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.

The Dance: The Pursuit of Happiness on Big Love

"I'm trying to win a place at the table." - Bill

Many mourned the loss of the original opening credits of Big Love. Set to The Beach Boys' "God Only Knows," it offered a look at the celestial family created by the Henricksons, a glimpse into the eternity offered to their family. But of late, the new credits, which hauntingly depict the various members of the Henrickson family in a state of freefall, seem all the more appropriate, as the clan continues to come apart at the seams. And as each of them searches for their own definition of "home."

This week's evocative and powerful episode of Big Love ("A Seat at the Table"), written by Julia Cho and directed by Adam Davidson, found each of the wives grappling with their own inner compass in the wake of their public outing. Revealed to be "lying polygamists," each of the three wives attempts to find a new path for themselves. For Margene, it's the effort to prevent any further change after the decks have been swept clear; for Barb, it's to question the foundations of her faith and her life; for Nicki, it is a fixation on her teenage daughter, Cara Lynn, an attempt to prevent the sins of her past infecting her daughter's future.

But surrounding this week's installment was also a thematic exploration of the role of motherhood and wives in the polygamist family arrangement. Throughout the episode, we see how each of the mothers--from our three main sister-wives to Adaleen, Nancy, and Lois--deal with their subservience to their husbands. Despite the fact that each of these women are strong and independent, each follows their respective husband's lead, believing his instructions to be the path of guidance they must follow.

But Barb has begun to question this tenet of their faith, questioning the foundations of their underlying belief system, to wonder whether women don't also have the right to hold the priesthood, to offer their own blessings, to set their own path in life.

What follows is a remarkable exploration of faith, family, and spiritual fidelity, something that Big Love has excelled at since the very beginning of this series. As we move deeper into the final season, it's only natural that these questions should loom even larger in the characters' minds and, one hopes, that they spark similar questions in the viewers. What is satisfaction? What price does happiness have? Or sacrifice? Who should decide the paths we take in life? And who ultimately is responsible for the choices we make? Should we all try to live in the light?

I offered a spoiler-light review of the first three episodes of Season Five of Big Love over at The Daily Beast, but now that this week's episode has aired, we can begin to discuss the specifics. (And, no worries about spoilers here: while I've seen the first three episodes, the discussion below is strictly based on the second episode only.)

The abuses of the compounds' doctrines often fall hardest upon the women of polygamy. In looking to reform the compounds, to bring their religion into the light, Bill looks to drag it out of the darkness of abuse. By opening it up to scrutiny, he believes that he can earn the followers of the Principle a seat at the table, and can offer them the same protections and privileges of any American citizen.

Safety, justice, education: these are things that many of us take for granted in the 21st century ivory tower of the States, but these are things denied to many of the compounds' followers. Nicki should know: she claims that there is no high school education at Juniper Creek, and no education of any kind for girls. Even as she strives to give Cara Lynn the best possible education, the best possible start at life's possibilities, she stands up to Alby at Bill's Safety Net meeting, and to the patriarchy at large.

Nicki's claims, that women are treated as chattel and forced to breed until "their uteruses fall out," greatly anger many at the meeting (especially Robert Patrick's Bud Mayberry), but her accusations, louder and angrier than her sister-wife's, are part of an echo of Barb's own line of questioning. Where are the equal rights for the polygamist wives? Why did Nancy fight so hard for the ERA back in the day? Why are these women being systematically abused and denied equal opportunities?

Barb doesn't believe that she is doing anything wrong in questioning her faith. In fact, she believes that the scripture points towards her new-found understanding: that women can hold the priesthood, they can lead their families, they can--as she attempts to do to Margene--make blessings. But her views are radical and go against the status quo. They're perhaps more dangerous than Bill realizes, even as he looks to straighten up the compounds and reform them altogether.

But each of the wives is struggling in their own way. As Barb opens herself up to new experiences, to wine and dance classes and Sunstone, she's looking for something to hold onto, something to live for amid wide-sweeping change in her life. She's looking to experience things outside her worldview, to challenge herself and her faith. Bill believes her to be careening, but Nicki believes that Barb has set in motion a deliberate plan.

In offering Margene a blessing, Barb nearly breaks a holy sacrament. But it's clear that Margene is aching for something as much as Barb, and Barb attempts to help the both of them, to connect them to Heavenly Father and to something larger, and more powerful, than themselves. If Nicki hadn't have intervened, I believe that Barb would have gone through with the anointment. But while Nicki sees her actions as blasphemous (something that Nancy echoes later), Barb clearly is looking to create equality in her religion, to offer feminine empowerment to the connection to their deity.

Barb has always chafed against the constraints of her plural marriage throughout the series' run, testing the boundaries of her marital contract and at times fleeing the confines of their shared homes. It's only natural that she would begin to question the fundamentals, to open her eyes to another way of living, one that's not based in abstaining from experiences but embracing it.

Margene, on the other hand, is certainly careening. Her mother is dead, her business gone, Ana and Goran are being sent packing. She feels as though she too has lost her way in life. Returning to the trailer park where she lived with Ginger, Margene finds the grounds deserted, the only reminder that people had once lived there the disused power outlets amid the swirling dust. She's clinging to her lost past, to the music she enjoyed as a child, holding onto Anna with such fierceness that she inadvertently knocks the pregnant woman to the ground in her frustration with Bill.

Goji Blast might offer her a home-business, but it's not a long-term solution for the problems facing Margene. She doesn't want to expand their family, she doesn't want to carry a fourth child. She's a high school dropout who has woken up to wonder just what happened to her life. And while she loves her family, she can't help but cry to Cara Lynn, to offer herself up as a cautionary tale, to shock the teenager into following her own dreams.

Margene did get out of that trailer park, but her life didn't turn out the way she imagined. But that's, at its heart, the nature of life in general. Fortunately, the final scene points towards some possibility of happiness, as Margene finally does smile, seeing Bill bathe little Nell, a moment of domesticity amid the sadness.

And then there's Nicki, so clearly projecting (as Margene tells her) her own experiences onto Cara Lynn, reeling from the realization that Cara Lynn and Gary Embry are heading towards a romantic relationship. (That kiss on the stage after Mathletes was a dead giveaway.) Forcibly sealed to a much older spouse, Nicki doesn't see what happened as "rape," but she clearly doesn't want her daughter to be trapped in the way that she was. Nicki rails against everyone around the girl: Barb for giving her a copy of "Our Bodies, Ourselves," Margene for terrorizing her with tales of her unhappiness, her math teacher Mr. Ivey (Christian Campbell) when he won't offer Cara Lynn individualized tutoring sessions.

Nicki's behavior towards Barb, however, are beyond the pale. Criticizing her first for her gift of "Jane Eyre" to Cara Lynn, she lashes out at Barb at Home Plus upon learning that the second book was also her gift. She uses the opportunity to remind Barb of her failures: of Teenie's dirty magazine habit and of Sarah's pregnancy. Her words are cruel and caustic, verbal blows upon Barb's character, brutal reminders of how her daughter "defiled her body." It's shocking and awful.

Nicki attempts to reconcile with Barb at the end of the episode, arriving at Barb's dance class in an effort to make amends in a beautiful and subtle scene. But it's Barb who realizes just how closed off Nicki's world has been, how her experiences on the compound have shaped her. A simple question about what they do in the class reveals that Nicolette Grant has never once danced in her life. And the grace that Barb shows her sister-wife, taking her by the hand and leading her around the dance floor, points towards perhaps some future solidarity between the two. Or, at the very least, some understanding of the different paths they've taken.

