SCREENS BIG & SMALL: Who Cares?
Sentimentality use to be the sop of American popular entertainment. The good guys rode off happily into the sunset, while the bad guys got what they deserved. The extent of family dysfunction was limited to whether or not Junior would fess up over accidentally hitting a baseball through grumpy Mr. Wilson's window or whether fibbing to Mom to spare her feelings was the best course of action. The relationship of what we saw bore little resemblance to the reality of human behavior but was easily sponsored by Hallmark and Rexall.
While we may all embrace something slightly more astringent these days, the fact remains that for a good story, we need an interesting conflict and characters that are people we can identify with, at least to some degree. We need to care. Lately, on screens big and small, style and flash abound, but not folks we really care about too much. More and more, shows feature self-indulgent narcissists, whose actions are hardly laudable and whose interests are limited.
HELP ME HELP YOU (Tuesdays, 9:30, ABC)
Ted Danson has always been a wonderful talent, perhaps first noticed as a ballroom dancing attorney/sidekick to William Hurt in the movie, Body Heat. As Sam Malone on Cheers, we knew that underneath his cad-like exterior was a heart of gold. Becker was tougher to swallow, but as the psychologist on Help Me Help You, he is brash, abrasive, self-involved and, worst of all, not terribly funny. Nor are the loser patients, all looking for easy solutions to their problems and all too eager rest their rehabilitation on the bad doctor's rather unsound advice. The show is about bruised and bruising egos, without an honest bone (or word) in its vocabulary. It's a cheap snooze.
STUDIO 60 ON THE SUNSET STRIP (Mondays, 10 pm, NBC) The creative team behind The West Wing, Aaron Sorkin and Thomas Schlamme, brings their considerable writing and directing talent, along with a highly recognizable and likeable cast, to the small screen with great professionalism. But while the Presidency and the people behind the scenes of decisions that effect us all are naturally of interest, the actions of some showbiz types running an SNL-like TV show and making scads of money hold less appeal. Certainly, Bradley Whitford, Matthew Perry and Tim Busfield bring a certain built-in good will, but are their character's problems really all that interesting? A recent episode about accidental plagiarism is a topic, a faux pas, but not really something to get all that worked up about for an hour.
UGLY BETTY (Thursdays, 8 pm, ABC) at least has the sense to put a well-intentioned, if supposedly homely young woman at the center of a fable about the evil in the fashion world. They further give her a boss whose playboy behavior is tempered with the possibility of redemption--because he respects the homely young woman despite the temptations of the high veneer world in which he works. America Ferrara, whose natural attractiveness still successfully burst through the braces, horned-rims and horrible hair, plays it straight without commenting on the character, Vanessa Williams and Michael Urie make unapologetically funny villains, and the show is told with great visual flair. Most importantly, it seems to work so far because they spin a fast-paced, dramatically interesting story. Conflicts are clear, if stylized, and its fun to watch. Covering similar territory to the bloated and ultimately timid movie of The Devil Wore Prada, the creative team knows that you can't satirize a world and yet treat the clothes and the people who make them with undisguised reverence. Ugly Betty scores for now--but will we care about this paper thin world for an entire season and beyond?
BROTHERS & SISTERS (Sundays, 10 pm, ABC) continues to be about a family in a California food manufacturing business (yawn) who are in legal and financial trouble (boo-hoo) and are still re-coiling from the death of a father who was not the idyllic sweetheart they all supposed him to be. (Tom Skerritt is missed, not only by the family, but by the viewers--he was an interesting and believable, if flawed character.) The brothers and sisters of the title are all highly attractive, with the sisters played by two of the best actresses of a certain age, Kristin Griffith and Calista Flockhart. But all we really see from this generation of the family is a lot of hand-wringing and political/sexual/ethical confusion, portrayed one note at a time. It is the "older folk" on the show who actually engage us. Patricia Wettig and Ron Rifkin have yet to fully cut lose--or rather, their storylines are evolving slowly, carefully--but we believe they have lives going on between the moments when the camera catches them in their behavior. But if there really is a reason to become addicted to this show, it is the opportunity to watch Sally Field work her magic. Yes, we watched her grow up on TV, yadayadayada; yes, she's won two Oscars for plucky heroines, and played an inspiring mom to Forrest Gump; and yes, she's gone bi-polar and beyond in TV movies like Sybil and guest shots on ER. But on B&S, she's been given a real woman to play, and she plays her warts, heart and all. You see a humiliated woman lash out with mean glee, a loving mother trying to win over children whom she wants to control and can't, a strong-willed person of strong opinions who vacillates between optimism and pessimism and yet refuses to let herself give in to despair. Without soft camera shots to hide the aging face of a woman in her mature years, Field is natural, real and incredibly beautiful. She is a triumph of television acting at its best. One hopes that the "youngsters" on the show are taking copious notes, for they've got a rich mentorship here.
