Casual Cogitations

Sitcom veteran Lorre, the executive producer of Two and a Half Men, co-created The Big Bang Theory, but apparently his sizable sitcom fortune hasn’t blunted his anger at the world in general and intellectuals specifically. The Big Bang Theory takes as its premise that people who are super-smart will never have sex, and what’s more, those geeks who attempt to emerge from their socially awkward shells should be viciously attacked. In a funny way, ha-ha-ha.

I'm not sure what Chuck Lorre has against smart people, but with the foul sitcom The Big Bang Theory he tries to have his revenge against anyone with an IQ above room temperature.

CBS is openly aspiring to make itself cooler and to hang with the hipsters, so to speak. What the network fails to realize is that, these days, the nerds are the hipsters. Many far superior fall shows and a host of successful recent movies take as their premise that geeks are gently mockable but also kind of cool and attractive.

Never mind all that. In the eyes of Lorre and his co-creator, Bill Prady, every nerd deserves to be given a wedgie and shoved in a locker.

The unfortunate stars of this show are Johnny Galecki, who plays Leonard, and Jim Parsons, who plays Sheldon. They are undone when a shapely blond neighbor, Penny, moves in down the hall. She is a waitress at the Cheesecake Factory, so, according to the logic of the show, she must be stupid.

Yet Leonard still wants to chat with her.

“But we don’t chat, at least not offline,” Sheldon hyperventilates.

If you have trouble telling Sheldon and Leonard apart, by the way, the former has plaid pants and the latter has thick, black glasses (because apparently geek fashion hasn’t changed a whit since “Revenge of the Nerds,” which came out in 1984).

Big Bang is the kind of comedy that is so proud of a non-funny joke that it trots it out twice (sorry, but the idea of Klingon Boggle is not exactly gut-bustingly hilarious the first time around).

And it crams as many geek stereotypes into the pilot as it possibly can: There are references to Stephen Hawking, all manner of mathematics and Darth Vader shampoo. And of course the closest anyone gets to an actual request for a date is when one of the nerd duo’s friends asks Penny if her avatar can hang out with him in an online game.

The one ethnic character, a nerd of apparently Indian descent, is so flummoxed by Penny that he can’t even speak to her. Raise your hand if you find that even remotely amusing.

Even if the jokes on this show weren’t tired and mean-spirited, it would be hard to care about any comedy that hates its own lead characters so much. It's just the same joke endlessly repeated--the everyday translated into geek-speak, and the obscure and difficult treated as if it were common knowledge.... These are perilous times for sitcoms, and Lorre & Co. may want to think up another.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Arrested Development is the funniest show on television in recent memory, and, in my opinion, bows only before Friends as the funniest show I've ever seen. How dare I make such a brazen claim? I challenge you to acquire watch the first season by any means necessary and watch it. If you sit stone-faced throughout these episodes, I would submit you are either (a) in a coma or (b) wouldn't know what funny is even if it sat on your head and peed on you.

Granted this strong language is frowned upon in our post-modern society of self-esteem bolstering and back-patting, where tastes are deemed relativistic and subjective—but screw it. This show is a breath of fresh air, Actually, strike that; it's a typhoon of goodness that blows away the mildewed, formulaic flotsam that poses as thirty-minute comedy these days. If you're offended when I call you stupid for not liking Arrested Development, tough. That's what you are—stupid!

Well, in this age of decaying television, where a sewage-ridden onslaught of half-assed reality shows seems to be slowly overtaking quality, innovative scripted television—oddly enough this show didn't top the ratings, I know, something is rotten in Denmark.

What separates creator Mitchell Hurwitz's baby from the rest of the pack is the premise of the show: it doesn't play by the rules. There is no formula. There is no laugh track. There are no sweet, sappy-song-driven morals at the end (though they are lampooned).

What you do get is:

The best ensemble cast working on television

From Bateman's deadpan-perfect timing, to Arnett's supernatural sleaziness, to Cross's self-effacing nebbishism, the cast is money. Portia de Rossi's Lindsay, though quite funny, is the only weak link; her character is too one-dimensional. But she would nonetheless be the stand-out in any other series. And that's the most illustrative comment I can say about this cast—each character is so great, they could individually anchor shows. Besides Gob, my favorite is Michael Cera's George Michael. The hardest gut laughs always come from scenes involving this clueless kid.

