My own self

The world is no longer a romantic place. Some of its people still are however, and therein lies the promise. Don't let the world win, Ally McBeal.

- John Cage

Before the summer, I reviewed the first two seasons of Ally McBeal, and then took a break from the show. When I returned to it this autumn, however, I found that I'd missed it more than I realised. Something about this show just gets to me on an emotional level.

The acting is good - much of it downright great - and the heavy use of music is both engaging and obvious without feeling intrusive. As people who know me well will attest, I'm a sucker for a good musical, and a horde of episodes of this show are closet-musicals dying to be let out. The season three finale is even named Ally McBeal: The musical, Almost.

I'm sure this point alone threw a lot of you off, but don't worry, with the exception of that episode, people don't really burst into song here. There's the odd exception, sure, but for the most part, what they burst into is dancing. And good gods, I love their dancing. There is something so beautiful to this group of tight-knit friends who'll spontaneously start dancing to the song existing only in their minds. I'm not ashamed - though perhaps slightly embarrassed - to admit that many of these little dancing-scenes moved me to tears just from the sheer joy expressed on screen. There's something special about that.

The quote I opened with definitely describes the main character, but it also goes for the show - perhaps even more so. Those who've seen Kelley's Boston Legal knows he's an ace at combining the ridiculously silly with the heart-warmingly poignant and beautiful, and Ally McBeal is just as good at it. But where Boston Legal is a soap box for grand political statements, McBeal combines its warmth with personal stories. The little everyday neurosis, the tiny social dramas blown out of proportions, the soap without the box, if you would.

With all this emotion, it is perhaps no surprise the show is frequently hysterically funny - and frequently also rather sad. Reality is a constant threat hovering around the walls of the offices of Cage & Fish, and sometimes, even this crazy group of rich lawyers have to deal with tragedies pushed on them from the outside. Sometimes reality even catches up with them internally, and those are perhaps the saddest scenes of all.

While most characters on this show leave a mark, some must be mentioned by name. Flockhart's McBeal is an obvious start - the show is very much about her. You basically have to go watch House to find a show more clearly centered on its protagonist. And yet, as the show progresses, we get entire episodes were she basically doesn't even appear, symptomatic of what this really is - an ensemble show in disguise. I mentioned McBeal rather thoroughly in my previous post, however, and I also covered my other favourites - the characters of Ling, Nelle and more than anyone else the incredibly awesome John Cage and Richard Fish. I'll thus skip over them and mention some other characters that also left a mark.

Most missed, perhaps, of those who remain, is Robert Downey Jr.'s Larry Paul of season 4. [SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU'VE NEVER SEEN SEASON 4 OR 5] His departure from the show is still hurting both Ally and the viewer a full season later - that's a product of good writing, absolutely, but it also says something about how incredibly strong Downey Jr's performance was. Heck, I still walk around wishing there was just one more episode for him to potentially come back in, and the show's been over since 2002.

Also, Elaine Vassal. Frequently annoying, even more frequently amusing, and always, always sympathetic, she's the character I realise I most frequently under-appreciate when I talk about this show. She provides a grounding in reality and a broad highway straight into crazy at the same time, and in both cases, it is a much more simple, straightforward - in my eyes, admirable - view of life than the title character ever manages. Good going, Jane Krakowski.

Finally - ruthlessly skipping over all those who also deserve mention - Hayden Panettiere's appearance in the final season as a ten year old. Where did she throw these acting skills away before she started starring on Heroes? Someone should find them for her. Anyway, I rarely find child actors to be more than passable at best, and usually they're downright annoying. Not here. I wouldn't say I loved the character, but it was a character it would have been very easy to hate, and I didn't at all.

As usual, I've ended up talking mostly about characters - I guess it's clear what I care about in a show. But plots are hardly irrelevant. Without spoiling anything, what I said initially about reality is very much the case in all of these three seasons. Simplified, season three deals with reality's increasing grip on the internal mechanisms of the group. Season four looks at reality's hold on Ally herself, and both her and other central characters' personal lives, especially romantically. Season five finishes off with the final pounding of the barbarians of the real on the gates of Cage & Fish, and the eventual, unavoidable outcome.

Some of the classical weaknesses of Kelley's shows, such as the tendency to completely shift around the casts with little to no explanations between seasons, only really occurs between season 4 and 5, and even there, most of it is pretty minor and easily explained. The show is smart, it's funny, it's engaging, and it's going to stand proudly at the front of my DVD-shelf - alphabetical ordering really speaks in Ally's favour. Most importantly, this show, for all its crazy fantasies, obsessive characters, self-centred drama and soapy plot-points, this show is human. So very human. Maybe not like most human experience actually is, but by Jove, the way it should be.

With a song in your heart every single day; and a spontaneous group-dance in the unisex.

Looking backwards, many of the saddest times in my life turn out to be the happiest.

So I must be happy now. Yeah. This is gonna be good.

Why else would I be crying?

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2. c4 Nc6
3. Nc3 dxc4
4. Nf3 f6
5. Bf4 g5
6. Bg3 h5
7. e3 Be6
8. Nb5 Rc8
9. b3 h4
10. Bxc7 Rxc7
11. Nxc7+ Qxc7
12. e4 Bg4
13. d5 Bxf3?!
14. Qxf3 Qa5+
15. Kd1 Nd4
16. Qe3 e5
17. Bxc4 Bc5
18. a4 Qb4
19. g3 a6
20. gxh4 Rxh4
21. d6 Bxd6
22. Bxg8 b5
23. h3 Rh8
24. Bd5 Bc5
25. Bb7?? Nxb3
26. Qe2 Nxa1
27. Bxa6 Qxa4+
28. Ke1 Qxa6
29. Kf1 Ke7
30. Kg2 Nb3
31. Rb1 Nd4
32. Qd1 Qa3
33. Ra1 Qxh3+
34. Kg1 Qh1#
0-1


Congratulate Obdormio on his valiant efforts.
(Even though his armies marched first, the imperialist bastard)

It has been pointed out to me - quite needlessly, but also flatteringly, and accordingly I don't mind at all - that there's been a sad amount of updates in this weblog of mine these last few weeks. Months. And what there has been, I'll usually reply with mindful self-deprecation, has been little amusing quotes. No posts of substance.

