). Amber "Cutthroat Bitch" Volakis looked to have the most interesting arc of any of the characters on House, but losing a few episodes meant her transformation from calculating semi-mechanoid horrorshow to tragic saint almost didn't work the way it should, but the amazing Anne Dudek (and Robert Sean Leonard and Hugh Laurie as the men in her life) sold it with utter conviction. To start the season as a potential Gupta and end as our favourite character on the show is a notable achievement. We're still secretly depressed at how it all turned out. We miss you, Amber!

Guptas Of The Year

5. PC Andy - Torchwood

Bit of a fudge, this one. He was first seen in the Torchwood pilot and then vanished for a while before returning to crop up once or twice, hanging around Gwen like a bad Welsh smell. The fact that he has little to do other than bug Gwen about Torchwood, as well as the irksome unfinished name, are enough to get on this list. A character as glib and underwritten as this probably has legions of squeeing fans ("OMG PC Andy was so great when he said very little tonight I HEART HIM!"), as that is what fandom does (such as the mystifying cult that sprung up around Deputy Sacks from Veronica Mars). That kind of thinking is not alien to me, I guess. I remember thinking Miles O'Brien was the nuts on Star Trek: The Next Generation when he had very little to do other than energize. That PC Andy's role is being expanded does not bode well. Even now, he sure isn't a Miles O'Brien (who became the best non-Sisko thing about DS9). Still, maybe he'll get a surname now.

4. West - Heroes

What can I say about West? Seriously, what can I say? I totally tuned out while he was onscreen. How about this. West! Your power is boring and you are no kind of romantic hero. Plus, that flying-your-girlfriend-around trick has been done before. Consider how classy Claire Bennett is that she didn't come up with a crappy poem about reading minds while you did it. She's too good for you. Beside, you have the same power her dad Nathan Petrelli does, so you trying to get into Claire's pants is, on some level, almost incestuous. That she would fall for someone who is like her dad is one thing, in an Elektra complex kinda way, but you're no Adrian Pasdar. Plus, you are named after a direction. Fly away, sad little meta-emo!

3. Juliet Darling - Dirty Sexy Money

Creating a character who is just like Paris Hilton, except openly bitchy and shouty, has to be the dumbest move the Dirty Sexy Money showrunners made. Who, other than that unpleasant fame-ho Perez Hilton, actually likes Paris Hilton enough to see a fictionalised version of her, and, even worse, on a show featuring venerable actors Donald Sutherland and Jill Clayburgh? I guess Samaire Armstrong managed to capture Paris' persona well enough, but accuracy does not change the fact that having to endure this shallow jerk week after week was an unendurable trial. Real life events meant she's not on the show anymore, but it's not like it's in tip top health without her. Natalie Zea, Seth Gabel, and Glenn Fitzgerald are still on it, after all.

2. Lila Tournay/West - Dexter

Ah Lila, the deep and mysterious artist who is impulsive! And is deep! And unafraid of exhibiting her boobs because she is such a free spirit! And is a bit mysterious! And will teach life lessons to our anti-hero using her deep deepness, boobs, and impulsive nature! How life-affirming. And supremely annoying. Manic Pixie Dream Girls are intrinsically awful anyway, but Jaime Murray brings a bag of distracting acting tics and bizarre facial expressions to the plate just to make the character even more unlikeable. That she fits right in on this most frustrating of shows is not a compliment. Just like everyone else, she makes us shout "Oh shut up!" at the screen, except with more vehemence.

1. Morgan Grimes - Chuck

A lot of generic network shows tend to lead with a static and semi-boring main character, in order to maintain a format; too much change or unpredictability in that character would make the show and whatever gimmick/hook the show has unworkable from week to week. As a result it's the supporting cast that has the most colour and potential for drastic change. That's not a criticism, of course. That's just the way it works. I doubt many people would say Buffy was their favourite character on Buffy. For example, though I liked Buffy, I was always more invested in Willow and Giles.

However, if the supporting cast sucks, you're in trouble. While Buffy had a great sidekick in Willow, and Angel had Wesley (and Kirk had Spock, and Ryan had Seth, Gil Grissom has Catherine Willows, etc.), Chuck has Morgan, a comedy relief character whose shtick is, "I'm so pathetic yet so inordinately confident." That he is a stock character plunked into the sidekick slot without any effort expended to flesh him out at all is bad enough, and a perfect display of the formulaic and unimaginative nature of the show. What makes him the worst new character on TV is that Joshua Gomez' performance is a grab-bag of nerd tics borrowed from many other actors, none of which make him at all charming or likeable. His reflexively sarcastic line readings are like animal shrieking forced into my ears, and the beard, THE BEARD! OH GOD! It is making my TV screen cry and my eyes vomit!!! How bad is Morgan? Even his best friend, Chuck, seems utterly bored by him. Whether that's a deliberate choice or Zach Levy thinking "Shut up, loser!" all the time is unknown. There was a lot to hate about Chuck, but it was Gomez that made me stop watching. He was definitely the Gupta of the entire TV season. And now that I've ranted about it, I feel terrible. Sorry, Gomez!

