I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but there’s this thing going on in America at the moment called a Presidential Election. It’s kind of a big deal, apparently. And in recognition of that fact, the BBC has busted out its big guns and sent two of its finest small-screen stars across the pond, to report back to the mother country about all the fuss going on in that uppity former colony of ours.

I am, of course, ecstatic about this, because one of these stars is Stephen Fry, otherwise known as the only man I would leave my fiancé for, if only he would ask. In Stephen Fry in America, Fry has spent several months travelling across the United States, in a London taxi of all things, and is stopping off in every state of the union in order to report on interesting and unusual things. So far these things have included lobster fishing off the coast of Maine, a meeting with the mafia gang who inspired The Godfather in New York, and a visit to a body farm in Tennessee (and if you don’t know what that is, I suggest you Google with caution).

I am so delighted that my beloved Stephen Fry is back on our screens, being his usual erudite and foppishly-charming self, that I hesitate to voice any complaint at all. But I must admit, this series is not as perfect as it could be, only because too much is crammed into every show. Yes, Fry does go to every state in the Union, but so rapidly that some are simply driven across and remarked upon in passing.

If only we could have a show for every state. I would happily watch Stephen Fry trying to fill an hour of television with interesting facts about Nebraska or Delaware. Let’s face it, if anybody could do it, it’s him. But, this is only a minor quibble, and mostly I find Stephen Fry in America utterly wonderful and delightful, and so will you.

Slightly higher up the didactic ladder, The American Future: A History is Simon Schama’s survey of the history of the United States as a cautionary tale. Or, in other words, everything that is happening now has happened before, and we could all learn a thing or two from it if we would only pay attention. The first episode looked at America’s wartime history, going all the way back to the conflicting perspectives of Jefferson and Hamilton to illustrate the ideological conflicts about the Iraq war that are now at the forefront of the presidential campaigns. It’s stirring and controversial stuff.

In the next episode, apparently, Schama is examining the history of religious pluralism in the United States. It’s all a lot less frivolous than Stephen Fry creating a new flavour of ice cream at the Ben and Jerry’s factory in Vermont, but it’s fascinating viewing nevertheless.

You can find further Stateside hi-jinks with my beloved Fry on BBC1, Sunday nights at 9pm. And if you also want to learn about the minutiae of American history and what it all means for today, you can catch Simon Schama on BBC2, Friday nights at 9pm. I have no doubt both these shows will also be coming to BBC America in no time at all.

Road Tripping With The BBC

The American version of Life on Mars is getting no such grace period. (more…)

No Sign of Intelligent Life on Mars

I make no secret of the fact that I love Gossip Girl. Sure, the show’s first season had a somewhat rocky start, but I’ve been an unabashed fan for quite some time now, and it is with difficulty that I attempt an objective review of the show’s second season. Let’s face it — we don’t watch this show for its artistic quality. Still, it is my blogging duty to make the attempt, and so today I grade Gossip Girl’s return.

1. Compared to previous season: Considering that the first season began with such heavy-handed subplots as Eric’s attempted suicide and the Humpreys’ broken family woes, it actually had lots of room for improvement, and season one saw the show come into its own. Basically, it decided to stop attempting anything that could be vaguely viewed as real life drama and embraced its soapy nature instead, complete with manipulative villains and enthusiastic bed-hopping. Season two has more than continued this trend, without inflicting a single realistic plot upon us — and that’s the way I like it. Grade: A.

2. Returning characters: Again, season two is simply continuing the good work begun in the first season, with one advantage. Now that the show has had the chance to define the characters and their pasts a bit more, we’re not stuck with any transparently expository episodes (such as finding out that Serena slept with Nate for no reason that made any sense. At all. Ever). The characters themselves are a bit more interesting — Serena is being allowed to act more like a fierce she-bitch than a lost beagle, Blair continues to walk her tightrope of neuroses and power, and Chuck is the most magnificent bastard seen on TV in the last ten years. Even Vanessa has a bit more to do this year than pine over Dan. The weak link remains Nate. There has been a vapid pretty boy on every soap since the beginning of time, and I have no idea why. The poor thing doesn’t stand a chance of keeping up with Blair or Chuck. Hell, even Jenny out-thinks him on a daily basis. And we’re supposed to believe he’s going to Dartmouth? Grade: A-

