The Daily Beast: "Homeland, Justified, Downton Abbey and More: The Best and Worst TV Shows of 2011"

At The Daily Beast, it's finally time for my Best and Worst TV Shows of 2011 list: with 10 shows up for recognition as the best (including Justified, Homeland, Downton Abbey, Community, Parks and Recreation, Game of Thrones, The Good Wife, and more) and five for worst of 2011. (Plus, you can also compare my Best/Worst picks to my colleague Maria Elena Fernandez's.)

Head over to The Daily Beast to read my latest feature, "Homeland, Justified, Downton Abbey and More: The Best and Worst TV Shows of 2011," which--as the title indicates--rounds up the best and worst television that 2011 had to offer. Warning: the story may contain spoilers if you are not entirely caught up on the shows discussed here.

What is your take on our lists? Did your favorite/least favorite shows make the cut? Head to the comments section to discuss and debate.

The Daily Beast: "The Real Race for Best Drama: Why Mad Men May Not Win"

The race for the Emmy Awards’ top drama prize isn’t as cut and dried as it looks.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "The Real Race for Best Drama: Why Mad Men May Not Win," in which I examine the cutthroat competition this year for best drama, and why Mad Men may not win the top spot at next weekend's awards ceremony. (Though it probably will.)

What's your take on the drama race this year? Will Mad Men four-peat? Will The Good Wife claim the top pick? Will HBO's Game of Thrones or Boardwalk Empire walk away with the statuette? Or will Friday Night Lights pull off the impossible and finally get some recognition for its outstanding fifth and final season? Head to the comments section to discuss.

TCA Awards: Friday Night Lights Wins Program of the Year, Game of Thrones Named Outstanding New Program

It is known: Game of Thrones is the winner of this year's Outstanding New Program by the TCA.

As a member of the venerable Television Critics Association (TCA), I joined the professional journalists' organization this evening for the annual TCA Awards, which are always a fantastic evening celebrating the best of television.

At the ceremony (which, as per TCA tradition, are not be televised), Parks and Recreation's Nick Offerman was on hand as the host of the evening, which saw awards given out to Game of Thrones (Outstanding New Program), Friday Night Lights (Program of the Year), Mad Men (Outstanding Achievement in Drama), Modern Family (Outstanding Achievement in Comedy), Sherlock (Outstanding Achievement in Movies, Miniseries and Specials), and The Amazing Race, among others.

Individual winners included Mad Men's Jon Hamm, Parks and Recreation's Offerman, Modern Family's Ty Burrell, and Oprah Winfrey, who was the recipient of a career achievement award.

The full list of TCA Award winners (as well as the official press release) can be found below.

THE TELEVISION CRITICS ASSOCIATION ANNOUNCES
2011 TCA AWARDS WINNERS

DirecTV/NBC’s “Friday Night Lights” Named Program of The Year
HBO’s “Game of Thrones” Wins Outstanding New Program

“Mad Men,” “Modern Family,” “Parks and Recreation,” “Restrepo,”
“Sherlock,”
“Sesame Street” and “Amazing Race” are honored along with
Oprah Winfrey and “The Dick Van Dyke Show”

BEVERLY HILLS, CA – The Television Critics Association (TCA) tonight recognized the top programs and actors of the 2010-2011 television season at its 27th Annual TCA Awards presentation. Nick Offerman, star of NBC’s “Parks and Recreation,” hosted the annual invitation-only event, held at The Beverly Hilton hotel in conjunction with the TCA’s summer press tour. The non-televised ceremony bestowed awards in 12 categories to recipients in comedy, drama, reality, miniseries, news and youth programming.

Members of the TCA, a media organization of more than 200 professional TV critics and journalists from the United States and Canada, voted HBO’s “Game of Thrones” this season’s “Outstanding New Program” and honored the final season of DirecTV/NBC’s “Friday Night Lights” with its award for “Program of The Year.”

Winning its second consecutive TCA Award, ABC’s “Modern Family” took home the award for “Outstanding Achievement in Comedy.” AMC’s “Mad Men” received the award for “Outstanding Achievement in Drama,” its third in this category, having previously won the distinction in 2008 and 2009.

The award for “Individual Achievement in Drama” went to actor Jon Hamm (Don Draper, of AMC’s “Mad Men”) while actor/host Nick Offerman (Ron Swanson, of NBC’s “Parks and Recreation”) shared the honor of “Individual Achievement in Comedy” with fellow actor Ty Burrell (Phil Dunphy, of ABC’s “Modern Family”).

While PBS Masterpiece’s “Sherlock” emerged victorious in the category of “Outstanding Achievement in Movies, Miniseries and Specials,” CBS’s “Amazing Race” received the organization’s first award for “Outstanding Achievement in Reality Programming.”

The TCA also recognized PBS’s “Sesame Street” with an award for “Outstanding Achievement in Youth Programming,” and the National Geographic Channel documentary “Restrepo” received top honors for “Outstanding Achievement in News & Information.”

In addition to recognizing the year’s finest programming, the TCA bestowed a Heritage Award on CBS’s former series “The Dick Van Dyke Show” (1961-66) for the cultural and social impact the program has had on society. Carl Reiner, the show’s creator and the recipient of the
2003 TCA Career Achievement Award, was on hand to receive the honor alongside series actors Rose Marie and Larry Mathews.

The non-profit organization also presented Oprah Winfrey with a Career Achievement Award for her influence through 25 seasons of “The Oprah Winfrey Show.”

2011 TCA Award recipients are as follows:
•    Individual Achievement in Drama: Jon Hamm (“Mad Men,” AMC)
•    Individual Achievement in Comedy: Ty Burrell (“Modern Family,” ABC) and Nick Offerman (“Parks and Recreation,” NBC)
•    Outstanding Achievement in News and Information:
“Restrepo” (National Geographic Channel)
•    Outstanding Achievement in Reality Programming: “Amazing Race” (CBS)
•    Outstanding Achievement in Youth Programming: “Sesame Street” (PBS)
•    Outstanding New Program: “Game of Thrones” (HBO)
•    Outstanding Achievement in Movies, Miniseries and Specials: “Masterpiece: Sherlock” (PBS)
•    Outstanding Achievement in Drama: “Mad Men” (AMC)
•    Outstanding Achievement in Comedy: “Modern Family” (ABC)
•    Career Achievement Award: Oprah Winfrey
•    Heritage Award: “The Dick Van Dyke Show”
•    Program of the Year: “Friday Night Lights” (DirecTV/NBC)

The Last Waltz: An Advance Review of Season Five of Friday Night Lights

Well, this is it: the beginning of the end.

After four seasons of emotionally resonant drama, a nuanced exploration of life in small town Texas, and one of the most realistic portrayals of marriage ever, television masterpiece Friday Night Lights is heading towards the its final days, beginning with this week's thrilling and evocative season premiere ("Expectations"), written by David Hudgins and directed by Michael Waxman.

It's not surprising that "Expectations" had me getting choked up no less than four times over the course of 40-odd minutes, as characters made their farewells and prepared to leave Dillon behind. While their goodbyes might be temporary, it was a canny way of signaling to the audience that the final parting is still to come, that with just a dozen or so episodes left, there would be no going back to Dillon.

The first two episodes of the fifth and final season--"Expectations" and next week's installment ("On the Outside Looking In"), written by Kerry Ehrin and directed by Michael Waxman--contain an aura of both sadness and hope.

Which is fitting as there is a lot of change afoot in just the first hour alone, as Landry (Jesse Plemons) and Julie (Aimee Teegarden) prepare to leave for college and Eric (Kyle Chandler) and Tami (Connie Britton) grapple with new professional challenges (including, for Tami, one hell of a high-risk student), while also attempting to come to terms with Julie growing up and leaving home.

But everyone has to deal with some new circumstances, some of which are inherently challenging. There's trouble at home for Becky (Madison Burge), who has to deal with a sudden change in her family life as well as feelings of isolation and abandonment. Jess (Jurnee Smollett) attempts to raise her little brothers now that her dad is on the road launching multiple franchises of his BBQ restaurant. Billy (Derek Phillips) and Mindy (Stacey Oristano) have troubles of their own, not the least of which is Billy's crushing guilt over Tim (Taylor Kitsch) still being in prison and further changes at the Riggins household.

What else did I think about the first two episodes of Season Five?

Continue reading...

The Daily Beast: "15 Reasons to Watch TV This Spring"

Yes, spring is finally here (or thereabouts, anyway), and that brings warmer weather and, very fortunately, a slew of new and returning television series.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can check out my latest feature, "15 Reasons to Watch TV This Spring," which includes a look at such series as Mildred Pierce, Game of Thrones, The Borgias, The Kennedys, Camelot, The Killing, Body of Proof, Upstairs Downstairs, and returning series such as Nurse Jackie, The United States of Tara, Treme, Doctor Who, Top Chef: Masters, Secret Diary of a Call Girl and the NBC premiere of the final season of Friday Night Lights.

What are you most excited about that arrives on the airwaves between now and May? Head to the comments section to discuss.

The Daily Beast: "Goodbye, Friday Night Lights"

Yes, last night marked the end of Friday Night Lights and television--and perhaps the world--is a little sadder for its loss.

I have two connected features over at The Daily Beast that tie into last night's series finale ("Always") of Friday Night Lights. The first is "Goodbye, Friday Night Lights," a eulogy for the show, in which I examine the series' legacy and talk (briefly) to executive producer Jason Katims and series lead Connie Britton about the show's influence and its passing.

The second is a fan-centric gallery-style feature, in which I talk to Katims and Britton about some of the more nitty-gritty aspects of the show. Just what was the deal with Hastings Ruckle? Why wasn't there a finale scene between Jason Street and Tim Riggins? Do they think the Julie/Derek storyline worked? Does Katims still stand behind Season Two's controversial Tyra/Landry plot? Was it tricky to play with the dynamic of Tami and Eric this season? How important was it to tie up the storylines of the original cast? What's next for Britton? And why does she so fondly remember the scent of bacon in the air?

The Ring: Endings and Beginnings on the Series Finale of Friday Night Lights

"Texas Forever."

Those words have been spoken quite a few times throughout the five-season run of Friday Night Lights and each time they've been said with a slightly different meaning in mind. Early on, they represented the optimism and vitality of youth, of dreams for the future that were spoken by those who had yet to learn the lesson of loss. But here, they're some of the last words spoken in the series, a statement of freedom and happiness, yes, but they've been tempered by the experiences of the last few years for Tim Riggins.

It's with a great deal of emotion that we've reached the end of the road with Friday Night Lights, which wrapped up its storylines and left the door open for the viewers to imagine the future ahead for the Taylors, for Julie and Matt Saracen, for Vince and the super-team of the Panthers, for Luke and Becky, and for Tim Riggins himself, finally able to build his house on his land.

The series finale of Friday Night Lights ("Always"), written by Jason Katims and directed by Michael Waxman, was a beautiful and poignant installment that ranks up there with the all-time best series finales, so accomplished in its sense of nostalgia, so true to its tone and its characters, and so willing to give the audience not only what we wanted, but also what we needed.

In many ways, the breathtaking series finale brought the plot full circle back to the show's pilot episode, offering up scenes of the players being interviewed by the news crews, those familiar director's chairs popping up once more on the field. Familiar musical themes made their fitting reappearance here. And the "Texas Forever" spirit that embodied those early conversations between Riggins and Jason Street proudly having reached their apex with Tim finally getting that open land he had dreamed about all of those years before.

Likewise, just as the series began with Tami Taylor considering returning to work, it ends with Tami now taking charge of her destiny and stepping out of Eric's shadow to stand by his side. For his part, Eric has finally learned the lesson of compromise and sacrifice that he tries to impart to Julie and Matt in the restaurant; he's able to finally separate himself from his career to see that his stubbornness is actually killing his wife.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, really. In the hands of Katims and Waxman, this was a finale that not only paid homage to the legacy of the series, to the 75 episodes that came before, but also set up an imagined future for the residents of Dillon, one where they would go on to live out their dreams, even if we, the audience, can no longer be the fly on the wall to these proceedings.