Most Lovable Ensemble Cast of the Year:

Reaper


The list of best new characters is sadly incomplete, as it is lacking some Sock. In my defence, though he is easily my favourite character on that show, and I'm fully on the He-Is-A-Genius side of the Tyler Labine debate, choosing Sock would mean snubbing Bret Harrison as lovable lead character Sam (a perfect example of the less interesting lead and crazy "second-in-command" format I mentioned earlier), Rick Gonzalez as hapless but lovable Ben, Ken Marino and Michael Ian Black as lovable demons Tony and Steve, Christine Willes as duplicitous but lovable Gladys, Donavon Stinson as the horrible but lovable Ted, and Ray Wise as the best (and most lovable) Devil ever. The only weak characters in the cast are, sadly, the ladies, but I'll include Valarie Rae Miller due to my former crush on her in Dark Angel (even though she had the even more thankless role as Underwritten Token African-American Lesbian in that pile of cyber-doodie), and Missy Peregrym was finally given stuff to do by the end of the season, so she gets in too. It's possibly the most good-natured show on TV, even though it revolves around Satan, and it's all down to the astute casting decisions. I love all of them, and even when the writing is off, the actors make it all work.

Least Lovable Ensemble Cast of the Year:

Dexter


I've already dissed the entire bunch of grating chumps in another post, so I feel bad for repeating myself, but I could not care less about any of these jerkoffs, and they're not helped by performances that range from bland to bafflingly terrible. Only by the end of the season does Erik King as Doakes live up to his billing as nemesis of Dexter, and by then it's too late. I liked Julie Benz prior to Dexter, but here she is given so little to work with (this week: weak. Next week: strong. Rinse, repeat) that it's hard to watch her at times, especially when remembering how great she was during her final episodes on Angel. Jennifer Morrison and her Potty-Mouth of Grittiness (which has almost convinced us to turn the show off for good) is as one-note as Masuka's sexism, or Batista's feebleness, and LaGuerta is either a Macchiavellian genius or an idiot, depending on what direction the plot is heading that week. The whole lot could be dispatched by Dexter at any moment and I would rejoice. Shurely shome mishtake on the part of the showrunners.

Best Worst Character of the Year:

Peter Campbell - Mad Men

So weaselly he makes Vincent Kartheiser's previous role (Angel's weaselly son Connor) look like Conan of Cimmeria, Pete Campbell is a sheer delight. In every scene he makes some tetchy comment, cringe-inducing faux-pas, or unfunny quip, triggering embarrassment in all around. Since the end of the first season he has been dropped as Office Nemesis of Don Draper (and replaced by Duck Phillips), but that has meant he has become far more interesting and pitiful. Just like Ayn Rand's Peter Keating, the man has no idea who he is or what he wants to be, though he's perfectly willing to lie to himself and pretend to be what he thinks is a successful man. He's not yet figured out what Don has; that success on the terms of The Man do not automatically lead to happiness. He has also yet to grow up, retreating back to his childish ways as soon as his father dies. He's also far too eager to impress, unthinkingly callous, unfunny, and creepy. Watching him continually get things wrong and alienate those around him amuses us greatly. He's like Michael Scott, but a Michael Scott you couldn't care about even if you tried.

Most Wasted Character of the Year:

Monica Dawson - Heroes

Of all the new characters on Heroes, the one I felt most shortchanged by was Monica, played by Dana Davis. Her power (adoptive muscle memory) is unflashy but cool, and a staple of superhero comics (Taskmaster and Echo both have it too), and Monica herself was brave and likeable. After a long build-up and origin story, tapping into memories of the New Orleans Katrina disaster (which, if you were feeling uncharitable, might say did little to illuminate that tragedy and just seemed to add it to the show as a bit of topical flavour), we got to see Monica finally use her powers to help another and to further the plot in the penultimate episode. What happens? She gets caught like a punk, beaten up, trapped in a burning building, and then saved by Niki or Jessica or whoever she was at the time. Monica is being written out in the next season, so all of that was for nothing. Super-utter-lame. If I were Dana Davis, I'd be so pissed.

Most Wasted Actor Of The Year:

Keith Carradine - Dexter

Other than Michael C. Hall (and the odd appearance by the great James Remar), there is no performer on Dexter that doesn't set our teeth on edge, which is one of the reasons we've had so much trouble getting through it. Early in the second season, the introduction of Keith Carradine as serial killer hunter Frank Lundy gave me great hope of a transformation in the direction of the show, but for the most part he has been used as a device to fix Debra, still suffering from the psychic trauma inflicted by the Ice Truck Killer. Whenever he is onscreen, his calm and authoritative presence has been a great relief from the usual amateurish flappity-rargh performances, but he's not around long enough to make a real difference. As a result, Michael C. Hall is left to carry the show. Still, there are two good side-effects of Carradine's appearance. It inspired me to buy the recently re-released DVD of Alan Rudolph's glorious genre-hopping curio Trouble In Mind (featuring Carradine with a superb 'do), and his role as Dexter-antagonist is far more effective than the one-note bluster of Doakes, whose mode of expression can be described in two words: Blue Steel.


Best Couple of the Year:

Bill Adama and Laura Roslin - Battlestar Galactica


I was torn as to whether to choose Coach and Tami Taylor from Friday Night Lights (which is the obvious choice), or Marc and Cliff from Ugly Betty (though they have been sorely underused after their memorable first meeting), but instead I'm settling on the OAPs mature couple from Battlestar Galactica, not just because they're my two favourite characters on the show, and being together leads to an exponential increase in their awesomeness, but because they're not just cute together, but also horribly tragic. Coach and Tami are realistic, Marc and Cliff are adorable, but Bill and Laura are doomed, due to her cancer and Earth turning out to be a big bust after all of that fuss and palaver. With that horrible fate hanging over them, they need the support.

