CBC Pays the "...Rent."

Today's Globe & Mail has a story by Henrietta Walmark chronicling CBC's latest programming move. This is hard on the heels of a hoity-toity speech by CBC Prez Robert Rabinovich at the Empire Club.

When last we checked in with the CBC, chickens, The Prez chose to outline a major address about how they're going to reach out to the people by speaking to a crowd of the most priveleged insiders in the country. Sigh. When the CBC doesn't get it, you have to admit, they don't get it hard.

I'm reminded of Louis Armstrong's response when someone asked him to define Jazz:

"Man, if you gotta ask, you'll never know."

Apparently, they've ordered two new half-hour pilots of one of the new comedy pilots CBC showed this past January. The lucky (very) show is called This Space For Rent.

Excerpted from the article:

It didn't achieve the highest ratings of the three pilots that aired that week (only 188,000 viewers, compared to Rabbittown's 251,000). And the new episodes won't go directly to air -- they'll be tested with focus groups before any decision is made about turning the show into a permanent series.

But according to Anton Leo, CBC Television's head of comedy, This Space for Rent is an example of the kind of show the network is looking for. Last month in Ottawa, Richard Stursberg, CBC's vice-president of English-language television, told a conference of independent film producers that CBC's mix of genres will henceforth be driven by a new "audience-first" development strategy, with shows that aim to attract a minimum of one million viewers and are "fast-paced, accessible and escapist."

This Space for Rent, says Leo, "possesses a number of characteristics that are in line with what Richard was talking about. It has some lovely comedic situations, strong character and some outright funny lines. So much comedy now comes from either extreme discomfort or tremendous darkness. That's not what this is and not where we want to go."

Television critics were deeply divided about the pilot episode, even here at The Globe and Mail. Henrietta Walmark called it a "knockout comedy" in Globe Television, the paper's Toronto-area TV magazine. Critic John Doyle, on the other hand, found the show's "stoned-slacker" attitude "deeply irritating."

Full Globe article available here... For Americans or others struggling to parse that one million figure -- Canada's population hovers around 30 million right now. Subtract roughly 7 million francophones (mostly in Quebec, who watch Radio Canada, CBC's French service) and you're talking a pool of roughly 23 million potential viewers. Roughing it, that means CBC says it expects to pull audiences that would be, if we were expressing this in American market terms, about 10 million viewers.

That's ambitious, certainly. But it's not impossible. Corner Gas on private network CTV draws 1.5 million viewers a week. (Coincidentally or no, that show is escapist, and certainly anything but dark -- but not particularly fast-paced.) CBC has, in the past, achieved those kinds of numbers for their comedy shows, newscasts, and (it's Canada) Hockey.

The question is, is This Space for Rent the right horse to back, right now?

Here's what I had to say about it when it aired back in January:

I wanted to like the third show, This Space for Rent. (Wed, Jan 4, 9pm) A comedy based in Vancouver could work. There's one great scene with actor Jason Bryden, where he haggles with a Chinese street vendor in perfect Cantonese over the price of fish. At least I think it was Cantonese. Might have been Mandarin. Anyway, that was a funny scene. It's an incidental scene going on while two of the female characters lay pipe for the main plot. As he drives away on his Vespa, Bryden says, "Your life makes me sad." Funny line. Good scene. Is he the main character? Er...no.

There's also some good business with actress Emily Hampshire, playing a junior lawyer forced to be one of the boys in her new firm. There's some funny slapstick to be had there as she struggles to "act like she's got a pair." Is she the main character? Er...no again.

Ulitmately, This Space For Rent is pretty impossible to love. First of all, it's an hour long. And you feel every second of that hour. Jerry Seinfeld once opined "I'm not sure comedy wants to be a movie." Well, the one thing I'm sure of is that unless you're prepared to go the comedy-drama route, comedy doesn't really want to be an hour. The hour long epsiodes of Frasier, Seinfeld, Cheers, and Friends were always deadly.

The second problem is the main character, Lucky. (Dov Tiefenbach) Tiefenbach's got a comedy face, that's for sure. He took a very small role in Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle and made it memorable. But, alas, his character here is a twentysomething writer trying to find himself. He gets depressed, whines, stays in his apartment for thirty days, gets static from his impossibly understanding doctor girlfriend, then writes a letter to the editor and gets a monthly column to bitch in Vancouver magazine. Yay, Lucky. Good for you! Now where's my glock? BLAM! I'm dead. Sorry, Lucky.

Twentysomething angst is something everyone goes through. It is not inherently interesting. When will writers and commissioning editors learn this? This can be your character's viewpoint, but it is not funny in and of itself. You need funny things to happen.

The kind of journey Lucky goes through in this pilot, might have been the plot of a middling Canadian film. But it does nothing to set up the central conflict or template for an ongoing series. And with an hour to establish character and tone (which is also all over the place -- from trendy film-effected montage and manipulation shots to slapstick to loopy drug humor; it's all in the pot: "let's cook it and see if anything sticks once we heat it and it explodes onto the wall,") the closest I can come to an idea of template is that from week to week we'd get to see Lucky write his column, Hate Male, (yup, I know) while his friends all try to find themselves. Which is pretty much a one-minute pitch. I would think that after 48 minutes of TV, I'd know more. I don't. If you can't make me fall in love with your characters and your world in 48 minutes, I don't think you should get to make a series.

The full post is here.

The problem here is that a lot of new things are being said, but in the end they add up to the same old same old. CBC has, forever, been obsessed with drawing younger viewers/listeners, yet they never really seem to come up with anything that sticks.

Rent condescends. Contrary to what Anton Leo thinks, the characters are all pretty whiny and mopey. This is not Friends in Vancouver. There’s no unified point of view.

Funny thing about Canada. We don’t really have that many series that are recognizably set in Toronto, even though it’s our largest city. Regional resentment runs that high. In fact, the ratio of Newfoundland-set series to Toronto set series on the CBC in the last few years probably hovers around 3:1.

Imagine not setting a series in New York, because people resent New York. Well, welcome to Canada.

Vancouverites are the worst for resenting Toronto. Seriously – the cliché that Vancouverites pull out is that in Toronto, someone will ask you what you do within five minutes of every conversation. (That’s true.) Vancouverites don’t see the flipside of that equation, though – every conversation with every person I’ve ever met from the West Coast turns within five minutes to some serious Toronto-hatin’. The funny thing is that, when you point out the former to a Torontonian, they’ll laugh and nod. Yup. That’s what we’re about.

Vancouverites? Can’t laugh about anything to do with themselves. Go on. Try it. Make a joke to a Vancouverite about their city. Then duck. Yup. Those are mountains. They’re beautiful. Can we just move on?

