Review: No Offence, or Crime TV at Its Best

 

By Claire Booth

No, I didn’t spell offence wrong. No Offence is a British television series streaming on Acorn TV. Airing originally on Britain’s Channel 4, it follows a squad from the Manchester police department as they solve a case per episode while also tracking bigger conspiracies throughout season-long story arcs.

That description makes it sound ordinary. It’s not. It takes familiar cop-show tropes, turns them up to 11, and then gleefully demolishes them with a sledgehammer.

You all know me by now, and you know what I tend to like. And I’ll admit, this show hit all my sweet spots. Dry humor. Superb long-term plotlines. Fully realized characters. Female leads. Multiple female leads. Female leads who are written to be sexy and nerdy and bawdy and overweight and vulgar and sensitive, sometimes all at once. I can’t think of a single American show with that—pardon my male reference—with that kind of balls.  

Look at that photo at the top of the page. Those are the lead characters. In a cop show. See a man anywhere? I know, there are definitely shows with female detectives. But they usually have a male boss. Or male lawyers backing them up. This has Detective Inspector Viv Deering (Joanna Scanlan, who needs to be in every show everywhere forevermore) and her two female seconds-in-command. In the second and third seasons, even Viv’s bosses are women.

The show aired from 2015-2018. It was the creation of Paul Abbott, who’s created multiple crime and family dramas, including the original Shameless, from which the American Shameless with William H. Macy was adapted. He said in 2019 he was mulling ideas for a fourth season, but later word came out that no more episodes would be made.

While I sit here and hope he reconsiders, you should start watching immediately. You can find it on Acorn, or on PlutoTV. 

 

Do We Have Too Much Stuff?

by

Scott D. Parker

Note: this post uses television as an example, but the same could be said of books, movies, comics, and music.

Most Saturday mornings, I go back in time.

Saturday is the day the rest of the family sleeps in. I do, too, considering my weekday mornings I wake around 5:15 am to write. But on Saturdays, I still wake up at the latest by 7:30. The house is quiet, the coffee's made, and the dogs are fed. I run over to my favorite do-nut shop, Shipley's, a Houston institution I've known all my life, pick up a plain glaze and a cherry filled, and return home to watch Saturday morning cartoons.

Now, it's not always cartoons. I watched WandaVision on Saturday mornings. Ditto for Star Trek: Picard and The Mandalorian. Mostly it's because I have the house to myself but also it's just kind of fun to have that Saturday morning vibe like most of us did back in the day when that was the one day of the week with programming targeted directly at kids.

Another thing that's really helped this vibe is MeTV's broadcast of Saturday morning cartoons. For three hours, they show Popeye cartoons (I'm asleep for that), Tom and Jerry/MGM cartoons (I get half of that because of my wake-up time), and a Looney Tunes block. For the Looney Tunes, they even run the opener from the 1970s, a nice reminder of childhood you don't get when these shows are streamed or on DVD.

For the past few weeks, after that week's WandaVision episode, I've added in an episode from the 1977 New Adventures of Batman. This is the Filmation show featuring the return of Adam West and Burt Ward to the roles they made famous in the 1966 TV show. And yeah, this is the series with Bat-Mite. I have the entire run on DVD.  

This being the 21st Century, historical background for this show is only an Internet search away. Turns out only 16 episodes were made. They were first broadcast from 12 February to 28 May 1977. I remember being very excited about this show. I'd watch every Saturday morning with, you guessed it, Shipley's do-nuts.

The key fact of this series is the number of episodes. Sixteen. But this series ran in some combination until 1981. That's six years of reruns. Six years of wondering which episode would air and, over time, memorizing the events of each episode. Then again, when I first bought the DVD a few years ago and watched the series for the first time in thirty something years, I didn't remember much of it.

By the time Batman: The Animated Series debuted in 1992, there were a couple dozens episodes per season and, while there were some reruns, they were fewer because there were so many episodes. The likelihood of coming across any given episode was much smaller than the 1977 series. Ditto for The Simpsons, Seinfeld, and Friends (although Friends almost gets a pass on this because the show is now broadcast in reruns on multiple channels and you can ingest many more episodes on any given week).

Now our television habits have evolved to streaming services. And boy are there a lot of them. Within most streaming services are smaller niches. Just Brady Bunch or just Perry Mason or just CSI shows. For example, HBO Max has a DC Comics section where you can watch The Animated Series, Batman Beyond, and any number of DC-related films. It's an embarrassment of riches considering that which we had back in the day. In fact, you could mainline any one of these series and watch little else.

But there is so much stuff to watch.

We are not constrained by the sixteen episodes the network broadcast over and over again. If we wanted to watch Batman on TV back then, your options were few. If you want to watch Batman on TV in 2021, you could fill up a few weeks in a row you could fill up watching only Batman. Or Marvel. Or any number of the things we dreamed about when we were kids.

We live in a Golden Age of Television. The content we have is so broad, rich, and with depth. But there is a lot of it. A lot. It's difficult to keep up. I might even go so far as to say almost impossible given how we live our lives nowadays: work, school, family obligations, and everything else. If you're like me and you chat about TV with friends and family, how many times do you arrive at a show you both have watched?

Now, you might think that I'm just a Gen Xer complaining about modern life. I'm not. I'm happy to have all the choices available to us. It's fantastic and there's always something to watch.

But how many of us dig deep into a series like we used to?