Best Guest Appearance of the Year:

Edie Falco - 30 Rock


Playing a wet liberal stereotype / Capulet to Alec Baldwin's aggressive conservative / Montague, Falco made a convincing case for a career in comedy, creating one of the most memorable and endearing additions to the supporting cast on 30 Rock, already the most impressive gallery of grotesques since Arrested Development. Don't believe me? The runner-up is David Schwimmer as Greenzo.


Worst Guest Appearance of the Year:

Eliza Dushku - Ugly Betty

Misunderstanding the tone of the show, as well as ignoring the dictum "Less is more", Dushku barreled through the dire episode Giving Up The Ghost as if possessed by Zero Mostel on amphetamines. Mercifully stopping short of winking at the camera, Dushku totally killed every feeble joke and situation deader than they already were, to the extent that I'm fairly certain her role in the show, as spoof celebrity Cameron Ashlock, was cut short when it was apparent Dushku has absolutely zero capacity for comedy (see also: Katey Sagal, who was dire on CSI this season). Let's hope Whedon gives the funny lines to the other Dolls in his forthcoming Dollhouse.

Runner Up:

Lucy Davis - Reaper


I feel terrible picking on Davis for this guest appearance (as semi-regular character Sara), but it was deeply depressing to see the formerly terrific actress get it so wrong in this. I don't blame her; it must have been toxic to have spent so long in the presence of Aaron Sorkin on Studio 60, and I'm sure his arrogance curdled the talent of everyone around him (we'll see what Sarah Paulson is like in the remake of Cupid soon enough). Another factor is the desperately awful character (English Green Card fraud leeching of the adorable Ben), but even so, her incoherent line readings and reflexively clenched jaw made her nigh-unwatchable. Can normal service be restored ASAP, please?

Best Bruce Lee Impression of the Year:

Mark Dacascos - The Middleman

Mark Dacascos' appearance as Sensei Ping (pron: Piiiiiiiiing) has amused me greatly this past week. It's the kind of silly joke that sticks in the head and brightens your day whenever you recall it. However, it's also a great impression of Bruce Lee in Enter The Dragon, whose onscreen persona has already been satirised relentlessly since his first appearance. Usually something like that would seem lazy but in The Middleman Dacascos is silly enough to make it work. The best touches are his abuse of Wendy whenever she does something wrong (his slaps are straight out of the opening scene of Dragon), and the kick attacks at the 0:56 mark of this fight scene...



...deliberately echo Lee's moves at the 7:30 mark of this clip.



Attention to detail like that is very welcome, as were the Man With Two Brains references littered throughout. (((((The Middleman)))))

Best Fight Scene of the Year:

Sayid vs. Keamy - Lost

Here's the whole scene including the unfortunate death of Omar, but the highlight comes at 3:49. Last year it was The Ankles Of Death, this year it's The Uppercut Of Awesome.



Uppercut that motherfucker, Sayid!

Badass of the Year:

SAYID!!! - Lost (aka The Sayid Jarrah Powah Howah)

Haven't you been paying attention? What's best is he'll kill with utmost dispassion, unless it's a woman he has fallen in love with, in which case he'll cry. Badassery at its most sentimental and awesome. Runner-Up: Stanley Hudson from The Office. Would you mess with him? Me either.

Most Peculiar Fight Equation Of The Year:

Sayid Jarrah = X
Ben Linus = Y
Keamy The Sailorman = Z

Z > X
Y > Z
∴ Y > X

Ben could beat Sayid in a fight? Well, okay, Keamy had been stabbed and was taken by surprise, but still, we now know that if it came down to a fight between Ben and Sayid, Sayid would be toast. The mind boggles.

Most Missed Show of the Year:

Journeyman

I'm never getting over that cancellation. And neither is Moon Bloodgood.


Least Missed Show of the Year:

Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip

A happy year has been spent without Aarogant Sorkin's finger being wagged in my face, telling me I'm an idiot for watching TV and blogging about it (well, not me personally, but a lot of people in general). Come on in, united bloggers of the world, the schadenfreude is fine! Of course, his forthcoming movie about Facebook will almost certainly be filled with speeches about how isolated we have all become, so it's no clear sailing yet, but for a few months there, the only contact we had with him was Charlie Wilson's War, which was lots of fun, even though at one point Charlie Wilson was featured STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF AFGHANISTAN, which could have derailed everything.

Best Show We Didn't Watch:

The Shield


We've not yet seen the most recently aired season of The Shield, having only watched the pilot a couple of months ago (I'd seen it years ago and loved it, but Canyon had yet to experience it). In the time since, we've raced through the first four seasons, and yesterday we started the fifth, featuring the arrival of Lt. Jon Kavanaugh with all of his unnerving Forest-Whitakerian tics. We're already expecting to do nothing but focus on this for the rest of the week. The sixth season didn't even really figure in the timeframe for this round of Caruso Awards, but even so, we've fallen so completely under its spell that I have to mention it somehow. Again and again we're told that this show doesn't hold a candle to The Wire (which we plan to watch eventually), but if The Wire really is exponentially greater than The Shield as we have been told over and over again, it will probably fry our synapses, boil our blood, and vaporise our house. The Shield is already absolutely amazing, easily one of the best shows of the new TV Golden Age, up there with Deadwood, Lost, and Buffy. It also shows up Dexter (a show with which it shares the same fascination with morality and justice) for the poorly-written, shallow failure that it really is. Team Mackey (and Team Wyms) all the way.