Vancouver, in other words, isn’t the most universal setting for a Canadian series. It’s a very strange place, and it doesn’t translate. I think Canadians, most of us, have a far easier time imagining Montreal or Newfoundland or hell, Calgary, than Vancouver. It’s a place unto itself. So making it the base for your big comedy splash? Iffy. Pitching your series to a demographic that’s used to Friends, and doesn’t watch CBC? Iffier. Giving TWO more pilots to a show that already had one-hour – well…that’s just…I don’t know. Words fail.

If there was really something so unbelievable, so original about the concept for This Space for Rent, then I could almost see going with TWO HOURS of test material to try and tinker and get it right. But there isn't.

However, now that they’ve gotten the call, I wish them nothing but massive karmic success. Seriously. Another failure for CBC does no one in the Canadian TV industry any good.

But I can’t help but feel, having read a couple of really funny, tightly constructed, unique and accessible half-hour scripts currently in development at other Canadian networks, the question that nags at me is this:

Is anyone good even going to approach CBC anymore? Or have we all given up?

They may have the space for rent, but is talent really buying anymore?

I'll say this about him...

That Tony Soprano, he sure don't disappoint.

Uncle June!

Do You Know This Man?

His name is Ernie.

Well, not really. That's just a nickname. But Ernie has been a fixture at the corner of Yonge & Gould Streets in Downtown Toronto for 25 years.

In my yooot, like thousands of other Ryerson University students, I would pass by Ernie's cart every day. His hotdogs were good, and they were cheap. He gave a bursary to students low on cash. He told corny jokes and played the best of the Village People. And he was there. Always.
Well, he's not going to be there anymore. Ernie retired last week, at the age of 78 -- for the second time. The first time he retired, it was as an electrical engineer in fibre optics. He traded fibre for processed meat, and the bellies and hearts of Downtown Toronto students were all the better for it.

There's a lot I'll miss about Ernie. Not the least of which was his penchant for greeting me -- every time -- with a delighted, "Hello, young fella!"

Now, I'm sure he greeted every "young fella" that way. But that's not the way I remember it. Not long after graduating Ryerson, after working in the industry for a few years, one of my writing mentors lured me back to start teaching part time. I was 25 -- not that much older than the students I was teaching. Well, the march of time is cruel -- because over the next 10+ years, I got another year older and they stayed exactly the same age. I can't believe more teachers don't go batshit crazy. My teaching experience now has pretty much left me with the inability to remember a name. That's what having to learn forty new names every three months and then never see them again does to you. But when I passed Ernie's cart, rushing back to my day job, or post-day job, walking down the street after class trying to figure which coffee shop would bear my writing burden today, I was always up for an Ernie dog. And I was always a young fella.

When you spend a lot of time inside your own head, and when you live alone, to boot -- it's easy to lose perspective. I've been in a bit of a melancholy downtick, lately. Nothing too serious. The kind of thing that you know you're going to bounce back from, you just aren't too sure of the timing. (In fact, sometime in the next few days, I think I'm going to have news. Good news.)

Anyway, when I'm feeling the mean reds, I think of Ernie - a guy who survived leukemia, who walked away from one life, and found another. Who always had a kind word, and who never failed to call out to a young fella who was probably taking himself too seriously.

Anyway, Ernie, goodbye and thanks for the sauteed onions at no charge. That's the kind of value you don't find in Toronto.

You can read the Toronto Star article on Ernie's retirement here.

The Strangeness of Fans

This post is going to be about Battlestar Galactica. Well, not exactly. Keep reading : I promise, no spoilers. For those of you who live in Canada and who watch the series on the SPACE channel, you're only at episode 9 or 10. The point I'm going to make in this post doesn't require me to reveal any heavy spoilers, but if you're one of those people who don't want to know ANYTHING about what happens next -- you may want to skip this post. If 10 was "highly spoileriffic" and 1 was "not very spoiler-y at all" I would put this post at a 2. It's about fan reaction, not content. I would ask anyone who comments on this post to follow my lead and not mention specific details of plot for any of the "Season 2.5" BSG episodes. There are plenty of BBoards where you can go have your say on that. I reserve the right to delete any comment I find spoiler-y. Okay? Let's skip down a bit.


















Now, to keep my promise and make my point, I'm going to say this: In the finale of the 2nd season for BSG, something strange happens. It's a bold move, and dramatically, it's a really exciting one. It allows Season 3 to go off in all sorts of fun and interesting directions. It makes perfect sense in terms of storytelling economy, and moving the thematic base of the series forward. It shuffles the deck, and is probably one of the boldest season finale moves I've ever seen.

And when it was over, I put my head in my hands and thought to myself:

"the fanboys are going to go INSANE."

I've had my experience with this, working as I did for the Canadian Sci-Fi channel, SPACE. Heck, I was there from the beginning of that channel. I helped get it on the air. Fans, of course, come in all shapes and sizes and temperaments -- but when it comes to sci-fi, there's also a lot of what we came to call, "crazies."

I think Shatner, in that famous sketch, called 'em "Get-a-Lifers."

Anyway. Some of the things that surprised me most when I got my dose of exposure to scifi fans was the following: a) as a whole they're really really conservative (they hate change) b) they think of themselves as very smart and sophisticated and c) they're really not as smart and sophisticated as they think they are.

I never really watched or followed soaps, so I have no firsthand knowledge of this, but I've heard that every fandom has its quirks. Soap-fan friends of mine report that yes, there are Soap-crazies, including those who don't really seem to grasp the difference between Actor and Character. But when it comes to Sci-fi, the thing that always struck me most was that gap: the gap between how they viewed themselves and how they actually were. Ronald Moore has done a lot to mess with that gap with his re-invention of Battlestar Galactica. There are still those fans out there, frothing, furious that the new series didn't follow the old. They're mad about Starbuck being a girl, and -- this is my favorite part -- they keep insisting that the show is one moment away from death and cancellation -- despite the fact that critically and by every measurement imaginable, this is a sea-change hit for SciFi.

A lot of fans seem to hate sex. Objectification, awesome. But actual sex between people? Icky. Others insist that the vision of humanity on the run is too dark. They prefer the original's escapist hijinks. Whatever you think of that artistic taste issue (and it is a taste issue) the thing they seem to hate the most is that this show is drawing accolades and praise from non-scifi viewers. It's reached beyond the core audience. By my reckoning, only two genre shows have done that in the last 20 years: Star Trek: The Next Generation (which everybody watched. In fact, every incarnation of ST lost more of the "non-scifi" people til Enterprise, sadly, was left with the rump) and X-Files. Now, BSG has got that cachet. And it's driving them crazy.

I know for a fact that here in Canada, BSG has proven to be a portal show -- ie: people who don't watch the channel much are seeking it out. I have no reason to believe it's any different in the USA. That's incredibly significant.

And the culture clash between sci-fi fans and (for lack of a better term let's call them) drama fans is making for some very interesting reading. Because the drama fans DO tend to be a little more sophisticated. They know a little more history, a little more about politics, a little more about relationships. (These are all wild generalizations, I know, but they are my impressions.)

