HORROR
You're instantly sucked into this new horror series by an opening vignette, set 21 years ago, that has the unreal yet unshakable vividness of a nightmare you and a therapist could spend years explicating. The creep-out oomph of the scene—a shadowy intruder has invaded a baby's bedroom—culminates in this image: The child's mother, victim of a poltergeist (or some force of evil with greater suction than a Dyson vacuum cleaner), is pinned up against the ceiling. Then she's consumed by fire, an almost lavish sea of flames that's unsettlingly apocalypto-religious.
Supernatural is about the poor woman's two grown-up sons (Gilmore Girls' Jared Padalecki and Smallville's Jensen Ackles) and their adventures as they track down other unpitying intruders from beyond or below. (Their father, as of the Sept. 13 opener, has gone missing on the trail of another investigation. Same career path, though.) The series' grim tone and overall look of a grimy world in perpetual need of dusting or wiping is a long way from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and closer to Japanese movies like The Grudge. Horror seeps over life like a toxic fog. And never lifts. The premiere has some very nice special effects, flickering and elusive, involving a murderous ghost woman who wanders along a road skimpily dressed in white, as if she were doomed to never find the casting call for a Tim Burton film. But the real spell is cast by that woman on the ceiling, and the possibility that her fate will continue to haunt her sons' lives.
FOX (Thursdays, 9 p.m. ET)
DRAMA
So, when do we learn the identity of the dead person? By the end of the first hour of this new series, a conceptually striking drama with much time flashing back and forth, we know (1) a funeral is taking place in the present day, following the violent death of one member of a group of childhood friends; (2) back in 1986, when the clique graduated from high school, one boy unjustly wound up in prison; and (3) we're now going to inch forward from '86, year by year, watching them mature and presumably become embittered and hostile, because that s what adults do. But as the episode ends, with the death under investigation, a detective (Six Feet Under's Mathew St. Patrick) never lets us know who's been killed. He talks only of "the deceased." It's slightly annoying. Imagine Twin Peaks' Laura Palmer being referred to as "she who is wrapped in plastic."
Otherwise, the show could be compelling, especially if the cast pulls off two decades' worth of aging. In the opener, the juxtaposition of young Carla (Chyler Leigh), the awkwardly pretty daughter of the town pharmacist, and the grown-up version, hard and slickly styled, is intriguing.
Cable channel (check your local listings)
NEWS
If Bill Clinton were to start a network, programming would alternate between policy summits and Sex and the City repeats. But Al Gore was the mind who helped launch Current TV, a new 24-hour cable outlet. It's what one would expect from him: innovative and smart, in a rather earnest way. It's like TRL for wonks.
Current TV is envisioned as an interactive, digital-age channel. One of its stable of cheerful but studiously un-emphatic young hosts refers to it as "a tapas bar of ideas." The programming consists almost entirely of short informational segments shot by Current staff and—this is the big selling point—viewers. Anyone with digital equipment can submit a segment through the network's Web site, which like the channel is graphically attractive—cool, crisp, unfancy. There should be a Current TV jeans line.
Segments so far include everything from the Gaza Strip to the phenomenon of the twentysomething "quarterlife crisis." None of 'em killers, but all have a certain rough integrity and are worth a few minutes attention.
ABC Family (Mondays, 9 p.m. ET)
DRAMA
This family-oriented series, halfway through its eight-episode run, feels like One Day at a Time with the pained social-class consciousness of an old Theodore Dreiser novel filtered in. A newly single mother (Daphne Zuniga, her face framed by impeccable hair) relocates from New Mexico to Manhattan with teenage daughters Karen (Torrey DeVitto) and Sophie (Sarah Foret). The younger one, Sophie, starts her semester at an upper-crust school with windows of stained glass and classmates whose parents claim to own the Chrysler and Empire State buildings. Foret has the unforced sweetness of Valerie Bertinelli, and the show deals with the family's frustrations and humiliations sensitively. (It was harsh when those girls at school handed Sophie an envelope stuffed with cash, like she was poor!) It's also a bit dull. Viewers may find themselves wishing for those cute Gilmore Girls, managing life's challenges with arch, twerpy aplomb.
Hallmark Channel (Sept. 10, 9 p.m. ET)
A real estate developer lets his excavation crew's mountainside blasting get out of control, and an avalanche of debris buries another development below. Would it surprise you that there's a pregnant woman down there, surrounded by the rubble of a baby shower and ready to give birth?
