First of all, before I get into details about anything, I have to say that whoever writes the promo spots for NBC should be fired. If possible, the promo staff should be retroactively fired to before this season's episode promos started airing, so we could start over with promos that do not actively turn you off from the shows you formerly loved.
Click here to read the rest.
At this point, anything I'm watching on NBC is in spite of the promos, not because of them. Of course, the only things I'm regularly watching NBC are FNL and Journeyman (more on that later), but the promos spots for these two shows in particular are horrendous. I can just see the thought-process there: What are the most exquisitely painful plot points we can highlight, and how can we make sure everyone knows that their favorite characters are either in peril or miserable, or -- jackpot! -- both?
Seriously, NBC: knock it off, because you're making it harder and harder for me to want to watch these shows, which is a shame because when I finally overcome my promo-based aversion and fire up the TiVO, I adore them just as much as I ever did, if not more. So please, stop it.
2.2 - Bad Ideas
I loved this episode's title, it was so fitting. So many bad ideas, so little time. It seems every single character is caught in a downward spiral this season, the only difference is their relative velocities as they hurtle towards their collective doom. I'm not kidding about that, either -- everyone is in trouble.
The Taylors, together, are struggling with being separated and the feeling that their family is coming apart at the seams. Neither one is over-reacting to the stresses around them, which are considerable. Tami is completely overwhelmed by newborn, cranky Grace, and teenaged, rebellious Julie. The house is a disaster and Julie is not doing anything at all, it seems, to help out. I think it's hard to realize how alone Tami is in Dillon, in spite of the fact that she has a daughter. Her contacts at school are exactly that, school contacts, and she doesn't have another woman friend she can call up and say, "Hey, you can watch Grace for an hour so I can get some shopping done?", or anything else, for that matter. She should be able to leave Grace with Julie, and in fact she should be actively trying to get Julie to engage with her little sister, but Julie is so wrapped up in her own misery right now she's practically unreachable. Of course, if Julie would pitch in at home and help her mom, she might not feel so isolated, but she doesn't see it that way, and reacts (as teenagers typically do) by withdrawing.
When Glen, the science teacher who's covering for Tami while she's on her maternity leave, stops by with a box of files to review with her, he inadvertently becomes Tami's local support system. I don't think he minds, but he does know that he's out of his depth. He was right to ask what Tami was thinking, out walking with Grace in 105 degree heat -- believe me, when the thermometer reads 105, it's a lot hotter on the sidewalk, in the sun, and both mother and daughter were set up for dehydration. Tami should know better -- Tami does know better, but she's not thinking very clearly at the moment. Tami is not at all interested in Glen as a man, but I think it's very possible that Glen has a crush on Tami, even though he'd never do a thing about it, and I loved that he was finally able to get her to admit that living apart from Eric was her idea, and it was a stupid one. I'm relieved that Tami finally asked for help, and I think that it was OK to ask Glen, but I wish she wouldn't stop there -- she needs to keep reaching out and getting support, and as a counselor, she should know that. Isolation is terrible, and having a new baby is tremendously isolating even if you have other kids!
Back to Julie, her attraction to the Swede finally overtakes her impulse to behave decently towards Saracen, which has been waning for some time now; she finally gets up the nerve to give the "it's not you, it's me," speech, but doing it makes her feel worse, not better. She gets over that pretty quickly, though -- only to be patted on the head by the Swede when she sees him at the pool! Sorry, but the Swede is a creep. He knows Julie is only 16 years old and his flirting with her is completely icky. He has to be in his 20s, and he's way too old for Julie, and yet he pursues her. Personally, at this point I think Lois and Saracen should get together, because they've both been badly used by Julie and could bond over that. Plus, Lois seems like a genuinely good girl, as opposed to the brat that Julie is becoming.
Moving onto Saracen, he made his best attempt to keep Julie, and keep her happy, but she had already moved on. He's struggling with the new coach's attitude, and his grandmother is as dotty as ever. Julie dumping him will ultimately turn out to be a good thing for him, I think, as will the arrival of his grandmother's live-in nurse. It's a shame that she's (so far) a stereotype feisty bitch, but she does seem to know what's she talking about regarding the care his grandmother needs. Again, this will, in the long term, turn out to be a good thing for Matt, as he won't have to worry so much about what's going on at home. High school juniors should worry about SATs, grades, and girls, and not whether or not Grandma is bathing at the neighbor's house again. Still, transitions are hard, and Matt has a lot of new situations to accustom himself to.
The Tyra/Landry storyline got stupider, which I did not think possible, with the introduction of the Lost Watch Issue. Stupid, stupid, stupid, but still, it forced the two characters together in an intimate setting, and gave Landry a believable setting in which to finally profess his love for Tyra. Two important things happened then: first, she believed him, and second, she was surprised, because she had never allowed herself to see it. Landry was not that good at hiding his feelings for Tyra, but she was great at not recognizing them for what they were. Now it's all out there. Tyra's subsequent confession to Landry shows what a great couple they are -- he's not sorry he did it and would do it again, for her; she wishes she had done it, both for the satisfaction and to spare him -- and she was equally believable. I liked that Tyra didn't jump into saying she loves Landry, because she doesn't know how she feels about him -- but she knows she feels enough for him to sleep with him, and the way that all works out was pretty much OK.
Jason Street: team mascot, or quarterback coach? Well, since the new coach has such an emphasis on the running game and Smash in particular, Jason isn't left with much to do. But he has new hope since he can make a fist now, something he wasn't able to do before. He's disappointed when the doctor insists, for the nth time, that he won't walk again. One of Jason's rugby teammates tells him about some experimental stem cell surgery they're doing in Mexico (forcibly reminding us of the episode's title.) Later, Jason runs into Tami as she's leaving Glen's office, and tells her that in his recurring dream, she tells him to get up and walk, and he does. He thanks her; Tami is touched but concerned, but Jason is radiantly hopeful.
Lyla's still a Jesus freak, but her prayers become less confident as she watches Tim Riggins macking with a rally girl on the other side of the cafeteria. Riggins is still messing up in practice and calling the coach's wrath down upon himself. The two are brought together when Buddy, Lyla's dad, overdoes it at the pep rally -- moved from his dealership out to a rival booster's ranch -- and collapses in a drunken heap. Riggins helps Lyla get her dad to his generic apartment, and the two share a (non-physical) moment. These two have chemistry, but Lyla knows that going back to Tim would be very, very bad for her, and resists. Tim, for his part, is still in love with her, and I'm not sure what it would take for him to not be.
Coming back around to Coach Taylor, he's struggling in his position at TMU. He's low man on the totem pole, and as such he's assigned the unpleasant task of ferrying an unrepentant player to a hearing on ethics charges. Taylor gives the obnoxious player an earful on how his selfishness and arrogance are letting the team down, but the player scores one on Taylor, asking him what the hell he's doing in Austin when he has a new baby at home in Dillon. Since the player smartens up and sincerely apologizes, and Taylor steps in and says they'll make sure this guy straightens up, the player ends up with only a 3-game suspension. When the head coach congratulates Taylor on his accomplishment, Eric realizes that this is the way it's going to be: he's the guy that gets to put out these fires, because he can pull it off, but he's not going to have any chance to change the culture there that leads to these problems in the first place, because he has no influence there. Tami says he has to make himself indispensable, but that's the kind of thing that happens over years of experience, and how frustrating it must be for Taylor to be shuttled over to a position of no real responsibility after guiding his high school team's every move on their way to the state championship.
In short: no one's happy, but the stuff that's happening makes sense. The only really egregious thing was the Lost Watch business, but Tyra and Landry are doing OK in spite of it -- Landry, hysterically, asks "his" rally girl if she thinks everyone is capable of evil; before the bubblehead can answer, Tyra whisks him away. I wish that Tami would sit Julie down and admit to her that this bad idea was hers, and that she needs Julie's help -- that would go a long way towards reconciling Julie to what's going on in their home, but alas, that doesn't happen, and things go from bad to worse.
2.3, Are You Ready for Friday Night?
Easily could've been title, "Bad Ideas, continued."
The high points of the episode, for me, surprisingly, were all about Landry and Tyra: Waking in the morning, Landry shushing Tyra before she says something that "will undoubtedly ruin the most perfect night of my life;" Tyra climbing out of Landry's window, seen but unremarked upon by Landry's father. Landry's dad asking him if he's seeing any girls, and not pressing when Landry says he's not. Later, Landry's dad goes to Applebee's for lunch, and Tyra's his waitress. The "So, are you dating my son or what?" is too complicated for Tyra, and she takes a minute to think about why she hangs around with Landry, and in describing him to his father, she realizes that maybe she should love him, even if she doesn't, quite yet. So when she climbs back in the window, later, we know exactly why, and we can enjoy that these two have each other for at least a little while before everything goes all to hell (next week's episode promos reveal that the body was found.)
Unfortunately, some clunky Lost Watch foreshadowing was shoe-horned into these scenes, but since they launched that particular plot line, I guess they can't just leave it dangling.
Coach Taylor really doesn't like his job. He's working with a new young player who's having trouble with a particular play, just not getting it; Taylor is frankly appalled when he is directed to cut the boy loose. It's one thing to cut a high school kid, but at a football school, what are the odds that cutting the kid will mean that he loses his scholarship, and his chance to get an education? Taylor doesn't want to do it, and even asks if he has to do it, which is kind of weaselly; I'd assume he'd know already that was part of his job, but we never actually see him tell the kid he's cut.
Meanwhile, Eric is keeping tabs on what's happening back in Dillon, where Buddy is feeding him a line about how the new coach, McGregor, is brutal, and everything is falling apart. It's true the team spirit is at an all time low, as Smash is the center of attention and enjoying it, not giving anyone else credit for anything. It's so bad that other members of the team prevail upon Saracen to talk to Smash about his attitude, but inarticulate Matt was probably not the best choice to go up against smooth-talking Smash, who says it's all about Saracen being jealous because he's not captain anymore, and other assorted trash talk. Saracen insists that's not it, but Smash blows him off, and all the other players are even more steamed.
Riggins shows up at practice hungover, and ends up passing out when the coach responds with his usual draconian extra-drills approach; he ends up hospitalized for the better part of the day until Buddy Garrity, of all people, signs him out. Lyla stops by to visit, to repay the kindness he showed in helping her with her father after the pep rally incident, and she invites to Riggins to her church.
Jason Street, meanwhile, is trying to get Riggins to shape up but is constantly being denigrated by McGregor. During the season opener, nothing goes as planned, and the team is deadlocked at 0-0 until McGregor gives a play directly to Smash, who runs it in for a touchdown. Throughout the game, Street had tried to make suggestions to break the deadlock, but McGregor blows him off, saying he doesn't have time to listen to advice from the team mascot. On the field, Saracen loses it at the sight of Smash's grandstanding, and attacks him; the whole team ends up out there, trying to pull Matt off Smash. All the women in the stands look on, appalled; Eric watches from the sidelines, thinking: What the hell has this guy done to my team?
Julie wasn't even at the game, it seems; she's hanging out the Swede and his pot-smoking college friends, talking about politics and the environment and all those grown-up topics; Julie tosses off a remark about global warming, and everyone appreciates how smart and funny she is. Julie passes on the joint. Meanwhile, Tami is leaving messages on Julie's cell phone that it's 2AM... eventually we see Julie parked with the Swede, in front of the Taylor's house; they're making out. Tami sees them through the window and storms out, and demands that Julie get in the house. Julie refuses, and asks the Swede to take her away. Showing an ounce of sense for the first time, he refuses, "That would be kidnapping." Still, Tami ends up literally dragging Julie out of the van, saying she's not grown up and rid of Tami yet. Julie says they got rid of her when her dad went to Austin and Tami had Grace, which gets her a slap in the face; she runs into the house, crying. We don't get to see whether Tami and the Swede had words, but I would've really liked to hear them.
