Finales Disorient and Disappoint

Last night's House season finale was rather underwhelming, much like the majority of Season 3. By the end of the episode, all three of the House-ettes had either resigned or been fired for reasons that remain underdeveloped, and the Patient of the Week's illness was quickly resolved with little explanation or mystery. A heart defect? That's it? Remember when this show used to have House doing autopsies on living children and unearthing shocking affairs via diagnoses of African sleeping sickness?

There's little suspense surrounding the fate of Cameron, Chase, and Foreman, considering that the actors who play them have not quit the show. The only tension is around how the writers will contrive to bring them back to the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital at the start of season 4. Let's hope that come Septemberish, House will return to form with shocking, provocative cases, a little more heat (House and Cuddy, anyone?), and fewer plot arcs featuring men as hell-bent on destroying Dr. Greg as cartoon villains.

Lost's finale already has been much-discussed across the blogscape (I prefer this term to blogosphere) so I will just say this: now that's how a show maintains fan interest during the off-season. I have no idea how showrunners Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindelof plan to continue the show, given the shocking nature of the finale's few minutes. Any commenters care to weigh in with their predictions?

Finally, take a gander at David Remnick's take on the end of The Sopranos. He says it better than I could, which is one of many reasons why I am not running The New Yorker.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust...

In case you were wondering, at the end of last week, I made the decision to take my THe View spring collector's mug and place it on my desk to serve as the best pen holder ever.

On Wednesday, I made sure that Elisabeth's face was facing away from me...and that I I could only see Rosie and Joy smiling back at me with Warhol-esque vibrancy.

Today, I couldn't even look at the mug anymore.

It's been real, Ro. I'll catch you on the flip side.

To attempt to make sense of this senseless tragedy for just a second...it's not that Elisabeth isn't entitled to hold her views...it's just that she is under thirty and lacks the skill and charisma of her View co-hosts, and therefore comes across as more like the weakest link on a high school Model UN team.

And if you're like me and have Wednesday's episode DVRd for the repeat viewing, please check out Alicia Silverstone's snub of Elisabeth. It is better television than the M*A*S*H and Seinfeld series finales combined.

Cue Madonna's This Used to Be My Playground.

Upfront Recap CBS: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!

So i have been promising my dear, co-blogger Alanna for a while now to do an Upfront Week recap. This turned out to be more daunting a task than you would think since I had a lot on my work place plate. Seriously...some people expect you to do shit for your paycheck. I decided to instead break down this Rushmore of a blog into daily increments, entitled WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! in which I inform you of the biggest mistake made by each network with their Fall 2008 schedule. Clearly being negative is tons more entertaining. Let's start with CBS...

Looking at all the shows on their radar, CBS was clearly on a quest to find a companion piece for GHOST WHISPERER, aka JENNIFER LOVE HEWITT DOES MORE THAN SHOW US HER TATAS IN HANES COMMERICALS.

Months back, I was convinced Moonves had a winner with BABYLON FIELDS, written by Gerald Cuesta, the helmer behind L.I.E. . BF explores what happens in Babylon, Long Island when the dead come back to life. The pilot focuses on the Wunch family, a mother and daughter who murdered their abusive husband/father and also lost a daughter/sister years ago. ZOINKS!

Scripts are usually very superficial reads for me...40 something pages I thumb through with a phone in one hand and a Campbell's Soup-At-Hand in the other (give me free soup). BABYLON FIELDS, however, kept me up at night.

Watching the pilot only reaffirmed my pussy-ness. It is so well executed, and to my Long Island native's delight, actually shot in Baldwin, Long Island, allowing for a non-Hollywood view of my precious subarbs. Amber Tamblyn wont the Lawn Guyland Accent contest over Ray Stevenson, who sounded like he might still prefer a cup of tea over a Big Gulp (give me a free big gulp). However, acting was overall great.

So what did CBS do instead of picking up this stroke of genius? They went with MOONLIGHT, about a vampire investigator fighting forces of evil. Never thought I would see the day where I don't like a vampire show, but GAG ME.