If only that were true of everyone in this episode. Nicki's sheltered existence, her deprivation from the quotidian joys of life, aren't just her own. Her outrage at the Safety Net meeting is greeted with shouts of acknowledgment by some of the women in attendance. And her own mother is herself trapped in a web of male domination, first by her marriage to Roman Grant and now by the outcome from her marriage to the treacherous JJ. She carries a demon-spawn in her stomach but cannot bring herself to be free of it.

Lois claims to be tormented by Frank, as Bill sees first-hand the conditions she's living under at Juniper Creek, a tree crashed through her broken window, her kitchen ruined by a fire, efforts by Frank to drive her crazy, to reveal where she has hidden her money. Her appearance at the Henrickson homes is a surprise to Barb, as Lois staggers in, "Have I got news for you," spilling from her lips.

The Major, at dinner, compares Nicki to Victoria Gotti, "the mobster's daughter," telling her that Gotti at least admitted that her father was a murderer. But for all of the Major's harsh talk, it's her daughter Midge who presents the clearest threat to the family, as she looks to introduce a bill that would redefine polygamy as an impeachable offense and re-criminalize it as a second degree felony.

It could be the start of a witch hunt, an effort to put polygamists behind bars, to push them further into the darkness. Or, if Bill is able to bring together the divergent polygamist community, to provoke them into unity, into solidarity, and to bring their beliefs finally into the light of day, something that Albert Grant is firmly against. ("The Principle can't survive in the glaring light," he says. "It needs protection.")

But there's a clear difference between protection and living in the shadows. Nicki says that she believes that children need to be protected from the world, but perhaps there's something to be said for not closing yourself off from the world, from putting yourself out there for the world to see. Bill opened his house up to his constituents last week, but it's going to take more than that to achieve acceptance. He'll have to open up his lifestyle and his religion to the world, to say that there is no shame in his homes, no fundamental difference between the love that he shares and those of any other family.

Just as a dance begins with two people stepping together, so too does social change. In an era of Prop 8 and hate crimes, of terrorism and war, the message that the show embraces is one of love and acceptance. And I think that's a lesson, I believe, that we can all take to heart.

Next week on Big Love ("Certain Poor Shepherds"), the Henricksons try to put on a unified face during Christmas, but are tested amidst numbing revelations from Barb, Marge and Adaleen; Lura takes drastic measures in response to Albyʼs zealous efforts to “purify” the compound; Lois drifts towards the deep end; Bill tries to soften up a
senator; Ben bonds with Heather; and Cara Lynn looks for answers about her father.

Don't Forget: New Fringe Tonight on Fox!

Attention, Fringe faithful!

Beginning tonight, FOX's Fringe makes the move to its new home on Friday evenings at 9 pm ET/PT. Given this move and the, uh, traditions of this timeslot, it's safe to say that FOX will be paying particular attention to the ratings and how much of Fringe's audience followed the shift in scheduling and stuck with the show.

To this end, please tune in.

And please remind everyone you know who loves the show to do the same. DVR numbers will definitely play a role here, just as they did on Thursday evenings, but it's essential that you watch this week's episode ("The Firefly") as soon as you possibly can. (Live ratings, after all, are still hugely important.)

In the meantime, you can read my spoiler-light advance review of Fringe's "The Firefly" here. It's truly a fantastic and emotional episode and sets up the back end of the season.

Fringe airs tonight at 9 pm ET/PT on FOX.

The Globe-Spanning Adventures of a Round-Headed Man: An Advance Review of An Idiot Abroad

I have a soft spot for travel shows that offer a twist on the now ubiquitous genre, such as the snarkiness of Travel Channel's Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations.

But it's rare that any of these actually make me howl with laughter. Which is very much the case with Science Channel's new travelogue An Idiot Abroad, which launches on Saturday evening here in the States after a successful run on Sky1 in the UK. This is one show that manages to successfully fuse together pretty pictures of exotic locales, staggeringly hilarious humor, and a round-headed chap with a host of xenophobic issues.

Yes, it stars Karl Pilkington.

If you're unfamiliar with the premise, An Idiot Abroad recounts the globe-spanning journeys of The Ricky Gervais Show breakout Karl Pilkington, here sent around the world to the locations containing the Seven Wonders of the World by close friends Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, who executive produce this series and apear on-screen (and on the phone) throughout as they check in with Karl to see what he's gotten up to.

The results are unpredictable and excruciatingly funny, which I would expect from anything involving Gervais and Merchant.

The first episode ("China") finds Karl on a trek to see the Great Wall of China, but his friends have arranged a few surprises for him along the way, including a fiery massage (yes, seriously), kung fu training with a Shaolin devotee, a picturesque lunch of frog in a small village, and a visit to a local market. Along the way, Karl's eyes are opened up (sometimes saucer-wide) to experiences vastly different to his own as he makes his way through the sights and sounds of Chinese daily life, encountering toilet stalls with no doors (this shakes him to his core) and unusual delicacies.

In true Karl Pilkington fashion, his facial and spoken reactions are priceless, his Little Englander mentality coming to the fore the minute he arrives in China, unable to get a reaction from anyone by smiling at them. It's impossible not to love the big buffoon, though, especially as he cracks me up every time he opens his mouth; there's an aura of child-like amusement and discovery with every step he takes. Though I would advise the producers to be sure to keep any sharp objects out of Karl's hands in the future...

Ultimately, this is a novel and hysterical travel show with what might just be one of the most unusual and unexpected hosts ever, one that would rather be at home with his girlfriend and his diary rather than seeing the world at large. Which makes An Idiot Abroad, which Gervais called "the most expensive practical joke ever," absolutely intoxicating and engaging, as Karl is forced to explore some of the most wonderous sights this planet has to offer. Unless you want to be left behind, do not miss this show.

An Idiot Abroad premieres Saturday night at 7 pm ET/PT on Science Channel.

The Daily Beast: "Skins Is Not Kiddie Porn!"

There's been a lot of furor in the last few days about MTV's adaptation of British teen drama Skins, particularly whether the show crosses the line into "child pornography."

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, entitled "Skins Is Not Kiddie Porn!" As you might expect from the title, I examine, whether or not, despite the hype, MTV’s Skins breaks child-pornography laws. While I'm of the firm mind that it does not legally do so, I say that the show, a pale imitation of the original, still has plenty to be ashamed of.

The conversation reminds me that just because you might disagree with something, or find it to be immoral, doesn't mean that it is in fact illegal. And that the parties who are throwing around the term "child porn" might actually have better things to do with their time: such as actually focusing on preventing and prosecuting distributors, producers, and suppliers of actual child pornography, rather than point the finger of accusation at this bargain-basement adaptation. While this is smutty (what isn't on MTV), the assertion that the network didn't have all of these legally vetted ahead of time is absolutely absurd.

But that's just my two cents, really. What do you make of the nontroversy?

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.

The Firefly: An Advance Review of This Week's Episode of Fringe

Many viewers and critics--myself included--had a lot to say when FOX announced that it was moving its fantastic sci-fi drama Fringe to Fridays.

