"The Chris Isaak Show" is a game attempt at shaking up sitcom formula. But at an hour long, it seems to go on forever. Isaak is too bland to really punch home the dry wit or convey the swirl of emotions that accompany the plot twists, which usually hinge on his panic or self-doubt. Isaak's real-life Silvertone bandmates, however (drummer Kenney Dale Johnson, bassist Rowland Salley and guitarist Herschel Yatovitz), have a neat diamond-in-the-rough likability; think Silvio, Paulie and Big Pussy on "The Sopranos." The cast of amateurs is padded with a couple of professional ringers -- puckish Jed Rees as horny, spaced-out keyboard player Anson and Sarah Jessica Parker wannabe Kristin Dattilo as Chris' ambitious manager Yola. They both seem to get more screen time than Isaak.

I've seen four episodes of "The Chris Isaak Show," and it still doesn't hang together as an ensemble comedy; its multiple story lines exist in their own private worlds and seldom converge. It would be a better show if Isaak united the people around him, or against him, the way Larry Sanders did (and Larry David does on HBO's celeb-reality sitcom "Curb Your Enthusiasm") by virtue of an outsize persona. But you know what the problem is, don't you? Chris Isaak is just too gosh-darned normal.

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The abject failure of celebrity sitcoms like "Bette," "The Michael Richards Show," John Goodman's "Normal, Ohio" and "The Geena Davis Show" may have gotten all the ink this season, but, for me anyway, the more dismal development was the tanking of David Milch's dark, obtuse CBS cop drama "Big Apple." Now, I should say that I am a sucker for dark, obtuse cop dramas. But I just couldn't get inside "Big Apple." Maybe it was the impenetrable, murky FBI vs. NYPD office politics; maybe I just can't buy Al Bundy as a cop. I have had a jones for smart cop dramas through shows legendary ("Hill Street Blues," "Homicide: Life on the Street") and almost forgotten ("EZ Streets," "Brooklyn South"). But I fear "Big Apple" has just about cured me of the addiction.

Which brings us to "The Job," ABC's dark, obtuse cop drama masquerading as a half-hour comedy. Created by star Denis Leary and "Larry Sanders" veteran Peter Tolan, "The Job" may be a trendsetter for producers who ever want to do celebrity sitcoms (or New York-set cop shows) again.

Rather than just sticking Leary in front of a camera and praying for magic (hello "Geena"), somebody took the time to figure out how to exploit Leary's wiseass, surly personality in a role that makes sense. So we have Leary as Mike McNeil, a hard-drinking, chain-smoking, pill-popping, overextended New York police detective with a sweet wife in the suburbs and a sophisticated mistress (who happens to be African-American) in the city.

Leary's McNeil is emphatically cynical; he's not just burned out, he's nuked. His upstanding partner, "Pip" (after Gladys Knight's backup singers) Phillips, played with adorable earnestness by Bill Nunn, warns McNeil that his pain-pill habit is bad, bad, bad. To which McNeil snaps, "That box and a bottle of Bushmills is the only thing keepin' me from takin' hostages, OK?" McNeil is like Andy Sipowicz with a sense of humor and better suits. And right now, given the devolution of "NYPD Blue" into unbelievable sappiness, I'd rather watch cop frustration and despair played for edgy laughs than crocodile tears.

"The Job" features "NYPD Blue"-style raw language and a jerky hand-held camera style straight out of "Homicide." In fact, it plays like "Homicide" with the dramatic scenes removed and just the morbidly funny parts left in. (Leary sports a pair of tinted Richard Belzer eyeglasses, perhaps in homage.) The stellar ensemble cast, especially Keith David (Mary's combustible stepdad in "There's Something About Mary") as the squad's short-fused lieutenant, makes the most of Tolan and Leary's spiffy dialogue. "The Job" is surprisingly solid. There's nothing here you haven't seen before -- but you haven't seen it quite in this way.

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