The company I work for is responsible for promoting The King’s Speech and Blue Valentine, so although I’m sure they’ll be Oscar contenders, I feel that reviewing them would be a conflict of interest. Sorry, guys.
One of my pet theories is that leading Oscar contenders reflect a current mode of our times. Last year’s “Up In the Air,” for instance, hit hard on the layoffs that touched so many. This year’s theme, it seems, is enduring, despite overwhelming odds against you.
In the wonderful “Conviction,” Hillary Swank’s character battles for years to free her innocent brother from prison. You see her battle setback after setback. And still she hangs on. Believing that she can do it.
In the beautiful “The Way Back,” we have prisoners from a Soviet concentration camp, first exiled to Siberia. Then some of them decide they’ve had enough, and endeavor to escape (all of this being in the trailer, I’m spoiling nothing; also this happens in the beginning of the film). They do escape, and begin their trek. I suppose they are heading toward that nebulous “freedom.” Their path seems to go from Siberia to Mongolia to Tibet to India. On foot.
Needless to say, of the ones who start on the journey, not all of them make it, for various reasons. But it’s a battle. A struggle to survive. A struggle to make it to the other side. A struggle to be free.
It seems that many of us, with millions of Americans unemployed, are struggling just to survive, too. Hanging on. Trying to make that meager unemployment check last just a little bit longer. Piecing together rent with odd jobs, believing, against all odds that that next job is somewhere around the corner. I really believe that hanging on and believing you’ll make it is the new American dream.
No more streets paved with gold, we’d be happy to get a paycheck regularly. And this “endurance cinema” reflects that. Hang on, hang on, hang on, just a little bit longer.
“The Way Back” isn’t quite as bleak and despairing as last year’s “The Road,” but it’s a tough go. The ending brought tears to my eyes, but boy! was it a long slog to get there. Mind you, I do love Peter Weir as a director. His “Dead Poet’s Society” remains one of my favorite films. And visually (thank you, Russell Boyd), “The Way Back” is stunning to look at. Vast landscapes that include icy snow-covered peaks, as well as vast deserts.
In “Conviction,” though, it was clear what the motive and struggle was. In “The Way Back,” they put themselves though lots of dangerous situations, and it’s kind of unclear why exactly. They talk at the beginning about how “there’s a bounty on your heads,” from neighboring villagers, but this threat is never bourne out, or even hinted at, once they escape.
It’s enough of a stretch to believe that people one day just say, “Hey! Let’s walk across Mongolia!” but that they do it without ANY help from villagers along the way strains credulity a bit.*
I watch “Survivor” pretty much every week since it started (a few missed seasons here and there). The parts I love the most are the way people interact with each other (there is much of that in this movie). The parts I REALLY dislike vehemently (OK, I admit, I’m a city girl, and I’d never survive in the wild) are the parts where chicken’s heads are lopped off, or animals are otherwise killed for food. Sadly, there is also a lot of that in this movie.
Sure, I understand, they are starving, they need to eat. Do I really need to watch it, though?
Another endurance movie is looming on the horizon, one that I am distinctly NOT going to see: “127 Hours.” People in our office this week spoke again of people fainting at screenings. Know this, anyone who plans to go see this one: the hiker goes by himself into the wild, and ends up CHOPPING OFF HIS OWN ARM. And they show it. GRAPHICALLY. Why are people surprised about this? Every screening has someone fainting.
I don’t intend to faint. I don’t intend to see it, Oscar-worthy or not. I’ve had enough of endurance films for this season.
ADDENDUM: * I know it’s based on a true story. I know people actually did this. Still…
Remember back, if you can, to winter of 2003. Terrestrial radio was boring, bland, much as it is now. The only real “alternative” radio station in Los Angeles was the CBS monolith called KROQ. Not much of an alternative. People were turning to their iPods in droves.
Then, suddenly, on Christmas Day 2003, with a blast of The Ramones “We Want the Airwaves,” a real alternative was born, and they called it Indie 103.1. From that day till its final terrestrial one, January 15, 2009, we were graced with some of the best radio ever to cross airwaves.
But it was on February 10, 2004, that radio was truly changed forever. That day was the day the irrascible, farting, belching, dead-air-flaunting machine that is Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols began his radio career with his trusty producer, Mark Sovel, Indie’s visionary music director, by his side.