GOOD ONE, CBS!

ANTM/Lost Recap

I have decided that henceforth, when there are two shows to blog about on the same night, I will write a recap in the style of the old New Yorker film reviews: that is, attempt to link two very different shows in one piece, using a lot of B.S. about their respective themes, which I will make up.

Since the dawn of television, serial dramas have used the deaths of main characters to bolster ratings, generate discussion, and attract attention. This has become so common and familiar a practice that TV writers seem to believe that they have to kill off at least one protagonist a season, like a sacrifice to the Nielsen gods. Competitive reality television has adopted the same process, but to an even greater degree: each week, someone is ritualistically sent home, their exile from the competition a stand-in for death.

Last night was the finale of Cycle 8 of America's Next Top Model, and the penultimate episode of Lost's third season. Both episodes made promises to their audiences, and one was kept and one broken. Each ANTM guarantees a loss, often made predictable through clunky editing. On Lost, the spectre of Charlie's death has been growing with each week, as Desmond repeatedly sees flashes promising a grisly end for the former hobbit. Desmond saves him each time, but has said himself that eventually Charlie has to die, that he won't be able to prevent it.

Last night was a Charlie flashback, and that alone could be hazardous to one's health. When Desmond told Charlie that he envisioned him flipping a switch, then drowning, which somehow enabled the rescue of Claire and Aaron, it became clear that after much promise, Charlie would leave Craphole Island for good. However, a series of random flashbacks highligting Charlie's "greatest hits" - the best moments of his life - and some poignant moments with Claire and Hurley led to Charlie swimming down to the Looking Glass Station to discover the station was not flooded. "I'm alive!" he shouted, and summoned several attractive women with guns. Fin. Huh.

I will extrapolate that perhaps Charlie's death was not as simple as a flip and drown, and Desmond did not want to tell him the gruesome extent of it, because that would prevent Charlie from following through with his final heroic moment. But if the Lost writers really want to prolong Charlie's demise for another episode - and by now he HAS to die, according to Chekhov's rule - there better be a damn good reason for it.

Meanwhile, ANTM's finale featured two deaths, as two models were sent home for being - well, what exactly? Renee and Natasha are clearly not inferior to Jaslene, who, like Kate on Lost, seems capable of making only one facial expression. (And, not to be catty, but she looks like a performer at Lucky Cheng's.) I find comfort in the fact that the ANTM winner, like the sole survivor of a plane crash, is treated with suspicion by the real world. Typically, the runners-up find much greater modeling success once they've left TV Land. Hopefully, Dominic Monaghan, who plays Charlie, will do the same. While I've never liked his character, he is one of the stronger actors on the show. Maybe he can branch out from his magical creature / magical island oeuvre.

Lost Rumormongering

I try to avoid spoilers for my favorite shows. The word itself reveals why: the very nature of spoilers is to totally fuck up your potential enjoyment of an episode's various twists and turns. But the Internets are such that it is incredibly easy, and tempting, to spoil oneself. I like visiting Dark UFO for its intense dorkifications, like screengrabs of the mysterious Jacob from last week's Lost, but it also has a spoiler page that I find myself increasingly compelled to click on. I like to read Aint It Cool News's little teasers for episodes, but mostly because the ensuing insane fanboy talkbacks are hilarious. Alas, some dude named Lostfan108 (OK, buddy) posted spoilers all over the most recent talkback, several of which I glimpsed from between my fingers (yeah, I like to read websites half-blind.)

I understand how infuriating it can be to get spoiled without your consent. I once had a LiveJournal buddy who put a post behind a cut that read "I just found out I was adopted." Eager to get my Schadenfreude on by reading about someone else's family's dysfunctionality, I clicked the link. Behind which he had written "SNAPE KILLS DUMBLEDORE" in caps like a million times. Now that called for an INSTANT DE-FRIENDING!

All this is to say, I'd love to hear some predictions for the last two episodes of this season of Lost, but that entails some airing of rumors and a confirmed spoiler or two. Caveat lector!

