A Different Kind of Rifle-armed

The Common Man was surprised to find out, when he got home last night, that his Tivo has been making some strange suggestions. For instance, The Common Man has little use for telenovelas like El Corazon Prohibido, or for something called Degrassi: The Next Generation. However, Tivo was right in its guess that its owner would appreciate a look at the iconic Western The Rifleman. The Rifleman, which aired on ABC from 1958 to 1963, ran for 168 episodes and starred Chuck Connors. It was the story of Lucas McCain, a widower who moves with his son to New Mexico, and uses his modified Winchester rifle (which allows him to fire a bullet in .3 seconds) to help the local Marshall.

The Common Man was excited because Connors, who got his big break playing the original owner of Old Yeller in the Disney classic and led to his role in The Rifleman, also was a bit of ballplayer. Connors was originally signed by his hometown Dodgers in 1940, but enrolled in Holy Cross soon after. After being drafted by the Yankees in 1942, he was drafted by the Army and served as a tank maintenance instructor until 1945. In 1946, he convinced Branch Rickey to sign him again to a minor league contract, and played four years in the Dodgers’ minor league system (and playing in the NBA during the offseason before getting a one at-bat tryout in 1949 (he grounded into a double play).


While Connors had significant success for the Dodgers’ farm clubs through 1949, he took a significant step backward in 1950. In 1951, Connors was shipped with Dee Fondy to the Cubs, where he was assigned to the Los Angeles Angels of the PCL. Connors had great success in LA in the spring of ’51 and was called up by the Cubs to take over for a faltering Fondy at 1B. He was given a disastrous extended trial as a 30 year old rookie, hitting .239/.282/.303 and 2 HR in 215 plate appearances. The next year, Connors was sent back to LA, where he struggled with injuries and eventually retired.

Before he did, Connors’ square jaw, on-field antics, and wavy hair were noticed by a fan in the entertainment industry. The unnamed fan inspired Connors to try acting after his baseball career was over. His success in the late ‘50s and early ‘60s, however, dried up as the public moved on from straight-laced, earnest John Wayne-types and embraced the darker, more rebellious, anti-establishment heroes played by Eastwood, Newman, Beatty, and Redford. Connors retreated to occasional movie roles (as the father in Flipper, and the heavy in Soylent Green, and The Sarge in Airplane II) and guest spots on Spencer: For Hire, The Love Boat, Fantasy Island, and Murder, She Wrote.

The life of Chuck Connors, despite reaching the pinnacle of both of his chosen professions, is something of a disappointment. Connors clearly had the talent to play major league ball; his minor league stats are Andre Ethier-like (low .300s BA, 15-25 HR/year power), particularly impressive given the developmental time he missed in college and in the Army. By the time he got back to playing ball full time, Connors was 25, and only got a real shot at 30. And while his good looks made him a terrific hero for early-TV Western morality plays, his limited range and lack of emotion left him unable to adjust to the changing needs of Hollywood following his short peak. If Connors had debuted in the early ‘40s, in either field, he might have truly become a legend and a household name.

Connors died in 1992 from pneumonia related to lung cancer. He was 71.

What You Should Have Been Watching: Millennium

All The Common Man can say is, don't do it America. If this CNN report is to be believed, many of you are thinking about ditching your cable TV or satellite service for the glories of television on the internet, "Data show that increasing numbers of people relying on the Internet for at least some of their TV viewing. Users watched more than 24 million videos on Hulu in December, a record for the fledgling company. And Joost users viewed 818,000 hours of video in January, up 25 percent from the previous month, a spokesman said. A recent survey of 3,000 prime-time TV watchers by Integrated Media Measurements Inc., an audience tracker, found that 20 percent watched some TV online."

It's not that TV on the internet isn't a good idea. In fact, The Common Man has been known to catch up on his Lost or his Battlestar Galactica or his 30 Rock or his Friday Night Lights on occasion. When he was painting the house, he went through the first seasons of Weeds and Dexter. But understand this, dear friends. The internet is not soon likely to replace your television. Particularly if you're a man like The Common Man. Because football, baseball, and the Final Four are not likely to be adequately represented there anytime soon. Baseball does have a Season Ticket option that will allow you to watch local games online, but for the playoffs, you'll need your TV. And the big networks have exclusive control of football for the next few years.