There were three versions of Jonesy’s Jukebox. The second version had Indie’s production director, Chuck P. as producer. But the Jonesy-Chuck P. mix just wasn’t the same thing. Jonesy seemed to want more of a lackey, someone he could kick around, and in came Kevin Begley, from Boston’s WFNX. Young, green, he suited the bill perfectly. Except for one thing.
The Sovel-Jonesy mix was an equal pairing. Modest Sovel, of course, will deny this, but while Jonesy was the star, the Sex Pistol, the legend, Sovel was also tops in his field of DJdom. For every Jonesy push, Sovel pushed back. Takes a lot of strength to do that. Strength that both Chuck P. and Begley ultimately lacked opposite Jonesy.
You can talk to anyone who listened to Indie 103.1 regularly. Every person will wax rhapsodic over which bits were their favorites. Whose show they liked the best, or listened to the most. Which guest really bowled them over. But among the hardcore listeners, the jewel in Indie 1031′s crown is, was, and always will be the Jonesy-Sovel pairing. Or “Shovel,” as King Jonesy decreed him to be.
Even today, as news came over the transom about Jonesy’s Jukebox once again hitting the terrestrial airwaves, the recurring question hitting my inbox was: “Is he doing it with Shovel?” (Aka, is it gonna be great again? Or crap?)
More on that later.
Cause there’s another big ugly pink elephant in the room. During Indie the upstart’s years in terrestrial radio, not only were they at first not taken seriously; they were then openly harrassed by the monolith KROQ. The big station (I took to calling it “The Evil Empire” on my podcast and blog) spent quite a lot of time kicking the little station that could. They might say it was all in good competitive fun. But it did get ugly.
After hanging on for five long wonderful years (a Sex Pistols reunion and tour of Europe in the mix), way past when anyone thought they would, Indie 103.1 ended its terrestrial operations, gutted its staff and opted to keep the Internet version of the station, which was still drawing ads, going. It’s still going now (http://www.indie1031.com).
One thing KROQ was good at during those five years and after is stealing Indie’s best stuff. Bands, songs, playlist items, even staff. I suppose it’s no surprise then, in these recession days when Yahoo has to suck it up and be happy that Bing is now their search engine, that we find, beginning Sunday: Jonesy’s Jukebox will once again start spinning the tunes. (YAY! Applause) On the Evil Empire, KROQ. (Hmmm.)
It is with trepidation that one hears that news if one is a hardcore Indie 103.1 fan. But I’m happy to tell you that it’s the good version of Jonesy’s Jukebox: the one with Shovel alongside. We can only wonder if “Fast Food Rockers” and songs accompanied by melodica are far behind. (This version’s focus is more “new music,” apparently.)
Those Jukebox shows were truly magic. The more interaction with Shovel the better, in my view. Jonesy can get a bit ornery, even for the most dedicated listener. Thank God, Shovel’s there to balance him out, to bring the funny. Radio truly almost doesn’t get better than that.
I know it’s KROQ, but listen, won’t you?
************************************************
The fourth edition of Jonesy’s Jukebox begins airing Sundays from 7 pm to 9 pm, this Sunday, October 10, on KROQ, 106.7 in Los Angeles. You can also stream it here:
KROQ radio stream
Two things are the most fascinating after watching “The Social Network,” easily the most fascinating movie of this year. One: most of the people involved with making this movie don’t have a Facebook page themselves.
Two: People can see the exact same movie and come away with totally different viewpoints on who did what. Aaron Sorkin, the screenwriter, wasn’t kidding when he likened this movie to “Rashomon.” It is an incredible script, one that is sure to garner Sorkin a long-overdue Oscar. It is as easy to understand if you are a longtime Facebook user, or never even looked at Facebook in your life.
It is a machination of plot, spinning around the transcripts of real court cases. Friend against friend, classmate against classmate. And yet, it speaks to the quintessential question of our techie age: how can we create a cool app/product/website that everyone is going to love and use and make us rich in the process?
What a strange dichotomy that someone who seems to have such difficulty making friends creates the most social product out there.
My friend viewed this movie and came away with an image of Mark Zuckerberg as a “manipulative asshole.” I saw the same movie and saw, finally, the whole story laid in front of me. Saw how Zuckerberg pretty much had to do what he did. I don’t fault him at all, and I was rooting for him. In fact, in finally paying the amounts in question, he did right by his friends. Saverin is back on the Facebook masthead. All is now right with the world.