Yes, there are some like WandaVision or The Mandalorian or Sherlock or Game of Thrones which get the deep dive. There's probably more I don't watch that have devoted fans that pore over every detail of a show. But I think the casual awareness of shows has dwindled with the rise of cable TV and streaming. With so many choices begging for our attention comes a dilution of common content. Back the day, we all were more or less aware of the exploits of Happy Days, The Simpson, Friends, Grey's Anatomy, Modern Family, and CSI. Now? Not so much, especially if the hot show is on a streaming service you don't buy.

Or maybe all of this is on me. Maybe I'm the oddball now. Maybe I'm the guy who doesn't watch and re-watch the same content all the time because there's always something more to watch. Maybe I've become my parents.

Do you reach an age in which the obsession over a property just wanes or never materializes like it used to? Perhaps, but I think it also boils down to time.

When we were kids, there was loads of time to fill and not a lot of content with which to fill it. Now, kids probably have a similar amount of time to kill but so many more choices. As for us adults, our time has now dwindled to the point where, for me, I'm down to an hour of non-news TV a day on weekdays. And when all my favorite shows are an hour--New Amsterdam, Resident Alien, Prodigal Son, Clarice, Superman and Lois--I'm down to a show a night. So when I'm actually consuming only one show a night, it's difficult to find the time to re-watch a show. Thus, I find myself in a steady stream of one-time viewings. Hard to remember lots of details that way.

I guess that's the main problem. I just don't have the time.

Unless I had a time machine.

Lupin—c'est fantastique

By Claire Booth

Netflix has been upping its global game lately, and I don't mean by exporting American entertainment to more and more places. I mean by exposing Americans to more and more international content. Hooray! 

I'm here today to enthusiastically endorse Lupin, the French limited series thriller that pays homage to the great French books of that name about a “gentleman thief.” It’s also suave, sexy, fun, and paced as well as anything I’ve seen in a long time. Sure, it sometimes stretches the bounds of plausibility, but what heist movie or book doesn’t?

Omar Sy stars as Assane Diop, whose father, a Senegalese immigrant, gets a job as chauffeur for a wealthy businessman. Things end badly, and Assane grows up vowing revenge. Not guns-blazing revenge; that’s not his style. Instead, he molds himself into the hero of his favorite childhood books, Arséne Lupin. (Tip for those who, like me, didn’t take French in high school: it’s pronounced Lou-PAN.) Lupin was the refined burglar and master of disguise who could solve any problem and steal any object.

Sy has been some English-language movies, including Jurassic World, and X-Men: Days of Future Past. The magnetic French native is truly at home here on the streets of Paris, whether it’s outside a tenement or in the courtyard of the Louvre. And I love that he’s of African descent. The casting of Sy adds a whole other rich layer to the show, with the problems of class and race that exist in French society. Plus, he’s perfect for the part – meticulous yet mischevious, and with a cat-burglar grace that not a lot of tall men can pull off.

The Arséne Lupin series by Maurice Leblanc, featuring the exploits of the “gentleman thief,” began in 1905 and lasted for 23 books. In other words, there’s plenty of material to inspire Sy’s character for many seasons to come. And based on Netflix’s assertion that more than 70 million people worldwide have at least started to stream an episode (which is more than even other hits like Tiger King or The Umbrella Academy), it seems likely the company will keep it going.

In fact, the second part of Season One (i.e. the other five-episodes of the ten that have been shot), will be released on Netflix sometime this summer, the streaming service said last week. Don’t wait that long to start. Watch it now. It’s perfect how’s-he-going-to-pull-it-off escapism for the dreary days of winter.

And don’t make the mistake I did. I just clicked play and it came through dubbed into English. Horrible. Bad voice acting in addition to the usual awfulness of the lips you see moving not matching the words you’re hearing. Switch to the French with subtitles. It’s less distracting that way, I swear. And more – how should I say? – l’original est magnifique.

 

The Haunting of Hill House - The Best Thing on Netflix?

By
Scott D. Parker

I never saw this show coming and it totally blew me away.

We live in a golden age of content, especially television content. There is just so much that we can’t realistically be expected to watch it all. Even as an avid Netflix consumer, I didn’t know the re-imagined version of “The Haunting of Hill House” was even a thing. My wife, did, however. She read about it in ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY and then it popped up on her Netflix account. We had just finished Amazon’s brilliant "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel," it was October, so why not? It was a short, 10-episode series--movie, really--so it wouldn’t take up too much time if it proved to be bad or if I proved indifferent.

All I needed was the first episode.

Specifically, the last minute or so. Well, no, let me backtrack: the steller cast, the adept direction, and the fantastic writing of the first episode got me to swallow the hook. The last couple of minutes set the hook. “I’m in,” were the words out of my mouth as soon as the credits rolled. Truth be told, I was already in.

The Haunting of Hill House, as re-imagined by director/writer Mike Flanagan, tells the story of the Crain family in two different phases of their lives. In flashbacks, we see Hugh Crain (Henry Thomas; yes, that Henry Thomas) and his wife, Olivia (Carla Gugino) move into Hill House with their five children. In the present day, the children are now adults, Hugh is now played by Timothy Hutton, and Olivia isn’t around. The central mystery of the show is what happened to her and to the family at Hill House.

Taking his cue from any number of modern examples of non-linear storytelling, director Flanagan expertly weaves in and out of both times, revealing just enough here while intentionally not showing you something there. I knew what he was doing, and I didn’t care. I became so enthralled in the story and the way it was presented that I came close to the desire to binge it all. The closest we got was two separate days of two episodes each. Most of the time, however, it was an episode per day. But the beauty of watching the show in this manner was the ability to mull over the story and the characters.