After all, the series had hit new creative highs both last season and in the current third season, amid a storyline involving human nature, doppelgangers, alternate universes, and the consequences of a father's love. The series had successfully transformed itself from a science fiction-laden monster-of-the-week procedural into something more enduring and heartfelt, a drama that at its center was about a collection of very damaged individuals who had carved out something resembling a family even when facing down some fiendish plot to destroy the universe or science run amok on a weekly basis.

At TCA's winter press tour last week, FOX entertainment president Kevin Reilly publicly declared his support for Fringe, amid increasing worry that the series was being put out to pasture on Friday evenings. Those concerned about the move should at least take comfort in this fact: When Fringe moves to Fridays this week, it does so with its core mission and its brilliance very much intact.

I had the chance to see this week's wondrous new episode of Fringe ("The Firefly"), written by Jeff Pinkner and J. H. Wyman, which managed to be brilliant and heartbreaking in equal measure.

Fringe soars when it explores not only the mysteries of science but also the mysteries of the soul. Here, it does so with expert precision, examining the consequences of our actions, both seen and unseen. The road to hell, as they say, is paved with good intentions. When Walter Bishop (John Noble) cut through the curtain between dimensions in order to save the life of another world's Peter Bishop after losing his own son, he set in motion a chain of events that damned two universes in the process. A father's grief, his love, his devotion destroyed countless lives in the process. But what are two worlds when weighed against a child's life?

(Note: Very minor spoilers follow. As always, please do not post this review in full on any message boards, websites, or fan sites without written permission.)

Chaos theory at its most elementary posits that every action has an outward ripple effect. In essence, a butterfly beating its wings can cause a hurricane on the other side of the world. Imagine then what the consequences would be if one were to actually punch a hole through dimensions, to replace a dead child for a living one, to throw the natural order out of balance altogether. We've seen the result of Walter's actions Over There, the widespread destruction, the amber, the shocking devastation.

But Peter being alive Over Here must also have consequences then as well. Something as simple as a firefly, a little phosphorescent insect caught in the hand of a child, can itself have a ripple effect, setting in motion a chain of events that's breathtaking in its brutality. The firefly then becomes emblematic of the unseen, its light at odds with the veil of ignorance surrounding Walter Bishop. In saving this boy's life, he has altered the outcomes of several futures because Peter wasn't supposed to live. In stealing this child from his world, Walter's actions are both noble and foolhardy, the short-term benefits paling in comparison to the long-term damage.

But Walter hasn't seen just what consequences his good intentions have wrought. Until now.

I don't want to give too much away about this extraordinary episode, but I will say that "The Firefly" dramatizes the results of Walter's great experiment, showing the audience the web of consequence stemming from that fateful night. But the chain of events that he unleashed upon the world tautly circle back onto him. There's always a price to pay in any Faustian arrangement, and Walter sees here first-hand just how high that tariff is.

The great Christopher Lloyd guest stars in the episode as Roscoe Joyce, the keyboardist of Walter's favorite band, Violet Sedan Chair (previously mentioned on-air), now a lonely old soul living in a nursing facility, his memory at odds with his intelligence. If that reminds you of someone else, you're on the right track. These two strangers are intrinsically bound together by threads of fate. Thrown together, each has a part to play in the other's life, as that chain of events constricts ever tighter. There's a simpatico spirit to these two brilliant men, their minds both shattered, their lives eerily similar in a way. Both have endured great losses, and in coming together, each offers the other a way to make amends.

Lloyd's performance as Roscoe is staggering here and, in a more just world, he would nab an Emmy nomination for his depiction of the haunted keyboardist who reawakens to the possibilities of the world when he crosses paths with Walter Bishop. (Noble, as I've argued for years now, is supremely deserving of a nomination, yet is continually and criminally overlooked by the Academy voters.)

It's worth noting that "The Firefly" features a procedural element, as always, but the case that the Fringe Division faces ties into the overarching narrative this season and features The Observer. But just what is The Observer doing and what exactly is he trying to course-correct here? Interesting....

Likewise, the episode also continues the gut-wrenching plotline involving Olivia (Anna Torv) and Peter (Joshua Jackson) as they grapple with the fallout from the realization that Peter was romantically involved with Olivia's alternate dimension look-alike. Comparing herself to Rip Van Winkle, Olivia feels like a sleepwalker in her own life, waking up to discover that the world has moved on without her.

A package received in the mail--a copy of "If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him!"--becomes symbolic of what she's lost and what she's missed out on. But, if this episode proves anything, it's that you don't often get second chances at life. Sometimes, you have to seize the moment, put aside the baggage, and start over. And sometimes, that's not possible at all outside of our dreams.

(Quick aside: Twin Peaks fans, look for a throwaway shout-out to David Lynch and Mark Frost's seminal series within the episode--both a visual and dialogue cue, in fact--that seems to establish that Fringe and Twin Peaks are, in fact, taking place within a shared narrative universe. A both terrifying and tantalizing proposition, really.)

Ultimately, "The Firefly" asks thought-provoking questions about culpability. Can we be held accountable for the unseen consequences of our actions? Is guilt for such fallout misplaced or deserved? When faced with making the same decision again, do we alter our course? Can any of us truly change? And what will we do when faced with the possibility of sacrifice? The dominoes are beginning to fall into place for Olivia and the Bishops, and this viewer is waiting with baited breath to see which way the pieces fall.

Fringe moves to its new timeslot this Friday evening at 9 pm ET/PT on FOX.

Go Big or Go Home: An Advance Review of Season Three of Parks and Recreation

Last season, NBC's Parks and Recreation exploded into a bona fide comedy hit, a critical darling that had transformed itself from being in the shadow of The Office to outperforming it in terms of heart, humor, and brains on a weekly basis.

It took the series, created by Greg Daniels and Mike Schur, a few episodes in the first season to find its footing but it came right out of the gate at the beginning of its sophomore season, with its tone, sense of humor, and characters just right.

Over the course of the twenty-odd installments of Season Two, Parks and Recreation quickly established itself as the go-to workplace comedy, the sort of mockumentary show that had expanded upon its initial premise to become a series that combined the awkwardness of romantic life in Pawnee with the eccentricities of the Parks Department workers and the cockeyed optimism of Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler), whose can-do spirit were often at odds with, well, reality.

Despite the critical success of the series in its second year, NBC opted not to return the show to the schedule in the fall, despite shooting six episodes immediately after wrapping last season in order to accommodate Poehler's pregnancy. Fans and critics wondered aloud just when NBC would bring back Parks and Recreation, why this winning show had been put on the shelf for this long, and why only 16 episodes had been ordered for this season.

The long wait is, at least, finally over: Parks and Recreation's third season launches on Thursday evening and, based upon the seven (yes, seven!) episodes I've seen so far, the grueling delay has been worth it. When we last saw the Parks Department bureaucrats last May, the Pawnee government had been shut down amid massive budget mismanagement, thanks to the arrival of "black hats" Ben (Adam Scott) and Chris (Rob Lowe).

With Leslie and the others cast out into the cold, things seemed particularly bleak for the future of the Parks Department. When we rejoin them at the start of the first episode ("Go Big or Go Home"), the news reaches each of them in turn that the government has been reopened and they can return to their jobs. It's a canny beginning that that plays to both the narrative decision as well as to the audience's own anticipation at the return of Parks and Rec, as the characters happily discover, as Leslie gleefully says, "We're back!"