After the game, Erik meets with Buddy Garrity at his dealership; Buddy looks like he fell asleep face-first into his paperwork. Buddy starts selling Eric on the idea of coming back to Dillon, citing how McGregor is messing up the team, but then smoothly moving on to how Eric's family is struggling. Eric gets home, Tami confesses that she slapped Julie, and then she completely breaks down. (Emmy reel #2 for Connie Britton.) Eric ends up back at the dealership, shaking Buddy's hand and saying he hopes he won't regret this. Now, this is a sign of how desperate the situation is, because Eric Taylor knows that Buddy Garrity is not a straight-up kind of guy. Buddy's not totally sleazy, but he's not completely trustworthy, either. Why would Eric do this? Another factor to consider: Taylor doesn't realize just how out of the loop Buddy is. Does Eric realize that Buddy has been pushed out of the Panthers' Booster inner circle, and that he doesn't weild as much influence as he once used to? We don't know, but chances are, Eric doesn't realize that; if he did, he might have been more hesitant to enter into this Faustian bargain with the disgraced and displaced car salesman.
Meanwhile, at the Saracen house, the new girl is helping with Grandma but not doing Matt's laundry, an issue I can see both sides of. It's kind of obnoxious to do everyone else's laundry without telling Matt beforehand that she wasn't going to do his, too, especially since it's not that much extra work to throw Matt's clothes in with the others. Doing laundry for one person is a pain in the butt, you end up with three or four really small loads depending on how you sort it. So I'm thinking the nurse is going to be a world-class jerk until after the game, when Matt trudges in, abraded and depressed, and then she's actually nice to him. I liked the vibe there, which was much more big-sister/caretaker than romantic, especially her singing the song her mother used to sing her when she got hurt when she was little. It could go either way, but for now I'd rather not see Matt get romantically involved with anyone. That kids need to rest his bruised psyche.
Riggins takes up Lyla on her church offer, and we get to see a huge mega-church production with all sorts of singing and carrying-on. I don't think it was disrespectful to show this, as I believe it was accurate, but at the same time, I don't like that kind of ostentatious, revival meeting "service." Riggins is unreadable in these scenes, but later he goes to Lyla's bedroom as she's undressing for bed, and tells her he thinks he felt something. I honestly couldn't tell whether or not he meant it or was just trying to get Lyla to sleep with him again; when he kisses her, it would seem that we should go with "ruse", but I'm still not sure. Lyla is, though, and kicks him out: "Did you think I would fall for that?"
Riggins is a mess, at home, drinking, when Street rolls up and tosses a beer bottle at his house, screaming at him to come out. Jason's little speech has just the right amount of inarticulate rage, as he defends his coaching ability while insisting that he and Riggins end their "so-called friendship." Riggins just lets Street rant until Jason gets to the part about going to Mexico for the surgery, and then stops him: "Wait a minute. Mexico?" Next thing you know, both boys are in Street's truck, and it's road trip time. Hilarity ensues: "Do you have a map?" "I have a map," followed by Riggins attempting to give Street a beer. When Street declines, Riggins says, but we're going to Mexico! Street replies: "We're still in Texas, you idiot."
Previews for next week are ominous, with the body's discovery and at least one of the boys getting arrested, and Tami's joyous "Guess who's home?" immediately deflated by Eric's concerned "You mean I don't have a job?"
As I said, the promo guys are killing me. The show, on the other hand, is holding up remarkably well. I know there's hate out there, hate for the Landry/Tyra storyline, and now there's probably hate for the Eric/Buddy handshake, and what that portends. I said in my write-up of the first episode that I wanted Eric to stick it out for a season, because I didn't see how he could do otherwise and ever expect to get a job, but then I didn't foresee Buddy Garrity getting involved in the process. Buddy needs the Panthers even more (sadly) than he needs his family, and a cornered man will do whatever it takes to survive, so I'm not putting anything past Buddy Garrity's capabilities. But it's pretty obvious that things are going to get worse before they get better. The question is, will anyone be left watching by the time things start turning around? Will the show even still be on the air by that time? God, I hope so.
Showing posts with label Friday Night Lights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friday Night Lights. Show all posts
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Monday, October 08, 2007
Friday Night Lights 2.1: 80% fantastic, 20% stupid
"Last Days of Summer"
(spoilers)
So, last week I tried to convince you to watch Friday Night Lights, and I really hope you did.
Now, I'm hoping you'll stick around for the rest of the season, because the season two premiere, "Last Days of Summer," may not have been what you signed up for, especially if you were already a fan.
Click here to read the rest.
A lot of people have complained, a lot, about the character betrayals and set-ups this episode threw at us, and I can understand that. I'm not ready to quit, though, because I well remember how often the writing staff dug itself into a pit only to somehow get itself out again in just a few nimble episodes. So, here's the rundown:
The Taylors: by far still the best thing on television now, and possibly ever. Tami goes into labor unexpectedly, three weeks away from her due date; Coach has to fly back from Austin and gets there just in the nick of time. When we last saw this couple, Panthers had just won State, Tami had told Eric about her pregnancy, and Eric had accepted a job as the quarterback coach at fictional TMU in Austin. Eric wanted to move the family up so they could all be together, Tami insisted that she and Julie stay. Tami, because she loved her job as a guidance counselor and felt she was making a real contribution to the town, and Julie so she could have some stability for a few years before she graduated high school.
Apparently, Eric had been coming home for the weekend every two or three weeks, or maybe there were longer stretches in between. This long-distance commuter marriage/family situation would be enough to make anyone crazy, and it has had its effects on Julie, who while not exactly unhappy with Matt Saracen, is wondering Is this all there is? This can't be all there is! Julie's scene with Tami at the pool is marvelously underwritten. There's no need for dialog to convey exactly what Julie -- and every other teen at the pool -- is thinking: There's Mrs. Coach, hugely pregnant, living proof that she has sex with Coach! Every guy is thinking how lucky Coach is, because Tami is hot, and every girl -- except Julie -- is thinking she wouldn't mind bearing Coach's babies. Julie, meanwhile, wants to die, because she's a teenager and she does not want to think about her parents having sex, because it's just too gross to contemplate. All of this gets communicated through facial expressions and body language and tone of voice, and it's completely brilliant.
Connie Britton has an Emmy reel already, from that pitch-perfect scene with Julie at the pool to holding back tears when Eric has to return to Austin, only to completely collapse as soon as she hears the click of the door. Here's the thing with Tami: she knows that staying in Dillon was her idea, that Eric never wanted it, and now she's regretting that decision even though she will never be able to admit that to anyone, ever herself. She promised Eric she could do it, and so she will.
Meanwhile, Coach is trying to figure out what the heck he's doing with his family, including his new baby, hours away from where he works. That kind of divided life ages you quickly, and he looked worn out even before the baby was born. This life is weighing on him. I know he hates it, but he promised he would endure it because Tami asked him to, and she promised him they could do it, together. Then Gracie comes three weeks early (we'll cut them a ton of slack for not casting a smaller baby -- it's impossible to get newborns), at a time of the year when the coaches are establishing their teams and everything. Eric has to go if he's going to keep his job.
I've always hated -- in real life or on film -- any dialog containing the words I have no choice, because there's always a choice. When Eric says it, what he means is, My choice is between my job and my family, and if I don't have a job, that's the biggest betrayal of my family I could ever commit. The choice has been made; if Eric's not working, there's no income. And if he walks away from this job, the odds of him getting another approach zero very quickly. Still, I hated hearing him say it, convincing himself that it was true. And Tami didn't argue.
The Coach/Julie scenes were right up there with the Coach/Tami scenes, ranging from frustration and anger (on both parts) right up through forgiveness and love. Julie was doing a lot of acting out in this episode, especially with the passive-aggressive stuff like not cleaning up the house, and going out on her little sister's first day home. But she was so miserable, all those things were literal cries for help. When her dad came and rescued her in the car, and they talked, really talked, you could see her relaxing back into her love for and faith in him, and their family. The next day, with the tiniest of nods, Tami called Eric's attention to Julie washing dishes, unbidden by anyone. The contrast of how good and right everything is when they are together and how miserable they are apart can be seen in the difference in the family vibe at the beginning of the episode and at the end. Family life is a constant series of negotiations and compromises, but if a major player is absent a majority of the time, everything gets skewed.
Matt Saracen is still a total sweetheart and I love him dearly, and I loved how he was practically aggressive in asking Julie to the party after Coach quite pointedly told him not to just stand there and watch it happen. I expect (hope) now that Julie's eyes have been opened re: the Swede (cute, but way too old for her), she'll be much nicer to Matt. I've read elsewhere that Matt could do better than Julie, and I suppose that's true; she is a bit whiny and hasn't been very nice to him lately. But he loves her, and understands the pain of separation and family responsibilities -- Julie should let Matt help her cope, instead of shutting him out.
Talk of Saracen of course brings us to the indomitable Landry, who is, somewhat improbably, still friends with Tyra, and trying out for the football team in an effort to win the respect of his dad, not to mention the admiration of Tyra. We haven't met Landry's father yet, so who's to say the ploy won't work, but with respect to Tyra, Landry doesn't get that she likes him because he's not a football player. Jesse Plemons has the build for football, so it's not completely unbelievable when he makes the team, but I'm a little disappointed that Landry's abandoned his counter-cultural hatred of sports. On the other hand, Landry is Saracen's best friend, and Saracen is QB1, so Landry really can't be a big sports-hater after all, can he?
Let's address the murder, shall we? I'm not going to talk about previous versions or any of that crap; the only thing that's "real" in the universe of the show is what NBC broadcast, which is that Landry picked up the pipe and attacked Tyra's would-be rapist from behind, while he was walking away, and Landry hit the man again once he was down. There's no spinning this, it was murder. I think he could reasonably plead temporary insanity but there's no question that it was murder.
So, having murdered the creep, Landry freaks out and Tyra is no help whatsoever. They don't, apparently, call 911, when it would've been so easy to lie and say that Landry whacked the guy while he was attacking Tyra, that would've removed any thought of murder, and there would be no reason for anyone to suspect they lied, anyway. We really don't know what they did, though. Yes, we saw them driving to the bridge, and we got shots of the rushing waters, but did they dump the body? Would they really be that dumb? Hello, the guy's car is still parked at the convenience store.
The only thing I can say is: in real life, people do panic and do stupid things. Also, in this show, the writers have the characters do stupid things, like having Smash lead all the black players off the team while they were in the playoffs, just to impress Waverly. That was stupid, and a betrayal of his character; if you ask me, the one thing Smash understands is the importance of football to Dillon and to his own future, and that kind of showboating maneuver, especially over a trumped-up "offense" supposedly perpetrated by a coach he had worked with for years, was ridiculous. So I hated that plotline, although I did love how they resolved it: Corrina, Smash's mother, gave him a good talking-to and straightened him out, and he called off the strike.
It was stupid of Tim Riggins to start sleeping with his 30-something neighbor, too; when last we saw them, she had kicked him out of her bed and, given Tim's current drunken state, she has kept him away. Tim needs someone to anchor him, and without Tyra or Lyla or neighbor lady, he's toast. I've seen particular complaints about Tim's backsliding, but given his character, it makes a lot of sense to me.
Lyla Garrity, born again? Not such an angel, though -- I cracked up at her scene with Tim ("Enjoy your depravity!") and the "blessing" she said for grace, archly telling off her mother's would-be boyfriend and her mom for wearing "skinny jeans." She's every bit as much of a control freak as ever, only now she has Jesus on her side, Lord help us all. And Lyla's parents are obviously still mired in their breakup, with Buddy still sleeping at the dealership, and snooping around his kids' afterschool activities.
Poor Buddy, his life completely sucks: the new coach won't even let him watch practices. Of course we're meant to detest the new coach, who in real life would swearing a blue streak at his boys, but since this is not HBO, has to make do with the lamest swear-free rants I've yet to hear. Jason Street, looking fit and enjoying his coaching job, can see where New Coach is going to have problems that Eric Taylor never did. I kind of like that New Coach is a hardass, but the problem is, he's a hardass even when he doesn't need to be, and it was over-the-top to accuse Jason of being a mascot.