It's fitting that the show ended on such an optimistic note. This has been a series that has found its characters struggling to find happiness in a town--and perhaps a world--that didn't want them to, that offered numerous roadblocks and speedbumps on their quest for personal and communal glory. It was a place where, every week, something went wrong for Coach Taylor and his team, or the individuals that made up this wonderfully vibrant town.

Life goes on, as they say, and the same holds true for these characters. The final coda that Katims offers up, set eight months after the Lions win the state championship (and then cease to exist at all in the process), holds open a window to their futures that lay before them, showing us the Dillon-ites at their very best: Tim and Billy, finally united, building that house together; Vince leading the "super-team" of Panthers, Tinker by his side; Luke embarking on military service, as he's seen off at the bus depot by Becky; Jess in her element on the football field in Dallas; Julie and Matt enjoying a moment of domestic bliss; and, finally, Eric and Tami standing as equals together on yet another field, this time in Philadelphia.

It was, in many respects, an evening of long goodbyes.

There was a grace and beauty to the final sequence amid the state championship, the hushed atmosphere and minimal dialogue, the heartfelt prayer offered by Eric to the team, the elegance of that final soaring arc of the ball overhead. It was, amid a series that prized the silent moments, a nearly silent sequence, save the lilting strains of the instrumentals. I had my heart in my throat throughout, my stomach in knots, my eyes misty. And while we knew that the Lions would roar at the Cotton Bowl and bring home a second ring for Eric, there was something magnificent and triumphant about them doing so, and how the action connected from that final pass to one eight months later in Philadelphia. The circle, it seems, is unbroken.

Kudos to Kyle Chandler for pulling off a tightrope-walk of a performance in these final episodes. It would have been easy to vilify Eric for his lack of support in Tami's career, in his patriarchal mindset that his professional goals would naturally come before those of his wife's, that Dillon was where their Christmas tree was and where they would be staying. But, thanks to Chandler, Eric isn't unsympathetic. He's a product of his environment and his upbringing, yes, but the fact that he supports both his daughter Julie and Jess in their efforts to achieve their dreams point towards a root cause that isn't misogyny; it's miscommunication.

Eric and Tami have always had an understanding about their respective roles in this marriage. Just as Tami is able to turn on the charm at the end of last week's episode when she needs to, Eric sees her as the consummate coach's wife, always willing to rustle up a barbeque or some lemonade when the need arises, to always be there by his side, but not to run ahead of him.

Eric's entire identity is constructed around the fact that he is a football coach and he's made huge compromises in pursuit of that objective, choosing to stay in Dillon rather than go to Florida, defraying his dreams of stability and glory in order to safeguard Vince's and the others'. The conversation between Eric and Tami is one-sided because it doesn't even dawn on Eric that there's even a possibility that he would take a leap into the unknown because his wife has a job offer in the Northeast.

Just as he doesn't congratulate Tami when she receives the offer, so to does Eric not really broach the subject when she tries to bring it up, either forcefully or more delicately. It's not a conversation he wants to have, it's not a possibility he wants to consider, despite the way that his attitude cut Tami to the core. Even, as Tami sobs outside the restaurant and says, "What will I tell my daughter?" Eric still can't bring himself to console her or to make it right.

It's only when he sees his future in front of him, those early morning calls from Buddy, the in-fighting and the politics, does he finally see the offer letter from Braemore right in front of him and sees just what Tami, after eighteen years of marriage, is giving up because she "can't win this fight." It's only then that he makes it right.

The future seems to be a point of contention in a number of storylines in the finale, in fact, from Tyra and Tim's conversation about whether their dreams can "merge" at some point in the future to the marriage proposal offered by Matt Saracen to Julie. Eric's anger at Saracen, his disregard for Matt and Julie's wishes, and his insistence that his daughter is too young are all caught up and reflected in the conflict he's enmeshed in with Tami.

While Julie says that she views her parents as her "inspiration," it's a statement that cuts Tami to her core. Eric makes a big point of the fact Julie and Matt are too young to get married and that he and Tami wed at a very different time. But what signal is he sending to Julie if he makes it clear that his goals are more important than Tami's? Does Eric, at some subconscious level, realize the injury he's doing to both his wife and his daughter?

Just as Camelot can't last forever, neither can Dillon, Texas, it seems. The legend was brought up by Hastings and the others on the East Dillon field last week but it's felt sharply here. There's a sense of promise about the future and Tami and Eric's new start--for all of their new starts in life, really--but there's also a sense that something important and mythical has ended.

I loved that Matt nostalgically got down on one knee in front of the Alamo Freeze and asked Julie to marry him... and that Landry, characteristically, brought up that only a few years earlier Matt was nervous about even talking to Julie. Nice to see the two of them together, if only for that one scene. (I also loved the fact that Tyra, Matt, Julie, and Tim had their scene in the bar together, reuniting a large chunk of that original cast.)

There was a nice sense of symmetry between Julie receiving Matt's grandmother's ring and Eric getting his second state champion ring. I loved the scene between Julie and Lorraine Saracen in the house as Lorraine kissed Julie's hand when she saw her own engagement ring. The theme of family, however non-traditional, seemed woven throughout the episode: Lorraine telling Julie to call her grandma, Becky telling Mindy that they were sisters, Tim telling Becky that they're more than friends: they're family.

That's been at the heart of this series from the beginning: the way that people form something resembling a family, whether that's Coach and the team or the ragtag individuals who end up living with one another, each blending together into something bigger than themselves.

While I'll freely admit that I cried several times during the series finale, one of the moments that got me the most choked up was Becky moving out of the Riggins' house as Mindy and Billy drop her off at her mom' house. The final embrace between Madison Burge's Becky and Stacey Oristano's Mindy was overflowing with emotion; the two have come a long way in their relationship since that first night Becky crashed there after leaving home. There's a kinship there, a sense of sisterly love, that's unbreakable, even at a distance. The single tear on Mindy's cheek as she turns away as Becky is caught up in her mother's arms was heartbreaking in its simplicity.

Another? Seeing how emotional Eric was as he lead the team in prayer one last time, each of them knowing that this would be the last time they'd be taking the field together. And the moment that passed between Eric and Vince? Understated emotion at its best, as Eric told Vince that he would never know how proud of him that he was and how Vince in turn offered his thanks for everything that Coach had done for him. We've always known that Eric Taylor was a molder of men. We see here just how much of an impact he's had on the lives of the men he's trained.

But the moment that really got me was one of the simplest: the sight of Jason Street's name on the wall of the West Dillon Panthers' locker room, right there under the "P," as Billy puts the "Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose" sign to its rightful place. It's a subtle moment that underscores the love that both the audience and the writers had for these characters, for the struggles that they endured, and for the men and women that they became. Their presence is keenly felt just as much as their absence.

Glory might fade, but memories last forever.

NBC viewers will have the chance to watch the fifth and final season of Friday Night Lights beginning April 15th.

Eighteen Years: The Holy Grail on Friday Night Lights

It's nearly time to say goodbye...

This week's penultimate episode of Friday Night Lights ("Texas Whatever"), written by Kerry Ehrin and directed by Kyle Chandler, moved the pieces into place for one final emotional sucker punch as we prepare to say our goodbyes to this remarkable and intelligent series.

It was no surprise that, going into the series finale, things would look so dark and grim, as the future of the Dillon Lions was called into question even as the team prepared for the state championship. In fact, everybody's future seemed up for grabs-- from Tami and Eric Taylor to Tim Riggins, from Luke and Becky to Billy and Mindy Riggins--as the episode offered up a sense that anything was possible as these characters considered their own paths, even as we get ready to see them walk off into the sunset next week.

The result was a beautifully realized episode that was a shining example of the kind of deeply nuanced storytelling that Friday Night Lights does best, creating small moments that echo throughout, of lives lived and loves lost, of passions and dreams, and of paths not taken. With so much on the line for so many of these characters, the episode magnificently set up the final game of their lives, both the shot at the state title and their own individual destinies.

Everyone seemed to be falling apart this week, pondering just what the future held for them. Would Tim stay in Texas or head for the Alaskan pipeline? Would Luke throw off the small-town shackles or would he head someplace similar to Dillon? Would Tami take the Dean of Admission job in Philadelphia? Would Eric return to West Dillon? And would there even be an East Dillon Lions team when the dust settled?

But everyone seemed to be at odds with their own expectations for the future, as a sad wind blew through Dillon. Tim Riggins, haunted by his time in prison, unable to adjust to life on the outside (remarkably encapsulated in that scene where he throws his bedding out of the trailer); Mindy contemplating a future in which Stevie doesn't even know his mother because she's surrounded by twin toddlers; Tami seeing the past eighteen years of her marriage as a constant compromise on her part, rather than a shared journey.

It's this last element that's the most gut-wrenching as we see Eric and Tami struggling in a way heretofore unseen on Friday Night Lights until this point. Throughout the series' run, we've seen these two have their differences but typically always come together in a unified front; however, we're seeing a widening chasm open up between them as Eric can't even bring himself to discuss the possibility of Tami taking the Dean of Admissions gig and moving their family to Philadelphia. For all of his openness, Eric is a traditionalist at heart; he was against Tami going back to work at the beginning of Season One and here he's stubbornly remaining defiant to the idea that Tami's work life could alter their destiny and take them out of Texas.

"We live in Texas," he says. "Texas is where I work. Texas is where I have my job." The thought never occurs to Eric that it might be Tami's chance to lead their family's path and that Eric's coaching job might take a backseat to Tami's opportunity. After all, he wasn't crowing about Texas when he had that offer lined up in Florida, or when he moved the Taylors all over the place numerous times before. But now that there's the very real possibility that he might be marginalized in this decision, he's drawing a line in the sand of Dillon. When Tami asks, "How many times have we moved before for your job," he doesn't have an answer because there isn't a rational, honest one.

Eric's entire identity is caught up in being a football coach and, on some level, he sees Tami as an extension of that identity: the perfect coach's wife, always there with lemonade and an easy smile. But the fact remains that Tami's career has taken off and this opportunity is a great one for their family. Would it take them out of Texas? Absolutely. And is that perhaps a scary proposition? You bet. But it could also be, as Tami says, a blessing, given the uncertainty swirling around the Lions.

And, even after we learn the fate of the team (Dillon will have just one football team: the Panthers), Eric still can't bring himself to even have an adult conversation with Tami on the subject. In fact, he hasn't even congratulated her on the offer, seeing it as less an opportunity and more of an inconvenience. You can sense the heartbreak in her voice as Tami sadly says, "I'm going to say to you what you haven't had the grace to say to me: congratulations, Eric."

This might just be the lowest we've ever seen Tami and Eric and there doesn't seem to be any way of bridging the gap between them. It's a true about-face for one of television's most enduring, beloved, and realistic couples, which might be why the sting of betrayal smarts the most as it seems the steadfast support that Tami has given to Eric over the years isn't quite as generously reciprocated.

Yes, Eric is a loving husband, but he's not allowing Tami to find her destiny in the same way that he pushes his "boys" to on and off the field. Eighteen years is a long time to stand in someone else's shadow and I'm glad that Tami isn't meekly going along with Eric's stonewalling.

When the decision about the future of Dillon football comes down, it's the moment between Vince and Eric that gets me every time: the mistiness in Coach's eyes as he tells Vince that he'll be the star of the Panthers the following year, their embrace which says more than words ever could. Everything that Coach has sacrificed has been for kids like Vince and his generosity and spirit with them make his indifference towards Tami's opportunity all the more glaring.

Elsewhere, the denizens of Dillon had their own struggles in this week's episode, which afforded a number of fantastic two-hander scenes, such as those between Eric/Tami, Eric/Vince, Vince/Jess, Luke/Tim, Tim/Tyra, Tyra/Julie, Mindy/Billy, Luke/Becky, and multiple other permutations. The scene where Tami attempted to reassure Julie that everything would be okay and that her parents loved each other very much seemed so real and so upsetting to both of them, Aimee Teegarden's Julie shrinking in her seat like a small child, her mother's words perhaps making her even more uncomfortable than before.