Worst Prediction By Me:

CSI has been the classic example of how one-off procedural shows can still exist and work brilliantly in a long-form world that has seen many story-of-the-week shows deemed obsolete. Every week a new case is introduced, and at the end the case is solved (most of the time). Last season, however, saw the show bring in the excellent Miniature Killer arc, which popped in and out of the procedural, often to devastating effect (as I've said before, Monster in the Box might be the single best episode of CSI ever). This season, the producers have hinted that there would be something similar introduced, but if this episode is anything to go by, it won't be a single criminal, but an ongoing case against a water-processing plant. I hope other fans are as excited about that as I am. It would be Erin Brockovich with less biker beards!

Yes, CBS are really going to anger Corporate America by daring to suggest there is endemic corruption in the system. I couldn't have been more off the mark if I said the series would end with the improbable craziness of Warrick getting shot by the corrupt and possibly demented Undersheriff McKeen. Ha! Ha! Ohhhhhh...

Favourite Screencap of the Year:


Now that's some empathic pain right there. Captain Jack needs a hug, people. The queue to give him some comfort forms on the left (me first!!!).

Best Line of the Year:

"So?" - Ben Linus, upon hearing that killing the man who killed his daughter has doomed the crew of the Kahana.

Runner-Up: "I gotta go pray." Lila Garrity after drunkenly kissing both of her ex-boyfriends.

Visual of the Year:


It's amazing how much I am cheered up just by the thought of Ray Wise, let alone by seeing that infinitely charming grin. Long may he rule in Hell.

Okay, I'm done, I think. Time to look forward to the new season, which features such wonders as John Noble as the awesome Dr. Walter Bishop in Fringe, Whedon's return to TV with Dollhouse, a guaranteed thirteen episode season of Friday Night Lights, Morpheus solving crimes in CSI, the long-delayed return of Big Love, and more questions posed on Lost. I'm vibrating with excitement already.

The 2007-2008 Caruso Awards (The Good)

Though it might seem perverse to be assessing the bests and worsts of a TV year when the new TV year is very much upon us (The Shield started last week, and Fox's big new hope, Fringe, starts tomorrow), weirdly enough we're actually doing this earlier than last year. It's hard to know where to put the cut-off dates, but now seems the right time to get on with this. There are going to be some omissions, such as Mad Men (we didn't think the first season had anything strong enough for inclusion, and the second season, though improved, is not yet over) and The Shield (we're a couple of seasons behind, but catching up fast). Also missing are mentions of Terminator: The Sarah Conicles (© Masticator and Masticatrix) and The Middleman, two shows I think I will end up loving but have not seen enough of to be sure (and believe me, the first fifteen minutes of the third episode of Middleman was so funny it almost got into the list anyway). I will also include a couple of two-parters, because they were just too perfect to be separated, and will regrettably be going over a lot of stuff I've covered before, but what can I say? When I'm enthusiastic about something, I have no off-switch.

Best episodes of the season:

10. Pushing Daisies - Sniff It Good

For a few weeks there, I was in two minds about sticking with Pushing Daisies. Maybe I would have been more forgiving of it if it hadn't been treated like God's own TV show by most critics before it had even aired, a blanket pre-judgement that grated because no one seemed willing to admit that for everything that was right with the show, there was something very wrong. At least, that's how it was at first. As the season progressed, it became clear that the critical consensus was swinging away from blanket praise to complaints that the tone was too sickly, and just to be contrary, we began to fall in love with it. As the show became more bittersweet (in counterpoint to the colours and romance) it blossomed, and this episode represented the high watermark. Not only did it introduce Paul Reuben's olfactory expert, it ended on a heartstopping rendition of Morning Has Broken by Ellen Greene playing over a hallucinatory animation sequence that still makes me choke up whenever I think about it.

9. CSI: Crime Scene Investigation - Goodbye and Good Luck

Coming after the two best seasons of this long-running show, the eighth was a disappointment, though one littered with the odd classic moment. This episode, chronicling the final case of CSI Sara Sidle, was the season highlight by a long chalk. Directed by star helmer Kenneth Fink (also responsible for the excellent finale, which detailed the last moments of CSI Warrick Brown), it featured the return of Sara's arch-enemy, the bad seed Hannah West, and brought their antagonism to a surprising and moving conclusion, just in time for Sara to leave the team in an attempt to save her damaged soul. Visually impressive (as I mentioned at the time), emotionally draining, and beautifully judged, it was the total opposite of the empty gore-fest that non-fans assume CSI to be. Even when not operating at maximum efficiency, surely this is one of the most underrated shows on TV right now.

