Emmys: The Morning After (The Morning After)

No, it's not quite the morning after the Emmys but I spent yesterday recovering from a bit too much overindulgence the night before and still wanted to get in my thoughts about this year's Emmy awards before the door for such discussion slams shut.

Emmy host is a rather thankless job and we've seen, thanks to last year, just how much the show can go off the rails in the hands of less-than-qualified hosts. However, I thought that Neil Patrick Harris did a legendary job and infused the proceedings with wit, sparkle, and humor and kept things running smoothly. (Did we really only run over by a few minutes? Fantastic.)

I spent the evening carousing at two post-Emmy bashes, HBO's luxe red-hewed affair at the Pacific Design Center and AMC's latenight after-after-party at Chateau Marmont. Both fetes were absolutely, ridiculously fun and the stars were out in full-force for both events, with this gleeful partier catching glimpses of Jon Hamm, Glenn Close, Ricky Gervais, Chloe Sevigny, Kristin Bauer, Anna Camp, Maria Bello, Christina Hendricks, Daniel Dae Kim, Kevin Connolly, John Slattery, Grace Zabriski, Douglas Smith, Shirley MacLaine, Jemaine Clement, Bret McKenzie, Kristen Schaal, Anne Heche, Aaron Paul, Rose Byrne... and the list goes on and on. (That's just off the top of my head.)

I had a lovely time sitting with Top Chef judge Gail Simmons and her husband at the HBO event and discussing professional chefs, sci-fi TV, and a host of other topics and I got to catch up with Inbetweeners creator Iain Morris and his girlfriend, there to support Flight of the Conchords, for which Morris had written two episodes with writing partner Damon Beesley, and co-creator James Bobin, whom I interviewed recently for The Daily Beast, and ran into at the AMC party with Jemaine Clement. I also caught up with the always delightful Anna Camp of HBO's True Blood, who introduced me to her fiancé Michael Mosley, who will be a series regular on Scrubs this season.

And, at the AMC bash, I got to congratulate Mad Men creator Matthew Weiner--who was holding his two Emmys--on his two wins and he very kindly and graciously thanked me for the piece I did on him and Mad Men for The Daily Beast recently, saying that it was a pleasure to be interviewed by someone who genuinely loves the series. (Aw!)

So what did I think of the awards themselves? Let's discuss. (The full list of award winners can be found here.)

I'll admit that I watched the awards ceremony via an East Coast feed while I was getting ready but that it seemed to be moving at a pretty even speed and Harris provided a charming host throughout the evening, looking quite dashing in a white tuxedo and managing to make me roar with laughter during his Dr. Horrible-style takeover of the airwaves, buffering and all. (The fact that I was watching the Primetime Emmys on a computer made this gag even more hysterical and meta.)

As for the awards themselves, they were more or less pretty predictable, though there were some nice surprises spread throughout the evening. I was thrilled to see Kristin Chenoweth take home an Outstanding Supporting Actress statuette for her role as Olive Snook on Pushing Daisies , a bittersweet posthumous (for the series, not Cheno) acknowledgment of the whimsical series. (By the same token, however, I'd have much rather seen Tina Fey take home the prize for Outstanding Actress in a Comedy to match Alec Baldwin's win for Jack Donaghy, rather than United States of Tara's Toni Colette.)

I was thrilled that Little Dorrit and Grey Gardens took home some prizes in the movies and mini-series categories; both were excellent examples of how classy, upscale longform can still work on television and I was extremely chuffed that BBC/PBS mini Little Dorrit took home the top mini-series prize and writing for Andrew Davies. (If you haven't seen Davies' Little Dorrit, get thee to a video store--or Netflix--straightaway.) And, despite many critics saying that the movies/mini-series section of the ceremony dragged on for far too long, I loved Jessica Lange's acceptance speech and Ken Howard's Kanye West allusion. Unexpected, that.

I love The Amazing Race but I was really hoping that the addictive and slick Top Chef would take home the gold for Bravo this year. It's such a fantastic format and, as much as I adore TAR, I am ready to see it sit out from the reality competition category for one year at least.

Michael Emerson and Cherry Jones were about as professional as can be and I loved Cherry's promise that she was going to plonk down her Emmy on the craft services table at the 24 set in Chatsworth the next day. Likewise, I kind of assumed that Glenn Close and Bryan Cranston would take home statuettes but I'll admit that I was pulling for Mad Men's Elisabeth Moss and Jon Hamm to take home those prizes respectively instead, especially for Mad Men's incredible second season. (I was thrilled for Kater Gordon and Matt Weiner to win for writing the awe-inspiring "Meditations in an Emergency" episode of Mad Men.)

But I'm extremely pleased by 30 Rock and Mad Men's continued win this year for Outstanding Comedy Series and Outstanding Drama Series respectively. If Big Love couldn't have won for the truly outstanding third season they had, then I'm exceptionally happy that Mad Men took home the prize. In an era of reality television dominating the airwaves, it's comforting to see so many fantastic drama series making their marks and I think we're truly blessed to have complex series like Mad Men, Big Love, Lost, and Damages on the air today.

What did you think of the awards? How did Neil Patrick Harris do? Were you happy with the winners? And, if not, who would you have awarded the top prizes to? Discuss.