The production looks cheap, like The Poseidon Adventure played out in bulldozed dirt. The script has one line of riveting awfulness: A firefighter (Vincent Spano), trapped with his estranged teenage son, uses up valuable oxygen trying to reconnect. He reminds the boy of sports events and seafood they once shared. "Hockey's for maniacs," says the son, shooting him down. "Chowder tastes like snot." Brat Camp for you, buddy boy!
BBC America (Sundays, 9 p.m. ET)
Jackie Pascoe, an emotionally frayed blonde of a certain age whose voice constantly crackles in distress, comes barging in on celebrity daughter-in-law Chardonnay's latest at-home photo session with the press, this one to show off (or exploit) her new baby boy. Jackie bluntly brings to the company's attention a pressing, unpleasant fact: a woman is floating facedown in Chardonnay and hubby Kyle's swimming pool.
So begins the second season of BBC America's British series about pro soccer stars and their wives, all of them foundering in the gaudy-tacky malaise that has come with fame and fortune. As with any prime-time soap, there's the pleasure of keeping up with the plot. (Chardonnay's baby is really Jackie's, the result of her indiscretion with team captain Jason.) But what gives Wives its special verve—its coarse joy—is the animal vitality of its characters. Shopping, bed-hopping, drinking or just kicking each other on the field, they bite into every pursuit with mindless appetite. No one seems to want to be happy so much as sated.
The acting is appropriately hot-blooded and hotter tempered. And the fashions, intentionally or not, are eye-catchingly deplorable. Kyle at one point goes to dinner wearing a blue-on-blue ensemble that looks like Dr. Seuss menswear.
The O.C. (FOX, Sept. 8, 8 p.m. ET) The start of the third season: Does Kirsten get out of rehab? Will Trey be okay after the shooting?
Go, Diego, Go! (Nickelodeon, Sept. 6, 8 p.m. ET) Dora the Explorer discovers franchising. This cartoon stars her cousin, a boy who loves animals.
The Closer (TNT, Sept. 5, 9 p.m. ET) Season finale of the cop series, with Kyra Sedgwick giving one of TV's freshest performances as an L.A. detective with a strong Southern drawl.
Fashion Rocks (CBS, Sept. 9, 9 p.m. ET) More to the point, it cleans up good. Mark McGrath and Poppy Montgomery host a night of singers who know style: Gwen Stefani, Joss Stone and more.
Precinct Hollywood (AMC, Sept. 5, 10 p.m. ET)
From Al Pacino to Denzel Washington—a documentary that looks at 30 years of hard-boiled guys.
ROSEANNE: THE COMPLETE FIRST SEASON (4 discs, $39.98) Series:
"What did I tell you about killing your brother in the living room?" Before she screeched the National Anthem, Roseanne Barr was deftly delivering sarcastic jibes like that one as the savvy matriarch of a blue-collar family in this breakthrough 1988-97 sitcom. Extras: Judging by her perfunctory—and rosy—reminiscences, Barr has run out of sass. TV hubby John Goodman has even less to say.
CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM: THE COMPLETE FOURTH REASON (2 discs, $39.98) Series:
Seinfeld creator Larry David hilariously continues to puncture political correctness, whether it's arranging a blind date for a blind friend or introducing a Holocaust survivor to a Survivor contestant. These 2004 episodes mostly have Larry rehearsing as Max Bialystock in Mel Brooks's The Producers and alienating his costars (first Ben Stiller, then David Schwimmer). No extras, but a generous sampling of the Broadway musical.
MXC
1. Because it's a reality contest à la Iron Chef but with more giddy absurdity. The producers of Spike TV's Most Extreme Elimination Challenge stumbled upon footage from a Japanese game show called Takeshi's Castle and dubbed over it with out-of-context banter and outrageous sound effects. Even though you don't know why a lady in a cow costume is running across the tops of giant foam dominoes, you'll cheer her on.
2. Because the two hosts (in samurai garb) have been dubbed to sound like announcers who spout the sort-of buddy-buddy commentary once relegated to ESPN's SportsCenter. "It's time for my most painful eliminations of the day!"
3. Because watching contestants leap from a pink surfboard over plastic beach toys and onto grassy platforms is supremely gratifying. Unlike American reality shows where strategy and money serve as motivators, MXC salutes the spirit of reckless abandon and fun.
- Contributors:
- Tom Gliatto,
- Mike Lipton,
- Cynthia Wang.
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!