We can easily read into this situation how things will go, eventually: Dillon hates the New Coach, Coach Taylor hates being so far away from his family, New Coach is let go for some pretext, Taylor is brought back in. How many episodes will this take? I know a lot of fans want Coach Taylor back in Dillon asap, and wish he were already there, but I'm not one of them.
Here's what I'm hoping: Coach Taylor sticks with his team at TMU for the entire season there, and somehow manages the bouncing back and forth between Austin and Dillon. Anything less than that, the writers better have something mock-proof to justify him leaving any sooner. In the real world, that's the way things work. He'd have to stick it out at least a year before he could leave with any credibility or hope of getting a job anywhere else.
As for the murder plot, I have no idea where they're going with that, and I'm scared for both Tyra and Landry. They are two likable characters and I want them to succeed, but again, in real life, sometimes good people get screwed over, and sometimes good people are screwed over by their own very bad decisions. People are freaking out about this scenario because they love Tyra and Landry, and I understand that, but this show is not afraid to show that even good people make mistakes, and good people often fail.
I've read complaints that the murder took viewers out the story, and made the show less real, more tv-drama. These complaints have validity, but since the murder and its aftermath took up so little of the premiere episode, and we don't really know what happened, we're just going to have to wait and see how the writers handle this. I've seen them write themselves out of some jams before, particularly Smash's steroid use and that whole business with the ineligible Voodoo. So I'm not quitting, because I think it's possible to deal with this storyline in an honest and affecting way.
I have faith, and hope -- what can I say? This team gave me a full season's worth of mostly good stuff. The 80% of this show that is fantastic is among the best there is, and even the 20% that's stupid is better than most. Go Panthers!
(spoilers)
So, last week I tried to convince you to watch Friday Night Lights, and I really hope you did.
Now, I'm hoping you'll stick around for the rest of the season, because the season two premiere, "Last Days of Summer," may not have been what you signed up for, especially if you were already a fan.
Click here to read the rest.
A lot of people have complained, a lot, about the character betrayals and set-ups this episode threw at us, and I can understand that. I'm not ready to quit, though, because I well remember how often the writing staff dug itself into a pit only to somehow get itself out again in just a few nimble episodes. So, here's the rundown:
The Taylors: by far still the best thing on television now, and possibly ever. Tami goes into labor unexpectedly, three weeks away from her due date; Coach has to fly back from Austin and gets there just in the nick of time. When we last saw this couple, Panthers had just won State, Tami had told Eric about her pregnancy, and Eric had accepted a job as the quarterback coach at fictional TMU in Austin. Eric wanted to move the family up so they could all be together, Tami insisted that she and Julie stay. Tami, because she loved her job as a guidance counselor and felt she was making a real contribution to the town, and Julie so she could have some stability for a few years before she graduated high school.
Apparently, Eric had been coming home for the weekend every two or three weeks, or maybe there were longer stretches in between. This long-distance commuter marriage/family situation would be enough to make anyone crazy, and it has had its effects on Julie, who while not exactly unhappy with Matt Saracen, is wondering Is this all there is? This can't be all there is! Julie's scene with Tami at the pool is marvelously underwritten. There's no need for dialog to convey exactly what Julie -- and every other teen at the pool -- is thinking: There's Mrs. Coach, hugely pregnant, living proof that she has sex with Coach! Every guy is thinking how lucky Coach is, because Tami is hot, and every girl -- except Julie -- is thinking she wouldn't mind bearing Coach's babies. Julie, meanwhile, wants to die, because she's a teenager and she does not want to think about her parents having sex, because it's just too gross to contemplate. All of this gets communicated through facial expressions and body language and tone of voice, and it's completely brilliant.
Connie Britton has an Emmy reel already, from that pitch-perfect scene with Julie at the pool to holding back tears when Eric has to return to Austin, only to completely collapse as soon as she hears the click of the door. Here's the thing with Tami: she knows that staying in Dillon was her idea, that Eric never wanted it, and now she's regretting that decision even though she will never be able to admit that to anyone, ever herself. She promised Eric she could do it, and so she will.
Meanwhile, Coach is trying to figure out what the heck he's doing with his family, including his new baby, hours away from where he works. That kind of divided life ages you quickly, and he looked worn out even before the baby was born. This life is weighing on him. I know he hates it, but he promised he would endure it because Tami asked him to, and she promised him they could do it, together. Then Gracie comes three weeks early (we'll cut them a ton of slack for not casting a smaller baby -- it's impossible to get newborns), at a time of the year when the coaches are establishing their teams and everything. Eric has to go if he's going to keep his job.
I've always hated -- in real life or on film -- any dialog containing the words I have no choice, because there's always a choice. When Eric says it, what he means is, My choice is between my job and my family, and if I don't have a job, that's the biggest betrayal of my family I could ever commit. The choice has been made; if Eric's not working, there's no income. And if he walks away from this job, the odds of him getting another approach zero very quickly. Still, I hated hearing him say it, convincing himself that it was true. And Tami didn't argue.
The Coach/Julie scenes were right up there with the Coach/Tami scenes, ranging from frustration and anger (on both parts) right up through forgiveness and love. Julie was doing a lot of acting out in this episode, especially with the passive-aggressive stuff like not cleaning up the house, and going out on her little sister's first day home. But she was so miserable, all those things were literal cries for help. When her dad came and rescued her in the car, and they talked, really talked, you could see her relaxing back into her love for and faith in him, and their family. The next day, with the tiniest of nods, Tami called Eric's attention to Julie washing dishes, unbidden by anyone. The contrast of how good and right everything is when they are together and how miserable they are apart can be seen in the difference in the family vibe at the beginning of the episode and at the end. Family life is a constant series of negotiations and compromises, but if a major player is absent a majority of the time, everything gets skewed.
Matt Saracen is still a total sweetheart and I love him dearly, and I loved how he was practically aggressive in asking Julie to the party after Coach quite pointedly told him not to just stand there and watch it happen. I expect (hope) now that Julie's eyes have been opened re: the Swede (cute, but way too old for her), she'll be much nicer to Matt. I've read elsewhere that Matt could do better than Julie, and I suppose that's true; she is a bit whiny and hasn't been very nice to him lately. But he loves her, and understands the pain of separation and family responsibilities -- Julie should let Matt help her cope, instead of shutting him out.
Talk of Saracen of course brings us to the indomitable Landry, who is, somewhat improbably, still friends with Tyra, and trying out for the football team in an effort to win the respect of his dad, not to mention the admiration of Tyra. We haven't met Landry's father yet, so who's to say the ploy won't work, but with respect to Tyra, Landry doesn't get that she likes him because he's not a football player. Jesse Plemons has the build for football, so it's not completely unbelievable when he makes the team, but I'm a little disappointed that Landry's abandoned his counter-cultural hatred of sports. On the other hand, Landry is Saracen's best friend, and Saracen is QB1, so Landry really can't be a big sports-hater after all, can he?
Let's address the murder, shall we? I'm not going to talk about previous versions or any of that crap; the only thing that's "real" in the universe of the show is what NBC broadcast, which is that Landry picked up the pipe and attacked Tyra's would-be rapist from behind, while he was walking away, and Landry hit the man again once he was down. There's no spinning this, it was murder. I think he could reasonably plead temporary insanity but there's no question that it was murder.
So, having murdered the creep, Landry freaks out and Tyra is no help whatsoever. They don't, apparently, call 911, when it would've been so easy to lie and say that Landry whacked the guy while he was attacking Tyra, that would've removed any thought of murder, and there would be no reason for anyone to suspect they lied, anyway. We really don't know what they did, though. Yes, we saw them driving to the bridge, and we got shots of the rushing waters, but did they dump the body? Would they really be that dumb? Hello, the guy's car is still parked at the convenience store.
The only thing I can say is: in real life, people do panic and do stupid things. Also, in this show, the writers have the characters do stupid things, like having Smash lead all the black players off the team while they were in the playoffs, just to impress Waverly. That was stupid, and a betrayal of his character; if you ask me, the one thing Smash understands is the importance of football to Dillon and to his own future, and that kind of showboating maneuver, especially over a trumped-up "offense" supposedly perpetrated by a coach he had worked with for years, was ridiculous. So I hated that plotline, although I did love how they resolved it: Corrina, Smash's mother, gave him a good talking-to and straightened him out, and he called off the strike.
It was stupid of Tim Riggins to start sleeping with his 30-something neighbor, too; when last we saw them, she had kicked him out of her bed and, given Tim's current drunken state, she has kept him away. Tim needs someone to anchor him, and without Tyra or Lyla or neighbor lady, he's toast. I've seen particular complaints about Tim's backsliding, but given his character, it makes a lot of sense to me.
Lyla Garrity, born again? Not such an angel, though -- I cracked up at her scene with Tim ("Enjoy your depravity!") and the "blessing" she said for grace, archly telling off her mother's would-be boyfriend and her mom for wearing "skinny jeans." She's every bit as much of a control freak as ever, only now she has Jesus on her side, Lord help us all. And Lyla's parents are obviously still mired in their breakup, with Buddy still sleeping at the dealership, and snooping around his kids' afterschool activities.
Poor Buddy, his life completely sucks: the new coach won't even let him watch practices. Of course we're meant to detest the new coach, who in real life would swearing a blue streak at his boys, but since this is not HBO, has to make do with the lamest swear-free rants I've yet to hear. Jason Street, looking fit and enjoying his coaching job, can see where New Coach is going to have problems that Eric Taylor never did. I kind of like that New Coach is a hardass, but the problem is, he's a hardass even when he doesn't need to be, and it was over-the-top to accuse Jason of being a mascot.
We can easily read into this situation how things will go, eventually: Dillon hates the New Coach, Coach Taylor hates being so far away from his family, New Coach is let go for some pretext, Taylor is brought back in. How many episodes will this take? I know a lot of fans want Coach Taylor back in Dillon asap, and wish he were already there, but I'm not one of them.
Here's what I'm hoping: Coach Taylor sticks with his team at TMU for the entire season there, and somehow manages the bouncing back and forth between Austin and Dillon. Anything less than that, the writers better have something mock-proof to justify him leaving any sooner. In the real world, that's the way things work. He'd have to stick it out at least a year before he could leave with any credibility or hope of getting a job anywhere else.
As for the murder plot, I have no idea where they're going with that, and I'm scared for both Tyra and Landry. They are two likable characters and I want them to succeed, but again, in real life, sometimes good people get screwed over, and sometimes good people are screwed over by their own very bad decisions. People are freaking out about this scenario because they love Tyra and Landry, and I understand that, but this show is not afraid to show that even good people make mistakes, and good people often fail.
I've read complaints that the murder took viewers out the story, and made the show less real, more tv-drama. These complaints have validity, but since the murder and its aftermath took up so little of the premiere episode, and we don't really know what happened, we're just going to have to wait and see how the writers handle this. I've seen them write themselves out of some jams before, particularly Smash's steroid use and that whole business with the ineligible Voodoo. So I'm not quitting, because I think it's possible to deal with this storyline in an honest and affecting way.
I have faith, and hope -- what can I say? This team gave me a full season's worth of mostly good stuff. The 80% of this show that is fantastic is among the best there is, and even the 20% that's stupid is better than most. Go Panthers!
Friday, October 05, 2007
Are you watching Friday Night Lights? Why not?
Friday Night Lights, NBC's exceptional exploration of life in the football-obsessed small town of Dillon, TX, debuted last year to critical acclaim and mediocre ratings. It barely managed to survive its first year of schedule changes and emerged still much beloved by its tiny fan base, but seemingly rooted in the ratings cellar. I bet I know why you're not watching, and I hope I can convince you to at least give it a shot. Head over to The House Next Door for my responses to the top ten reasons you're not watching FNL.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
talk talk talk
Spent the day on the phone, or felt like it. Setting up appointments, figuring out how certain things are going to work, whatever.