My posts of attempted substance have usually centred, with some few exceptions, on TV-reviews. I have no capacity this autumn to do many of those. Nor do I have the time to do book-reviews (heck, I don't even have the time to read non-curricular books), comic-reviews, movie-reviews... or, for that matter, the odd nonsense and musings on fanciful topics. I'm in the middle of putting an (unwanted) end to this university education of mine with an attempt to do twice the amount of courses you're intended to. I'm simultaneously digging through the bureaucracies of two countries, trying to figure out the whys and hows of next year without getting anything fatefully wrong. And, people, I still watch all that TV I don't take the time to review.

But tonight, I found myself with the urge to post, as it were, and so I'll do a composite post of what I am, have been, and will be watching this autumn. Some of it's started, some of it's already over, and some of it won't come around for quite a number of weeks yet. So please, come with me down the rabbit hole of much too much American television.


The story so far
As the summer was ending, and my Kings-abstinences were finally starting to subside, a lovely show named Easy Money was also waving its last goodbye. Having only ever gotten to finish eight episodes, this excellent little drama about a family of loan-sharks only managed to get four of them on the air last autumn. When the network finally started dumping the remaining four at the end of the summer nearly a year later, I was delirious to revisit the Buffkins and their morally ambiguous lives. Four weeks later, I was once again left hanging, all the more bitter this time for the certain knowledge there will never be more.

Then the beginning of the autumn proper was marked by the exit of True Blood's second season, which impressed me by being a good step above its predecessor. While I'm still not crazy about the show, it has solidified itself as a show in the upper end of the middle-tier of shows I deem good enough to bother with. Back when I first saw the pilot, I'd honestly not expected it to ever creep up to the midle-tier at all. So congratulations to Alan Ball and company. May your days be many and conveniently clouded.

Finally, Mad Men started back up. And while at first, I was still feeling like before about the show (everything is exquisite beyond belief except the dramatical confrontations and pay-offs), I have by now, especially in light of the most recent episode, started thinking that woah, the show might even be starting to do the big pay-offs right. While I can't claim to watch them all, I have to say, Mad Men is very likely to be the best made show in current American TV. If it is actually starting to improve in the one area I felt it was lacking, the sky's the limit.

Apocalypse, nowish
Boom. Mid-september hit, and so did premieres. Dexter, starting next week, and How I Met Your Mother, already on into its autumn roll, are both stockpile-shows that I'll catch up with come late December, but they're far from alone. New shows and returning shows, September's been a rich month for TV. Almost too rich - they're raining down on me so fast I ended up quoting an Angel-episode just to find a title for this section of the post.

In chronological order, as it were, this month of fresh TV started with Glee. I saw and liked the pilot this spring, and despite its dreary high-school premise, my fondness for musicals combined with the show's great humour is quickly bringing it up among my favourites this fall.

Another newcomer was Community, a half hour sitcom about a lawyer whose college diploma has been discovered as a fake and who ends up having to attend a crappy community college or face disbarment. So far, the two episodes have entertained and shown promise, but the great jokes, while there, are still too far between for a show that tries to be an outright comedy. For a drama, this show'd be hilarious, but for a sitcom, I feel it is a bit lacking. Still, when it's good, it's good, and I'll likely end up following it all fall in the hopes it will get better yet.

On the same day as Community leaped into the fray, Fringe came back with its second season. Crime procedurals don't really enthuse me much, no matter how much the try to disguise themselves as science fiction. But with a couple of really charming characters in a really distinct and unique father-son-relationship combined with an admittedly flawless execution of the plots-of-the-week, the show remains good enough to be worth the bother. With a little luck, the show will trap itself in its own mythos like Lost did, only quicker and with less obvious fillers on the road there. Not among my favourites this autumn, but given my standing investment of an entire season, I'm more willing to follow it further than I otherwise would be. Odds are that by Christmas, I'll have committed to this one for good, even if its basic structure is rather underwhelming.

Then followed another new sitcom, Bored to Death. With only one episode under its belt as of yet, this laid-back HBO comedy centres on a young author stuck with a writer's block on his work with his second novel. He turns to weed and white wine for inspiration, and his addiction eventually makes his girlfriend leave him. In desperation, he starts an impromptu career as an unlicensed private investigator. Yet another show I'm not sold on, but again one that seems to hold some promise. In particular the main character's best friend, a kid comic book artist trapped in a man's body, was hilarious. The show can also boast Ted Danson as a regular, which helps with the draw. Depending on how overwhelmed my TV-plate gets, this one might get the boot, but for now, I'm sticking with it out of curiosity.

Third and last of the new sitcoms I've tried this month is Accidentally on Purpose, where Jenna Elfman stars as a movie critic in her late thirties who gets pregnant on a one-night stand with a much, much younger man. The show was consistently funny - more so than Bored to Death or Community - but had less charm and identity. The pilot felt like it could have been an episode from any given sitcom of the last ten years, albeit a well-written one. However, one should not ever judge a show by its pilot, and once again, I'll be back for at least one more.

House M.D. is also back this month, and true to form, Hugh Laurie's magnificent as the title character. With the exception of a small Robert Sean Leonard-cameo, the remaining regular cast is absent in the double-episode season premiere. While I don't mind the regular cast at all, this is extremely good - because it also means that the premiere doesn't follow the show's regular episode formula. By the sixth season, the medical procedural with the House-twist has gotten incredibly old, and the only reason I'm still watching is because House himself is so compelling. The show, then, is by far at its best when it breaks this formula, and for two blessed hours including commercial breaks, it did so here. Stellar job, people. I can only hope and pray it'll retain a fragment of the awesome when it returns to predictable form next week.

