It is my opinion as well as my personal observation that all
writers work hard and all writers do the best they can. That’s why, in my imagined Emmy Award acceptance speech, I
announced that it is stupid for writers to compete against each other. (I added, however, that if they were going to
give out awards, you might as well win one.
You would have loved that speech.
Unfortunately, it is only accessible in my head, which is not open to
the public. Though there are occasional selected invitees.)
I simultaneously, however – and arguably contradictorily –
maintain that some shows, due primarily though not exclusively to the writing,
are qualitatively better than other shows.
An inconsistency, perhaps, but that’s what makes me the fascinating
blogger that I am.
Even on the middle level of dramatic entertainment, where Emmys are rarely – make that never – distributed, there are, I humbly
though unequivocally assert, gradations of quality. I argued yesterday, for example, that Law & Order is better than another
“police procedural” series called Blue
Bloods.
Why?
(By the way, it is equally the case that some TV critics are
qualitatively better than other TV
critics. I recommend Emily Nussbaum, who
writes for The New Yorker with such
delicious incisiveness she makes me want to watch the shows she’s reviewing
that, for various personal reasons, I don’t. Emily Nussbaum seems to “get” these shows so
intuitively you can easily imagine her writing successfully for any of them.)
Anyway, back to Blue
Bloods. Critiqued by yours truly.
Though I was obviously not present at the time to hear it, Blue Bloods appears to be a “bulletproof”
idea pitch.
“The show revolves around an extended Irish family – so it’s
a “family show.”
“We’ll buy it.”
“But more than a “family show”, it is also a “police
procedural.”
“We’ll buy it.”
“The lead character – and Tom Selleck is definitely
interested…”
“We’ll buy it.”
“… is a man, who, after a laudable career in law enforcement
is now the New York police commissioner, following directly in the footsteps of
his still living father. The now widower
commissioner – meaning he’s available for relationships – had four children,
one of whom, an FBI agent, was killed in the line of duty, and of the surviving
three – one’s a detective, another’s a beat cop and the third one, a tough but
idealistic female, works in the District Attorney’s office.”
“Stop talking. We’ll
buy it.”
And why wouldn’t you?
A “family police procedural”, starring an “available” Tom Selleck? The idea could have been manufactured by a
computer. If the network had allowed
them to continue instead of validating their parking and sending them merrily
on their way, they’d have heard about the family’s traditional “Family Dinner”,
in which the family’s four generations come together to share a meal, and to debate
that episode’s issue from their various perspectives – old versus young, male
versus female, cops versus the D.A.’s office, and the institutionally insulated
“Comish” versus the rank-and-file personnel working daily in the trenches.
The series coasts breezily along on its savvily calculated,
commercial concept.
Which is the first
problem I shall mention.
As a writer friend of mine observed, a show’s intentional “high
concept” may be a blessing as a selling device, but it is a weekly challenge in
its execution, as you are required constantly to “service the concept”, to the ultimate
detriment – not necessarily but quite often – of the episode.
By contrast, Law &
Order – and its subsidiaries – depend for their audience’s engagement on
whatever story comes thorough the door, as the series’ “regulars”, though
perhaps a “family” at work, are not encumbered by “familial obligations”, complicating
the narrative. They are simply, overall
though not always, grappling with the crime.)
So there’s that – a high concept that must be dutifully
serviced. And besides that – I mean, I
know it’s just middle-level entertainment, but still – Blue Bloods consequently reeks – not necessarily in a “stinky” way
but there is an omnipresent aroma – of contrivance. (What about a Mafia kingpin who visits a
psychiatrist, you may ask? At least,
before Billy Crystal got his hands on it, that
was an original contrivance.)
A contrived series premise – Good for selling. Less so for respectability. Not watchability. I’m watching it. But I also regularly eat wine gums – English “gummy”
candy – and nobody’s calling them “The Nutritional Super-food.”
Let me just tick off a few other evaluational elements, so this will not get excruciatingly
long.
A familiar lead actor – an advantageous, often obligatory,
selling tool. You’ve got a “name.”
The good news: The
audience has seen him before. The less
exciting news: The audience has seen him
before. Engendering the possibility of viewer
“burn-out.” Or, “I liked him better in
the other thing.”
The creativity of the casting: Less familiar and wonderful – Mariska
Hargitay – versus marketable, but you are suppressing a yawn.
By the way, in this conversation, the “creativity”
distinction will come up a lot. For
example in: “What is the episode
about?”
Blue Bloods did an
inevitable story about the “Blue Wall”, wherein the police adhere to an
unwritten code not to squeal on each other. The storyline derives specifically from an
issue “torn directly from the headlines”:
The excessive use of force while apprehending a suspect, which is fine,
though hardly virgin territory.
This leads me to another “gradation of creativity” element –
dialogue. Here is Blue Bloods’ “police brutality” episodes’ climactic “Payoff Line”, sonorously
intoned by Selleck’s Commissioner character:
“”You do not have to be strong to use force.”
Everyone – all together now…
“You have to be strong not
to.”
For that line alone,
Selleck deserved an Emmy in the
category: “Best Delivery Of A Predictable
Cliché.”
(To be fair, I also experienced an exhilarating snippet of Blue Bloods dialogue. When the Commissioner learns that his middle-aged,
aide-de-camp was being scammed by a sexy woman who lured him into a one-night
stand and is now blackmailing him for his indiscretion, Selleck ruefully
inquires,
“Did you not notice that you were punching above you weight
and that all of your punches were landing?”
That’s a wonderful line.
The trouble is, there are not enough of them.
So: Blue Bloods’ casting, story ideas and
dialogue – creative “B-minuses”, at best. Including the show’s title (“Hey, they’re “blue” and they’re “blood” – What
else are you gonna call them?”) Oh, by the way – and if you’re scoring at
home, that was my third “by the way” in this blog post – an Irish family where
all its members are in law enforcement? “Corned beef and cabbage, Batman! They should
be arrested for stereotyping!”
My final point on this matter.
I have this image of carpet installers using this special device
for kneeing wall-to-wall carpeting super-snugly into the corners of the
room. There is a counterpart to that in
writing. You do more than the minimum,
taking the time, the effort and the energy to work your way through the story methodically,
addressing the loopholes and incongruities and covering all of the bases, and
the final product receives a rightfully earned – though invariably unconscious
– appreciative “Ahhhh.”
My reaction to a show’s quality is substantially visceral. Today, I have tried to articulate the
underpinnings of that reaction.
There is probably more to it.
But for the moment, it is the best I can do.
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