It was a productive day, I suppose: had my blood drawn (only 3 sticks! w00t!) post office, grocery store, set up a birthday party, RSVP'd to another, was interviewed, read and wrote chatty emails...
Some days, I think there have been too many words.
TV was underwhelming this evening: Lost, meh. Lots of stuff happened, but I notice, once again, that it's simultaneously too much talk and too little actual content. Makes me crazy, or would, if I let it.
I'm suspended somewhere between disbelief and irritation over Friday Night Lights, because, frankly, in the second round of the playoffs, in a town as football-crazy as Dillon, TX, there is no way that all those black players are going to walk out of practice no matter what dumber than dumb comments the assistant coach makes. Not. Going. To. Happen.
Aside from that, the storyline with the powderpuff football game was adorable. My heart completed melted watching the Coach actually getting to coach his daughter. And poor Tami, thinking that a "dialog" would be productive! She's so sweet and naive... and so, so stupid. How could she not know it would degenerate into a huge mess? That, however was a misstep that I could buy, unlike the racial-tension-crap they're foisting on us in the main plotline.
These boys, most of them, have worked for and with this coach for years, they know him -- and this is how they react? What kind of statement are they making here? What possible good is going to come of this? If the black kids won't play, then the white ones will -- and then what? The black kids look like spoiled brats to a lot of people, except the few who appreciate that they're standing on some supposed principal. Well, how about some honest conversation before taking such an extreme stance, huh Smash? When Mac shut Smash down, Smash could've gone to Taylor with his grievances, but chose not to -- why is that, again?
It's completely bogus that Smash leads the black members of the team in a walk-out just so he can get into Waverly's pants. Smash was right to call her racist, in insisting on different behavior from blacks and whites in the same situation. Shut up, Waverly! Too much talk, too much indignation, not enough thinking-through of the consequences.
Also: yes, it sucked that Mama Smash's loan approval was pulled, but she herself admitted that they would only be able to afford that new house if she never got sick or no one ever had an accident. That's exactly the kind of loan a bank doesn't want to give to anyone. With a Mama so smart I have to wonder whether the various traumas that football has visited upon Smash's head have rendered him completely stupid (the steroid use seems to be evidence of this), or whether he's just an unfortunate loser in the brains category of the genetic lottery. I know, I'm being very harsh, but the kid has just about destroyed the one thing that he had previously held most dear: his team. It's just ugly.
On the upside, the preview for next week's episode was brilliant, promising lots of Coach-n-Tami. Yay!
It was a productive day, I suppose: had my blood drawn (only 3 sticks! w00t!) post office, grocery store, set up a birthday party, RSVP'd to another, was interviewed, read and wrote chatty emails...
Some days, I think there have been too many words.
TV was underwhelming this evening: Lost, meh. Lots of stuff happened, but I notice, once again, that it's simultaneously too much talk and too little actual content. Makes me crazy, or would, if I let it.
I'm suspended somewhere between disbelief and irritation over Friday Night Lights, because, frankly, in the second round of the playoffs, in a town as football-crazy as Dillon, TX, there is no way that all those black players are going to walk out of practice no matter what dumber than dumb comments the assistant coach makes. Not. Going. To. Happen.
Aside from that, the storyline with the powderpuff football game was adorable. My heart completed melted watching the Coach actually getting to coach his daughter. And poor Tami, thinking that a "dialog" would be productive! She's so sweet and naive... and so, so stupid. How could she not know it would degenerate into a huge mess? That, however was a misstep that I could buy, unlike the racial-tension-crap they're foisting on us in the main plotline.
These boys, most of them, have worked for and with this coach for years, they know him -- and this is how they react? What kind of statement are they making here? What possible good is going to come of this? If the black kids won't play, then the white ones will -- and then what? The black kids look like spoiled brats to a lot of people, except the few who appreciate that they're standing on some supposed principal. Well, how about some honest conversation before taking such an extreme stance, huh Smash? When Mac shut Smash down, Smash could've gone to Taylor with his grievances, but chose not to -- why is that, again?
It's completely bogus that Smash leads the black members of the team in a walk-out just so he can get into Waverly's pants. Smash was right to call her racist, in insisting on different behavior from blacks and whites in the same situation. Shut up, Waverly! Too much talk, too much indignation, not enough thinking-through of the consequences.
Also: yes, it sucked that Mama Smash's loan approval was pulled, but she herself admitted that they would only be able to afford that new house if she never got sick or no one ever had an accident. That's exactly the kind of loan a bank doesn't want to give to anyone. With a Mama so smart I have to wonder whether the various traumas that football has visited upon Smash's head have rendered him completely stupid (the steroid use seems to be evidence of this), or whether he's just an unfortunate loser in the brains category of the genetic lottery. I know, I'm being very harsh, but the kid has just about destroyed the one thing that he had previously held most dear: his team. It's just ugly.
On the upside, the preview for next week's episode was brilliant, promising lots of Coach-n-Tami. Yay!
Monday, January 08, 2007
Friday Night Lights: more of the same... yay!
I can't keep up with everything that's going on these days, so my informal reviews of Friday Night Lights will be even more haphazard than before, and in fact may disappear altogether if I can't make time to write about it.
That most recent episode, "Nevermind," gives an exceptionally strong episode after a couple of relatively weak ones -- relative being the operative word there, since a "bad" episode of FNL towers above the typical televised dreck out there these days. (Although, to be sure, the quality-to-dreck ratio is increasing every year, miraculously.)
There was a lot of pain and frustration in this episode, and not typical teen angst crap, either: no whining about not getting to use the car or stay out late, but real pain -- a father who can't see how his indifference is destroying his son, and real frustration -- a young man who can't do anything he used to, and has to learn to deal with that.
But balancing all the pain were the brilliant scenes with Landry and Riggins, slogging through Of Mice and Men and forging some kind of bizarre friendship on route to a B- for Riggins' oral report.
The writers are once again trying to snow us with Lyla's purity and overall goodness, in spite of her previous ruthlessness in pursuing Riggins. Has she paid enough for her transgressions? It seems that Jason will forgive her. For what it's worth, I agree with Tami's statement, "There's no shame in forgiveness," up to a point, and that point is where the person you're forgiving continues to play you for a fool. I am starting to believe that Lyla is a headcase and needs serious psychological counseling, above the level that Tami could provide. I wonder when Jason will figure it out.
Matt Saracen just breaks my heart, and I wanted to smack his father upside the head and tell him to stop undercutting his son. Matt had a done a fine job leading the team through the season to date and yet his dad still has to come up with the confidence killing "Don't go folding under the pressure now, son," spew -- which, of course, pretty much crushed Matt.
I don't believe for a minute that Matt's going to Oklahoma, so we'll just have to see how that works out. I mean, what would Landry do without Saracen? Riggins will only tolerate so much of him, after all.
There was no Smash this week, and no Tyra; didn't miss 'em, but I'll be happy to see them when they return. The Taylors continue to be the most realistic married couple on television, and the tussle over bringing out that last trash can was hysterical -- but who ever just throws their trash in loose like that? That'll get you critters for sure. That's the kind of gaffe that's beneath this show, but since it happens very rarely I'm more than willing to give it a pass.
Will Coach Taylor make it to UT as QB coach? I think that depends on whether or not NBC greenlights another season. I was beyond psyched that NBC picked up the full season this year, but whether or not they'll fund another year for an under-performer in the ratings is questionable. I'm not sure how expensive this show is to produce -- no special effects, but a huge cast and lots of locations, so I'm guessing it's pricey, and of course that factors into the decision. If they can maintain this standard and finish out this season, telling one set of complete stories, I think they will have produced some of the best television, ever.
Obviously I hope they do get picked up for another season, or seasons. But I don't want that to happen if it means morphing the show into something it so far hasn't been: a teen high school drama. For now, I'm enjoying what we have.
That most recent episode, "Nevermind," gives an exceptionally strong episode after a couple of relatively weak ones -- relative being the operative word there, since a "bad" episode of FNL towers above the typical televised dreck out there these days. (Although, to be sure, the quality-to-dreck ratio is increasing every year, miraculously.)
There was a lot of pain and frustration in this episode, and not typical teen angst crap, either: no whining about not getting to use the car or stay out late, but real pain -- a father who can't see how his indifference is destroying his son, and real frustration -- a young man who can't do anything he used to, and has to learn to deal with that.
But balancing all the pain were the brilliant scenes with Landry and Riggins, slogging through Of Mice and Men and forging some kind of bizarre friendship on route to a B- for Riggins' oral report.
The writers are once again trying to snow us with Lyla's purity and overall goodness, in spite of her previous ruthlessness in pursuing Riggins. Has she paid enough for her transgressions? It seems that Jason will forgive her. For what it's worth, I agree with Tami's statement, "There's no shame in forgiveness," up to a point, and that point is where the person you're forgiving continues to play you for a fool. I am starting to believe that Lyla is a headcase and needs serious psychological counseling, above the level that Tami could provide. I wonder when Jason will figure it out.
Matt Saracen just breaks my heart, and I wanted to smack his father upside the head and tell him to stop undercutting his son. Matt had a done a fine job leading the team through the season to date and yet his dad still has to come up with the confidence killing "Don't go folding under the pressure now, son," spew -- which, of course, pretty much crushed Matt.
I don't believe for a minute that Matt's going to Oklahoma, so we'll just have to see how that works out. I mean, what would Landry do without Saracen? Riggins will only tolerate so much of him, after all.
There was no Smash this week, and no Tyra; didn't miss 'em, but I'll be happy to see them when they return. The Taylors continue to be the most realistic married couple on television, and the tussle over bringing out that last trash can was hysterical -- but who ever just throws their trash in loose like that? That'll get you critters for sure. That's the kind of gaffe that's beneath this show, but since it happens very rarely I'm more than willing to give it a pass.
Will Coach Taylor make it to UT as QB coach? I think that depends on whether or not NBC greenlights another season. I was beyond psyched that NBC picked up the full season this year, but whether or not they'll fund another year for an under-performer in the ratings is questionable. I'm not sure how expensive this show is to produce -- no special effects, but a huge cast and lots of locations, so I'm guessing it's pricey, and of course that factors into the decision. If they can maintain this standard and finish out this season, telling one set of complete stories, I think they will have produced some of the best television, ever.
Obviously I hope they do get picked up for another season, or seasons. But I don't want that to happen if it means morphing the show into something it so far hasn't been: a teen high school drama. For now, I'm enjoying what we have.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Friday Night Lights: sweet, salty, bitter, sour, and strange
Episode 1.9, Full Hearts
(spoilers)
In Asian cuisines, the success of many dishes hinges on how well they balance each of the five tastes. Friday Night Lights is the television equivalent of a perfectly prepared and presented szechuan banquet.
They're toning down a lot of the early quirks that made the show somewhat off-putting: the close-ups aren't as extreme, prolonged, or frequent, and the documentary-style jerky camera stuff is reserved for travel shots, practice, or games. Yes, they've taken the edge off a bit, but if it brings more eyes to the show, and those eyes stay to watch, that would be a good thing. I'm not complaining.
I'm especially not complaining because this episode surprised me more than once, without betraying a single character or anything even approaching a wrong note*. The fact that so many stories were advanced or resolved in this single episode is a jaw-dropping accomplishment. (I contrast this program to the two "blockbuster" movies we've rented recently, which resemble nothing more than bloated fish carcasses by comparison.)
I liked that Tim and Lyla's affair came to light, and that everyone around them punished them for it. Adults (especially those without children of their own) forget how harshly judgemental teenagers are. Even if our culture glorifies adultery (Desperate Housewives, etc), these kids know that Lyla and Tim hurt Jason terribly, and deserved to catch some flak for it. Maybe not as much crap as the pair actually had to endure, but at least some comeuppance.
