The Good, The Bad, and The Interesting

So, after immersing myself in a world of hilarity and pathos, I decided my next adventure in the land of "TV Shows I Should Have Started Watching A Long Time Ago" would be...Heroes.



No, I didn't suddenly take leave of my senses. I had heard all the reasons to not watch. I mean, I was working at EW when the story ran that explained everything that was wrong with the show. And everyone I talked to said, "Nonono, that way lies badness. There is no happy ending there." But, being one of those people who has to figure these things out for herself, I decided to take the plunge anyway and catch it on Netflix's instant whatever. Also, I would be lying if I said half my reason for watching the show wasn't just to see Zachary Quinto in action. (What? He was really great in Star Trek, okay? It's not just because he's incredibly attractive.) I did promise myself I'd stop after the first season.

(For those who care, my promises apparently mean nothing, as I promptly rushed through the rest of the series as fast as the episodes could load. Definitely a mistake.)

After I got over my initial, brutal disappointment that Quinto wasn't in the first seven effing episodes of the first season, I immediately knew why I hadn't started watching the show before: It was absurdly addictive. And it somehow didn't feel like a complete retread of X-Men. I'm not altogether sure how the showrunners accomplished that, but, y'know, props. Anyone who can get me to zip through an entire season in a 36-hour period deserves that much, at least.

I did have a few problems with the first season (and many, many more with the subsequent ones), but they mostly followed from the show simply having too many storylines going; and worse, the characters in those storylines were boring, and had really poorly defined powers. (Seriously, can anyone tell me what the fuck Niki's power was, other than...being a multiple personality? Super strength with that one personality? Whaaaaat. Ever. Also, Greg Grunberg, I love you, but you need to smack some bitches over there for making you really irrelevant most of the time. Get Jaybrams to write you into another pilot or something.)

On the whole, though, I was enthralled for all 23 episodes. While some of the credit goes to the pretty riveting Bennett family saga and my inexplicable love for first-season Nathan Petrelli (Adrian Pasdar, you are also delightful to look at), I have to lay the rest at the feet of my new favorite TV serial killer: Sylar. (Sorry, Dex.)

Sylar is literally the only reason I'll continue watching this shell of a good show next season. Well, the hope of Sylar. God knows what the fuck is going on, with that third season finale. Again, I love Adrian Pasdar, but not at the expense of Quinto.

The funny thing is that Sylar shouldn't be an interesting character at this point -- but he is. He's had several chances at redemption and fucked all of them up -- purposefully, for the most part. He's pretty much just pure evil, and pure evil gets old rather quickly. But the way Quinto plays it is just... delicious. The spark in those alternately soulful/less eyes when he's stalking his prey is magnetic; I could watch him glare at people all day. (Seriously. I thought David Boreanaz had the Evil Glare down as Angelus, but Quinto just brings it to a whole 'nother level. Maybe it's the amazing eyebrows?) And you can still see the tiny part of him that made that noose after his first kill, and how deep he buries it. You can see the part of that spark that's built on ambition and the need to be special.

Clearly, I'm not a serial killer. I don't really have that capacity in me. But on a fundamental level, I understand Sylar because I've felt that way every day of my life. I know I'm not alone, too; everyone wants to be special. But people like the fictional Gabriel Gray and I, we have this crushing need to be superlative. Not just special: the special-est. His struggle to balance that hunger with the reality that there comes a point when you really just can't be any better...That's one of the oldest human struggles. Remember Cain and Abel? Abel didn't die because of some serpent's curse. He died because God named him superior to his brother. That ate Cain up inside--how could God want fruit and vegetables instead of fresh lamb?--until finally a lightbulb went off over his head and fratricide was born.

It could also be that seeing Sylar get the shit kicked out of him is always good for a laugh. Seriously. It's somehow very cathartic and funny whenever someone stabs him in the face, because he screams in an immensely satisfying way and then glares and starts with the bloodletting. (Incidentally, I love that Sylar wears Converse a lot of the time. Like, he may be a serial killer, but damnit if he doesn't love his Chucks. Is he secretly a hipster? I know he was supposed to have grown up in Queens, but maybe his murderous rampages come from having spent too much time in Williamsburg? He did kill that guy in the Ramones shirt...)

So! In conclusion! Fixing Heroes is pretty easy: Less characters and repetition, more Quinto and Sylar. Boom. You are welcome.