I'm still working through what my policy's going to be on reading BBoards once I get a show on the air. I'm sure it will happen eventually, though it might be an act of hubris to think that there will be an online community that cares enough about any show I create enough to comment. But let's take that as read. I don't know what I'm going to do -- how much contact I'll have. I doubt I'll go into the point-by-point lunacy of, say, Kevin Smith, responding in kind. I'd like to think I'd go the Ronald D. Moore route. Do a podcast. Answer questions submitted by online people, that sort of thing. I cringed when I saw that Moore's wife was wading in to threads on the SciFi Channel boards. I wonder if she knows what she's getting into.

Writers dealing with fans and how to handle it is a thing that a lot of people are talking about right now. Artful Writer has an excellent post that touches on this.

But after all my rambling, here's the thing that I find interesting. Fascinating, really. And I don't understand it.

Now this is a highly unscientific measurement, and I did not read every post. But if you go to the Sci-Fi Channel's Battlestar Galactica board and read the reaction to "Lay Down Your Burdens" -- it's really, really negative. Classic Sci-fi fan reaction. "Gaah! Change! Hate it! I'm betrayed.!"

If you go to the BSG board on Television Without Pity, and read that reaction, it's way more positive. And what's more, the analysis is smarter.

So...here's my question. And I really don't know the answer.

Is this a Jets and Sharks thing?

Are the sci-fi geeks at the Sci Fi Channel and the Drama fans at TWOP?

I don't know.
But it sure is weird.

S Minus 1

One More Sleep.

S Minus 2

Ahhhhhhh.

Viewing Enhancement

The O.C.
is a much,
much,
much,
much
better
show
when
you've
been
drinking.

S Minus 3

Oooooh.

David Mamet's Unit: "That's The History of the World"

Well, Alex seems to have hated it. The Mad Pulp Bastard, Bill Cunningham, wasn't too complementary (down there in my comments below) -- but judging by the Nielsens, America has another take on it: They love The Unit.

From Variety:

According to national estimates from Nielsen, "The Unit" averaged a hearty 5.1 rating/12 share in adults 18-49 -- the best showing for a noncrime CBS drama since "Touched by an Angel" six years ago -- and 18.5 million viewers overall, the largest audience for a regular Eye program in the timeslot in nearly seven years.

The drama from 20th Century Fox Television, starring Dennis Haysbert and Scott Foley, improved on its solid lead-in from "NCIS" (3.8/10, 17.21m) and also gained 1 share from its first half-hour to its second (4.8/12 to 5.3/13 in 18-49) -- a good sign for a premiere.

The 5.1 rating in 18-49 reps a 50% rise from the 3.4 CBS had averaged in the 9 p.m. hour since "American Idol" bowed on Fox in mid-January and shook up the night. Among all regular-slot drama bows this season, only ABC's "Invasion" (which followed "Lost") had a higher 18-49 score.

"The Unit" also earned a big 7.0/15 in adults 25-54, drawing nearly the same rating among men as women.

A high male rating, high female rating, solid numbers for 25-54, massive rise in 18-34, build on the lead in, and build in the second half hour? That's pretty much ratings nirvana, kids.

And this is where sometimes negative hype helps. I just skimmed, didn't read, the comments below -- but I got the sense of a negative spin going in. So I girded myself, because I was really looking forward to this show. Being disappointed by it would be a bummer.

Luckily, I wasn't disappointed. I'd call it a solid B+. I'm not a big CBS viewer. Wait a minute, what do I watch on CBS? Mmm. None of the CSI's, no NCIS...holy cow...there's not a single CBS show that I watch regularly. Wow.

Okay. They got me for one.

When they announced The Unit, the thing that attracted me to it was obviously Mamet, plus Shawn Ryan, who's proved himself a deft, muscular storyteller with The Shield. I was interested to see if Mamet-rhythm-and-worship and Ryan's cable-pedigree could translate to network -- especially a red meat, red state, stodgy old warhorse like CBS.

Let's face it. There's not a blessed thing that's original about The Unit. We've seen the Special Forces thing before. In fact, we've even seen the wives-home-thing before, in good old Mel's We Were Soldiers, co-starring Madeleine's Stowe's freakishly botoxed lips.

The intriguing thing about The Unit for me was seeing how Mamet and Ryan would spin these all-too-familiar tropes. And after seeing the pilot, I can honestly say that I wasn't disappointed.

First, there's the cast. Dennis Haysbert, Scott Foley, Robert Patrick, Regina Taylor? You had me at hello.

So what if there's a silly teaser -- and it was pretty silly -- it's nice to see something blow up and things go down. You're thinking, "Yup, I've seen this before." Great. Solid. Safe. CBS.

And then they start fucking with you. There's a bit of Mametspeak in the hood -- but just a bit -- The way Foley calls Haysbert "Top," the fast-scene where they spring into action at the wooded cottage of the ex-unit member -- where everyone moves quickly and at once and doesn't pause to let you the viewer in -- well, that could have been straight out of HEIST or SPARTAN...

...then there's what I think is the poignant subtext to that scene -- a subtext that I haven't seen anyone comment on so far. There's all this fooferal about "Don't you lure my husband back, he's not coming back" -- which to me plays as wife-and-commander in cahoots to try and give dignity to the badass commander who's there in the wheelchair. He obviously aint coming back, guys. He's in a wheelchair. Then there's a left turn: he offers Foley's newbie the gun -- and the scene, like most of Mamet's best, has just gone in a different direction. He was showing the new guy off. And once he passed muster, he was offered the gun. This was a scene about cost (the guy in the wheelchair) and initiation. Then the crisis begins, and the real initiation begins. I dig it.

You've got a problem in these shows, right off the bat. Because this show's about hard men. Scott Foley's the new guy -- but unlike the pilot for Conviction, you can't view this sucker through the eyes of the new guy -- the naif. Because that's not the guy's character. He's worked hard to be here, and he's not going to show jack shit. You're dangerously close to the edge when you show the scene of him looking at the picture of the wife and kids. Haysbert's response to that is particularly stoic and Mametian.

For as much as people admire Mamet, and as much as writers like to hold him up as an ideal, it's funny to me that a lot of people miscalculate why Mamet wields such power. Everybody knows that Mamet cadence, that poetry...but not many people cotton onto the other element that makes Mamet Mamet -- he constructs worlds that are not realistic, but that are heightened. It's not reality. It's Mametovision. Whether it's the bluster of those real estate agents in Glengarry, the thieves of Heist, Val Kilmer in Spartan -- Mamet-speak and plotting isn't about real life, it's about constructing extreme situations and extreme versions of how to get out of it -- usually with the power structure stacked against you.

So for his pilot, Mamet shows you just how badass his Unit is by putting them in the worst, most extreme case they can possibly be in: an operation in the United States, that puts them at odds with the Posse Comitatus act.

