Couch Potato Report

Let’s be honest: people love TV because it’s escapism at its finest. It is a form of entertainment where even reality isn’t real and we’re asked hourly to put aside our skepticism and employ what TV people call “the suspension of disbelief”. Without it, no one would watch shows in which a car crashes, hurtling end over end, only to have the driver walk away with nothing more than a small cut on his forehead (yeah, I’m lookin’ at you, ChiPs). Or how about the popular scenario in which the crime fighter tussles with the criminal and emerges victorious not only with the bad guy in handcuffs, but also with neatly pressed clothing and perfect hair.

I was thinking of this the other night while watching Remington Steele with hubby. It’s a favorite weekend activity of ours, to watch old TV shows on DVDs we receive from Netflix (greatest invention since the DVD player). Remington and Laura got themselves into a bit of a scrape, as usual, and had to swim to shore, clawing their way through the sand to escape the bad guys. A beat later, they’re running down a sidewalk and Hubby remarks, “His clothes are way too clean.” I agreed – Pierce Brosnan was well coiffed and neatly dressed, which disappointed me, especially when I took a good look at Stephanie Zimbalist. In contrast to her co-star, she was mussed and muddy. The people behind Remington Steele didn’t usually make such glaring errors, and it got me thinking about many of the other shows we watch.

Most of our favorite programs are pretty good at walking the fine line between believable and outlandish. If they didn’t, if they asked me to hold my disbelief in suspension beyond its breaking point, they wouldn’t be my favorite shows. I wouldn’t waste my time, which is why I’m so disappointed when one of my shows crosses that line and forces me to take action.

That’s right, I’m calling shenanigans – on CSI: NY.

In the final episode of last season, a drive-by shooting shattered the heartfelt moment shared by the cast as they drank a toast to fallen NYPD detective Jessica Angell (Emmanuelle Vaugier). We found out in the opener for the current season that CSI Danny Messer (Carmine Giovinazzo) had been shot, and that he was unable to walk. In fact, we were told he had no sensation below his chest.

Much drama ensued for both Danny and his wife, CSI Lindsay Monroe (Anna Belknap). I like a good, angsty storyline, so I was riveted.  I even remarked to Hubby that this was a genius storyline, because Danny told his wife (and all of us) that the doctor did not have high expectation for his recovery. My feeling was that they could really use this for the entire season, or at least half of it, and potentially reach a whole new segment of their audience who deal with issues of mobility and accessibility.

I envisioned Danny having problems when arriving at crime scenes and finding no ramps or working elevators. I imagined Mac Taylor (Gary Sinise) figuring out ways to make the labs more wheelchair-friendly so Danny could still do his job. I believed this was an opportunity to tell the story of life encumbered by injury, recovery and the frustration that comes with “disability”. I figured this was forward-thinking on the part of the writers and, if portrayed accurately, could bring awareness to those of us who have no idea what life is like when confined to a wheelchair.

Apparently, the people behind CSI: NY weren’t aiming for any of these lofty goals. They simply wanted some drama for Danny and Lindsay to deal with, now that baby Lucy has arrived. So the wheelchair arc lasted all of five episodes. At breakneck speed, we went from Danny doubting he’d ever walk again to strolling around the lab, doing his job as if he’d never been injured at all.

Oh, CSI: NY. Why did you waste so much potential? Were you afraid viewers would lose patience for a storyline that actually had teeth? (As opposed to another lame serial killer arc – I mean, seriously, are all the world’s serial killers based in NYC? And if so, why is Mac Taylor the only one who can catch them? This seems very Horatio Caine to me, and CSI: NY – you’re better than that.)

I’m not a doctor. I don’t even play one on TV. But I suspect that it takes much longer in real life for a person with Danny’s injury to recover and be able to walk naturally. I have a strong feeling that were this not a TV show, Danny would still be in the beginning stages of his physical therapy and not standing next to his daughter’s crib, rocking her to sleep in his arms.

CSI: NY, I call shenanigans on you for asking me to suspend my disbelief beyond reasonable limits and for wasting the opportunity to tell a compelling story that speaks to the experience of a segment of our population that is rarely represented by a major character on a television series. You had so much to work with but you took the easy way out. I’m disappointed, and it’s way too early in the season for that.