Qs for commenters, should you exist (and ideally will speculate on these q's, rather than answer definitively):

1) Which five characters will die?
2) Does Locke's Bad Dad count as one of the five?
3) What makes Jack's upcoming flashback so "dark"? Personally, I am hoping that the darkness means Jack commits suicide in flashback, and, to quote Douglas Adams, promptly vanishes in a puff of logic.
4) Is Locke dead?
5) Who is the returning cast member? Is he/she there to stay?
6) Will Eyeliner Guy make an appearance? He's hot.
7) Any other predictions?

HBO Whitewashes "Wounded Knee"

The trailers for HBO's upcoming film "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee," based on the nonfiction book by Dee Brown that became a bestseller in the 1970s, make it look quite promising. But according to an article in the NY Times, there will be inaccuracies aplenty in this made-for-TV interpretation.

The book, which I haven't read, is apparently an anecdotal retelling of the persecution of the Sioux in the late 19th century, focusing entirely on the American Indians' perspective. The movie, on the other hand, greatly enlarges the role of a half-Sioux, half-white character, sticking him in places where he never went, and giving him a fictional, white love interest. The film's creators are doing this because they believe today's white audiences won't watch a Wounded Knee adaptation unless there are some palefaces for them to latch onto.

Quoth the Times:

“Everyone felt very strongly that we needed a white character or a part-white, part-Indian character to carry a contemporary white audience through this project,” Daniel Giat, the writer who adapted the book for HBO Films, told a group of television writers earlier this year.

This doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Considering that this book was a blockbuster hit to audiences THIRTY YEARS AGO, what makes the HBO folks think that viewers can't handle an all-American Indian cast today?

I'm fine with some tweaking of history if it's for discernible aesthetic or entertainment value. HBO did just this with Deadwood and Rome to great effect. But the idea that the story needs to be whitewashed to get good ratings just doesn't sit well with me.

Another perspective, from the article again:

Nicolas Proctor, Mr. Brown’s grandson and one of three people who oversees his estate, as well as an associate professor of history at Simpson College in Iowa, said that as a historian he was “always kind of shocked that history is not moving enough, is not evocative enough and rich enough to keep people from having to get in there and start monkeying around with it.”

What do you think, commenters? Was this a necessary move on HBO's part?

What's a girl to do (since Rosie's leaving The View)?

In light of last week's tragic news that Rosie will be leaving The View next month, I did the only think that I knew would make me feel even a little bit better...I purchased the commemorative The View mug in its spring design, featuring a Rushmore-esque representation of Rosie, Barbara, Joy and Elizabeth. Total cost with shipping was $22.50.


It has arrived, but I need your help. Do I:

1) Clearly never use this mug because it is a collector's item that will (and should) be passed down from generation to generation?

2) Use this mug for its intended purpose: drinking delightfully warm beverages that also warm my soul, just like watching some 'Hot Topics' does?

3) Use this mug as a decorative pen holder on my desk, where I will get to look at it more often since I very rarely make warm beverages at home?

And by the by, my vote for Rosie's replacement EASILY is Whoopi Goldberg. While Sherri Shepard did have some hilarious co-hosting stints earlier in the season, Whoopi is the solid voice that that table needs.

Leadership on Lost Island

Lost has ended it's "meh" streak and gotten hot as of late, building towards what I suspect will be a bloody Mexican stand-off between The Others and The Survivors. Last night's episode was equal parts exciting and worrisome. For example: Original Recipe Sawyer was identified and killed like the irredeemable jerkface he was. HOWEVER, James Ford Sawyer has now resolved his unfinished business, which on television means it's time to die. Hopefully ABC knows a good, hot thing when they have it and will keep JFS around.

Another example: Ben promises to teach Locke the history of Craphole Island (which I really hope doesn't involve a boring lecture on the ramifications of the Industrial Revolution in the South Pacific.) HOWEVER, this probably means one, minor question will be answered so that 10 new ones popping up in its place.