On the very same day, Heroes returned, joining Fringe as the bottom of my barrel of expectations. Interestingly, my low expectations combined with a quite decent episode and Robert bloody Knepper made me quite happy with the premiere. If they keep going in this direction, the season could at least measure up to "volume 4" (the second half of season 3), which was rather decent too. In all honestly - anything that avoids the utter miserable crap that was "volume 3" will be appreciated. I'd even take the aimless-feeling season 2 again if we could avoid that. The trick to enjoying this show seems to be low expectations and accepting that Hiro simply will never die no matter how many stupid things he does, and I'm getting there. At least on the former half of that sentence. And as I said, the premiere was very decent indeed. Downright good in some aspects. I'm finding myself strangely up for more.

The third component to my barrel-bottom is traditionally Smallville which, despite its gradual improvement over the last four seasons (it has started season NINE now, if you can believe that), can never really shake my old, first-four-seasons' worth of "good LORD, this show's bad"-impressions. Admittedly, those first four seasons also had some really awesome nuggets of pure gold sprinkled in, usually involving Lex and Lionel Luthor. With both those characters gone by season 9, it is odd to see how the show can have improved so much on its average episode, and at the same time also never really reach the heights of those stellar masterpieces here and there that originally committed me to the show. Even so, all my prejudices aside, there is nothing to do but admit hands down that by now, for the most part, Smallville is a downright good show. And with the addition of the charming Callum Blue to the cast this season, I might almost forget how much I miss Lex and Lionel. Almost.

Final among the September Arrivals is also the one I've been looking forward to the most. In fact, I just watched it in the middle of writing this post. Dollhouse. An unabashed Joss Whedon-fan I might be, but the first five episodes of season 1 were really nothing special at all. Luckily, the show improved vastly starting with episode 6, and the thirteenth episode was nothing short of epic. This season premiere had a lot to live up to, and in my book, it did. Keeping everything that was good about episodes 6-12 alive and building it to new heights was exactly what I expected and wanted from this premiere, and it was exactly what I got. That, and razor sharp dialogue, great emotional moments, and wonderful characters. I even got an episode plot that wasn't standalone so much as it was a season plot cleverly disguised as a standalone. And Jamie Bamber being awesome and British and mean. And Amy Acker and Fran Kranz blowing my emotional equilibrium with every single scene. And Alexis Denishof as a Republican politician on a righteous rampage. And a hundred other, awesome little things. And beyond it all, looming in the horizon, chillingly conspicuous in its absence of overt reference, was episode thirteen and the both sad and scary taint it puts on every single little plot-development. As last season ended, I was hopeful about the show. As the thirteenth episode got out with the DVD, I got quite enthusiastic. Now, I'm sold for good. This show will be my favourite this autumn, I'm almost sure of it. Now let's just hope that episode 2 won't let down my soaring expectations.

Tomorrow, tomorrow
So is that all? Oh no. Oh no no no, is it ever not. Next month comes Star Wars: The Clone Wars back with its second season, a digitally animated show that in the latter half of season 1 quite surprised me with its (for Star Wars) rather complex stories and ethical dilemmas. I find myself almost embarrassingly excited to see if season 2 will make it even better. Also new in science fiction franchises next month will be Stargate: Universe, the Stargate-series' try at doing a Trek'y show with a darker frame than the predecessors in the vast SG-continuity. While I'm not a big fan of the old two, I've seen every single episode, which amounts to an ungodly amount of hours. There is no way I'm not following that continuity to its end now. Also? Robert Carlyle! So yeah. But still, my expectations are rather low, and checking this out is almost more of a duty I have to my standing previously mentioned ungodly commitment of time to this universe than it is any real interest.

Also in October is the final piece in the Battlestar Galactica-puzzle, as The Plan is released on DVD a good many months before it'll apparently air on Syfy. Seeing as I'm obviously a huge fan, and also wasn't as disappointed by the show's ending as many others were, I'm quite besides myself with anticipation for this promised answer to (hopefully all) remaining little nagging questions.

Finally, Legend of the Seeker will start back up towards the end of the autumn. Can't say I'm at all excited. I love the books, for all their flaws, but season 1 was as big a departure from those books as Quack Pack is from The Life and Times of $crooge McDuck. Entertaining in its own, cheesy, blatantly Xena-esque style and way, but not at all what I was wanting. Nor really a show quite suited for my tastes. Still, there is very little by the way of fantasy shows on air, and I sort of feel I should take what I can get. There's also the undeniable fact that season 1's very best episodes were in many ways rather good, even if the season as a whole was an insufferable cheesefest. So I might end up caving to my completism and deciding to follow this show yet another few steps further. We shall see.


-------

There. My autumn in TV-shows. I'm sure some additional surprises will turn up along the way in one form or another. Of shows airing this autumn, I should probably also check out Entourage, but with the six season head-start it has, that's severely unlikely to happen. Of other old shows, I'm coupling the new stuff with my first ever rewatch of Ally McBeal, where I'm currently mid-way in the penultimate season, and my first structured watch-through of the eminent Batman: the Animated Series. I've recently finished its spin-off Justice League: Unlimited as well as the British The Office, the miniseries State of Play, and a rewatch of the brilliant West Wing, so if you're interested in hearing what I think of any of these things, you should give a shout-out in the comments as I like mentioned probably won't find the time and energy to write proper reviews. (There should be some of West Wing already, though, if you're up to doing a little search).