3. New characters: Thankfully, there’s not a lot to talk about here. The show’s got a long ways to go before it needs to bring in new, younger, naughtier blood, and the main cast has remained stable in its second season. However, the guest stars have been hit and miss so far. Madchen Amick’s dastardly duchess was a bit one-note, all teeth and claws, but it was an admittedly fun note. Blair’s English lord boyfriend was nothing more than a pawn in the unending battle royale between Blair and Chuck, and the trouble-making new girl wasn’t even on the show long enough for me to remember her name. Basically, everyone who’s not in the main credits has been little more than a prop, only there to further develop the relationships between the leads. There’s no point in becoming invested in characters that won’t be around in two weeks’ time, so I’d rather see the leads interact on their own, or with secondary characters that are actually given the time to find a personality. Grade: C+

4. Current plots. I am a shallow, shallow person, and so of course I like the current plots, which are all shiny and superficial. Because this is a teen soap, we all knew that Serena and Dan were bound to break up, but the show has actually used the inevitable heartbreak to mix it up a bit, returning Serena to her Queen S ways. The Chuck and Blair Show continues, and if ever the CW wants to do a spin-off, I’d happily watch a half-hour comedy starring those two (of course, if they left, it would kill GG dead, so there would be a downside). Granted, I couldn’t care less about anything Nate does, and Jenny’s rebellion is rather pointless, so it’s not all puppies, rainbows and hot limo sex, but overall, it’s pretty solid. And, for all that I mock the show as being a glorious soap, it still manages to infuse genuine emotion into its preposterous plot, putting it miles ahead of every other teen show currently on the air. Grade: B+

Overall grade: B+

Gossip Girl Makes the Grade

Shall we start with the highbrow? James May (swoooon….) is a fairly recent addition to the long list of middle-aged male TV presenters on whom I have a bit of a crush. He is so foppish and articulate! And, although he will never equal Stephen Fry in my estimation, he obviously has something going for him, because I sat through a whole show about robots and artificial intelligence just because he was presenting it.

James May’s Big Ideas is a new show which has our eponymous presenter looking for the Jetsons-esque 21st century lifestyle he always envisioned when he was a child - jet packs, flying cars, food capsules and teleportation devices. And robots, of course. The episode I watched followed him in his search for the perfect robot, one that would do his bidding, wash the dishes, and beat up the school bully. If it could also shoot lasers out of its chest, so much the better.

Alas, such a robot does not yet exist, but I did get to spend an entertaining hour watching May attempt to drive a wheelchair with the power of his mind, play baseball with a robot which had less hand-eye coordination than I do (and that’s saying something), and lecture us about the inner-workings of the human eye, with diagrams (at which I swooned all over again).

And then there’s the low-brow low point of my televisual week. Hole in the Wall is one of those shows that makes you seriously consider writing to the BBC to demand to know what it is they think they’re doing with your TV licence money. And the answer, apparently, is that they’re spending it on persuading C-list celebrities to don unflattering silver body suits and fit themselves through oddly-shaped holes in a foam wall, or end up pushed into a swimming pool.

Yep. That’s the whole show. And if it all sounds eerily familiar it’s because Marcia mentioned the show’s concept back when it was first thought-up. In Japan, home of humiliating game shows, of course. Versions of the show have since popped up all over the world, including in the US.

Why do I watch this? I hate myself for watching this. And yet, it is endlessly compelling. I mean, they’re adults, in silver body suits and shamingly-superfluous crash helmets, getting dunked on national television. What’s not to like? Although my tolerance for Dale Winton’s inanely enthusiastic ‘Bring on the Wall!’ battle cry is wearing exceptionally thin. But still, I know that next Saturday night I’ll be tuning in again for another thirty minutes of has-beens contorting themselves for my viewing pleasure.