And mull it over I did. Numerous nights and even throughout the days, snippets of the show would float back into my head. My wife and I discussed various aspects of the show, and I even played the age-old game of trying to guess what was going to happen next.  Thankfully, I was wrong on nearly everything except one crucial aspect. And, no, I can’t tell you what it was because it is fundamental to the story. (see below)

Billed as a horror show, it lives up to that reputation. Yes, there are jump scares. Of course there are jump scares. But, for me, Hill House was less a horror show than a supernatural suspense, eerie type show. There were some moments in the show that I was glad I was watching in the day time. And most of those are quiet moments you didn’t see coming.

Flanagan--whose work I don’t know--did a marvelous job at directing and pacing. I’m no film geek, but even I realized some of the tricks he used to great effect. One was the just-out-of-range blurring of a background character. He did this often, and it really worked well. Camera movement was pitch perfect. Probably the thing getting the most buzz is episode 6, “Two Storms.” The story content is stellar and pivotal to the series, but the direction is what will earn this episode award nominations. Even as we watched it, we could tell it was shot in multiple long-takes, with the camera moving this way and that, revealing a nothingness behind one character in one second only to reveal something behind the very same character when the camera pulls around again. Excellent work.

An excellent director with an excellent story can only get you so far. If you don’t have excellent actors, you get something sub par. The casing director of Hill House needs an award today. Let’s start with Henry Thomas. Seeing as I didn’t look up or know anything about this show ahead of time, it was during the first episode I realized he was the “E.T.” kid. I haven’t followed his career at all, but man did he deliver in the various flashback scenes. The chemistry Thomas has with Gugino and the five child actors is so good, you’d think they were a real family. Speaking of Gugino, she had the difficult task of conveying Olivia as a loving mother and wife, but as someone also haunted by things not often visible, sometimes even in the same scene. When she was comforting a scared child, she was honest and sincere. When she was facing something else, she was just as scared as you were in that moment.

In any movie starring kids, you might get less-than-good actors who deliver less-than-good performances. The five children--especially Julian Hilliard (young Luke) and McKenna Grace (as young Theodora)--gelled on screen as if they were truly siblings. They really inhabited their characters well. Not to be outdone, the adult actors playing these characters also knocked it out of the park. There was one scene in particular where Theodora--who has a special talent--does the thing she does to use her talent (like how I’m obfuscating?). With modern technology and CGI chicanery, Flanagan could have conjured up anything for a scary moment. Instead, he lets Kate Siegel’s face be centered on the screen. When she “sees” what she sees, Siegel screams a scream so bloodcurdling your mind is the thing conjuring up the horror. So well done.

I questioned why Flanagan didn’t just put Henry Thomas in older make up but rather cast Timothy Hutton as the older Hugh. Visually, the two actors are not too far off, and stylistically, they created mannerisms for Hugh each actor mimicked. But in keeping with the obvious recasting of the kids, the choice for a second actor for Hugh was a good one. I’m not too familiar with Hutton’s work, but as the series propelled itself to the end, his gravitas carried his scenes and I was ultimately satisfied with both actors playing the same part.

Oh, one other thing about the cast: each one of them get what I call a “Robert Shaw in Jaws” moment. You know the scene in Jaws where Shaw, as Quint, tells the story of the U.S.S. Indianapolis and the sharks. Best dang scene in the movie. Well, the adults get their version, but none was better than of Robert Longstreet as caretaker Horace Dudley. When he says what he says in the manner he does it, Flanagan keeps the camera on Longstreet. The actor delivers that story with so much depth and emotion that I immediately called it a “Robert Shaw in Jaws” moment. Incredible that a piece of a show like this by a side character could be so compelling.

I could go on and on, but I'm going to halt here. I’ve seen some great stuff this year, but The Haunting of Hill House is easily in the Top 3, maybe even Top 2. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

P.S., I’m stopping the main review here. If you want to avoid spoilers, stop and watch then return. For those of y’all who want to continue, you’ve been warned.

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The one aspect of the show I did see coming was Episode 5, “The Bent Neck Lady.” At that moment, I nearly thought the secret of the house was an alternate dimension.

What I didn’t see coming was the ending.

Holy moley. Who in the world saw it coming? Who in the world would have predicted the ending of a showed billed as a horror show could have such a genuinely emotional ending? I don’t know about y’all, but I was bawling my eyes out when Hugh--first as Hutton then as Thomas--talked to Steve and explained the situation. He told his son why and how the house needed to be saved. And then the instant transition from Hutton to Thomas? Lost it. My wife did, too. Maybe it’s my age, maybe I’m just so emotional about family, but The Haunting of Hill House delivered not only genuine scares, creeps, and thrills, but also a deep, heartfelt emotionally resonant ending. I couldn’t be happier about it.

Do Writers Even Read Anymore?

By David Nemeth

A few months ago, J. David Osborne, writer and publisher of Broken River Books, posted a photograph of a dog side-eyeing the viewer. Osborne wrote, “When writers only seem to talk about all the TV they’ve watching”. How true. My social media feeds are filled news and views about the latest premium cable series or any of the numerous Netflix series and movies. And things do get heated from time to time. We all lost loved ones during the great Baby Driver Facebook War this summer.

I’m not one of those TV haters. I’m probably as guilty if not more so than some of you. The comfort of grabbing the remote and tuning out is far too easy compared to the physical and mental difficulties of opening of a book. Take a look at your Netflix history. If it is anything like mine and you’ll probably be disgusted. My history had some good shows but there were too many hours spent watching TV from Parks and Recreation to Rectify, from Friends to Shameless, and from The Handmaid’s Tale to New Girl. As I said, I’m as guilty as you are.

