New TV shows usually suck. Take it from someone who watches every single one of them, every single year. Slogging through a herd of untested pilots can feel like speed dating for speed freaks: Twitchy people tell you their life stories in three seconds flat -- they laugh, they cry, they knock over their drinks, stuff blows up, ambulances arrive, roll credits. You're lucky if you escape without a migraine, let alone a venereal disease.
But this year was different. Watching this fall's new shows was like wandering through a magical bar filled with charismatic, funny people and delicious, icy-cold cocktails. Great music was playing, the mood was spirited, and everyone had a charming or poignant or funny anecdote to tell. As long as you stayed away from the ones wearing scrubs and surgical masks -- oh yeah, and the bony, Botoxed cougars -- you were sure to have a great time.
The life of the party this fall is ABC's "Modern Family." In a sea of attractive and witty guests, spewing quips and tossing back drinks, "Modern Family" (9 p.m. Wednesdays on ABC) is that unnervingly funny guy in the corner whose jokes keep making your mojito blast out of your nose. I've been waiting for this show to falter or underwhelm for weeks now, and each episode has been better than the last. Ty Burrell is consistently hysterical as hapless, pandering dad Phil. Here he is in one of my favorite scenes from the pilot:
Along with Burrell, Manny (Rico Rodriguez) -- that's Jay's (Ed O'Neill) kid -- is an unexpectedly hilarious character (loved the scene where he stroked his fake goatee when considering avenging the kids that drew it on his face), and every episode ends on just the right note. Yes, we saw it coming when Phil's teenage daughter's boyfriend, Dylan (Reid Ewing), sang a sweet love song that turned raunchy. But how great was that song? And then ending with the whole family, humming "I just wanna do you, do you" to themselves as they brushed their teeth or got ready for school? Brilliant. I love the dramatic choices by the excellent writers of this show, I love the little touches thrown in by this incredible cast (Eric Stonestreet as chubby, earnest Cameron makes me laugh out loud every single time he's on-screen), and really, I'm just in awe of "Modern Family." If you're not watching this show, you're nuts.
All of which stands in sharp contrast with another ABC show that I chose as one of the best new shows of the fall. If only I'd had a "FlashForward" to how mediocre this serial drama would become, I would've stopped watching weeks ago. From the lead character, Mark Benford (Joseph Fiennes), to his doctor wife Olivia (Sonja Walger) to his partner Demetri Noh (John Cho), this show is crowded with flat characters, and the story transformed from an eerie big bang of a pilot into a big sopping mess of nothingness in a few short (but seemingly endless) episodes.
It's astonishing to me that ABC could compare this show to "Lost" and then do so little to develop its characters over the first few weeks. What stands in for real character traits, back story and nuanced flaws on "FlashForward" (8 p.m. Thursdays) are cartoonish details like "He has a drinking problem" (Mark) and "She's a dedicated doctor, mother and wife" (Olivia). My favorite, though, is Demetri, who is somehow interesting because he's in love with his fiancée and he's going to die soon. He and his lady Zoey (Gabrielle Union) spend their time smiling sweetly at each other, which tells us zero about them, while Demetri tries not to harsh Zoey's premarital bliss with the nasty omens that he'll soon be dead.
Oh, and by the way? "He'll soon be dead!" isn't character development either, nor is it a hefty foreshadowing element when you don't know who Demetri is in the first place. Aaron (Brian F. O'Byrne) is still gloomily worrying about his daughter (whom we also know nothing about), Olivia's doctor friend Bryce (Zachary Knighton) has a new lease on life, but we don't completely understand why he was suicidal in the first place, and Nicole (Peyton List) is depressed about her vision of being drowned, but secretly, we can't wait until she's attacked because all she does now is wander around like a sullen model badly in need of a psychotropic intervention.