8. Doctor Who - Forest of the Dead

The general consensus is that no matter how shaky Doctor Who can be, at least Steven Moffat will pop up at some point and save the day. So it was with the River Song two-parter, which was lauded pretty much before it aired. Another truism is that heightened anticipation will often lead to disappointment, and the first part, Silence in the Library, featured so many of the tricks Moffat had already used that this felt less than fresh, even with a spirited performance from Alex Kingston. Luckily for Nu-Whovians everywhere, the second part, Forest of the Dead, was a heartbreaking triumph. Though still reusing elements from previous Moffat scripts (especially The Doctor Dances), the emotional surge in the last five minutes dispelled any misgivings, mixing uplift and tragedy with enough enthusiasm that pointing out its flaws feels like mean-spirited carping.

7. Journeyman - Emily/Blowback

Journeyman was the little show that couldn't, no matter how much we had hoped it would. Damned as nothing more than a Quantum Leap rip-off, it struggled to attract the Heroes audience at exactly the moment that the Heroes audience decided it didn't want to watch an entire episode through, let alone hang around to see what was on afterwards, even if that meant missing out on something bold, complex, and thought-provoking. By this point in the show's run we had realised something special was happening, and this two-parter, exploring the disastrous consequences of Dan Vassar's actions, and the limitations of his power, was a perfect example of its uncompromising storytelling. With our temporally-challenged protagonist's liberal good intentions responsible for attracting the attention of a serial killer (played with sleazy menace by Raphael Sbarge), he is forced to contemplate the unthinkable in order to save his family. Kevin McKidd acted the hell out of that moral quandary, Juan Carlos Coto and Kevin Falls wrote the shit out of it, and all across the internet, people finally woke up to the brilliance of this show. Sadly, it was too late to save it from cancellation.

6. Battlestar Galactica - The Hub

Bouncing back from a sorely disappointing third season, Battlestar Galactica picked up a bit but was still not firing on all cylinders. While the plot seemed to be moving pieces into place with some actual honest-to-God events, of all things, many episodes were still tainted by unconvincing histrionics, variable performances, dreary subplots, and clumsy narrative conceits. The Hub featured none of these. With super-total-ace writer Jane Espenson focusing on Laura Roslin (one of the show's most compelling characters), all of the swish pyrotechnics and gung-ho action paled next to the season's most dramatic moment; Baltar's delirious confession of his role in the Caprican genocide, and Roslin's almost homicidal response. That Mary McDonnell is not the recipient of every award going for her pitch-perfect reaction is a crying shame. And then, to top it off, she tells Bill Adama she loves him. This is the show I once loved. Where the hell has it been?

5. The Venture Brothers - Tears of a Sea Cow

After a long wait, The Venture Brothers returned with a greater emphasis on continuity and drama, to such an extent that my enormous anticipation soon withered into confusion and annoyance. While Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer were still providing the gags, something seemed amiss. By the time we reached Dr. Quymn: Medicine Woman, the repeated focus on a depressed Monarch, the creepy Sgt. Hatred, and Dr. Mrs. The Monarch's efforts to cheer her husband up had robbed the show of so much of its energy that even that episode, which featured none of those characters, was still not hitting the bullseye. Luckily, Tears of a Sea Cow marked a huge return to form. With Dr. Venture and Brock Samson missing in action for the majority of the episode, the focus shifts to Hank, Dean, and Dermot on one side, and The Monarch's defiance of the Guild of Calamitous Intent on the other, and as they all accidentally come into conflict of the most half-hearted kind, the show got its mojo back.


Nothing much happens for 22 minutes, but the details are perfect. 21's immortality misunderstanding, H.E.L.Per's incessant drumbeat (running joke of the year), The Monarch's psychosexual obsession with Dr. Venture coming into full bloom; just those three moments would qualify it for the list, but the episode was filled to the brim with comedic gems. In the last few episodes of this reinvigorated season we were treated to the sight of Mark Twain and Oscar Wilde in a League of Extraordinary Gentlemen spoof, the return of Colonel Gentleman and his manboobs, the introduction of super-robot Ventronic, and a shocking two-part finale that featured death and retirement horror. Arguably, those moments were funnier or more dramatic, but Tears of a Sea Cow wins out for bringing the show back on track.

4. Friday Night Lights - Let's Get It On

As with many of these mini-posts, I've already gone on about this exemplary episode at length, so forgive me for going over old ground, but though this season didn't reach the heights of the first, it was by no means the disappointment that many felt it to be. The worrying plot threads were handled well, the stupid plot threads didn't hang around long, and the performances were as classy as ever. Though the series had many high points, including Riggins' speech to his former team-mates, Santiago's first game, and Tami's sister arriving to drive Coach insane, this episode featured the highest quota of genius moments, with special praise for Street's plunge from a boat and subsequent "baptism", and the sweet and funny Y Tu Mama Tambien scene at the end of the episode. No other show on TV treats adolescent confusion and pain with such seriousness of purpose, or respect for its characters and audience. Everyone who doesn't watch it is missing out on an incredible experience. Seriously.

