February 17, 2008

‘Jericho’: Nuts

Yes, the strike is over, and word is slowly drizzling out of networks and studios about the number of episodes—if any—shows will be able to shoot, post-strike. Perhaps the most exciting announcement: Lost will shoot five post-strike episodes, bringing the total very close to its original order of 16. However, many shows—especially new ones—will be held until the fall.

Meanwhile, the surprise uncancellation of Jericho has yielded awful results; its grand return tanked in an uncompetitive timeslot in a largely barren network landscape. It’s too bad, because when this show gets going, it reaches great heights. I just hope producers had enough foresight to write an extended, seven-part finale rather than leave the show open-ended again. I don’t think nuts can save it this time.

Breaking Bad (AMC) — After last week’s insane, Coen brothers-esque tub-o’-acid-‘n’-guts antics, it surprised me that this week’s episode took such a quiet, somber tone. The story of Walt getting to know his captor was incredibly depressing, so it’s nice that we got some comic relief in the form of his brother-in-law driving his son around on an anti-drug tour. The scene with the meth-addict hooker was great, especially the punchline: “A cop and some quarterback. I think they wanted pot or something.”

I’m not clear on the purpose of the flashbacks; while I understand their intention thematically, but I don’t understand what was going on with him and “hey, it’s that girl!” Jessica Hecht. Is this going to play a role in future storylines?

TV nerd/idiot trivia: in the flashbacks, which one assumes took place 20-odd years ago, Bryan Cranston is sporting the exact same feathered-mullet/pretentious-beard combination he wore in a 1986 episode of Murder, She Wrote.

Jericho (CBS) — It’s back, and I’m glad, but I can’t help wondering: is it goofier than I remembered, or equally as goofy? I seem to recall it reaching a point last season where it transcended its 7th Heaven: Apocalypse-Style vibe to become truly interesting, compelling sci-fi. The premiere had a lot of action and many new insights on what’s going on with the new government, but it also settled in for long periods of characters dealing with familial strife. Have I just forgotten the formula of the show, or did it take a curious step back?

It’ll be interesting to see where things go from here.

Lost (ABC) — Expanding on a previous theory: the ‘Oceanic Six’ are the six people who willingly left the island. The rest, for various odd reasons, wanted to stay. I don’t think they’re dead, I don’t think they somehow got trapped—they just didn’t want to leave. Sayid is working for Ben to protect them, for reasons unknown. I don’t know if Ben was forced off the island or if he’s working some devious mojo. As indicated by the hidden passport/clothes-changing room, Ben clearly has the ability to leave the island, which begs the question: why did he have such a hard-on to get Jack to perform his surgery? As far as we know, the sub still worked (until Locke blew it up). Prior to the big kidnapping that closed season two, they had full communications. I think it has to do with Ben’s security, what with the whole freighter of people gunning for Ben.

The real mystery now is, why is Sayid killing these people? Until the Ben reveal, I thought he was hunting down whoever was involved in the vast conspiracy that brought these specific people to the island in the first place. It’s been hinted at since the start of the show: external forces nudged all of these people until they boarded 815. These forces remain unexplored, though it’s been hinted that this is a corporate conspiracy involving Widmore and Paik (at least). I won’t bore you further by ranting about specific reasons why people from these corporations would want each individual character on the island, or the details of my thoughts on why they survived when so many others didn’t. After the Ben reveal, I’m just not sure Sayid’s goal has a thing to do with the conspiracy. Then again, maybe it has everything to do with it. Time will tell.

Monk (USA) — I could have complained about Monk’s wildly out of character behavior through this episode, but one of the nice things the writers have incorporated into Monk’s character is that, most of the time, “fight or flight” instincts allow him to temporarily set aside his compulsions and perform extraordinary acts of bravery. I recall him chasing down a plane and shooting at some criminals to ensure they don’t get away—if he were in his right (or, um…regular) mind, Monk would never do such things, but it’s believable that extraordinary circumstances push him to the limit just as they would anyone else.

It’s interesting to see Natalie so concerned, almost in a romantic way, about Monk. This season, I feel like the writers and actors have given us subtle hints that these two characters share more than platonic friendship. Natalie’s usual big-sister attitude has given way to something deeper, and I have to give Traylor Howard credit for her performance here (usually only reserved for Tony Shalhoub, as if Monk is a one-man show). I honestly didn’t think she had it in her.

The same goes for Jason Gray-Stanford. With improved writing, he’s finally been able to turn Disher into more than just a semi-competent buffoon. True, he’s not exactly a genius, but it feels like this season they’ve added some shades to his character that make him much more interesting and nuanced. The Terminator joke from a couple of weeks ago is a perfect example: it’s a smart kind of stupid.

I don’t have much to say about Ted Levine, except that from day one he’s never reminded me of his Silence of the Lambs character. That’s acting. Attention, writers: give this man more to do. Stottlemeyer’s almost-blossoming relationship with Sharon Lawrence was a nice change, but they blew it by having her turn into a murderer.

Psych (USA) — Why is it that Psych’s season finales always seem to have some kind of horror-movie spoof element to them?