But what really nags at me lately is the issue of leadership on the island. The Lost creators are decidedly retro in their choices of Premiers of Craphole Island. (Yes, I think of them as premiers rather than say, governors. They are close to Australia, after all.) Jack seems to have been replaced by a sullen, secretive doppelganger with a penchant for overly-Botoxed women, so who will take his place? The only likely replacements are all... menfolk.

Locke is frolicking in the jungle. For some reason, despite clearly being the smartest person on the island, people overlook Sayid. A few weeks ago, Hurley suggested to Sawyer that he step up. Desmond also has an authoritative air about him, sort of like my co-blogger Jeanette. Perhaps Desmond and Jeanette should co-teach a class on the drinking habits of the Scotch-Irish. But I'm getting off track here. Why are the women of Lost never once considered, by the writers or the characters, for possible leadership roles?

Every time Kate gains some valuable knowledge, she immediately runs and tells Jack in an increasingly pathetic bid for approval. We've seen through Sun's flashbacks that despite a pampered background, she could be quite formidable when called upon. Yet she remains mostly in a traditional submissive role. The other women aren't even worthy of consideration: whiny Claire with her "BAY-BAY!", the absent Rose... is there anyone else? Oh, that's right: the strong, powerful women from last season (Ana Lucia and Libby) were killed off.

Get with the times, Lost. In a post-Buffy television landscape, it wouldn't hurt to put all those big strong men on the back burner and let a lady run the show for a while. I can see it now: Kate and Juliet, as representatives of their groups, creating a peace treaty over gossip about how Natasha from Top Model is totally a mail order bride.

Typecasting? FUGEDABOUTIT! More like, thank GOD for the work, says every, overweight, slick-headed ensemble member of Sopranos cast

It's going to be really hard for me to write a comprehensive post today because my mind is elsewhere thinking about the sacrifices my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, made by rising from the dead for me, some 2000 years ago today.

Now that THAT Disclaimer is over...

About three weeks ago I went to a student filmmaker night at the Anthology Film Archives in the good old East Village. While all works there were amateur, one film featured stood out...not because it was good but because it wasn't some abstract attempt at depicting what would happen if a Quentin Terantino film took a Jean-Luc Godard film behind the middle school and got it pregnant.

This film was written by and starred two guys that I could have gone to high school with in that they were your typical, tri-state area Italian Americans. However, if I did go to high school with them they will have their asses kicked at our 10 year reunion since they are now both trying to make it as actors. Their film's thesis was that Italian American actors really have to struggle more than your average thespian to defy the typecast as a mobster. In the scene's climax, both actors are blatantly made fun of in a audition, which prompts them to wax poetic about the impact of Italian culture on America.

Okay, these goombas do have somewhat of a point; every time I channel surf and see Joe Pesci, he is usually talking about how he is going to bring someone to swim with the fishes (Or something like that, I automatically change the channel unless it turns out to be Home Alone, aka the greatest movie of all time).

But let's be honest. EVERY type of casting is type casting. Even if someone isn't looking for something as obvious as a greasy Italian, a drunk Irishman, or a subservient yet wacky black sidekick, they're still type casting. I for one think the typecasting of "hot people" is a much more widespread and grosser injustice than any Italian Stallion assumption.



Plus, if it weren't for typecasting, everyone's favorite television mob-sploitation show, The Sopranos, the reason we are all here today would be TOTALLY different. You all know Langlieb, our resident Sex and the City expert and hater of Polish people. However, while he doesn't like to talk about this much, Langlieb had a short lived career as a child actor. He actually auditioned for the role of Anthony Soprano, Jr. Among other things our loyal readers have learned about Langlieb is that he is a short, hairy Jew. (Please click the link for photographic evidence.) Can you imagine how these nine seasons would have gone if Langlieb was the legacy that Tony Soprano was working for?