It's interesting to me that the phrase is thrown around twice in the pilot, yet none of the commenters I've trolled reading online seems to have picked up on it, and wondered at its significance. It is a big deal...it raises the stakes for these guys beyond failure. Beyond Death. Sure, we've seen death before. These guys put their lives on the line, blah blah blah - and they never get credit or thanks blah blah blah -- but in this case, if they fail, not only do they open themselves to risk of life, not only do they risk failing, or killing hostages -- they go in knowing that if they fail, their government won't just deny they exist -- they'll turn on them and hang them out to dry.

That is a very Mamet theme. And the fact that these guys don't blink in the face of that, well...that's just how badass they are. They're so badass they'll threaten the lives of FBI agents because that's what needs to be done.

We don't even blink when Jack Bauer tortures anyone anymore. But that was truly shocking.

And that, chickens, is the point.

Nice ticking clock, too...they let you know that the whole point of these terrorists is to inflict maxium damage on the newscrews, Fire, Cops, and early responders -- so by threatening them and going in first, they're really protecting them. Neat trick.

Second inversion of cliche: the whole women's subplot. I mentioned We Were Soldiers above. They really did do the same plot that time, and it used a lot of the same cliches, but it layed there flat. What I liked about how they used the idea in The Unit was firstly, the way they're telegraphing right off the bat that this marriage isn't maybe the most solid: the wife thinks that the husband will be pissed, but when he comes home, he's not the slightest bit surprised that he's moved in across the street. The husband aint coming clean with his wife.

And if you missed the subtlety of that, a moment later, just as we've spent the whole ep building up the stoicism of the wives, and the family nature of the Unit, we get a nice, solid dollop of soapy-opera goodness. These people aren't Red State, Military Robots. They're just as screwed up as the rest of us.

Meanwhile, we do get to see the naif who's resisting the world she's been parachuted into, but it's the new guy's wife, someone who would be more likely to react badly and show it.

She's unsympathetic, sure, but then there's a key piece of dialogue that shows you why: "If he gets killed, in 90 days I'm off the base."

Ouch. That's true. That's so. They may "stick together" and "act like family" -- but that's also an illusion that's meant to help them cope. The reality is that on another level their husbands are tools, to be taken out and used. The support only goes so far. From the Earth To The Moon also did a good job of showing this side of the home front. In any case, it's nice to know that the "homefront" stuff isn't just going to be long-suffering wives.

And then there's Regina Taylor's speech, which ends in the line quoted in the title of this post. I laughed out loud. Man. Now THAT is Mametspeak.

I think The Unit, at least in Pilot form, did a pretty good job of setting you up for one reality that feels familiar -- and then sneaking in some other, more interesting themes underneath. This is not the straight-ahead double of NCIS or JAG. Interestingly, though, it'll still play to that crowd. That might be the most subversive thing about it.

It's sad that a lot of that has to be snuck in these days, but if that's the way it is, so be it. I thought The Unit's pilot was a nice mix of smart and familiar. I think CBS has got a hit, and at least one new viewer, (at least for an hour a week.)

Plus, I think Shawn Ryan's stock just went up.

Sons & Daughters

Hmmm -- not much commenting below.

You lurking Canadians -- yes, I'm pointing at you -- you burn my ass.

Anyway, I thought Sons & Daughters easily outpaced Free Ride in the battle of the partially-scripted shows. I think it has a deeper cast, first of all. It's wonderful to see Max Gail back on TV. Shout out to the Barney Miller fans!

In Sons & Daughters, the improv back and forth did allow for some quirky and shaggy laughs that didn't go where you expected them to. It leant a winning unpredictability to things. I also think the plotting and basic structure of the episode was far more succinct, clear, and tight than Free Ride.

But maybe Sons & Daughters' biggest feat is this: you're talking a huge cast, and by the end of the second half-hour, every one of those characters were suitably defined. I knew who everyone was -- and I'd already picked a few favorites. It also made me much afeared to find myself half-speculating, "now which of these characters am I most like in my family unit?"

Yeah, it was fun to see former Muchmusic VJ Amanda Walsh up there jazz-handsing mightily, but Fred Goss and Eden Sher were the standouts to me.

From the learn-something-about-writing department -- Randy Wayne's Jeff Fenton was being set up as the standard good-looking jock, and then there's that scene where he dismisses the cute blondes because they're mean to his cousin...yup, the whole ugly-on-the-inside thing has been done -- but what a character-revealing moment: it makes you think totally differently about that character. Not a bad thing for your pilot.

I'll be watching this one til they cancel it. Heh heh. Okay, okay -- maybe not. Supposedly it did build on According to Jim's numbers, and did okay with 18-34's. Not the splash that The Unit (which I still haven't caught up on) made, but not bad. Hopefully it'll be enough to keep it going for a while.

I also liked how small the stories were. With a cast that big, you don't need to advance everything too far each episode, because your crosscutting gives you narrative momentum -- having to service all those characters mean that lateral motion can free you from the need for constant forward narrative motion. It's an interesting technique.

I'm Off...

Well, little overnight Reccy to Detroit and Windsor for a project tomorrow.

Some big new TV tomorrow -- Sons & Daughters, The Unit -- I'll be watching them when I get back -- but in the meantime, feel free to leave your reviews below in comments.

Schreibers!

Sometimes you gotta love those little info-things the Academy does as the people walk up. I'm sitting there and thinking, "Larry McMurtry DIDN'T win for Last Picture Show?"

Hey, just checked...THAT was a category. French Connection AND Clockwork Orange?

I wish that Good Night and Good Luck won the original category. But I can't say I didn't enjoy Crash. Just not as much as everyone demanded we enjoy it. But that was a pretty classy speech.

Tsotsi!

Yes!

A great film.

Boy, I hope Cape Town's celebrating -- uh...tomorrow morning, I guess...

WAY TO GO SOUTH AFRICA!

Another shot to a film industry that's great and growing!

Oscar Geek alert.

Heh heh. How did I miss that Bird York is also the actress who played Toby's wife on West Wing? Heh heh.

Hope she wins.

To Itunes, now.

PS - Should I be worried that I'm het, yet still want to sleep with George Clooney?

Natalie Portman kicks it old school on SNL

I'm sure that YouTube will be forced to take this down just like with "Lazy Sunday" but it's worth checking out while you can.

UPDATE: don't bother. It's gone. Wow. It doesn't take them NBC lawyers long at all, do it?

The thing that it doesn't show is that, as often happens when they take that three week layoff, SNL came back loaded for bear last night. Portman was a pretty fearless host, and very funny. She even took part in a Professional joke in the monologue with Chris Parnell that came right up to the edge of disgusting. And, you know...crossed it. Wow. Really fearless. The Smigel was funny as always, and there were some scabrously funny sketches that -- yay -- weren't tv parodies for a change.

Probably the most I've laughed at an SNL in five years. And if you can do that to me when I'm nursing a petit mal on a Sunday morning, well hell son, that's saying something.

Botched-Co.

Oh Geena.

Three showrunners in one year.