Well, for the bulk of the episode, the most intriguing mystery was the fate of the interim chief. The answer was also the most surprising part of the episode. Based on the mysterious phone call to Corbin Bernsen and his unusual desire to discuss it with Shawn, I assumed they had hired him to replace the chief. And then—it’s Shawn’s mother. I guess I always assumed she had died, perhaps when Shawn was very young, because we’ve never seen her and have heard only occasional references to her. It’s a pretty good cliffhanger, all things considered.

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (Fox) — This show has become a time travel nerd’s wet dream. We’re introduced to the mysterious survivor of the time-jumpers’ nest. He turns out to be Brian Austin Green, who will go down in history as Beverly Hills, 90210’s dorky braceface, David Silver. I’m sorry, Brian. In this episode, you manage to prove both a competent actor and a skilled bad-ass, but all I see is this. It must be frustrating, because I know I’m not the only one.

Green plays Derek Reese, brother of Kyle, uncle of John, confused non-relation of Sarah. He may or may not have killed Andrew Goode, cell phone salesman/”Turk” inventor/Clark Kent wannabe. Whether he did or not, the fact remains that Goode is dead, and…nothing’s changed. That leaves me with a few questions:

1. Have they presented us with a dour, fatalistic interpretation of time travel, contradicting Kyle Reese’s classic “the future is what you make of it” line? Will Sarah, John, and Cameron ever be able to truly stop Judgment Day, or is it all futile? I would love a show with the balls to give us a series finale where it turns out all their fighting is for naught.
2. Maybe we’re being presented with an odd hybrid of both paradoxical and non-paradoxical time travel. On the one hand, maybe the death of Goode did change the future. On the other hand, Reese is still there, dying on a table. Cameron’s still there. They’re still being chased by terminators. They’re still in 2007. John Connor still exists. And so on.
   
   What if it’s a crazy tear in the space-time contiuum? Derek Reese changed the future, which creates an alternate universe, but…all the remnants of the previous universe are still stuck there. They’re no longer fighting the future—they’re fighting the present.

The Wire (HBO) — Omar lives! Which is awesome, but…

What the hell was Nicky Sobotka doing at the port? Yeah, that was him, shouting at Carcetti about killing the port so they can build some yuppie condos. A few weeks ago, we had the reappearance of Johnny 50, now homeless; this week, we’re being shown—once and for all—the fallout of season two. The canal was never dredged, the grain pier was never reopened, and the port shut down, to be turned by Carcetti into a new waterfront promenade and million-dollar condos. Progress.

It’s nice to have some resolution on that story, but again: what the hell was Nicky Sobotka doing there? Last we saw him, he was getting angry at the frustrating impact of the outside world on his world—everything that led him to witness protection. Then he kept walking, trailed by some agents, and it faded to black and made even the most brass-balled stevedore weep like a newborn.

And now he’s back, out of witness protection. When I first heard they were bringing Nick Sobotka back, I thought it’d mean something. And hey, there are still four episodes left—maybe it will, but if this little cameo is it…it’s not enough. David Simon attempted to explain that, like so many people in witness protection, he left the program because he missed his family. To be fair, once the case against the Greeks (which, as far as we know, the Greeks assumed Frank and only Frank was responsible for) fell apart, Nick didn’t have much to worry about.

But I dunno, to me it feels like a hanging plot thread. I know The Wire has incredibly smart, dense writing, but there’s nothing smart or dense about ditching a set of characters, making very few references to them afterward, and then suddenly bringing one back when we have reason to believe he was in hiding. It struck me as unusually sloppy, and the comment that Nick left the program feels like backpedaling because they either didn’t remember or didn’t care that Nick should be far, far away from Baltimore.

That rant out of the way: great episode. Omar and his death-defying “Spider-Man shit” was not nearly as hokey as it could have been—the man is in pain, but he’s fucking Omar. Even hobbling around with a broomstick for a crutch, he’s a total badass, and he’s (literally) gunning for Marlo. I think it’s great that we’re seeing more development of Chris Partlow here. Snoop the Sociopath doesn’t seem bothered by it, but Chris takes failure hard. We’ve been shown more than once that he takes his work very seriously, but we’ve just seen the rise of Marlo’s crew—we’ve never seen failure. Because they failed, he can’t see his wife(?) and kids for an undetermined period—until Omar’s out of the way or Marlo somehow manages to get killed before Chris and Snoop can defend him. Chris is obviously angry about the situation, but I also sensed a little bit of fear. They failed, which cost them pretty much their only chance to get Omar. It’s now time to run and hide.

The homeless story is heating up, and there’s no way it’ll end well for McNulty (probably not Freamon, either). On the plus side, McNulty driving the insane homeless man to Richmond was a lot nicer than what I assumed he had in mind. This is such a dangerous proposition. We know the goal is to send the photos to Scott Templeton, so they can get pictures covered under the tap warrant, but what’s going to happen if they post the photos in the paper? What’s going to happen if somebody recognizes him? If the woman from the shelter recognizes him and fingers McNulty? This really isn’t going to end well at all.

D. B. Bates is a film critic and television viewer who has often shouted at fictional characters who probably wouldn’t listen to him even if they could hear him and existed in reality. Interested in explaining to D. B. the many ways he got it wrong? E-mail him.

Got a problem? E-mail us at filmmonthly@gmail.com