3. The Office - Dinner Party

The Deposition, the episode that preceded this one, was excruciating enough, showing the relationship between Michael and Jan to be riven with distrust, mutual loathing, and flashes of inappropriate aggression, yet held together by desperation and fear of loneliness. The Dinner Party, set almost entirely in Michael and Jan's house, made The Deposition look like a traditional two-camera and laugh-track sitcom from the 70s. The vicious sniping between Michael and Jan was terrifying in its ruthlessness, made all the worse for happening in front of Jim, Pam, Andy and Angela (and, later, Dwight and his babysitter, played with deadpan skill by the wonderful Beth Grant). Director Paul Feig and writers Lee Eisenberg and Gene Stupnitsky delivered a masterpiece of sphincter-tightening discomfort that not only showed up the original BBC series (which I would have thought was an impossibility), but also anything that fraud Mike Leigh has done. It was the kind of format-busting experiment that proves that, when given enough legroom by the suits at the network, mainstream TV can transcend expectations and deliver devastating and uncompromising storytelling. And yes, I'm aware I'm saying that about a comedy.

2. House M.D. - House's Head / Wilson's Heart

Again, I've hyper-praised these two episodes, but allow me to indulge myself once again. As with the Journeyman two-parter, it's impossible to separate these two episodes, even though this time there is a distinct quality difference between the two. While the second half, with the team attempting to save the life of Amber the Cutthroat Bitch, was measured and quiet, the first part, with hallucinations and bus crashes, was big and flashy. It was a superb episode, but mostly despite the attention-seeking efforts of director Greg Yaitanes. That he has been nominated for an Emmy while Katie Jacobs, director of the second episode, was overlooked, is regrettable (on edit: turns out IMDb lists her as co-director on the first episode, but she gets no attention from the Emmy judges). Nevertheless, this season finale represented House at its best. Coming at the end of the most entertaining and thought-provoking season yet, it was the perfect capper, the best episode in the history of the show, and proved the doubters wrong; there is still life in that controversial static formula, especially when used by a showrunning team as bold as this one.

1. Lost - The Shape Of Things To Come

I have spent the months since the season four finale of my favourite show trying to decide which episode was the one I loved the most. Was it The Constant, which used the baffling premise of the show to create a love story that defied time and mortality? Or was it that amazing last episode, filled with more action and surprise than anything other show screened all year? Or was it the one that made me even more long-winded than usual? Just a week ago, I finally came to the conclusion that it had to be this episode, featuring time-travelling, cold-blooded murder, the triumphant return of Cerberus the Smoke Monster, and the best performance of the year. Screw it, the decade. Michael Emerson's command of the screen is already frightening, and this most shocking of episodes featured his greatest moment yet, a near-wordless breakdown followed by terrifying revenge as our anti-hero chooses to unleash unworldy terror upon his nemesis, even at the cost of losing his hold on the thing he holds most dear. There were countless other superb moments in this episode, but that was the most impressive five minutes of the year. Forgive my hyperbolism, but no other work of art or popular culture has moved and amazed me more than that "simple" bit of acting. I am simply in awe of the man, and the entire Lost team for ignoring the critics and getting us to this point at the deliberate pace they have. If the rest of the payoffs are even a fraction as powerful as those featured in this episode, it will all have been worth it.

Coming up! The ten worst episodes of the year (hint: one of the shows included rhymes with Fuck. Another one rhymes with Norchwood). I might even get into some other stuff. Let's see how this week goes.

It's The End Of The World As We Know It...

...And I feel blue. There has been a temporary blog slowdown over the last few days, and you can blame Cormac McCarthy for it. Last week I read his breathtaking novel The Road, which paints such a convincing and relentlessly bleak picture of what the world would be like during a nuclear winter that I was propelled headlong into a brainfunk of catastrophic proportions. I can't remember the last time I read something that affected me so profoundly, though I do remember the last film that did; Cronenberg's criminally underrated Spider, doing for my psyche what Cronenberg had previously managed with Dead Ringers many years ago.


Maybe it wasn't just the fault of The Road. Over the last few months I have read Matt Taibbi's The Great Derangement (the world has become completely irrational and it's only going to get worse), Christopher Hitchens' God Is Not Great (religious fundamentalists will be the death of us all), Scott Smith's The Ruins (a metaphor for how we are all doomed due to our ignorance and fear of facing our responsibilities, and a shit-scary horror classic to boot), and Larry Elliott and Dan Atkinson's The Gods That Failed (a lengthy and eloquent rant about the forthcoming economic Armageddon that will make paupers of us all). The cumulative effect of all this bleak reading material is to make me even more pessimistic than I previously was.

Maybe if I had followed The Gods That Failed with Thomas Frank's The Wrecking Crew as planned, I might only be very miserable instead of emotionally washed-out, but it too will be a sobering and downbeat read, even taking into account Frank's deadpan wit. Instead, plumping for McCarthy's novel might have been the worst choice possible. It's all because photos of the adaptation hit the internet last week, showing Viggo Mortenson as the unnamed dad trudging across a blasted and ash-strewn hellscape with his son in tow, waiting for death to take them both before they fall to the hands of marauding cannibal rapists. Well, the photos only showed Viggo looking really miserable, so I went into the book not realising how well McCarthy would paint a picture of a world utterly without hope. Or colour. The inside of my head has been the same ash-gray since finishing the book which, incidentally, I did as quickly as I could in order to get it over and done with.


