Partners (Premiered 09/24/2012)

From Will & Grace creators Max Mutchnick and David Kohan, Partners is a multi-camera, laugh-track sitcom that explores the unique “bromance” between a gay man (Michael Urie) and a straight man (David Krumholtz). Louis and Joe are life-long friends and business partners struggling to balance their love lives (and their differing sexualities) with their friendship. Partners attracted attention when critics pointed to similarities between it and an earlier series of the same name from 1995. [Taylor Cole Miller]

Alfred L. Martin Jr. – University of Texas – Austin

CBS’ new comedy (a word that can only be loosely applied here) Partners is hideous almost from the first frame.  Its multi-horridness goes beyond what it attempts to represent (a kind of Will & Grace 2.0), and can largely be whittled down to this: Partners is just not funny.  While the jokes per page are high (and the actors work hard to try to sell this flaccid material), none of them are funny.

The opening vignettes designed to demonstrate that two friends (one gay, the other not) have a long history together instead draws on culturally held stereotypes about gayness wherein “the gays” (always already male) are firmly rooted in knowledge of spas and interior design, areas about which their heterosexual male counterparts are blissfully unaware.

Certainly sitcoms by their very nature must be rooted in broadly based stereotypes, but based on its pilot episode, Partners relies on a kind of gay iconography that connects gays with theatricality (the show’s main gay couple Louis and Wyatt have a dog named Elphaba, the protagonist from the musical Wicked) and camp (a teenage Louis wishes to marry Bette Midler) perhaps as a way to demonstrate that Louis was “born this way” but ultimately, it reifies stereotypes without making a comment (for “good” or “bad” about them.  Certainly, pilots are often different from the series they ultimately become (with Golden Girls as a great example), but Partners has a lot of ground to make up given its less-than-stellar 6.8 million viewers.  As TVByTheNumbers points out, those numbers are OK for NBC, but not CBS.  Perhaps Partners will get better in the second (and subsequent) episodes, but I am not holding out hope in an era that quickly discards show without allowing them time to “find an audience.” And with a show this unfunny, no one should be watching anyway.

Vegas (Premiered 09/25/2012)

In what might be the most indirect spinoff in recent memory, CBS has taken the period flashback episodes of the original CSI and found a way to tell those stories of a nascent, burgeoning Las Vegas trapped between the mob and the law. Ralph Lamb (Dennis Quaid) is a rancher with a knack for solving crimes who values capital-j Justice and who ends up toe-to-toe with the gangsters—including Michael Chiklis’ Vincent Savino—who believe the town is theirs to run. [Myles McNutt]

Myles McNutt – University of Wisconsin-Madison

Given the period setting, Vegas leans heavily on generic deserts and green screen effects, building a facsimile of 60’s Las Vegas through strategic localization wherein key locations like McCarron Airport or the distinctive neon signs of the early strip are recreated in detail and the spaces in between are a generic recreation of period Las Vegas without the same specificity.

What will be interesting to see is how they manage this over time: not every episode will have the budget of the pilot, and I’m interested in what kind of standing sets they’re working with. Whereas Mad Men utilizes primarily indoor locations in order to better transport viewers back a half-century, the sparse geographical outskirts of 60s Vegas gives the show the capacity to use the desert as a location that doesn’t need to be redressed to meet certain expectations: sand is sand, after all, no matter what century it’s in.

It will be intriguing, though, to see how the spaces of the series shift as it moves forward. Whereas CSI’s cases are able to draw from a range of geographical areas within a modern Las Vegas (like the suburbs, for example), Vegas’ tight focus on the gaming commission and its influence on the city’s future may narrow their storytelling possibilities; while my knowledge of 60s Las Vegas and its geography is fairly limited, I do wonder whether the show’s choice to limit the boundaries of its geography to the ranchers and the strip may prove challenging as they attempt to develop weekly cases within this structure, or whether those boundaries might expand should the show become a success for the network.

Derek Kompare – Southern Methodist University

I had what I thought were reasonable hopes for CBS’ new period crime drama. As much as the network has made a virtue out of playing it safe with investigative formula for the past decade, it also has occasionally attempted something with a bit more heft (e.g., The Good Wife). In addition, at a time in which the venerable network drama itself is said to be endangered, I would hope that somehow one of the old Big Four would try to recapture some of the dramatic esteem long lost to cable. Moreover, in an age of intriguing period dramas, surely this would be a likely candidate to forge new ground. Sadly, Vegas is instead a sure sign that CBS is content to stand pat.