This is the trouble with pilots that have a powerfully creepy premise -- what if everyone on Earth blacked out at the same time, and had a vision of the future? -- along with lots of conflict and panic and exploding stuff in the first episode. All of the real drama is frontloaded, and then the rest of the series feels like slow-motion denouement. Unless the writers happen to have a really smart story to tell -- and, let's face it, writers who create an entire show around a premise this flashy aren't typically all that fond of subtlety or character development -- the whole thing is destined to fizzle before we come close to solving the central mystery.
I should've known better. The damage is done! "FlashForward" is the third most popular new show this fall, according to Nielsen, based on average ratings over the first four weeks on the air. In case you're wondering, CBS's "NCIS: LA" is first (personally, I'm indifferent to "NCIS" and its soon-to-be-countless spinoffs), CBS's "The Good Wife" is second (a great new drama, explored in more detail here, that richly deserves the attention), ABC's "Modern Family" is fourth (Hurray!) and ABC's "Cougar Town" is fifth (Oof). Not surprisingly, ABC has picked up all three of these shows for full seasons, along with the alternately amusing and tone-deaf Patricia Heaton sitcom "The Middle."
Aside from Courteney Cox and her chafing stampede of screeching harpies, you have to hand it to ABC. And it's great to know so early in the season that an excellent show like "Modern Family" and a promising show like "The Middle" will both be around for a while.
Which shows won't be around? All of the new medical dramas seemed to be on life support this fall, from NBC's flashy but blunt EMT dud "Trauma" to NBC's mercilessly self-righteous nurse drama "Mercy" to CBS's stomach-churningly bad organ-donor soap "Three Rivers." Nonetheless, "Mercy" unexpectedly won its time slot last week, so those tireless nurses are likely to keep wagging fingers at cartoonishly self-concerned doctors for a little longer.
Just in case you care (which seems unlikely), the CW's "The Beautiful Life" was the first pilot to be officially canceled, taken out at the knees after just two pretty but empty episodes.
As far as older shows go, Fox's "Dollhouse" has been getting horrible ratings, even with a bump from DVR viewing, which is disappointing because the series has been smart and transfixing lately despite consistently lukewarm performances by Eliza Dushku. (Can't someone just give Joss Whedon a blank check to create his own show without strings attached? What, the TV industry doesn't work that way? Why not?) In other confusing, "What were they thinking?" news, NBC's promising cop drama "Southland" was given the ax before even a single episode of its second season could air, presumably because Leno has razed the 10 p.m. time slot on that network with his slow, lumbering reign of terror. NBC is really suffering from its crappy decisions this fall.
But as long as NBC keeps its new comedy "Community" (8 p.m. Thursdays) around, I won't be complaining -- at least not for another few seconds. "Community" is still hilarious and has more than enough absurd moments per episode to keep me watching. Joel McHale's character isn't all that interesting, because he's too busy mooning over Britta (Gillian Jacobs), but the others are great, from Abed's (Danny Pudi) alien hoax to Chevy Chase's deadpan confused retiree to Senor Chang's (Ken Jeong) unraveling mental health, showcased in this clip:
Scenes like that one leave "Community" battling it out for the second-best new comedy of the fall against HBO's "Bored to Death" (9:30 p.m. Sundays) and Fox's "Glee" (9 p.m. Wednesdays). "Glee," which has been picked up for a full season, balances some recent lackluster music numbers with consistently great scenes featuring sadistic cheerleading coach Sue (Jane Lynch), while "Bored to Death," which is already lining up a second season, continues to amuse, mostly thanks to priceless moments featuring Zach Galifianakis and Ted Danson.
So let's raise our glasses to the best fall season of TV in years! Keep the music blasting, the laughter roaring and the free drinks flowing as long as you can, network and cable overlords, because on TV, the good times can only last for so long. Here's to keeping the magic alive a little longer -- or at least as long as it takes for Dylan on "Modern Family" to pen another sleazy love song.
Families are funny. Sitcoms about families are not.