I was surprised, too, that Smash's big sister figured out that he's doing steroids. What a relief that someone with a brain is looking out for him, and will hopefully prevent him from self-destructing. Yes, the "daddy had feet of clay" storyline was a bit hackneyed, but I was willing to forgive it because I love the Williams as a family, and because the writers have established the characters just enough for me to buy that flight-from-the-hood story.
There's just too much to talk about. How strange is it that Buddy Garrity teamed up successfully with Tami (albeit at the mayor's suggestion -- complete with hilarious wardrobe recommendations), and how fantastic that Buddy actually took Tami's advice and didn't try to fix Lyla's problem when she finally admitted it? Please, show, don't make me like Buddy Garrity -- but I'm OK with despising him a little less.
Jason and Lyla, Jason and Coach, Jason and Tyra -- who is on pace to take over Julie's number two spot on my favorite female characters list -- Jason and his O-line; every scene a struggle of one kind or another. The guy is not a saint and he's not a jerk, either. I do hope that he can forgive Tim soon, but I'm hoping he freezes Lyla out permanently. Or at least for a good long time.
Coach Taylor didn't have a single sustained scene, which highlights yet again the essential ensemble nature of this program. It's not a Kyle Chandler vehicle, although he is very much the lynchpin of the proceedings. And even though he didn't have any extended dialog, the words the writers do give him say plenty: You don't have to be alone with this, son, for example, or the fantastic sarcastic You want a beer?
Which brings me to, at last, the lovely beginnings between Matt Saracen and Julie Taylor, and the awkward perfection of their first disasterous date, and the even more glorious, yet still somehow awkward, first kiss: (sigh). I love these two kids. Saracen caring for his grandmother really is the "real Matt Saracen," and how weirdly lucky it was for Julie to get to see that. Saracen sucks at bluster and can't pull off the "QB1" schtick no matter how much he tries -- for once Landry's advice (ditch it, play up the vulnerability) was spot on.
Coming right round again, though, I have to say I think that Landry was my favorite in this episode; how can anyone resist a guy who exhorts you not to blame the couture?
Thank you, writers and producers, for making this show about more than a football team and their coach. The surrounding characters round out all the flavors.
---
(*) Lyla putting a supposedly hot-from-the-oven pan of muffins directly on the laminate counter -- which in real life would scorch -- was the kind of gaffe I'm quite willing to forgive.
(spoilers)
In Asian cuisines, the success of many dishes hinges on how well they balance each of the five tastes. Friday Night Lights is the television equivalent of a perfectly prepared and presented szechuan banquet.
They're toning down a lot of the early quirks that made the show somewhat off-putting: the close-ups aren't as extreme, prolonged, or frequent, and the documentary-style jerky camera stuff is reserved for travel shots, practice, or games. Yes, they've taken the edge off a bit, but if it brings more eyes to the show, and those eyes stay to watch, that would be a good thing. I'm not complaining.
I'm especially not complaining because this episode surprised me more than once, without betraying a single character or anything even approaching a wrong note*. The fact that so many stories were advanced or resolved in this single episode is a jaw-dropping accomplishment. (I contrast this program to the two "blockbuster" movies we've rented recently, which resemble nothing more than bloated fish carcasses by comparison.)
I liked that Tim and Lyla's affair came to light, and that everyone around them punished them for it. Adults (especially those without children of their own) forget how harshly judgemental teenagers are. Even if our culture glorifies adultery (Desperate Housewives, etc), these kids know that Lyla and Tim hurt Jason terribly, and deserved to catch some flak for it. Maybe not as much crap as the pair actually had to endure, but at least some comeuppance.
I was surprised, too, that Smash's big sister figured out that he's doing steroids. What a relief that someone with a brain is looking out for him, and will hopefully prevent him from self-destructing. Yes, the "daddy had feet of clay" storyline was a bit hackneyed, but I was willing to forgive it because I love the Williams as a family, and because the writers have established the characters just enough for me to buy that flight-from-the-hood story.
There's just too much to talk about. How strange is it that Buddy Garrity teamed up successfully with Tami (albeit at the mayor's suggestion -- complete with hilarious wardrobe recommendations), and how fantastic that Buddy actually took Tami's advice and didn't try to fix Lyla's problem when she finally admitted it? Please, show, don't make me like Buddy Garrity -- but I'm OK with despising him a little less.
Jason and Lyla, Jason and Coach, Jason and Tyra -- who is on pace to take over Julie's number two spot on my favorite female characters list -- Jason and his O-line; every scene a struggle of one kind or another. The guy is not a saint and he's not a jerk, either. I do hope that he can forgive Tim soon, but I'm hoping he freezes Lyla out permanently. Or at least for a good long time.
Coach Taylor didn't have a single sustained scene, which highlights yet again the essential ensemble nature of this program. It's not a Kyle Chandler vehicle, although he is very much the lynchpin of the proceedings. And even though he didn't have any extended dialog, the words the writers do give him say plenty: You don't have to be alone with this, son, for example, or the fantastic sarcastic You want a beer?
Which brings me to, at last, the lovely beginnings between Matt Saracen and Julie Taylor, and the awkward perfection of their first disasterous date, and the even more glorious, yet still somehow awkward, first kiss: (sigh). I love these two kids. Saracen caring for his grandmother really is the "real Matt Saracen," and how weirdly lucky it was for Julie to get to see that. Saracen sucks at bluster and can't pull off the "QB1" schtick no matter how much he tries -- for once Landry's advice (ditch it, play up the vulnerability) was spot on.
Coming right round again, though, I have to say I think that Landry was my favorite in this episode; how can anyone resist a guy who exhorts you not to blame the couture?
Thank you, writers and producers, for making this show about more than a football team and their coach. The surrounding characters round out all the flavors.
---
(*) Lyla putting a supposedly hot-from-the-oven pan of muffins directly on the laminate counter -- which in real life would scorch -- was the kind of gaffe I'm quite willing to forgive.
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Friday Night Lights: bread, meat, and cheese
Episode 1.8, Crossing the Line
(spoilers)
Friday Night Lights is a terrific example of new-era dramas, because stuff happens, a lot of stuff, in every episode. So, in "Crossing the Line," we have Jason confronting Riggins and dumping Lyla, Riggins hooking up with Tyra and having a knock-down, drag-out, up-end-the-big-TV fight with his brother, Smash sweet-talking customers and his mama, and continuing the 'roid fest with the help of a female bodybuilder with as much muscle as Riggins... and Saracen somehow in the middle of a lot of this, wanting a date with Julie. And Julie thinking about it, and her parents having those typical parental moments trying basically to talk her out of it, so that when Julie says yes they radiate a sense of both failure and resignation: I knew this day would come.
That's the bread and meat of this show, the real reactions, the impeccable sets and costuming, the looks and pauses that say so much more than a line of dialog would. And all that's good, but sometimes I wonder.
I wonder about the cheese -- I mean, does Smash have to literally be shifty-eyed? Wouldn't he be smarter than that? No, I guess not, hence the steroids. But sometimes this show makes me cringe, like when the congregration at Smash's small, obviously not-well-off church passes the collection basket to pay for Smash's "SAT prep course," which is another code name for steroids. And then I have to cringe again when the kid actually uses the money to buy the drugs. What, four weeks of steroids are going to be enough to make a change? Or is it just that four weeks of steroids will see him through most of the football season? I can't figure out Smash's logic, probably because there isn't any.
I continue to adore Jason's story and his development, heavenly choirs sang when he dumped Lyla, but I wonder how long that will last. I wonder what will happen to Lyla now that Jason has rejected her, since she has spent her entire adolescent existence planning on becoming Mrs. Jason Street, wife of the football star. Clearly, the latter half of that identity has been off the table since Jason's accident, and now it's looking like the former isn't gonna happen either. This is exactly the kind of pressure that a girl like Lyla should thrive on, though. If the writers have her crumble, I will be most ticked. I won't be surprised if she crawls back to Tim for "comfort." I hope he kicks her ass to the door.
The Taylors had much reduced roles in this episode, but that was OK. I adored the Coach's speech to his daughter during their ping-pong not-game, so brutal and so honest and so "Ohmygod, Dad, shut up!" The chemistry between the Taylors and their daughter is fantastic, which was spectacularly contrasted with the barely functional relationship between the two Riggins brothers when they all sat down to dinner. The Riggins were like aliens wandering an extraterresterial landscape in the Taylor home.
Which brings me to Saracen, who'll mumble and stumble over every word when he's talking to a girl but can lay it on the line for Smash: If you lose this job, I lose my job, too, because I put you in for this. I thought we were friends. Saracen may not be the most articulate guy, but he's clearly not stupid, either. I wanted to shake him and say, "Don't listen to Smash, he treats girls like trash! You know better than that!" But I have a sense that he already knows that, and if he even thinks about telling Julie "what she wants," Julie will either a) laugh at him or b) walk away, or possibly c) a), then b). Julie can hold her own.
Can't wait for the big date! I suppose it's ridiculous that the Julie-Saracen thing is what has me most engaged, for now. I'm looking forward to seeing where Jason goes now, and what happens to Lyla, Tim, and Tyra. But the Smash storyline seems the most rote -- I foresee 'roid rages, fallout, consequences of bad decisions. Maybe the writers will throw us a curve and Smash will get away with it. I doubt it, though, way too policially incorrect to show illegal drugs actually benefitting someone, even though everyone who uses that type of drugs does so specifically to improve their performance. Come to think of it, that's about the only thing they could do that would redeem this story. We know steroids work, and we know hundreds, if not thousands, of athletes use them and get away with it every day. Maybe Smash will be one of them, but he'll still have some consequences to deal with.
(spoilers)
Friday Night Lights is a terrific example of new-era dramas, because stuff happens, a lot of stuff, in every episode. So, in "Crossing the Line," we have Jason confronting Riggins and dumping Lyla, Riggins hooking up with Tyra and having a knock-down, drag-out, up-end-the-big-TV fight with his brother, Smash sweet-talking customers and his mama, and continuing the 'roid fest with the help of a female bodybuilder with as much muscle as Riggins... and Saracen somehow in the middle of a lot of this, wanting a date with Julie. And Julie thinking about it, and her parents having those typical parental moments trying basically to talk her out of it, so that when Julie says yes they radiate a sense of both failure and resignation: I knew this day would come.
That's the bread and meat of this show, the real reactions, the impeccable sets and costuming, the looks and pauses that say so much more than a line of dialog would. And all that's good, but sometimes I wonder.
I wonder about the cheese -- I mean, does Smash have to literally be shifty-eyed? Wouldn't he be smarter than that? No, I guess not, hence the steroids. But sometimes this show makes me cringe, like when the congregration at Smash's small, obviously not-well-off church passes the collection basket to pay for Smash's "SAT prep course," which is another code name for steroids. And then I have to cringe again when the kid actually uses the money to buy the drugs. What, four weeks of steroids are going to be enough to make a change? Or is it just that four weeks of steroids will see him through most of the football season? I can't figure out Smash's logic, probably because there isn't any.
I continue to adore Jason's story and his development, heavenly choirs sang when he dumped Lyla, but I wonder how long that will last. I wonder what will happen to Lyla now that Jason has rejected her, since she has spent her entire adolescent existence planning on becoming Mrs. Jason Street, wife of the football star. Clearly, the latter half of that identity has been off the table since Jason's accident, and now it's looking like the former isn't gonna happen either. This is exactly the kind of pressure that a girl like Lyla should thrive on, though. If the writers have her crumble, I will be most ticked. I won't be surprised if she crawls back to Tim for "comfort." I hope he kicks her ass to the door.
The Taylors had much reduced roles in this episode, but that was OK. I adored the Coach's speech to his daughter during their ping-pong not-game, so brutal and so honest and so "Ohmygod, Dad, shut up!" The chemistry between the Taylors and their daughter is fantastic, which was spectacularly contrasted with the barely functional relationship between the two Riggins brothers when they all sat down to dinner. The Riggins were like aliens wandering an extraterresterial landscape in the Taylor home.