The series merges CBS’ staple crime formula (down to the classic CSI setting of Las Vegas) with another version of a Mad Men-ish Sixties. I say “version” because it’s a transparent knockoff, with some gloss on the obvious elements (e.g., a plausible reconstruction of Fremont Street circa 1960), and very little supporting it. As period drama goes, this is pedestrian stuff, hitting the necessary design bar (why yes, those are indeed late-50s cars), but never going much further. Similarly, the plot is, to a shocking level, boilerplate CBS crime drama. Indeed, if you squint, it could almost be some sort of CSI flashback episode, only with less interesting characters and situations. Perhaps they’re trying to evoke the formulaic TV dramas of 1960 as well? Meanwhile, both Dennis Quaid and Michael Chiklis are workmanlike in their portrayals of the two heavily stereotyped leads, with Quaid as a rancher made reluctant lawman, and Chiklis seemingly channelling a paint-by-numbers but PG-rated Vic Mackey. Again, adequate, but unchallenging.

This is competent, uncomplicated, take-it-as-it-goes stuff, perfect for those who like the look of 1960, and may have heard of Mad Men, but find that show itself too opaque. Similarly, for an audience fed a steady diet of similar crime dramas for the last dozen years, it’s more of the same, only with skinnier ties, cooler cars, and more casual racism and sexism. It’s also a dead giveaway that CBS, despite long being in the best financial situation of all the broadcast networks, has no appetite for innovation (at least this season), and would rather mount a mediocre success than a brilliant failure.

Elementary (Premiered 09/27/2012)

Jonny Lee Miller dons the (figurative) deerstalker cap in this latest, modern reimagining of Sherlock Holmes. As always joined by Dr. Watson, in this case his sober companion Joan Watson (Lucy Liu), Elementary sees Holmes tackling cases for (and against) the NYPD in contemporary Manhattan, drawing inevitable comparisons to the BBC’s Sherlock. [Drew Zolides]

Sean Duncan – Indiana University

Elementary is a surprisingly intriguing adaptation of Sherlock Holmes to a New York setting. After the success of BBC’s Sherlock, many Holmes and Sherlock fans derided this production as a crass cashing-in on the former’s success. Yes, it’s a contemporary Holmes, and yes, Elementary is decidedly an Americanization of Holmes in both style and narrative — it is basically The Mentalist with familiar character names. However, it’s a well-written procedural that is paced reasonably, and acted competently (Miller, Liu, and Aidan Quinn all gave intriguing performances). But, most importantly, Elementary has diverged significantly from the origin story of the Holmes/Watson pairing, revealing that what many assumed to be a fault of the series is perhaps its greatest strength.

Producers of the BBC’s Sherlock have reveled in comparing their work to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s source material, taking the original stories and often wildly reinterpreting them for effect. For instance, Sherlock co-creator Mark Gatiss stated that the “old dark house” setting of the original Hound of the Baskervilles novel required updating to a plausible “modern horror” setting, replacing it with… an animal experimentation facility. The new setting and style of Elementary does this series some favors by geographically freeing Holmes and Watson from the United Kingdom and thus some of the baggage of the Canon.

Unlike the Holmes Canon, in Elementary, Holmes’ addiction issues plausibly recur, Watson’s backstory involves a very different kind of contemporary medical trauma, and the choice of the more obscure Inspector Gregson rather than the well-known Lestrade flags to the Holmes fan that Elementary is less compelled to replicate the plots of original Holmes stories. Where the BBC series has evolved into a spot-the-reference game, viewers of Elementary have to settle for the occasional beekeeping reference. Elementary is not quite an adaptation of the Holmes *Canon*, but an adaptation of the Holmes *relationships*; a choice that allows for new characterizations, an few surprises, and perhaps ultimately a useful distance from the original source material. And that’s probably a good thing, allowing both Sherlock and Elementary to peacefully co-exist at different levels of adaptation.

Kelli Marshall -DePaul University

I haven’t seen Sherlock (BBC), I nearly fell asleep during Sherlock Holmes (Guy Ritchie, 2009), and I haven’t picked up a work of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in more than a decade. What’s more, my most recent lucid interaction with this literary series is The Beekeeper’s Apprentice (1994), a novel that reimagines the older and now-retired Sherlock Holmes as a beekeeper (a nod to the original stories) and his partner-in-crime as a clever, fifteen-year-old girl who “finds women to be the marginally more rational half of the race.” I hope it’s clear, then, that I’m coming to CBS’s Elementary and the Holmes-Watson partnership from an arguably skewed perspective.

What I was expecting from Elementary: I expected a feisty, outgoing Watson who is intellectually on par with a rather controlled, emotionless Holmes. I expected ongoing verbal gymnastics between the lead characters a la Moonlighting‘s Maddie Hayes and David Addison excluding the sexual tension. I expected fluid camera movement to connect Holmes and Watson, symbolizing their equal playing field. I expected low-key lighting, dark alleyways, and one or two Victorian-style staircases. I expected remarkable crime-solving skills. And maybe I expected some bees.