And just to be safe, he donated to some New Jersey schools on the day the movie opened. No, I see Zuckerberg as a good guy here.
Incredible director David Fincher also excels. The movie is stunningly shot. Harvard has never looked so good. Jesse Eisenberg, in the lead, does a fantastic job of walking us through the story. His best friend, Eduardo Saverin, played by the new Spiderman, Andrew Garfield, really makes you feel the pain he’s going through. Justin Timberlake is just perfect as Sean Parker, creator of Napster.
It’s like a multi-faceted prism. You can see each side clearly, as well as how they are all battling to be most beautiful, or in this case, most right. Wars of class and culture come into play. And out of all this morass, we have the incredible Facebook.
If there is anything faulting this movie it is Sorkin’s lack of knowledge about Facebook. And the fact that really, its key battle: the privacy wars, was completely neglected in this story. Maybe they are saving that for “Social Network 2: Privacy.” I can only hope they have someone who really knows the Internet writing about it this time.
Cause here’s the thing. Nora Ephron got it wrong too, when she wrote the almost instantly dated, “You’ve Got Mail.” It’s different when you live here. When you live on Facebook, online, on Twitter. There are nuances and details that it’s obvious this writer, though brilliant, missed though he combed through mounds of testimony and facts, and got an incredible story fashioned out of it. He missed the heartbeat of Facebook.
This is Facebook basically from the genesis of the idea until it starts branching out into other countries. Then the storyline drops the Facebook part, and focuses on Zuckerberg battling the court cases. By which time, he’s already a billionaire. You’re just not really sure why, if you aren’t already on Facebook.
I can just imagine the Twitter movie. Sigh. I heard Craig Ferguson (who used to mock Twitter himself until he actually got on it and used it) talking to two celebrities this week (on the same show). Both celebrities used the tired old canards: “why would anyone care that I’m getting a haircut? or eating a sandwich? or blah blah blah…” Obviously, they don’t get it. It’s like that with this Facebook movie too.
And, I’m sad to say, that’s what keeps it, for me, anyway, from being one of the best movies ever. It’s like Sorkin was so busy making all the partners dance that he kinda forgot what the party was there for. I’ll bet, if you asked him right now, he couldn’t even explain why Facebook’s growth was so incredible (and continues) and MySpace got huge and stopped growing. That’s pretty key to this story, and would’ve served him well as a screenwriter.
So much of the story is built around the “college campuses” idea, it doesn’t even really branch out into when other people besides colleges started using it. Or why. Why moms and grandmoms are suddenly on it. There is really a deep rich story there, too.
But for now, if we want the Facebook genesis story, this is it. I think it’s a wonderful film. I think it’s going to win the Best Picture Oscar and an Adapted Screenplay Oscar for Aaron Sorkin, and it’s deserved. Go see it!
Perhaps it started with “Inception.” Or “Toy Story 3.” Or those lonely souls who’ve already viewed “Winter’s Bone.”
But for me, the Oscar derby begins in full swing with Oliver Stone’s latest, and most successful opening, “Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps.”
SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN SPOILERS WITHIN
I entered the film with trepidation. I mean, here we are, a depressed people, our country gutted by these slime like Gordon Gekko who played fast and loose with our money. Why on earth would I want to see a movie that glorifies him and makes like he’s the hero?
For me, the answer to that is: it helps us understand. Oliver Stone’s “Wall Street 2″ gives us a little morality tale. It turns out that greed isn’t really good, even Gordon Gekko tells us that. But greed “is systemic, in everything.” And by everything, he means, not only the money he and those of his kind played fast and loose with, but also the suburban housewife who bought a nice house beyond her means, or those whose eyes are constantly moving up to the next hot thing.
He’s right about that. And in the end, it’s Gordon Gekko, challenging us. If the system is to change, we all must change.
Sadly, the script doesn’t really bear the conviction of its words. (For a minute, it does really make us think, though.)
There was a scene that really bothered me, which is representative of what I’m talking about. Gordon Gekko’s daughter, played by the Oscar-nominated Carey Mulligan (for “An Education”), is the hippie environmentalist. She doesn’t care for this money thing, she shuns it at every turn. Yeah, ok. Doesn’t wanna be like her dad. Get it.