I know that reading is a habit thing for me. I get into a groove and I’m able to knock out books as well as reviews, sometimes up to four a week. But when life decides to significantly disrupt my daily routine, it may take weeks if not months to get back into my reading form.

I wondered if there was a trick or two that might help, so I went over to watch some TED Talks because that’s where all problems are solved in 15 minutes or less. But the first thing time management guru Laura Vanderkam said was that there are no tricks to beat time. This was disappointing news.

In her 2016 TED Talk, Vanderkam tells the story of a successful person whose water heater breaks and she ends up spending seven hours in one week working through this issue. Tragic, I know. Vanderkam recommends that we treat all “our priorities as the equivalent of that broken water heater” by focusing on our “three-category priority list: career, relationships, self.” Have I spent the 15 minutes to do this yet? Hell no, remember I was looking for tricks, not actual work. But I got the point, the time is there if I want to use it.

Most, if not all of us, do have time to read. It’s a choice we make not to read. The glowing TV eye is all too powerful, but maybe tonight I’ll just open up a goddamn book and read. But first I have some things to watch that y’all been recommending: Ozark, Mindhunter, The Deuce, Narcos, and Stranger Things 2.

On My First Binge Watching Excursion: Longmire

by
Scott D Parker

I caught up to the 21st century this month when I ordered Netflix. Being a person who is satisfied with broadcast TV and the offerings of cable, I never felt the urge or the need to order Netflix. House of Cards is available on DVD so that was not enough to get me to join. The first chink in my armor was the debut of the series Daredevil. But I didn't jump. I figured it would land on DVD soon enough. Whatever it was that got me to order Netflix had to be something very, very special.

That turned out to be Longmire.

When the show debuted on A&E three years ago, I absolutely fell in love with it. The setting in the contemporary West enabled the show to straddle both modern crime stories with huge chunks of things you normally found in Westerns: tough sheriffs, ambitious deputies, Native Americans, conflict between Native Americans and the white man, Winchester rifles, and more. The cinematography of the show hearkened back to John Ford Westerns. The writing was stellar. One could almost go to writing school simply by studying the first three seasons of Longmire.

And then there was the acting. Robert Taylor, as Sheriff Walt Longmire, may be Australian, but I will forever see him as the rugged, straightforward speaking Sheriff of apps Absaroka County, Wyoming. There have been few actors on screen who look better in a cowboy hat than Robert Taylor.

I've never really been a huge fan of Katie Sackhoff, but her portrayal of Deputy Vic Moretti is quite good. Bailey Chase as Deputy Branch Connally possesses the type a rugged good looks and deep inner conflict entire series are based around. Adam Bartley's Deputy Ferguson, a.k.a. the Ferg, has always suffered from the funny costar syndrome in the first three seasons but he’s coming into his own now in Season 4. Lou Diamond Phillips gets the award for "actor I already knew who blew me away." His portrayal of Henry Standing Bear is stellar, and it only gets better and seasons four.

I'm not giving anything away to say that season three ended on a tremendous cliffhanger. Within moments after we faded to black at the end of season three, my wife asked me “Do you think they'll renew it?" I scoffed. "With AN ending like that, A&E has to renew it."

I was wrong.

When fans started petitioning Netflix to pick up Longmire, I had seen so few successful campaigns that I just chalked up Longmire as a fantastic series where a loyal fanbase adored it, but was cancelled too soon. I’m looking at you Firefly. When Netflix said yes, I was ecstatic. Not only would I be able to see season four of Longmire, now had a good excuse to order Netflix.

So now we come to the heart of this piece. Unlike Longmire's airing on A&E, Netflix made available all 10 episodes on one day. This is a new thing for me. I enjoy network television. I enjoy waiting a week between episodes. I enjoy the season lasting weeks not days (or even hours). Call me old-fashioned, I don't care. That's just the way I'm used to, and that’s, frankly, the way I like it. When watching LOST back in the day, it was great having six extra days to think about what you saw, talk about it over the water cooler, read what other people thought about what they saw, and then raise expectations for the next week’s episode.

I convinced the wife not to binge all episodes in one day. She’s a veteran of binge watching, having blown through Dexter, Game of Thrones, Six Feet Under, and True Blood. As a result, we have been watching Longmire for one episode a night. I have to admit, it’s pretty cool to have everything right there at your fingertips just waiting to go.

So what is it like binging on my first series? Actually pretty fun. I suppose I could extend the viewing to one day per week, but with the new network shows coming up, it'll be nice to have completed Longmire before those shows begin.

I've not reached the end of season four but I'm already hoping there will be a season five. This cast, these writers (season four may be the best written season), these cinematographers are just heads and shoulders above so much of what you see on network television. If you've never watched Longmire, I cannot recommend this series highly enough.

Be sure to come back here on Monday when Brian gives his thoughts on the actual stories and episodes of Longmire season four. Also, David Cranmer is posting his thoughts per episode over at Criminal Element.

For all of you folks out there who have already learned about binge watching and find it your preferred way to consume seasons of your favorite series, I'll leave you with a quote my wife told me at the end of watching episode one when I commented that I’d almost prefer to wait a week before watching episode two: “Get over yourself!"

Quality or Quantity: Which is More Important

by
Scott D. Parker

I saw this image on Facebook yesterday and it gave me quite the chuckle. I am, like a millions others, an avid Downton Abbey fan and have been since the first episode. The quality of the writing and acting to say nothing of the sumptuous costumes and sets sweep me away to a time I never knew. And the characters! Mr. Bates. Lady Mary. Carson the butler. In the hours I watch these two seasons I am lost to the modern world. Nary a telephone call is received in my house when Downton Abbey airs. Be ye warned.

