TV rehab

There are shows we love even when they don't love themselves. For them, Salon staffers stage an intervention.

Editor's note: Read more of our TV Week 2008 coverage.

By Salon staff

Read more: Amy Reiter, Lost, The Real World, David Duchovny, Arts & Entertainment, Joy Press, Heather Havrilesky, Arts & Entertainment TV Features, Louis Bayard, American Idol, TV Week, Sarah Hepola, Judy Berman, TV Week 2008

Sept. 3, 2008 |

ABC's "Lost"
"Lost" once built suspense through twists, turns and big questions that lingered unanswered. But as the twists, turns and big, unanswered questions piled up over the course of three seasons, they started to feel increasingly pointless and empty. Instead of explaining, say, the Dharma Initiative, or that black smoke cloud, or the polar bears, or the island's electromagnetic qualities, the writers milked each mystery for all it was worth, and then sent us off on another wild goose chase. "Look over here! The Others are actually scientists -- scientists with dungeons!" "Look, a boat, filled with bad vigilantes with big guns!" "Look, 'Jacob' is rocking back and forth in his chair, saying spooky things!" "Look, Ben is good! He's evil! He's good! He's evil!" "Hey everybody, look! The entire island has disappeared into thin air!"

It's time for the writers of "Lost" to explain some of its major mysteries. It wouldn't hurt if we found out, once and for all, the purpose of the Dharma Initiative and exactly what went wrong there. We could find out what Penelope's dad and the Hanso Foundation have to do with anything, we could understand what Ben's mission is in the wake of their rescue from the island. Really, pick any three or four threads and resolve them. What harm does it do? Instead of killing the golden goose, explaining a few things might give the rest of the story more life, and provide a platform for newer, richer story lines.

On top of that, the flash-forward device needs to disappear and leave the survivors in the present, grappling with their lives post-rescue. We have enough loose ends to navigate with these characters without the constant vertigo of flashing forward. This would also eliminate the rather disheartening effect of seeing unhappy endings before we know how they took place. Is it really so surprising to see that Jin dies when the tanker explodes, since we've known for weeks that he would die, thanks to a sad flash-forward where Sun and Hurley visit his grave? The flash-forwards have contributed to "Lost" becoming an increasingly frustrating, depressing, relentlessly dark show with no relief in sight.

It's time to return to the deep satisfaction, the resolutions and the focus on character development of the first two seasons. Make a few characters happy for a few episodes, at least -- there's no real dramatic conflict when everyone is miserable all the time and no one even seems to catch a glimpse of a better life, on the island or off.

It's time for a big change. We don't want empty, connect-the-dots plot twists. We want characters who feel whole, who strive for something greater than themselves and either fail or take a small step toward a new life. You can say that "Lost" isn't a character-driven show, but in its first season it most certainly was, and it should return to those roots now if it wants to overcome its current Mobius strip of empty, endless mystery. -- Heather Havrilesky

MTV's "The Real World"
The only thing more clichéd than the panty-dropping, Jagermeister-sponsored escapades of "The Real World" is complaining about how unrealistic the show is. Yes, it's scandalously true: MTV's bacchanal bonanza is not accurately titled. After 20 seasons and roughly a gazillion wanton hookups, the show is not likely to go away; it's like herpes, blistering up seasonally despite your best hope that it will fade. So how to set those seven strangers straight? It's painfully obvious: Give them a stiff shot of what their lives so desperately lack -- reality. "The Real World: Baghdad"? Now that I might actually watch. Send them to boot camp. Enlist them in a war we cannot win. Or, fine, less dismal: Get those bingeing boozehounds to actually assemble the IKEA furniture in their luxury mansion. I'm dying to see how the Angry Cast Member (trademarked, since 1992) deals with 20 planks of plywood, an Allen wrench and some Swedish cartoon diagrams. That's a slap-down I would TiVo. -- Sarah Hepola Showtime's "Californication"
When David Duchovny announced last week that he was pursuing treatment for sex addiction, the news couldn't have come as much of a surprise to viewers of his Showtime drama "Californication," which he stars in and executive produces. Duchovny's preoccupation with sex -- OK, his character's obsession, but it's pretty clear that the lines here are blurred -- is not just the engine that drives the show; it is the show.