Have you lost all respect for me now? Or are you too busy feverishly searching the TV listings to find out exactly when you can see this car-crash television for yourself? It’s OK, you can tell me.

Hole in the Wall airs Saturdays on BBC1 at 5.00 pm. And if you need to feed your brain afterwards, you can catch James May’s Big Ideas on BBC2, Sunday night at 9.00pm.

Big Ideas and Humiliating Holes

This week, Pop Vultures is taking a look at returning shows and offering snap judgments on their new seasons. Today, it’s House’s turn.

1. Compared to the previous season(s): House really shouldn’t be interesting anymore. It’s been trotting out the same formula each week for the last four years: someone with an obscure — and frequently disgusting — ailment appears at Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital and is poked and prodded by House’s team. The doctors incorrectly guess the disease between 3-5 times, the patient gets steadily worse, and just when the poor guinea pig is ready to kick the bucket, House has a brainstorm and the patient is cured. Repeat next week. Shouldn’t we be sick of this by now?

And yet, we’re not. The writers continually find new ways to keep potentially stale plots interesting. Last season, they messed everything up by bringing in a whole new set of doctors for House to toy with, and it worked. Wilson was given a love interest that wasn’t House, allowing for all sorts of character — and relationship — development between House and Wilson. The show actually went somewhere, rather than stagnating.

So far, this season has done an excellent job of continuing that development. They surprised us by having Wilson break up with House, which opened up new directions for both their characters. While this season’s changes haven’t been as dramatic as the previous season, they still show promise. Mark: B

2. Returning characters: Well, they’re all great, aren’t they? Wilson is showing a backbone, something I’ve waited four seasons to see. Cuddy is still trying to outsmart House and even succeeding on rare occasions. The new doctors are actually becoming three-dimensional characters, with 13 coping with her own diagnosis and Taub’s personal life being explored a bit. Much like last season, Foreman, Chase and Cameron have very little to do, but rumor has it that they will soon be incorporated into the show a bit more. As for the reason most people actually watch the show — House himself — he is still as dark, rude, brilliant and broken as ever. Mark: A-

3. New characters: So far, we’ve only got one, but he’s excellent. Michael Weston has come on board as Lucas Douglas, House’s personal PI and rival for Cuddy’s affection. Though I dislike the whole love triangle that’s being set up, I do love this character. He’s clever enough to be a worthy adversary — and friend — for House, and charming enough to believably woo Cuddy. Sure, he’s a rebound guy after Wilson, but I’m hoping he sticks around for a bit. Mark: A

4. Current plots: This is the hardest one to judge, since the procedural nature of the show means that the underlying plots are revealed slowly over time. The disintegration of House and Wilson’s friendship was a long time coming, and I’m eager to see how each character copes without the other — and whether Wilson’s harsh breakup words cause any changes in House himself. I will agree to tolerate the romantic subplot so long as nothing ever comes of it, since I’m convinced that Cuddy is too smart to ever actually date someone as broken and cruel as House. Writers, I’m warning you now: if they ever get together, this grade will drop at least two full letters. As for the remaining characters, their storylines might not be particularly compelling, but the actors are handling them well, and I’m happy to see where they go with time. And perhaps that’s why this show earns such a high grade — I have enough faith in it to give it that time. Mark: A-

Overall grade: A-

What do you think of this season of House so far? What grade do you think it deserves?

House Trained

Now that we’ve all recovered from the powerful case of apathy brought on by the new fall shows, it’s time to check in with a few returning ones. After all, there’ve got to be some shows worth getting excited about, right? Now that I’m currently taking a long break from teaching, I’m starting to feel the itch to judge something based on entirely random criteria — it’s time to grade the returning shows!

For the next few weeks, or until I have have reviewed each show and/or grown tired of this exercise, I’ll be evaluating the returning show based on how they measure up to previous seasons, how the returning characters are faring, how interesting the new characters are, and whether the new stories show promise. Up first: Heroes.