Though I'm sure most people stumbling across this blog have already read The Road, if you haven't I hesitate to recommend it due to the overwhelmingly negative empathic reaction I had to it. On a non-emotive level I definitely would recommend it. McCarthy is operating at the peak of his phenomenal powers, and with spare poetic prose creates an utterly convincing post-apocalyptic nightmare that has been designed with such rigour that there is no room for hope or optimism (I won't include spoilers that might or might not ultimately qualify that statement. Those who have read The Road will have their own ideas about whether that statement is true or not). It is a totally convincing scenario, and thanks to McCarthy's incredible descriptive facility, there is no escape from his vision of hell on earth. It felt like a mantrap had grabbed onto my soul. So yeah, stunning book, and one everyone should read, but if you don't feel like being really really glum for several days after, skip it.

So, even though I'm not the type to shy away from potentially downbeat material, I figured I needed to take a break from fiction or non-fiction making serious points about how fucked up the world is. Maybe spending the whole weekend watching pretty much the whole third season of The Shield wasn't the best move, but even though it featured nervous breakdowns, beloved characters either killing animals or beating each other almost to the brink of death, rape (perpetrated upon both male and female), dismemberment, moral compromise, racism, homophobia, systemic corruption, unrelenting tension, violence, and a bleak vision of urban decay, at least it was occasionally funny, plotted with astonishing precision, and was never less than riveting. A rewatching of Zoolander was more calming, as was a viewing of the last five episodes of Venture Brothers season three, which would have been an unqualified uplifting triumph if the last two minutes of the finale didn't make me so sad (stupid Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick making me unhappy with the shock ending!).


Nevertheless, the sadness has yet to pass, even with the best efforts of Canyon to cheer me up, which could be evidence that my soul has been tainted by the power of McCarthy's prose even unto its core. After spending some time pootling around the excellent Quiet Earth website, which is devoted to post-apocalyptic sci fi fiction, I realised that that kind of dystopian sci fi can either be depressing (The Road) or kinda fun (they linked to news that a director's cut of the exuberantly daft and entertaining Waterworld is being released, which was one of the few things over the last few days that has cheered me up, and all the Waterworld haters out there can kiss it). As a result, I have gone out of my way to experience less harrowing dystopic sci fi over the last couple of days, in an effort to replace McCarthy's harrowing vision with something that doesn't make me despair, and I shall spend the rest of the week discussing my efforts. If that doesn't appeal to our readers, apologies, but seriously, it beats moaning about Mike Leigh again, folks.

Five Random Things That Make Me Very Very Happy (2)

1: Doctor Orpheus from The Venture Brothers.


There are lots of things to love about The Venture Brothers, which is pretty much the funniest animated series on TV right now, but the thing that is 100% guaranteed to make me laugh is Doctor Orpheus. He's an obvious spoof of Marvel Comics' Sorceror Supreme, Doctor Strange, but whereas that character is a confident and worldly force for good, Orpheus is plagued by insecurity, desperate for the friendship of Dr. Venture, and miserable over his inability to gain the attentions of an arch-enemy. Scared that his best years are behind him, and stuck looking after his grumpy goth daughter Trianna (who he loves but doesn't understand), he rents a spacious room in the Venture compound and tries desperately to gain the acceptance of his landlord, even though Dr. Venture is an absolute dick. In the second season he reforms his superteam, The Order of the Triad, but even that is not enough to satisfy him.

He would be a great character anyway, but the hilariously overwrought voicework by Steven Rattazzi pushes him right over the top. There are many ways to deliver the line "Do not be too hasty in entering that room. I had Taco Bell for lunch!" upon exiting a toilet, but the way he bellows it as if delivering a hammy piece of Shakespearean verse is genius. Sadly Adult Swim are good at taking down footage from their shows from YouTube, so if you want to see him in action, I suggest you buy the DVDs. Strongly suggest, in fact. Actually, I order you. Immediately. You won't regret it.

There's only one drawback to this. I'm currently reading Austin Grossman's fantastic novel, Soon I Will Be Invincible (an awesome birthday gift from Canyon), and the main superteam, The Champions, has on its roster a sorceror called Mister Mystic. Whenever he talks, all I can hear is that hilarious voice. I'm sure the character is meant to be taken seriously, but it's just impossible. BTW, you should also buy this book. It's fabtriffic.

2: The news that production on Mad Max: Fury Road has begun again.


When I was but a little boy, of the age where I would skip to school whilst wearing shorts and a cap, eagerly on the lookout for conkers while starlings and blue tits chirped in the trees, I really really enjoyed coming home and rewatching my knackered video copy of Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior, just to see the Feral Child chop off a guy's fingers with a razor boomerang, or Humongous flexing his outrageous muscles like something out of a Roman gladiator movie, or Vernon Wells getting killed in a head-on collision between a tanker truck and a car.

Okay, I tell a lie. I was actually a teenager. The stuff about shorts and caps and conkers is true though. Maybe that's why the cool kids kept throwing stuff at my head. I also remember playing Car Wars, the Steve Jackson game that emulated the same post-apocalyptic car battle scenarios. Many hours would be spent pushing tiny slivers of cardboard around a flimsy map, trying to beat my game-obsessed cousin, who was older than me and actually knew the rules, thus putting me at a disadvantage. Ah, memories. The worst part of this exposure to all the grimy angry vroom-vroom is that I now think that such a future is not only entirely plausible but inevitable. And I don't even know how to drive! Man, when the world falls apart, I am so screwed. That said, I have a really bad arthritic knee and grey wings in my hair, so I've got that part of the Max Rockatansky shtick going for me.