Magic in a Pint Bottle: An Advance Review of PBS' "Little Dorrit"

"I am the only child of parents who weighed, measured, and priced everything; for whom what could not be weighed, measured, and priced, had no existence." - Charles Dickens, "Little Dorrit"

Charles Dickens often wrote about money and his novels gave equal weight to the lives of the poor and downtrodden as they did the idle rich. But none of his novels pushed financial matters to the fore as much as his 1857 novel "Little Dorrit" did.

Ostensibly the story of the debt-ridden Dorrit family, the plot centers on young Amy Dorrit, a young woman born in the Marshallsea Prison to a father who has fallen on hard times and spent more than twenty years in the debtor's prison that serves as Little Dorrit's home. "Little Dorrit" is a story of greed, betrayal, and malice... that resonates all the more today, given our current economic crisis. Hell, there's even a fantastically prescient parallel to our own time period's Bernie Madoff in Mr. Merdle, who engages in his own Ponzi scheme to defraud and ruin many of the novel's characters. (Could this story be any more relevant to our own times? I think not.)

The sensational Little Dorrit, adapted by screenwriter Andrew Davies (Bleak House) aired on BBC One as a fourteen-part mini-series last year and will premiere this weekend here in the States on PBS' Masterpiece Classic as a sumptuously adapted five-part mini-series. The cast features a virtual Who's Who of British film and television actors today, with the teeming cast of characters filled out more than admirably by Being Human's Claire Foy, Spooks' Matthew Macfadyen, Doctor Who's Freema Agyeman, Being Human's Russell Tovey, Law & Order: UK's Bill Paterson, Lord of the Rings' Andy Serkis, The Golden Compass' Tom Courtenay, Benidorm's Janine Duvitski, The Vicar of Dibley's James Fleet, Gavin & Stacey's Ruth Jones, Torchwood's Eve Myles, The Office's Mackenzie Crook, Waking the Dead's Sue Johnston, Einstein and Eddington's Anton Lesser, New Tricks' Alun Armstrong, Hotel Babylon's Emma Pierson, and New Tricks' Amanda Redman. (Whew.) All of whom turn out exceptional performances that are likely to remain with you for quite some time, especially Claire Foy and Matthew Macfadyen.

Written with rapier wit and dramatic flair by the incomparable Andrew Davies and beautifully directed by Dearbhla Walsh and Adam Smith, Little Dorrit is a dazzling mix of genres that offers something for everyone, whether it be the star-crossed romance between Amy Dorrit (Claire Foy) and Arthur Clennam (Matthew Macfadyen); the bizarre Svengali-like grip Miss Wade (Maxine Peake) enacts over poor Tattycoram (Freema Agyeman); the mystery of the will that Mrs. Clennam (Judy Parfitt) seeks to conceal; the vendettas that Amy's silly sister Fanny (Emma Pierson) engages in against Mrs. Merdle (Amanda Redman), the mother of one of her suitors, Edmund Sparkler (Sebastian Armesto); and the engimatic presence of the French murderer Rigaud (Andy Serkis). That all of these seemingly diverse storylines actually come together in the end is the work of two very gifted writers: Dickens himself for constructing the plot and Davies for successfully adapting a very tricky novel with a revolving door of characters and numerous plot threads to weave together.

Holding it all together is Foy's beautifully understated performance as the oft-put-upon Amy Dorrit; she effortlessly pulls off being self-sacrificing, idealistic, and adorably charming, no mean feat at that. The expressive quality of her eyes gives Amy a lived-in sadness that is wholly at contrast to her young age. With a simple look or tilt of her head, Foy manages to imbue Amy with both a childlike belief in the goodness of others and a mature outlook on the world, from a life lived in the squalor of a debtor's prison. Yet Amy seeks to comfort those around her, including her bombastic father (Tom Courtenay), who still believes himself to be a gentleman and relishes in his role as a minor celebrity as the Father of the Marshallsea, her silly dancer sister Fanny (Pierson), and her arrogant brother Tip (Arthur Darvill). (Foy is a find and I have no doubt that she'll go on to great things; here in Little Dorrit, you can literally see the beginnings of a fine actor.)

Despite being eight hours in length, Little Dorrit speeds by with an almost reckless speed, juggling dozens of characters, locations, and situations, but it's also a thoughful and pensive piece as well. It's a gripping and timeless tale of big business and bigger egos, where greed can consume not only a man's soul but that of those around him, corrupted by the need for the excesses of wealth. It is also a savage indictment of fat cat bankers and the Treasury Department, here embodied by the maddening circular logic of the Circumlocution Office: where requests are made, papers and forms filed, and no information ever leaves the site. (My only complaint about Little Dorrit is the slightly confusing ending, which alters Dickens' serpentine original reveal ever-so slightly but still manages to be unclear itself, somewhat like the Circumlocution Office.)

For those viewers who fell in love with BBC One's last bravura adaptation of Charles Dickens, Bleak House, Little Dorrit will be a rare treat: an adaptation that deals with larger themes and issues affecting all of us but also a more intimate riches-to-rags-to-riches-to-rags story about a family caught in the hands of financial woe. It's a story that is at its heart about possessions--money, a pocket watch, a lost button, some fine cigars--and how, at the end of the day, like Amy Dorrit herself, we might only be left with our grace and goodwill when all else fails.

Little Dorrit launches this Sunday evening at 9 pm on PBS' Masterpiece Classic. Check your local listings for details.