But the question of love and fidelity seemed to loom large in this episode, as well saw one couple fall apart (Luke and Becky) while others finally came together (such as Vince and Jess and Tim and Tyra). I was beyond pleased to see the return of some familiar faces such as Teegarden, Adrianne Palicki, and Zach Gilford, in this week's episode; the writers have always been generous with wrapping up the storylines of the original cast members and there's a distinct sense of having come full circle here, from the news cameras on the field (reminiscent of the early days of FNL) and the returns of Tyra and Saracen to Dillon.

Tyra's return comes at the perfect time for Tim Riggins, who is debating whether to sell off his land and head to Alaska, to set his sights on something that's inimical to Dillon, it seems. These two have so much history that it's telling that it's Tyra who is able to shake Tim out of his despondence, to make him feel something for the first time in a long time. When these two have their roll in the hay (let's be honest, it was inevitable), it feels like a genuine decision on both of their parts, Tyra drawn back to the past she was so dead-set on running from, Tim opting to feel rather than shut down.

Their moment is echoed, perhaps inversely, by the loss that Julie feels, sitting alone in her car outside of Saracen's house, his #7 Panthers sign on its side in the yard. Her scene with Tyra sums up so much about where both characters are heading, as each admits that Dillon is "a hard place to shake."

Luke, especially, wants out of small town Texas, realizing that his recruitment offer is just trading Dillon for another small town existence. Matt Lauria's scene with Tyalor Kitsch summed up his inner conflict. He loves football but he knows he won't be happy if he takes the offer, D3 school or no. But it's Tim's words that truly seem to hit home, as the Lions prepare to go to state, the last game that this team will play together. "Play it like it's the last time you're ever going to lace up," he says, echoing his own experiences. "Play it that way and then move on."

In the end, the real question on many of their minds is whether they're running towards Dillon or away from it. With just one episode to go, I can promise that the results of that soul-searching will be heartbreaking, powerful, and will stick with you for some time to come. The end, it seems, is finally here, the last game, the last showdown on the field. Will the Lions grab the holy grail at the end of the day? And will these characters seize their destinies? Find out next week.

Next week on the series finale of Friday Night Lights ("Always"), the Taylors face several decisions that could change their lives forever; Coach and Tami are caught off guard by Julie's future plans; the Lions go to state.

The Broken Door: The Price of Victory on Friday Night Lights

Each episode of Friday Night Lights brings with it the double-edged sword of satisfaction, delivering another impassioned and poignant installment but also bringing us ever closer to the precipice itself: the end of the line.

This week's beautiful episode ("The March"), written by Rolin Jones and directed by Jason Katims, painfully reminded me of why I love Friday Night Lights in the first place, setting up conflicts both internal and external, transformative events and those quotidian moments that add up to a life in the end. For the characters of Friday Night Lights, victory on the field doesn't translate to personal glory, as this episode showed in no uncertain terms.

The March of the title might be that towards the state championship, but it's also the march that each of us endures in our own way: one day turning to the next, a broken-down door, a conversation with a spouse, a misunderstanding, a tear-filled goodbye, a brawl between brothers.

While life goes on for the Lions, poor, broken Tim Riggins has seen his life take a tragic detour. The sacrifice he made for his family--taking the fall for brother Billy's crimes so that his brother could be with his wife and son--has become a burden that's too heavy to carry, as Tim believes that his brother didn't make good on his end of the arrangement.

Billy promised to look after Becky and he did, giving the teenage girl a place to stay when even wife Mindy wanted her gone, but Becky has followed Mindy to the Landing Strip. While she's not stripping, Tim is uncomfortable with Becky's presence there, with the fact that Billy and Mindy's infant son is being fed a bottle by some strippers, while Billy sits out there, drinking his seventh beer.

Billy's casual attitude hits home for Tim, who has spent the better part of a year in prison; Billy's freedom, both physical and intellectual, is a slap across the face to Tim. After all his lifestyle was paid for by Tim's life, his ease made possible by Tim's fraternal sacrifice. Is this what it was all for?

Kudos to both Taylor Kitsch and Stacey Oristano for pulling off an emotional two-hander in this episode; I was struggling to hold back the tears when Mindy begged Tim not to go here. It was a gut-wrenching and genuine moment that passed between the two that had as much of an emotional slap as the parking lot brawl between Tim and Billy, each a sucker punch to the heart in their own way.

Kitsch's Tim Riggins is a shell of a man, having served his time and come out the other side. Gone is the irrepressible ladies' man, the football star, the hard-drinking partier. In his place is the ghost of Tim Riggins, a haunted soul who is reminded of just what he's lost. The sight of Smash on television, the whir of the radio as it announces that the Dillon Lions are going to State, the sight of Becky fooling around on the couch with Luke, they're all reminders that time has marched on for everyone else around him.

But Tim, for all his sacrifices, is still trapped in prison, a solitary soul on his own, his dream of that big open space, that "Texas Forever" parcel of land, empty and hollow now that he's seen the other side of life. What Tim, sleepwalker and malcontent, needs is to be woken up from his nightmare.

Even as Tim remains stuck in neutral, change is afoot elsewhere in Dillon, as couples fall apart at the seams, opportunities of personal and professional natures arise, and the future is contemplated. Even as the Lions prepare to take the state title, a looming budget crisis could mean the elimination of the East Dillon Lions' football program. In an interesting payoff, it seems as though there's only room--and resources--for one team in Dillon. Will it be the Panthers or the Lions? And just what does it mean for Coach Eric Taylor at the end of it?

Eric had sacrificed his own exit strategy to stay in Dillon and see his team all the way to the end, but the budget cuts that Levi is dealing with mean that he could be without a job very soon. Interestingly, I don't know what that means for Eric, whose entire identity seems derived from his role as a football coach. It's impossible to separate Eric Taylor from Coach Taylor, the family man from the molder of men. But what happens when the rug is yanked out from beneath him?

The Taylors' future seems now in the hands of Tami herself, who is offered a position of the Dean of Admissions at a college in Philadelphia, a surprise given that she's just spent the last year as a guidance counselor in a crumbling small town high school in Texas. Will Tami accept the role? And what will it mean for Eric? Just how does he fit into this potential new lifestyle?

The series began with Tami contemplating returning to work after leaving to raise her family, so it's perhaps fitting that it should end with Tami becoming the breadwinner in a way, taking the baton from her husband and running with it. She's worked hard, she's sacrificed, and stood by her husband, but it's time for Tami to seize hold of her own destiny now, to guide her family on their path.

Elsewhere, Jess struggled with her own feminine ambitions, attempting to get Coach to see that it was possible for her to become a football coach, even though she's a woman. While the odds are stacked against her (one female coach among hundreds of thousands of men), Eric does offer her the opportunity to step up and attempt to achieve her dreams, just as he's done for the countless boys who have come to him on the field. While he calls her a pest initially, I think he admires her moxie and her determination; besides, she's a canny tactician and an accomplished trainer in her own right. Why shouldn't she become the new face of football coaching? Why should he stand in the way of any of their aspirations?

The alternative is far scarier, demonstrated by the personal hell endured by Vince's mom Regina, struggling to keep clean amid a household that's increasingly falling apart. It starts with Ornette's insistence that he be allowed to drink in the house, followed by a brutal scene at the BBQ shack in which Ornette manhandles Regina and reveals that he's using drugs again, and culminating in a truly upsetting moment as Ornette attempts to bash down the door to their house after Regina changes the locks.

The violence, the brutality, the fear, are all palpable here, even as Regina and Vince try to remain strong in the face of Ornette's savagery. Vince's sadness etched on his face as he struggles to keep his father at bay. It's the cruelest cut, seeing as Vince reluctantly admitted his father back into his life, only to be betrayed by him in so many ways, both big and small.

But, most touchingly, the episode set up that victory can mean very different things to different people. Even as Vince manages to save the game against Arnett Mead with just two seconds on the clock, Regina manages to control her inner demons, sacrificing her son's moment of glory for a support group meeting. The look of pride on both their faces, as they spot each other across the crowded lot, and run to each other, recounts their strength and love for each other. It's a moment of pure happiness, as mother and son embrace each other, their tears both for themselves and each other, their victory hard earned and deserved.

And then there's Eric Taylor, standing alone amid the celebration, looking for his wife, for something to hold onto in the face of victory and on the path ahead of them. But Tami is thousands of miles away, having achieved her own success, and Eric seems more than a little lost without her by his side.

Is it a prophetic moment? Or a reminder of what's truly important at the end of the day. With only two episodes to go before the end of Friday Night Lights, it's safe to say that there's likely going to be more than a little change before the final credits roll and that life for all of them, Dillon Lion and Taylor alike, is about to change forever.

On the penultimate episode of Friday Night Lights ("Texas Whatever"), Coach Taylor is offered a deal he can't refuse; Tim assesses his future plans when an old flame returns to Dillon; the fate of East Dillon's football program is decided.

Homecoming: Where the Heart Is on Friday Night Lights

The end is almost here.

While I've felt the looming end of Friday Night Lights throughout this season, never have I felt the urgency as keenly as I did with this week's eloquent installment ("Don't Go"), written by Bridget Carpenter and directed by Michael Waxman, which began to move the pieces in place for the series' ending in a few weeks.

At times lyrical, at times somber, the sensational "Don't Go" had me wiping away tears freely throughout the episode as the concept of home was revisited several times throughout. Just what is home? Is it the place where we hang our hat? Is it the place where we're surrounded by our loved ones? Or is it the place where we choose to be, in spite of the opportunities elsewhere?

This week, Coach Taylor considered a fantastic position in Florida, one that would give him free reign to recruit and a massive budget. After struggling to make ends meet with the Lions, it seemed like the answers to his prayers, an easy out, a golden opportunity, a perfect situation for someone who perhaps has grown a little restless of late.

But this is Eric Taylor, after all. That molder of men, the Lions' Kingmaker, the steadfast champion of Dillon. Can he turn his back on the young men who have pledged to play for him? Who need him? Who are inspired by him?

While the episode follows Eric as he consults Tami and considers his options, the town rallies around Eric, looking to manipulate him emotionally into staying. Or at least, that's Buddy's intention, buoyed by the discovery of those Florida oranges. Speeches are arranged, testimonials considered, plaques and statues discussed. If Dillon's lifeblood is football, then Eric Taylor is its beating heart. Without him, what chance do the Lions have at victory?

As Eric considers his future, so to does Vince finally, realizing that Ornette is behaving more like an agent than a father. It takes a series of confrontations (including a pretty powerful one at a restaurant) and a touching conversation with Regina for Vince to see the error of his father's ways, and the fact that Eric was the one steering him in the right direction.

While Vince is unable to articulate his thanks to Eric at the sports banquet, he shows up at the house to not only make amends for his awful behavior of late, but also to offer a personal testimonial, a heartfelt thanks, and the realization of the truth. If it weren't for Coach Taylor, Vince would likely be in jail or dead in a ditch somewhere. He saved his life, just as Eric as saved so many others.

This truth hits home even more so in this episode as the time for Tim Riggins' parole hearing creeps closer. While Billy can't bring himself to admit to Mindy just why he's acting so angry (it's guilt more than anything), he attempts to enlist Eric's help in providing a character witness for Tim. Eric is more than happy to do so, speaking on Tim's behalf and stating eloquently that he knows Tim's good heart. (Surprisingly, it's Buddy's impassioned argument that seals the deal for the parole board, as he promises to give Tim a full-time job.)

What was interesting to me is that Tim had been writing Eric during his incarceration, letters that seemed to go unanswered. Even as Eric apologizes for not visiting him enough in jail, there's a sense perhaps that Eric feels as though he failed his former star player, not once, but twice.

As for Tim, he bears little resemblance to the cocky football player we once knew; the light has gone out of his face and he seems a shadowy shell of his former self. There is no Texas Forever bravado, no upturned head, but rather a sad man facing his future. Even upon his release, he seems a strange in his own house, ill at ease around Billy, Mindy, and Becky, unsure of what lies ahead for him, his sacrifice seemingly unappreciated by his brother, who can't bring himself to tell his wife what really happened between them.