What I got from Elementary: Rather than a plucky Dr. Watson (Lucy Liu), I got an aloof and humorless one (She sets two alarm clocks! She instructs Holmes to “Wait in the car!”). Similarly, rather than a restrained Holmes (Jonny Lee Miller), I got a wild and hyperactive one (He’s into sex games! He crashes cars willy-nilly!). I got a couple of sarcastic/humorless lines from Holmes but little banter between him and Watson (e.g., she’s his “addict-sitter,” “glorified helper-monkey,” and “personal valet”). I got some fluid camerawork but mostly when Holmes is in the frame; rarely does the camera connect the (would-be) partners. While I didn’t get dark alleyways, I did get long corridors and a heavy wooden staircase. And as expected, I got superhuman crime-solving skills, all very reminiscent of House‘s Gregory House (i.e., look at something in the room, spark brain, immediately solve case). And I got bees—but really, on a Manhattan rooftop?

What I was anticipating from the pilot of Elementary and what I was given somewhat conflict. I’d hoped for a livelier Watson—having the character cheer while watching a televised baseball game doesn’t translate to “dynamic,” writers—as well as a lot of repartee and an overall grittier, noirish tone. And maybe these things are coming; it is just the pilot after all. I’ll watch again. At the very least, I’m curious how much honey will ultimately be produced on that rooftop.

Made in Jersey (Premieres 09/28/2012)

This new drama tells the story of Martina Garretti (Janet Montgomery), a young girl from New Jersey with big hair and bring dreams to make it as a lawyer in Manhattan. Her big Italian family in New Jersey is brash, loud, pushes and fond of animal prints, and Martina brings her Jersey style and street smarts with her to New York in this legal procedural. Will she make it on her own in the big city? Or will her WASPy boss (Kyle MacLachlan) fire her for being too outspoken. Hairspray and culture clash ensue. [Eleanor Patterson]

Karen Petruska – Northeastern University

Made in Jersey is not a good show.  You probably already know this because of this review and this review and this review, which calls it the “worst non-CW drama pilot of the season.”  Ouch.  Plus, it is on CBS, and other than The Good Wife, do any of us watch anything on CBS?  (Wait, apologies to Max Dawson, I suppose some scholars watch Survivor).

I watch Hawaii Five-O.  It is an excellent show to watch while eating dinner because it repeats all important information multiple times for those not quite paying attention.  CBS procedurals are very considerate that way. Made in Jersey is a case in point, not only repeating information but also finding all sorts of ways to convey our heroine’s central personality traits–she has a funny accent and she’s has no clue about social graces.  To make sure we know our heroine is spunky, for example, we see her in the first minutes of the show telling off a rude guy on a bike (a guy who wears a bandana, so you know he’s a punk).  She’s also standing next to a young kid of ambiguous ethnic origin, so she’s coded as Other from the get go. Oh, and she knows that pliers are an essential tool for working-class girls to help them zip up their skin-tight jeans. Did I mention that she’s really, really loud as well? Those Jersey girls, always loud and with their big hair and tight clothes, and isn’t she funny yet charming?

What is more frustrating with this particular show is that there is the potential for real drama.  In the days of the 47%, a focus on class could offer genuine insight into contemporary debates about who succeeds and what helps them do it.  Instead we get a portrait of The American Dream as easily realizable since the only barriers to success are familiarity with social codes and etiquette.  Call me cynical, but a program that codes a lovely white woman (the actress is British, to boot) as “Other” not only bores me but is borderline offensive.

Most problematic, the show imbues one character with all the 1% venom, and this character is a woman.  While the white male characters are professional and compassionate towards our heroine Martina, the blonde woman (Stephanie March, in a thankless roll) is threatened by Martina (of course) and she repeatedly insults our young lawyer throughout the episode.  Do we really need one more show that reinforces the most simplistic readings of gender, class, and race?