Hopefully, there's one person out there who actually bothered to read all this. If not, well, that's another hour of my life wasted, I suppose. Cheers! And thanks for reading.

He's right on top of us. I wonder if he is using the same wind we are using...

-Inigo Montoya, about the boat following theirs,
The Princess Bride.

With Mark Addy and Sean Bean. Good lord!

http://grrm.livejournal.com/95840.html

"I am prepared to die."
"Good. I'm prepared to kill you."

- Darth Kruhl and Emperor-in-Exile Roan Fel

If you're anything like me at all, you enjoy the idea of Star Wars more than the actual movies. By that I mean the archetypes, the grand mythos, the entire world that we were shown in the movies more than the mere plots inside them should indicate. Sure, Empire Strikes Back is a pretty great movie, but mostly, what these movies have going for them can be summed up in cool concepts: The lightsabers, the space-fights, the lasergun-slingers, the Jedi Order protecting a corrupt galaxy, the Sith Order trying to rule it, the Grand Moffs cooly ordering genocides, the Jedi Spirits, the Death Star, the roaring Wookie, the Force, and just about everything about Darth Vader. These things are all awesome, and they, in addition to the common appeal of legend/fairytalesque plots in general, are why I find these movies to be such an important part of my DVD-collection.

Because of enjoying these concepts, I've at many points in my life delved into the chasm of entertainment that is the Star Wars Expanded Universe. There are novels, short stories, comics, video games, computer games, and TV-series. And a whole bunch of other stuff. I've mainly kept with the novels and the comics, though I should say both the TV-serials based upon the Clone Wars, one of which is still on-going, are surprising me with their level of quality.

Now, I've by no means read all the novels and comics, I've not even read all the good ones - believe you me, there are many not so good ones out there too - but I've read enough to have a basic grasp of the history of the gigantic Star Wars universe. It goes back to millenia before the prequel-movies, and covers events during, between and even after the six films of Lucas' making. And for the most part, it all fits together in a gigantic continuity. The latter appeals to me a lot, because I'm an anal crazy-person.

Anyway, to get to the point, even though books and comics have previously ventured pretty far ahead into the time after Return of the Jedi, they never went beyond the years were the good old main characters could reasonbly be expected to be active. Until Star Wars Legacy. Legacy jumps a full century ahead in time from the last point we have previously been told stories from - a point which was already a good three decades after he final film - and introduces us to a very changed Star Wars-universe. New characters, new allegiances, new conflicts. So does it work?

Holy crap, yes! And the why is the concepts. There are lightsabers, there are Jedi, there are Sith, there are evil Moffs and Jedi Spirits, the whole shebang. These familiar, tantalizing concepts have in Legacy been put into a completely new environment, which harkens back to and descends from but is still very different when compared to the good old days of Palpatine's Empire. There are three branches of Force-users now - the Jedi, who are much like they were in their glory days of the Old Republic. The Imperial Knights, who do not adhere to the light- and dark-side philosophies but rather swear loyalty to the Emperor personally over any one value-system. The Emperor is a descendent from the Fel-family, a major group of characters in the novels and comics taking place after Return of the Jedi, who apparently at some point became the heads of what was left of Palpatine's Empire. Now, this Emperor is not a bad guy, if anything, he's rather benevolent. But he was usurped by a new and changed Sith Order who also extinguished most of the Jedi Knights, making Legacy start out in a world with a handful of Jedi, vast armies of Sith, and a third group of Force-users supporting the now Emperor-in-Exile.

And then there's a new Skywalker, who is a little bit like Han Solo would be if he had had basic Jedi training and was really, really grumpy. Together with all of these pieces come plots which, while maybe not brilliant, are far more intricate and interesting than most of the linear storylines of the original movies.

After three volumes, I'm well and truly hooked, and I will continue trying to set aside money to buy these TPBs. Legacy has breathed new life into the Star Wars-universe for me - and it has even retroactively made things that happen before it more interesting, as the century-long gap of information preceding it is now basically just begging to be filled. Where did Luke go? What about Leia? And all their children?

If you have any interest in Star Wars and think you could enjoy a comic with new characters and new plots but the same good old concepts that drew you to the original movies in the first place, I suggest you check out Legacy. If not, well, I'm thoroughly impressed you managed to stay interested throughout the entire post!

Everyone's alone, Ally. It's just easier to take in a relationship.

- Richard Fish

Three years back, I stumbled over some Ally McBeal-reruns, watched them, and decided that hey, I would like to sit down and watch this show from end to end some day. I've not done that yet, but two months or so ago, I finally got started on the project.

I watched Ally McBeal during its original Norwegian run the gods know how many years back, but I never managed to follow it regularly enough to catch every single episode. I saw most by far, but not all, and not completley in the right order, what with summer-reruns and waiting for new seasons. I liked it. I remember my early-teenage self having two important reasons why: Peter MacNicol's John Cage and Greg Germann's Richard Fish. Two delightful supporting characters of wit, eccentricity and, in their own ways, a curious moral integrity - an integrity which in Fish's case went straight against most of his character traits.

They amused me to no end. John's courtroom antics, Fish's delightfully cynical yet strangely optimistic philosophies on life, John's inner music and bathroom gymnastics, Fish's rampant greed and cheuvinism. It was hilarious, and it was exciting. The other characters weren't bad either, even if the title role was rather whiny at times. Still, the main strength being two secondary characters didn't exactly put it up there with my favourite TV-shows ever.

Upon catching the reruns, what struck me the most was how good the dialogue was - not just that of Cage and Fish, but that of their entire law firm. I hadn't noticed this in my early teens; the characters had registered as funny, but I hadn't realised that this was as much because of the dialogue as the acting. The second thing that struck me was how powerful and filled with sentiment the show was. (If you add a much stronger politically angled perspective it shares this trait to a very large extent with D. E. Kelley's other quirky lawyer show, Boston Legal, which I've previously reviewed season 1, 2, 3 and 4 of, and plan to one day get around to writing a post on the final season of as well). The emotion, the ups and downs of these characters, they register, as do the issues they deal with - sometimes in spite of their ridiculous lawsuits and insane eccentricities, but also sometimes because of them. This was not something I really expected from my memories of the show, but with the added maturity of ten years, it was something I picked up on quite a lot.