And they are back in fine form. These first seven episodes comprise a mini-arc for the season that's keyed to the launch and execution of Leslie's Parks Department-saving scheme, the Harvest Festival. With the budget and future of the department on the line, Leslie comes up with a plot that will either save the department's budget or destroy it altogether. With the season consisting of 16 episodes, this arc provides a strong throughline for the first half of the season, enabling Leslie and the others to embark on a mission that forces each of them to work towards a common goal. (The "go big or go home" mentality that Leslie espouses would seem to apply towards the series' writers as well.)

Which isn't to say that this is the only storyline unfolding in these episodes, because it isn't. In the hands of showrunners Daniels and Schur--and the uber-talented staff of writers assembled underneath them--Season Three of Parks and Rec has a host of compelling sub-plots, both romantic and professional, as well as episodic plots that build towards the overarching storyline.

And I want to commend both Scott and Lowe for their delightful performances here as Ben and Chris, respectively. Both fit quite nicely into the world of Pawnee, and their outsider status gives them free reign to enter into conflict with Leslie and the others. Their good cop/bad cop shtick never feels tired and Ben's grumpiness and irritability are slowly erased as we learn more about his backstory as the 18-year-old mayor of a Minnesota town and see just how ill-at-ease he is in the public eye. (He gets a chance to shine in the fifth episode, "Media Blitz." Two words: Ice Town.)

The romance arc between Lowe's Chris and Rashida Jones' Ann began last season in earnest and we see that storyline develop over the course of the first six episodes before coming to a head in "Indianapolis" in a very unexpected twist. Along the way, we're treated to a side of Ann that we haven't seen before: one that's uncomfortable, awkward, and doesn't have the upper-hand in the relationship for a chance. Paired with the indefatigable Chris, Ann is forever struggling to keep up with the seemingly perfect Chris, a nice about-face from her relationship with the far-from-perfect Andy (Chris Pratt) in Season One or the seeming equality between her and Mark (Paul Schneider) last season.

Additionally, there's a fantastic chemistry between Ben and Leslie as well, one that doesn't blossom into a physical relationship within these episodes. The two are clearly set up as romantic leads within the context of this season but the writers are playing things close to the vest with these two, not pushing them together immediately, but making it clear that Ben and Leslie are made for one another. Ben's nerdiness (look for near-constant Star Wars references) and dour expression and Leslie's eternal verve might not scream "match made in heaven," but these two are clearly being positioned as the next romantic coupling on the series.

Romance is definitely in the air in Pawnee. Look for the complicated relationship between Andy and April (Aubrey Plaza) to get even more complicated following her return from Venezuela with a new boyfriend in tow and for April's vendetta against Ann to get even more overt. (The second episode, "The Flu," has several fantastic scenes between Plaza and Jones in the hospital, where April is recuperating from the flu. Thrown bedclothes, accusations of attempted murder, and rude behavior seem to be de rigeur.)

Meanwhile, the return of Tammy (Megan Mullally) poses a number of problems for Ron Swanson (the fantastic Nick Offerman) in the hysterical "Ron and Tammy II," which sees the warring divorced couples hit some mightily impressive new lows as their demon courtship/war continues apace. Providing a painfully funny bookend with last season's "Ron and Tammy," this installment sees Ron Swanson go completely off the rails bonkers and demonstrates the awesome power evil ex-wife Tammy Swanson has over him. Plus, seeing real-life married couple Mullally and Offerman sparring (and, um, other things) adds a nice sheen of uncomfortableness to the brutal comedy unfolding here.

Elsewhere, we're given further glimpses of the hidden talents of Jerry (Jim O'Heir); Tom (Aziz Ansari) attempts to finally get his cologne, Tommy Fresh, off the ground when he engineers a chance encounter with fragrance guru Dennis Feinstein; Ron unveils his "Swanson Pyramid of Greatness" when he and Andy are drafted to coach youth basketball; the feud between Leslie and Pawnee Today host Joan Callamezzo (Mo Collins) continues; a Twilight-obsessed man (guest star Will Forte) chains himself to a pipe in Leslie's office as an act of protest (in "Time Capsule"); and the Harvest Festival seems like it might happen, if the gang can pull off a major coup, but there's a certain curse that might derail the festival altogether. All this, plus Li'l Sebastian! (You'll see just who that is--and the awesome corn maze!--in Episode Seven, "Harvest Festival.")

One of the joys of the third season is seeing just how seriously the writers have constructed the world of Pawnee and rendered it in a three dimensional fashion. In-jokes crop up all the time, as do callbacks to earlier seasons, familiar faces--such recurring characters as Joan, Wendy Haverford (Jama Williamson), Tammy Swanson (Mullally), Shauna Malwae-Tweep (Alison Becker)--continue to reprise their roles, and the same disgruntled townspeople show up to the open forums, all of which goes a long way to establishing Pawnee as a living, breathing entity in its own right.

Ultimately, these first seven episodes are outstanding, once again positioning Parks and Recreation as one of the most deft and sly comedies on television today, offering a winning mix of romance, humor, and the comedy of the awkward that this series does so well. With only 16 installments this season, I'd say to best enjoy the magic of Parks and Rec you might need to save these episodes on your DVR and watch them repeatedly in order to catch each little nuance and every little second of comedy that permeate these insanely brilliant gems.

As for me, I'm going to try to keep Pawnee alive as long as possible. If I were constructing my own time capsule (as the people of Pawnee do in the third episode), these first seven episodes prove that Parks and Recreation has more than earned its spot in there.

Season Three of Parks and Recreation launches Thursday evening at 9:30 pm ET/PT on NBC.

Paley Festival Announces Full Line-Up: Community, Parks and Recreation, True Blood, White Collar, The Walking Dead, and Much More!

The moment many have been waiting for is finally here.

The Paley Center for Media has this morning unveiled its full lineup for the 2011 Paley Festival, taking place March 4-17 at the Saban Theatre in Beverly Hills, CA. (The annual festival moved to its new digs last year.)

Among the offerings for the 2011 festival, which is always standing room only: Community, Parks and Recreation, True Blood, White Collar, The Walking Dead, American Idol, Supernatural, Eastbound and Down, Raising Hope, a Freaks & Geeks/Undeclared Reunion, an evening with Jimmy Fallon, and more.

Tickets will go on sale to members on January 21st and to the general public on January 23rd at 9 am PT via Ticketweb.

The complete Paley Festival 2011 lineup, with event dates, can be found below:

March 4th at 7 pm: The Walking Dead
March 5th at 7 pm: True Blood
March 7th at 7 pm: White Collar
March 8th at 7 pm: Hot in Cleveland
March 9th at 7 pm: Parks and Recreation
March 10th at 7 pm: Eastbound and Down
March 11th at 7 pm: An Evening with Jimmy Fallon
March 12th at 7 pm: Freaks and Geeks/Undecared Reunion
March 13th at 3 pm: Supernatural
March 14th at 7 pm: American Idol
March 15th at 7 pm: Community
March 17th at 7 pm: Raising Hope

Now that the full schedule has been announced, I'm curious to know: which of the above panels are you the most excited to see? What are you dying to get tickets for? And are you planning on coming out to Los Angeles for the event? Talk back here.

The Daily Beast: "Amy Poehler Curator: My Favorite Sad Films"

Attention: Parks and Recreation fans!

Over at The Daily Beast, Amy Poehler picks her 11 favorite sad film scenes in a hysterical piece written by Amy, entitled "Amy Poehler Picks Her Favorite Sad Films" (the latest in our Curator series), that I wrangled into existence.