Which is a big part of the problem with "Californication." Sure, it's entertaining for a while to watch women throw themselves at Duchovny's character, Hank Moody, a washed-up bad-boy novelist who is in love with his ex-girlfriend and intermittently concerned with their adolescent daughter. But after a few episodes of women (young women, slightly less young women, women he meets in bars, gyms and bookstores, women who drive up next to him at traffic lights, women who are desperate after a divorce or trying to make careers in porn) begging him to take them home and make sweet love to them, it gets kind of old. Hank drinks too much and fights too much, but more than anything, he fucks too much. And when he's not fucking, he's talking about fucking. And when he's not doing either of those things, one of the other characters is.

It sounds potentially exciting, I'll grant you. And the heartbreak is that some of the supporting characters and story lines have real promise: "Sex and the City" alum Evan Handler, as Hank's agent Charlie, and Pamela Adlon, as Charlie's wife, Marcy, did their darnedest to make their ménage à trois subplot seem kind of fun. But alas, these characters aren't ever allowed to step out of Hank Moody's slouchy-sexy shadow. And Duchovny gets all the good lines. (That is, if you think a guy waking up shouting "Kiss the tip" is a great line.) So Natascha McElhone, as Hank's ex Karen, is reduced to showing off her astounding cheekbones and looking radiant as she utters witty ripostes like "shut up" to Duchovny's dull needling. "Shut up" is also a frequent response from Hank's daughter, Becca (Madeleine Martin), who delivers all of her lines in an infuriating monotone I guess is supposed to telegraph disaffected teen. And, if you think the dialogue is bad when these female characters talk to Hank, you should hear them talk to each other. Do the show's writers really think grown women sit around (on their wedding days!) talking about their fiancés' "baby arms" or advising each other to have anal sex with their husbands to keep them from straying? Is there a recovery clinic for rotten dialogue?

If "Californication" really wants to seduce us, it needs to roll back the male fantasy factor, increase its female writing staff, and let its supporting players get up off their knees. -- Amy Reiter

NBC's "Heroes"
How will "Heroes" get its superpowers back after a disappointing second season? Less talk and more action! Instead of navigating high-pressure situations, last season the heroes of "Heroes" strolled around in pairs and ... talked. They talked about who was behind this or that evil plot, they talked about Sylar, they talked about mysterious antidotes and deadly viruses. But what actually happened, really, other than the dozen or so times everyone's eyes turned black and they almost died? And what circumstances changed permanently by the end of the season? Every time a character died, that character was brought back to life again (except for Nathan's assassination at the end of the finale -- although, didn't he appear to die at the end of the first season finale as well?). How can we care about the high stakes involved, when every major plot turn is reversed and the whole season feels like a red herring?

These modern-day Super Friends need to stop pacing around at the Hall of Justice once and for all and start tackling big, complicated problems out there in the world. While it would be nice to leave behind oversimplified questions like "Is he good or evil?" or "Am I good or evil?" or "Who can I trust?" for more nuanced character studies and layered, intriguing mysteries, above all the focus should be on keeping up the action and the suspense this season. Look to "24" for pointers: If those writers can recycle the same old terrorist scenarios over and over again and make them seem fresh, surely "Heroes" can whip up some high-stakes plots to keep us on the edge of our seats.

Also, it's time to get rid of Sylar or make him a second-tier bad guy to some other, more intimidating ultimate eeevil. We've seen Sylar's bag of tricks and it's getting old. Remember when he sawed people's brains in half, and no one knew it was him? Now that was scary. Back then, Sylar was demonic enough to make even Jack Bauer shake in his boots. But lately Sylar has lost his flair. Let's find another, even more demonic monster to fill his shoes.

Finally, don't bring Niki Sanders back to life! She's the least interesting character of them all -- her story lines are unspeakably corny and bad. Leave her in the burned-out ruins of Season 2, where she belongs.

It's easy to have big hopes for the new season of "Heroes." After all, there's no way it could be any worse than last season. As long as they kick the action and suspense up a notch and put all that talk on the back burner, we'll be up for the ride. -- Heather Havrilesky

Next page: What happened to Tim Gunn?