No question, there is such a thing as too much information. Nowadays, we’re not afraid to let someone know we’ve heard enough – all we have to do is write, speak or text the letters “TMI” and the recipient knows they’ve gone a little too far. So, in the spirit of those three liberating letters, I’d like to send out a great, big “TMI” to the media.

Yes, I know “the media” is a broad term, so I’ll be more specific: Hey, media outlets who feel it necessary to give us every little behind-the-scenes detail – put a freakin’ cork in it! You’re ruining it for me. Stop now before you go ahead and ruin it for everyone.

I’m not opposed to articles in EW that give us the inside scoop on what might happen next week on Desperate Housewives (as long as they preface it with “SPOILER ALERT”) or television shows that take us backstage and show us the green room where the performers hang out before the show (“Hey – they really do hate the brown M & Ms!”). My ire is directed at those who reveal stuff that ruins the fun, like the fact that, as I read earlier today, Tom DeLay’s broken bones may actually be 30% injury and 70% publicity stunt.

I don’t need to know what the ratings are for any given show at every given moment. Frankly, I don’t care to hear that a show I care about is falling behind others that are less important to me. That doesn’t inform me so much as make me nervous; no one wants to entertain the possibility that their favorite show might be dumped because of bad ratings. Let me just enjoy my show without worrying about how many other households are (or aren’t, as the case may be) enjoying it, too.

I unknowingly stumbled upon such information about DWTS because the article was advertised as being about Tom DeLay’s feet. I wanted to know how he was feeling and ended up reading that the producers may have played up his injury for the sake of the ratings, and when that didn’t work, they pushed him out the door. See, now, information like this just leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I wish I could unknow this, but obviously I can’t, so now when I watch the show I’ll be asking myself about the validity of all of it – the voting, the drama, the little disagreements between the stars and their pro partners. Is it all a stunt? Is any of it real?

I understand the media feels the responsibility to report the truth. I admire that, especially when it comes to politics, war and the economy. But this is television – can’t the fourth wall remain intact, even in this information overloaded society? I don’t need to know the truth about everything on television. The great thing about watching a magic show is that you don’t know the secret behind the illusions, and moreover, you don’t want to know. You just want to sit back and be amazed and entertained.

So, I feel compelled to offer a solution for those of us feeling like we’ve been subjected to TMI: don’t make it so easy. I’m not opposed to the information being out there, but let us go in search of it. The internet is available to just about anyone, and it probably only takes a few keystrokes and a visit to Google to get ratings information, as well as the scoop on who’s pulling the strings behind the scenes. It doesn’t need to be screamed from every roof top, the lead story of an entertainment report or the fodder for Hollywood gossip rags.

Knowing everything about everything isn’t much fun. It kills the wonder (“How did they do that?!”) and limits our interest, which may just be the reason why the ratings for some shows are suffering. Let us stay in the dark a little longer, with nothing but the warm glow of our television screens and delighted smiles on our faces.

Tonight’s episode of  The Office was pitch perfect, as far as episodes of The Office go. It had a reliable and yet satisfying mix of the awkward, humorous and sweet moments that have made it a consistently entertaining program.

What was most right about tonight’s ep was the sweet and tender handling of Jim and Pam’s wedding. Sure, there were the usual crude jokes, awkward confessions and idiotic ramblings (most of it from Michael Scott alone) that we’ve come to expect from The Office.  But when it came time for Jim and Pam to say, “I do”, the episode shifted subtly into greatness and lovingly united one of television’s most functional and fun-to-watch couples in holy matrimony.

I’ll admit it — I’m a sucker for love stories, and I’ll weep during just about any wedding episode of any show. But this one? This is one for the history books, my friends. There were no surprise guests, no old boyfriend showing up to shout his objections, no drunken priest or natural disasters. No — there was just a couple in love, so obviously meant for each other (nothing could have sealed that more than what Jim did to his tie), sneaking off to have their moment to remember and then rushing back to do it all again for their families and friends.

My hankie is damp with happy tears, my heart is joyful for Mr. and Mrs. Halpert and my hat is off to NBC for getting this TV wedding exactly right.