Which brings me to Saracen, who'll mumble and stumble over every word when he's talking to a girl but can lay it on the line for Smash: If you lose this job, I lose my job, too, because I put you in for this. I thought we were friends. Saracen may not be the most articulate guy, but he's clearly not stupid, either. I wanted to shake him and say, "Don't listen to Smash, he treats girls like trash! You know better than that!" But I have a sense that he already knows that, and if he even thinks about telling Julie "what she wants," Julie will either a) laugh at him or b) walk away, or possibly c) a), then b). Julie can hold her own.
Can't wait for the big date! I suppose it's ridiculous that the Julie-Saracen thing is what has me most engaged, for now. I'm looking forward to seeing where Jason goes now, and what happens to Lyla, Tim, and Tyra. But the Smash storyline seems the most rote -- I foresee 'roid rages, fallout, consequences of bad decisions. Maybe the writers will throw us a curve and Smash will get away with it. I doubt it, though, way too policially incorrect to show illegal drugs actually benefitting someone, even though everyone who uses that type of drugs does so specifically to improve their performance. Come to think of it, that's about the only thing they could do that would redeem this story. We know steroids work, and we know hundreds, if not thousands, of athletes use them and get away with it every day. Maybe Smash will be one of them, but he'll still have some consequences to deal with.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Friday Night Lights: uh-oh
Episode 1.7, Homecoming
(spoilers)
I haven't been motivated to write much of anything, and I haven't been too enchanted with anything, lately, so I kept putting off writing up last week's episode -- you know, on the off chance that I might snap out of this whatever and suddenly hear birds singing and not feel so dismal.
No luck, so here's Homecoming, which I can sum up in one simple non-verbal utterance: uh-oh.
I still love the characters, I love the way this show is put together, I especially love the acting. I love the tiny things that make everything hang together so well. The show doesn't just look real, it sounds real, too. It doesn't have one consistent soundtrack, it has audio motifs for different characters and different situations. I still really like all that.
What I'm concerned about -- what gives me the "uh-oh" feeling -- is the predictability. Too many things were too easy, or too easy to call, in this episode. Tyra's party was a huge hit! Who woulda thunk? Smash chokes under pressure -- what a surprise! "We're concerned about your size and strength" are code words for "start shooting up steroids, now." Gee, really? Riggins gets off the booze, goes for a run and lifts weights, and magically, he's the go-to guy for the win. Yay, Tim!
It didn't all suck. I'm in awe of Jason Street's physical decline even while he's remastering the limbs that still function: his face is going slack and pale, and he's losing his pretty-boy look. I'm also loving how Jason is returning to form and thinking about his future and what his life will be like. He always was a planner, and he's a smart kid, but there's a lot of confusing information to process right now. I think the writers are handling his character very well.
I'm starting to hate Lyla with the intensity of a thousand white-hot suns, but then I realize she's just a TV character and I need to get out more -- but seriously, that girl is e-v-i-l (only small letters because she's not really that bad). Or maybe she just uses baby talk too much. (That could be it.) "Don't hate me, Tim," made me want to puke. And give Riggins a hug, the big idiot. Is it really his fault that he's in love with Street's girl? Yes, but I'll give him a pass because he only recently sobered up, and I'm hoping that he'll figure out what a snake Lyla is now that he's not in an altered mental state all the time.
The former-QB plot was another in which I felt I was dodging anvils. Big success in high school translates automatically to big screwup once out of Dillon's protective enivrons -- of course. It's too trite to even call it a cliche, but Kyle Chandler was awesome anyway. Tami's commentary on the situation was spot-on if cliched, and nicely contrasted with her own comfy life: Hey, I didn't fall into that trap and neither did you. Tami perhaps sees that she has a calling to bring these football stars down a few pegs before they all implode, post-graduation. Or, in Smash's case, post-Homecoming game.
Finally, I am so rooting for Saracen and Julie. The asking-out scene was classic Saracen, who didn't even let Julie get a word in edge-wise. Here's hoping 1) she said "yes" and 2) we get to see them on a date, soon. Man, Coach Taylor's pre-date speech to Saracen should be one for the ages.
So: it sucked, but not completely. And it was miles above last week's Battlestar Galactica, which was the worst episode this season, possibly ever. Yes, I know, I'm approaching the "damning with faint praise" level here, but it's all I got, this week.
(spoilers)
I haven't been motivated to write much of anything, and I haven't been too enchanted with anything, lately, so I kept putting off writing up last week's episode -- you know, on the off chance that I might snap out of this whatever and suddenly hear birds singing and not feel so dismal.
No luck, so here's Homecoming, which I can sum up in one simple non-verbal utterance: uh-oh.
I still love the characters, I love the way this show is put together, I especially love the acting. I love the tiny things that make everything hang together so well. The show doesn't just look real, it sounds real, too. It doesn't have one consistent soundtrack, it has audio motifs for different characters and different situations. I still really like all that.
What I'm concerned about -- what gives me the "uh-oh" feeling -- is the predictability. Too many things were too easy, or too easy to call, in this episode. Tyra's party was a huge hit! Who woulda thunk? Smash chokes under pressure -- what a surprise! "We're concerned about your size and strength" are code words for "start shooting up steroids, now." Gee, really? Riggins gets off the booze, goes for a run and lifts weights, and magically, he's the go-to guy for the win. Yay, Tim!
It didn't all suck. I'm in awe of Jason Street's physical decline even while he's remastering the limbs that still function: his face is going slack and pale, and he's losing his pretty-boy look. I'm also loving how Jason is returning to form and thinking about his future and what his life will be like. He always was a planner, and he's a smart kid, but there's a lot of confusing information to process right now. I think the writers are handling his character very well.
I'm starting to hate Lyla with the intensity of a thousand white-hot suns, but then I realize she's just a TV character and I need to get out more -- but seriously, that girl is e-v-i-l (only small letters because she's not really that bad). Or maybe she just uses baby talk too much. (That could be it.) "Don't hate me, Tim," made me want to puke. And give Riggins a hug, the big idiot. Is it really his fault that he's in love with Street's girl? Yes, but I'll give him a pass because he only recently sobered up, and I'm hoping that he'll figure out what a snake Lyla is now that he's not in an altered mental state all the time.
The former-QB plot was another in which I felt I was dodging anvils. Big success in high school translates automatically to big screwup once out of Dillon's protective enivrons -- of course. It's too trite to even call it a cliche, but Kyle Chandler was awesome anyway. Tami's commentary on the situation was spot-on if cliched, and nicely contrasted with her own comfy life: Hey, I didn't fall into that trap and neither did you. Tami perhaps sees that she has a calling to bring these football stars down a few pegs before they all implode, post-graduation. Or, in Smash's case, post-Homecoming game.
Finally, I am so rooting for Saracen and Julie. The asking-out scene was classic Saracen, who didn't even let Julie get a word in edge-wise. Here's hoping 1) she said "yes" and 2) we get to see them on a date, soon. Man, Coach Taylor's pre-date speech to Saracen should be one for the ages.
So: it sucked, but not completely. And it was miles above last week's Battlestar Galactica, which was the worst episode this season, possibly ever. Yes, I know, I'm approaching the "damning with faint praise" level here, but it's all I got, this week.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Friday Night Lights: Scylla, Charybdis*, all that jazz
Episode 1.6, El Accidente
(spoilers)
I don't think anyone in the real world pays attention to episode titles, but "El Accidente" encapsulates the Buddy Garrity (and all the footballers') method of spinning away anything mean, dirty, or downright illegal that will hurt their chances of winning: It was an accident.
Two parallel plotlines this week beat us over the head with the difference "doing what's right for the team" and "doing what's right." This is the ugliest that Coach Taylor has ever behaved, staunchly insisting, I won't lie about recruiting Voodoo, but then pointedly failing to pony up to the truth of the matter: Voodoo may well have been ineligible (he needed residency of a month, and we don't really know when he showed up in Dillon), and more to the point, Buddy Garrity lied in his testimony to the council. So Taylor kept his mouth shut, and seemed to get the outcome he wanted for his team.
Of course Taylor's under all sorts of pressure, and losing that win would jeopardize his job and destabilize his entire family's lives. But does that make it OK? He seems to think so, evincing a "do what you gotta do" kind of air.
Matt Saracen once again goes through a crucible of sorts, with his non-footballer friends ragging on him for "going over to the Dark Side." They have a point. When Voodoo taunts Reyes and calls him a wetback, Reyes takes out his frustrations on one of Saracen's friends, Caster, putting him in the hospital. Reyes then makes a big deal out of the fact that Caster provoked him with racist epithets... which is, of course, a lie. Reyes even manages to hold onto this lie while looking Taylor in the eye.
Now Saracen knows that Caster never went after Reyes, and doesn't have a racist bone in his body. He knows Reyes is a thug, but he's the thug that anchors the defensive line and the team needs him. It takes Saracen the better part of the episode to figure out what's right, which leads to a completely charming scene with him and Julie at the Taylor's front door. It's clear that Julie is hoping that Saracen is there to see her, and they make almost-casual small talk until Saracen asks to see Taylor. Julie's disappointment is quickly masked but there if you're looking for it (as I obviously am -- don't worry, Julie, Saracen's not letting his teammates hook him up with some rally girl, he has already told him he "has someone else in mind" for Homecoming.)
Taylor, to his credit, doesn't have to struggle with his conscience on this call at all, and boots Reyes off the team. This was a much-appreciated turn, because the Tami-Coach discussions over the Reyes incident featured Tami defending Caster and questioning Reyes' story, and the Coach pushing back and not wanting to examine that story very closely all.
The football stuff wraps up with Buddy Garrity pissed about Reyes' status but downright frantic, because Voodoo, demoted to defense, has gone back to NOLA, and as a parting gift held an interview in which he refuted every lie that Buddy Garrity told to the council. Looks like that "W" is a goner for sure.
In the third plotline, Street tells Riggins to stop being an asshole (not in so many words, but yeah) and to help him. Riggins decides he loves Jason more than Lyla, and does: he breaks Street out for a long drive and a day on the lake. Weirdness abounds when Lyla comes along, but only for the occasional awkward moments, including the classic Lyla backing off her earlier statement of "taking all responsibility for what happened." Both of these guys should dump her, I'm telling you. Still, the day seems to be a complete success until Street sees Riggins and Lyla hugging goodbye in the parking lot. It's not a sexy hug, and they don't mack or anything, but that hug goes on way, way too long for people who aren't supposedly anything but friends -- and who, until quite recently, had nothing in common but Jason. So now Jason has something to torture himself with.
I didn't love this episode. Too many leaden plot points rained down on us, and it seems to me that the writers could start giving Saracen a break or two any day now. In real life, that kid would be suicidal. He's a sophomore and expected to lead the team on and off the field. What kid could withstand that, plus the dad in Iraq and the demented grandmother? I like Saracen, a lot. I want him to ask Julie out and have fun, and not be tortured the way he has been pretty much since the beginning of this show.
Having said all that, I'm still completely hooked here. Even the characters that get miniscule amounts of screen time -- like Tyra resisting Tami's "guidance" -- manage to be more than two-dimensional. It's a sad fact the biggest failure of characterization so far this season is Reyes, who we have never seen before and will most likely never see again. He's the cardboard cutout bogeyman of the episode, and it hurt the story. But I'll still be watching next week, and rooting for the Panthers.
(I don't really care if they win -- oh, I do for Saracen's sake, I suppose. I just don't want Taylor to get fired!)
---
* Taylor and Saracen spent most of this episode between rocks and hard places.
(spoilers)
I don't think anyone in the real world pays attention to episode titles, but "El Accidente" encapsulates the Buddy Garrity (and all the footballers') method of spinning away anything mean, dirty, or downright illegal that will hurt their chances of winning: It was an accident.