When I mention "seasons," we Americans typical think about 20 to 24 hour long episodes. In fact, when one of my favorite shows gets an order for an extra episode or two, I count myself lucky. From September to May, I can count on nearly nine months of new episodes that make an American season of television. Naturally, not every episode is great, but you get a steady dose of your favorite characters each and every week. And, when sweeps months break, you get the "special episodes" which are often very good.

Not so with the British or, at least, the British material I see on this side of the ocean. Be it Prime Suspect, Foyle's War, or Downton Abbey, the British version of a season is vastly different. Foyle's War typically was three to five 90-minute episodes, movies really. Same for Prime Suspect. I'm not sure how Downton Abbey was broadcast in England, but here in America, PBS showed the second season over six Sundays, with a couple of evenings showing two hours to the usual one. Where the typical season of CSI: Miami lasts from September to May, we Downton Abbey fans had to content ourselves with a few glorious weeks in the winter of 2012. But oh the quality of the shows!

I would love to profess my love of quality over quantity, but I have to admit that I like both. And it all depends on the show. For something like Castle, CSI: Miami, Grimm, or Body of Proof, I want my morsel each and every week. I like knowing that, for an hour on one of these nights, I can sit back and enjoy some good television. But every now and then, I'll easily take fewer episodes of a great show like Downton Abbey because everything else about the show makes up for it. (Truth be told, I'd love to see what it's like to have 24 episodes of Downton just to see if its specialness would be diminished.)

Which way is do you prefer? Do you like the American way of a season (24 episodes, delivered weekly, with sometimes varying quality) or the British method (fewer episodes, greater quality)?

Let me introduce myself

by

Scott D. Parker

Introducing new characters into established universes is always tricky. Three television shows I watch performed this trick this week, mostly with good results.

Castle

My favorite show on TV (supplanting CSI: Miami, a close second) had two issues to tackle: the injury of a major character and the introduction of a new one. In the closing moments of last season, Detective Kate Beckett was shot by a sniper. This was a day or so after her commanding officer, Captain Roy Montgomery, sacrificed his life to save hers and the conspiracy of which he was a part. Beckett lived, of course, and, by the time she returned to the squad room, Montgomery’s replacement was in place. Montgomery’s chair is now occupied by Victoria Gates, AKA “Iron Gates,” formerly of Internal Affairs.

In a show like Castle, there is the comfort of conformity. It’s, frankly, one of the more appealing things about the show. You pretty much know what you’re going to get each week: twisty mystery, fun banter between Castle and Beckett, a cast that is greater than the sum of its parts, and generally a good time. Real world aficionados point out that Castle would have been kicked out of the station as soon as his ride along time was done, no matter that he knows the mayor. You could make an argument that the show got just a little too comfortable.

Enter Victoria Gates, AKA “Iron Gates,” late of Internal Affairs, played by Penny Johnson Jerald. If I learned one thing from her stint as Sherry Palmer on “24,” it’s that she can play the hard-ass with the best of’em. Man, she was good in that show. Like any good villain, you loved to hate her. As soon as the writers bumped off Captain Montgomery, you knew that they next captain was going to be different and, likely, more of a stickler. It’s what writers do: create conflict. Now, the entire squad room has some conflict. Some fans don’t like it because it moves them out of their comfort zone. I think she’ll be a good addition to an already stellar show.

CSI

I gave up on CSI last year. As a devoted fan of CSI: Miami, the original naturally lost much of what made it special when William Peterson left. Lawrence Fishburne was a good replacement, but his character’s backstory—while interesting—started to darken an already dark show. CSI: Miami knows where it’s bread-and-butter is: scantily clad pretty people and lots of them. CSI owes its popularity to gruesomeness. As the years piled on, the gore piled on also. The storylines last year just got too dark and, with other options on Thursdays, I stopped watching.

Enter D.B. Russell played by Ted Danson. Yes, Sam is now a cop. Where I greeted Penny Jerald’s casting in Castle with a knowing nod, Danson’s casting was one of curiosity and not a little skepticism. How in the world would he fit into this show that, last I saw it, was pretty darn bleak. Answer: he brings a certain amount of light to the show.

Russell is a family man, constantly on the phone with his wife in the season premiere. He has a funny quirkiness about him, asking about farmer’s markets and things decidedly non-police like. TV cops can sometimes not have much of a personal life. Russell apparently does. But character traits are one thing. What would it be like to have Danson occupying the character himself? All skepticism vanished when CBS released a short promo video ahead of Wednesday’s premiere. It was Danson’s Russell trying to get a kid to open up about a shooting/murder he, the boy, witnessed. Like David Caruso in his first time as Horatio Caine back in 2002 in a similar situation, Danson’s chemistry instantly grabbed me. What was curiosity was now necessary. I was going to watch CSI again. And Russell has already shaken up that lab room, too, but in a much more nuanced way.

Harry’s Law

First things first: I was a huge fan of Boston Legal. I loved the over-the-topness of William Shatner, the passion of James Spader, and the quirkiness of the rest of David Kelly’s cast (Really, does he know any different?). So, when Harry’s Law bowed last spring, it was a lock for me to try it out. Kathy Bates was there to utter Kelly’s brilliant prose, and the supporting cast—including Nate Corddry (Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip), Christopher McDonald as Denny Crane Tommy Jefferson, and Paul McCrane as the DA—was fantastic.