And if you do give up on your cable, America, you'll miss out on reruns of Millennium, the most recent installment in The Common Man's attempt to shape your viewing habits. Millennium was Chris Carter's follow-up show to the iconic X-Files, and was a creepier and more extreme version of the same show in the run up to the year 2000. The series starred veteran character actor Lance Henriksen as Frank Black, a profiler with a unique ability to see and comprehend evil. Black works for the Millennium Group, a shadowy organization of former law enforcement officers who consult for the FBI and local police departments on difficult cases, and who believe an apocolypse is coming. The Millennium Group uses the crimes they investigate to better understand the coming apocolypse and how to prevent it (or perhaps control it).

Complicating matters is Frank's driving commitment to keep his family safe. Following a breakdown, he and his wife and five-year old move back to Seattle to recover and to build anew life. Yet, danger and evil keep seeking them out, and Frank struggles to meet his goal, especially when the larger goal of preventing the apocolypse (which, you know, would benefit his family a little) seems to conflict with short term desires to protect them from harm. His struggle mirrors the difficulty of being a father and husband, when things beyond a man's control can threaten to take what he holds dear and has vowed to keep safe, no matter how strong, courageous, and intelligent a man is.

The larger plot of the series becomes very convoluted, and each of its three seasons has distinct differences, as the creative decision makers changed each year. What was consistent was the characterization of Frank and his family, and a dreary and ominous feel to the show, almost a dread. It is filled with disturbing iconography and images and just feels creepy. And as one of the first shows to deal with with "profiling" (which has since become cliche), the show was truly groundbreaking. And Hendriksen's work here, as well as the work of Meghan Gallagher and Brittany Tiplady (as Frank's wife and daughter, respectively), is really excellent. Hendriksen's haunting and gravely voice bely a weariness and worry, but also wisdom and compassion, and his face seems etched with the evil he has faced.


If you're a fan of the horror genre, and of serial television like Lost, Millennium is a terrific show for you (plus, Terry O'Quinn!). It's not perfect; at times, for instance, in the third season it drags. But it's compelling and addictive. You can find Millennium on ChillerTV, where it's rerun three times a day, and you can find out whether this world survives an apocolypse in the year 2000.

What You Should Have Been Watching: Doctor Who

To discuss this most recent addition to the list of shows you should have been watching, is only appropriate today. For four years, the reboot of Dr. Who has been wowing audiences on both sides of the pond, largely through the excellent work of series producer Russell T. Davies and star David Tennant (the 10th doctor). The show has been progressive in its portrayal of sexuality, prejudice, and other social issues. It has not ducked social commentary at any point, and has both deepened and simplified the Dr. Who mythology, making the show far more accessible to fans.


Both Davies and Tennant have announced that they are leaving the show. Davies has turned production over to one of his lieutenants, while Tennant is scheduled to appear in four special episodes this year before handing the reings over. According to BBC News, the new Doctor, Matt Smith, is a relative newcomer to television, and the youngest ever Doctor (he's just 26). The casting decision has the internet abuzz today with fans at once intrigued and confused about the decision, and wondering what Smith's casting will mean for the series's future, particularly since the Doctor is supposed to be more than 900 years old.



The series revolves around a time-traveling alien (The Doctor), whose ship (TARDIS) allows him to travel anywhere in time and space. The Doctor generally travels with a companion or two who help(s) him right wrongs, prevent disasters, and generally meddle. In this most recent incarnation of the series, The Doctor is the lone surviving member of his race (the Time Lords), and seeks out these companions to combat a powerful and overwhelming loneliness.

And Chad Orzel, over at Uncertain Principles, wonders what, exactly, the big deal is with Doctor Who,

"I've watched it on occasion since the days when PBS re-ran Tom Baker episodes, and I just don't really see the attraction. I don't hate it, mind you-- as I said, I've watched a fair number of episodes over a period of many years. But its main appeal for me is pretty much on the level of kitsch-- chuckling at the charmingly inept special effects, the character affectations, the deus ex machina endings of most of the plots, and that sort of thing. It's goofy and fun, but I have a really hard time taking it seriously."