Two parallel plotlines this week beat us over the head with the difference "doing what's right for the team" and "doing what's right." This is the ugliest that Coach Taylor has ever behaved, staunchly insisting, I won't lie about recruiting Voodoo, but then pointedly failing to pony up to the truth of the matter: Voodoo may well have been ineligible (he needed residency of a month, and we don't really know when he showed up in Dillon), and more to the point, Buddy Garrity lied in his testimony to the council. So Taylor kept his mouth shut, and seemed to get the outcome he wanted for his team.
Of course Taylor's under all sorts of pressure, and losing that win would jeopardize his job and destabilize his entire family's lives. But does that make it OK? He seems to think so, evincing a "do what you gotta do" kind of air.
Matt Saracen once again goes through a crucible of sorts, with his non-footballer friends ragging on him for "going over to the Dark Side." They have a point. When Voodoo taunts Reyes and calls him a wetback, Reyes takes out his frustrations on one of Saracen's friends, Caster, putting him in the hospital. Reyes then makes a big deal out of the fact that Caster provoked him with racist epithets... which is, of course, a lie. Reyes even manages to hold onto this lie while looking Taylor in the eye.
Now Saracen knows that Caster never went after Reyes, and doesn't have a racist bone in his body. He knows Reyes is a thug, but he's the thug that anchors the defensive line and the team needs him. It takes Saracen the better part of the episode to figure out what's right, which leads to a completely charming scene with him and Julie at the Taylor's front door. It's clear that Julie is hoping that Saracen is there to see her, and they make almost-casual small talk until Saracen asks to see Taylor. Julie's disappointment is quickly masked but there if you're looking for it (as I obviously am -- don't worry, Julie, Saracen's not letting his teammates hook him up with some rally girl, he has already told him he "has someone else in mind" for Homecoming.)
Taylor, to his credit, doesn't have to struggle with his conscience on this call at all, and boots Reyes off the team. This was a much-appreciated turn, because the Tami-Coach discussions over the Reyes incident featured Tami defending Caster and questioning Reyes' story, and the Coach pushing back and not wanting to examine that story very closely all.
The football stuff wraps up with Buddy Garrity pissed about Reyes' status but downright frantic, because Voodoo, demoted to defense, has gone back to NOLA, and as a parting gift held an interview in which he refuted every lie that Buddy Garrity told to the council. Looks like that "W" is a goner for sure.
In the third plotline, Street tells Riggins to stop being an asshole (not in so many words, but yeah) and to help him. Riggins decides he loves Jason more than Lyla, and does: he breaks Street out for a long drive and a day on the lake. Weirdness abounds when Lyla comes along, but only for the occasional awkward moments, including the classic Lyla backing off her earlier statement of "taking all responsibility for what happened." Both of these guys should dump her, I'm telling you. Still, the day seems to be a complete success until Street sees Riggins and Lyla hugging goodbye in the parking lot. It's not a sexy hug, and they don't mack or anything, but that hug goes on way, way too long for people who aren't supposedly anything but friends -- and who, until quite recently, had nothing in common but Jason. So now Jason has something to torture himself with.
I didn't love this episode. Too many leaden plot points rained down on us, and it seems to me that the writers could start giving Saracen a break or two any day now. In real life, that kid would be suicidal. He's a sophomore and expected to lead the team on and off the field. What kid could withstand that, plus the dad in Iraq and the demented grandmother? I like Saracen, a lot. I want him to ask Julie out and have fun, and not be tortured the way he has been pretty much since the beginning of this show.
Having said all that, I'm still completely hooked here. Even the characters that get miniscule amounts of screen time -- like Tyra resisting Tami's "guidance" -- manage to be more than two-dimensional. It's a sad fact the biggest failure of characterization so far this season is Reyes, who we have never seen before and will most likely never see again. He's the cardboard cutout bogeyman of the episode, and it hurt the story. But I'll still be watching next week, and rooting for the Panthers.
(I don't really care if they win -- oh, I do for Saracen's sake, I suppose. I just don't want Taylor to get fired!)
---
* Taylor and Saracen spent most of this episode between rocks and hard places.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Friday Night Lights: Lyla Garrity is her father's daughter
1.5: Git'er Done
(spoilers, as usual)
Finally, some football. For a show ostensibly about high school football, there isn't a whole lot of game footage -- or practice footage, for that matter. I appreciate that, and I appreciate that when the Panthers do finally play, we don't have to slog through 20 minutes of football. The entire game gets compressed down into less than 5 minutes, and most scenes are sideline scenes or locker room scenes. It's all about the people, and not about the game -- and somehow that combination has me sitting on the edge of my seat, willing Matt Saracen to pull an impossible win from himself and his teammates.
It's a credit to this show that I both want the Panthers to win, desperately, and that I do not know whether or not they will. And when they pull off the win, I am just as happy as I would be if one of my real-life teams had won (not that that has happened any time in the recent past -- but I will always savor being at game seven of 2001 World Series, when the DBacks finally put the Yankees to rest.)
But the win comes too early in the episode, so you know we are not going to end on a high note. And just as Coach Taylor is enjoying all the congratulating back-slaps and high-fives, he's getting hauled on the carpet for a recruiting violation. Since this is the very subject he broached with Buddy Garrity when first approached about bringing Voodoo on board, Taylor has a reason to be pissed about this. And it won't just be Taylor that will be dinged if Voodoo is found ineligible: the Panthers would be stripped of their hard-fought win.
Speaking of Voodoo, his show-boating was predictable, but his "This is an arranged marriage" speech was awesome: the truth that no one wanted to articulate, but everyone acknowledged. I enjoyed Voodoo's downfall (even though it was bad for the Panthers), and I loved, loved, loved Taylor kicking his ass out of the locker room and off the team. Of course, it's likely that Voodoo himself (or his agent) called up the authorities on Taylor as payback... but that will take a few episodes to come out, if it ever does.
OK, that gets the football out of the way. What about everything else? I still love Tami, I adore the way Saracen was an idiot around Julie, and then beat himself up for it, and I think it's wholly consistent that Jason would decide to not waste the six months in self-pity that his obnoxious roommate did, and throw himself whole-heartedly into rehab.
What didn't work so well for me was Tyra's fling with the oil development guy. First off, ODG came off like a rapist/serial killer with his "Do you want to go for a drive?" shtick. I wanted to slap Tyra for saying yes. And I wanted to slap her again for falling for him, when obviously he was just passing through. I understand Tyra wanting to find a way out of Dillon, but ODG is not going to do it, and I thought she was smart enough to understand that. We can just chalk her disappointment up to one more example of the perils of casual sex. He doesn't love her, and in fact has someone to go home to -- and Tyra should have stuck to her "I'm not going to sleep with you" guns.
Speaking of people who shouldn't be sleeping together, we come finally to Lyla and Tim. Poor Riggins, he really loves the girl, and he'd like to have a real relationship with her -- his expressions were so tortured when Lyla was putting him in his sex-toy-only place. But I have no contempt for Riggins (OK, maybe a little, but he's pathetic, and what young man will resist a gorgeous girl throwing herself at him?), because at least Riggins is honest with himself about what he is doing. He knows he shouldn't be in love with his best friend's girl, and he shouldn't be sleeping with her, either, but he loves her! This is probably the only chance with her he'll ever get! I don't necessarily agree with this twisted logic, but I can see Riggins clinging to it.
Lyla, on the other hand, is going straight to hell, and not just for sleeping with Riggins and lying to everyone -- Jason, her parents, anyone in her general vicinity -- about everything. Two scenes in particular stand out: with Tami, she's still clinging to the old story which she has already abandoned in her heart, but can't yet admit to having done so in public. I started out thinking that it was pathetic that she would attach herself so thoroughly to Jason at such a young age, but in Lyla's eyes, she is Hillary Clinton to Jason's Bill. She would wield some serious power and influence being attached to a star quarterback, and she knows it. Combined that with the pious/faithful girlfriend thing she has been rocking for years, and you can see why she can't easily give it up.
Earlier, I decried her falling into Riggins' arms as a betrayal of her character, but that's because I was as snowed as everyone else by Lyla's front. The reality is, she does what she wants, she takes what she wants, because she knows how to do it and she knows there will be no repercussions. In this, she is her father's daughter; Buddy will do what it takes to get the Panthers that championship. The second scene that cemented my opinion of Lyla was her berating Riggins, and dumping all of the blame for their situation on him: He is the one that is sleeping with his best friend's girl, nevermind that she is sleeping with her boyfriend's best friend! It was all on Riggins, and she could stand there and deliver that speech, believing every word of it, because she is Lyla Garrity, and she can do whatever she wants in Dillon, TX.
It's always so exciting when a very pretty girl is revealed to be rotten to the core. Contrast Lyla and Julie, who is genuine and funny and a pain in the ass in the way that all 15-year-old girls should be. Lyla would never do a web search on open high school coaching jobs for her dad, because they own Dillon. Julie's just a witness to the stresses her parents are under and not-so-subtley trying to help them out and get herself out of the pressure cooker, too. (I told DH he needs to remember that "Daughters are supposed to be a comfort to their fathers," line. I'm sure it will come in handy later.)
I had a tv-themed conversation today, and I professed that FNL is a better show than Battlestar Galactic. I haven't said too much (anything?) about BSG here, but I adore it; it's gritty and real in the way that my late lamented Farscape was, but scifi will always be easier to do that reality, at least in some ways. In BSG, they can make up the rules as they go along, more or less, from fashion to interior design to slang -- everything. FNL is constrained by being in the now, and in Texas. Yes, it's a fictional town, but FNL is exceptionally grounded. The dialog, sets, costuming, the camera work, even the cars they drive -- it's authentic. All the tiny things add up, like the way that all the girls have that Texas look -- the long hair and the fresh faces. The way the landscaping is more brown than green; the way that rain came down in torrents during the wind sprints. The producers and writers of this show get it, and that comes through perfectly.
It's a pleasure to care about these characters and learn more about them from week to week. Here's hoping that Saracen gets to keep that "W".
(spoilers, as usual)
Finally, some football. For a show ostensibly about high school football, there isn't a whole lot of game footage -- or practice footage, for that matter. I appreciate that, and I appreciate that when the Panthers do finally play, we don't have to slog through 20 minutes of football. The entire game gets compressed down into less than 5 minutes, and most scenes are sideline scenes or locker room scenes. It's all about the people, and not about the game -- and somehow that combination has me sitting on the edge of my seat, willing Matt Saracen to pull an impossible win from himself and his teammates.
It's a credit to this show that I both want the Panthers to win, desperately, and that I do not know whether or not they will. And when they pull off the win, I am just as happy as I would be if one of my real-life teams had won (not that that has happened any time in the recent past -- but I will always savor being at game seven of 2001 World Series, when the DBacks finally put the Yankees to rest.)
But the win comes too early in the episode, so you know we are not going to end on a high note. And just as Coach Taylor is enjoying all the congratulating back-slaps and high-fives, he's getting hauled on the carpet for a recruiting violation. Since this is the very subject he broached with Buddy Garrity when first approached about bringing Voodoo on board, Taylor has a reason to be pissed about this. And it won't just be Taylor that will be dinged if Voodoo is found ineligible: the Panthers would be stripped of their hard-fought win.
Speaking of Voodoo, his show-boating was predictable, but his "This is an arranged marriage" speech was awesome: the truth that no one wanted to articulate, but everyone acknowledged. I enjoyed Voodoo's downfall (even though it was bad for the Panthers), and I loved, loved, loved Taylor kicking his ass out of the locker room and off the team. Of course, it's likely that Voodoo himself (or his agent) called up the authorities on Taylor as payback... but that will take a few episodes to come out, if it ever does.
OK, that gets the football out of the way. What about everything else? I still love Tami, I adore the way Saracen was an idiot around Julie, and then beat himself up for it, and I think it's wholly consistent that Jason would decide to not waste the six months in self-pity that his obnoxious roommate did, and throw himself whole-heartedly into rehab.