That change in Riggs brought tears to my eyes, as did his parole hearing as Billy, Eric, and Buddy plead to the board on Tim's behalf, their words adding up to a picture of a man very different than the one sitting before them.

But it was also the small moments that got me as well: Riggs' sad smile; Eric and Tami discussing their days, as Eric rubbed her back; the shared "I love you" that passes between these spouses as he heads off for the final away game before the playoffs. The way that he tells Tami that he's going to stay in Dillon, that the kids needs him, even as you can see her dreams of Florida evaporating before her eyes.

These two and their marital bond remain the constant center of Friday Night Lights. Through thick and thin, through good times and bad, Eric and Tami have remained steadfast and true to one another. The look that passes between them at the end of the episode? That, more than anything, is the definition of home. And, in each other, these two have found something that most people search their entire lives for.

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("The March"), budget cuts loom for East Dillon; Tami goes to Pennsylvania for a big opportunity; the team look ahead to the playoffs; and Vince is once again responsible for his household.

Coming Undone: The Safety Net on Friday Night Lights

It's human nature to lose your way and even the most steadfast among us can sometimes become rudderless.

On this week's superb episode of Friday Night Lights ("Gut Check"), we saw three characters become directionless for a number of reasons. Creating three largely parallel stories, the writers offered up varying portraits of just why we come undone, whether in the face of adversity, due to bad advice, or simply because we're running from something that we can't--or won't--deal with head on.

For Julie, Vince, and Epyck, their struggles took them to some different places within the context of this week's installment, each straining to find their path in life while others attempted to coax them towards their full potential... or whispered some half-truths in their ears.

Of the three, it seems it might be Vince who truly realizes just how far off the path he's wandered. Listening to the advice of his father Ornette, Vince has been transformed from a team player and a natural leader into someone sullen, arrogant, and self-absorbed, someone who is more concerned with his own success rather than the Lions' as a whole. And when you add that to the already strained relations on the team, you have a volatile situation that only looks to become more explosive.

But the fact remains that no matter how far we stray, there's always the possibility of regaining our inner compass once more. Sometimes all you need is to grab onto a touchstone.

I've been critical of how the writers handled the character of Julie Taylor early on this season. Or if not Julie directly, then the circumstances that lead up to her departure from college and her relationship with her married TA, Derek Bishop. But putting aside the narrative clunkiness of those first steps, I will say that the writers put Julie through the crucible this season, forcing her to reexamine the choices she's made and the person she's become.

Aimee Teegarden's Julie has come a long way from the adorable and seemingly perfect student (and daughter) that we first met back in Season One, becoming over time a realistically flawed and mercurial teenager. Her internal journey--from being the sophisticated big fish in the small pond of Dillon--to losing her way entirely has been utterly fascinating, a portrait of how even the best of kids, coming from the best of parents, can still fail to meet everyone's expectations, including their own. I don't believe for a second that Julie would have ever anticipated leaving school, returning to Dillon, and then disappearing to Chicago altogether.

Not only has she emotionally lost her way, but she physically makes a major U-turn, blowing off school to go see Matt in Chicago. But is she there to be with Matt, to reconnect with him and start a life, or is she still running? Does she still have feelings for her high school boyfriend, or is he a convenient safety net to run to in times of stress? Is she moving forward or moving backward?

I'm glad that Saracen called Julie on some of her childish antics. While she seems to want to draft Matt into the role of confessor, he denies her that authority over her decisions. He's not her parents and he wasn't her boyfriend; she didn't cheat on him and she doesn't owe him an explanation, yet he does chafe against her own expectations even as she begins to build a (false) life in Chicago, relishing the excitement of the art scene, playing house and making spaghetti dinners.

Yet this isn't her life. Julie has latched onto Matt's and is holding on to thin air, believing that this temporary vacation into Saracen's life is her own. It takes Matt to remind her that she's just passing through; she doesn't live in Chicago, he does. She has to go back to her own life, to face her demons, and to get on with her own life.

So off she goes, narrowly missing being rear-ended by a Chicago Tribune newspaper truck. But that's not the end of Julie's journey, nor of the love story between Julie Taylor and Matt Saracen, as he runs after her car and kisses her, telling her that they'll figure out the future together, whatever it takes. It's a beautiful coda to their romance and to Julie's waywardness in general. Whether or not Matt was a safety net (he was to a certain extent), their "extended weekend" together proves that they do have a future together. But it needs to be built in reality and not on some half-baked dreams. Here's to hoping that these two can make it work because they so clearly do belong together...

Back in Dillon, things were far less certain for Vince and Epyck in their respective storylines. After learning the truth about Epyck's living situation, Tami didn't turn her back on her rambunctious protege, but forged on trying to help her see that she has opportunities just like anyone else and that she needn't be defined by her past. Those circumstances might shape us but they don't own us, something that was echoed in the Julie/Matt arc this episode.

For Epyck, she's so locked into her combative mode, so tested by everyone around her, that she can't see the possibilities that might exist for her. Tami gets a glimpse of it this week when Epyck comes over for dinner for some study help and Tami sees her interact with Grace. It was nicely planted last week that Epyck gets along well with children and we're able to see this in full force here. Gone is the raging bravado, the forced fierceness; Epyck here is calm, collected, and gentle, able to play with Gracie one-on-one. She's clearly a natural with kids and should be looking to do something with children professionally.

But then there's the incident with the $20. I'm still not entirely sure what happened to Laurel's crisp $20 bill, but either she misplaced it or one of the other kids in the "homework club" stole it out of her purse. Because it sure as hell wasn't Epyck, who vigorously defends her innocence. So much so, in fact, that a minor scuffle in Tami's office ends up with Tami getting slammed against the window.

It's unexpected and it's a little shocking for all involved, most of all Epyck, who realizes what she's done. Levi has no choice but to call the sheriff and Epyck is led away in handcuffs as Tami tries to save her at-risk student's future. The sadness that Tami feels is not directed at Epyck (it was an accident, after all) but at the system that is more willing to throw Epyck away than to help her, to write her off rather than save her. That door to possibility is slamming shut around her with a deafening boom.

Vince, meanwhile, is still "knocking on the wrong doors." By buying into the false dream that Ornette has spun around him, Vince is turning his back on everyone that once believed in him: Coach Taylor, Jess, and the Lions as a whole. But I'm glad to see that his mom attempts to show him that Ornette is doing what he thinks is best for Vince but that Vince also needs to listen to his own thoughts. He does have a good head on his shoulders and he should listen to his father's advice but he doesn't always need to follow it.

Vince has become everything I hoped he wouldn't: vainglorious, embittered, and egocentric. He fails to show up to help Luke, leaving Jess--who breaks up with Vince--to do his work for him, and doesn't do the one thing that Coach had asked of him. It's a slap in the face for Eric, who has done everything for Vince, who has given him every opportunity, just to see Vince's gratitude turn to ash.

I think Vince finally sees just what his father is when Coach keeps Vince on the bench the entire game... and Luke ends up giving the Lions a W when he's the QB and not Vince. Ornette's wrath threatens to rain itself down on Eric, but Vince is able to restrain his father; after all, we saw just what happened the last time someone got on Ornette's bad side when Vince was involved.

Will Vince snap out of this funk? Will he see the play-offs as a chance to regain his team's support and confidence? Will he realize just what Eric has been looking to do for him? One can only hope.

Elsewhere, I loved that Becky was tempted to the "dark side" after subbing as a cocktail waitress at the Landing Strip for one night, seeing the opportunity to make some quick cash, even as Mindy wasn't too comfortable with the idea of her working there. While I don't see her stripping, she's clearly realizing the value of working around drunk men with cash in their wallets and the power she has over them.

Plus, I was pleased that Mindy told Luke that she was mad at him for not standing up to his parents and telling them about their reconnection and their new relationship. While Becky is rather matter-of-fact about the situation (and the bad blood that exists between her and Luke's mom), I was glad to see that she wasn't hysterical... and that Luke clearly got the message: he showed up for dinner with his parents with Becky on his arm and said that they should change the reservation to four people. Sweet.

Finally, Mindy Riggins is pregnant again (was that not the best description of her and Billy's baby's conception ever?) and she seems less than pleased with the news, even as her husband is over the moon about the thought of a little brother for Stevie. Mindy's low-key discomfort and unspoken fears were immediately shown across her face, which seems etched with worry about the future. While Billy seems to think that everything will be okay, it's clear that Mindy is less than convinced.

Kudos to Stacey Oristano and the writers for making Mindy a compelling character over the last few seasons. What started out as a supporting character--the stripper sister of Tyra Colette--has blossomed into a major character with her own self-doubts, internal struggles, and journey. It's rewarding to see that happen when the actor is as wonderful as Oristano, who manages to make me love Mindy more and more each week. The fifth season has been a wonderful showcase for this fantastic actor and I'm now getting misty-eyed at the thought of not seeing what the future holds for Mindy and Billy.

All in all, another fantastic episode that showed off the tonal interplay and emotional grit that Friday Night Lights has in spades, giving some real heft to an array of characters' journeys this week and showing us that the future isn't really clear-cut for any of us. For Julie, Vince, and Epyck (and even Mindy and Becky), the possibilities of the future are very much determined by what we do in the present. What we do next, the people we choose to be, the way we react to adversity, that might be the only thing we have any control over. So, choose wisely before someone else makes that choice for you...

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("Don't Go"), an elite college football program attempts to lure Coach away from East Dillon; Vince vows to earn his spot back; friends and family speak at Tim's parole hearing.

The Knock at the Door: Connections and Completions on Friday Night Lights

Things fall apart.

That would seem to be the message of this week's powerfully moving episode of Friday Night Lights ("Fracture"), written by Bridget Carpenter and directed by Allison Liddi, but that's not really what's at play here.

A beautifully nuanced episode about fracturing relationships and imploding teams, it was also a portrait of the way in which connections can occur and fractured relationships can knit themselves back together.

Just as the Dillon Lions seem to be at their lowest point, things get even worse for them. A fight breaks out between Vince and Luke as they prepare to take the stage at a pep rally. Coach Taylor is forced to utter a lie about victory even as he sees his team struggling to be a unified front. Julie turns her car around once more.

But it's the little moments that offer some hope: the way that Becky leaves the note for Luke on his windshield, the blossoming of the bond between Tami and Epyck, that final knock at the door.

Things may be falling apart, in way, but they're also falling together for some of the series' characters.

I will say that I wasn't pleased to see Derek Bishop turn up in Dillon, clearly with the intention of winning Julie back, even as he claimed to want to get her back to school. After nearly being assaulted with a tricycle handlebar, Derek persists in stirring things up with the Taylors, going to see Tami at work and begging to speak to Julie in an effort to help her life back on track.

Yes, Derek is now getting divorce. And, yes, Derek has (rightly) quit his job at the college. But that doesn't balance the scales. The fact that he took advantage of Julie and that their (consensual) relationship led to her being terrorized by his wife and leaving school aren't wiped clean by his efforts to repent to Julie and her parents.

And clearly he hasn't learned too much from this entire altercation. When Julie asks whether he came back to get her to go back to school or to win her back, he does tell the truth: it was to get her back. When she turned her car around once more, I screamed at the television set, yelling for Julie to wake up and see Derek for what he was: a road block on her way to a better life.

I needn't have raised my voice. While Julie doesn't return to college (at least not yet), she turns to her past to find the thing that she was so desperate to find at school but unable to form: a real connection with someone. The world of college that Julie experienced was more or less limited to Derek and she fell into a relationship with him because she couldn't find something or someone to hold onto. Their affair happened because of Derek's depravity and Julie's loneliness.

Which brings her to a certain door. As soon as the door opened, I knew that she hadn't gone to Tennessee to see Derek but to reclaim a relationship that had fractured. Whereas Julie tells Epyck to look towards her future, Julie looks towards her past, towards something once thought broken and abandoned. But something that can be mended once more.

While Eric railed at Vince for "knocking on all the wrong doors" in his and Ornette's wrong-headed approach, it seems that Julie Taylor is knocking on the right door for a change. Behind it: Matt Saracen.