Or, at least that has been the case since "Arrested Development" went off the air. Saddled with dozens of hackneyed shows trying desperately to match the wit of "Everybody Loves Raymond" but failing miserably, viewers have become so bored with the same old family shtick that many of the most successful comedies, from "30 Rock" to "The Office," are now set in the workplace.
ABC's "Modern Family" (premieres 9 p.m. Wednesday, Sept. 23) borrows a thing or two from those shows -- the single-camera format, the use of a faux-documentary style where characters speak directly to the audience, the frequent veering into farce. That said, this dysfunctional family comedy really is its own unique, brilliant gem, shining among an otherwise uncomfortably mediocre haul of cheap comedic rhinestones.
Be forewarned, though. The first scene -- teenage daughter leaves house in slutty outfit -- might give the impression that this is just another bad parade of parenting clichés. But don't touch that remote, because things get very funny, very quickly, particularly from the moment that Phil (Ty Burrell), father of three, tries to act as if he speaks the same hip slang as his daughter's new suitor.
"Let me meet this playa," Phil growls at the boy, who just stares at him, dumbfounded. "Phil Dunfee, yo!" Then in a voice-over Phil explains. "It's like that. You just stare down at them, let the eyes do the work. Your mouth might be saying, 'We cool.' But your eyes are like, 'No, we not.'" It's tough to do justice to just how ridiculous this scene becomes when Phil pulls a muscle in his back, falls down the stairs, and ends up being carried like a baby to the couch by the kid he's trying to intimidate.
But the real stars of "Modern Family" are Cameron (Eric Stonestreet) and Mitchell (Jesse Tyler Ferguson), Phil's brother-in-law and his partner, who've just adopted a daughter from Vietnam. Like the best actors in a Christopher Guest film, these two are at once absurd enough and understated enough in their delivery that they don't oversell their scenes.
Mitchell: So, Cam, that orphanage, it was all women. Maybe she can't fall asleep unless she feels a woman's shape?
Cameron: I suppose that's possible.
Mitchell: So here. (Handing him the baby.)
Cameron: What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Cameron: (In a voice-over) Yes, I've gained a few extra pounds while we were expecting the baby. Which has been very difficult, but apparently your body does a nesting, very maternal, primal thing, where it retains nutrients, some sort of molecular physiology thing. But that's science, you can't fight it.
Along with Stonestreet and Ferguson, "Modern Family" has plenty of comedic talent behind it, from Ed O'Neill as the family patriarch to Sofia Vergara as his hot, much-younger Latina wife, Gloria, to Julie Bowen as Phil's wife, Claire. Between the snappy writing, great comedic directing, and remarkable timing of all of the actors involved, "Modern Family" is one of those rare comedies that never feels awkward or corny as it's winding up to a punch line.
Yes, of course the mockumentary style is everywhere right now. But isn't it about time that family comedies started ripping off something a little more current than "According to Jim"? Instead of the usual family sitcom curse of clichés and bad "Full House" jokes, "Modern Family" captures the absurdities, quirks and freakish flaws of today's extended family in ways that feel lively, unique and just dark and mean-spirited enough to be … well, accurate.
Fighting and families go together like boxed wine and Ho Hos, after all. But laughter and families? Those two haven't come together on TV in a long, long time.
But once they do? It's like science: You can't fight it.
I'm glad there are more gay characters on TV these days. But I don't want to single the gay ones out, because that would imply that I think gay people are different than everyone else. They're not different! Gay people are just like straight people, only they're smarter and funnier and more interesting.
Also, they smell better. They've read more books, sure. And they have more friends -- that part isn't surprising. Because they're better educated, generally speaking, and also a little wiser. Like blondes, they have more fun.
When people talk about homos taking over the planet, my heart races a little faster. A planet ruled by gays! Imagine how good the scones will be!