The hubs doesn’t watch LA Ink, but I’ve been a devoted fan since the beginning. I used to watch Miami Ink, and loved the addition of Kat Von D to the cast. When I learned she’d be getting a spin-off, I was gleeful and followed her over to her own show.

The first season started off bumpy, as new shows are wont to do. It hit its stride mid-season, though, and I grew to really appreciate the team as it developed — Kat Von D, Corey Miller, Kim Saigh and Hannah Aitchison. I was especially invested in Kim and Hannah, because they’re both Chicagoans, not to mention kick-ass tattooers.

Fast-forward to the current season. I was not spoiled prior to the first ep, so I had no idea going in that Kim and Hannah were no longer with LA Ink.  Kim’s departure was not explained, but Hannah supposedly missed her daughter too much and decided to return to Chicago.

So, major bummer #1: Kim and Hannah are gone.

Kat’s stressed, because the shop is short-handed, so a few guest tattooers float in and out, one of which is Dan. Dan is cool. Dan is in a band. Dan is from New Zealand and has rockin’ tattoos. I like Dan.

Another guest tattooer is Nikko. Nikko is also cool, and rocks color like no one else. His tattoos are literally pieces of art. I like Nikko.

Kat’s still stressed because she needs help running the shop. So, while she’s in New York, her brother takes it upon himself to hire a new shop manager.

Major bummer #2: The hiring of Aubry Fisher.

I don’t like to insult people, but this needs to be said: Aubry is stupid. And I love Kat Von D (she’s one of the reasons I now have a tattoo, because she just makes them look so unbelievably cool), but I lost respect for her the minute she decided to keep Aubry on in the shop.

Aubry has never managed a tattoo shop before. Aubry doesn’t know how to work hard. Aubry doesn’t take anything seriously. Aubry is an awful addition to the cast of LA Ink this year, and her presence has made the show nearly unwatchable.

Despite numerous screw ups, Aubry has not been fired. I am convinced that the producers are behind this, and I back that conviction with Kat’s constant assertions that she wants nothing but the best work in her shop and she expects excellence out of her people. I think if it were up to Kat, Aubry would have been fired in the second episode.

Major bummer #3: Kat has lost control of her shop.

And that’s really, really sad.

Major bummer #4: Amy, Paulie and the weirdo running the other tattoo shop that is being featured each week.

I understand the title of the show is LA Ink, which means it could logically feature more than one tattoo shop in LA, but where did they find this guy? Where did they find this shop? It looks like a hole in the wall.

My hope is that they’re looking to spin off this other shop into it’s own show. If that’s true, then great — let High Voltage be the featured shop again, and let’s get back to what made LA Ink such a great show — the High Voltage tattooers and the people they tattoo.

It used to be that I would tear up at least once per episode because the stories told by the clients were so moving. This season, there are fewer clients being featured in favor of all the ridiculous Aubry-Amy-Paulie drama, which is wearing my patience thin. I DVR every episode, and it’s gotten to the point that I will fast-forward through any parts featuring this nonsense. Lately it feels like I’m only watching about 15 minutes of quality content.

Major bummer #5: The season ends tonight, before it could actually get good.

This is the first season I’ve watched that has been a disappointment from start to finish. I feel bad for Kat — you can almost tell that her heart isn’t in it, either. I hope she can regain some control of her shop before the next season — I don’t want another cringe-inducing batch of episodes that makes me want to throw things at my TV.

Speaking of that, I’m hoping tonight is the last time I will be forced to lay eyes on Aubry, who looks to me like the tree sloth character from the Ice Age movies if you added about a pound of makeup and a blond wig. The commercials I’ve seen show her having some kind of showdown with Corey (you go, Miller!), and the episode guide alludes to some kind of “difficult decision” for Kat.

It’s not difficult. Fire her, Kat! You were considering firing Pixie for much less crap than Aubry’s! And if it’s not up to you — if it’s up to the producers, then here is my message to them: Aubry Fisher is ruining the show. She is making it unwatchable. PLEASE get rid of her. Kick her back over to the Rock of Love Bus or whatever skanky reality show rock she crawled out from under.

I used to love LA Ink, but right now — it’s a sad, faded-out image of its former self. Put it back into the capable hands of Kat Von D and her talented artists and let them give it the color touch-up it so desperately needs.