Here, in pleading his ignorance, Orzel has hit on the exact appeal of the show. As I wrote in his comments section, "I like to think of it as a madcap romp more than anything else, and don't mind turning off my brain a little each time (okay, we're in Pompeii. okay, we're in a 41st century traffic jam. okay, we're at the end of the universe.) in the name of social commentary and good fun." Frankly, it's not supposed to be taken seriously, but taken as fun. It's a chance to get lost every episode in a different totally different world, to imagine what can or should be, and to fight a swashbuckling adventure against evil in various forms.

While the special effects of the original series, as Orzel points out, were hokey and often laughable (though, to be fair, the show aired 40 times a year at its peak and visual effects were far cruder then than they are now), the Davies reboot, however, has had sparkling visual effects. The aliens are more believable, the ships and explosions are bigger and more exciting, and the physics of the show seem far more real.

What has remained consistent throughout both incarnations of Doctor Who, however, has been the show's optimistic outlook about humanity's potential to accomplish greatness (also, its potential to be destructive), its irreverence and the banter-y kookiness of its title character. Indeed, The Doctor has always been the backbone of the show, using his wit and his genius to appeal to everyone's inner nerd, despite the fact that he's kind of a fop. And Tennant and Christopher Eccleston have both admirably lived up to the character defined by Tom Baker, Jon Pertnee, Patrick, Troughton and others while each adding a unique flair (Eccleston was goofy and affable, Tennant tragic.).

Remaining mired on BBC America and the SciFi network has insulated the show from the network meddling that will eventually derail Joss Whedon's new Fox show, Dollhouse, but has also drastically reduced the show's potential audience base. As such, many American viewers simply have not noticed the show, which is clearly and consistently funnier, more tense, more exciting, and more interesting than 90% of shows on the traditional networks. For now, you can find the first three seasons of Davies's Doctor Who online at Netflix, along with several old episodes of the original. The fourth season is currently in reruns on both SciFi and BBC America. Fortunately for you, while four seasons sounds like a lot, a British season is just 10 episodes long, so you can catch up in no time. Then you can be ready in late 2009 or early 2010 to rip on the new guy.

Sex Edutainment

Last week, The Common Man was driving home with The Boy, when his interest was piqued by an NPR story about teen sexuality, pregnancy, and television. And since teen pregnancy has been in the news a lot this past year (with, for instance, the success of Juno (good movie, by the way), the pregnancies of Sarah Palin's daughter and of Brittney Spears' sister, and the alleged "pregnancy pact" in Massachusetts), The Common Man listened closer. It seems the RAND Corporation has discovered that "teens who watch programs that contain a lot of sexual content are twice as likely to be involved in a pregnancy."



This is not to say that television is the cause of teen pregnancy and increased sexuality, of course, just that young people who like to watch shows where the characters obsess about sex and relationships tend to be interested in wanting those same things for themselves. And as Josh Schwartz, the creator of the CW show Gossip Girl, points out teens have been having sex and getting pregnant, "long before Gossip Girl … and long before there was even television." But popular culture is a driving force that stimulates demand, and it is worth asking the question of what role television (and film, and fiction) have played in the decisions teens make.

Back when The Common Man was The Awkward Teenage Boy, his father used to tell him about how he had never had a "girlfriend" in high school, per se, but that he had gone on dates with a lot of girls. That going steady, and officially beginning a relationship was a major step. The Common Man has no way of verifying if that's true or not, aside from anecdotal evidence. But kids today (and when The Common Man was in school) seem to be driven to find a significant other, such that monogamy was the norm. And when anyone is in a relationship, there is an inherent pressure to deepen the commitment and to "go further," to build trust and try new things, that often ends in sex.

And popular culture has certainly bought into this obsession. Characters find and woo their one true love, spend a few episodes (or a few seasons) exploring that relationship, have heartfelt and conflicted debates about whether they should have sex, and then have teh sex. Then, some time later, the couple breaks up, and it the characters both go on to significant and meaningful monogamous relationships with another character (hell, Dawson's Creek got SIX FREAKING SEASONS out of messing with this formula). And, of course, the current craze over Edward Cullen and the Twilight series of books and movies have the same underlying themes, as the female lead must decide whether to become a vampire and deepen her commitment to her undead boyfriend.