Multi-layered comedy

Repeated viewings of Arrested Development reveal new gags and jokes. The writers pack so much stuff in their 22 minutes, you might miss something the first time through. They do this by sloughing off the sitcom formula—the show is filmed like a documentary, a creative approach that just opens up the options for the creators to go wild.

Ludicrous narratives

Anything is possible with the Bluth Family. How about a faux drug bust featuring male strippers dressed as cops? An on-the-fly marriage resulting from a series of dares? A "blind" attorney who's faking being blind—but her seeing-eye-dog really is blind? Each episode introduces outlandish plots. Some carry on for several episodes—Buster's relationship with the vertigo-stricken best friend of his mother, the shady dealings of the family attorney, the impossible crush George Michael has for his cousin—and some wrap themselves up by episode's end. Again, a testament to the innovative style.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

"I think that the seal with the yellow bow-tie might be the one that I released into the sea after giving it a taste for mammal blood..." muses a very serious Gob on Arrested Development. It's not just lines like this that make this show brilliant, it's lines like that combined with celebrity cameos, brilliant dead-pan acting, running gags that go throughout the entire season, and some of the best pop culture references outside of Family Guy. In short, if you're not watching this show, you should be arrested.

At one time, Nathan Ford was the best insurance investigator in the business. He was a master at recovering stolen goods, thus saving his bosses millions of dollars in payouts over the years. Unfortunately, the company wasn't interested in returning the favor, allowing Nate's son to die rather than pay for the experimental treatments that might have saved the child.

Crushed by the boy's death, Nate crawled into a bottle, which led to his divorce and finally, his inability to keep a job. Enter Victor Dubenich. Dubenich wants to hire Nate to steal back stolen research from a rival corporation—a corporation insured by the same company that screwed Nate over. Unable to resist the offer, Nate goes to the very best, the thieves and grifters he's spent his whole life chasing. He hires cat burglar Parker, hacker Hardison, and "recovery specialist" Elliott . They make quick work of stealing the research then destroying the computer copies, but once the job is done they realize they've been double-crossed and that makes them all very angry. We like this team, when they get angry.

Now it's time for Nate to pull a con of his own. He brings in the final team member, grifter Sophie and it's payback time. When all is said and done, this team of misfits finds that there's a certain joy in justice, so they decide to put their combined talents to work for the good of common man. Because all you need when fighting a corporate giant is just a little leverage.

The joy of Leverage comes from watching the plan come together. How do you get a crooked contractor to sign over the house he just stole to the people he stole it from? You simply pretend you're building a ski resort then fake an insurance scam, convince the mark Parker has a brain tumor, make two brothers suspicious of each other, then switch the legal documents at the bank, causing them to sign over everything to Nate who can then do what he wants with the assets. Like candy from a baby.

I'll give you that there are moments in the show that make you say, no way, but the writers assure us in the commentary, that (almost) everything they do is actually possible. They've gone so far as to recreate certain moments, such as sending a fake ID fax from a cell phone, just to prove the validity to the network who didn't believe them either.

One of the reasons the show works is because they have an expert in cons on their side who is not to be believed. I stood toe-to-toe with him and didn't see him steal my friend's watch, which turned up on his wrist. Apparently Beth Riesgraf, who plays Parker, learned her lessons so well, everyone checks their pockets whenever she leaves a room.

But even the cleverest con wouldn't be enough to keep you coming back every week if the characters weren't likeable, and that's a real danger when you're doing a show about thieves. Not a problem on this series. Even though they're crooks, these five are oddly relatable. Parker has social issues, which always has her saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Elliot likes to punch things when he gets frustrated. Hardison is an often-overlooked nerd and even the lovely Sophie is plagued by a dream that's always out of reach. And Nate, he's the epitome of "when bad things happen to good people," and you just want to fix him but you can't.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Leverage is the perfect blend of action, drama and comedy. The scripts are clever, the characters are charming, and the overall look is as slick as a feature film. But don't think that funny means light. You're going to have to pay close attention, if you want to follow the twists and turns in the cons, but the payoff is always worth it.

Sitcoms come and go, but it's rare to find a TV show that is consistently fall-off-the-chair funny. Worst Week is that sitcom.

Only a man (or a couple of them) could get paid big bucks in Hollywood to come up with such a lame-o rip-off and perpetuate the fantasy that gorgeous women can't help but to love out-of-shape guys who do everything wrong. And hell, its thanks to them we still catch great shows like Worst Week.