Her fiance, Shia LeBouef, buys her a quite gorgeous diamond engagement ring. It makes her uncomfortable, all that ostentation and money and stuff. So sometimes, she takes it off. And in one of these moments, she grabs a Cracker Jack package. Opens it, BY HERSELF while her fiance is watching TV. Inside is a plastic ring (to say nothing of the reality that Cracker Jack stopped putting rings into prizes before this girl was born). In any case, she puts the plastic ring on her own hand, and proudly wears that one around in front of family and friends.
Wow. Isn’t she making a statement now?
Well, no.
Look, I’m a hippie environmentalist who eschews diamonds too. But here’s the thing. Nobody, even the brokest among us, is going to say or think that a cheap plastic ring from China is going to be better on one’s hand than a solid ring. It just makes you look stupid. Besides, it’s much more likely to break. Isn’t an engagement ring supposed to signify permanence?
Secondly, SHE takes it out of the package and puts it on her own finger. That whole thing just grosses me out. It’s supposed to be a token of a union between TWO people. He put the diamond on her finger, that’s the ring she should keep. That’s the one that signifies the bond between them.
Really, can you imagine the conversation (which never occurred in the movie), “Hey honey, do you mind if I don’t wear this ring you paid hundreds of thousands for? I’m just gonna slum it with this plastic Cracker Jack piece of crap.” Yeah, right. In what universe? Sorry, didn’t buy that at all.
Also, one would think the Michael Douglas character learned something in prison. Perhaps a bit of humility and concern for others. It’s a concept.
When the big reveal happens, it’s a sucker punch. Really? He learned nothing? Same old, same old? Sad.
And then, worse, he turns around and gets repentant, though there’s really no justification for this in the script. He just shows up one day after double-crossing them, and says, “OK, take me back now. I wanna be a dad again.” Really? And it’s that easy?
I hated that part of the movie. I liked the fact that it showed that life is about more than money moving around. I like that it opened up some emotional bonds between father and daughter and son-in-law. But it really didn’t seem to know what to do with those emotions. None of them seemed real.
Along the way, I enjoyed watching Carey Mulligan, Shia LaBouef and Michael Douglas in their machinations. Austin Pendleton was great, as always. Josh Brolin was a great bad guy, the motorcycle scene was awesome to watch. Frank Langella has a stunning cameo turn. He’s almost like if the Jimmy Stewart character in “It’s a Wonderful Life” had grown up and was still running a bank. Sad to see what happens there.
But I would’ve liked this movie better if it took a position and stayed there. Do we hate rich people? Or don’t we? Do we celebrate the money manipulators? Or don’t we? Is family more important than anything? Or isn’t it?
It will get some people talking. Oliver Stone is certainly a master director. But I’m still not sure I liked it.
“It started as a lobster fest with music. It’s become a music fest with lobster.” –Mark Sovel, former music director at beloved Indie 103.1, now music curator extraordinaire, expounding on Lobster Fest 2010
It was my first time at Lobster Fest in San Pedro. I’m not much for crustaceans dropped into boiling water. Sounds brutal. But I kept reading the band names. Envisioning them in my head. There’s no way I couldn’t go to this.
Three days of all kinds of fun and frivolity: pirates cavorting, carnival rides, food, drink, lobsters. For me, it was the music that made me drive to San Pedro for two of the three days.
The first night, though curated by Mister Shovel (aka Mark Sovel), had the prominent logo of the Station That Will Not Be Named (aka It Wishes It Were Indie 103.1), so I decided to skip it. Although I’ve never seen Spider Problem, I can vouch for Venus Infers and Saint Motel. Both are bands worth a drive to see.
Indie 103.1 was the kind of station where you wished you could hear every single song played (at least, that was my experience of it). I knew, for sure, that I would want to see every single band on Saturday and Sunday. I truly regret that my schedule didn’t allow it.
On Saturday, I missed Judson & Mary, Leslie Stevens & the Badgers, the Gram Rabbit side project: The Country, and We Barbarians. I am truly sad about that.
I knew that come hell or high speeding ticket, I had to be there to see AWOLNation. The always-must-see band Under the Influence of Giants had morphed into this new band, AWOLNation. Their hit single, “Burn It Down” was burning up the charts. It is one of the most requested songs on my podcast.