But it's silly to blame popular culture for teen pregnancy at this point. After all, teen birth rates (a silly term, who gives birth to teens?) have essentially been halved since 1957, according to the Guttmacher Institute. And during that time, popular culture has been working its sex-crazed, pro-monogamy mojo to the extreme. It's true that shows have been increasingly catering to a teen and tween audience, but it's not like teens didn't watch LA Law and Dallas, and Sixteen Candles and Say Anything in the past, shows and films the dealt with adult themes and crazy sex-having.

Indeed, teens that do choose to have sex today are better educated about the repercussions and apparently more careful about using contraception, and still fewer teens are having sex than during the sexual heyday of the 1970s and '80s. So, NPR, RAND Corporation, and morality activists everywhere, stop your hand-wringing and give some credit to today's teenagers, who on the whole seem to be able to make relatively good decisions regarding their sexuality. Most are smart enough to distinguish what they see on the tube from reality, and they should be encouraged to keep developing that skill. Let them watch what they want, but monitor it, and have informative, frank discussions with them about sex and what they see in the media.

Wake Up Call

Generally, after watching Sesame Street on the PBS offshoot channel Sprout with The Boy on Monday mornings, The Common Man zips over to his local PBS channel to catch another episode, which he and The Boy watch a few minutes of before he loses interest and wants to do something active with his little 2-year old self. Today, however, they accidentally hung around Sprout for a few extra minutes while The Common Man cleaned up breakfast.

And for his tardiness, The Common Man was rewarded with a few minutes with Kelly, one of the human actors who rotate co-hosting duties on the channel's Sunny Side Up Show (with a bird puppet named Chica).
Kelly's disarming, non-threatening cuteness, enthusiastic bubbliness, and little girl pigtails make her the perfect choice to host the show in the morning. Indeed, perfect for the little children who instinctively love adults who talk in a happy voice and smile a lot. And perfect for daddies who missed out on their morning caffeine-fix and needed something else to, um, get them going. Kelly's got the mid-twenties, enthusiastic-about-being-awake-at-8-in-the-morning, I-could-totally-be-your-girlfriend-and-wouldn't-at-all-be-a-hassle-and-would-totally-think-everything-you-said-and-did-was-just-super-and-would-totally-stroke-your-male-ego look down cold.

Now, The Common Man is not foolish enough to think that Kelly's off-camera persona matches her character that smilingly wonders what day of the week it is and reads off birthdays with a foam-rubber bird who speaks in squeaks. But reality need not enter the equation at 8 in the morning, staving off the squeaky-silliness of Elmo. The Common Man's mini-crush on the comely co-host makes the morning routine just a little more entertaining for The Common Man, and makes the happy-happy-joy-joy of children's TV a lot more bearable, helping him to be an enthused and exciting playmate for The Boy for the rest of the morning.

So this week's Beacon of Manhood goes to whoever hired the lovely Kelly to brighten The Common Man's morning. The Common Man salutes your foresight and understanding of the male psyche. Now, The Common Man demands that you get rid of the neutered male co-hosts who take the other two-thirds of the mornings away from Kelly, and disappoint all the dads (and non-traditional moms) out there who are so looking forward to some bouncy, happy pigtails. Instead, they see this:



Ugh. Buzz-kill.

Getting Real

The name "reality show" has always been a fairly nominal title, since the success of The Real World and the rise of so-called "reality" programming. Indeed, there almost nothing "real" about it. In real life, 20 strangers don't end up on an island in the middle of the Pacific, and slowly vote one another off the island. And 8 (or however many) people from various innane and stereotypical walks of life don't randomly cohabitate in the same apartment and not have jobs and get drunk every freaking night. Teams of two don't race around the world. And singing stars are not regularly semi-randomly plucked from obscurity to become overnight, overpackaged, and overexposed stars.