Among the offerings: 11 of Poehler's favorite sad movie scenes, from You Can Count on Me and Pretty in Pink to--wait for it--Dumb and Dumber. (Yes, you read that correctly.) In true Amy Poehler fashion, our latest curator discusses her topic of choice with flair, wit, and, above all else, humor. So grab a tissue and prepare to laugh until you cry.

Season Three of Parks and Recreation launches Thursday evening at 9:30 pm ET/PT on NBC.

The Magnificent Seven: An Advance Review of the Next Two Episodes of USA's White Collar

The wait is over: Neal Caffrey (Matthew Bomer) and Peter Burke (Tim DeKay) are back.

USA's smart and slick series White Collar returns tonight for the back half of its sophomore season, following a cliffhanger that threatened the life of Neal's shadowy associate Mozzie (the always fantastic Willie Garson), even as the dynamic duo got closer to unmasking the conspiracy surrounding that omnipresent music box.

When the series returns with the next two episodes ("Burke's Seven" and "Forging Bonds"), provided to press for review, there's a spirit of both righteous vengeance and calculated craftiness employed by Caffrey and Burke on behalf of poor Mozzie, gunned down by an unknown assailant, and some forward momentum on the music box storyline and just who is pulling the strings of the story's characters.

I don't want to give too much away, but I will say that what follows are two fantastic installments, each with their own distinct point of view. "Burke's Seven" finds Peter grappling with suspension as he puts together his own team (hence the title) to track down Mozzie's shooter and make sure that justice is paid. Unfortunately, said shooter (Paul Blackthorne, in fine form here) seems to be one step ahead of Burke and Co. Can Peter manage to pull together the team's diverse talents for a singular goal? And just who are the seven members of this rogue strike force? The answer is both in keeping with White Collar's history and its sometimes irreverent tone.

In next week's "Forging Bonds," it's a chance to take a trip down memory lane, complete with funny wigs and facial hair, as Neal remembers the first time he met both Kate (the improbably irksome Alexandra Daddario) and Mozzie, while the audience learns about the first time that Neal and Peter crossed paths. Sucker, anyone?

While most series typically fail at successfully employing this type of narrative device, "Forging Bonds" gleefully pulls off the flashback episode in fantastic style (as though you'd expect anything less from this charming series), rendering the backstories of Neal, Kate, Alex, Peter, and Elizabeth (Tiffani Thiessen) in three-dimensional glory. Creator Jeff Eastin and the writers have wisely resisted peeling away the curtain to dramatize these events until now but, in the midst of its second season, White Collar has enough momentum and character investment to warrant the use of flashback at this point in time.

And what flashbacks they are.

Bomer gets to play Neal as a wide-eyed optimist, a naive fresh-faced kid with a floppy haircut and a penchant for wearing polos with chinos rather than bespoke suits. Garson's Mozzie is, well, like you've never seen him before, both mentor and comic relief, friend and gateway drug in one. Additionally, we get a little more indication of just why Neal was so hell-bent on finding Kate after his prison sentence (though I still find their attraction extremely unlikely, though that could be because Daddario rubs me the wrong way) and how these two met and ultimately fell in love. Along the way, we're given a glimpse at Neal's working relationship with professional thief Alex and the man who made Neal who he is today.

That man would be Vincent Adler, played to smarmy perfection by Andrew McCarthy. Just what was Neal's relationship with shady businessman Adler? And just who was conning whom? In Adler, we see the seeds of the man that Neal Caffrey would one day become, his seeming generosity paving the way for some of Neal's more flamboyant style. Through Adler, we see the transformation of Neal Caffrey from two-bit crook to gentleman criminal as he gets a taste of wealth and of the possibility afforded by his less than, uh, honest professional aspirations.

These are both two very strong episodes that seamlessly set up the overarching plot for the remainder of the season and allow White Collar's accomplished actors to demonstrate their range and depth. They're also just what this winter needs. Amid a rather staid season, there's a nice heat and flair to these first two episodes back. Throw in a rakish hat, and you've got the makings of a perfect evening.

White Collar returns tonight at 10 pm ET/PT on USA.

Two-Buck Chuck: The Days of Wine and Roses on Chuck

Proposals are funny things.

Pull off an entirely romantic marriage offer and you have a story that you'll be telling your grandchildren in years to come. Fail and it could be, for Sarah's parents, emblematic of everything that went wrong with their relationship.

But whether it's an Italian restaurant, or the balcony of a posh French chateau, what really matters is the moment itself, something that Chuck finally grasps at the end of this week's sweet and funny episode ("Chuck Versus the Balcony"), written by Max Denby and directed by Jay Chandrasekhar. It's more about seizing the moment with the one you love than it is about balloons, string quartets, or carriages.

Unfortunately, Chuck realizes this lesson too late. In true Chuck fashion, the course of true love never did run smooth and Chuck and his lady love, Sarah Walker, find themselves on opposite trajectories. As Chuck prepares to spend his life with Sarah, she's engaged on a dangerous mission, posing as a double agent in order to free Chuck's mom from the dastardly Alexei Volkoff.

For all of Chuck's planning, his "sub-mission" fails to take off due to external circumstances beyond his control... and some internal ones as well. Unable to propose until he encounters the ideal situation, Chuck misses his chance to ask Sarah to marry him, as he's twice interrupted in pursuit of his marital goal.

I'm glad that the writers opted to paint Chuck as extremely nervous about proposing to Sarah. Despite the fact that the two have saved the world (and each other) on numerous occasions, there's still something life-altering and tremendous about making a marriage proposal. Chuck's Intersect-like abilities don't seem to include getting down on one knee among its mind-arsenal of fighting styles. For all of his superheroics, Chuck is still an Everyman and there are few things more terrifying than proposing. (Even I found myself flustered when it came time for it, after being with my future wife for years and years.)

Chuck's nervousness and his belief that the moment needed to be absolutely perfect point towards his good heart and his love for Sarah. Hoping to avoid the awfulness of her parents' proposal (aside: do we know anything about her mother?), Chuck wants to avoid the cliche, over-the-top excess that marred Sarah's father's proposal. (Along with a restaurant carpet fire.) But it true Chuck style, our everyman spy has drafted Morgan into a sub-mission to pull off a most romantic moment with his girlfriend... who herself quickly finds out just what is going on.

The tension of the mission--involving a missing nanochip secreted at a chateau in the Loire Valley--is nicely paralleled by the tension of Chuck's side mission... and it was fantastic to see Sarah not go into a tailspin about the imminent proposal (and the long-term relationship implicit with it) but rather express her excitement, and help out to ensure that the proposal went smoothly. (Nice save with the ring box, S.)

But Sarah is also a covert agent in the employ of the United States government. Her desire for a happy, well-adjusted life are secondary to their orders... and I truly believe that she thinks she is helping Chuck by going undercover at Volkoff Industries in order to free Frost. But Sarah's desire to reunite Chuck with his mom have put their future happiness on hold altogether. Unable to even finish proposing to Sarah in her cell at Castle, Chuck is shocked to learn that she's posing as a double agent in order to do her job and to get Mary back to safety.