Plus, there'll be prettier yards, less crime, more funding for the arts but less bad poetry, fewer rude, disheveled dogs roaming loose on the streets, and less weak coffee. I'm guessing there aren't many gay Hummer owners. McMansions would surely fall out of fashion, along with miniblinds, vinyl siding and Applebee's.
Everyone would be grumpier and bossier on the outside, but more kindhearted deep down inside. Complaining about your crappy day would become an acceptable form of filibustering in Congress. Neglecting your houseplants would become punishable by law.
What, now I'm just making sweeping generalizations? Now it's obvious that I think gay people are silly and overly fixated on trivial matters and other likable things like that? Now I'm just pandering to the future global elite in the hopes that I might one day fill some token fag hag post in the cabinet?
Pretty, witty, gay, etc.
I can't help it. I've been idealizing gay people ever since I moved to the Castro, in San Francisco, at the tender age of 25, where I was surrounded every day by beautiful, fit, talkative men. Suddenly I knew how Captain Kirk felt when he was beamed down onto a planet of gorgeous lady aliens who were nonetheless impatient with his dull earthling ways. Sure, I've been urged over and over again not to assume that all gay and lesbian peoples of the globe are wickedly witty and charming and fun-loving and smart, but each new gay person I meet only further clouds my vision with his/her general-purpose excellence and flair.
This is the trouble I smell on television this fall, where token gay characters have replaced token black characters as the marginalized peoples du jour. By depicting gay people as they really are -- intelligent, attractive, self-possessed -- modern-day televisual narratives run the risk of misinforming the public about the fact that many gay people are slovenly, slow-witted and boring. I would personally launch a public awareness campaign to inform the populace that Gay People Are Stupid And Uninteresting, Too -- I just can't find any stupid, uninteresting gay people to help me enlighten the masses.
Meanwhile, the networks continue their campaign of misinformation by featuring highly charismatic token gays on their shows. There's Eric (Connor Paolo), Serena's little brother on "Gossip Girl," and Mo-Mo (Haaz Sleiman), Jackie's trusted confidant on "Nurse Jackie." And on the new shows this fall, token gays are moving front and center, from Kurt (Chris Colfer), a confident, talented member of the show choir on Fox's "Glee" who nonetheless gets tossed into a dumpster every morning by the football team (although that's about to change) to Mitchell (Jesse Tyler Ferguson) and Cameron (Eric Stonestreet) on ABC's "Modern Family," a gay couple who adopt a baby girl from Vietnam and immediately feel self-conscious about it.
Poor Mitchell, alone with the baby as he boards his plane home, elicits coos from fellow passengers until his partner, Cameron, returns with snacks for their adopted daughter. Suddenly the same cooing passengers are averting their eyes. But a rude comment from a woman passing by is what finally sends Mitchell over the edge.
Lady: (to husband) Honey, honey! Look at that baby with those cream puffs!
Mitchell: All right. Excuse me. This baby would've grown up in a crowded orphanage if it wasn't for us cream puffs! And to all of you who judge, hear this: Love knows no race, creed or gender! And shame on you, you small-minded ignorant few ...
Cameron: Mitchell, Mitchell! (Showing their baby, holding a cream puff.) She's got the cream puffs.
Now, granted, this and many of the other jokes surrounding gay couple Mitchell and Cameron are focused on their gayness. They are the token gay characters, after all, so their stories are, predictably enough, rife with stereotypical gay behaviors, like when Cameron has a mural painted on the wall of baby Lily's nursery of himself and Mitchell as angels .
Cameron: I had Andre do it while we were gone!
Mitchell: Is that us, with wings?
Cameron: We're floating above her, always there to protect her.
Mitchell: Well, that's reassuring, right, Lily? Yes, we tore you away from everything you know, but don't worry, things are normal here, your fathers are floating fairies. Can you call Andre? Have him paint something a little less gay? And by the way, we have to stop having friends with names like Andre.
Cameron: (to baby) Redheaded Daddy is angry Daddy.