However, reality, the real reality, has sadly and brutally finally reared its head on reality TV this fall. By now, many have heard about Paula Goodspeed, a young woman who auditioned on season 5 of American Idol, and had her dreams crushed thusly:

Paula Goodspeed - Proud Mary!
by Mr-Tee

Since then, some online celeb news outlets are reporting that Goodspeed's fixation on Paula Abdul had grown and that she had begun stalking the former pop star. And two days ago, Goodspeed's body was found in a parked car near Abdul's house, dead from an apparent suicide. On her Myspace page, following her appearance on Idol, she wrote, "It's very hard reading such awful things being written about yourself...or hearing things being said...not like a lot of people would understand what it's like having so many haters, just because I made the mistake of trying out for a singing competition before I was ~even~ ready vocally, emotionally and physically. I have to believe there is ~something good about me..."

Then, last night on Survivor, a show The Common Man still digs, Randy, a 50s+ wedding photographer, accused fellow survivors (and lone African-American cast members) Crystal and "her boy" G.C. (who was previously voted off), of "running the tribe like a gang". And no one, not even the aforementioned Crystal, who looks as though she could kick his ass in a fair fight, called him on his blatantly racist language. In an age when a black man can be President of the United States, it pained The Common Man to hear such a disgusting accusation. Up until that point, The Common Man had had little use for Crystal, and had mildly dug Randy (who arrogantly kept plugging away, despite a caustic personality, average intelligence, and little athletic talent). And he had no real affection for either Crystal or G.C., who came across as whiny and sulking. But given how big of an ass they were partnered with, The Common Man can forgive a great deal of their sad-sack attitudes. The Common Man hopes that at some point this season, someone calls Randy on his bigotry.

Anyway, the tenor of reality programming was never high-minded (even the uplifting Extreme Makover: Home Edition and The Biggest Loser cater to the most voyeuristic impulses of the American public, and Home Edition doubles as an hour-long commercial for Sears every week). But perhaps, in light of these sad developments, the tenor needs to change somewhat. Sure, schadenfreude is a powerful force that eggs these shows on. But the producers and watchers of these shows (of which The Common Man is one and is equally guilty) need to realize that the "stars" of these shows often act deluded is because they are, indeed, unstable. And this instability can be further triggered and heightened when their bubble of delusion is pricked. And their downfall can have sad and terrible consequences for them and those they love. And when the basest rhetoric and accusations are levied by a boor and a bully at another person, and those challenges are not answered, this discourse can be normalized. Indeed, not everyone is going to disagree with Randy, or interpret his comments in the obviously racialized way they were uttered.

Anyway, The Common Man isn't sure how to take the more dangerous edge off of reality programming without getting rid of the vibe that makes it popular (though The Amazing Race tends to do a good job of that), making sure that those who utter blatantly racist or ignorant comments look like a fool on a regular basis). The Common Man doesn't want a touchy-feely reality, just one in which the vulnerable are not picked on, out, and apart by aging, acerbic asses in tight-fitting cardigans and overweight, middle-aged metrosexuals with waxed eyebrows and cowboy boots who appear to know no other phrases than "keepin' it real," "yo dog" and "1000%."

What You Should Have Been Watching: Life

Law and Order, more than any other show before or since, has defined the procedural show. By strictly dividing its hour into halves (conveniently law and order), the long-running NBC legal drama has at once elevated the procedural and dumbed it down for the common viewer. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, but given L&O's incredible success, it's not surprising that their model has run rampant across television (The Common Man is looking at you, every single show on CBS). As L&O has declined, other shows have shown real promise in revitalizing a formula that seemed static. House, for instance, has perfected the formula and consistently delivers an engaging, funny, and mind-bending hour every week.

Another program that has shown a great deal of promise over the last two years has been NBC's Life. Life takes the cop-procedural drama and adds a Veronica Mars-esque long-term story arc. Indeed, perhaps its best to think of the show as Veronica Mars for 30 year olds.