Enter…a bunch of people. Harry’s law firm went from two lawyers, a secretary, and a law student (season 1) to, well, “Boston Legal.” Now, Harry has moved into a huge loft with lots of open space, her adversary/friend, Jefferson, is there, as is a new lady lawyer and Mark Valley playing Brad Chase Oliver Richard. I’m used to the way Kelly writes and his directors direct and his camera folk do their thing. And I never tire of seeing good actors speak Kelly’s lines. But I kinda liked the smaller version from Season 1. In this case, Kelly’s partially done with Harry’s Law the thing that dooms some movie sequels: just take what was good and double it. I’ll still watch, but some of the charm is gone with all these new characters.

Are there shows y’all watch that have introduced characters in a good or bad way? Do the new conflicts make you like the show more or turn you away?

Song of the Week: Gavin DeGraw’s “Not Over You” – Boy, this song just struck me immediately. Melodic (a sometime rare thing nowadays) and catchy.

Tweet of the Week: The paradox of modern superhero comics: Stories created for children now aimed at cynical adults. Any wonder there's an identity crisis?

--- A. Lee Martinez (SF author)

As much as I’m enjoying DC Comics New 52 titles—this week’s favorites so far as Batman and Birds of Prey—there’s some stuff I don’t like. This is a topic for another post, but Mr. Martinez writes some good posts on this topic. This was merely one of many.

Regarding "Harry's Law"

by
Scott D. Parker

Anyone watching NBC’s “Harry’s Law”? It airs at 9pm CST on Mondays opposite my favorite TV show, ABC’s “Castle,” and CBS’s “Hawaii Five-O.” Through the magic of On Demand, I’ve caught the first five episodes of Harry’s Law and I’m enjoying the heck out of it.

It’s a David E. Kelley show so, right off the bat, you pretty much know what you’re going to get. Law show? Check. Outsized characters? Check. Passionate courtroom arguments posing as opinion pieces for Mr. Kelley? Check. But, then again, this kind of show is right up my alley. I was a huge “Boston Legal” fan. I could watch an hour of James Spader-as-Alan Shore reading the phone book and I’d be entertained. William Shatner successfully shed the Kirk skin with his role as--say it with me--Denny Crane. Candice Bergen was sublime in her role as Shirley Schmidt. Truthfully, I miss the show more than I care to admit.

Which is where Harry’s Law comes in. Kathy Bates stars in this legal drama set in Cincinnati. She is a prominent patent attorney who gets fired only see her hang a shingle in a downtown storefront that also sell shoes. Yup, shoes. She’s earnest and, according to one character in the fifth episode, the law profession is better off for Bates’s Harriet Korn being a lawyer. Of course it is. It’s a David Kelley show.

Surrounding her is a typical cast of characters. Earnest young lawyer, Adam Branch (played by Nate Corddry, late of “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip”) who more or less sees her as a mother figure (and a target for his car: episode one) and proves himself in her eyes. Cute young receptionist Jenna Backstorm (Brittany Snow) who takes appointments and sells the shoes. Rounding out the fantastic foursome is Malcolm Davies (Aml Ameen) who tried to commit suicide only to land on Harry. After being successfully (natch) defended in court by Harry, Malcolm now works for Harry as a paralegal.

The tone of this essay might sound a bit sarcastic and, to be true, there’s a little of that. David E. Kelley has become a brand name of sorts. You attach his name to anything he does (the magnificent Picket Fences, the always fun Ally McBeal) and you pretty much know what you’re going to get. I think, perhaps, the reason I love Kelley shows so much is that they are like CSI: Miami: they don’t try to be real, they strive to be entertaining via none-too-subtle performances and setups.

If Harry doesn’t have any foil, the result would be much like the Star Wars prequels, which suffered the absence of Han Solo. Harry’s got two. Josh Peyton (the excellent Paul McCrane at his smarmy best), the DA, who is put upon as much as Hamilton Burger was opposite Perry Mason. And then there’s Thomas Jefferson. Ah, yes, the cousin of William Shatner’s Denny Crane. Tommy Jefferson is the arrogant, near buffoon of a lawyer, known for his name if not his courtroom prowess. More than once in these five episodes, after Jefferson (played superbly by Christopher McDonald*) has gone on a mini rant, I kept waiting for him to say “Denny Crane.” He does say “Tommy Jefferson” some. I love it.

The show breaks little new ground, but it fills the void left by Boston Legal. And, at times, the characters make choices and follow through with actions that make them more three dimensional. Back in the day, the public loved watching Perry Mason take an almost unwinnable case and turn it on a dime. The same holds true here. It’s just fun. The developing tete-a-tete between the veteran Jefferson and the newbie Branch is vintage Kelley.

Now, I will always tune in and watch “Castle” live. That won’t change. But I think I’m to the point now where I don’t want to wait until the show lands On Demand the following day. I’m thinking I’m going to have to tape it and get my “Harry’s Law” fix immediately after “Castle.” Forget the late local news. I want to learn in the classroom of David Kelley.

Watch episode online here.

Article of the Week: Check out the interview Entertainment Weekly had with “Thor” director Kenneth Branagh. I’ve never been a huge fan of Thor, but I put the movie on my to-see list as soon as I read Branagh was to sit in the director’s chair. Reading this article on how he went about crafting the movie and his thoughts on popular entertainment, both for Shakespeare and in the 21st Century, is enlightening and honest.

*Bonus points to you if you can name McDonald's "Star Trek" credentials.