Suburgatory (Premiered 9/28/11)

Allison Perlman, University of California – Irvine

Suburgatory is a run-of-the-mill fish-out-of-water sitcoms.  Tessa (Jane Levy) and her single father George (Jeremy Sisko) move from Manhattan to an unnamed suburb after George finds a package of condoms in Tessa’s room and decides that he needs to raise his daughter in a more wholesome environment.  The suburb they arrive in is a mélange of outmoded suburbia stereotypes, from the cookie-cutter homes with manicured lawns to the town’s cookie-cutter mindless, materialistic residents. All the women and girls seem to love pink.  The popular girls are mean, their mothers are vampy gossips, and both spend a lot of time texting. City kid Tessa, naturally, is an outcast in this environment while her father, naturally, quickly becomes the object of desire for a number of the sex-starved women in town.  Despite her disdain for her new home, Tessa comes around a bit by the end of the series’ pilot when Dalia (Cheryl Hines, in a role far beneath her talents), one of the mom-vamps, buys her a pink frilly bra to replace the humdrum but functional sports bra that Tessa had been wearing.  The new bra, in some way a synecdoche for the entire town, also signals that the previous absence of a traditional feminine influence in Tessa’s life, one thing that this suburb will provide her.

In sum, I dislike this show for many reasons.  The critique of the suburbs is stale and not especially germane to our cultural moment.  The gender politics of the show are similarly anachronistic.  The relationship between Sisko and Levy is the only likable part of the pilot, but even their banter can’t save a series that seems premised solely on worn out clichés.

Kyra Hunting, University of Wisconsin – Madison

This fall premiere season has been, in my opinion, woefully short on interesting sitcoms and so Suburgatory struck me as a breath of fresh air. It in many ways seems like a strange show for ABC; a bit like Easy A as a television series, or a Desperate Housewives for the younger set, and it may prove to be too specific a taste for the general audience of ABC’s Wednesday comedy block. However, I thoroughly enjoyed it. There has not been such a clever adolescent voice over on tv since The Wonder Years and it resonated with the gone but not forgotten 15 year old surbanite of my past. There is much about this series that is unrealistic, in particular the economic makeup of this “average” suburban town and the stereotypes of the individuals that populate this suburban jungle teeter precariously on the edge of satire and stupidity but underneath all that there is a kernel of something true about the frustration a young person feels in a community that seems completely alien to her. Tessa’s believably warm relationship with her father adds a more serious and heartfelt dimension to the series. Sisko, who you may remember from Six Feet Under, is likable as a young father, Cheryl Hines is truly funny as their neighbor, and the always charming Allie Grant, from Weeds, makes a great new friend for Jane Levy’s Tessa. Ultimately, I suspect that there will be many who dislike Suburgatory, it is too particular to be universally liked, and there may have been a more appropriate channel for it in the ranks of cable, but I for one will be returning to suburgatory soon.

Pan Am (Premiered 9/25/11)

Allison Perlman, University of California – Irvine

In case you missed the point, characters at the end of the pilot of Pan Am will spell it out for you.  At a table in a London bar, Kate (Kelli Garner) points to the photo of her sister Laura (Margot Robbie), a newly minted stewardess whose photo appears on the cover of Life magazine to accompany a story about “The Jet Age, and announces that the picture represents all of them, that they are the promise of the future.  Nearby, first officer Ted (Michael Mosley) tells the flight’s captain Dean (Mike Vogel) that their stewardesses are “natural selection at work” representing a “new breed of woman.”  In case you really missed the point, the final shot of the episode is of our four stewardesses striding confidently in step out of the airport and onto the tarmac as a girl, her little face pressed against the glass to see them, looks on admiringly.

Pan Am, in other words, seems to have little confidence in its audience or, really, in its own premise.  The pilot in seemingly every scene has non-diegetic music, from the soaring instrumentals of the opening sequence to the use of “Mack the Knife” in the final act in London.  The over-reliance on music however only highlights, rather than deflects from, the trite dialogue and banal plot lines.  The characterizations are clichéd and really heavy-handed, the use of flashbacks amazingly diminishing rather than augmenting the complexity of the characters.

Like The Playboy Club to which it has been linked, Pan Am has been identified as a network show trying its hand at a Mad Men-like series.  Yet neither show really seems all that interested in the era it depicts, aside from the costumes its characters can wear and the settings that the locations in the past allow them to explore.  (Pan Am does feature a short sequence in Cuba right during the Bay of Pigs, but it is so ridiculous and ahistorical that I hope and pray the series avoids any similar gestures to the political history of the 1960s.)  The reliance on a mob-murder in The Playboy Club and stewardess-as-cold-war-spy in Pan Am speak to this, as does the hackneyed characterization of the past that the series ostensibly are promising to upend.