Eek. That aint no way to treat a six foot tall lady.

All The Pretty Lawyers

The great, irascible Tom Shales takes a potshot at Dick "this isn't L&O" Wolf's Conviction.

It's funny. I watched the pilot of this last night and I found myself thinking a lot of things that aren't necessarily about the show. It's that kind of show - diverting, but not absorbing.

The first thing that occurred to me is that Dick Wolf does have an eye for casting. If this catches, could it finally be the show that makes Eric Balfour a star? Then there's Milena Govich, a standout from Rescue Me. Jordan Bridges is surprisingly effective as our young naif on his first day on the job. He looks like Kevin Arnold from The Wonder Years all growed up.

I gather the carryover here is Stephanie Karp from L&O:SVU, which I haven't watched since Belzer came on and started playing Munch-lite.

Everyone is very pretty, and lordyloo, they do not know what they're doing, but they do like to have the sex. In fact, watching Conviction, I had an eerie flashback to the first time I saw Grey's Anatomy. It's got that feel to it. Whether it keeps an audience, I think, largely depends on how much people like these characters. (Which sounds obvious, I know -- but it's actually quite a departure for a Dick Wolf show.)

As a half-step away from the L&O straitjacket, it's probably a good thing. The acting's good. I wish they'd pulled the Buffy-trick and put Elias Koteas in the opening credits, so that his particular plot-turn came as more of a surprise.

The writing was workmanlike. Which means it was fine. Which means it could probably catch on -- but is the audience for this show home on Friday night? I would think that this could maybe NBC's answer to Grey's -- if they're even looking for that.

I also thought a bit about This is Wonderland, the canceled CBC show that's now got a bit of a letter-writing campaign behind it. (If only these people had watched it or shown this kind of support before, then maybe...) Funnily enough, the pilot for Conviction had a lot in common with the pilot for Wonderland.

Except --

There was more sex. Somebody died. There were quiet moments among the screaming.

For as much as the CBC's current "we're going to be popular by being popular" circular argument is silly, if you watch the pilots to Conviction and Wonderland -- I think you might just be able to scratch that head and say, "ohhhh....that's what you have to do to be broad-based popular..."

It will be interesting to see if Conviction ultimately works. The inner viewers in me puts it in the "If I was home, I might watch it again" category; as a professional observer, I'll probably tune it in a couple more times.

But offering the pilot as a free download on Itunes? (alas, USA only...) Maybe they can reach that younger audience. Hmmm...that might just be the most interesting thing about the new show.

Short Hits

It's been a little of this, little of that the last few days here at Dead Things Labs. I'm prepping for a day trip next week that's very top-secret project related -- and will hopefully be inspirational for one of the series I'm trying to crank out right now. It's a pretty key time for that project, and knowing that my focus is going to have be laser-beam intense over the next two weeks, I've been trying to build in some valve time. That leads to diversions.

Diversion One: David Kipen's The Schreiber Theory.

Kipen is now a big cheese at the NEA, I believe, but I always enjoyed his reviews, esp. when he was on KCRW. In this slim little volume, he's taking on the steaming pile of turd that is the auteur theory. "Schreiber" apparently is Yiddish for writer. Jesus, I know I'm an Irish kid from the Bronx, but boy I wish I spoke Yiddish. Anyway... The manifesto part is interesting enough. He does a tip of the hat to other anti-auteurists like Schickel, but the really valuable second part of the book is the list he has of screenwriters, his first attempt to try and promote a way of looking at film through the obsessions of its writers, not the glorified camera jockeys who grab all that undeserved glory. (Trash talking! It's fun!) I'm going to go through some of his lists and do a screenwriter screening as soon as I've got the time.


Diversion Two: Network: Special Edition.

One of my favorite movies, of course. I've been looking forward to this special edition for a while. There's an hour and a half documentary that's just excellent on the whole making of the movie. Sidney Lumet is front and centre through the whole thing, and you see why he's such an effective director, and such a class act.

What makes Lumet doubly interesting is how much he talks about the comedy and the tone, and how tightly he reined in the actors by making the script the king. I'd forgotten that the movie actually was titled Network by Paddy Chayefsky. Lumet makes that absolutely clear here -- that the vision he was trying to bring to life was Chayefsky's. (Hilariously, of course, on Amazon there's no mention of Chayefsky. Typical)

Lumet is candid and illuminating talking about story, and how he and Chayefsky collaborated, how much rehearsal helped things, and how they talked Faye Dunaway into giving such a brilliant but unsympathetic peformance.

There's a couple anecdotes that I won't spoil about specific times when Chayefsky stepped in and taught Lumet how not to crush the laugh in his material. Lumet is my kind of guy -- he's clear that he and Chayefsky fought -- but that the creative process they were partners in demanded that, and that the material was all that mattered.

If you're an insecure director who's done three margarine ads and is rushing to take that A Film By credit, this whole special edition is going to give you nothing but agita.

It's also nice to see Cronkite pop up.

It's almost a cliche now to point out that Network, viewed 30 years on, looks almost like a documentary rather than a satire -- but what's most sobering about this time trip are the things you realize when you watch. This movie was released by a major studio. It was a hit. Not a huge hit, maybe, but it made money. It is funny, but it's also sophisticated -- in a way that doesn't play wide today. There were some revelations that were a little more prosaic -- like, for instance, I had no idea that the studio sequences were shot in Toronto.

But to me, the price of admission are two excellent features: the AMC movie show that has a full session with Lumet, and a 1976 Chayefsky interview on the Dinah Shore show.

The latter is really the mind bender. First, here's a screenwriter sitting there - smoking - on a daytime talkshow. Talking about a movie like this. Talking about the control the media has. He tells an anecdote about waiting in line for valet parking, and how a guy comes out and says, "I'm the green Lincoln" and everyone clucks and reacts horrified by the implications, the dehumanization of it.

I mean, Jesus -- he's right, but today would anyone give that a second thought? Watching that interview, seeing the serious content being discussed on what was a daytime talk show is just mindblowing. And much as I feel kindred to Chayefsky and his way of looking at the world-that-would-come-after-his-early-death -- I know I am a product of the times after. Cause I'm watching Dinah Shore, and you know what I'm thinking?

Heh. She f***ed Burt Reynolds.

True dat.

(Network is available in a six disc Controversial Classics collection with new Special Editions of Dog Day Afternoon and All The President's Men. The extras on President's Men are also first rate, though I haven't dipped into the commentaries yet.)

Genius.

If all else fails...


Make it a cold show.

Glorious.

Dying is Easy, Three: This Time It's Personal.

What do we do about comedy? Seriously?

It's a question much on the minds of mandarins and networkies everywhere. This season, we've already had a half hour, How I Met Your Mother, that's noteworthy for the fact that a show that's marginal-at-best can be seriously overpraised now, just cause the field is so anemic. A couple years ago, Two and a Half Men filled that psychic sweet spot. The reality is that the mighty half-hour comedy engine has been sputtering diesel oil and PCB's for several seasons now.