They did not disappoint, providing a raucous danceable set. Chairs had been set out discreetly for the crowd to sit and view the bands, but starting with AWOLNation, through all the rest of the bands on Saturday, people wanted to be up and dancing.
The Growlers, another local favorite, got an extended set. The dancing pirates dug them a lot.
Gram Rabbit, themselves possessing a strong local following, did not disappoint. Although for Gram Rabbit’s set, it was a battle of the headgear, of sorts. Imagine a Wisconsin cheesehead, except with lobster claws. Many people were sporting these over the weekend. Gram Rabbit’s signature prop, of course, are rabbit ears. Pretty funny to see the rabbit ears mixed in with the lobster claws in the crowd.
The Gram Rabbit show, which often sports bloody bunnies or bunnies bouncing through the crowd, was a bit subdued this time. They went more for an alien spaceship bunny dancing on stage.
It was about this moment, three bands in, that the feeling set in that remained the entire weekend. Each band was a tasty morsel unto itself. Each band offered a dramatic or fun or interesting stage show. Each band, as they left, you were feeling like you wanted to see more of them.
I have to say that this scenario is unusual for a festival, to say the least. My friend just asked me who was “the best” at Lobster Fest. I was dumbstruck. Running the slides of the bands in my head, it was impossible to choose just one, I was just really really glad I had been there for it.
I need to take a moment here to praise the curator of this festival, Mark Sovel. We’ve had a lot of festivals over the summer: Sunset Junction, for example, filled with bitter acrimony from townsfolk and bands alike. Cries of “overpriced” and “crowded” mixed in with disdain for some of the bands playing. Or the now KCRW “Also I Like to Rock” fest, moniker and vibe borrowed from Indie 103.1, and still it left you feeling like something important was missing. Both of these fests, and others I can think of this summer, all with the same thing in common: the bands are hit or miss. Some bands you like, others so-so, others you despise and won’t sit through.
Maybe it was the sleepy oceanside town of San Pedro, with its gentle wafting breezes. Maybe it was the super delicious food and drink available, with enough time between sets to get some and get comfortable again.
No, I truly believe that the fluke that was Indie 103′s music, a heartbeat crafted by Mark Sovel, was here carried out again at this festival. A throughline of cohesion and care. The music cognoscenti in the audience seemed to agree.
Let me just continue.
Fitz and the Tantrums, all sparkle and shine. Song lyrics in French. Active crowd participation. Way fun.
Dengue Fever, one of the uniquest bands on LA’s landscape, with a Cambodian singer and band members. Rock mixed with Cambodian music from the 50s. Danceable, poetic, so much fun.
Saturday evolved as a rocking good time. I don’t know about anyone else, but I was itching to get back to the music by Sunday morning. Still (sadly) missed Devon Eisenbarger and the Tijuana Panthers (so bummed about that).
Local favorite (formerly known as The Flying Tourbillon Orchestra) Walking Sleep kicked out some jams under the hot midday sun. It was hotter on Sunday, and more crowded.
Miss Derringer, another local band with a strong fan following, had them up and rocking.
It’s really crowded now. Nearly every seat was taken and most of the lawn. Words cannot describe the awesomeness of The Section Quartet, who do Radiohead covers on violins and cello. The crowd was rapt, totally into it.
At first blush, when one heard about “classical music” in the middle of Sunday’s schedule, it might have seemed odd. Maybe we should just learn to trust Mister Shovel by now, because it was just perfect.
It wasn’t even that one band was better than another. It’s just that, on both days, they evolved, of a piece. One into the next into the next. Every next band made sense from the last one. And really, how often to you see that at a festival?
By the time that John Doe and Excene Cervenka of the band X came onstage (to a capacity crowd), I was blown away by the real musical genius of Sovel putting these bands together. Didn’t really get it from reading the poster. But oh, to be there! To be experiencing it! Amazing. Truly amazing.
I support and encourage local music. I try to see it as often as possible, including various festivals. Perhaps John Doe’s words can echo through the community. He spoke of the former “rivalry” of San Diego and Los Angeles in a past music scene, and that he now wanted to extend an olive branch to San Diego: “Cause we’re all brothers and sisters.”