History, as they say, has a way of repeating itself. Mary's clandestine mission destroyed her marriage to Stephen, and Sarah's decision to follow in her footsteps don't bode well for her prospects with Chuck. She's chosen professional duty over personal desire, once again. Chuck's bended-knee proposal may go horribly awry, but it's the horror of learning what Sarah has accepted to do that's truly shocking for him.

I don't doubt that these two will eventually make it down the aisle together (season finale, anyone?), but I have to commend the writers for puncturing our expectations here. While it seemed as though the episode was finally building up to an engagement (or at the very least, the proposal), the rug is yanked out from under our feet just as much as it is Chuck's.

All in all, "Chuck Versus the Balcony" managed to pull off a delightly combination of heart and humor, something that the best installments of Chuck have in abundance, and created a nicely parallel storyline for Lester at the Buy More, as he prepared to meet his Saskatchewan bride. Issues of marriage, morality, and mothers all coming together to create a winning episode here that wore its heart on its sleeve.

But I'm curious to know what you thought of the episode: did you think Chuck would pull off a perfect proposal in the end? Think Sarah would accept in the cell? Wondering just why she's putting her life in danger to save Chuck's mom? Head to the comments section to discuss.

Next week on Chuck ("Chuck vs. the Gobbler"), in a bid to free Chuck's mom, Sarah goes undercover on a suicide mission for Volkoff industries; Awesome and Ellie struggle to choose a baby name.

Iron Throne: HBO Unveils New Game of Thrones Teaser Trailer

"My brother has his sword and I have my mind." - Tyrion

HBO has released its newest teaser trailer for its upcoming adaptation of George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones, launching April 17th. (Yes, I'm sure your calendars are marked. Get your lemon cakes ready.)

Unlike the staggering trailer that the pay cabler unveiled last weekend at the Television Critics Association Winter Press Tour--which I'm still hoping they release online soon--this teaser is more atmospheric than anything else, playing up the visual of the Iron Throne as a backdrop for the characters themselves, each of whom gets the chance to whisper a single line of dialogue that sums up their characters' inner struggles.

Provocative and eye-catching, yes, but it doesn't quite have the snap and sparkle of the one that HBO showed at their Game of Thrones session. I do love, however, that they looked to offer a primer on the diverse characters of the show, setting up the central conflicts and the general aura of intrigue and war. And that throne? Terrifying and dangerously uncomfortable, just as the Targaryens intended.

That said, I hope the next trailer is less style and more substance.

But don't take my word for it: you can watch the newest teaser in full below.



Game of Thrones premieres Sunday, April 17th at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.

Winter: Out of the Wilderness on the Season Premiere of Big Love

"I don't even know what the road in front of us is going to look like." - Bill

In terms of the narrative of Big Love, which entered its last season with this week's evocative episode ("Winter"), written by Mark V. Olsen & Will Scheffer and directed by David Petrarca, roughly a week has gone by since the Henricksons publicly outed themselves as polygamists, joining together on stage in a symbolic gesture of unity. Finding them as the fifth season begins, the family has fled Sandy for the isolation of the desert, embarking on a camping trip together both as an act of escape and also one of healing.

But the old slights still sting. The Henrickson family is in recovery mode, the wreckage from their act of courage still smoldering around them. Their trip to the wilderness is a reactive move, a reversal from their bravery in the face of those flashing cameras. The fallout has been severe as we see from this week's installment: Margene loses her job and her severance package; Wayne is mercilessly bullied at school; Barb is tempted to begin drinking; and Bill faces opponents both on the hill and in his stores.

By announcing the true nature of their relationship, Bill and the wives have dragged themselves into the light, yes, but it's a harsh and unyielding spotlight. No surprise that they've packed up the kids and headed into the great open expanse of the desert, the figurative "north to Alaska" of the song that bookends the installment.

I offered a spoiler-light review of the first three episodes of Season Five of Big Love over at The Daily Beast, but now that the season premiere has aired, we can begin to discuss the specifics. (And, no worries about spoilers here: while I've seen the first three episodes, the discussion below is strictly based on the season opener only.)

Creators Olsen and Scheffer had a lot to deal with coming off of the fourth season of Big Love, which was, in their own words, much more "operatic" than previous years. Storylines involving Indian tribal casinos, eugenics schemes, and corrupt Washington lobbyists took a lot of the focus off of the internal struggles of the family; while they were still there, they took a back seat to some of the more overt or histrionic elements.

But here, we're immediately seeing a returned focus to the Henrickson clan, to their familial struggles and to the internal battles that wage within each of them. The narrative, which still splits its time between the Henricksons and the Juniper Creek compound, already seems to indicate a narrowing of the gap between those two spheres, setting up a parallel storyline involving the notion of purity, of reform, of change. Both the Henricksons and Alby retreat to the desert to regain their inner compass, each reeling in their own way from the actions of the fourth season: from deceit, death, and betrayals.

When the family does return to Sandy, it's with a significant amount of unease, despite the cockeyed optimism Bill seems to be embracing. They return to the safety of their home, but there's something off-kilter about their new existence, the looks of suspicion or outright hatred that are offered up by those they encounter. Wayne is bullied and harassed, hate words scrawled across his face and body. Margene is patronized by her former champion, who disguises her contempt by couching it among moral contract clauses. Bill is openly insulted by his employees.

Barb. The once-and-future Boss Lady is tempted to step outside of her narrow experience, to open herself up to new opportunities, to say yes rather than no, to question rather than to blindly accept. Barb's trip to the State Liquor Store is her own journey to the wilderness, her decision to open that bottle of red wine an invalidation of the belief system to which she once adhered.

I don't believe for a second that Barb is making her "mother's coq au vin," nor that her Mormon mother would allow any alcohol in her home; it's a convenient lie to tell Nicki, though not one that Nicki believes for a second. It is clear, however, that Barb is grappling with some life-altering circumstances and with a clear isolation in her marriage from her partners. She's sacrificed, she's compromised, she's tried to hold it together, but she's coming apart at the seams, really.

When she takes that slug of wine, alone in the living room, she's not only breaking a commandment of her religion, but also of her own moral compass. She's exploring herself even as she self-medicates. The look of shame and warmth that pass over Jeanne Tripplehorn's face is--excuse the pun--intoxicating; it's a portrait of a woman pushed beyond her breaking point, of a mother unsure of where she is leading her family, of a wife who sees that her husband might not know best.

Bill. He can't quite bring himself to admit this to his wives. After a series of disastrous encounters--Wayne's abuse at the hands of the scouts, the awful school board meeting, his about-face at the state assembly--Bill is also close to breaking, though he won't admit this to any of his wives. It takes Don, finally standing up to his business partner, finally confronting him about his lack of respect, to allow Bill to unburden himself. But it's interesting that it's Don who is Bill's confessor.

Knowing that the wives are in earshot, he tells Don, "I've gone and torn my family apart, and I am truly sorry." He might be speaking to the long-suffering Don Embry, but his words are intended for his family, who gather behind him, shocked to hear him come clean, after espousing such virtuous aims for their life in the light. It's a moment of brutal honesty, as Bill rips down the armor around him, standing before his friend, making a confession that the patriarchal Bill can only formally make to another man. The truth is that his plan has been ripped to tatters; he has no idea what his next move is nor what the road ahead holds for his clan.

Which is a scary thought, considering what his wives have done in pursuit of the dream he wove for them. That dream, the "yellow house" they could share together, a life they could lead in the light, is completely shattered now. To live openly, to attempt to be together as one united front, is a constant struggle; survival is the operative mode rather than happiness.

