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Friday, Nov 27, 2009
"Wonderfalls" flirts with cancellation, just like "My So-Called Life" -- which returns in reruns -- and PBS airs a must-see documentary about immigrants. But first ... I think we need to have a talk.
Mar 29, 2004 | Deference to the missed reference
I want to say something, but I don't want you to take it the wrong way. You know I like you, right? I mean, we've been getting along great, I think. Don't you think so? Good, I think so, too. But every relationship hits the wall at some point. It happens, and it's totally natural. Maybe -- and this is just an example -- I'm a little sick of you telling me about how tragic it is that "Angel" was cancelled. And maybe you're a little tired of the way I overuse the words "leaden" and "tedious." It's not my fault that so many things on TV are either leaden or tedious, but whatever. You have a right to your opinions.
The thing is, we both have to accept each other, and recognize that neither one of us will ever be perfect, no matter how hard we try. Sometimes I think I'm trying a little bit harder than you are, to be honest. This makes me a little resentful, and when I'm feeling resentful I notice things, like your corny sig file, or the fact that your last name rhymes with "toe cheese," or your habit of signing "Cheers!" when you really mean "So there!" But look, I'm a writer. You shouldn't take my keen sense of what's wrong with you personally.
The thing is, you have to accept the fact that I'm not perfect in order for this relationship to work. And one of the things that makes me not-so-perfect is my lack of familiarity with certain films, like -- just for example -- "The Producers," Mel Brooks' seminal 1968 comedy that only the wildly ignorant have never seen. I thought it was enough that I saw the musical and watched every single episode of "Curb Your Enthusiasm," but apparently not. Yes, I can see why you'd prefer that I quickly recognize and understand every reference in every single program on television, especially the ones on HBO, and when I don't recognize a reference, you'd like to think that at least my editor would. I get it. If you're going to take the time to make this relationship work, you'd really like to think that I'm the one for you. And even if I'm not right for you, like a good pimp, my editor should help to create the illusion that I am.
But sometimes you have to accept that the things you really like about a person are inextricably linked to the things that disappoint you about them. I mean, sure, I could rent every classic or critically acclaimed film from the past five decades, I could read every book and play, I could study up on all of the most referenced bits of popular culture. But then would I have the same curious blend of personality disorders that feeds my drive to parse the larger cultural significance of "Trading Spaces"? I think not. I've never actually parsed the larger cultural significance of "Trading Spaces," but still. And if my pimp -- er, editor -- knew everything about everything, do you think he would let me write this ridiculous column? Nay, my friend, he would not.
Take a minute and picture the alternative: a TV critic who's seen "The Producers" and every other significant film and television show, foreign or domestic, ever made. You might really gain a lot from that person's encyclopedic knowledge of television and film, but he might also have a bad habit of wiping his nose on his sleeve and making sweeping statements about how no American film measures up to the unbridled brilliance of Kurosawa's best work.
Is that what you really want? Or do you want a confused lapdog like me, one who tends to think that an encyclopedic knowledge of most things is vastly overrated, one whose standards are not so stringent that she's unwilling to watch "Forever Eden" every now and then, just so she can tell you exactly how worthless it is?
Look, if this is going to work, we have to be honest with each other. I agree that I've been kind of bitchy and distant lately -- I guess I've been feeling a little bit resentful toward you for making me watch eight leaden, tedious hours of "CSI: Miami" in a row. But I have to level with you: As dumb as I feel for missing the reference to "The Producers," all of the brilliant references in the world wouldn't change my opinion that the "Curb" finale was self-indulgent and flat.
There, I said it. We can't agree on everything, can we? Not unless you start taking your cues on what to think about things from me -- which I wouldn't mind, to tell you the truth. In fact, I think it might really improve our relationship.
I'm so glad we had this talk. I feel so much better now!
Out with the old, in with the new
Hey, one more thing: I know you were planning to watch "Average Joe: Adam Returns" tonight, but I really think you should skip it and tune in for "The New Americans," that PBS documentary miniseries I mentioned last week, that follows the lives of recent immigrants over the course of four years. I know you love to jeer at the overeager, awkward girls of "Average Joe" because they're nothing like the swimsuit models your spoiled eyes are accustomed to seeing on TV, but there are times when you have to put your hunger for juvenile kicks aside and watch something that might just broaden your horizons. This is particularly important when your horizons are about as broad as a cockroach's.
Remember that Frontline documentary series "The Farmer's Wife," that followed a struggling Nebraska farm family over the course of three years? Remember how it had this strange power over you, and you couldn't peel yourself from the screen for three days straight, and for weeks afterward you kept wondering how the family was doing?
"The New Americans" is the same way. The pull of its heart-wrenching stories is impossible to resist from the start, when we meet these individuals in their native countries, dreaming of a better life in America. From Naima, a Palestinian woman who leaves her family to start a new life with an American-born husband she's known for a very short time, to Israel, a member of the Ogoni tribe persecuted by the Nigerian government for engaging in nonviolent protests against Shell Oil's pollution there, each clings to the hope of prosperity in order to handle the despair of leaving behind their homes and families for the alienation of American life.