Finally, for real heart-pounding, will-they-won't-they thrills, combined with great music, movement and human interest, it doesn't get better than . . . dare I say it? A reality show? . . . DANCING WITH THE STARS (Tuesdays and Wednesdays, 8 pm, ABC). Hosted with genuine wit and panache by Tom Bergeron, we watch as celebrities we know from other venues are working with professional dance partners in a week-to-week ballroom competition, with a couple being eliminated each week. No, it's not as torturous as They Shoot Horses, Don't They? and they're not gonna dance till they drop. But the passion, commitment, and learning that happens both behind the scenes and on the dance floor is fascinating. The judges are opinionated but genuinely appreciative of the efforts put out there, which means that they in no way try to be the stars of the show. The "behind the scenes" rehearsal sequences are marvelously done, perfectly capturing the developing relationships of these mutually dependent partners and their desire to really develop both the technique and beauty of this art form. They literally are dancing their butts off, and each time when a couple is sent home in the elimination, you feel both their disappointment and their joy at having attempted something new in their lives, with a result that has changed them forever. Unlike American Idol or most of the other so-called reality shows, this is the a splendid ride, one that you don't want to miss for one minute. (Predictions: hard, since it's surprising who's gone home so far and who has survived, but look to see Mario Lopez and Joey Lawrence in the final three. And are Willa and Max actually falling in love before our eyes?)
And on the big screen . . .
THE SCIENCE OF SLEEP
Michael Gondry, whose visual flair and fascination with how the mind works (and doesn't work) made Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind a treat (and managed to bring the usually out-of-control Jim Carrey into balance with the gifted Kate Winslett and the always enjoyable Tom Wilkinson) here attempts again to play with our psyches. In The Science of Sleep, he explores the tale of Stephane, a young man who has apparently always had a difficult time differentiating between his dream life and his reality, and Stephanie, the lonely woman who moves in across the hall. Are they meant for each other or are they an impossible match? Unfortunately, this time around, the story gets so overwhelmed by special effects and, yes, we don't learn enough to care about these self-indulgent characters, so that the story becomes incomprehensible. That international hottie, Gael Garcia Bernal, brings as much charm as he can muster to the role of Stephan, and Charlotte Gainsbourg makes a plaintive plain Jane, but they don't really have much chemistry together and we're not really sure they should end up together, so where does that leave us at the end? (I won't describe the ending, not only because I shouldn't, but also because I'm not so sure that I can!) Some stunning visuals don't compensate for the feeling that we've all been stuck in a truly confusing dream, one we're not likely to be able to interpret once we awaken--and that we probably will go ahead and forget after the first cup of coffee.
As performing artists go today, they don't come much classier or with more talent than Audra McDonald, the beautiful lady who can sing and act with the best of them (as witnessed by four Tony Awards, an Emmy nomination, etc.). In interviews and on PBS pledge drives, she seems like a normal person and a mom, with a keen intelligence and extremely good taste. Best of all, she seems totally at peace with her gifts and comfortable in her own skin. Her albums thusfar have all been superbly produced with a rich selection of material, blending top composing talents from the theater, pop and folk with standards and classics around which Ms. McDonald can blend her velvety voice. (Check out, for example, what she can do with Jason Robert Brown's Stars and the Moon, a mini-play about misguided dreams and longing.) Her latest CD, Build a Bridge, is likewise a classy event, with songs by everyone from John Mayer to Randy Newman. Her voice remains an amazingly nuanced instrument and her diction and clarity are superb. Particularly wonderful are her simple, heartfelt versions of Newman's I Think it's Going to Rain Today, Joe Raposo's Kermit classic, Bein' Green, and Nellie McKay's whimsically satiric I Wanna Get Married. She also does well by the music of Neil Young, Rufus Wainwright, and the late Laura Nyro (especially on Tom Cat). Slightly more unusual this time around are a couple of misfires. God Give Me Strength, the Burt Bacharach/Elvis Costello ballad recorded by the likes of Bette Midler, Kristen Vigaard and Costello himself, should be a triumph for Ms. McDonald with its soaring melody and range of emotional colors, but it never seems to land in her voice or her key, disrupting a song of strong emotional build into a jumble of changes and a narrative mess. And Dividing Day, from Adam Guettel's wonderful musical, The Light in the Piazza, which should benefit from stark, simple reflection--something at which Audra McDonald excels--instead gets a little overdressed, and it shows. Still, these are excellent songs as befits her superb taste, and less than her best still is far superior than the average chanteuse, such that Build a Bridge makes another CD to add to your collection of class acts.
