B
When critics and congressmen deplore TV violence, how come they never mention the National Geographic Explorer series? In Savage Garden, a shrew kills and devours a snake, fire ants mob and dismember a dragonfly and a bat bites off the head of a praying mantis. Host Leslie Nielsen advises viewer discretion, but who on earth takes him seriously?
This hour-long program places the Naked Gun farceur in the role of a gardener who discovers small creatures leading a dog-eat-dog existence amid his backyard plant life. The cinematography enlarges the combatants to screen-filling size, while slowing down their movements so we can keep up with the carnage. Some of the grislier action may turn sensitive stomachs, but Nielsen's narration is disarmingly funny, as clever trick shots make him appear to spy on and interact with the nonhuman cast. Besides, the show's not all violence. We also get to see shrews having sex.
Comedy Central (Sundays, 10 p.m. ET)
A-
With this funny psychiatrist returning for 13 episodes starting June 22, we look forward to a well-adjusted summer. One problem: The "Squigglevision" animation, in which line drawings sort of wiggle around the edges, gives us a headache that may require medical attention.
The series, begun in 1995, is still built around sessions with Dr. Katz (voiced by comedian Jonathan Katz) and his patients (voiced by real-life stand-ups). We recommend the new season's second episode (June 29), in which a cartoon version of Ray Romano (CBS's Everybody Loves Raymond) recounts his household horrors. But the richest humor comes from the relationship between Dr. Katz and his ne'er-do-well son Ben (H. Jon Benjamin), who enjoys unlimited use of the shrink's living-room couch at no hourly fee. In the season premiere Ben is writing his memoirs. Slowly.
PBS (Wed., June 25, 9 p.m. ET)
B+
There are no 'if onlys' in my life," says Suzanne Farrell at the end of this study of her brilliant career as a ballerina (reprised in performance clips) and her complex bond with choreographer George Balanchine. If only this Oscar-nominated 1996 documentary, having its TV premiere on Great Performances' Dance in America, gave a detailed account of her life after Balanchine's death in 1983. Hip-replacement surgery in '87, an amazing comeback in '88—a lot happened to Farrell before she stepped away from the stage in '89 to instruct a new generation of dancers in the Balanchine tradition. Unfortunately, that part of the story doesn't fit the film's focus: Farrell as Balanchine's inspiration, loved one and disciple.
But it may be unfair to judge Elusive Muse as biography. Its true subject is the mutual dependence of an extraordinary performing talent, Farrell, and an irreplaceable creative genius, Balanchine. While insisting her relationship with Balanchine (over 40 years her senior) did not include sex, Farrell (now 51) bares conflicting emotions toward the legend who both nurtured and smothered her. Reduced to a supporting role is dancer Paul Mejia, whose 1969 marriage to Farrell (they recently divorced) led to a five-year breach between the ballerina and Balanchine. Note Mejia's glistening eyes as he recalls Farrell in a Balanchine ballet. In these lives, the art's the thing.
The Learning Channel (Sat., June 28, 8 p.m. and 9 p.m. ET)
Don Quixote B; Great Expectations A
Don't dismiss this documentary series as the Cliffs Notes of cable TV. It's a stimulus for reading, not a substitute. The programs on Miguel de Cervantes's Don Quixote and Charles Dickens's Great Expectations premiere back-to-back as part of an 18-hour festival that includes repeats of works from Alice in Wonderland to Catch-22.
Narrated by Donald Sutherland, the shows blend dramatization, historical background and commentary by scholars and enthusiasts. The Great Expectations hour is superior because the interviewees—among them novelist John Irving and actor Ethan Hawke (star of a forthcoming film adaptation)—all appear passionate about the book. Although novelist Carlos Fuentes is clearly a genuine Quixotephile, ex-New York Gov. Mario Cuomo and Curtis Sliwa, founder of the crime-fighting Guardian Angels, seem more in love with their own impossible dreams.
>Ben Edlund
TICK-LISH SUBJECT
AS CARTOON SUPERHEROES GO, THE Tick is something of an anomaly. Peabrained, pompous and preening in his muscle-accentuating blue tights, he battles villains with names like Chairface and El Seed, while declaiming: "Wicked men, eat my justice!"
Such spoofery has been tickling the fancy of a cult audience since 1994, when The Tick leaped onto Fox as a Saturday morning show. Now fans can catch their Dudley Do-Wrong hero in weekday 6 p.m. (ET) reruns on cable's Comedy Central, where, says programming vice-president Michele Ganeless, "It is the top-rated acquisition for us." There's even a new book out, The Tick: Mighty Blue Justice!
That's mighty heartening news to Ben Edlund, 28, who created The Tick as a satirical comic book in 1988, and then, four years—and 12 issues—later sold Fox on the idea of an animated series. "Our plan was for it to be six shows and then be a noble failure," the cartoonist says. "Now it's 36 shows and a noble failure."
Not exactly. Yes, Fox yanked The Tick last April, but only so Edlund and cowriter Richard Liebmann-Smith could retool it as a prime-time special. First they had to smite that dastardly villain, Writer's Block. For a long time, says Edlund, who shares a Manhattan apartment with girlfriend Karen Kelly, a film editorial assistant, he and Liebmann-Smith "were staring at each other with nothing to say." Now the project is taking shape—slowly. Sighs the artist: "I've been given too many consecutive days off."
- Contributors:
- Lan N. Nguyen.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