I'm not sure what this means for Julie's schooling, but it's clear that she belongs in Chicago with Matt. And that this Dillon girl is better off in the big city, where she can be challenged, and where she can reclaim that lost sense of connection and completion. To me, seeing Julie and Matt standing on that precipice has made the Julie-Derek storyline entirely worth it.

Kudos to for pushing the Tami-Epyck storyline into high gear as well. Tami's struggles as a guidance counselor at East Dillon have resulted in her often hitting her head against a brick wall but she seems to have broken through to Epyck, even though the rebellious girl lies to her about her home life. Things at her foster home aren't nearly as grim as Epyck indicates; she has a loving foster mother, younger kids to look after, and decent food to eat. But the truth of her situation is far worse than the lies she spins to try and win Tami's sympathy: her parents both died from AIDS and Epyck lived on the street for a while. She may have pulled herself up by the bootstraps but she can't accept any real chance at happiness.

I felt a twinge inside when Epyck told Tami that she didn't want her to call child protective services because they would take her away from Tami. But once the truth had come out about Epyck, Tami didn't cringe, didn't leave, didn't run. She sat down beside Epyck and joined her for a bowl of soup and told her the truth: Epyck has a chance at a future just like everyone else. Sometimes the simplest truths are the hardest ones to accept.

Vince, on the other hand, had no trouble lying to Coach Taylor about his trip to Oklahoma Tech, using his mother's past drug addiction as a convenient shield for what was really going on. And Eric bought it at first, waving away Vince's gut-wrenching lies about his mother's lost sobriety, denying Eric any honesty and denying his mother the struggle she's come through.

But lies away catch up to us in the end and the same held true for Vince, as Eric saw a photo of Vince with the recruiter and the football coach at Oklahoma Tech, a convenience snapshot of deception that followed on Vince's new attitude of putting i before team. We've been down this road with Smash before but Vince's 180 degree turn is due to Ornette's influence and the whispers of recruiters in his ears. He's put himself right before the Lions, seeing them not as brothers or teammates but as an opportunity, a springboard to fame and fortune.

Eric sees this. Jess sees this. Even Luke sees this. But Vince is blinded by the promise of easy living and college life, by big payouts and front page glory. He's turned his back on everything that Eric tried to teach him. But it's Eric who issues the biggest lie as he whispers "victory" into the microphone at the pep rally. The Lions are no pride, no team, no single unit. They've descended into squabbling and in-fighting and victory, the word state scrawled on a chalkboard, all seems rather out-of-reach at the moment.

As the Lions fell apart before our eyes, Becky made a step towards reconnecting with Luke once more. I loved seeing Becky with Mindy's stripper friends and much praise is deserved to Stacey Oristano during the scenes at home and the pageant. Her pride and love for Becky are self-evident but the humor that Oristano injects into her scenes are contagious (see the tiara exchange, for example).

We're seeing a Becky here who is bolder and more self-possessed, and who comes clean to the girls about her pregnancy and abortion. It's Becky's words of truth, of clearing the air, that lead to try and make things right with Luke, to grab at a second chance, to reforge that connection.

The small things can make a difference. Her hand-written note to Luke, about being ready to start over, did make me a little misty-eyed. Over the course of two seasons, Becky has matured from a naive girl into a more self-aware woman, ready to begin anew and open herself up to love once more.

Just like Julie Taylor, it would seem. Let's just hope that these connections can heal the wounded hearts of Dillon's residents. I, for one, couldn't help but sniffle through the final minutes of this remarkable episode. Well-crafted, beautifully written, and tenderly acted, "Fracture" ranks as one of the strongest episodes of this season of Friday Night Lights and one of the most heartfelt and emotive installments in a long time. The end, it seems, is closer than we think.

What did you think of this week's episode? Were you surprised to see Saracen? Enraged at Vince? Can the Lions come back together again in time to win state? Head to the comments to discuss.

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("Gut Check"), Coach threatens to suspend Vince; Luke faces pressure; Billy learns some surprising news from Mindy; a new running back joins the team; Becky starts a surprising new job.

Year in TV: The 10 Best (and 5 Worst) TV Shows of 2010

It's that time of year when we bid farewell to the last twelve months and start looking toward the future, but it's also a chance to reflect, to catalogue, and to reminisce as well.

My selections for the Ten Best (and, cough, five worst) TV shows of 2010 have now gone live over at The Daily Beast.

The series selected represent the very best that television had to offer the past twelve months and include such shows as Mad Men, Community, Terriers, Parks and Recreation, The Good Wife, Fringe, Justified, Boardwalk Empire, Friday Night Lights, and Modern Family.

It wasn't easy to whittle down the competition to just ten shows as, despite the overall drain in creativity this calendar year, there were quite a lot of fantastic series. (In fact, one of the very best of the year didn't even air on American television at all: Season Three of BBC One's Ashes to Ashes--including its breathtaking and gut-wrenching series finale--would have made this list if it had been open to overseas programming that hadn't aired within the US during 2010. Additionally, Downton Abbey would have made the list but it's set to air in January on PBS, so will be held until the 2011 list.)

As for other runners-up, that category would include (but wouldn't be limited to) such series as Damages, Party Down, Nurse Jackie, Sherlock, Bored to Death, Better Off Ted, Doctor Who, True Blood, Treme, Big Love, Archer, The Choir, Curb Your Enthusiasm, The IT Crowd, The Life and Times of Tim, Luther, and 30 Rock (for the current season, at least).

But now that the list is (finally) live, I'm curious to hear what you had to say:

What's your take on the best of 2010? Do you agree with my picks for the best of the year and the worst? Head to the comments section to discuss, debate, and analyze, as well as share your own best-of list for 2010.

Blinded by Anger: The Loss of Grace on Friday Night Lights

What defines a man and a player? Is it grace in victory as well as defeat?

That's always been the view of Eric Taylor, a coach whose love of the game has often meant that he has allowed his team's opponents the ability to score a few points so they don't walk off the field at zero. Or who tells his team, after a particularly brutal victory, to "take a knee" rather than unnecessarily run them into the ground. There's no gain to be had from kicking a man when he's down.

Unfortunately, the Lions--or at the very least, Vince, under the guidance of his crafty father Ornette--doesn't see things quite that way. His decision to make a 65-yard throw and win the team another touchdown, acting against the instructions of Coach Taylor, was an opportunity to not score another goal or even conquer the Panthers, but rather to put the spotlight squarely on himself. While there might not be an "i" in team, Vince is trying his hardest these days to squeeze one in there.

I'm not to proud to admit that I teared up at the very start of this week's episode of Friday Night Lights ("Perfect Record"), which saw the return of Jason Street (Scott Porter) to Dillon. For too long, I've wondered just what Street had been up to and his sudden and unexpected return took me by surprise.

But for all of the changes in Street's life, he is most definitely Coach's protege, a man who was formed by Eric in his own image, with his own innate sense of sportsmanship, honor, and courage. The difference between Street and Vince became all the more clear this week.

First, I'm happy to see that Street has made a place for himself in the world, one that allows him to work within the sports world that he knows and loves. And that Street did in fact marry the mother of his child. There's a nice sense of closure there, of knowing that despite everything that befell Jason over the course of the series, that he's out there living his life and that things have fallen into place for the former Dillon Panthers quarterback.

I've missed the dynamic between Jason Street and Eric Taylor, something that blended both the mentor/protege dynamic as well as that of father and son. Eric's pride at Jason's achievements and his hurt that he didn't know that he was married were palpably felt in this episode, as the two caught up over a meal. Jason's life may not have gone according to plan, but he's still the man that he ought to have been, a man who was molded in the heat of battle by Eric.

It's been clear throughout the nearly five-season run of Friday Night Lights that Eric cares deeply for these kids, that he takes his role as coach seriously and dutifully, that he's there as much to push the kids towards a better life of promise and potential as he is to improve their game.

Eric plucked Vince off the street and gave his life purpose and direction. It's interesting to look back at Vince at the beginning of Season Four and to see how far he's grown and changed since then. While he was always mature--he did, after all, have to care for his junkie mother and keep their lives chugging along--he was headed towards criminality, jail, or death. In pushing Vince towards the Lions, Eric saved his life.

Which is why it's all the more upsetting that Vince is being swayed by Ornette, by a father who just a few weeks ago Vince couldn't stand to look at. Ornette may have Vince's "best interests" at heart, but they're short-term best interests rather than long-term ones, goals motivated by dollar signs rather than what's right for Vince.

Eric's feelings on the matter are echoed by Jason, who urges Ornette to find a college that's a "right fit" for Vince rather than chase after the biggest pile of money. I do believe that Ornette does care for Vince but it's a father's love that's twinned with the need to cash in on his son's arm and his future. Eric's utter dismay at Ornette stepping between him and the recruiters was one of shock and anger; he's always had these kids' "best interests" at heart and he was looking to do right by Vince. While he's aware that Ornette is (as Street put it) a "problem," the breadth of that issue becomes all the more clear as the episode goes on.

I don't want to wish any ill-will on Vince but I do want him to wake up and see that the Lions aren't just a platform for him and his skill, that Ornette might not want what's best for him overall, and that he gets knocked down a few pegs. After all, we saw what all the glory and guts got poor Smash; it was only through perseverance and the help of Coach Taylor that he was able to play again and get his life back on track.

I can't help but wonder whether a similarly eye-opening experience is in the cards for Vince. After all, it wasn't just Vince who shown on the field in the game against the Panthers: Luke Cafferty was also a star in that game and I can't help but wonder if there isn't an ironic twist in the works in which Luke sneaks ahead once more of Vince.

As for Luke, he should know better than to ever take the advice of Billy Riggins. I loved the workout sequence between the two as Billy looks to Luke as Tim 2.0, training him in the same way that he trained his brother (lifting fenders and propane tanks). But by ignoring Becky and giving her the cold shoulder, Luke risked alienating her altogether. However, I was pleased that the two finally had some words after the game and Luke came clean about his "plan" to win her over and how he was surprised that she liked when he was nice to her. (Oh, Luke, you've got a lot to learn about women.)

And the two--FINALLY!--shared a kiss. It's been an interesting rollercoaster between the two of them, a the start of a real relationship between Luke and Becky after last season's pregnancy and abortion and the thawing of the iciness between them. Plus, the two of them are just adorable together.

Elsewhere, Julie Taylor continued her shame spiral, as she still refuses to return to school, or really to even leave the house. I'm glad to see that last week's drag-out fight between the Taylors didn't permanently damage Eric and Tami's relationship, as they both seem to be on the same page about their daughter now. Julie needs some tough love but she also needs support. If she's unable to go back to school right now, she'll at least complete her coursework and finish the semester. Tami believes in forcing Julie to take on responsibilities at home (dropping off and picking up her sister, cleaning up, and running errands) and Tami herself drives to Julie's college to get her books and work, where she runs into Derek himself.

I was stunned to see just how cool Derek played his scene with Tami, inquiring about Julie but never once apologizing or expressing any guilt in her decision not to return to school after the encounter with his wife. No real emotion, at all. And I was glad to see that Tami kept things business-like and civil, though her true venomous feelings towards Derek were written all over her face. No smiles, no friendliness, no questions.

Meanwhile, Eric and Tami are fine, thankfully. I loved the scene where she climbed into bed with him and he asked if she wanted to fool around... only to have her fall asleep on him within seconds. Ah, married life.

But it was Tami's sadness and her line ("You need to study") to Julie upon returning that stuck with me long after the episode ended. It's a Tami that we haven't seen much of lately, a nearly defeated one, a mother trying to do best by her daughter, trying to push her towards fulfilling her potential. Just as Eric's own sadness, the loss of grace in their victory over the Panthers, as he watched Ornette and Vince chatting up those recruiters in the parking lot, revealed just how disappointed he is in someone he cared for as well.

Our pasts might not matter (those released criminal records), but what does is what we do next, how we roll from adversity, how we carry ourselves when we lose and when we win. And that lesson was, most depressingly, lost on Vince and on the Lions.

New episodes of Friday Night Lights will return on Wednesday, January 5th at 9 pm ET/PT on DirecTV's The 101 Network. On the next episode ("Fracture"), Coach fears he's beginning to lose his grip on the team; Tami worries that one of her students is being neglected; Vince alienates his teammates; Becky enters a beauty pageant.