Margene. Margene believes that she's lost everything. Her livelihood is gone, her contract null and void, Hearts on a Sleeve trashed beyond saving. Ana and Goran's continued existence in their lives threatened by a reversal of fortune. Margene reluctantly agrees to annul her marriage to Goran; Goran is forced to leave the country in 60 days, lest he be imprisoned. And Ana? Despite the fact that she's carrying Bill's son, she wants to be by Goran's side, even with Bill offering her a secretarial job.

Those cries in the night aren't just for being called a "lying jewelry hawker," but for the losses Margene has endured. Did she comprehend just what she was doing when she stepped onto that stage? Did she realize the grave consequences that would follow her decision? That the tabloids and the news coverage would only intensify? That by acknowledging the truth of her situation she was turning her back on the relative peace that had gotten her to that moment? That in one fell swoop, her life would be irrevocably transformed?

Nicki. Even second wife Nicki seems uncomfortable with the glare of the spotlight, especially after her attempt to enact vengeance upon Wayne's tormentor backfires so magnificently. (The "tomato head" kid runs smack into a metal pole, knocking out one of his teeth.) The twist in that plotline? The kids' family are polygamists as well, the secret that he was so scared of Nicki writing on "his bottom" the very same one that the Henricksons dragged right out into the light.

But Nicki also backtracks somewhat on a comment made last season, in which she said that she didn't want to share Bill with Margene and Barb anymore. Clarifying her remarks, Nicki says that she "wished" she didn't have to share them, but even that's at odds with their polygamist lifestyle. Her censuring of Barb as well invalidates the support her sister-wives have given her over the years, with Barb offering a litany of transgressions, from spying and infidelity to the bill control pill fiasco. (Such callbacks help to remind us that the world of the Henricksons is a living, breathing thing. These things are not simply swept under the rug, but their viral quality continues to infect the family years down the line.)

Among Nicki's choicest quotes this episode: "It's diluted" (in reference to whether she was using turpentine to scrub Wayne) and "She's an alcoholic!" (when confessing that Barb was caught drinking). Oh, Nicki, I've missed your acid tongue.

Adaleen and Alby. Adaleen is still pregnant, still carrying around the monstrosity that JJ implanted within her (the fertilized egg that is his and sister Wanda's incestous offspring). Poor Adaleen has been imprisoned in the root cellar, but she's dragged out by Lura, and told to "scat." She has nowhere to go, no protector, no home. She burned her husband and her sister-wife to a crisp; she is a true pariah, an untouchable. Her lack of purity endemic to Alby of what's wrong with Juniper Creek. (Cough, cough.)

As for her son, he emerges from the desert with a clear understanding of what he must do next, his certainty at odds with Bill's lack of direction. He claims to want to clean up the compounds, to purify everything as he has been purified but Alby's soul is black and infected. He corrupts everything he touches. His return to the big house is no happy homecoming, but the return of a sullen and mercurial prophet to the mix. Even his trusted companion Lura--the brilliant Anne Dudek--seems unnerved by his reappearance.

News that the millions of dollars in the UEB trust have reverted back to their control produce no discernible improvement to his mood. The sight of Bill's troubles, however, lead him to thirst for a righteous vengeance against the Henricksons once more. "He destroyed everything I ever loved," Alby tells Lura, as he breaks her heart in two. He wants payback for Dale's death but he refuses to acknowledge Lura's complicity in his former lover's demise. He's dead inside, it seems. And that, more than anything, makes him even more dangerously unpredictable.

But it's not all doom and gloom within "Winter." The emergence of those polygamists at the end of the episode--after the failure of Bill's open house--signify that there is still hope, that Bill and the wives' sacrifice hasn't been all for naught, that they represent a new face for polygamy, one that isn't lived in the darkness or in fear. As the family welcomes these few refugees in from the cold, Bill sees the first snowfall of the winter, a symbol that life goes on, the seasons change, the snow still falls.

The world hasn't completely spun off of its axis amid their public declaration and as those snowflakes fall once more to the ground, we see the spirit of hope lit once more within Bill Henrickson.

All in all, a fantastic episode that sets the stage for the final showdown to come and the endgame that Olsen and Scheffer have cooked up for the Henricksons. There's a sense of hope that emerges from those final moments, from the first snowfall, and from the sense that perhaps these sacrifices are indeed worth it, that the Henricksons' lives aren't just being lived for themselves but for others afraid to speak the truth of their love. And, quite possibly, with the closing of that door, Bill Henrickson has taken the first steps towards regaining the prophethood stolen from his family all of those years before. Sometimes all it takes is the sight of the first snow...

Next week on Big Love ("A Seat at the Table"), Billʼs attempt to stage a “safety net” meeting for polygamist leaders is hindered by Alby and Home Plus objectors; in an effort to find common ground with her mother, Barb asks Nancy to join her at a symposium focusing on mother-daughter Mormon challenges; Nicki learns the extent of Adaleenʼs isolation; Margene despairs over the quandary involving Ana and Goran; and Cara Lynn impresses her math teacher.

The Daily Beast: "8 Crazy Scenes From The Kennedys"

Ask just about anyone in Hollywood what they had thought of The Kennedys, the History Channel miniseries about the Kennedy clan, and they’ll tell you it was so far off their radars that they didn’t give it a thought.

That changed last week when the History Channel, a division of A&E Television Networks, announced that it had opted to shelve the project—from 24 co-creator Joel Surnow, director Jon Cassar, and writer Steve Kronish—stating that the “dramatic interpretation [was] not a fit for the History brand.”

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read the rest of my latest feature, entitled "8 Crazy Scenes From The Kennedys," in which I pick out eight salacious bits from the script for the first episode of the miniseries, which is currently being shopped to a variety of cable networks. (Showtime, FX, Starz, and a few others are rumored to have already passed.)

The Daily Beast: "Falling in Love with Big Love Again" (REVIEW)

Big Love returns on Sunday and I've already seen the first three episodes. (In fact, I've now seen them multiple times, including the season opener on the big screen last night at HBO's Big Love premiere.)

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "Falling in Love with Big Love Again," in which I examine why HBO's polygamist family drama Big Love is back in fine form for its fifth and final season.

In addition to taking a critical look at the start of the fifth season, I also make some predictions about where the season--and the series as a whole--is ending.

I'm curious to know: are you planning on watching Season Five of Big Love? What was your take on last season? And how do you think creators Mark V. Olsen and Will Scheffer are going to end the series? Head to the comments section to discuss.

Season Five of Big Love premieres on Sunday evening at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.

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.

TCA Diary: FOX Executive Session

"I'd be heartbroken if it went away."

That's FOX President of Entertainment Kevin Reilly talking about sci-fi drama Fringe as the TCA Winter Press Tour rolls on, with FOX's Kevin Reilly and Peter Rice addressing the press.

One topic widely expected to be discussed was the fate of FOX's Fringe, which will move from Thursdays to Fridays later this month.

Among the other topics raised at the low-key (a change for FOX, given the previous years', uh, traditional hubbub) executive session: the future of Lie to Me, House, and Bones, Terra Nova, Lone Star, and more.

So what did the two have to say? Let's take a look.

Fringe: "I beg you not to write the eulogy prematurely," said Reilly. "It's been in a four-way scripted race. I want that audience to transfer to Fridays."