I wish the various people booking festivals around town could extend an olive branch to each other. Lots of great music in this town. It’s wonderful to showcase it. The community is always grateful for your efforts. But you must realize, if you don’t already, that Mark Sovel does music curation better than anyone in this town. Lobster Fest 2010 was proof of that.
I knew nothing about “Raising Hope” walking into the Paley Fest evening. Didn’t have much hope for it, either. In the end, it was the only show, over many nights, which elicited CHEERS from the crowds at the end.
Of all these shows featuring earnest handsome leads, Lucas Neff as Jimmy is the best of them. Created by the same talents which brought us the charming and quirky “My Name Is Earl” (Greg Garcia), “Raising Hope” is funny. Laugh out loud funny. The funniest of all these comedies paraded to us during Paley Fest.
I’ll let you discover the little gems on your own, but here’s the family you’ll be watching: the always amazing (and I predict an Emmy in her future right here and now) Martha Plimpton as the mom, Garret Dillahunt (whom you know from “Deadwood” and other dramas) is the dad. Cloris Leachman frequently takes her clothes off as the grandmother.
It’s sweet, it’s poignant, it’s damn funny. You must watch it. In fact, if you watch one thing you weren’t otherwise going to watch from the Paley Fest schedule, make it this one. It follows “Glee,” but it’s much funnier.
Did I mention there’s a baby? Normally, I hate babies, but this baby rocks. Watch it.
BOTTOM LINE: “Raising Hope” is the highlight of Paley Fest 2010 fall season.
Oh, I wanted to like “Running Wilde.” After all, “Arrested Development” is probably the best comedy of all time. Mitchell Hurwitz and Jim Vallely are geniuses. Cast members Will Arnett and David Cross are attached to this project. And I watched nearly every episode of “Felicity” and kinda miss Kerri Russell. What could go wrong?
Well, as it turns out, pretty much everything. Whereas “Arrested Development” was a delectable comedy that you could watch over and over and still laugh at new jokes, “Running Wilde” feels like a forced mess. Will Arnett is supposed to be playing a spoiled rich guy, something he excels at (and was pretty much his stock in trade on both “AD” and “30 Rock”). Kerri Russell plays the do-gooder environmentalist, fighting Arnett’s big oil company. What’s not to like?
You know how in finely tuned comedia dell’arte, characters rush around the stage in perfect timing, the timing of everything alone is what makes you laugh, in addition to what they are saying? Well, this is the opposite of that. Everyone is running around, slapstick like. But not in a funny way, just in an annoying way.
The only likeable characters are Arnett’s and Russell’s and those are marginal.
Oh yes, and let’s not forget that the whole shebang is narrated by Russell’s daughter, Puddle. *eyeroll*
No, this was such a mess that I won’t be revisiting it at all. The only real upside is that, for once, the focus of the show isn’t Kerri Russell’s hair. Small comfort.
BOTTOM LINE: Leave this “Running Wilde” in its puddle.
SPOILER ALERT within
Really didn’t know anything about this series before sitting down to watch “Lone Star,” the first entry in Fox’s night of new TV. Well, other than it’s set in Texas, of course.
So here’s the gist. Handsome and sexy James Wolk is a con man who works with his dad, David Keith. He’s married to lovely and rich Adrianne Palicki (who can’t seem to get out of Texas, and looks WAY different than she did on “Friday Night Lights”). Palicki’s rich dad, Jon Voight, offers the young buck a job at the oil company he owns.
But the man can’t seem to get out of his mind the other woman, Eloise Mumford. So, SPOILER ALERT, at the end of the episode, he marries her.
In “Big Love,” it’s one guy married to three (or is it four now?) women. All the women know each other and get along. In this one, the women don’t even cross paths (well, not yet anyway). And the man just travels a lot. Not sure how I feel about this bigamy trend. Guess it’s better than the electroshock torture that the previous Fox timeslot owner had been dispensing.
BOTTOM LINE: Pretty to look at, but are we interested?
The last presentation was Tom Selleck’s latest vehicle, “Blue Bloods.”
Some good actors in the cast (Len Cariou, Bobby Cannavale, Donnie Wahlberg, Bridget Moynahan, Will Estes). Not enough other stuff to remain interested, so I bailed on this screening.
Also, I’d heard that Selleck sees this as a “family drama,” while the showrunner sees it as “a procedural.” Blech.
BOTTOM LINE: Dunno. I skipped out of “Blue Bloods.”