Damian Lewis (who will be instantly recognizable to any fans of HBO's excellent mini-series Band of Brothers, as Lt. Winters) stars as Charlie Crews, a Los Angeles detective who was framed for the murder of his best friends and sentenced to life in prison. When he is exonerated, Crews successfully sues the city and the department for several million dollars and to get his job back. Back on the outside and on the force, Crews uses the knowledge and skills he accrued in prison, as well as an offbeat, zen-like philosophy to solve crimes and annoy his partner (Sarah Shahi). In his spare time (since this is television), Crews spends his time searching for the people who murdered his friends and put him in jail.



It sounds gimmicky, and it is. But the shows producers exploit that gimmick, and Lewis's wonderful acting, to tremendous effect, allowing the crimes Lewis investigates to explore his mind and the nature of incarceration. Lewis shows off a manly intellectual curiosity, wanting to understand himself, human nature, and the world around him. While on the surface he seems calm, his obsessive and consuming quest to discover the truth belies an inner conflict that he struggles to contain. Particularly strong supporting performances by Adam Arkin and new cast member Donal Logue highlight Lewis's quirky performance, and ground what would otherwise be a heady, ethereal show about a millionaire cop in reality.

It's a testament to the shows producers that not a single moment of the show feels wasted. Indeed, every line uttered by the characters and every crime investigated add more depth to the characters, as they seem to grow and expand with each episode.

In its best recent episode, Crews and his partner are assigned to investigate a murder that occurred in a recreation of the famous Stanford Prison Experiment of 1971. As Crews reenters "prison," his familiarity with the guard/prisoner relationship, comfort in the prison setting, and recognition of the power dynamics at play all reveal as much about the effects of the prison system in the United States as they do about Crews. And in the end, he understands and bonds with the killer, lovingly advising him how to handle his time in real jail. Crews knows, above all, that everyone is connected to everyone, and that those connections make each person stronger. And in the end, that's what this show is, a show that seeks to understand human nature and to embrace it. To explore the better, and the worse angels of its nature. The Common Man appreciates its complexity and its simplicity; its humor and its seriousness.

Life is available online at NBC.com if you'd like to get caught up in a different kind of detective show, and airs on Fridays on NBC at 10:00 Eastern.

Quick Hits

Some random thoughts infringing on The Common Man's total and complete happiness tonight.

--It feels like The Common Man has a goiter in his throat. Or a grapefruit. Swallowing, obviously, is difficult. For what it's worth, that's a great weight-loss plan. But it only underscores that daycares are nests of germs and viruses. The Common Man's formidible immune system is engaged in battle and is currently winning the fight. Another night of The Boy in his parents' bed, kicking his father in the throat ever 20 minutes, however, may be the tipping point that leads to ruin. However, if The Common Man falls asleep watching baseball in the mancave, perhaps he'll get some extra rest.

--Speaking of baseball, The Common Man is terribly disappointed in his Minnesota Twins, who apparently forgot to bring their bats with them to Chicago last night. Getting just two hits in nine innings was unforgivable, especially since their pitchers held the hated White Sox to just five hits. It's sad that such a wonderfully unexpected season had to end in such bitter disappointment. And now, The Common Man is having trouble caring about the MLB post-season. He supposes that he's rooting for the Brewers and the Rays at this point, but it's half-hearted at best.

--And while The Common Man watches the postseason on TBS, he's reminded constantly of how little he likes Frank Caliendo and FrankTV. While Caliendo is a gifted mimic, and his impressions are almost all on point, he's not very funny in and of himself. His comedy feels incredibly forced. Anyway, TBS reminding The Common Man every commercial break that he has the option to watch FrankTV does not, in fact, make The Common Man more likely to watch. Rather, The Common Man imagines that there is some kind of inverse Frank Caliendo commercials to Frank Caliendo viewers relationship.

Also, Caliendo's over-reliance on his impressions begs the question of whether or not Frank Caliendo has a personality all to his own. Indeed, if Frank Caliendo is everyone, perhaps there is no Frank Caliendo. Perhaps his entire life is a long series of context specific impersonations. Think about it, have you ever seen the man out of character? Maybe that's because he's always in character.