And just like many of us, Reilly seems to really like Fringe: "I'd be heartbroken if it went away."

Reilly said that, with the move to the Friday night slot, Fringe is now more free to play to its fans, rather than try to bring in new viewers on a weekly basis.

"If we just transfer the ratings we have to Friday nights, we have significantly increased our audience in terms of number and quality," he said. If they can keep up the numbers--and the DVR numbers as well--Fringe could stick around "for many years to come."

So... if you watched Fringe when it aired on Thursdays, please watch it on Fringe

Lie to Me: "[Lie to Me] has developed a very loyal audience, where ever we put it." While its fate is still undecided, it doesn't depend on just whether The Chicago Code succeeds or fails, but all of the other midseason shows as well.

House and Bones: Reilly said that he anticipates that both House and Bones will return next season. Some contract negotiations going on behind the scenes but both shows are creatively strong.

Locke & Key: Reilly said supernatural drama pilot Locke & Key was originally intended for summer but it's now being looked at for elsewhere. "It's in the hopper for May and we'll see."

Lone Star: "We could talk a long time about it. We made a show that we really loved... Not enough people showed up to watch it," said Rice. "The truth is it failed. It failed to meet expectations we had... I'd much rather fail w/a show that we're creatively proud of."

Reilly said that the remaining six episodes of Lone Star could still air, but... "I can get you a discount on the box set," said Reilly.

Terra Nova: Rice said that Terra Nova is "on budget" and denies there are budget overruns, while Reilly said that director Alex Graves came in "right on budget" whilst shooting the two-hour pilot in the Australian rainforest.

Running Wilde: "I think I watered down Mitch's vision," said Reilly, joking. "I think the show was struggling to find its legs." He went on to say that it was a case of too little, too late when the show found its feet.

Glee Redux: Reilly on competitors' efforts to replicate Glee: "It will just make #Glee look that much better."

Development: "There is a long-term focus on what our schedule should be," said Rice. Same amount of money was spent on development this year, maybe even more, he said.

And that's a wrap for the executive session.

Day of the Dead: Inside Torchwood: Miracle Day

On Friday, Russell T Davies, Eve Myles, Bill Pullman, and Mekhi Phifer gathered at the Television Critics Association Winter Press Tour to tease some details about Starz/BBC's upcoming Torchwood launch, which had been codenamed Torchwood: The New World.

Up until now, very little information had been available about the ten-episode project, which is set to air Stateside on Starz beginning July 1st, airing day-and-date with the United Kingdom. John Barrowman's Captain Jack and Eve Myles' Gwen Cooper were back, some new characters were in the mix (look for Pullman, Phifer, Dichen Lachman, and others), and the action would be split between Cardiff and the United States.

So just what is this new season about? And how is it connected to Torchwood: Children of Earth? Read on.

For one thing, the title isn't Torchwood: The New World, but rather Torchwood: Miracle Day and the plot revolves around a very strange set of circumstances that connect both to the fate of the planet and Captain Jack Harkness himself.

"The premise is a miracle that happens to the world," said Davies on Friday. "It’s as simple as this, that one day on Earth no one dies. Not a single person on Earth dies. The next day no one dies. The next day no one dies and on and on and on. Now, the sixth day, the old stay old and keep getting older. The dying keep dying, but no one quite dies. The possibility of death ceases to exist. Great news for some people, but globally? That’s what the whole show is about."

"It’s an instant overnight population boom where, suddenly, the Earth relies on people dying. That’s how the whole system works: the food, the room, the temperature. So, suddenly, you’ve got a crisis affecting everyone on the planet, and that’s where the Torchwood team and our brand-new characters come in."

While the action may have shifted to a more global approach and there are far more American accents in the mix than before, don't think that this Torchwood is an entirely new beast. The fourth season still has a strong inherent link to the plot that has come before and it's a continuation of the story of Jack and Gwen.

“Torchwood has a history, Captain Jack has a history," Davies said. "It’s very important to say that, in many ways, while loving and embracing everything we have done in the past, this is a new start for Torchwood.”

Part of that new beginning is the introduction of several new characters. Phifer will play Rex Matheson, a CIA agent.

"[He] is a CIA agent, who is trying to figure out what Torchwood is and what’s happening and why the Earth is being targeted," said Phifer. "So he goes on this whole investigative tirade, if you will. He’s sort of a cocky, arrogant kind of guy and a little full of himself at certain points... But when it all hits the fan, he is very dedicated, very focused and really wants to help find out what the hell is going on here."

Meanwhile, Pullman will play a very different sort of character than you'd normally expect the one-time Independence Day star to take on.

"I [play] a convicted murderer and a pedophile," said Pullman to a shocked room of journos. "I’m put through lethal injections to be executed, and I live. That’s the beginning."

Regarding the casting of Bill Pullman, Davies joked, "I thought, I’ll get Bill Pullman in. I just need to make room for him. Put him to the sword to get the man. Yeah. It’s
actually a feature of Torchwood that I think promises to hold back a lot of more straightforward science fiction shows on big networks in that you get a cast of 12, and they are all under contract for seven years. So they all stay with you for seven years. Torchwood was always at a high body count because I think it makes the story stronger and more dangerous and more frightening. You cannot guarantee who here will survive, and I think that raises the stakes for everyone."

(I'd actually agree with that assessment.)

And, as mentioned earlier, the plot of Torchwood: Miracle Day hits home for Jack Harkness, afflicted as he is with immortality. Just don't expect the Doctor to turn up any time soon.

"Captain Jack is an immortal, and what we are talking about is the world turns immortal," said Davies. "So there’s an awful lot of story packed into that... We honor and respect history. There’s no break in continuity. There’s no fracturing. There’s fewer references to [Doctor Who], let's be honest, because we are making a show out here, they are making a show in Britain. It’s quite difficult to coordinate any sort of crossover. Neither would you want to because both shows have a fantastic identity of their own. But for those fans who like that sort of stuff, it’s still absolutely faithful, and [if] you get the odd little moment it will satisfy on that level."

Finally, Davies applauded the series' new home on premium cable network Starz.

"We are talking premium cable," he said. "We are talking about a channel that is dedicated to bold ideas and exciting ideas and stuff that you won’t fit onto a network, and that’s always what BBC One has been back home. That’s always what Torchwood has been in its various guises. So it’s been a good fit. It’s been a wonderful fit, and we’ve learned a lot. And once we hit filming, we’ll learn an awful lot more."

Production began today on Torchwood: Miracle Day, which will launch July 1st on Starz and internationally on the same day.

The Daily Beast: "Masterpiece, Icon of PBS, Turns 40 Today"

PBS' venerable anthology series Masterpiece celebrates its 40th birthday today.

Over at The Daily Beast, in my latest feature ("Masterpiece, Icon of PBS, Turns 40 Today"), I talk with Masterpiece executive producer Rebecca Eaton, who has been in the top job since 1985, about the 40th anniversary, the 2008 rebrand, and looking toward the future of this franchise.

I also pick 12 of the best shows from the last four decades of Masterpiece, no small feat given the thousands of hours produced, co-produced, and acquired by the PBS series.

(I could easily pick 50 of my favorites, so, yes, there are quite a few worthy ones that didn't get selected.)

I am curious to know: what are your memories of Masterpiece (and Masterpiece Theatre)? What does the franchise mean to you? And what are your favorite Masterpiece programs from the last four decades?