Now that I've seen the first two seasons from beginning to end, these two impressions have certainly only gotten stronger. They have, however, been joined by more. First, Ally McBeal is a show that manages to mix the melancholical with the perky, and the angsty with the hopeful. I sometimes get sad or blue from watching an episode, but if I watch three, I'll usually have balanced out to pretty happy again. The main character is an emotional roller-coaster, and this actually translates very well to me as a viewer. (Yesyes, I am an enormous sap who lets good TV get to his emotionals state. Bygones).

Which brings me to a second point - Ally McBeal herself is far less annoying. Oh, sure, every once in a while you feel she deserves a good kick in the rear or bucket of cold water in the face, but for the most part, she's kind of likable. Much like most of her collegues, I now find her to be ridiculously self-absorbed, vain, self-pitying, naïve and also quite the drama queen - but also much like most of her collegues, I find her genuinely sweet and caring personality to be mediating this to the point where she's strangely likable. This obviously improves my enjoyment of the show greatly and also helps me understand how the show could ever have gotten as popular as it did in the first place.

A third point is that while I as a kid remembered the courtroom cases strongly from the show, having now seen other lawyer-shows, I realise that hey, this show is mainly a drama with elements of both soap and comedy. But a lawyer-show? Well, I suppose. Most episodes, though, spend five or six times more time on even secondary characters' personal lives than on actual cases they do as lawyers. The law-firm is simply the framework for this show; it is a show about people whose jobs happen to be as lawyers, not a show about lawyers who happen to have interesting personal lives.

Fourth, McBeal is not the only character who looks more fun and interesting in hindsight. So do the rest. I always enjoyed Lucy Liu's Ling, but I've now found a lot of interest in Portia de Rossi's Nelle as well, and the remaining characters as well are almost to a one more interesting than last time around. Thus, while I still love Cage and Fish, they're suddenly no longer the characters making the show worth watching - now, they're but icing on an already quite tasty cake.

As for the two seasons, well, the addition of Ling and Nelle in season 2 was awesome in many ways. It added a level of sweetness to both Cage and Fish through their romantical entaglements that I would never have wanted to be without. It is also delightful to see the rest of the firm reel in hostility against the arrival of the two ice-cold super-women. Further, where season 1 was largely a rather sad albeit optimistic story of how Whipper leaves Richard, Ally doesn't want to be with John, and Billy doesn't want to be with Ally, season 2 has more ups and downs.

Oh, and I love the way this show uses music. I absolutely love it. The dance-scenes in particular are amazing. I love it so much when they all start dancing in the unisex bathroom, or for John's birthday in the downstairs bar. It's hilarious, exciting and so incredibly sweet it's almost saddening all at the same time. There is an incredible sense of the pure joy of life bubbling through this show, and it has smitten me.


Ally McBeal might still not be my favourite show, but I'll say this - of truly massively popular shows, I've very rarely seen any that deserved it more. I'm very excited about checking out season 3 now, even though it'll likely have to wait until this fall. I believe that already with the first two seasons, though, Ally McBeal has proven that it deserves a spot somewhere in the lower half of my top ten TV-shows-list. Considering how much TV I watch, that's an enormous accomplishment.

You on this day are called upon to decide whether from this time forward you desire that mad and unprincipled magistrates¹ should be stripped of the protection afforded them by wicked and dastardly citizens, or actually armed with the awful sanction of the immortal gods.² For if that plague-spot and devouring flame of the republic³ should succeed in defending by means of divine religion⁴ his inquitous and ruinous tribunate, which he can defend on no ground of human justice, then we shall have to look around for a new ritual, new mediators between ourselves and the power of heaven, and new interpreters of the divine will.⁵ But if, on the other hand, your authority and wisdom is applied to the cancelling of what the madness of villains has achieved,⁶ now in the crushing of constitutional government,⁷ now in its desertion, and now in its betrayal, then we shall have good reason to give well-deserved approbation to the prudence of our ancestors in electing to the priestly offices the men of highest distinction. But since that madman⁸ has thought that by pouring abuse upon all political courses recently advocated by me in the senate he could win some access to your ears⁹ I shall depart in my speech from a natural arrangement; and shall reply, I will not say to the speech of my infuriated opponent, for a speech is beyond his capacity,¹⁰ but to his scurrility, his practice in which has been reinforced not only by an intolerable impudence,¹¹ but also by a long-continued impunity.¹²

- Marcus Tullius Cicero in De Domo Sua 1.2-3,
his speech to the Pontiff Collegium of priests concerning his house having been given away to the goddess of Liberty by Publius Clodius Pulcher,
translated by N. H. Watts.


¹: Clodius, who took his house.
²: And then built a temple on it.
³: Clodius, again. He took his house, you know.
⁴: And then he built a temple on it.
⁵: Someone who doesn't think the gods want his house.
⁶: The stealing of his house.
⁷: If it isn't unconstitutional to go about stealing people's houses, it should be.
⁸: Still Clodius. Guy took his house.
⁹: People were starving, so Cicero had suggested they got some food. Clodius claimed this was horribly populistic of him, and figured the Senate and the Collegium of Pontiffs would agree that populists shouldn't get their houses back.
¹⁰: He sure can steal them houses, though!
¹¹: The man is reported to go about simply taking people's houses...
¹²: ...and then he just gets away with it!

Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail. Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.

- A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens.