1. Compared to the previous season. Heroes was a well-documented disaster in its second season, so I think it’s fair to say that expectations were rather low going into its third season premiere. Most people were likely just hoping not to be bored anymore. And, if we use last season as a barometer for quality, I can happily say that this season is extremely well-executed and quite entertaining. Of course, that’s rather like saying that, compared to American Pie: Band Camp, American Wedding is a marvel of complex characterizations. The bar ain’t set that high, is all I’m saying.

Three episodes into this season, and the best I can say is that the show isn’t nearly as boring as it was last year. I haven’t found myself nodding off once (though I do tend to leave the room during Parkman’s storyline, which is the only way to deal with that particular plot). We haven’t been force-fed any painfully dull new characters. No one has been killed, only to be brought back to life with unsatisfying ease. In that way, it’s much, much better.  Mark: C+

2. Returning characters. Fortunately, the writers are helped quite a bit by some of the cast. The strongest and most charismatic actors on the show still do a good job, and during their scenes everything seems to be back on track. The minute Jack Coleman and his morally flexible Noah Bennet are on screen, I absolutely love the show. Adrian Pasdar’s Nathan may be redefined by the writers every other week, but the actor still brings consistency and depth to the character. I’m not quite sure why they decided to bring back Ali Larter, though. Can’t anyone just stay dead on this show? Mark: B-

3. New characters. The show’s new characters are a mixed bag. Hiro’s brand new nemesis was clearly meant to be “sassy and clever” but somehow translates as “annoying and pointless.” On the other hand, the new villain Knox shows tremendous promise — mainly because he’s played by Jamie Hector, who kicked ass as Marlo in The Wire. On the plus side, there is no one that even approaches the annoyance factor of last year’s Emo Wonder Twins. Mark: C

4. Current plots. The show was at its best in season one when it allowed the characters to interact and their stories to intersect. After all, if we like Claire and we like Peter, won’t we like the scenes with both of them even more? Why, yes, we will! Season two fractured the group that season one had so carefully built, sticking each character in their own story with someone new — and someone that we didn’t like at all, whether it was an Irish barmaid or a horny teenage boy. It plain didn’t work.

Although this season is trying to get back a bit more to what made the first season successful, by incorporating more of what Tim Kring calls the “primal questions” and relying on more archetypal characters, it’s still keeping the characters separated in their own stories, with little clear overlap between them. Because there is no obvious link between the stories, the end result is that the viewer is only invested in the show during the handful of plots that interest them, and feels free to ignore the others. The show gives them no reason to view each scene as equally important.

Plus, this season we have the “Spirit Walk” segment. Note to all writers, everywhere: spirit walks and dream journeys and anything in which white westerners decide to co-opt alternate belief systems in order to give their plots some sense of authentic primal spirituality NEVER work. Don’t do them. Truly, I wish I’d been present in the writers’ room when the Parkman “spirit walk” storyline was pitched. “Yeah, okay, here’s what’ll happen. He’ll be teleported to Africa for no reason that we’ll bother to explain. But it won’t be dull like Hiro’s whole Japanese plot, because we won’t get him involved in any feudal wars or introduce him to super-hot David Anders or anything silly like that. No, he’s gonna meet a magical man. A black man! A magical black man! No one’s ever seen that before. And then Parkman will WALK, and he’ll whine a bit about what he’s doing there. It’s just what we need to get the show back on track!” It’s things like this that cause me to lack faith in the writers. Mark: D

For the moment, there are just enough stories that interest me to keep me watching for a bit longer — but Heroes is hovering on the brink of joining other shows on my fall cleaning pile.

Overall grade: C.

What do you think of season 3 so far? Is the show back on track, or has it derailed itself completely?

They Can Be Heroes

As part of my fall cleaning efforts, I am viewing every returning show with a critical eye: should this show stay on my very crowded television schedule? It was with that attitude that I went into last night’s episode of Pushing Daisies. Forty-two highly stylized minutes later, I have my answer, and it is a very firm “I don’t know.”

Really, there is no other show on television about which I feel so divided as this one. I know that, for most people, it falls into the love-it-or-hate-it camp, and most PV readers seem to be quite firmly on the “love it” side, but I just can’t ever commit to one camp or another. I am firmly straddling the Daisies fence. Does that sound dirty to anyone else?