There are shows that solidly deliver laughs, of course...Scrubs, for one. Nobody's really watching. Arrested was a gutbuster. Ditto. There's Earl and The Office staking out Thursdays on NBC, but they're a long way in the ratings from those glory days of Cheers and Seinfeld. Now, Will & Grace is gone too.

In Canada, it's worse. Corner Gas. Maybe Trailer Park Boys. That's it. Jerry Seinfeld once famously observed, "I'm not sure comedy wants to be a movie." Well, it certainly doesn't seem to be too horny for TV these days, either.

So out of this comes a vague hope: ape Curb. Bravo in the U.S. had a bit of luck with Significant Others -- a show I haven't seen -- so the new rage is partially scripted. Hey, why not? The shows aren't working. Must be all the writers. Let's throw them out and see how we do.

Except, of course, Larry David is a writer. Some might be cheeky and say the writer. I've never been as much of a fan of Curb as some, but there's no denying that it's funny. That ensemble is talented, and tight. I'm not sure it's a trend that can transfer -- and even if it can, it's not the magic bullet to cure comedy. Anyone who's suffered through an entire improv "show" can tell you that.

So now a couple of mid-season U.S. shows are clinging to the partially scripted come on as a possible defribulator -- a much needed shock-to-the-heart of the moribund state of television comedy in North America.

How are they doing?

Well the first two candidates are Free Ride and Sons & Daughters. I must say that the promos for Sons & Daughters are certainly funny. But FOX got out of the gate first with its semi-scripted Free Ride, which bowed last night after American Idol -- predictably, to great post-Idol ratings. Ryan Seacrest, ladies and gentleman -- the most important tastemaker in America. Brrrrr.

Free Ride doesn't have anything close to an original premise: guy returns from college and moves back in with his parents, whilst trying to romance a high school crush who's recently engaged. Shades of Ed, Garden State, Get a Life, and half a dozen other workmanlike concepts through the years. He's got a jerky mullet-headed sidekick, much mirth is made of his parents' attempts to have sex and get along. The whole thing actually comes off as reasonably joyless -- and that's with a very likable cast trying really hard. Josh Dean and Erin Cahill are cute, and diverting. And the shaggy rhythm of improvisation means that it's not labored like the worst of the clone-sitcoms we've seen for the last few years. But as for the central conceit, there's a commercial that runs here right now in Ontario that covers the same ground: old parents redecorate their sons' bedroom, throw out all his cool stuff, and put up a moose head. Turns out he loves it. He sits down to dinner with them and this old woman walks out of nowhere and rasps in this death-rattle voice: "Want your kids to leave home? Stop cooking with cheese!"

That commercial is funnier than this whole series. That's sad.

The series inherits the post-Family Guy slot Sundays starting March 12, but seeing that's also S-Day in my household, I think the likelihood of this show getting another click from me is pretty low. Only the first ride is free, guys. (Oh, see what I did there? Yes he did. He went there. Snap.)

In Canada, we had our own cute and shaggy little post-Idol carpetbagger, Jeff Ltd. which is written by and stars Jeff Seymour.

I don't know how much improv was involved in this show. It's possible, since the star also is the scriptwriter -- something that always sets off little alarm bells for me. But it's certainly not trying to run with the partially scripted ball like Free Ride, Sons & Daughters, or Curb.

This show is a bit more problematic. I want to be a cheerleader for my industry and local talent, I really do, but sadly the best thing I can say about Jeff Ltd. is that it's directed pretty well: there's a nice, crisp movement to Steve DiMarco's camera that makes me want to see more from him. I've seen comedy killed in Canada by bad direction. This is not that.

No, this is exactly the thing that you have to come to expect when an actor overextends himself. Jeff Seymour's a good performer, and he can be magnetic. But not in this show. Why not? He's got no character. There's nothing to suggest why you should watch this guy, like him, hate him, care what happens for him, wish for him to succeed, or root for him to fail.

You know how Larry David on Curb often starts out with the best of intentions, and then it all goes to hell and that's why it's funny?

Well, Jeff in Jeff Ltd. is a marketing guy. He's venal, shallow, opportunistic, with a huge ego. He's driven by greed and lust. Sounds good so far, right? He's got a female partner/co-worker. How does she feel about him? Vague disapproval, but ... otherwise unclear. He's got a sidekick, but...well, that's unclear, too. He casts an Eastern European stripper in a World Food Organization ad and sleeps with her. At the same time, he's trying to romance a teacher who teaches at the Catholic girls' school across the street. Just so you get that Jeff's a bit of a cad, there's a couple of scenes of him checking out the schoolgirls' short skirts. In the end, the teacher catches him fucking the stripper on a hood of a car. She drives off horrified, and he runs after her...

...but...why? You know? I mean, there's nothing that's been put out there to tell you why he actually cares about this woman. Why would he bother chasing after her? Why do his co-workers act the way they do? Why don't they have characters? Why is no one allowed to outshine or upstage Jeff, even for a moment? And why should we care about Jeff, even for a second, when he shows no redeeming or even interesting qualities whatsoever?

Does that sound harsh? I don't mean it to be. But watching this pilot, I was just shocked by the number of easy, clarifying fixes that could have made the thing funnier and clearer, that were just missed opportunities. If the female co-worker had been Jeff's boss, then he would have had to scheme without her catching on. There's a hint of that in there still, but it doesn't go far enough. What's the stake? Beats me. This is sometimes the blind spot that actors bring to actor-driven projects. They assume that if they're a compelling enough performer, that the viewer will just fall into line and love them. But that's not the way it works. It's understandable if you come from the school where "you create the character you play." But the character, like it or not, has to exist on the page before you pick up and imbue them with life. That's the common thing that both these semi-scripted shows, and Jeff Ltd. seems to miss.

A character who's slightly unlikable but still compelling? See, that kind of character is a real trick to pull off. Steve Carell and Ricky Gervais pull it off in their respective flavours of The Office because you see the loneliness and need lurking just underneath the surface. Larry on Curb is at least trying to do the right thing --sometimes.

Recently, I've been watching back one of those legendary old comedy series that never caught on but everyone still talks about: Buffalo Bill. At the time, Dabney Coleman's character was considered just too mean. (Now, of course, Hugh Laurie's Dr. House would have him for lunch and cure his ball cancer too -- probably while inducing a therpeutic heart attack.) You know the genre's in trouble when the funniest characters are on Drama shows.

Even in Buffalo Bill there's a window in. Because though he's a cad, he's got the love of Joanna Cassidy's character, JoJo...he's got admiration from a very young Geena Davis, and that other actor who did the voice of Piglet back in the day. See? He may seem like he's a jerk, but these other people see something in him...so there must be something else going on there.