As far as I'm concerned, the entire reason for becoming a writer is not having to get up in the morning.

- Neil Gaiman, March 1999.

This always looks inexplicably awesome.

You probably should not read this if you've not seen the Battlestar Galactica finale yet. It's pretty vague, but still.

Read more...

Really, don't ever. The amount of things that are different between the creators' combined sales-pitch to their network and sales-pitch to their fresh audience laying out premises, characters, relations and backstories and your average episode six months (or, if you're really lucky, six years) later are staggering. Sometimes, you hit something where the first episode is actually very telling (I'd say The West Wing is a very good example there), but it is the exception, not the rule. You cannot tell how a show can be by its pilot.


So it is thus dreadfully premature when I say I love Kings. It is the best pilot I've seen since Easy Money early last fall, and honestly, it's probably even better than that. The reasons? Well, let's list them.

It re-tells the story of King Saul and King David of the Old Testament, one of the truly great epics that is hidden in that treasure of a book. It has everything; war, intrigue, religion, politics, prophets, sex, scandal, divine music, great heroes and fallen Chosen Ones. This would be awesome all on its own. But Kings takes it one step further. A bold, stunningly daring step that I am still unsure if I approve of (I love period pieces), but that I'm loving nonetheless. It takes place in the modern world.

Not our modern world, but one with made-up countries and made-up rulers living in made-up cities fighting made-up wars. This is the big caveat that makes this change of venue possible, but that might also be the shows' failing. Will the average viewer be able to buy into a world that looks so similar to our own, but isn't? Time will tell.

The setting, however, is brilliant. It lets the show move all these incredible elements from the Old Testament into a modern situation, where the power of religion is matched by the power of the corporations, and where King Silas (Kings' King Saul) finds himself trapped in the middle at the same time as a young upstart named "David" is suddenly getting everybody's attention. They get to look at current, real-life issues, but do so in a context where we have people who have to wait for the king to rise before they get out of their chairs and Divine Revelations flaunted publicly by the same king of national television.

The show, thus, is extremely ambitious.

Now don't get me wrong. It isn't the strongest pilot I've ever seen. But it's a very, very, very good one. Very good one. And while you shouldn't judge a show by its pilot, I'm already all but ready to declare this my new favourite current show this spring when Battlestar Galactica finds its closure on Friday.

Oh, and by the way, I don't believe I mentioned, Kings has Ian McShane in the lead role.


Yeah, that's right. You're wasting precious time reading this when you could be watching McShane be a bloody king for a full double-episode. Why do you think I didn't mention it until now? You'd have never read all of this post if I opened with that.

Hustle is back, and so is Mickey Bricks, but Danny Blue, Stacie Monroe and Billy Bond are not. Still, while I missed them, having Mickey, Three Socks and Albert back more than make up for not seeing the three people who were the lower half of the character ladder anyway. Worse is that they're being replaced with two new guys - and you just know where this is going. A new Stacie and yet another Danny, right? Well, sort of. While Emma and Sean, the two new people, sort of fill Danny and Stacie's functions, they are very much new characters. Emma, because she's a lot more like Mickey than like any other character, and thus distinctly different from Stacie. Sean, because he's not a conman by trade unlike Bond and Blue. Still, the dynamic between the gang and Sean as the junior new guy feels overly done. I wish they'd find some new group dynamic to play at than "dazzle and tease the new guy", especially when this is the third character going through those motions now.

As for the series itself, the six episodes were quite something. The marks who recurred in the final episode were awesome, especially the angry guy, and really brought something to the show. I hope we'll see him again in series 6. The same goes for the always stellar Tim McInnerny, who anyone should know from Blackadder if nothing else, who gave us a very memorable elitist judge as the main mark in one of the episodes. Mostly, this is more of the same, but with Bricks back in the driver's seat. And let's face it, if you check out the fifth series, it is probably because more of the same is quite fine with you indeed.

It certainly is with me. Come on, BBC, pump out a sixth series as soon as possible. I'm waiting.

When I sat down to watch this eight season long show, it was because it is the show Boston Legal spun off of, and I quite enjoyed Boston Legal, even going so far as to say I loved a big chunk of it. However, I was well aware that the characters which went to the spin-off didn't even show up in this mothershow before its very last season... so I was committing to seven years' worth of televised productions before that if I was to watch my way there.

I can say this - I'm truly not regretting it.

Yet another David E. Kelley-lawyer show, The Practice is still vastly different from what anyone who has seen his Ally McBeal or Boston Legal would be expecting. The show is not quirky, silly and filled with eccentrics, but dark, gloomy, serious, and tangling with really rough moral issues where the often is no clear answers available. Even realistic, to the extent that these kind of shows are.

Because don't get me wrong - this is no The Wire filled with so much realism it is almost too much. No, there is over-the-top'ness - especially in the sheer amount of psychopaths and murderers this law firm has to deal with on a daily basis. There is also, as you get used to the show, a certain tendency to be able to predict the outcome of cases, because you're starting to smell what kind of a reveal or unlikely twist would make the most drama and conflict and moral issues out of a situation - and voila, suddenly such twists tend to happen more than the more likely outcomes. But these are minor issues, and I'm only mentioning them now right off the bat so we've got it clear - while the show in most of its individual plots is very realistic, it is in no way perfectly mundane and believable, especially not when seen as a whole.

That said, I'm talking plots. As far as characters go, I'd say this show is very, very good. Maybe even excellent. It's not that the best characters stand out like on, say, Rome or Deadwood, or that you deeply connect with or feel for them like on Angel or Veronica Mars. But it's that you believe them. They don't make as big an impression on you because they're too real, too mundane. Not boring though, and that's a vital distinction to make, they're rarely if ever boring.