Kit Hughes, University of Wisconsin – Madison

After watching NBC’s Mad Men rip-off The Playboy Club, I steeled myself last night for another dose of winky self-congratulatory “look at our authentic sets!” and “can you believe how sexist/racist/terrible things used to be?”  I was pleasantly surprised.  The visuals were actually quite nice; airport sleek is different enough from Madison Avenue slick that I didn’t find myself bored with the show’s gleaming interiors and international boulevards.  Not that the show doesn’t have its faults.  Besides some heavy-handed music choices (I think they might make it through the entire Sinatra catalogue in the first season) the episode suffered from poor sound mixing (I get that planes are loud but I put my foot down when an orchestral score wants me to be inspired so bad that I can’t hear people speak).  Characterization was also heavy-handed at times.  One of my favorite examples is Maggie (Christina Ricci), who plays a purser (a word said so many times in the first five minutes looking it up on Wikipedia seemingly constituted this week’s play-at-home-game).  Laughably bohemian, she flees her oddly painted apartment to catch a plane while a bearded, bespectacled man yells, “Does the Marxist dialectic count as a dual thesis?” It is network television, after all.  And with that in mind, Pan Am was well worth a watch.

Charlie’s Angels (Premiered 9/22/11)

Sharon Ross, Columbia College

Heaven help us—Charlie’s Angels have been reborn and clearly some kind of karmic retribution is occurring. Only my commitment to Antenna could have made me sit through the whole pilot; this was (as my colleague Kelly Kessler would say) a hot mess. There were about 2 moments of campy humor and there were accordingly about 2 moments of anything interesting happening in this story. Why should I be rooting for a socialite thief, a dirty cop, and…well, frankly I don’t know what Minka Kelly’s deal is exactly, except that it killed off a Latina actress (probably mercifully).

To be fair, I wasn’t expecting genius depth here; but maybe just a little USA network tongue-in-cheek kick-ass girl action, or the retro modern twist vibe of the first movie. Instead we got a show that asked us to take seriously dialogue such as “I never knew my heart could hurt this much” and “you’re angels of justice, not angels of revenge.” (Not even Victor Garber voicing Charlie could pull off this last line.) I felt like a 12 year old delivered this script—and that made me fell like a 12 year old (or perhaps more like a 16 year old sister forced to watch her little sister’s show).

This is TV at just about its worst: cookie cutter factory plotting and casting. I just can’t reconcile a story about Central American political strife and girl gang members turned good with Bernie Madoff jokes and hot women in red leather Devil outfits. There was a reason the absurdities of the original 1970s series had its charms—IT WAS THE 1970S, when the very thought of women leading a drama was a massive step forward. I wouldn’t even say, though, that this was a sexist show (though the bad dialogue paints the women as infantile in their mental development). It was “simply” a boring, uninspired, and trite pilot. Save yourself the trouble. I think it will be a quick cancellation, up as it is against X Factor, Community/Parks and Rec, Vampire Diaries, and Big Bang Theory. If you need your action chick fix, watch Nikita instead, my friends.

Revenge (Premiered 9/21/11)

Mary Beltrán, University of Texas, Austin

This vengeance tale, created by Wyck Godfrey, Marty Bowen, and Mike Kelley for ABC, focuses on Emily Thorne, the assumed identity of Amanda Clark, a young woman seeking revenge on the wealthy family responsible for framing her father for murders he didn’t commit seventeen years prior.  While Revenge hearkens back to the best of the ‘80s prime-time soap (think Dallas and Dynasty), it seems to lack the emotional complexity and originality—or in an alternative appeal, a wicked or winking sensibility—needed to draw in a sizeable contemporary audience.  The series stars Emily VanCamp as Thorne/Clarke and Madeleine Stowe as Victoria Grayson, icy matriarch of the Grayson family; while VanCamp offers a few poignant moments in the starring role, neither are particularly interesting to watch in these roles.    The rest of the cast is sprawling and poorly developed in the pilot; everyone is starkly defined into respective “have” and “have-not” roles in relation to the seaside Hamptons setting. Many, of course, have a secret.  The production values are notable: stylish settings and costumes and a taut soundtrack contribute to the series’ appeal, and a number of appealing, lesser-known actors promise to make the bumpy ride ahead entertaining. With further character and narrative development Revenge might deliver as a suspenseful soaper, but I’m not sure it will to do so quickly enough to save itself.

Sharon Ross, Columbia College

Revenge is Sweet. This is what Ringer (though it had its charms) should have been, to be blunt; and while I loved Emily Van Camp in her Everwood days, I truly didn’t know she had the ability to grace TV with such a delicious bitch—it’s as if Crystal Carrington finally saw the wonders of Alexis Colby and became her undercover acolyte. There’s also a fun Dallas nod with some sexual shenanigans taking place at a South Fork Inn—so yes, this is a soap, and if you love a good prime time soap this should keep you happy. (Incidentally, not a good fit as a follow-up to the ABC sitcoms.) We also have additional winning elements, however: a glamorous tale that still acknowledges class tensions and the current economic climate (allowing you to not feel bad about liking some of the socialites), intra-upper-class enmity that also taps into the myth of the American Dream, a terrorism sub-sub-plot (ups the ante for seeking revenge), and a nice use of flashbacks that stimulates your predictive mode as a viewer (leaves just enough hanging and provides just enough information). It also didn’t hurt that the pilot was beautifully shot and nicely directed (Phillip Noyce).

