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April 18, 2007
Boston Legal: The Rare Feast in a TV Fast
Long-time readers of this blog may recall that I usually don’t watch television. (Since I have recklessly divulged a vast amount of personal information in the past four years, some of you probably know my shoe size and blood type, as well.) My television fast is not out of some affected snobbery, but rather my aversion to annoying banality and useless content that is often insulting to my sensibilities; I eschew mainstream media, especially television. I don’t even have a TV set within earshot these days, unlike during the Peterson case when I had Fox, Court TV or MSNBC on in the background religiously; instead, I rely on selected web sites for excerpts of news, commentary and the latest celebrity scandal. Thus, it may come as a surprise to some of you that I have watched every episode of "Boston Legal" on DVD or download since acquiring the first season back in late December.
"Boston Legal" is the best show to come out since M*A*S*H. It has all the ingredients of a perfect hour of entertainment: a compelling and varied framework (the ever-popular law firm), brilliant social commentary, a really talented ensemble cast, absurd but hilarious dialogue, unrealistic but riveting courtroom drama, and the most irresistible hook for me: James Spader. Yes, I’m a sucker for James Spader and have probably seen every movie in which he starred. Spader has even made delicious cameo appearances in my dreams. When Spader joined the cast of that lackluster, predictable show, "The Practice", predecessor of "Boston Legal", I tried, without much success, to reserve Sunday nights at 10 to watch.
With the availability of most popular television series on DVDs and downloads, I can watch blocks of episodes without commercials at my convenience, and if I’m interrupted (which is often the case), I can hit the “pause” button instead of missing a witty bit of dialogue or a climactic verdict from the jury. This is the best way to watch a show like "Boston Legal", because it is written like a serial. You can’t watch an episode in isolation or you miss most of the references and history of events. The only problem with this arrangement is when you run out of episodes, it can be a real letdown; you feel like a drug addict craving the next high. I eagerly await my next set of episodes from the current season to get my BL fix.
While I have always adored James Spader and admired Candace Bergen, I was never a big fan of William Shatner’s until now. His remarkable portrayal of the eccentric egomaniac, Denny Crane, fortunately eradicates his dubious distinction of being forever typecast as Captain James Kirk. Denny Crane is such an over the top, off the edge, wildly ridiculous caricature, it’s amazing that Shatner can pull it off with a straight face. I’d love to see the reels of outtakes where he (and everyone around) cracks up. Cut!!
Normally, I’m the only one in the group hopelessly lost during conversations about television shows like “American Idol,” “Survivor,” “Desperate Housewives,” “The Sopranos,” and pretty much you name it. Therefore, my enthusiastic recommendation of BL is that much more significant. I’m like that little kid, Mikey, on the Life Cereal commercial: let Loretta watch it! She doesn’t like anything! Hey, she’s watching it! She likes it!
I love this show. If they cancel it, I will surely cry.
Posted by lorelei at 11:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (55)April 12, 2007
Death of a Champion
My first introduction to Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., was in sophomore English class where I read the short story, "Harrison Bergeron". Last year on this blog I wrote an analysis of "Harrison Bergeron" that revealed its continued impact on me after some 30 years. My interest in Vonnegut led me to one of his older works, a silly science fiction novel, Sirens of Titan, about which I only recall a character or two and how much it made me laugh. Back then I also read the author’s pet work, Cat’s Cradle, along with the ubiquitous requisite Breakfast of Champions. Throughout the years of my various author kicks and subject obsessions, I have read most of Vonnegut’s works, including some of the compilation anthologies of his commencement speeches and essays; my personal favorite of the autobiographical collages is Palm Sunday. I find myself quoting Vonnegut more than any other author save Shakespeare.
Vonnegut’s voice was a mixture of Mark Twain/Frank Zappa; he combined sardonic observation with bizarre yet accessible characters. Like Twain, Vonnegut boldly criticized popular culture, politicians, and social mores, but never sunk to the nihilistic cynicism reflected in his predecessor’s final indictments. I eagerly devoured everything Vonnegut wrote. His sanity, wisdom and wit resonated with me as a Midwesterner and student of the human condition.
Because I was too young during the Watergate scandal to pay much attention to the details, Vonnegut’s novel, Jailbird, a parody loosely based on the perpetrators of the burglary, launched my personal investigation into the history of the event and led me to all sorts of interesting rabbit holes. You could say that partaking in a regular diet of Vonnegut books reinforced my skepticism and paranoia toward government institutions and not-necessarily-fictitious policies that impact individual rights. Needless to say, Vonnegut was a harsh critic of the Bush administration and spent his last days grieving our current state of affairs.
I not only grieve the current state of affairs, but Vonnegut’s passing. He was a great man who led a fascinating and honorable life, albeit humble and unassuming. His novels should remain required reading for high school students. However, if you skipped that class as a sophomore, it’s not too late to feast upon the banquet that is Vonnegut’s legacy. Your world will never be the same.
Farewell, sweet Prince, the hope of chivalry!
Shakespeare, Edward III