What keeps the characters interesting - beyond their personalities and such, of course - is the show's Alpha and Omega-issue, the red thread of it all: the ethics of a criminal defense lawyer. Almost every one of the regular characters on this show is such an individual: one who makes his living doing his utmost to get thieves, rapists and murderers off without punishment. Why do they do this, how can they do this, is there times when they should not do this, and what does it cost them to do this? Because make no mistake, every single one of these main characters are good, decent, dependable people. People you trust.

Which is why the remaining main cast consists of their (admittedly few) friends or at least friendly colleagues in the Defense Attorney's office - their adversaries in their jobs in the courtrooms, but their equals and friends in the hallway. Ideally, anyway. Who has issues of their own, every now and then allowed to step up and give us a break from the main theme. How far does one go to get a conviction? What do you do if you think the man you're assigned to arguing murdered someone is innocent? And what is most important - protecting the victims or putting the criminals away?

These are all very interesting questions, and very compelling ones. Admittedly, they get a little old. I had to take a break from the show in the middle of season 3 because I was simply a little tired of the theme. But a month later, I watched another episode - and almost immediately found myself re-hooked, maybe more so than ever. I'm currently early in season 6, and I am still looking forward to every new episode.

If I was to compare this show to any show, I think it would be The West Wing, with The Wire as a close second. Each bring you in on a milieu that is interesting to the viewer, known but foreign at the same time, dropping the veil and letting us look at just what goes on with these people. The differences between these shows are vast - there is little of the sharp with of the Bartlet Administration in Bobby Donald's law firm, for instance - but I believe they would appeal to a lot of the same people. You're shown some people you instantly root for, and then they are thrown in situations where the right and the wrong aren't as obvious as you'd hope and expect.

The acting is good, sometimes unarguably great. The characters show growth, especially the one who starts off as the most inept and immature grows a lot as seasons progress, which is a joy to watch. The most highly profiled character at the DA's office is as interesting and compelling as the most interesting ones in the main character's law firm, which helps providing a little balance. Recurring characters, usually judges, DAs and police officers, are as a whole unusually fascinating and/or likable. The guest spots, mostly clients and victims, are usually also interesting, and sometimes downright awesome. The show's very best episodes tend to be when really awesome actors with really cool characters are guest-starring, and watching their ripple-effects with the main group.

While the nature of the show is rather episodic, trial by trial, case by case, it is very good at sewing in longer plots into the seasons (and indeed between seasons), as well as shaking things up with a multi-episode arc at uneven intervals.

All in all, if you think you could like a show that on top of what I've so far said every now and then makes me grin and even chuckle impressed at the really clever legal maneuvering that sometimes occur on screen, you should check this out. If you yawn at the mere mention of lawyers, though, it's probably not for you. Me for one loves the concept of getting to see people fence with facts, words and thoughts over highly complex issues, and watch them grow and learn with every season.

This isn't in the top ten shows I have ever watched, but it is thoroughly well done, and despite a weak beginning in the very short season 1, much more even in its quality so far than Boston Legal managed. I'm looking very much forward to the final three seasons.

Can you spell "quirky"? It seems to be Bryan Fuller's favourite. The man has recently gotten tons of attention for being brought back on the way-past-limping Heroes where he has previously contributed by among other things penning the episode Company Man in the first season - the one episode of the entire show that I'd like to own on DVD. What's maybe gotten a little less attention is what he's been doing while he's been away from Heroes - and it is, unsurprisingly, a cute and quirky little show.

There is something about Fuller's shows that makes "cute and quirky little show" seem like a suitable description on all of them. Dead Like Me - which he created and then left after quarreling with the studio - is by far the weakest one of them (due to Fuller's absence, mayhaps?) but it, too, is decidedly quirky. Thinking back on it, in fact, it occurs to me that the pilot and base concept presented in it was much quirkier than the rest of the show ever was... Fuller is definitely a writer with a fascination for the odd and unexpected. The other (perhaps slightly more well-known?) show of his was Wonderfalls, which only got one shortened season, but where Fuller at least stayed on. And so, I must say, did the quirky. I'm no big fan of Dead Like Me, but I quite enjoy Wonderfalls. (And I LOVE Company Man, the memory of it being the only reason I'm still putting up with Heroes) My expectations, thus, to his third quirky little show were as mixed as they get. And I say "little" even though it was nominated for twelve and won three Emmy Awards. Because it's just so cute, you can't think of it as anything else. If this show had gotten ten seasons, it'd still be a cute and quirky little thing.

So what was this show? Well, as this post's title has long since given away, it was called Pushing Daisies, and its cancellation is what has brought Fuller back on Heroes. The second season is still ongoing, being on a Christmas hiatus before airing its final three episodes, but the first, stumped by the writer's strike, ended this spring, and I've recently caught up on it. While shorter than it should have been, I must say the season holds up well despite the premature ending.

The show's base concept is just as odd as on the other two shows: Ned, a pie-maker and part-time assisting private investigator, has a unique talent. When he touches someone, or something, that is dead, if comes back to life. If he touches it again, it dies, for good. And if he leaves it alive for more than a minute, something else in the vicinity of approximately the same strength of life-force dies in a poof of cosmic balancing. His part-time P.I.'ing is a result of this, as the eminent Emerson Cod, private eye, discovers Ned's talent, and makes use of him to have one-minute-interviews with murder-victims - thus easily catching killers and claiming rewards. The duo becomes a trio, however, when the murder-victim turns out to be Ned's childhood sweetheart, and he doesn't manage to bring himself to put her back out before her minute is up. The cast is rounded off with Olive Snook, Ned's employee at The Pie Hole who is head over heels in love with him, but unaware of his secret powers.