This is The Count of Monte Cristo for the Millennial Age. We know Emily will come to love people she sees as ends to a mean—and then have to choose about hurting them. We can tell she will do appalling things—perhaps unwittingly being duped by people she thinks she can trust (by perhaps even those she is trying to avenge). So many questions, so many potential answers—exactly how I like a good mystery driven soap to jump out of the gates. (Dare I say it reminds me of the best seasons of Desperate Housewives? Hope I didn’t just jinx it.) In short, if you like serials that pose some solid social, cultural, and moral dilemmas, this show could be for you. I’ll be tuning in for sure—other than 2 Broke Girls, the best premiere (new or old show) to-date. One question for the already-fans: when summer season ends, does it still take place in the Hamptons?

How To Be A Gentleman (Premiered 9/24/2011)

Evan Elkins, University of Wisconsin-Madison

How is it that in a program starring David Hornsby (Rickety Cricket from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia), Mary Lynn Rajskub (who, yes, was on 24, but will always be nearer and dearer to me as one of the goofier Mr. Show cast members), Rhys Darby (Murray from *Flight of the Conchords*), and Dave Foley (duh), Kevin Dillon has the funniest lines? Although Foley now cuts a Stephen Root-esque figure, he didn’t really register in the Jimmy James role, and the rest of the cast is mostly wasted on a bunch of joke-less banter. Still, network comedy generally takes time to develop, and there’s a
wealth of talent here. Perhaps it will mature into something unique and amusing.

You’ll notice that I’ve avoided discussing the episode itself, and that’s simply because there’s very little to say. How to be a Gentleman is about as average and forgettable as pilots get, and I can’t even muster the
enthusiasm to raise the usual critiques about regressive masculinity, awkward framing devices, and one-note characters. For this DVR-less luddite, the fact that its Thursday, 8:30pm EST time-slot butts up against the unimpeachable Parks and Recreation means this is probably the last time I’ll check in on the program.

A Gifted Man (Premiered 9/23/2011)

Nick Marx, University of Wisconsin – Madison

I watched the pilot for A Gifted Man, ate lunch for an hour, then sat down to write this review. In that time, I’ve forgotten most of what happened on this television program. To be sure, that’s a critique of its
milquetoast-iness, but it’s also a bit of a compliment. There’s a quiet subtlety to the show, one articulated in fine performances that save clunky dialogue and (what should prove to be) a pretty unsustainable premise. A guy who’s been in stuff you’ve liked and who I’m fairly certain is not Will Arnett (Patrick Wilson) plays a hotshot neurosurgeon alongside other semi-notable screen actors like Dexter’s Julie Benz and Justified’s Margo Martindale. One of them is his hippie sister, I think, and the other may or may not be the ghost of his dead ex-wife. Now, if Ghost Dad has taught us anything, it’s that when loved ones speak to you from beyond the grave and only you see them, hilarity ensues. A Gifted Man is not played for laughs, save for a sequence in which ghost wife urges the protagonist to keep an urban medical clinic afloat by turning on the computer she left behind. But after the pilot (credit is due to director Jonathan Demme for keeping things understated), it’s difficult to see the show balancing its tonal shifts
without in some way embracing the comedy of a dead woman tsk-tsking her selfish ex-husband into using his gifts to help the most underprivileged, most doe-eyed of New York’s ethnic stereotypes.

Myles Mcnutt, University of Wisconsin – Madison

Is this a television show? It’s a question that faces a large number of shows each year, but I was sort of
surprised to see it bandied about in the lead up to A Gifted Man’s premiere. Like most CBS pilots, the show establishes a pretty basic procedural construct: the eponymous surgeon will attempt to balance his own high-end private medical practice while trying to keep his dead wife’s free clinic operational as her ghost continues to visit him. Both sides of the storyline have the ability to spawn episodic stories, creating two distinct spaces in which they can sketch out the protagonist. What I realized, though, was that the question wasn’t whether or not it’s a television show, but rather whether it’s a television show that people should actually pay attention to. Not every episode will be directed by Jonathan Demme, and not every episode will have the sense of weight offered by a pilot. It seems as though people are quick to jump to conclusions about CBS pilots when even the slightest hint of procedural storytelling is present, especially in this case when a Ghost Whisperer comparison is unfortunately unavoidable. I’ll admit that the show will become more pedestrian once it settles into a pattern, and that I’m not convinced the supernatural elements will meld naturally with the rest of the series. However, I’m willing to give it some time to develop based on the strength of the cast (with recent Emmy winner Margo Martindale, Patrick Wilson,
and Jennifer Ehle among others) and on the idea that a great procedural is still great television provided it finds the right balance between form and function.