Go back to the well on Cheers and in that first episode, you've got a tough sell. Sam Malone is a womanizing, ex-baseball player, alcoholic who owns a bar. But you know what? By the end of that first episode you see how much he loves Coach, how loyal he is to Carla, and he's even decent to Diane when her fiance leaves her high and dry. That's why you want to come back.

It's not enough to ask us to care about characters because they're the leads in your series. What is the world? Who are the people in it? How do they feel about each other? And why do I want to go back there again? Ultimately, by the end of Free Ride and Jeff Ltd. none of those questions are answered. And that's why I don't want to go back.

This is about the time that I'd get depressed. Luckily, in the last couple of weeks, I've read a couple of half-hour series scripts that are either shooting or on the verge of (hopefully) going into production -- and these scripts have heard. They hit all those points. You see the world, you get the relationships, and you want to come back. It can be done.

Improv isn't the answer, and neither is widening the auteur theory to include Actors. The answer is writing. Heartfelt, funny, well-drawn characters. A solid template. A believable world. An engaging premise.

Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.

But that's just me.

I could be wrong.

Dishing Life on Mars

Little logrolling to start the morning off right. I'm going to try to get something up about Free Ride and Jeff Ltd. later today. But for now, Danny Stack's got a great convo with one of the creators of the BBC's hit Life On Mars, which will be returning with new episodes next year. (The first series just ended in the UK this week; no word yet on when we'll see it over on these shores.)

Also, can someone fill in my cultural memory hole here: did the 70's British cop show The Sweeney (from which Life on Mars takes much inspiration) ever play in the USA or Canada?

My favorite bit:

We pitched it to then controller of BBC1 who had some reservations but commissioned Matthew to write a script. After a few drafts the BBC decided to pass on the project. But a BBC producer called John Yorke always liked the idea and when he went to C4 he took the project with him. Matthew wrote dozens of versions of the first episode and we were just about to get a green light when C4 got cold feet and rejected it. By now, though, Julie Gardner was at BBC Wales so Kudos took it to her and she loved it and managed to persuade the powers that be that it was worth making.

Once again, multiple network executives, who get cold feet and won't go forward before one brave and smart soul takes the leap. And thus a hit is birthed.

This is an incredibly instructive point that can't be overstated -- especially in Canada, where the network people have pretty much all the power, and aren't usually so bold. (It's not the Canadian way to be bold, after all.) But every hit that ever hit needed a network person in their corner -- going out on on a limb.

Shows that EVERYONE AGREES ON never get to be hits. They get to be bland pablum.

Anyway. Go read about Life on Mars. I've got coffee to drink and two scripts to read.

This Cup Can Make You A Better Writer.

Do you recognize this cup?

If you're a New Yorker, I'm sure you do. In fact, if you've spent any time in New York at all any time in say the last forty years, you probably recognize this little sucker right away. And I'm betting that there's a hint of a smile on your face.

In the pre-Starbucks days, this is the coffee cup you would get when you grabbed a coffee at any deli anywhere in Manhattan. I've gulped from a cup just like this walking through the East Village. I downed a mouthful of cold coffee out of a cup like this outside CBGB's (along with a handfull of Advil.) One time, when I was about twenty, I picked a cup like this off the ground and put it in the garbage precisely two seconds before the karmic lightning bolt hit and I caught the impossible- to-find-cab- in-the-middle-of- the- rainstorm- when-you're-late- for- the-theater-matinee- because- your-girlfriend- took- such-a-long-time-on -her-hair.

In its own weird way, it's as much an icon of New York City as the Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, or the Twin Towers.

I got thinking about this little cup the other day when my friend Rob was over at Dead Things HQ. Awhile back, I was checking out the MoMa reno in the City, and found this little cup in the gift shop. It's a ceramic replica of the famous paper-coffee cup. At ten bucks, it made me smile. (If it does the same for you, you can get info about how to purchase one here.)

Anyway, Rob was over and we were trying to break a nettlesome story for his series for, like, the sixth time, and he complimented my coffee-making skills. It was good coffee. (Yes, the entire conversation went like this. Very Grade-three-Gay. And don't give me shit for describing it thus...Dan Savage says I'm in the clear.) Anyway, more than the coffee itself, Rob really liked the cup. It evoked in him the same feeling it evoked in me, an instant nostalgia for all things New York.

What struck me later was not how he instantly recognized and responded to the cup the same way I did. I found that utterly unsurprising. Of course he'd dig it. It's yet another case of how our sensibilities are similar.

See, at that point, that little cup could be considered the objective correlative of both our friendship, and of our separate, warm memories of New York.

It's been a while since I talked about the Objective Correlative. Even then, I didn't get into it too much. Danny Stack followed up on the idea with a longer post here.

I guess the reason why I'm returning to the idea again is because lately I've been reading a lot of scripts where people talk about things, but where there isn't a real clear sense of the objective correlative working through the drama. It reads as flat. The simple realization that a tiny object like a coffee cup could make me think of my past, and reaffirm a friendship...well, that's interesting stuff. It's not just drama -- it's life.

T.S. Eliot came up with the Objective Correlative, in his writings on Hamlet. Here's what he said:

The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding an "objective correlative"; in other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked.

That's exactly what happened with me and the coffee cup.

My reaction to the cup evoked everything I mythologize about New York. And later, it indicated camaraderie between me and my friend -- so it took on a separate, instant meaning in a different situation.

Interestingly enough, this little cup's gotten quite a workout -- because now that I think about it, I remember that about six months ago I had a woman over and we were chatting. We'd been out a few times, and it was at that point where you're not sure which way it's going to go. She asked about the cup. I told her the story, and she was utterly unimpressed. She'd been to New York several times. She vaguely remembered the cup. She just thought it was a little...stupid.

Guess what I realized in that moment?

"Damn You, Objective Correlative! Damn You to Hell!"

As I've gotten older, I'm fascinated by the fact that I'm much more interested in Sports than I was when I was younger. My Dad and My Uncle used to take me to Yankees and Blue Jays games, and my Grandfather was a huge Mets fan -- some of my earliest memories of him are watching the game with him on an old black and white TV set. He died when I was seven, so that's a pretty potent memory. But still, I managed to sail through my teenage years and most of my twenties without reading the Sports section daily. Not anymore.

I think part of it is that as we get older, Sports increasingly becomes the objective correlative of male friendship. The game allows you to express emotion, bond, catharsis, the whole magilla. The Poker Craze, I believe, is part and parcel of the same thing. I read Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch and laughed my ass off, and I don't give a fig about Soccer.

By looking and finding the objective correlative of emotions in your life you start to unlock the inner life; the one you don't express consciously, but imbue to objects or situations. I think that helps you to unlock a trove that can help you weave the objective correlative more successfully into your art.

Understanding and recognizing the objective correlative in life makes you a better writer.

One totally non-scientific thing I've noticed, for instance, is that women who understand men's attachment to sports, or who appreciate men's penchant for silly or gross humor, kind of tend to understand men better in general.