Loving Road Warrior is not exactly controversial, but some of the guys I knew who were in the year above thought I was mad for also liking Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, as it featured kids and was therefore not as hardcore as Road Warrior. Perhaps they had a point. If I went back to it now I'd probably agree, but at the time it just made me want to live in a post-apocalyptic world as part of a community of warrior children and hang out with a murderous Mel Gibson while trying to avoid Tina Turner. She was on Radio 1 all the time when I was a kid, so I reckon it would have been a common fantasy.


It's been years since I've seen them (mostly because Warner Brothers have not bothered to release proper DVDs, opting instead for barebones cheap-ass versions instead), but I still remember them fondly, and kept wishing directorial maestro George Miller would get the fourth film underway. Sadly for the fans, the project has had its fair share of bad luck over the years: Miller directing one of the biggest flops in film history (Babe 2: Pig In The City) and then being ostracised by the industry; budget trouble; African location shooting proving problematic; Mel proclaiming loudly that the Jews are responsible for all the world's ills (I wonder if he thinks the Californian fires that menaced his house were a plot) and thus expending every last bit of good will I had towards him (until I saw the very entertaining Apocalypto, which has thrown me for a loop). I'd given up on it, especially as Miller is now working on the Justice League movie, but Moviehole have revealed the project is going ahead again, sans Gibson, and pre-production will be done during the Justice League shoot.

Miller is one of my all-time heroes. The closest he's got to making a bad movie was The Witches of Eastwick; when people complain about the Hollywoodisation of a book I get so mad at the implicit snobbery in that phrase, but there is no other word for Michael Christofer's adaptation of John Updike's bizarre novel. All of the risk has been surgically removed, and the only thing that redeems the movie is Miller's muscular direction. I still love it, and have seen it a trillion times, but it's not the movie it should have been. Other than that, he's made some great stuff. Lorenzo's Oil, Babe 2, the Mad Max movies; all great. I even enjoyed Happy Feet lots and lots, and think it gets a ton of unfair criticism. Whatever. The master is back now he has an Oscar in his hand, and hopefully this second wind will see him restoring his reputation as one of the great storytellers of our age (and if you think I'm gonna apologise for the hyperbole, you can forget it), as well as making a movie set in a world that is more relevant than ever. I really cannot wait. Plus, the release of the new movie might spur Warner into giving the original movies a proper big DVD re-release, with all the bells and whistles! ZOMG!

Until then, check out Ain't It Cool's coverage; Merrick has been nice enough to put clips of the final chase sequence from Road Warrior. It's not a clean, speedy scene with nimble cars doing outrageous things; it's more a war of attrition, with outrageous violence and masterful stunts. Cinema at its best.

3: Frank Caliendo imitating John Madden on Letterman:

My only real exposure to John Madden is through playing the game, but you don't need to know what the real guy is like. This works beautifully anyway. The fact that it's an uncannily accurate impression is just a bonus. As with great Moments in Presidential speeches, this never fails to amuse.



4. Vern's work in the field of Seagalogy.

Speaking of Ain't It Cool, one of the site's more entertaining features are the reviews by Outlaw Vern, which are works of chaotic, grammatically dodgy brilliance. For years he has been working on a book of Seagalogy, and it finally got printed this week (I think; well, I found it today, so I'm sticking with that). Criticism can often be such a perfunctory thing that when you come across someone with a singular voice, it doesn't matter if you often disagree with them. It's just good to find entertaining and thoughtful writing about pop culture. Peter Bradshaw in the Guardian, Nigel Andrews in the Financial Times, Stephanie Zacharek and Andrew O'Hehir of Salon, Moriarty from AICN, the AV Club guys; I head straight to them every week.

While they will review most things released, Vern focuses on the long discredited action genre, and treats it with the respect it needs. His particular area of expertise, obviously, is the filmography of Steven Seagal, and he has the same love/hate relationship with him that I do with David Caruso. All you need to know about his credentials is that he thinks Out For Justice is Seagal's masterpiece, and it is, so he gets full marks for accuracy. Yes, I have often disagreed with him, but he makes me laugh even while I think he is horribly horribly wrong.

His entertainingly incoherent writing (almost certainly a pose, a bit like the wonderful Ami Angelwings) can be bought as real actual books or downloads from Lulu, and I heartily recommend them. Wow, I'm really trying to shill stuff out today.

5: We Both Reached For The Gun by Kander and Ebb, from Rob Marshall's Chicago:

Canyon recently recommended I watch Rob Marshall's film version of Chicago, and though a few years ago I would have said, "But the NO!!!", this time I jumped at the chance. Since seeing Once More With Feeling and Guys and Dolls (with Ewan McGregor and Jane Krakowski), I've started to love the genre. Chicago was better than I had expected, and I wonder if the lukewarm reviews it occasionally got at the time had more to do with the garishness of the visuals compared to the starkness of the stage version. As far as I could tell, Marshall did a pretty good job of mimicking Bob Fosse's directorial style, and though it was a little flashier, it worked very well.

Of all the songs in the show, We Both Reached For The Gun is my favourite (with Mister Cellophane coming close behind), but it was the scene itself, with the conceit of Roxie and the attendant press corps as puppets at the whim of Billy Flynn, that appealed to me most. If I'd give the movie an 8, this scene gets an 11. It's just genius.