Tony: (heavy breathing, followed by whispering) So, Big Pussy, we need a hit put on that spic before he dips in any more to our...market. (heavy breathing)
Big Pussy: (Screaming) THAT FUCKER IS GOING DOWN! I AM GONNA BLOW HIS FUCKING BRAINS OUT!
Tony: (heavy breathing) Keep it down, BP. Little Tony is upstairs memorizing all of the presidents and needs peace and quiet if he will ever move on to cabinet members!
Big Pussy: Sorry, boss. What's that smell?
Tony: (heavy breathing) I actually have a salami hero in at least three out of four pockets at all times.

Therefore, I do believe that all actors, including the aforementioned young, goomba filmmakers, should embrace their types. Stereotypes in the casting world are there fore a reason, that being to make entertainment more like the real world. Until we can live in peace and non-judging harmony in real life, color and creed blindness is not to be in TV or movie land! Don't go making stupid short films about how you are discriminated against just because you are angry that The Sopranos is ending before you had the chance to get cast as Italian Guy #3 oggling a stripper at Bada Bing. I guess you will have to find another in to get onto Celebrity Fit Club.

Welcome to the Mob-A-Thon

This post will be updated throughout the day. Mob-A-Thon entries so far:

Eddie On Film on his Top 10 favorite gangsters.

Johnny tells us why he thinks The Sopranos might be just a teensy bit overrated.

Alanna finds the mob in unlikely places.

SamuraiFrog on The Long Good Friday.

Lauren waxes poetic on the Yakuza from Kill Bill.

Jeanette superficially deals with the issue of Italian stereotypes in casting.


And don't forget that The Sopranos begins its swan song tonight at 9 pm on HBO.

The Sopranos Effect

My friend Josh has a theory that the plots of the films Donnie Brasco and Mean Girls are essentially the same. After all, what are mob families but grimmer versions of high school cliques? Many of the themes that run throughout the greatest mob stories can be found in unexpected places.

Love or hate The Sopranos (I'm looking at you, Johnny), there's no denying that it is a series that changed television. It altered the way that we perceive the rules for a TV series, what kind of content and characters we think are allowed to appear on the small screen. I've heard Tony Soprano compared to Archie Bunker, but Archie Bunker never strangled a man to death while visiting colleges with his daughter. Archie never cheated on his wife with a one-legged Russian. Having an antihero as a series' protagonist has been done, but criminals and sociopaths? Not so much. Say thank you, creators of Dexter, Weeds, Deadwood, The Riches, and House.

HBO certainly ran with the complex-baddie-as-main-character format. Deadwood's Al Swearengen and Rome's Lucius Vorenus are basically the Tony Sopranos of their respective historical periods. If you need confirmation, watch the "Gangs and Organized Crime" supplement to Rome on your HBO On Demand. The special outlines how the Mafia was born in ancient Rome's collegia, which were guilds run by powerful gangsters. Because there was no police force then, the collegia controlled the streets. Like the Mafia, collegia members protected local residents and gave charity to the poor, but they also were responsible for the brutal murders of those who resisted them.



And like Tony & Co., we see on Rome that the men of the collegia were deeply religious, though with less Jesus and more Janus. In fact, Vorenus is not taken seriously by rival collegia until he declares himself a "son of Hades." Then it becomes clear that he is not fucking around, because hey, the god of the underworld is the ultimate villain with whom to align yourself. Respect gained, Vorenus then saw visitors who would make requests of him, Don Corleone style.

I'm also convinced that on Lost, The Others are a kind of South Pacific mafia. Their name alone evokes several qualities associated with the mob: exclusivity, mystery, power. They are structured in a manner identical to mob families, that is, like a small dictatorship. Ben Linus (formerly Henry Gale) is the all knowing leader. His underlings secretly infiltrate and subvert the survivors, like in The Departed. They deem particular survivors as among "the good ones," presumably worthy of joining them. Locke is one of the chosen few and, based on the last episode, has come over to their side. Whether he will be made a capo remains to be seen.

Perhaps these shows are simply reflecting society in a funhouse mirror, offering exaggerated interpretations of our own tendencies to form insular posses in order to feel secure. What do you think, readers? What are other shows that are really mob stories?