The Readings, They Are a'Changing

by
Scott D. Parker

What do you do when you see change coming? Do you silo yourself within your existing infrastructure, making sure the ramparts are safe from The Outside? Do you peek outside, wondering what the strange new thing might be, curious, but cautious? Or do you throw open the floodgates and let forth the flood of newness, willingly succumbing to the outside influence?

No, I’m not talking about the happenings in the Middle East and Africa, although those events are much more important than what I’ll be writing about today. I’m talking about reading habits and, by extension, writing habits. What do you do when you realize that the types of books (movies and TV, too) you consume show signs of changing?

I’ve been mulling that question over for a few weeks, starting late last year. Unlike a major milestone, I cannot pinpoint the moment things began to change. Only later do I realize that they are. Yes, I’m using the present tense because this is a flux time where I don’t know the ending.

If you look at my bookshelves here in my writing room--shelves culled from a larger collection now in storage--you’ll find a pretty consistent theme: SF, hard-boiled fiction, with some good noir thrown in for spice. Every book in storage is a book I’ve read. The remainder, the ones visible to me everyday, are the ones I haven’t read and want to and to which I will get around.

Someday. Right now, I just don’t want to read them. At least, not in the past couple of months. Their spines stare at me, but I don’t respond. Other books and television shows, however, have called, and I’ve answered.

Television’s a nice, visual example. My favorite shows on TV are “Castle,” “CSI: Miami,” and whatever is playing on Masterpiece Mystery/Contemporary. Common elements to these shows is a lower level of violence shown and little, if any, language issues. One of the things American network television has to do is captivate an audience for an hour without the overt use of violence and language. As much as Kate Beckett or Horatio Caine want to talk like the cops in “The Wire,” they can’t. Instead, the writers have to rely on other elements of a story to keep viewers engaged. The British do this kind of thing exceptionally well. The current Masterpiece Contemporary program is part 1 (of 2) of “Place of Execution,” a film based on a Val McDermid novel that is exceptional in its complexity of story and lack of visual violence. In one scene, officers find photos that are so bad, half of the men can’t look. Given the modern de-sensitivity to violence, some filmmakers would show the images, either as stills or as hazy flashbacks, replete with blood and whatever else those images were supposed to show.

The *not* showing is important. I’ve realized the obvious in recent weeks: my favorite TV shows focus not on the easy violence but of the crucial points of a good story. The same is true for some of the books I’ve read (and am reading). The second Richard Castle book, Naked Heat, is an excellent mystery story with nary a bit a foul language and very little violence. And, yet, it’s a page turner. I flew through it so fast and effortlessly that I did something I rarely (and loathe) to do: I re-read it, taking note of structure and pace.

Naked Heat was a darn good mystery. Another good mystery is fellow Do Some Damage scribe Joelle Charbonneau’s debut novel, Skating Around the Law*. It’s such a fun romp that it made me wonder why I overlook an entire section of mystery fiction. While the book doesn’t fall within the strict definition of a cozy, it’s clear that Joelle’s book isn’t a nihilistic noiry tale like many of us (including myself) enjoy. My latest book from New Mystery Reader is a full-blooded cozy while the third book I’m reading is a traditional mystery set in France. Couple that with the current book my SF book club is reading--a tiresome bore with death and destruction that I’ll probably won’t finish--and I’m questioning the types of stories I like to consume.

Right now, some of y’all are saying that I’m just getting old and my tastes are changing. That’s an argument I’ll grant you. At the end of the day, what will likely happen is that these new-to-me types of stories will become assimilated into the broader scope of my reading landscape. Besides, I’m the type of person who used to watch the latest episode of “Monk” and then follow it up with a full DVD of “The Wire.”

All of this pondering raises another question to go along with the ones I posed earlier: do you ever get tired of definitions? British crime dramas are “traditional mysteries” and, while some are defined as cozy (Miss Marple) others are not (Foyle’s War), they both have the same limited use of violence and language. You ask a group of ten writers the definition of “noir” and you’ll get ten answers. Our definitions of story types can probably be reduced to marketing terms, the better to sell books. I’m cool with that.

It goes without saying that this change in reading habit has also changed the types of stories my mind sees and that I write. That, however, is another post.

Of the questions I posed earlier, I think I have my own, personal answer. I’ve opened the door, curious and intrigued to see what’s out there.

What do you do when your reading habits change?


*Check my personal blog this Wednesday where I’ll be reviewing Joelle’s book for Barry Summy’s monthly Book Review Club.

Anyone watching CBS's "The Defenders"?

by
Scott D. Parker

As my wife will attest, the *new* show I was most looking forward to was CBS's "The Defenders." I'm hard pressed to give definitive reasons why this particular show sparked my interest. Jim Belushi is not a favorite actor of mine. He's okay, in a normal guy sort of way. I've seen the movie "Underdog" numerous times and grew to like him. At the same time, I always considered his recent sitcom, According to Jim, one of the reasons why sitcoms had sunk so low. Jerry O'Connell also is rarely on my radar. Nothing against him, but nothing really in favor of him either. To be honest, when I saw the casting, I was kind of like "Who put those two together?" And "Who greenlit this one?"

I had those thought up until I saw the preview. These guys have chemistry! Someone knew something I didn't. Guess that's why I don't work for a network. Belushi plays Nick Morelli, an attorney in Vegas. He's separated from his wife who looks after their young son (about ten years old I think). His partner, Pete Kaczmarek, is the young stud to Nick's blue collar workman. Pete's into fast cars, great clothes, and hot women, particularly stewardesses and the assistant DA, Meredith.