Last night’s return was everything we’ve come to expect from Pushing Daisies. Every quirky trick they’ve got up their sleeve, it was in this episode. If ever there was a time to judge an episode as representative of an entire series, this was it. And yet, I still can’t decide if I should keep watching.

My indecision is frustrating. This is not a show that I like in some ways or dislike in others. No, I either love it or hate it, and my reaction can change in seconds.

The sets, for instance, are breathtaking. They are cinematic in scope, fantastic and beautiful and unlike anything I’ve ever seen on TV. But, just as I’m starting to get caught up the glorious world created by the set designers, the damn voiceover kicks in, with so many self-conscious tics that it qualifies as the narrative version of epilepsy. Every time the storyteller announces the exact time, down to the second, or reminds us that Chuck is “aka someone else,” I visibly wince. It completely takes me out of the moment.

The plots don’t help the matter. I have no problem with the always silly mystery of the week, and always enjoy the way that each new mystery provides a new world to explore. The newly created Betty’s Bees, for instance, was an absolute visual treat. I have fewer kind words for the B-plots, however, which range from frustrating to downright asinine. The show is piling secret on top of secret, asking the viewer to not only keep track of each newly revealed hidden truth but also to care about them, and I just don’t. I don’t understand why half these things need to be secrets at all. Considering that Olive already thinks Chuck faked her death, is there any reason why Chuck couldn’t come up with a good cover story that would work for her aunts as well? Every week, she, Ned and Chuck whip up preposterous covers for their mystery solving, but they can’t think up a way to reunite her with her aunts? Really? The secrets aren’t compelling, and so I plain don’t care what happens, and begin to wonder if I should even bother tuning in next week.

Then, just as I’m reaching the frayed end of my patience, Emerson Cod opens his mouth, expressing all the frustration I’m feeling with his trademark deadpan snark, and I’m in love again. Ned sits awkwardly on a bench like an adorable, oversized puppy, and my heart thaws a bit. Olive…well, Olive appears onscreen, and everything is a little brighter. And then, for a few minutes, I love this show, and understand why everyone else can’t get enough.

At least, I do until the damn narrator opens his mouth again.

What did you think of the show’s second season premiere? Are you in the love it or hate it camp?

Revisiting Pushing Daisies

I hate British soaps. Eastenders, Coronation Street, Emmerdale, the late, lamented Brookside, even that young upstart soap, Hollyoaks. I hate them all. And what is more, I cannot for the life of me fathom why everybody else doesn’t hate them as well.

But Eastenders regularly attracts in the region of 8.4 million viewers for every revolting episode. It’s nearest soapy rival, Coronation Street, draws around 7.3 million. What is up with my fellow countrymen? It seriously boggles my mind, because honestly, I would rather eat my own toenail clippings than watch either one of them. And yet, lovely Pop Vultures readers, I have eschewed a toenail snack, tempting though it was, and just for you, I forced myself to sit through an episode of Britain’s most popular soap, the BBC’s Eastenders.

Here is the one good thing I have to say about it: I quite like the theme tune.

It’s not cultural snobbery. I mean, it’s really not. I love trashy telly! Trashy telly is fun, enjoyable, and escapist. British soaps are none of those things. The reason I hate them is that they’re so relentlessly depressing. Nothing good ever happens to anybody, ever. If a nice thing does actually occur, it is only so that it can be cruelly and ironically snatched away. The rest of the time it’s poverty, racisim, abuse, assault, petty theft, the occasional murder, lies, secrets, and betrayals. Even Christmas parties are just preludes to horrific accidents. How the whole cast of characters don’t collectively throw themselves off the nearest bridge is beyond me.

In the episode of Eastenders I so selflessly sat through, there was: food poisoning; child abuse; some bloke hiding a gun under a sink for no-doubt nefarious purposes; a controlling boyfriend; and a bad case of chicken pox. There was one young married couple who seemed reasonably happy together, but in Eastenders you know that just means something indescribably terrible is going to happen to them, probably before the end of the episode. After all that, it’s a bloody good job that the theme tune is peppy.