In Worst Week, there's Sam, a guy who knocked up his girlfriend and must win over her wealthy, disapproving parents. Unfortunately, disaster follows Sam, who suffers such horrors as mistaking a cooking pot for a urinal and jokingly telling his girlfriend, ''I'm going to punch you in the face,'' just as her ominous father enters the room. It's a Meet the Parents situation, only much funnier. Bornheimer is the find of the fall season — a stammering, aw-shucksy guy who can get a laugh from just a weird spin on the words ''No? Okay.'' Unlike Ben Stiller's wired energy, which made Parents more tense than funny, Bornheimer absorbs every setback with such a beaten-puppy air that each fresh misery feels ludicrous, rather than merely annoying. Does it work, (worst) week after (worst) week? With Bornheimer, it strangely does. His is a feathery touch on a wrecking-ball comedy.

In the vein of Seinfeld, Friends and Two and a Half Men, the cast for Worst Week was brilliantly assembled. Kyle Bornheimer lays Sam Briggs, a magazine editor trying hard to please his in-laws. Bornheimer’s portrayal of Sam is blessed with spot-on physical comedic timing and a vulnerability that compels viewers to root for him.

Nancy Lenehan and Kurtwood Smith (popularly remembered as the irascible dad on That 70’s Show) are priceless as the in-laws who repeatedly foil Sam’s overtures. Rounding out the primary cast is Erinn Hayes. She plays the love of Sam’s life and is the ideal “straight man” for this always-on-a-collision-course clan.

Seinfeld is known as a sitcom juggernaut, yet it wasn’t until its fourth season that it generated a sizable audience or cracked the top thirty in the Nielsen ratings.

Today, networks are reluctant to nurture shows in this manner, and without network backing, promising programs may not have enough time to find an audience before the plug is pulled. This is the fate Worst Week is in danger of suffering if CBS does not choose to cultivate this humorous piece of work.

A summertime consecutive airing of the first season, followed by a second season premier may be the answer to broadening the viewer base. Millions have yet to discover Worst Week, but those who have are filling message boards with their admiration.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Worst Week brightens the day for anyone having a worst week of his or her own, and fans hope that CBS will do the right thing and create a season 2 for this fresh and entertaining show.

"Everybody, I've got bad news. We've been cancelled."

And so opens the weirdest chapter in TV history.

Save the cheerleader. Save the world.

As I did in the synopsis, I'm going to keep this wrap-up as spoiler-free as possible. I was lucky enough to dodge any and all plot points during my wait my sister to share her DVD copy of it and my viewing experience was that much more rewarding. If you're a Heroes newbie, I urge you to steer clear as well; the show thrives on its big reveals and jaw-dropper cliffhangers.

Fate and destiny. That's what Season One is all about. Is the future written? Can it be chanced free, willing agents? Or is agent freedom a façade? Are humans governed strictly by the unfeeling mechanical processes of evolution? Or does God play a role still? These questions are tossed around liberally throughout the 23 episodes, and despite the monologues and voice-over narration, there are no real answers given. Truly these characters are connected, and their arcs will inexorably meet, but what governs that? What is the driving force? While some of these philosophical rhetorical questions flirt with pretentiousness, they give the show a weightier feel that elevates beyond being a simple comic book TV show.

But Heroes is a great comic book show and its storytelling embraces that comparison. While obviously derivative of the X-Men mythos (humans genetically mutating into superior beings, a shadowy government organization fearfully pursuing them, bad folks with super abilities out to cause havoc), the show still feels fresh and original. Plus, the writers are self-aware enough to stock plenty of fanboy "in" jokes, like nods to Star Trek (capped with a recurring role by George Takei), Back to the Future and its comic book influences (references to popular superheroes and a cameo by Stan Lee). This treatment gives Heroes more of an homage feel, but Kring and his crew spin enough of their own mythology to make the enterprise unique and the characters grounded.

As much as I enjoyed the show, however, there are still some warts. As I mentioned before, the opening voice-over lends gravity to the show, yet it also came across as heavy-handed and empty, like the writers wanted to make their show sound a lot more academic than it is. When you're juggling so many plotlines, you have to expect a few of them to fall on the ground and shatter, and Heroes has its share of narrative missteps, like a pointless and contrived samurai sword training montage, an unsatisfying love triangle and some spotty characterizations.

(SPOILER ALERT! Seriously, being complicit in the vaporization of a million people? How is anything worth that?).