Mob-A-Thon

There's still plenty of time to participate in The Boob Tubers' very first blog-a-thon! Go here for details on how you can join in the mafia fun fest. Because nothing goes with commemorating the resurrection of the Lord than organized crime. Also, chocolate bunnies.

Just drop us an e-mail when your post goes up and we'll link to you, along with our many other dazzling participants. Check back here periodically tomorrow afternoon for updates and our own thoughts on mob-related films and TV shows. Rumor has it that even Vivian and Langlieb are gonna throw down. Good times!

American TV Characters Outsourced to Great Britain

In the Times today, Bill Carter writes about how British people are better than us at everything, including acting for television. Firstly, I must retort that we Yanks are superior in three areas: cuisine, dental hygiene, and having emotions.

Carter discusses the coming influx of limeys into American programming, citing two actors from my current telegenic obsession, Rome. Ray Stevenson and Kevin McKidd will both be playing Americans on the proposed shows "Babylon Fields" and "Journeyman," respectively. Considering that the titles sound like SciFi Channel rejects, I'm thinking these blokes shouldn't buy property in Los Angeles quite yet. Their fellow former cast member, James Purefoy, whose Antony is way more fun than Charlton Heston's Antony, also will appear on a new program called "Manchild," which is a remake of a BBC series.

The article goes on to address other Britons invading the small screen, but I don't care about them because they don't look hot in ancient Roman man-skirts. I was led to question, though, if Brits really are better thespians than Americans. Considering the ratio of Us to Them, Them seems to have a much greater proportion of talent whenever awards season rolls around.

However, one anonymous TV exec claims Brits are being cast more frequently not because of their abilities, but because of their low hourly rates:

The executive said it is increasingly difficult to get an American actor in a lead role for less than $100,000 an episode. British actors work for considerably less, the executive said, though the figures vary.

In other words, their accents may sound high falutin', but they'll essentially become low-rent streetwalkers for a guest spot on 24. Ha! Take that, imperialists!

The article concludes, happily, with a mention of The Boob Tubers' favorite English TV whore:

So why are so many British actors so interested so suddenly in American television? Mainly it can be traced back to the most significant factor of all. “Hugh Laurie opened the door,” Ms. Buck said.

House 3/27/07: Don't Kiss Riley Finn Anytime Soon

I just... I can't ever forgive myself for forgetting to blog about this subject last Tuesday. Please consider this my penance, intended to hold you over until a new House airs at nine tomorrow.

Last week's episode would have been unextraordinary - that is, a standard-issue House, plus the bonus insinuation of a one-night stand between House and Cuddy - if it weren't for guest star Marc Blucas.

Blucas is known amongst Buffy obsessives as Riley Finn, Buffy's fourth and fifth season boyfriend, AKA the poor schmuck sandwiched between Buffy's two far more delicious vampire BFs. Think of Riley as some old liverwurst, and Angel and Spike as the homemade ciabatta slices that overpower the cold cut smushed between them. Riley started out sort of sympathetic - he was just an all-American boy who had no idea what he was getting into. But by the end of his run he was an intolerable meathead whose ego couldn't withstand a girlfriend with more brawn than he.



In fact, back in college my friend Lindsey and I used to scream at the television, "BLUCAS, YOU SUCK!" every time Riley appeared on screen. The refrain sounds obvious enough, but we came upon it browsing the Buffy forums on Television Without Pity. (Yes, it's been established that I include myself in the Buffy obsessives.) One poster was an alumnus of Wake Forest, a school for which Marc Blucas played basketball. And apparently, he sucked. Hard. So when this poster went to games, he would scream at him, "BLUCAS, YOU SUCK!" And continued to do so years later when Blucas appeared on Buffy as the character Spike once accurately nicknamed Captain Cardboard.

ANYWAY. I was glad to see Riley Finn go, but I'm always interested in seeing what Buffy veterans are up to these days. (Prognosis: not so good. Slayer. The voice of April in TMNT? Really?) So when Marc "BLUCAS, YOU SUCK!" Blucas appeared as Patient of the Week on last week's House, I was delighted. I was even more delighted when it turned out that his character had a genetic disease whose symptoms included, among other things, bacterial vaginosis in his mouth. Vagina Mouth. That seems like a generous ending for Riley Finn, no?

