Now I know the little deaths I’m thinking of hardly matter in the scheme of things. That’s The Scheme of Things. The Big Picture. The Big L. Real life. Believe me I know. I’ve lost both my parents, some of my closest friends to cancer, friends to suicide, to traffic, and a friend and colleague to murder.
But still the little deaths get to me. On the tube.
It’s not easy talking about this is in The Land of The Steiner, a community of TV Nein. Many of my friends not only talk about killing their TVs, but some actually do.
Some restrict their use. Remotes are confiscated. Evening hours are monitored. And in extreme cases, there are absolutely no TVs to be found. Even in the closets. I know. I’ve checked.
My friends Bill and David are borderline apoplectic on the subject. It’s not merely what’s on, it’s the thing itself. Something about waves and brains and passivity and radio’s so much better. It’s the agency of corporate tyranny, David asserts.
I mention Season One of “Treme” and Bill scoffs. I try to talk about “Memphis Beat” and what it says about contemporary racism and he shakes his head sadly. Then he recites all the books I should be reading. Books do everything so much better than TV. Without commercials.
It does absolutely no good to invoke TiVO, the God of the 30-Second Skip, and TiVA, the Goddess of Only Watch What You Want Whenever You Want To. They are only gimmicks. Bill has read Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television six times. TV is a modern-day perfect storm. You’ve got your GE-like autocrats who own the networks, and your creepy lying advertisers who use it. A perfect storm to sell us the crap we don’t need. A mind-sucking machine.
Arthur tells me that the TV has replaced the fireplace in many American homes. A bad bargain.
What can I say? I love TV. Not all TV. Not most TV. But good TV. Of course, many people think my taste in television leaves a lot to be desired.
Anyway, many of you might not fully appreciate that this is a time of great transition for some of us. The spring season is over and most series have just recently offered their finales. Vicodin-addled Geoffrey House almost killed Cuddy and her dinner guests, and is off on a beach. Patrick Jane has finally wreaked his revenge on Red John, the monstrous murderer who killed his family. Castle has watched as Detective Kate Beckett is shot, declaring a bit late perhaps, his love. And Bones is pregnant.
I’m fond of them all and look forward to renewing our relationship next fall. The worse thing is watching good television fall off the ends of the earth. “Detroit 1-8-7,” for example. One of my favorite programs is gone for good. Shot on location in Detroit, gritty, unsentimental, ABC’s “Detroit 1-8-7” starred Michael Imperioli of “The Sopranos” and the vodka ads and James McDaniel, a terrific character actor who did fine work on “NYPD Blue.” If God happens upon this musing, I hope he puts in a good word for “Detroit 1-8-7” with the folks at TNT. They were kind enough to rescue “Southland” when NBC abandoned it.
There are some other folks I’ll miss: the diabolical aliens of “V;” the ambivalent aliens of “The Event;” the intrepid explorers of “Stargate Universe;” the kickass US Marshals of “Chase;” the cops of the “Chicago Code”; and the undercover cops of “Dark Blue.” I’ll even miss those wacky cops on “Terriers” and the wacky Vegas lawyers on the son of “The Defenders.”
I believe several things about good television. These days it’s better written and more compelling than most movies. A tight forty-two minutes, with the help of TiVO, is easier to watch than an hour and half of so-so movie writing. Maybe it’s getting to know and care about the characters over the course of several episodes.
My family wasn’t slaughtered by a serial killer, but I’ve learned to care about Patrick Jane and his struggles to come to terms with his loss and his need for justice. I’m interested in the corruption and constraints the officers of the California Bureau of Investigation face. I’m interested in how Jane uses the skills he honed as a very successful fake psychic to reveal the lies of the liars we meet each week.
For me, good TV is catharsis, affordable theater at a time when I can’t afford most theater. Today, a really spiffy outdoor theater with good acoustics and stone seats costs and arm and a leg. Plus, you’ve got the sound of airplanes, barking dogs, chain saws, noisy neighbors, not to mention paying Equity actors and their pension and welfare. It’s easier to spring for a 42 inch SONY. Aristotle’s probably got one.
Anyway I experience the feeling of connection, joy, sadness, pity, relief. I am connected and committed to the con with my friends on “Leverage.” Uncovering the con on “White Collar.” I’ve worked for the Agency on “Covert Affairs” and “Chuck.” I’ve learned about appendectomies on too many shows to mention.
Lately the best shows are on cable. I particularly enjoy slightly eccentric shows like “Haven” and “The Glades” and like many people am continually impressed by the ensemble acting and production design of “Mad Men.” The last view years there’s been some very good work by Kyra Sedgwick on “The Closer,” Holly Hunter on “Saving Grace,” and Mary McCormack on “In Plain Sight.”
Now, thanks to cable, the days of little deaths are mitigated by new beginnings. A&E and USA and TNT have decided to bloom again when the big boys go to sleep.
I cried when they shot Detective Kate Beckett. All the more reason why I can’t wait to see what master forger Neil Caffrey is up to now. Long live “White Collar.”
Camille LeCrowe wants those who know and love her not to know what she really loves.