Crossroads: Truth and Consequences on Friday Night Lights

And that's how you do a pitch-perfect episode of Friday Night Lights.

I've been on the writers' case this season for the handling of the Julie Taylor storyline, or more specifically from the, er, swerve it made into the territory of cliche. I can only hope that it was a case of taking a shortcut to get Julie to the here and now as quickly as possible because the ramifications of Julie's actions have proven infinitely more exciting and provocative than the actual commission of her affair with married head TA Derek Bishop.

This week's fantastic episode of Friday Night Lights ("Swerve") delivered an installment that offered a look at the sacrifices and frayed bonds of family, contrasting the fallout from Julie's transgression--and its effects on Eric and Tami--with the way that Vince handled his own plight, turning to Ornette for help out of a terrible situation.

The way Ornette may have handled Vince's situation might not have been what Vince had intended, as Ornette not only resorted to violence but may have placed himself and their entire family at risk from retaliation. I watched the rest of the episode expecting gunfire to erupt as Vince and Jess' families came together in one perfect moment of unity. Even though the episode ended without any violence, I'm not entirely sure that the other shoe won't drop yet...

Vince has of late been all about honesty, even when it has a nasty way of backfiring, from Ornette's violent outburst (in defense of his family) to Luke's crushed feelings upon learning that Vince was the object of TMU's interest and not him. It was interesting to me that Vince nearly went to Coach Taylor with his situation but instead chose to keep the problem within the family, coming clean to his father about what had happened and asking for help.

It's something that Julie hasn't been able to do. While the episode split the focus between Vince, Luke (and Billy's ascension to the role of Coach Taylor, Jr.), and Julie, it was the latter's storyline which had the most searing impact. Julie's behavior this season has been out of character entirely; she slept with Derek knowing fully that he was married, despite his line about being emotionally disconnected from his wife. Her attempt to flee Dillon wasn't a result of a broken heart but rather embarrassment at being called out by Derek's wife in front of her dorm mates.

In fleeing to her parents' home, Julie attempts to run away from her problems. Her arrival last week was an act of denial, an attempt to delay the inevitable. But Julie takes her denial a step further this week, intentionally crashing her car into a neighbor's yard and lying to her parents in an effort to buy some more time. But Julie doesn't want to go back to college; she's been humiliated but she's also not accepting responsibility for what she's done, nor the gravity of the line that she's crossed.

When she does come clean to her parents, it's through Tami that she unburdens herself and receives a mother's unconditional love. Tami believes that they need to support Julie and offer compassion; Eric disagrees. He believes that what Julie needs is tough love. But what Tami doesn't know--or doesn't want to accept--is that Julie compounded her transgressions by lying to them. She did intentionally crash her car. She did lie about it. She does offer up platitudes that she believes her parents want to hear ("I'm sorry I disappointed you") rather than words of sincerity. Or words that prove that she is aware of the damage she's caused.

Julie's actions have driven a wedge between the Taylors. The scene in which Eric attempts to drag Julie--literally kicking and screaming--down the hall and into her car was painful to watch in the best possible sense. As Eric physically grabbed Julie and pulled her, Julie's childlike tantrum echoed through the narrow hall, as Tami screamed out at her husband.

It was a side of the Taylors that we've not seen up until now. They've faced their problems as any married couple have and despite disagreements, they've always been a unified front, a single entity locked together against the world. Here, we're seeing them come apart at the seams. That separation symbolized solemnly in the scene where Eric comes home to find Tami, half-empty wineglass by her side, asleep on the couch. He doesn't wake his wife nor does he talk her. It's the first major communication breakdown between the two we've seen.

What Eric does do is go to sit beside Gracie, to see his younger daughter in her innocence and namesake grace, unsullied by the world, undamaged by the choices she might later make in life. For this child, anything is still possible and he desperately wants to believe in her innate innocence and beauty. Julie's aforementioned words to her father, spoken softly from the doorway, receive no reply.

Eric, Kingmaker though he might be, that molder of men, has failed to raise his oldest daughter properly.

That realization its home in a major way for the Lion's coach, though he's guilty of walking away from an uncomfortable situation (Luke Cafferty) just as much as his daughter. But what Eric doesn't see is that Julie is an adult and that both he and Tami are right in a way. Julie DOES need to accept responsibility for her actions and to accept what she did was wrong but she also does need her parents' love and support in order to get through this.

Eric is a good father--no one, after all, can ever strive for perfection at that particular job--and a damn good coach. He is a molder and a motivator of men both on and off the field. The fact that Billy stepped in at the last minute to deliver an Eric Taylor-style motivational speech to the players--and took a drunk Luke under his wing--proved that Eric's moral fiber has rubbed off on those around him.

Julie's actions aren't the result of bad parenting or of a lack of discipline. She's an adult and she's going to fail. She will make mistakes and her parents have to hope that she's able to pull herself up again afterward and that she realizes the errors she's made.

What concerns me is that the fallout from Julie's actions will affect Eric and Tami's marriage directly. (Connie Britton told me a few months ago that we would see the two involved in a dynamic that we haven't seen so far. This would seem to be the beginning of just that.) I don't believe that this will be the end of the Taylors but I do think that their marriage--and perhaps, temporarily, the way they view one another--will be challenged by their reactions to Julie's behavior.

Complex, emotionally resonant, and grounded, "Swerve" is not only the very best of the fifth season to date, putting it on par with its fantastic season opener. It's one installment that will stay with me for quite some time to come and one with lasting repercussions for the residents of Dillon and for the families at the series' heart.

What did you think of "Swerve"? And was Eric's reaction toward his daughter's actions justified? Did you side with him or Tami? And did you love that scene between Luke and Becky at the post-victory party that Mindy orchestrated? (I did.) Head to the comments section to discuss.

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("Perfect Record"), rivalry week stirs up controversy; Vince is caught in the middle between Coach and Ornette; Billy takes Luke under his wing.

Kingdom Come: Fry Bread and Breakdowns on Friday Night Lights

"Julie Taylor is a slut!"

Let's be honest about this: we all knew that Derek Bishop was bad news and we all knew that it would come to this, a screaming match in a crowded college setting in which his wife railed at Julie for sleeping with her husband.

Or at least, it's what I've suspected--and dreaded--for some time now. I've been upfront about my dislike for Julie Taylor's storyline this season and the way that her college experience, summed up by her relationship with doctoral candidate/TA/fry bread-addict Derek has veered sharply into cliche, which is something that Friday Night Lights doesn't typically do.

Julie's arc thus far this season has seemed to be the means to an end: the way to get Julie back to Dillon without her just dropping out of college, despite her ambition and her smarts. Enter the crazy wife of Derek, with a well-timed rant (even if I found it hard to stomach that this PhD candidate would mispronounce "cliche") and a sharp slap across Julie's face. Yes, Julie, there are consequences.

This week's episode of Friday Night Lights ("Kingdom"), written by Rolin Jones and directed by Patrick Norris, didn't focus entirely on the Julie/Derek storyline but their affair hovered uneasily over what was otherwise a fantastic installment. Julie's own shocking naivete was paralelled in Luke Cafferty's. His belief that TMU wanted both him and Vince will likely come back to haunt him. The two might be "brothers," branded forever as Lions, but likely this relationship is going to hit the skids once Luke realizes just what is going on with the TMU recruiters.

Luke, as we've seen throughout the last two seasons, sees the best in everyone and expects that things will work out. Despite injury, defeat, Becky's pregnancy, he seems to have an innate belief in optimism and providence. His rivalry with Vince has transformed into something closer to brotherhood, their team a pride of Lions. (I loved Luke's drunken depiction of "pride.") By branding themselves, by "walking through the fire, they make their commitment to the team and to each other permanent, a visible reminder of the bond they share. But nothing in life is permanent.

I'm glad that Vince and Ornette are heeding Coach Taylor's advice and allowing him to be the liaison with TMU and I'm glad that Vince was upfront with Luke, even though Coach told him to keep the news under his hat. But Luke is going to be heartbroken when his vision of the two of them on the TMU field doesn't come to pass. Did he damage his own chances by bringing Vince to TMU in the first place? And will he come to resent his teammate once the truth becomes apparent?

Glad to see Buddy Jr. already enmeshed in the group, from his flirtation with the lipstick girl (loved that he snagged the lipstick as a memento) to the rawness of his arm, post-branding. The guys may have hazed him a bit throughout the episode but his decision to get branded reflected his passion and devotion to the team. And it was fantastic to see him so out of his element, having entered Hastings' world. (As well as seeing Billy get to use his Riggins' Rigs knowledge to get the team to Kingdom.)

Kudos too to Coach for realizing that if the team is going to make it to State that they have to embrace the rough side of things, bring the street to the football field and that they need to play smart and play rough if they have any chance of victory. His inclination proved correct and those "forfeit" signs came down pretty quickly once the team shifted into high gear. But Eric also seemed to be somewhat haunted as well. He's been a man of morals, on and off the field, and his disinterest in the poker game seemed to reveal that his decision to play tough was eating at him a little bit.

I loved his semi-drunken call to Tami ("what are you wearing?") and Tami's own drunkenness with Laurel (four bottles of wine between the two of them!), which may have accounted for her sheer joy at seeing Julie return home to, uh, do some laundry. Tami's loneliness, with Eric away and her daughter at school, may have clouded her perception here. The implication with Julie's arrival in Dillon is that she might not be returning to school and her attitude was cagey and furtive, something that Tami--in her happiness--failed to pick up on.

I'm happy to see the writers further developing Laurel and giving Tami a sounding board. (My only complaint was that this episode was, by necessity, Tami-light.) Their drunken conversation was a nice counterpoint to the tension on the field. But my favorite moment had to be Coach silently listening to his players on their hotel balconies as he tried to carve out a moment of solitude. From learning a bit more about Hastings (he's been in Kingdom before and has moved around a lot) to Tinker's misunderstanding of how the hotel minibar and pay-per-view worked, it fused together a comedic situation with something deeper and more poignant.

Which is something that Friday Night Lights does like no other series.

It might be why the Julie situation has gotten under my skin in the way that it has. FNL doesn't go for the obvious or the cliche, so the fact that the turning points in Julie's arc have been glaring like spotlights has rubbed me the wrong way. Yes, it seems intended to bring Julie back into the fray and return her to Dillon but I wish things had played out differently. Or at least not quite as predictably.

What do you think? Am I being too hard on Julie Taylor and her current storyline? Or have the writers lost their way a little with this one? Head to the comment section to discuss.

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("Swerve"), a popular magazine hails Coach Taylor as the Kingmaker; Vince's past catches up to him when an old acquaintance demands he pay his debt; Luke reacts to the truth about TMU; a suspicious car accident delays Julie's return to college.

Fathers and Sons: Conflict and Compassion on Friday Night Lights

After last week's Julie Taylor-related catastrophe, I was extremely pleased that this week's episode of Friday Night Lights ("Keep Looking"), written by Bridget Carpenter and directed by Todd McMullen, fell back into the pattern of greatness that the series is known for.

This week's episode offered an examination of the often contentious relationship between fathers and sons, summed up in the juxtaposition of Vince's struggles with his ex-con father Ornette and Buddy's attempts to drum some tough love into his angsty teenage son Buddy Jr.

In this case the dynamics were flipped on their head, with Vince struggling to determine whether he could trust his father, and laying down the law now that he's reentered his and his mother's lives. While his mom is happy to dwell on the more rose-colored memories of the past, Vince can't let go of what his father's absence meant to the family, the missed birthdays and moments, and the fact that he blames Ornette for getting his mom hooked on drugs. Across town, Buddy attempts to drum some semblance of responsibility into his rebellious son and, not surprisingly, pushes him to join the East Dillon Lions.

While it was obvious that Buddy Jr. would eventually join the Lions, the beauty of the episode was how well it dealt with this eventuality, following Buddy Jr. as he brushed off Tami at school (and later made a joke about her "rack" over dinner) and then broke into Buddy's bar and got drunk. But the writers made both Buddy Jr.'s malaise and speed palpable, demonstrating just how fast he can run when Buddy and Eric spotted him at a convenient store and took off after him. (He had, after all, stolen Buddy's credit card and his car.)