Person of Interest (Premiered 9/22/2011)

Derek Kompare, Southern Methodist University

This is one of those pilots that clearly got the green light based on more on its parts than on whether or not they could be assembled into anything that actually works. In this case, the combination of co-producer JJ Abrams, Lost alum Michael Emerson and former Messiah Jim Caveziel must have seemed tempting, but the added reassurance of a procedural premise and the standard array of action and intrigue finally swayed CBS. There might be a half-decent show floating around between these parts. It’s certainly competently produced, in a New York that somehow reminded me of Cagney & Lacey or better yet, The Equalizer. But the premise—a “machine” created after 9/11 to track potential terrorism and crime used by Emerson’s bazillionaire character to sic Caveziel’s world-weary former government agent on bad guys—makes no sense. Or at least it makes no sense within the procedural confines it was designed to fulfill. The pilot has moments where it feels like it’s trying to stretch beyond those boundaries (e.g., just how
much of a badass is Caveziel’s troubled character, and why), but too tentatively to make an impact. This may have a nice pedigree, but it’s a muddled, boring mess.

Mary Beltran, University of Texas – Austin

I feel a bit like the Grinch of TV in saying this, considering that Person of Interest was created by Jonathan Nolan (The Dark Knight) and that JJ Abrahams (Alias, Lost, Fringe, etc.) is among the executive producers, but the pilot just didn’t do it for me.  With a semi-supernatural storyline about a former CIA agent (portrayed with luminous grace by James Caviezel) who now attempts to prevent tragic happenings from happening with the aid of a mysterious billionaire (yay! the return of Michael Emerson to the small screen), I really wanted to like it.  I do think it has particularly smart casting—Caviezel and Emerson are strong and engaging actors who can imbue a scene with the pathos and suspense the series demands, and I also loved seeing Taraji P. Henson in the role of a police officer who’ll remain integral to the storyline.  In this regard the haunted tone of the series hit the bulls-eye, as I saw it.

However, the series falters in building on this intriguing tone to then make me care about the characters and want to return to them.  Lost managed this feat even while building a truly outlandish narrative (really, think about it), in part by grounding its characters in their real-life backgrounds, regrets, and desires, via the use of flashbacks.  This is where I think Person of Interest could take a lesson.  In this pilot, we learn that John Reese, in his past has lost a woman that he loves, and that he has been unable to return to a normal life as a result. Ultimately, we see that this loss and his associated regrets lead him to accept Finch (Emerson)’s offer to become a shadowy, spy-like vigilante.  However, this backstory is so underdeveloped, that it’s hard to get a handle on what this “love” meant to him or to care about who he is now.  Finch, similarly, is so mysterious that he often feels like a static caricature.  I’m afraid the producers went so far to create a supernatural-feeling suspense drama that they forgot audiences also simply need to care about the characters engaging in the suspense. I’ll give it another try, but I didn’t find this a compelling pilot.

Unforgettable (Premiered 9/20/2011)

Kit Hughes, University of Wisconsin -Madison

Admittedly, I chose to review Unforgettable partially because I wanted to ridicule its working title, The Rememberer.  This leads me to a dilemma, however, since I’m not sure if I should allude to 30 Rock’s fictional film The Rural Juror or shoehorn in some sort of joke about the show might be the ur (or erer)-text in a new genre bound by shocking levels of derivation.  In any case, the show is not good.  Late to the party on the psychic and mentalist procedurals, the show’s style and its “vision” sequences are fairly laughable.  Flashbacks employ a modified fish-eye lens look while Carrie Wells walks around, looks around, and reaches toward stuff.  To be clear, there are multiple Carries in the sequences, all aimlessly doing their thing—a crime scene vision that carries the same jolt of excitement provided by the triple-exposure effects that reigned in 1980s mall studio portraiture.  The narrative isn’t much better than the style.  The episode is genuinely baffling when Carrie decides to confront unarmed a murder suspect at night in his empty shipping yard.  (Did I mention that the police have DNA evidence of the murderer, and they already know that the suspect shares biological affinities with their evidence—more than enough for a subpoena? Oh, and the suspect isn’t a flight risk—and Carrie isn’t a cop.) The exposition is often lazy, and it is unclear how the show will tackle murders that Carrie didn’t personally witness.  As one of the characters tells Carrie, “bed pans and black jack: trust me, that’s not working.”