Oprah's Next Book Club Selection: Cormac McCarthy's "The Road"

Finally, it's my turn to write an Oprah-related post!

Yesterday, the Queen of All Media announced that the new selection for her uneven book club is "The Road," by Cormac McCarthy. I'm quite a fan of McCarthy, whom I picture as a steel-toed boot-wearing, tobacco-chewing, shady past-having good old boy who sees the world through death-colored glasses. His "Blood Meridian" was called one of the best novels of the past 25 years by the New York Times. This is true. It's also true that the book features babies hanging from trees.

"The Road," which I've not yet read, is typically bleak and beautifully-written according to all the reviews. It's a tale of a father and son trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic America. I seriously doubt that it has an uplifting ending.


I'm a little perturbed that a McCarthy book will have an Oprah seal of approval stamped on the covers of its next edition. This really dilutes his subversiveness, his badass-ness. It will be hard to fancy oneself an outlaw creating catastrophic violence along the U.S.-Mexico border when Oprah is encouraging stay-at-home moms across the nation to read the same books I do. But I suppose I should cast off this intellectual elitism and be glad people are reading literary fiction at all. After all, I wouldn't turn down the stratospheric book sales that come along with Oprah's endorsement.

One thing's for certain: Oprah's interview with McCarthy is going to be some delightfully uncomfortable television. The guy's old school, a recluse, and certainly won't take kindly to being asked any questions about his personal life. Set your DVRs, kids: this could be more squirm-inducing than Oprah's on-air chastising of James Frey.

Go See John Fugelsang's All the Wrong Reasons

Last Saturday, I saw John Fugelsang's one man show All the Wrong Reasons: A True Story of Neo-Nazis, Drug Smuggling, and Undying Love . You may remember John from such past gigs as co-host of America's Funniest Home Videos along with the illustrious Daisy Fuentes, and also co-host of The TV Guide Network's TV Watercooler along with the illustrious Debra Wilson. Ten fake dollars to the one who lets me know in which case I misused the word illustrious.

Anywhoo, sitting in the theatre Saturday night, it really smelled like DEAR JESUS LET THIS SHOW BE MY TICKET OUT OF EVER HAVING TO PROVIDE HIGH PITCHED VOICES FOR DOGS AS THEY ACCIDENTALLY RUN INTO GLASS DOORS. So since I enjoyed the show, and since John shared with us that he has a rather small marketing budget, I figured maybe any of the .5 people that read this might be interested in going.

Getchyo tickets here!

WWHBOD? Answered!

The NY Times, obviously staying abreast of our concerns here at the trend-making Boob Tubers, ran an article today about HBO's plans for keeping subscribers around after The Sopranos finale airs.

Chief Exec Chris Albrecht, also known as the Scourge of Deadwood, seems in deep denial highly optimistic about the cable channel's prospects.

So says the article,

Mr. Albrecht said HBO was promising its customers the channel would deliver “the goods,” which he defined as “something you can’t get anywhere else.”


If by "goods" he means "bizarre foreign knock-offs" and "surf noir," then yeah, I suppose you won't find those anywhere else. Chris & Co. will be satisfying their viewers' need for shows about "the zen of surfing," "quantum physics," "a singing duo from New Zealand" and "Lily Tomlin." Speaking of Lily Tomlin, I imagine she could use the support right now.

As dubious as all this sounds, I'm going to hang in there with HBO. Considering I not only tolerate, but enjoy repeat episodes of Degrassi: The Next Generation, I think I can tough it out even if "the goods" backfire.

Jeopardy Three Way

Now there are three words I'll bet you NEVER thought you would see in one sentence/thought/anything...but it happened in the episdoe that aired last Friday, 3/16 when all three contestants ended the game with $16,000. The previous day's champion, Scott Weiss, did go into the bonus round with, like a $5,000 dollar lead, though, so I'll bet he was on top.