Now, with the other two shows, most of the oddness ended there. Not so with Pushing Daisies. The entire shape of the show is purposefully strange: filled with bright colours, a calm, British narrator's voice with an obsession of exact numbers and times, and taking place in a world that's an odd blend of the present day and the 1950's. Two inspirations strike me as very obvious - anything by Tim Burton, and Amélie. The show is borrowing heavily from both, in homages sometimes subtle and sometimes obvious. The strange thing, I'm not a big fan of neither Burton nor the somewhat too artsy Amélie, but I really, really liked this show. The blend of Fuller's quirky humour with the larger-than-life look and feel of the show makes for a lovely little fairy-tale land that feels both real and fantastic at the same time. Think of some of the intense, powerful scenes of Jackson's The Fellowship of the Ring. Didn't those just make the fantastical seem awfully real? Pushing Daisies does just the opposite, making the real seem awfully fantastical. And I quite like it.

The characters are lovable, to a one. My personal favourite would no doubt be Mr. Cod, but every single character is amazing. The loving relationship that develops between Ned and his untouchable childhood sweetheart is possibly the sweetest romance I've ever seen depicted on screen - all the more so for their inability to ever touch each other. The cases of the week are usually quite interesting and always quite absurd. The dialogue is wonderful.

This is one of the strongest recent shows I've seen, and while it's not quite enough up my alley (no wizards, no dragons, no politics, no intrigue, and no Darth Vader!) to be a show I'll ever wholeheartedly love, if this is your thing, I can promise you that you'll do just that. And even if it's not, I cannot see how you can do anything but enjoy this colourful festivity of a TV-show. It's touching, funny, pretty, engaging and sometimes even sad. But most of all, it's a cute and quirky little thing created by Bryan Fuller.

Which is probably why it's so good.

Just listen to the fatuity of this man - this sheep, rather. Here were his words: 'Brutus, whose name I mention with all respect, called out Cicero's name while he was holding the bloodstained dagger: from which you must understand that Cicero was an accomplice.' So, just because you suspect that I suspected something you call me a criminal, yet the man who brandished a dripping dagger is mentioned by you 'with all respect'! Very well, use this imbecile language if you must; and your actions and options are even more brainless. In the end, Consul, you will have to make up your mind! You must pronounce your final judgement on the cause of the Brutuses, Cassius, Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, Gaius Trebonius, and the rest. Sleep off you hangover - breathe it out. Perhaps a torch might be administered, to sting you out of your snoring over this far from unimportant matter. Will you never understand that you must decide which description to apply to the men who did that deed: are they murderers or are they the restorers of national freedom?

Concentrate, please - just for a little. Try to make your brain work for a moment as if you were sober. I confess I am their friend - you prefer to call me their associate. And yet even I refuse to see any compromise solution. If these men are not liberators of the Roman people and saviours of the state, then even I assert that they are worse than assassins, worse than murderers. Indeed, on the assumption that the murder of one's own father is less horrible than to kill the father of one's country, even parricides are better than they are.

Well, then, you wise and thoughtful man, what to you say to this: if they are parricides, why, in the Senate and Assembly, do you refer to them with respect? You will also have to explain why you yourself proposed Marucs Brutus's exemption from the laws when he remained outside the city for more than ten days [in spite of being a city-praetor]; why, at the Games of Apollo, he received such a complimentary reception; and why he and Cassius were given provincial commands, and supernumerary questors and legates were assigned to them for the purpose. This was all your doing! So evidently you do not regard them as murderers. It follows - since no compromise is possible - that you must regard them as liberators. What is the matter? I am not embarrassing you, am I? For I doubt if you are quite competent to grasp the sort of dilemma in which this places you. Anyway, what my conclusion amounts to is this: by not regarding Brutus and the rest as criminals, you have automatically proclaimed that they deserve the most glorious rewards.

So I must re-design my speech. I shall write to these men and say that, if anyone asks whether your charge against me is true, they must offer no denials. For, if I was their accomplice and they conceal the fact, I am afraid this may discredit them; whereas if I was invited to join them and refused, this will reflect the gravest discredit on me. For heaven will bear witness that Rome - that any nation throughout the whole world - has never seen a greater act than theirs! There has never been an achievement more glorious - more greatly deserving of renown for all eternity. So if you pen me in a Trojan horse of complicity with the chief partners in that deed, I do not protest. Thank you, I say - whatever your motives. For where so outstanding an action is concerned, I account the unpopularity, which you hope to unload upon me, as nothing beside the glory.

You have driven these men away and expelled them, you boast. Yet they are blessed beyond measure. There is no place in the world too deserted and too barbarous to welcome them and delight in their presence. All people on earth, however uncivilized, are capable of understanding that life could offer no more outstanding happiness than a sight of these men. Writers will continue, for generation after generation throughout time everlasting, to immortalize the glory of their achievement.

Enrol me among such heroes, I beg of you! Though I am afraid that one thing may not be to your liking. If I had been among their number I should have freed our country not only from the autocrat but from the autocracy. For if, as you assert, I had been the author of the work, believe me, I should not have been satisfied to finish only one act. I should have completed the play!

- Marcus Tullius Cicero,
The Second Philippic Against Mark Antony,
translated by Michael Grant for Penguin Books.

For what was left of Rome, Antony, owed its final annihilation to yourself. In your home everything had a price: and a truly sordid series of deals it was. Laws you passed, laws you caused to be put through in your interests, had never even been formally proposed. You admitted this yourself. You were an augur, yet you never took the auspices. You were a consul, yet you blocked the legal right of other officials to exercise the veto. Your armed escort was shocking. You are a drink-sodden, sex-ridden wreck. Never a day passes in that ill-reputed house of yours without orgies of the most repulsive kind.

In spite of all that, I restricted myself in my speech to solemn complaints concerning the state of our nation.

[...]

Antony's action proves he is totally uncivilized. But just see how unbelievably stupid he is as well.

- Marcus Tullius Cicero,
The Second Philippic Against Mark Antony,
translated by Michael Grant for Penguin Books.