By Steve Rhodes

Watching Live Earth on regular ol’ broadcast TV was an incredibly frustrating experience. Sure, the live Internet feeds worked great, but I still wanted to watch it on a bigger screen – television is still at times a superior visual platform, though an enterprising movie theater would’ve found a way to take the Internet streams and put it ’em up on the big screen.
I flipped between three stations with varying Live Earth coverage late Saturday afternoon and Saturday night – NBC, CNBC, and Bravo. Here’s what I saw.

Read More

Posted on July 9, 2007

By Kathryn Ware

John From Cincinnati is one whacked-out show. Theories abound on the Internet as to just what’s going on in this series, HBO’s hopeful successor to The Sopranos. The first two episodes were baffling in a Twin Peaks way, which was unexpected and frustrating. It made me miss Deadwood, creator David Milch’s previous endeavor, all the more. (I have a friend who’s boycotting John From Cincinnati; doubtless he’s not the only one hoping a ratings flop will open the door for Milch and HBO to resuscitate Deadwood. I’m convinced even Zippy the parrot couldn’t bring that series back to life.)
JFC centers on the Yost family of Imperial Beach, California, three generations of former and future surf legends who have seen better days. Mitch (Bruce Greenwood), the patriarch, blew his knee out years ago. His son Butchie (Brian Van Holt) blew his career on drugs. And now Butchie’s teenage son Shaun (Greyson Fletcher) is blowing away the competition, the next superstar surfer in the Yost family. Mitch’s wife, Cissy (Rebecca De Mornay), is angry at the world but she’s doing her best to help Shaun achieve his dream. Mitch however, doesn’t want Shaun to end up like Butchie.
The Yosts are surrounded by an eclectic menagerie, most of whom are shrouded in backstory we’ve yet to discover. JFC has surfing, drug addiction, levitation, a potentially haunted motel room, resurrection (both human and parrot), greedy agents, a drug-dealing guardian angel, a bubble-wrapped circular stairway, and strange visions shared by multiple characters.

Read More

Posted on July 6, 2007

By Scott Buckner

The past two weeks of involuntary unemployment has turned me into a surly TV watcher indeed. And quite frankly, the incessant grind has been screwing with my will and ability to write anything. When the most useful two hours of your day is reduced to arguing with yourself over whether Judge Marilyn Milian of The People’s Court or Judge Maria Lopez of, um, Judge Maria Lopez is the hotter TV-judge babe, spending the other 22 hours sprawled out in an alley with a bottle of Mad Dog and a crack pipe in your lap starts looking like an attractive option.
I’m going with Judge Milian. She’s what actress Marlo Thomas would be if Marlo decided to become a really great dominatrix instead of That Girl”in 1966.

Read More

Posted on July 3, 2007