Friday, Jul 25, 2008
This week's tweaked TV featured metrosexuals, matchmakers, and Jen and Brad decorating tips. Plus: The devastating finale of the mind-melting "Paradise Hotel"!
Oct 2, 2003 | People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw Silverstones
Remember when Alicia Silverstone was heralded as the It Girl to end all It Girls, and then she got her own production company, made some bad movies and promptly disappeared? Well, she's come back to the matchmaker role that put her on the map with "Miss Match," NBC's hour-long dramedy that looks like an unholy hybrid of "Clueless," "Ally McBeal" and "Legally Blonde."
"Victoria, I'm a divorce lawyer. An ass-kicker. People can't think of me as some ... romantic softie!"
You get the idea. Silverstone's character, Kate, is a divorce lawyer with a cutthroat lawyer father, a lounge-singing mother, some quirky McBealesque friends and a wet-noodle boyfriend whom she's clearly going to dump by the end of the episode and ... yep, there she is, dumping him.
The real question is, will "Miss Match" get dumped before the end of the season? Probably, unless "Clueless" screenwriter Amy Heckerling joins the staff.
Make new friends and ditch the old
Haven't you missed your "Friends" since last spring? I sure have. What happened last spring again? Joey knelt to pick up a diamond ring and Rachel thought he was proposing? Ross had a misunderstanding and almost married the wrong person again? Monica had a bad hair day, then got weirdly uptight about something small and burned the onion tartlets?
Luckily, I got to see my dearest Friend Jennifer Aniston again just about a month ago, when she appeared as the first guest on Ellen DeGeneres' new talk show, appropriately named "The Ellen Show." First the two goofed around, then Ellen got down to business and started asking hard-hitting questions, like whether or not Jennifer and Brad have the same taste in carpeting. Jennifer explained that they didn't, a little fact that lent their current redecorating project an urgency and desperation that called to mind "The Raft of the Medusa." Eventually, though, Jen managed to be philosophical about the situation.
Jennifer: "You know what? I really do believe, if you can live through remodeling a home, you can live for the rest of your lives together."
Ellen: "It's true. That's the most stressful thing."
Jennifer (to audience): "It's hard. It's hard."
Loud applause.
Yeah, redecorating can really rip your marriage to shreds. That, and unmanageable debt, alcoholism, infertility ... But nothing's really worse than that moment when Brad's unpacking his 10-foot-tall "Scarface" poster and propping it in the middle of the living room, where you thought you distinctly stated that the color palette included only pale blue and chocolate brown.
Is it any wonder that "Friends" is starting to feel a little weighed down by the weight of its own history and larger-than-life personalities? Last Thursday's premiere was good and everything -- "Friends" is never really bad, truth be told -- but do we actually buy Rachel and Joey together? The two looked about as excited to kiss each other as two squabbling siblings with their arms around each other in a Sears portrait. Ross' story lines are never remotely interesting, and Monica and Chandler have been doing the same uptight/snide routine for years now.
How many years? I can't remotely remember, but when I think about the fact that this is the show's last season, I feel a mixture of sadness and dread. Attached to "Friends" as we might be, imagining the endless interviews and retrospectives and sappy shit that's in store for us this year induces dizziness and suicidal ideation in one out of every five viewers. As Jennifer told Ellen, "It's gonna be hard to end 10 years of this show. You know, maybe it should just ... You think that the last show is gonna air, and it just doesn't." Put that woman in charge of the network!
Gimme a piece of that metrosexual pie!
"Will & Grace" wins the prize. You heard it here first. OK, you probably heard it elsewhere first, or decided it all by yourself. Nah, you wouldn't do that to me. Anyway, "Will & Grace" is easily one of the best sitcoms on TV. But you knew that already. Stop thinking on your own, damn it!
Those who wander by "Will & Grace" occasionally on their way to some other, far more important high-quality programming, like "CSI" or "Extreme Makeover," might have the impression that the show is just an endless progression of sight gags, incredibly cruel jokes and gay innuendo. But those aren't the only reasons to watch. Karen (Megan Mullally) and Jack (Sean Hayes) are easily the best sitcom characters around, and Will (Eric McCormack) and Grace (Debra Messing) get more entertaining every season. Rosario (Shelley Morrison) tends to make any scene she's in hilarious, most notably last season's finale, in which she (or, more likely, a stunt double) did an impressive swan dive off the back of a yacht to save Karen from drowning. Hell, even Harry Connick Jr. is great on this show.
So why doesn't anyone seem to care? Ratings are solid, but the show doesn't seem to garner the same kind of attention that other really great sitcoms have. Maybe there's some kind of a backlash against "Will & Grace" among metrosexuals who don't want to seem quite so metrosexual, so they're no longer using Kiehl's aftershave or growing little square plates of wheat grass on their living room tables or laughing at jokes told by witty gay men. Well, go ahead and ditch the mango body butter, but don't neglect to give this excellent show a little face time. Do it while you've got white strips on your teeth, I don't care. Just pay attention. See how the writing is clever and weird and truly creative? See how each scene has a great pace and bounce to it?
In last week's premiere, Jack and Will's scenes, in particular, were incredibly well choreographed. Their jokes spewed out at such a rapid clip, while remaining totally understandable, and their movements and over-the-top expressions were perfectly timed and just a little bit tweaked on top of that. I can't figure out how each scene can feel so electric and alive, when so many other sitcoms are populated by zombies haunted by canned laughter.
And I love the blocking on this show, the way the cast's movements never seem forced. I love the way transitions from jokes to serious moments back to jokes never feel awkward. "How do you do that? How do you tell someone that you have kind of a history with that you're just not interested in them romantically?" Will wonders out loud. After a pause, he murmurs, "I guess I could start with a plate of soft cheeses..." The acting is both theatrical and natural; the scenarios are simultaneously absurd and believable. Most of all, the show has such a great dynamic range, with the actors shouting, whining, whispering, hitting every mark with flair and energy.
I swear, these people are always in the zone, and I can't figure out how they do it.
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