Even now, I know what you're thinking: yet another lawyer show in Vegas where the underdog defense attorneys fight the good fight against the big, bad DA. Yes, there is some of that. But, in the tradition of Matlock and Perry Mason and Alan Shore and Denny Crane, these guys know how to win. And, unlike those other famous television lawyers, Nick and Pete care about their clients as people, not just a paycheck.

I knew going in that there was going to be some fast talk, lots of references to gambling as metaphor, and general pretty-people-doing-pretty-things vibe. That stuff is in there and it needs to be to stay on the network. Also, I knew that Nick and Pete would be the heart in an otherwise heartless City of Sin. I mean, they are defense attorneys, not bigwig corporate lawyers. What surprised me the most is Belushi. More to the point, it is the brain of Belushi's Nick that has been a happy surprise.

Frankly, I thought Nick would use a lot of fancy courtroom tricks as the main method of winning his cases. There's a great one in the pilot (and previews) where he proves to the audience how a man would have been shot in the back as a defensive maneuver. It was Nick's thought process that was good, giving Belushi the gravitas to prove that he ain't just a jovial guy not to be taken lightly. He can be thoughtful and, most importantly, have that appearance of intelligence be true to the character.

O'Connell's Pete is a slick lawyer, one that would find a home on just about any courtroom drama. If I had to pick another show (that I've watched; never watched Law and Order) where he would fit, it would have been Ally McBeal with Boston Legal a close second. He's young, ambitious, and keen to have a good payout. And he has, so far, been on the receiving end of Nick's instructions. The best way, according to Nick, to determine if a driver could have seen a jogger (that the driver killed) is for Pete to run, in his fancy shoes, along the street while Nick drives behind him. To date, Pete's been the more comic relief character. I expect that to change.

Halfway through the pilot episode, I emailed a friend and suggested that The Defenders might fill the gap left by Boston Legal. In the two episodes aired so far, The Defenders went from "Let me check this new show out" to "I will take no calls during the 9pm hour on Wednesdays."

Here's the link to the CBS website where you can watch the first two episodes now (and probably all the others later on).

Does anyone else watch this show?

Why Do Pulp Heroes Fade...and Then Return?

by
Scott D. Parker

Two articles online this week merged with a feeling I was beginning to have about Jack Bauer, the pulp hero of “24”: I’m not sure I care about him anymore.

Let’s state the obvious: Jack Bauer is a pulp hero. He’s a modern-day Doc Savage, James Bond, Tarzan, what have you. Jack gets himself in a tight spot, you know he’s getting out. He may get himself beaten or tortured (just about every season) but he’ll bounce back. Don’t worry.

With the Olympics this year, I found myself recording two episodes of “24” to watch after the Olympics. When it came time to watch these taped episodes, my wife and I looked at each other and asked the same question: do we care?

The plot lines this season haven’t been stellar. Frankly, they have a distinct tinge of “we’ve already seen this before.” You could make similar cases for previous seasons with the exceptions of seasons one and four. The first season was good because of the then-new concept of a ‘real time’ show and the fact that the writers killed off Jack’s wife in the final minutes of the finale. Season four was just all sorts of good, with lots of twists and turns and culpability that ended in the White House. The narratives threads this year, however, have paled in comparison. It’s like a soap opera with guns. There are story arcs that I just don’t care about. My wife and I agreed that we’d be happy with a retitled show called “12” and just show Bauer’s story.

Our disenchantment with “24” got me to thinking about classic pulp heroes and stories. I’m still reading Doc Savage #2 but the template is apparent. Doc and his team get themselves into a dire situation and emerge mostly unscathed. Repeat the next month. Same for Tarzan’s books, Sherlock Holmes, comic books, etc. Modern police TV shows and series characters in novels are not immune. Shows like “CSI: Miami” are less police procedurals than visual comfort food.

How was it, then, that pulp characters like Doc Savage and The Shadow and Perry Mason lasted so long with essentially the same format? Were readers back in the 1930s and 1940s less sophisticated than we are? Is it that we have more choices?

In a recent article, Charles Ardai, co-founder of Hard Case Crime, asks whether or not the pulp fiction stock market is set up for another crash. He cites that in the years since the pulp fiction heyday, periodic revivals have emerged, with his being the most high-profile in recent years.

My main question here is this: why does pulp fiction return? Why does the appetite of readers start to hunger for shorter novels with punchy characters? Good question. One reason I’ll posit is that pulp fiction revivals are a reaction to the dark and gritty material that is, at times, too dark and too violent.

Over at io9, there is a rant against “superhero tragedy porn” in comic books and why it’s bad for the industry. Right off the bat, author Cyriaque Lamar criticizes comic book writers for dark and gritty stories that attempt to make these stories more adult merely by injecting violence in the tales. The problem with comics, however, is the capacity to overindulge the violence. “24” does this, as well, with the inevitable torture sequence either by Jack of of Jack.

In the DC Comics world, there now seems to be a trend of lighter fare, of a return to some of the glory days of comic books before the dark times--the mid-1980s onward, the post-Watchmen, post-Dark Knight Returns era. Perhaps DC is seeing something the reading public is craving: pure, fun, escapist stories. The thing is that this kind of storytelling does get repetitive and boring, too.

I’m not saying that dark material is bad, in comics or elsewhere. It has it’s place and it is powerful when used correctly and judiciously. But there has to be some sort of middle ground. We can’t have overly dark stories all the time but we tire of stories with characters that never change and never face anything dark.

Is the fading of pulp heroes and the rise of darker material just a natural trend that ebbs and flows with the passing decades? I think so. But I’d like to get your take, too.