What didn't work so well for me was Tyra's fling with the oil development guy. First off, ODG came off like a rapist/serial killer with his "Do you want to go for a drive?" shtick. I wanted to slap Tyra for saying yes. And I wanted to slap her again for falling for him, when obviously he was just passing through. I understand Tyra wanting to find a way out of Dillon, but ODG is not going to do it, and I thought she was smart enough to understand that. We can just chalk her disappointment up to one more example of the perils of casual sex. He doesn't love her, and in fact has someone to go home to -- and Tyra should have stuck to her "I'm not going to sleep with you" guns.
Speaking of people who shouldn't be sleeping together, we come finally to Lyla and Tim. Poor Riggins, he really loves the girl, and he'd like to have a real relationship with her -- his expressions were so tortured when Lyla was putting him in his sex-toy-only place. But I have no contempt for Riggins (OK, maybe a little, but he's pathetic, and what young man will resist a gorgeous girl throwing herself at him?), because at least Riggins is honest with himself about what he is doing. He knows he shouldn't be in love with his best friend's girl, and he shouldn't be sleeping with her, either, but he loves her! This is probably the only chance with her he'll ever get! I don't necessarily agree with this twisted logic, but I can see Riggins clinging to it.
Lyla, on the other hand, is going straight to hell, and not just for sleeping with Riggins and lying to everyone -- Jason, her parents, anyone in her general vicinity -- about everything. Two scenes in particular stand out: with Tami, she's still clinging to the old story which she has already abandoned in her heart, but can't yet admit to having done so in public. I started out thinking that it was pathetic that she would attach herself so thoroughly to Jason at such a young age, but in Lyla's eyes, she is Hillary Clinton to Jason's Bill. She would wield some serious power and influence being attached to a star quarterback, and she knows it. Combined that with the pious/faithful girlfriend thing she has been rocking for years, and you can see why she can't easily give it up.
Earlier, I decried her falling into Riggins' arms as a betrayal of her character, but that's because I was as snowed as everyone else by Lyla's front. The reality is, she does what she wants, she takes what she wants, because she knows how to do it and she knows there will be no repercussions. In this, she is her father's daughter; Buddy will do what it takes to get the Panthers that championship. The second scene that cemented my opinion of Lyla was her berating Riggins, and dumping all of the blame for their situation on him: He is the one that is sleeping with his best friend's girl, nevermind that she is sleeping with her boyfriend's best friend! It was all on Riggins, and she could stand there and deliver that speech, believing every word of it, because she is Lyla Garrity, and she can do whatever she wants in Dillon, TX.
It's always so exciting when a very pretty girl is revealed to be rotten to the core. Contrast Lyla and Julie, who is genuine and funny and a pain in the ass in the way that all 15-year-old girls should be. Lyla would never do a web search on open high school coaching jobs for her dad, because they own Dillon. Julie's just a witness to the stresses her parents are under and not-so-subtley trying to help them out and get herself out of the pressure cooker, too. (I told DH he needs to remember that "Daughters are supposed to be a comfort to their fathers," line. I'm sure it will come in handy later.)
I had a tv-themed conversation today, and I professed that FNL is a better show than Battlestar Galactic. I haven't said too much (anything?) about BSG here, but I adore it; it's gritty and real in the way that my late lamented Farscape was, but scifi will always be easier to do that reality, at least in some ways. In BSG, they can make up the rules as they go along, more or less, from fashion to interior design to slang -- everything. FNL is constrained by being in the now, and in Texas. Yes, it's a fictional town, but FNL is exceptionally grounded. The dialog, sets, costuming, the camera work, even the cars they drive -- it's authentic. All the tiny things add up, like the way that all the girls have that Texas look -- the long hair and the fresh faces. The way the landscaping is more brown than green; the way that rain came down in torrents during the wind sprints. The producers and writers of this show get it, and that comes through perfectly.
It's a pleasure to care about these characters and learn more about them from week to week. Here's hoping that Saracen gets to keep that "W".
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Friday Night Lights: more real than reality
1.4, Who's Your Daddy?
(spoilers)
Four episodes in. I love this show. So far, production values are holding up, as are the stylistic choices with the handheld cameras and extreme closeups. The story doesn't move, it dances and weaves in and out of so many characters' lives, you think for sure they're going to forget someone, but then you remember that 30 seconds, or that two minutes, and that was enough to establish something new, or more, or important, for that person.
The skill with which this thing is put together is awesome.
At the same time, I can easily see that what I love about this show could be really offputting to people who like their television slow and easy. This show does not spell out anything -- Life does not spell out much, have you noticed? We have to figure things out for ourselves, and find the meaning. Sometimes it's just a coincidence, sometimes we get our ribs kicked in. And sometimes, getting your ribs kicked in may be a happy accident that sets you on the path to what you really wanted. And what does it all mean? Sometimes it doesn't mean anything, and knowing your left from your right is all that's important.
This episode did hit everyone: Jason, giving up, until his obnoxious roommate pisses him off so that he'll have someone to fight, if not the will to fight for himself, by himself, just yet; Lyla doing the go away speech with the come back expression with Riggs, who seems sincerely f'ed up over her; Voodoo and Smash, butting heads; Saracen with the weight of world on his shoulders: his OIF-fighting dad's low expectations, his grandmother's dementia, his fast-food job's trash-toting, his gormless longing for the coach's daughter; and finally, Tami and the Coach, the most realistic married couple ever to appear on network television, bar none.
The central action of the episode revolves around the traditional team party held by the Coach the week before the rivalry game. Tami finds out about the party with two days notice, and Coach isn't nearly apologetic enough. Then he totally screws up the headcount, telling her "60-ish" when it turns out to be not just the team but their parents and everyone even peripherally associated with the team. Try 100, 120, Coach? Sprinkled in among this stressful situation we also had the Panther's locker room vandalized, and Saracen being importuned by the offensive line (I think) to retaliate by trashing their opponent's QB's sports car, only to return home to an empty house: Grandma went wandering. Last but not least, Julie has a dance recital the night after the party, and you know Coach will burn in Hell if he misses it.
The best scene, by far: Tami cleaning up a beer spill at the party, absolutely fuming; Coach crouches down to talk to her and ask her to get up and help him host -- and Tami just loses it on him. Oh, it was classic: When I stand up, I'll give you the big smile, but while I'm down here, I'm pissed... Coach did not deal with it all well.
Then he digs himself even deeper by giving a non-apology apology the next day at school, but Tami totally calls him on it! It was brilliant. Finally, he redeems himself after the dance recital with a full and complete mea culpa: "I was wrong." And then they make out, and every woman in the audience wishes she were Tami in that very brief moment.
Kyle Chandler looked like hell in a few scenes, but fantastic in others. He is transparent; you can read the stress on him. Tami, on the other hand, has a beautiful facade; she can turn it on and off, which makes a lot of sense considering she is a guidance counselor. These two are so well-matched, you immediately accept them as a couple. And I love that this show is not just about Coach Taylor, but about his wife and his daughter, too.
Early in the episode, Coach tells Saracen to go for the girl he's interested in, get her into the back seat of a car, whatever it takes to loosen himself up. Of course he has know idea that Saracen is interested in Julie, and the twists and turns that end with a scene with Saracen and Julie discussing Jackson Pollack while Tami and the Coach look on from across a noise-filled room are unexpected and funny. Coach manages to catch Saracen's eye; he gives the boy A Look while explaining to Tami, "I think I just told that boy to get our daughter in the back seat of a car," when you know that if any such thing happens, Saracen wouldn't live to see daylight.
Best thing? Saracen knows that, and the fact that he even knows who Jackson Pollack is has Julie intrigued way more than she would ever be willing to admit. For now.
Next week: the big game; will Voodoo get the start? He was late to practice and disrespectful to the Coach, but that isn't nearly enough information to work with. Buddy has this Mephistophilean air about him; the guy gives me the creeps. We'll get to see how it all goes on Monday when the next FNL airs during Studio 60's regular timeslot.
(spoilers)
Four episodes in. I love this show. So far, production values are holding up, as are the stylistic choices with the handheld cameras and extreme closeups. The story doesn't move, it dances and weaves in and out of so many characters' lives, you think for sure they're going to forget someone, but then you remember that 30 seconds, or that two minutes, and that was enough to establish something new, or more, or important, for that person.
The skill with which this thing is put together is awesome.
At the same time, I can easily see that what I love about this show could be really offputting to people who like their television slow and easy. This show does not spell out anything -- Life does not spell out much, have you noticed? We have to figure things out for ourselves, and find the meaning. Sometimes it's just a coincidence, sometimes we get our ribs kicked in. And sometimes, getting your ribs kicked in may be a happy accident that sets you on the path to what you really wanted. And what does it all mean? Sometimes it doesn't mean anything, and knowing your left from your right is all that's important.
This episode did hit everyone: Jason, giving up, until his obnoxious roommate pisses him off so that he'll have someone to fight, if not the will to fight for himself, by himself, just yet; Lyla doing the go away speech with the come back expression with Riggs, who seems sincerely f'ed up over her; Voodoo and Smash, butting heads; Saracen with the weight of world on his shoulders: his OIF-fighting dad's low expectations, his grandmother's dementia, his fast-food job's trash-toting, his gormless longing for the coach's daughter; and finally, Tami and the Coach, the most realistic married couple ever to appear on network television, bar none.
The central action of the episode revolves around the traditional team party held by the Coach the week before the rivalry game. Tami finds out about the party with two days notice, and Coach isn't nearly apologetic enough. Then he totally screws up the headcount, telling her "60-ish" when it turns out to be not just the team but their parents and everyone even peripherally associated with the team. Try 100, 120, Coach? Sprinkled in among this stressful situation we also had the Panther's locker room vandalized, and Saracen being importuned by the offensive line (I think) to retaliate by trashing their opponent's QB's sports car, only to return home to an empty house: Grandma went wandering. Last but not least, Julie has a dance recital the night after the party, and you know Coach will burn in Hell if he misses it.
The best scene, by far: Tami cleaning up a beer spill at the party, absolutely fuming; Coach crouches down to talk to her and ask her to get up and help him host -- and Tami just loses it on him. Oh, it was classic: When I stand up, I'll give you the big smile, but while I'm down here, I'm pissed... Coach did not deal with it all well.
Then he digs himself even deeper by giving a non-apology apology the next day at school, but Tami totally calls him on it! It was brilliant. Finally, he redeems himself after the dance recital with a full and complete mea culpa: "I was wrong." And then they make out, and every woman in the audience wishes she were Tami in that very brief moment.
Kyle Chandler looked like hell in a few scenes, but fantastic in others. He is transparent; you can read the stress on him. Tami, on the other hand, has a beautiful facade; she can turn it on and off, which makes a lot of sense considering she is a guidance counselor. These two are so well-matched, you immediately accept them as a couple. And I love that this show is not just about Coach Taylor, but about his wife and his daughter, too.
Early in the episode, Coach tells Saracen to go for the girl he's interested in, get her into the back seat of a car, whatever it takes to loosen himself up. Of course he has know idea that Saracen is interested in Julie, and the twists and turns that end with a scene with Saracen and Julie discussing Jackson Pollack while Tami and the Coach look on from across a noise-filled room are unexpected and funny. Coach manages to catch Saracen's eye; he gives the boy A Look while explaining to Tami, "I think I just told that boy to get our daughter in the back seat of a car," when you know that if any such thing happens, Saracen wouldn't live to see daylight.
Best thing? Saracen knows that, and the fact that he even knows who Jackson Pollack is has Julie intrigued way more than she would ever be willing to admit. For now.
Next week: the big game; will Voodoo get the start? He was late to practice and disrespectful to the Coach, but that isn't nearly enough information to work with. Buddy has this Mephistophilean air about him; the guy gives me the creeps. We'll get to see how it all goes on Monday when the next FNL airs during Studio 60's regular timeslot.
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