At least American soaps are glamorous. I know they’re hopelessly unrealistic, but I’d far rather spend my leisure time following the lives and loves of millionaire oil barons than keeping track of the grim realities of life in Albert Square. And don’t think it’s just Eastenders either. All British soaps are cut from the same, gritty-urban-reality cloth. Coronation Street follows a similar formula up north, and Emmerdale does it in rural Yorkshire.  And my toenail clippings are starting to look remarkably appetising.

Feel free to leap to the defence of the denizens of Albert Square and their ilk in the comments.

Why I Hate British Soaps

When people find out that I’m a TV blogger, the first question, sadly, is never, “Wow! How did you get so lucky? That’s what I always wanted to be when I grew up.” No, nine times out of ten they cock their head to the side, look at me as if I’m a bit simple and say, “Huh. You must watch a lot of TV, then.”

Well, yes. It is rather part of the job description, and I still feel as if I’m only watching about a third of the shows I’d like to write about. It’s worse now that the fall season has kicked off, since I constantly have several episodes waiting to be viewed. Right now, Weeds and House are still sitting on my hard drive, hoping I find some time this week to pay them a visit. Of course, by the time I do, I’ll be days late on writing about them, and then there will be brand new shows demanding my attention, and clearly, no matter how much TV I watch, I will never be caught up.

I have, however, developed a system. Sadly, it doesn’t work on shows like House, which I actually want to sit down and enjoy, but it’s rather effective with a surprising number of shows. Basically, I multitask like a mother. I cook dinner during America’s Next Top Model, do sit-ups during Prison Break, and knit scarves for my entire family during Greek. The more predictable or poorly written a show is, the more I can accomplish. Hell, I finished reading War and Peace during last season’s American Idol. It’s become my personal litmus test for quality: if I actually sit on my sofa for the entire hour, it’s pretty good. If I feel a sudden need to vacuum — not so much.

It also helps me discover my percentage shows — the ones where I only care about a certain percentage of the stories. During season 2 of Heroes, I’d do the dishes during anything with an Emo Wonder Twin, stopping to watch when Noah come on screen. I’d try to stay in the room during the terrible Irish story, but that was only on the off-chance that Peter took his shirt off.

The Sarah Connor Chronicles is another percentage show. If they’re all sitting around arguing, I’m writing email, only pausing when Cameron starts kicking ass. During Grey’s Anatomy, I might still care about Christina, but I’ll be taking out the garbage the minute Izzy appears onscreen. These days, Prison Break is basically a 3% show, one which I have on in the background. I remember what happens only through the psychic link I share with my TV.

Yesterday, I watched the second episode of Fringe, and I’m sorry to say that this one is already a percentage show for me. For all the hype that surrounded its premiere, it is, sadly, not that good. The show’s tone is far too serious for its ludicrous plots, the lead female character is dull and forgettable (seriously, I don’t even remember her name), and I refuse to get drawn into another JJ Abrams conspiracy that features a lot of nouns with definite articles (i.e., The Pattern). I saw where that went with Alias, thank you, and I won’t make that mistake again.

And yet, Dr. Walter Bishop is simply awesome. I did not realize how much TV was in need of a mad scientist before he appeared on my screen, and now I want an entire Dr. Walter show. He could have a talk show, solving people’s problems through random non sequiteurs, or a game show, where he mocked people’s mundane knowledge (”No, no, no. The answer is that people live for SIX hours after death. What are they teaching in schools these days?”). I’d watch him milk the cow, or argue with his son, or just talk to himself for the better part of an hour, and quite happily, too.

Unfortunately, Dr. Walter is only on screen for, maybe, 25% of the time, and so Fringe has quickly fallen into the category of “Shows that help me keep a clean house.” It’s not a terrible show, and I feel it’s one I need to watch to be a well-informed TV blogger — I just can’t be bothered to watch all of it.

Has Fringe grabbed 100% of your attention? And what are your percentage shows?

On the Fringe of Quality TV

How are the rest of you doing with this season? Does anyone out there still care at all?

Project Runway Takes a Break