But those are nitpicky. What's not nitpicky is the oft-maligned finale. While the final episode isn't a train-wreck, I found it unsatisfying. For a show that is, in essence, all build-up, there is a heavy responsibility on the finale to serve up something unforgettable and Tim Kring only managed to cap his stellar debut season with a mediocre episode. Again, not to tread too far into spoiler territory, but there had been a showdown brewing nearly all-season long and when it finally happened—pbbbbbbttttttt. Just undelivered. Even the big cliffhanger finale failed to marshal anticipation for next season. It's a bummer because this disappointment—it's probably the least-rewarding episode of the entire run, which, to be fair, speaks more to the excellent quality of the rest of the shows—left a bitter taste in my mouth.

You want plot holes? We got plot holes. Any story about time travel has to try to deal with the whole "paradox" thing, and Heroes sets up paradoxes galore. Like, if the heroes save the day, then "Future Hiro's" world would cease to exist. And if that were the case, how could "Future Hiro" ever come back and give a message to the heroes for them to saving the day? Isaac, meanwhile, paints what he sees in the future. But a lot of what he paints only comes true after people see the paintings and act on them. Does that mean his paintings are altering the future somehow? If he chose not to paint, would what he see when he paints not come to pass? I'm sure people smarter than me can come up with even better examples.

A lot of the "mechanics" of the heroes' powers are suspect as well. Like, Claire's weak spot might be her brain, but wouldn't her brain have been irradiated at the end of "Company Man," killing her permanently? As Peter gets more and more powerful as the season progresses, there are plenty of opportunities to ask, "Why doesn't he just use [name of super-power] to get himself out of this situation?"

When I was growing up, 70's show was the seminal sitcom that hit me. Though there was some brief overlap, Simpsons peaked almost perfectly to become Alpha Sitcom when 70's show started getting old. And then, after Simpsons reign, Friends became the last sitcom. Of course some sitcoms have come close to reaching Friends' rarified height but none have permeated so deeply into the my consciousness. And considering the sorry state of contemporary sitcoms, none may ever reach that levels again.

The premise of Friends is both well known and simple: six urban twixters—three men, three women—share the travails of early adulthood. Though the show occasionally presents absurd storylines, for the most part it sticks to exploring the more prosaic aspects of a quarter-crisis: frustrations with the searches for a suitable career and mate.

The three female lead characters are: the anal Monica Geller; the spoiled Rachel Green; and the spacey Phoebe Buffay.

The three male lead characters are: Monica's uptight brother, Ross Geller; the sarcastic Chandler Bing; and the goofy Joey Tribbiani.

One of the most popular television series of all time, Friends debuted on NBC in 1994 and ran to 2004. It also can be found in syndication just about everywhere. "Everyone can relate to the characters, whether it be to yourself or amongst your own friends". Friends found its niche throwing a group of attractive young people together in a couple of apartments in New York and providing them with endearing qualities and snappy dialogue. Everyone has a favorite "Friend" be it Ross, Rachael, Joey, Phoebe, Monica or Chandler.

The show thrived by engaging viewer first in the on/off relationship between the nerdy Ross and the worldly Rachael and later, the surprise pairing of the OCD Monica and wise acre Chandler. Womanizing dumbell Joey and airhead Phoebe served up a lot of comic fodder and provided the cohesive that held them together. Everyone almost uniformly love Friends, with the lone exception simply tired of seeing the reruns everywhere.

For as overexposed as the series has become in syndication, when you sit back and actually watch some of these episodes all the way through, one has to marvel at the comedic timing and ensemble these six actors have created. Matthew Perry and Matt LeBlanc share a comedic bond that rivals Hope and Crosby or Martin and Lewis. Jennifer Aniston has grown into an actress of impressive emotional range, especially for a sitcom. Courteney Cox has established a character that is almost unconsciously funny. Lisa Kudrow deftly delivers some of the shows best one-liners—"If we were in prison, you two would be my bitches!" David Schwimmer showcases more problems and anxieties than any three characters combined.

Sure, Friends is far from innovative, and its astronomical success prompted network executives to green light an abundance of sitcoms featuring young, hip urbanites. But its unthreatening humor and conventional drama somehow managed to captivate a nation, and only cynics and contrarians could deny the series' well-deserved acclaim.

Tell me again why we as a society spend so much time watching other people's lives instead of living our own? Social commentary aside, the writing, directing, and acting on this series is par excellence. It may have lost some steam in later seasons, but this show is the best sitcom in television history.

Go on, admit it: You like Friends.