I was hoping that the writers would deal with the fact that Buddy now owns a bar rather than the ubiquitous car dealership we've seen him running the past four seasons, but it's in keeping with the down-turned economy that Buddy's car business would have hit the skids, so to speak. But rather than gloss over it, Carpenter here focuses on how the dealership is still an open wound for Buddy, its "for lease" signs a painful reminder of yet another failure, something that Buddy Jr. doesn't hesitate to dredge up, a verbal slap across his father's face.

The disparities between Buddy Jr. and Vince are all the more felt during the course of this installment; Buddy Jr.'s gripes are of the seitan variety, while Vince's anger at his father comes from a place of responsibility, of having to care for his junkie mother and keep his family together. Both have been hurt, it seems, by decisions made by their fathers but Buddy refuses to let his son slide. He may have moved away but he's sticking by his decision to raise his son on his own in Dillon. Vince may not need Ornette, but Buddy Jr. definitely needs Buddy. (And vice-versa, it would seem.)

Football is, after all, in his blood, as Buddy tells Eric. It's only natural that his son would end up on the Lions, even if he claims to know next to nothing about the game. It's a smart move that makes Buddy's laser-like focus on the team even more concentrated now that he has a personal investment in the success of the team, beyond that of mere booster or football fan.

Ornette's pride, meanwhile, rubs Vince the wrong way. It seems almost put on, for show, an effort to prove to his son that he cares. Or at least, that's how Vince sees it, and he's grimly determined to keep his father away from that area of his life, refusing to introduce him to Eric on the field. Can these two find a way to live together, to coexist? And with Vince's future brighter than ever, is this going to hold him back from achieving his dreams? (After all, those coaches gathering around Vince at TMU seem to want to recruit him rather badly.)

And then there's the matter of Jess. I loved the scene where Jess held her own against the guys, coming back at their catcalls and teasing with all manner of burns. But Vince can't quite handle allowing Jess to stand on her own two feet and turn the other cheek when his teammates are ragging on their new equipment manager. The scene where Eric told them that they couldn't be a couple on the field or in the lockerroom was hysterical, but it reveals another characteristic to Vince, one that's in keeping with his conflict with Ornette: he wants to protect the women in his life. But there's a difference between protecting and cloistering, and Vince has to let both his mother and Jess find their own way and make their own decision... and fight their own battles.

(I am a little concerned though by how willing Billy was to steal Jess' observation about Tinker. While she may have smiled blithely about being right, it was her keen insight that may have saved Tinker, after all.)

Eric and Tami, meanwhile, are feeling the loss of Julie from their house. This week's episode was fortunately light on the Julie/Derek plot (though we did get two scenes between the pair) as they continued their inane dance of courtship before ending up in bed together again. Tami's effort at homework club (and dealing with at-risk Epyck) hit a bit of a wall, thanks to Epyck's aggressive streak (leading her to get suspended once more) and Tami's own rusty math skills. Attempting to call Julie led only to voicemail as usual, while Eric's sadness was summed up in his glance at a family photo, a sad reminder of their somewhat empty nest.

If only they knew what their daughter was up to...

But the episode wasn't just about fathers and sons as Becky had to deal with the return of her father, who demanded that she move back in with him and her step-mother. Or else. Becky reluctantly complied, even as she and Mindy finally forged a bond, perhaps one that echoed Mindy's own relationship with younger sister Tyra. (Also, as an aside: I loved Luke's words to Becky that he will ask her out and they will go out on a date together. Adorableness all around.)

I loved the scene between Mindy and Becky after Mindy learned that she'd been bumped to a day shift at The Landing Strip after returning from her maternity leave. Becky's peppy nature and her innate optimism did buck up Mindy's spirits considerably, as she urged her to negotiate with the manager. While Mindy was dead set against Becky moving in with them earlier this season, something has changed as they've forged something akin to a family unit, Becky stepping into the role of babysitter/younger sister to Mindy, Tim's football photo staring back them.

Which is why I was so proud of Mindy for not allowing Becky to go back to that house with her "redneck" step-mother and horrible father. As soon as I saw the altercation unfolding at Becky's house, I knew Mindy would do the right thing and step in... and bring Becky back home with her. It was a clear reminder that, for all that Tyra and Mindy have gone through, they always had their mother Angela to support them. Becky is all on her own, a lost girl being yanked around by people who aren't really her family, virtual strangers who are living in her home.

And if Friday Night Lights has taught us anything, it's that the lost and the hopeless can regain their footing. Sometimes all it takes is a helping hand, some tough love, or simply a warm place to stay.

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("Kingdom"), Coach Taylor discusses recruitment regulations with Vince and his father Ornette and when the Lions take a road trip, four of their stars make a pact that will stay with them forever; Julie's inappropriate relationship with Derek becomes even more complicated.

Striving to Be Better: Expectations and Deviations on Friday Night Lights

I'm just going to say it upfront: I'm hating Julie's storyline.

I always like to give Friday Night Lights the benefit of the doubt when it comes to storytelling (except, maybe, for the murder conspiracy storyline in Season Two), but the weakness of the current college plot for Julie Taylor (Aimee Teegarden) was all the more apparent this week when it was juxtaposed with the strength and grace of the storyline for Vince (Michael B. Jordan).

This week's episode of Friday Night Lights ("The Right Hand of the Father"), written by Patrick Massett and John Zinman and directed by David Boyd, attempted to balance the two plots, as well as a third about striving to be a better person in light of last week's disastrous party and the drunken behavior of Maura (Denise Williamson) but it didn't quite all come together for me in the end, due to the lackluster nature of that Julie subplot.

Which is a bit of a disappointment, as Jordan's Vince delivered some powerful and affecting scenes in which he attempted to balance the expectations placed on him by Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler) and his father, newly released from prison, with his own bruised feelings and innate needs. Viewed within those contexts, the episode was a resounding success as it followed what could have been a familiar plot trajectory and instead made it is own, exploring whether we can change as human beings and how much change we're capable of achieving.

The return of his father--and the fact that Vince's mom Regina (Angela Rawna) seems to welcome him with open arms--doesn't go over well with Vince, who has been pushed into the role of man of the house for so long that he sees his father as both interloper and bad influence, punishing him for Regina's addiction and for turning his back on his family. Despite the fact that his father wants to make amends, wants to get to know him, and wants to see him play, Vince wants nothing to do with this man.

Which makes their final scene all the more vital and important, as Vince takes his father's hand and shakes it. It's a rare moment of connection between them as well as a sign that Vince did take Coach's words to heart: Vince is attempting to be a better Vince than anyone expects. It's a reversal of the sullen Vince we saw earlier in the episode as he gives into defeat in the parking lot and sends the team home and the angry Vince we saw in Coach's office. (When he threw something across the room and exploded, I loved how calm and collected Eric was, allowing Vince to vent and cool down and not provoking him further.)

But it's also telling that Vince doesn't chase after his dad after he packs his things and leaves, apologizing for intruding. It would have been unrealistic if he had done so and it wouldn't have been true to the struggles of this character. We can attempt to change, attempt to be better people, but it doesn't mean that we can ever achieve sainthood. Vince made huge progress in his struggles with his father and while he walked out to the landing to watch him leave, he bit his tongue and didn't call after him.

That moment might be all that ever passes between them but it was a genuine moment of understanding, as his father realized it was the first time he ever felt pride and he expressed his love for his son in the only way he knew how, a different declaration than this man would have made before his incarceration.

The struggles of fatherhood were part and parcel of this episode as Buddy (Brad Leland) grappled with what to do about his misbehaving son Buddy Jr., finally telling his ex-wife to send the boy to live with him. Given that Buddy has been parenting from afar from some time, it will be interesting to see just what it means to see Buddy as a hands-on parent again. And I couldn't help but think back to that derailed Santiago plot from a few season back (which remained unresolved due to the writers strike of 2007/08). It was Buddy's turn to rise above expectations and, instead of punishing his ex-wife or her new husband, take responsibility for his son and place his child's needs before his own. It's time for some tough love, Buddy Garrity style.

Tami (Connie Britton), meanwhile, attempted to snap the rally girls out of their stupor after footage of Maura being used as a rag doll at last week's party made their way onto the internet. Maura's shocking apathy, as well as that of the other girls, was eye-opening for Tami, who gave an impassioned speech about bad reputations and downwardly mobile behavior patterns to a disinterested crowd. (It's telling that perhaps only Jess and Becky seemed to be paying attention.)

Seeing an opportunity to make some positive change, Tami pushes Jess (Jurnee Smollett) to pursue a role as equipment manager for the East Dillon Lions... without clearing if with Eric first. (Oops.) But while Tami is able to win Eric over, it's actually Vince who's uncomfortable with the idea of Jess being the lockerroom with the guys. I'm curious to see just where this storyline is going as it will be interesting to see Jess interact with the team, with Coach Taylor, and with the team's all-male coaching staff.

But while Tami's speech may have spurred Jess to action, it seems clear that the real audience Tami needs to deliver this diatribe to is her own daughter, Julie.

As I mentioned earlier, I'm so disappointed by the way in which Julie's current storyline is unfolding that it actually made me angry to watch her portions of the episode this week. We've known ever since "head TA" Derek Bishop was introduced that the two would end up sleeping with one another and I haven't been too enamored of their interactions to date. It's possibly due to the lackluster energy of the actor playing Derek, who isn't quite a charming as he needs to be in order to pull off such a rote plot.

But the fact that we learned this week that Derek is actually married (to a woman who is on a sabbatical, posing questions as to whether she's a grad student or a professor) and Julie jumped into bed with him without stopping to think that she is willing to have sex with a married man made me question this plotline as a whole. Julie has made mistakes before, but her lack of judgment and her seemingly willingness not to question the situation (and to fall for Derek's cheesy lines about he and his wife not "really" being married) had me scratching my head. Yes, Julie is attempting to seize the moment and she's not fitting in at all at school but I'm hoping the speed with which she extricated herself from Derek's bed the morning after points towards some realization that she made a mistake.

And for all his talk about Julie's potential, he still gave her a poor grade on her essay. I'm not sure of Derek's game but I don't like it and I'm holding out hope that this storyline--an attempt to give Julie a life outside of Dillon--either takes her to some interesting and unexpected places or brings her swiftly back to Dillon, post-haste.

What did you think of this week's episode? Do you agree about the Julie storyline? And do you find it as irritating as I do? Or are you curious to see where it leads? Head to the comments section to debate.

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("Keep Looking"), Coach Taylor is forced to play mediator as tensions erupt in the locker room; the Lions also welcome a new player and Luke is recruited by TMU; Buddy deals with the trials and tribulations of fatherhood; Becky's dad returns; Tami counsels a troubled student named Epyck.

Outsiders: Cynicism and Optimism on Friday Night Lights

"State."

Throughout the four-plus season run of Friday Night Lights, we've gotten quite a few inspirational speeches from Coach Taylor, spirit-rallying calls to action, soul-stirring St. Crispin's Day speeches intended to join men into a single unit, to merge them together into a single entity before they leap once more into the fray.

Sometimes, however, all it takes is a single word scrawled on a dry-erase board.

On this week's episode of Friday Night Lights ("On the Outside Looking In"), written by Kerry Ehrin and directed by Michael Waxman, a number of stories about isolation and unity tumbled together in an appealingly loose fashion. There was the nicely rendered parallel stories of Tami and Julie, each adrift in their own way, desperately seeking to fit into an environment that has them ill at ease.

Despite the distance between mother and daughter, they're linked here by a taut thematic thread. For Tami, it's an effort to fit into her new surroundings as the guidance counselor at East Dillon. She's got her work cut out for her, given the apathy of her fellow teachers, the disinterest of the parents, and the outright hostility of some of the students, including at-risk Epic. Julie, meanwhile, can't quite fit in at college. She's got a roommate who is less interested in getting to know her and more interested in, uh, getting to know the opposite sex.