Sarah Murray, University of Wisconsin-Madison

Says the bad guy as he’s choking Poppy Montgomery with a crow bar: “You shouldn’t have come alone.” Says Dylan Walsh as he shoves his gun into the back of bad guy’s head and saves the day: “She didn’t.” Unforgettable tries very hard to be taken seriously and this may be its downfall. After a two-year hiatus following Without a Trace, Montgomery returns to CBS as burned out former detective Carrie Wells. Wells suffers from hyperthymesia, or “superior autobiographical memory” (as does Marilu Henner, apparently), which causes her to be tortured by her sister’s unsolved murder. This becomes the driving force of the show. A fortuitous murder re-connects her with former partner and lover Al Burns (Nip/Tuck’s Dylan Walsh) who subsequently promises to help her vindicate her sister if she joins his New York City-based squad.

There are plenty of grievances to be aired, but of utmost concern is plain old bad writing. It’s a terrible waste when actors who are capable of managing subtlety sound like they have pull strings (see above). Also, plot pacing based entirely on one woman’s total recall probably has a shelf life. Or maybe it doesn’t? Medium lasted awhile. I do wonder how they solved murders before Wells’s hyperthymesiac brain arrived. The supporting characters aren’t given much to work with either, evidenced by this gem: “If it’s a Derek Jeter rookie card, it’s mine” (referring to the discovery of the murder weapon).

The good news is that Walsh and Montgomery have decent chemistry, and Montgomery brings some oomph to the role (although pick an accent, please!). There’s also potential to explore storylines that deal with the unruly nature of memory and temporality, so long as the memory puns are kept to a
minimum (they were not in the pilot).

Myles McNutt, University of Wisconsin-Madison

Forgetting the show’s premise for a moment (see what I did there), there is nothing fundamentally wrong with Unforgettable – which, fun fact, was originally titled The Rememberer, so it could have been worse – structurally speaking: it sets up characters, it establishes relationships, and it even throws in a bit of history and mythology to provide some shorthand characterization and to complicate those relationships. However, when you work in the premise, the show becomes one enormous gimmick, as Poppy Montgomery channels Marilu Henner and everyone else who can creepily remember every piece of information they’ve ever known. While it’s nice for a procedural driven by a slightly enigmatic figure whose difference enables them to do better at their job – in the vein of House, The Mentalist, etc. – to feature a female lead, Poppy Montgomery is mostly a non-entity, and the device in practice just makes for awkward storytelling: she might remember everything, but she has to forget it at least briefly in order for the show to last forty minutes each week. As a result, the gimmick is ultimately subservient to the basic rhythms of procedural structure, and they’re more likely to be in conflict than in concert given what we saw in the pilot. However, perhaps all CBS needs – and perhaps all CBS is looking for – is the ability to say that you’ve never seen someone like this on television, which is technically true. As a result, a gimmicky and dull as Unforgettable was, it might just capture audience interest long enough to iron out some kinks, earn a second season, and become another long-running CBS procedural that confounds those of us who didn’t see anything worth saving upon its premiere.

2 Broke Girls (Premiered 9/19/2011)

Erin Copple Smith, Denison University

I really wanted to like 2 Broke Girls. I did. But I’m afraid the future looks bleak. For starters, a played out concept (the classic odd couple pairing) made worse by the usual 3-camera sitcom pilot heavy-handedness. (See Max the waitress. Max is hardened by living paycheck to paycheck. But she is friends with the elderly cashier, so we know she’s not heartless. See Caroline the fallen heiress. Caroline is a ditz. But she’s been to Wharton, so she’s not as dumb as you might imagine.) Then there’s the over-the-top raunchiness that’s meant to remind us that this isn’t your grandma’s 3-camera sitcom. (The first line of the episode has Max making a comment about her boobs, followed by her walking in on a waitress getting frisky in the walk-in, and several jokes about orgasms and bodily fluids.) But I could have forgiven all of that and written it off as pilot awkwardness if the pacing and acting had worked…unfortunately, they didn’t. For as much as I like Kat Dennings (Max), her performance here was clunky and eyeroll-inducing. And Beth Behrs (Caroline), while marginally better, was still something of a caricature of an Upper East Side airhead. Even worse were all of the supporting cast, whose performances were so one-dimensional as to be laughable (and not in a good way). The one conceit that seemed even remotely fresh emerged in the final minutes, when Caroline tries to convince Max that her homemade cupcakes are good enough to warrant opening a trendy bake shop–an endeavor that will only cost $250,000, an amount she thinks they can easily accumulate within a year if they both get extra jobs. The final shot is of their current total: $387.25. But I fear they won’t come close to hitting the $250,000 mark, since they’ll probably be canceled somewhere around $2500.