--As long as The Common Man is talking about commercials, let's talk about the Mistriss Mandy gets blocked ads:



The ad itself is amusing, but that's not really the point. The point is that the Mistriss Mandy character is far more raunchy and suggestive than anything on basic cable today. Indeed, The Common Man would be far more likely to block out the Mistriss Mandy commercial than anything else he could find on basic cable. She's overtly sexual and aggressive, and far more likely to promote question asking from an older version of The Boy than, say, the 13 episodes of Law & Order that are on every day. So while The Common Man urges parents to be proactive in determining what their children are watching and are allowed to watch on a day to day basis, he really thinks these ads defeat their purpose, particularly when they run at 4:30 in the afternoon.

--Thankfully, one place that The Common Man won't have to watch Mistriss Mandy and Frank Caliendo and other annoyingly repetitive commercials of their ilk is on DirecTV's new 101 channel, as he enjoys the season premiere of Friday Night Lights without commercial interuptions. FNL had a tremendous first season, and an up and down second, but when it's on it may be the most real show on television today. It will soon be a What You Should Have Been Watching. If you haven't seen it, all the episodes are available online, and you will thank The Common Man profusely for his recommendation. When these other things conspire to ruin The Common Man's night, a little FNL goes a long way to making it better.

What You Should Have Been Watching: Jericho

Once upon a time, a plucky little show with a rabid cult following was cancelled by a big, mean, uncaring broadcast network. Indeed, this is a familiar story, one you've heard twice before as you read The Common Man's take on Firefly and Veronica Mars. However, this time something strange happened. After Jericho was cancelled, its fans organized, protesting CBS's decision and sending studio executives more than 20 tons of peanuts. Their efforts were rewarded when the president of CBS Entertainment sent fans of the show an open letter, saying "You got our attention; your emails and collective voice have been heard. As a result, CBS has ordered seven episodes of "Jericho" for mid-season next year."



It was an impressive victory, but shortlived. Hurt by the writers' strike and by continued middling ratings, Jericho was not renewed again this year, meaning that the show is likely dead. While producers and fans are hoping for a revival on another network, the sad truth is that it's likely that you've seen the last of Jericho on prime time TV. That said, there are plenty of opportunities to see all 29 episodes, since the show is now being run on the SciFi network and all the episodes are available for online viewing on Netflix, at CBS.com, and Hulu.com.

Jericho begins with perhaps the most shocking opening sequence in television history, as nuclear bombs wipe out many of America's great cities. Washington, Dallas, Chicago, Philly, Atlanta, Denver, Boston, Los Angeles, San Francisco, the Twin Cities, and several others were destroyed. The series deals with the struggles of one small Kansas town, Jericho, to recover in the aftermath of this attack, and of its central role in the rebuilding process. The town is filled with several stock characters, including the prodigal son of the town mayor. He has a mysterious past and shows up on the day of the bombings; so too does another man with questionable motives and a dangerous secret.

The show does have a strong father figure in Gerald McRainey, the mayor of Jericho, who spends much of the first season battling health problems and an ill-timed election campaign, and trying to figure out what's wrong with his sons. Skeet Ulrich, who plays the prodigal son, quickly sheds his shiftless and irresponsible image to become a driving force in the town's recovery, taking on additional responsibilities and roles when necessary. Indeed, the show is a celebration of the American small-town spirit, and every character seems designed to reflect the quality of middle-America.

What makes the show most interesting (beyond the constant desire to know what exactly happened and who set off those bombs), is how the show seemingly transplants the Iraq war to American soil. It deals with insurgency and insurrection. Infighting and town-on-town conflict. And, more than any other show before or since, explores the relationship between the Federal government and private industry, particularly the private security corporations (private armies) the U.S. uses to do a great deal of its dirty work. Indeed, Jericho is not shy in its depiction of Jennings and Rall, a Blackwater-esque company that benefits tremendously from the attacks, becoming the biggest supplier of goods and services (and security) in the Western U.S. The cozy relationship between private business and public government is explored extensively and seems remarkably relevant to this era of corruption and greed at the highest levels.

The acting, at times, is hammy, and characters have the frustrating tendency to disappear (sometimes for episodes at a time, sometimes forever). And some of the plot developments begin bordering on the overly convenient and/or absurd. And it can get complicated at times. Yet, in a world where Jay Mohr can get a sitcom and Two and a Half Men can shluff along for six lazy seasons worth of the same jokes, and ER and Law & Order, dammit, are still on the air, surely there should have been a place for a plucky, convoluted, genuine, timely, and intriguing show like Jericho, that isn't shy about its critique of the American system of government.