Also, I love Jeopardy so much.

Boob Tubers Mob-A-Thon, April 8, 2007

We woke up this morning and got ourselves....AN IDEA. This doesn't happen often. In fact, it happens even less frequently than comments on this blog from people we don't know. Which is why we've decided to reach out to our fellow, more successful entertainment bloggers with our very first BLOG-A-THON!

We at the Boob Tubers are quaking with excitement over the upcoming return of HBO's great ethnic white hope, The Sopranos. This is a show that built a network and changed television forever. And by changed television we mean introduced more cursing, boobies, overly long dream sequences, and scenes of fat men eating manicotti than any other program before. So in honor of this revolutionary series' final nine episodes, we present to you... THE BOOB TUBERS MOB-A-THON!

On April 8th, the date that the final Sopranos season premieres, we want you to write about telegenic and filmic interpretations of organized crime. From The Godfather to The Departed, from The Sopranos to The Black Donnellys, give us your thoughts on Mafiasploitation. Don't limit yourself to the traditional Italian Mafia - we also enjoy Russians, Chinese, and Jewish mobs. Because they're so cute!

RULES:
Email boobtubers@gmail.com with your intentions.
Post your Mob-A-Thon entry by 9:00 PM, EST, on Sunday, April 8th.
We will post a list of all participating blogs as entries are published on the 8th.
Please don't break our kneecaps.

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TV Gets Gypped, WWHBOD?

Howdy howdy howdy! It's been a while, as I've been wandering the countryside much in the style of a Gypsy. Which is such a coincidence, because the first half of my post today is about Gypsies, or rather, the recent spike in Gypsy representation on television.

Full disclosure: I have some Gypsy in me. My great-great grandmother was all about Bohemia back when it was an actual place rather than something from a Rent song.

OK, OK, time to make a disclaimer before the Gypsy population of West Bushwick or wherever decides to flood this blog with complaints. (Edited to add disclaimer: Nothing in this blog is serious, except for the fact that shows about Gypsies exist. Oh, also the paragraph about mythologizing.) It's just weird because I've noticed a lot more Gypsies on TV than there used to be. Oh, and they prefer to be called Roma (because they roam-a around a lot! hahahaha!)

First was on House, in which a young Gypsy boy falls mysteriously, yet predictably ill, and his relatives stupidly, yet predictably fight House on his treatment. The boy's family are funkily dressed, vaguely ethnic weirdos who seem to have missed the boat on modern medicine despite living in suburban New Jersey. The father chews on toothpicks like a shady used car salesman and they all hate the boy's honky girlfriend. In fact, they refer to all honkies by a word I forgot - let's say it's Groosalug - that probably means "The Less Swarthy Ones Who Shall Not Be Named."

Now, on FX's new series The Riches, Eddie Izzard plays the patriarch of a Gypsy family that moves into some dead people's mansion and pretends its theirs. First of all, who knew there were so many Gypsies in the United States? I thought they were all flirting with Juliette Binoche in quaint French towns. Second, wouldn't a sweet manse like that go on the market right away, outting the squatters before they could say "American Dream"? Third, are Gypsies the new Little People? That is, a widely mythologized and misunderstood group of people for us normals to become fascinated with? If so, feel free to feature me in your new series, "Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves," FOX Reality!




Another question on my mind lately is WWHBOD, that is, What Will HBO Do? In just a few months everyone's favorite curse-words-and-graphic-sex channel will be out of decent programs. They've axed Deadwood, Rome will end once Octavian becomes Emperor in two weeks, and The Sopranos - which has nose dived in quality anyway - will air its final nine episodes in May. After that, HBO doesn't have a leg to stand on, unless you consider Entourage a leg. (Which I don't. It's a trifle.) Deadwood's David Milch is currently developing a series called John from Cincinatti, which he describes as a "surf noir," and I describe as a "How? What? How?" I don't know, guys. Will the ol' Home Box Office get overpowered by Showtime or HBO Lite, as I like to call FX?