Dear MotherZucker...

Dear MotherZucker,

We are recent college grads, but we could run your network better than Silverman. Why, you ask? Well, first, we are 22 years old and, therefore, have that whole "binge drinking" thing out of our systems. (Or we save it for appropriate times, like one odd Saturday night a month.) We also have never been big fans of white tigers outside of the zoo. (Or even in the zoo.) We may not have any real scheduling experience, but hey, neither did this douche when you hired him.

But why should you hire us? Because NBC can't really (really, really) get any worse, so why not put it in the hands of two post-grad TV junkies? We anxiously await your call, Jeffy.

Hugs and puppies,
O and Brady

P.S. "SyFy"? Seriously? Way to make your network sound like VD.

On Egregious Advertorials

So, you think Ben Silverman will give this Adam Stotsky guy his own set of chimes? Maybe one of Silvertooth's cubs?

(Seriously, though. "Today's consumer is sophisticated enough to pick up on these things"? What consumers have you been talking to? Because the last time I checked, there were a whole lot of stupid people running around in this world. People are, by and large, dumb. Take a look at the ratings for Two and a Half Men and compare them to those for 30 Rock, then talk about how "sophisticated" consumers are today.)

Kings: For Whom the Chimes Toll

Well, NBC (SYLVERMAN!) has officially pulled Kings from Sunday nights. And replaced it with another hour of Dateline. Yeouch.

As though to pour a giant container of salt in this wound, NBC is going to run out the show's clock ("Hey, you got your football terminology in my TV commentary!") on Saturday nights, which is pretty cold. I wonder if Ben Silverman has a special dirge he plays on his chimes when he kills a show.

Granted, I didn't like Kings. Critics seemed to receive it well enough, but for me, it was all just too goddamn heavy-handed. Your protagonist's name is David Shepherd? And he's the son of Jess(i)e? And then he destroys a tank called the Goliath. OKAY. We. Get. It. At some point it stops being a Biblical allusion and turns into an overwrought Sunday school lesson. Also, apparently everyone loved Ian McShane's performance, but all I saw was some intense scenery-chewing.

(To be fair, I did like the "gay Crown Prince" plot, and not just because I love Sebastian Stan. It was a ten times more poignant than any other storyline on the show.)

So, what's next on the chopping block over at 30 Rock? My guess is Southland.

The Adventures of (Not) Ben Silverman

[Note: What follows is an entirely fictional account of Ben Silverman's day-to-day life, the thought process behind his decisions, etc. There's no harm meant by it; my excellent friend Braids and I simply thought it would be hilarious to blame everything bad in the world (and NBC) on him, even though in real life, this probably isn't the case. So, again: Light mocking along the lines of the Girls' Bike Club over at Tomato Nation.]

Int. 30 Rockefeller Plaza, 13th Floor. (Not)Ben Silverman, male, mid-30s caucasian, enters, flanked by his two white tigers, Silvertooth and Moonbeam.

NBS: Dave? Davey? Bro, where you at?

He plays the official NBC chimes hanging from his belt. Dave Howe, President of Sci-Fi, runs out of an office.

Dave Howe: Ben! What are you doing way down here?
NBS: Oh, just chillin' through. Wanted to see how you're dealing with the name change.
Dave Howe: Name change?
NBS: Shit, we didn't tell you?
Dave Howe: Tell me what?
NBS: Well, Davey, Zucks and I got the best fucking idea last night, bra. You know how we can't put that little ^TM thing after Sci-Fi?
Dave Howe: Sure.
NBS: Yeah man, we can't have that wack shit. So from now on you're "SyFy^TM." Zucks even said I should change my name to "Sylverman." Tight, yeah?
Dave Howe: Is that...really going to boost our ratings?
NBS: Are you questioning me, Davey?
Silvertooth growls.
NBS: Silvertooth thinks you're questioning me, Davey.
Dave Howe: Oh, no.
NBS: Because I greenlit The Office, you know. And Parks and Recreation.
Dave Howe: I heard the focus group numbers were pretty ba--
NBS: You heard shit, man. Everyone knows that shit is bogus.
Dave Howe: Why do we bother, then?
NBS: Man, I don't know. Fuck this noise, I got some ladies waiting for me up on Fiddy. Sylverman OUT.

He mounts Moonbeam and, playing his official NBC chimes, bounds away.