An acquaintance of mine was having problems in his marriage, at the same time that his old car was constantly breaking down. This went on for a couple of years. One night, like a bolt out of the blue, he realized that he and his wife fought every time there was a problem with the car. Sometimes it was when she had the car -- and he probably blamed her. Sometimes it was when he was driving it, and it made him irritable. It went on and on, and they fought and made up. Then he got a new car. For two months, they didn't fight. But one night, when they did -- they nearly broke up. Their marriage was at the brink, and it caused them to finally face some of the big, structural, ugly things at the core of their marriage. His wife said a lot of the same stuff she'd said before...but finally, finally, he got it. (They're still together, by the way.)

Now...did that have anything to do with the car? Did the car being there offer a valve, a distraction, a symbol that kept them from getting to the core of things? Did removing it remove that valve and force a confrontation? I don't know. What do you think?

I'll tell you what, though, it's a damn sight more interesting than any of the other stories I've heard from half a dozen guys about how they fight with their wives (or ex-wives, as the case may be.)

Writing drama is about coming up with an effective shorthand for life, and putting it down on the page.

Seems to me that old T.S. Eliot gave us a great gift. I knew he did a lot more than come up with those damn singing cats.

I was going to come up with a few more examples from movies and TV -- but maybe that could be the audience participation portion of the post. So come on: what are your favorite filmic examples of the O.C. at work?

Now, I have to go and write a one-pager that basically demonstrates how the O.C. works in my choice of venue for a series pitch I did recently. They bumped on the setting in the meeting, but thanks to a conversation I had last night, I think there may be a way to better explain what I mean. The O.C. is everywhere.

Remember the Cup, Luke.

Electronical Armageddon

It's been a bad 72 hour period here at Dead Things Labs.

First was the inevitable LCD crystal crack of the Ipod Nano. I've been so careful, really. I don't know how it happened. Now the upper half of the crystal is readable, but that's it.

It's a huge pain in the ass.

Then, yesterday, horror of horrors, while reading a script and enjoying one of those fine brands of wobbly pops that the kids love so much, my man-bag fell from the shelf where it was placed lovingly, away from shuffling drunken children's feet. It tumbled to the ground with a sickening thud.

Strangely, the same thing happened in the very establishment approximately a year ago. Then, my beloved G4 Powerbook, which I purchased just before heading off to South Africa, found itself with a bend in the casing near the DVD Superdrive. Later it developed its current malaise -- a faulty venting that means that I often have to work on it with the plug in and the battery out, lest the thing overheat.

This time, there's another bend, and some wobbly badness on the casing of the screen, but so far no new symptoms.

But alas, the other precious was not so lucky. My Pioneer Airware radio, with which I enjoy the charms of XM Satellite Radio, now has a cracked crystal screen. I can now scroll and see the station I'm tuned to...but that is it.

As anyone who's ever experienced this kind of electronical injury knows, the crystal display is never, ever, ever covered under warranty. Yet one more thing that will change when my cult-like armies finally seize control of this benighted republic.

As for now, I'm goddamn bummed out.

Go on. Torture Yourself.

Arrested? Not Arrested? Showtime? No Showtime?

Whatever does it all mean?

"I smoke too much. I drink too much. I am too much."

How did I miss this?

I love Cracker. I love it to pieces. And I have to find out at a poker game that Jimmy McGovern, Fitz, Manchester and Robbie Coltrane are all going to be back on my TV sometime in 2006, even for two hours?

Is it my birthday?

Sure, it'll be weird to see that Jeff guy from Coupling as the new boss, but if you tell me that Penhaligon's back, I don't know what I'll do.

"Pray with Me, Mike..."

Just in case you didn't get the President-Logan-as-President Nixon metaphor.

Heh heh.

Ricky hearts Steve

Oh DEAR.
Canadians, in particular, are going to hate this.

My favorite quote:

"I think American TV is the best in the world. I knew 'The Office' wouldn't be ruined by these people," he says. "But I know American shows would be ruined by English people. We're not as good as you. ... American TV for me, as Randy Jackson would say, is da bomb."

I liked the American Office as soon as it came out. I thought it was well cast, and well executed, and really just needed time to emerge from the shadow of Gervais' personality. That was not a popular view in Canada.

They were wrong. Yet, strangely, not a lot of retractions.

Of course, there never are.

CTV Brings the Funny Wednesday, Post Idol

CTV, one of Canada's private TV networks, is a 900 lb. gorilla right now.

They have all the best U.S. programs...they win the ratings every night of the week. They're so unbeatable, they have all these Canadian shows on the shelf, just waiting for something to be canceled.

But nothing that CTV runs is getting canceled. They just keep backing up the trucks and unloading the money. It's a nice position to be in.

Better still, it means that when they DO finally free up a slot, it's a doozer.

(plug on)

This Wednesday, March 1, CTV will
sneak preview one of its new comedy series, JEFF LTD.
after American-Freaking-Idol.

Man, I'd love that slot.

And I'd hate it. Seriously. Talk about a high profile sink or swim.

If you're here in the Great White North, tune in Wednesday at 9:30 p.m, on CTV. After American Idol.

JEFF LTD. stars and was created by Jeff Seymour, who was last seen in CTV's failed newsmag drama The Eleventh Hour. (I say "failed" despite the fact that it won lotsa Gemini Awards - which are the hee hee Canadian hee hee Emmys--guffaw!; "failed" in the sense that nobody watched it. Ouch. Did he say that? Oh yes he did.)

Despite my usual trepidation/gagging about scripts written and created by actors -- I am told by people who've seen it that this one's actually quite funny. Good. The Canadian Industry needs a homegrown comedy 'win' right now.

/Plug

One Dead Soldier

Well, I just fielded a call from my agent -- a Nice Guy, who to my everlasting dismay and insane jealousy -- is also the possessor of a superior head of hair. In fact, I'll throw down here and put my agent's hair up against the hair of any agent or manager in Canada. That's right, bitches. Not only is he a tough negotiator -- he conditions. Daily.

Anyway, the official word is that one of my projects got a pass from the network. It was by no means a surprise. This project has been cooking on "min" for too long. When I pitched it, I was a completely different person, and a very different kind of writer. It was pre-South Africa, pre-Charlie Jade, pre-a-lot-of-things. It went through lots of changes -- not all of them completely internalized by me, and along the way the project lost an Exec or two. The process made me appreciate the value of having a strong-willed Producer on board to push things along.

Still, it was the first script deal I ever closed, so there's a certain nostalgia to seeing it go. I got paid for two scripts and a series bible, and I'm convinced that, with belief and committment, the series could be great. But that's kind of my job to think that, isn't it?

I don't know where the rights are now, so I need to find that out. If I'm able, I might post some of it here, or use it as an example in future posts. Or as fishwrap. Fish is stinky. It needs to be wrapped.

I'm still busy with other projects, so no tears. Just the usual character-building regrets, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth. Cue the gnashing.