It’s been a rough road for the Dude lately, with a lot of shows finally returning to the airwaves, but few that pique his interest. I don’t care to know the answer to the question posed in the title Samantha Who, I’m not terrifically interested in just how Desperate those Housewives are, and I think about American Idol as often as I think about the gross national product of Nepal.
But i do love me some NBC Thursday night comedy. And while doing full reviews of the programming doesn’t make a lot of sense, minicaps of those I watch seems in order, if for no other reason that you deserve more than weekly Battlestar: Galactica recaps. Mind you, I don’t watch My Name is Earl, so you’ll have to make do with minicaps of 75% of NBC’s comedy lineup.
Tina Fey makes eating knock-off Cheetos hot. That’s a freakin’ gift. Then again, Tina Fey could punch my Nana in the face repeatedly and I’d find it adorable.
How Alec Baldwin+Tracy Morgan continually equals comedy gold defies all description, in that I pretty much couldn’t stand Morgan on SNL but love him on this show. Last week’s episode lacked almost any interaction between these two, and it suffered by this absence. Donaghy not knowing “blackamericans” wasn’t actually a word just killed me, although not as much as Dot Com’s bizarrely poignant self-assessment as to why he can’t find love.
This show is seemingly trying to achieve the heretofore impossible: take a normal couple in love and keep them as such without losing interest in them as a couple. And with Jim and Pam, they just might do that. I keep waiting for the show to inject some artificial obstacle for them to overcome, but the most they seem willing to do so far is Jim’s asinine kneeldown at the end of the ep. Come on, Beasley, you don’t have to break up with him over it, but I wouldn’t have blamed you for being a little peeved there.
As for the “Michael-says-he-wants-love-but-just-wants-booty” plot, weird to see the show invoke not only the British show’s version of this in its Christmas special, but also, in a weird way, the film Little Children, another pop culture gem that draws both horror and comedy from all-too-familiar situations.
And God bless the return of the random direct-to-camera interviews this week. Both Creed’s creepiness (“Just one to go!”) and Kevin’s sweetness (“It’s nice to win one.”) were both gold.
Watching Scrubs lately has been a bit like running into my second cousins at random events. I know the gist of what’s going on, but not enough to really focus on anything except trying to remember last names and what everyone’s supposed to be up to these days. Also, for a show seven years into its run, with major life changes for nearly every character along the way, the fundamental relationships have been set in stone for years, making me able to essentially predict everything that will happen once a particular plot is introduced.
Now, some people might like Scrubs specifically for such tried and true execution. You might not want Cox to do anything but rant and rave, and I love me some Coxian rants. But I thought this year was all about J.D. finally growing up, and they seem to have totally abandoned that promising concept. Least they finally remembered this week that Kelso’s potentially on the way out. Maybe that plot line will finally shake things up before their inevitable move to ABC next year.