And there is still room for it, too. In your heart. The Common Man urges you to check out the first episode, and if you're not hooked he will send you his apologies and a nurse to see if you still have a pulse.

Quick Hits

--The Common Man rewatched Jon Stewart's interview with former British P.M. Tony Blair last night, and came away just as disappointed in the interview as he was the first time. Stewart, though a comedic genious, seems to have a pathalogical need to extort some kind of apology or admission from every single person connected in any way to The Bush Administration or the Iraq war.

While The Common Man sympathizes with Stewart's frustration and shares his view that invading Iraq was a terrible decision and that the prosecution of the war was unforgivably bungled, it serves no real purpose at this point, in front of a friendly audience (in studio and at home), all of whom agree with Stewart, to browbeat these former officials for the positions they held and to try to get them admit they were wrong. They know they were wrong, and 90 percent of America knows they were wrong. It seems to be a psychological need for victory that Stewart can never quite satisfy, an itch in the small of his back he cannot scratch.

Rather than pursue a line of questioning that could lead to actual insight from a man who has apparently has a close relationship with this President, his decision making, and his administration (particularly the intriguing question of exactly why Tony Blair likes our President so much and wondering about how Blair's newly acquired Catholicism has informed or would inform his decision-making, and what role religion does or should have in a democracy). The Common Man will embed the interview below so you can make up your own mind, but as much as The Common Man loves his work, he thinks Jon Stewart has bought into his own bull a little too much.





--After all, why focus on what the Bush Administration has done in the past, when you could talk about what they're doing right now to screw over this country. According to an NPR report this morning, the banking bailout proposed by the Bush Administration represents "the largest transfer of power from Congress to the administration that [Jon Macey, a professor and deputy dean of Yale Law School] has ever seen." The legislation gives the Secretary of the Treasury virtually unchecked power over any matter regarded to the bailout. In particular, the section that reads "Decisions by the Secretary pursuant to the authority of this Act are non-reviewable and committed to agency discretion, and may not be reviewed by any court of law or any administrative agency" is particularly troubling, as it freezes out oversight from any regulartory agency or legal action that would prevent the Department of the Treasury from taking action. Such a clause, it is The Common Man's understanding, could also allow the Treasury Department to withhold documents and evidence related to its decision-making that would shed light on any potential illegal or unethical behavior.

Considering this administration's close ties to business interests, their consistent attempts to grab more and more power for the executive branch (see Charlie Savage's book, Takeover: The Return of the Imperial Presidency and the Subversion of American Democracy), and their obsession with secrecy, you can bet that the last few months of the Bush Presidency (and potentially all the months of a McCain or Obama presidency) will leave this country criminally underinformed and its investors vulnerable. If you are at all a fan of smaller government, you cannot support this bailout as currently proposed.

--Last night's episode of Heroes was exhilerating. After a disappointing and convoluted second season, The Common Man is glad to see the fighting and the adventure and the crazy powers taking center stage again. The Common Man loves angst in his TV, but when it gets in the way of moving the story forward it simply becomes angst for angst's sake and the endless handwringing is most unmanly and boring. Do something already.

--Tonight begins the last stand of the Minnesota Twins, as they face off against the first-place Chicago White Sox in a three-game series to decide the American League Central. Two-and-a-half games back, it's likely the Twins will need to win all three games in order to have a shot at the division. The series is being played in Minnesota, and the Twins excel at home and the Sox struggle on the road. So there's at least a decent chance for the sweep. As always, The Common Man clings to hope until they have been mathematically eliminated. Good luck, boys. The Common Man will be watching in his Joe Mauer jersey tonight.







--And, finally, The Common Man would like to welcome Return To Manliness back to the blogging fold. Kevin was on hiatus for a while there, and The Common Man missed his insight and his visits to this neck of the blogosphere greatly. He's back writing and has a new layout (ooh, pretty!). So check him out.