See, if you saw a scene like that, you might imagine that gay men sometimes make outrageous or vaguely self-aggrandizing design decisions, or that despite such flights of fancy, they maintain a sense of humor about themselves and almost seem to enjoy it when other people make fun of them. And that wouldn't be accurate at all, since many, many gay people in the world are incredibly stodgy and not very creative and also quite easily offended. Maybe you don't know any gay people like that, but that doesn't mean they don't exist!
Similarly, when Kurt opens the third episode of "Glee" with a mesmerizingly coy rendition of Beyoncé's "Single Ladies," then tries out for kicker of the football team in an effort to win his dad's approval, but insists on listening to Beyoncé's song right before he kicks the ball, we might end up assuming that gay kids are more unique or even a little more appealing than their straight peers in high school. What could be further from the truth?
What's even more deceptive is that these gay characters -- Kurt and Mitchell and Cameron -- are some of the funniest and most captivating characters on their shows. And what's worse, "Glee" and "Modern Family" are some of the funniest and most captivating comedies on television this fall, so, of course, being small-minded, ignorant assholes, we immediately assume that these shows must be written and staffed by gay people. But that wouldn't be fair, because I'm sure there are plenty of dumb, uninteresting straight people on staff, too.
The whole thing is just a big mess, one perpetuated by those who want to fool the public into thinking that gay people are better than us, just like gay people fool the public into thinking that gay people are better than us by… actually being better than us.
Flying under the gaydar
Take Ellen DeGeneres. First she proves that she's better than all of the straight people in the world by coming out as gay on her sitcom 12 years ago, something that no straight person in his or her right mind would ever do because we're too ashamed by our mediocrity and our poor hygiene, let alone our sexuality, to reveal anything of note about ourselves in any sort of public setting.
But that's not enough. Next, Ellen tries her hand at the talk show thing (like everyone else on the planet) and not only doesn't fail (like everyone else on the planet) but succeeds with flying colors. She dumps crazy Anne Heche for hot Australian babe Portia de Rossi, hosts the Academy Awards, and just generally succeeds at everything while treating her status as a gay woman as old news (which it is, thanks to the fact that she came out a long, long time ago, before anyone else had the courage to).
And now what does Ellen do? She lands a plum job as a judge on the most popular show on the planet. Is this fair? Hasn't she gone too far, at long last?
Sure, it'll be tough to fill Paula Abdul's shoes. After all, Abdul added a lot to the discussion on "American Idol" when she giggled and rambled on incoherently about how much she loved every single contestant onstage. And also, didn't she have this great rapport with Simon Cowell, where Simon would tease her and she would act all mad and punch him in the arm without saying anything but "Simon!"? Wasn't that fun?
Ellen will really struggle to live up to Paula's legacy. And Lord knows we don't want someone to put Simon Cowell in his place. We'd prefer that Simon (who's as sharp-tongued and as self-deprecating as a gay man, but whose terrible hair gives him away as straight) continue to sleep his way through "American Idol," lulled into a semi-hypnotic state by the inane ramblings of Randy Jackson and Ryan Seacrest. God forbid that Simon be taken out at the knees by someone a little more clever and witty and Johnny-on-the-Spot than he is.
It's a sign of how far Ellen has come in the world, and how much she's changed it, that no one is referring to her as the token gay judge on "American Idol," any more than Randy Jackson is referred to as the token black judge. To America, Ellen is funny first and smart second and lovable third and maybe gay fourth or fifth or sixth (just as Randy is annoying first and repetitive second and boring third or fourth).
And this is how the gays eventually take over the world, you know. They distract us into thinking that they're just like us, when in fact they're far superior. We're subdued into complicity and before we know it, the national anthem is replaced by Cole Porter's "I Get a Kick out of You," the military is marching in classic Bob Fosse formation, and Wal-Mart stops stocking guns and ammo and starts stocking whimsical Dalmatian statuettes and Jonathan Adler throw pillows.
But at least the scones will taste better.