Better news, however, for Vince, who receives a tonnage of letters of intent from various colleges. The look of shock on his face when Eric explained just what those letters were and the look of pride and love on the face of his struggling mother spoke volumes about just what Vince has been able to accomplish since he joined the Lions last year. It's the first taste of the power of the game beyond the joy of winning; it's the realization that it's a transformative experience, one that can forever change both his and his mother's lives if he sticks to the straight and narrow.

He's also become a bit of a local hero, in the light of his performance on the field. From the free lunch to the fact that he's able to get his mom a better job with Bob at the garden supply center, he's experiencing a sense of fame and power that he never has in the past. We've seen other plays utilize their local weight in the past, but I can't think of a time (perhaps with Matt Saracen) where we've seen the first inklings of change rumble in their heads.

But Vince has some other issues. For one, there's the threat that Maura clearly poses to his relationship with Jess. Maura has made it clear that she intends to steal Vince away, going so far as to put her panties in his locker, something that enrages Jess and leads to a full on girl fight in the bathroom. (It also leads, later, to Jess getting blindly drunk at the party in an effort to compete with Maura.) I'm a little concerned about just where this storyline is leading, particularly with Maura drunkenly being lead off-screen by several guys. (Could it be that we're seeing another rape storyline spring up, one that's perhaps less melodramatic than Season Two's revenge plot for Landry and Tyra?)

The Lions themselves, despite their surprising victory last week, aren't ranked... and the tackle that Luke made during that game is under investigation. Was it a clean hit? Is there a safety issue? And will Luke be suspended as a result?

The answer to the last one, this being Friday Night Lights, is yep. Despite Eric's insistence that the entire hearing is politically motivated because the Lions beat a team that they weren't supposed to beat, Luke is suspended for one game, a twist of fate that sends him racing to the bottle.

I thought it interesting that Luke's rage should be so directed at newbie Hastings and that it was Becky--given their shared history--who intervenes and gets Luke home safely. The boy still clearly has feelings for her (he was so desperate to get her as a rally girl) and he went so far as to trade his pig (!!!) to Tinker in order to land Becky as his rally girl.

But despite what Becky might feel, there was no way she was going into his house with Luke as drunk as he was. Her "not tonight" was just ambiguous enough to imply that on another night, under other circumstances, maybe she would have gone inside. I'm concerned though that that history, the thing that binds them together, might be the wedge that keeps them apart. How does one recover from what happened to the two of them? And the fact that Luke's mother went so far as to try to get Tami fired for even counseling Becky in the first place? Hmm...

I loved Mindy's fury when Becky came in late, after she chewed out Billy for the girl even staying with them in the first place. (Her Jon/Kate/nanny analogy was classic.) Whereas other teens may have been defensive about getting yelled at by someone who isn't even their mother, Becky's smile showed that she's not used to someone even noticing that she's not home... and that she might actually enjoy the attention and worry for a change.

As for Tami, she attempted to launch a volunteer tutoring program and tried to get the other teachers to offer some of their time but the "homework club" seemed to rub everyone the wrong way. Despite the conversation between Eric and Tami about catching more flies with honey than vinegar, Tami's very optimism--one of her great strengths--seems to be working against her with such a defeated, apathetic group. Despite not fitting in at all, she makes an effort to attend the weekly happy hour (an invitation very reluctantly offered) and makes a quick exit after getting a drink spilled on her. But she does win over one teacher--Laurel--who offers to volunteer. And she does get Epic to turn up for their meeting. Baby steps!

Julie, meanwhile, finds herself on the outs with just about everyone, though I do find it hard to believe that a beautiful girl like Julie wouldn't have the freshman guys swarming around her. She seems bored by her classes and by college life in general. (The girl isn't even in a study group! Horror!) She attends the history department mixer and spars with her TA, Derek Bishop, about the outcome of a classic football game, repeatedly telling him that there is a 36 throwback in the game. (He very wrongly doesn't believe her.) From their next meeting, it's abundantly clear that he's intended to be a new love interest for Julie but I question whether, as a freshman, she should be getting into bed with her graduate TA. This will end badly...

Eric, meanwhile, isn't going to give into defeat, even with the armaments being turned on the team from all directions. As I mentioned earlier, I loved that rather than give another moving speech, a Clear Eyes, Full Hearts shout-out, he very simply wrote "state" on the board. It's a direction, a goal, a mission. And it's very likely where the series finale of Friday Night Lights is heading. One can only hope for a victory, an opportunity for this ragtag team to come together and bring home the ultimate prize. I can't help but get misty-eyed just thinking about it...

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("The Right Hand of the Father"), someone from Vince's past resurfaces; Julie connects with a faculty member; Eric tries to instill discipline in the team; Buddy is troubled after learning something about his son.

Of Lions and Lambs: Thoughts on the Season Premiere of Friday Night Lights

"I'm going to miss this." - Eric Taylor

Those words, spoken by Kyle Chandler's Eric Taylor in the season premiere of Friday Night Lights ("Expectations"), written by David Hudgins and directed by Michael Waxman, are said as he looks over at the minor squabble developing between wife Tami (Connie Britton) and daughter Julie (Aimee Teegarden). But that simple sentence, offered in a sweet and rather sad tone, might as well encapsulate the overall feeling of the audience: we're going to miss this too.

Even though the "this" in question might be yet flare-up of adolescence angst from Julie Taylor. But it's the fact that the Taylors are together, engaged in the regular rigors of daily life, that the entire declarative statement takes on bigger meaning. Change is coming for the Taylors, with Julie heading off the school. Their family is once again being split up and those breakfasts, those arguments, those stolen moments are soon to be a thing of the past.

The arrival of the fifth season marks the beginning of the end, as it were, of Friday Night Lights and the installment plays up this sensation by offering a series of farewells, most notably from Julie and Landry (Jesse Plemons), each heading off to a new life at university. At its heart, Friday Night Lights has echoed the rhythms and patterns of quotidian life: seasons pass, people come and go, lovers come together. Life goes on as it always does, with friends returning, children growing older, parents realizing just how quickly time has passed.

I'm tempted to speed through this final season but I also want to savor it, knowing that it's the very end of our stay in Dillon, a town that's largely changed from when we first encountered it in the pilot episode. But, hold on though we might want to, just like Eric, we too can't stop the passing of time.

You read my advance review of the first two episodes of Friday Night Lights's fifth season, but now that the episode has aired, you'll find my more specific (and spoilery) thoughts about the season premiere. (Though I've watched the next episode, I've kept my comments limited to just the season opener.)

"Expectations" did a marvelous job of showing the audience just where we are and where we're going this season, dropping us once again at the end of summer and the edge of the new school year, as Julie leaves for college and Tami settles into her new job as the guidance counselor at East Dillon, a professional change that reunites her with Eric.

But as Julie clashes with her parents about everything from buying supplies to driving herself, it's just one of many family issues developing. Tami and Eric's attempt to hold on just a little bit longer to their daughter results in some hurt feelings as Julie brushes off Tami's homemade fruit cobbler to see Landry's band perform on his last night in Dillon.

And what a last night it is, as Crucivictorious plays what might just be their final show, Julie and Landry have a tete-a-tete outside the Alamo Freeze, and Julie treats Landry to some fun at The Landing Strip, offering him something that approximates the "epic" final night in town that he desired. (I loved that he made a specific trip to say goodbye to Lorraine Saracen, a scene that paid homage both to the friendship between Landry and Matt but also between Landry and Lorraine.) The best bit? Landry's "You stay golden, Julie." Classic.

(While Landry heads off to Rice University in Houston, I thought it interesting that no mention was made of just what college Julie was attending. Odd, no?)

But Julie's squabbles are minor compared to the weighty issues at play in other households. Becky (Madison Burge) has been living with her father and his new wife while her mom is working on a casino boat. It's an arrangement that's not really working out for any of the parties involved and it's just a matter of time before things implode there... or at least until Becky seeks out new accommodations.

Naturally, her desire for some stability at home leads her towards the closest thing she recognizes as family: the Rigginses. Despite the fact that Tim (Taylor Kitsch) is still in prison--he has another three months left on his sentence after good behavior--she heads over to Billy (Derek Phillips) and Mindy (Stacey Oristano) to see if they'll let her move in.

After all, Tim did take the fall for Billy and is serving time so that Billy can be with his family... and Billy did promise to look after Becky. It's only natural then that Becky should turn to these two for help. The only problem being that these two haven't ever raised a teenager and they have a new baby to care for. Whether Becky will be able to find a place in the Riggins' household remains to be seen, but I'm curious to see just where the writers intend to take this storyline.

Tim, meanwhile, is far different than the charmer we first met way back when in Season One. Sullen, depressed, and defeated, he pushes both Billy and Becky away, telling his brother that neither of them need to visit him as much as they do. His isolation, his loneliness, are all the more keenly felt, despite his insistence that he be left alone. (In fact, isolation seems to be the underlying theme in both of the first two installments of the season.)

In an effort to "give something back," Billy pushes Coach Taylor for a football coaching position at East Dillon, saying that Eric is a "molder of men," a callback to a compliment that Tami once paid Eric back in the day. According to Billy, "It would be a good idea for me to be around someone like you right now."

For her part, Tami is finding it difficult to integrate herself into the infrastructure--or the crumbling infrastructure--at East Dillon, as she encounters ennui and resistance from her fellow teachers. Once again, the at-risk students are falling through the cracks and the teachers would rather not deal with them, period. It's interesting to see Tami struggle in this way. Her sunny disposition is clearly at odds with the sort of larger problems facing this school, her office tucked out of the way, her phone not even connected. If Tami has any hopes of reaching these kids, it's going to be a Sisyphean endeavor.

Elsewhere, we got a chance to see that Jess (Jurnee Smollett) and Vince (Michael B. Jordan) are still together and still happy in couplehood, even though Jess has her hands full at home, with her dad's recent franchising extravaganza. But there is some potential tension brewing between Jess and the team's newest recruit, Hastings Ruckle (True Blood's Grey Damon), best seen during their free spirit/coward scene during the party thrown by Luke (Matt Lauria) specifically to recruit basketball player Hastings to the Lions. Whether Hastings will prove to be the wedge that drives Jess and Vince apart remains to be seen, but there were definitely sparks there between Jess and Hastings, hippy or no. (I also loved Hastings' contention that football rewarded the basest elements of American society, something that Eric took umbrage with immediately.)

As for Luke, he has issues of his own, namely a key tackle during a game in which the Lions beat one of the state's best teams, an unexpected victory that makes the team roar. The fact that the player involved, Cody Pearl, didn't immediately get up gave me flashbacks to Jason Street (Scott Porter) in the FNL pilot. While everything seems to be fine, the moment is played for tension... which means that it's likely to carry over into the next episode. While the team won, there's an underlying menace to the moment that has me wondering what new obstacle will spring up in front of this pride of lions.

The most emotional moment by far in this episode had to be the final ping pong game between Julie and Eric. I wondered whether Eric would be cross with Julie for coming home so late or if his conspiratorial tone would lead to a discussion about being nicer to Tami but instead he takes Julie out to the garage where they search for the paddles and take a trip down memory lane. It's an intimate moment in a series overflowing with them, one that pays testament to the relationship between these two characters in a realistic and grounded way. There are no big speeches, no melodramatic goodbyes, just a late-night ping pong game and an understated parting as Julie drives off. In true fatherly fashion, Eric shoves an envelope into Julie's hands before she leaves. "For emergencies," he says.

And then there were three.

It's not an easy thing to dramatize that leaving of the nest nor to make both sides of the equation immediately sympathetic. Her car overstuffed with the detritus of college life, Julie is bound for bigger and better things. While her parents are sad, they're also proud of their daughter. And they should be. Eric might be a "molder of men," but he and Tami are molders of everyone around them, pushing them towards being better people, better versions of themselves.

And television--and perhaps our own world--might be all the better for it.

What did you think of the season premiere? Did it live up to your own expectations? Head to the comments section to discuss.

Next week on Friday Night Lights ("On the Outside Looking In"), Coach finds out not everyone is pleased by the Lions strong showing in the season opener; Vince's newfound football stardom comes with perks; Luke faces consequences for his aggressive play.