NBC Sitcom Roundup for 9/29/11

The Office, Season 8 Episode 2 — "The Incentive"

I said last week that I won't belabor the point of Steve Carell's absence in these sitcom roundups – and I won't – but I will belabor the point of boss Andy being characterized in a way indistinguishable from Michael Scott. Granted, him having to report directly to Robert California, who is frequently in the office, adds a new flavor, but so much dialogue that comes out of boss Andy's mouth (especially the "cocker spaniel" explanation and awkward backpedalling in this episode) feels like they just took unused Michael dialogue from old scripts and did a find and replace with Andy's name. That's a problem.

But despite that, I did like the main incentive and tattoo story a lot. Andy upping the stakes on his point exchange offers, seeing the office come alive with hard work, and Robert's final explanation about the inspirational power of the underdog to the unexceptional all worked completely. And seeing the Nard Dog tattoo was actually a really great moment of office camaraderie that I didn't predict; probably one of the infinitesimally few reveals of a man's bare ass in the 133-year history of film and television that could be described as "heartwarming."

I thought less of the episode's B-plots. Pam and Angela's brief bonding and then feud over their pregnancies was a comedic nonstarter and didn't have enough time dedicated to it to do interesting character work, and Darryl reconnecting with his ex-wife went absolutely nowhere (although Kevin's response to her Dunder Mifflin entrance was pretty funny). I'm willing to assume for now that Darryl's wife is going to be a continuing story in episodes to come, and I hope I'm right, but The Office has bit me in the ass with seemingly unfinished stories that never came up again before.

Funniest Moment: As with last week, there wasn't really any singular moment that made me tilt my head back and roar, but it was a funny week for Kevin all around – both the intro with him talk funny, and his consternation at Dwight putting walnuts in the brownie mix.

Parks and Recreation, Season 4 Episode 2 — "Ron & Tammys"

This is one of the most rigidly segmented sitcom episodes I've seen lately – the three stories had absolutely no connecting tissue and didn't even have any character crossover; they could have easily been from three completely different episodes – but two of the stories were so damn funny I can't really find it in myself to care.

The heart of the episode was Ron taking the opposite approach from when Tammy 2 transformed him into a psychotic sex maniac and becoming creepily pleasant and unmustachioed, which was brilliant and gave Nick Offerman a great new angle to play. Tammy 1 is a perfectly conceived and performed character who simply must appear again, and the drinking contest at the end was awesome. Plus, April and Andy, while lacking any true spotlight, were consistently hilarious, from April's immediate love of Tammy 1 to Andy panicking and giving a false name before sheepishly backpedalling. Great stuff, great characters, greatness.

Also great was the Entertainment 720 subplot, both because Jean-Ralphio is awesome ("Take me there!") and because Adam Scott does the camera confessional cutaways better than anyone else on this show or on The Office. As I'm sure I've said before, it's crazy that Ben wasn't in the first season or most of the second, because he feels like such a crucial part of the show's DNA now that I can't even imagine it without him.

Less crucial feeling, I'm afraid, is Chris Traeger, perhaps partially because of how distant from everyone else he seems up in his office. Ann and Chris's subplot, while having a few laugh out loud bits (Ann shaking her head at the camera after telling Chris they're rolling), was kind of one joke hammered over and over, and definitely a bit of a buzzkill when compared to the other two stories. Still, even it probably made me laugh harder than anything else in any non-Parks, non-Office, non-Community sitcom episode I watched in the last week, which I guess is why these are the only sitcoms I put in the time to actually review.

Funniest Moment: It's a tough call between the party switch at E720, Leslie's reactions to drinking the Swanson moonshine ("POISON." / "What is that?!"), and Andy asking to take a peek at Tammy 2's acid-burned foot (mostly thanks to Chris Pratt's brilliant line delivery). Hilarity all around!

Community, Season 3 Episode 2 — "Geography of Global Conflict"

"Geography of Global Conflict" was another strange, hilarious, and aggressively irreverent episode that I can't imagine being much more hostile to conventional sitcom lovers. From Garrett's "CRISIS ALERT!" to Britta trying and failing to kick over a trash can to Troy taking the lid off Annie's cup to Abed's fixation on Earth 2 to Troy's Georgian accent to all the Lionel Richie music, it was weird and it kept me laughing loudly the entire time. Annie Kim and Professor Cligoris are both characters I'd love to see recur throughout the season. Especially Cligoris, since Martin Starr is high up on my list of the funniest actors alive who will sadly never become huge mainstream stars.

Despite being clearly stuck on B-plot duty, I'd go with Gillian Jacobs as the MVP of the episode, because I'm continually impressed by how much raw comedy she's wrung from what, at the inception of the series, was such a blandly "cool" and uninteresting character. Now Britta Perry is one of the best sitcom characters on television. How things change. Every scene she had across from Chang was hilarious. I also think Mel Rodriguez has been great as Chang's supervisor thus far, which is funny because I didn't really like him at all in Running Wilde. I guess it's all about having a good script to work off of.

The one bit I didn't like so much was Annie's freakout at Annie Kim. I would have been find if they'd left it at the screaming – there's precedent for that, especially in "Cooperative Calligraphy" – but the full-body freakout was a little out of character and just a little too much. But the show made up for it two scenes later with the Spartacus farting confession, so I can forgive and forget.

Funniest Moment: This is tough, but I'd have to go with Abed whispering nonsense to explain his plan, confident that the show will cut away, and Jeff correcting him. That's the kind of joke that feels like it was written just for me, and that assumed pop culture knowledge is a big part of why I love Community so much.

Weekly Power Rankings: 1. Community 2. Parks and Recreation 3. The Office

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Pan Am

The show: Pan Am, Sundays on ABC

The premise in ten words or less? Pan Am stewardesses in the 1960s. One is secretly CIA!

Any good? One surefire way to get me intrigued in a TV drama is to make a pilot that I can watch in its entirety and have no idea what's going to happen in the second episode, let alone the fifth or the tenth. The best way I can sum up my stance is that I like TV dramas with well-engineered seasons that within any given episode have no set formula or repeated structure. That's why, despite thinking both episodes of Prime Suspect that have aired so far are competent, I'm pretty sure I'm done with the show – the two episodes have the exact same structure and so will the next ten. That bores me.

And that's why I liked Pan Am. It's an odd show, to be certain, one that (despite premiering to a respectable 11 million viewers) I'm not sure will make it to a second season, but it sure ain't formulaic. The show focuses on four women, played by Kelli Garner and Christina Ricci and relative unknowns Margot Robbie and Karine Vanasse, who are stewardesses for Pan Am airlines in 1963. Like a certain other well-known 60s drama, it's set against a backdrop of retro glamour (in this case specifically revolving around air travel) while also depicting a darker undercurrent of ingrained sexism.

But lest you think the show is simply Mad Men on a Plane, it also has a spy thriller component, as Garner's character Kate is secretly working as a courier and spy for the CIA. What! Beyond that, it has a Lost-esque flashback structure and a story concerning the mysterious disappearance of the stewardess who Ricci has replaced. Mix all that with its empowerment message and you have an absolutely fucking packed show. The pilot doesn't contain anything you'd describe as an action scene but is nonetheless impressively breathless.

The other obvious show to compare Pan Am to is NBC's The Playboy Club. Both are new 60s-set dramas about women in outwardly glamourous, sexy careers who still operate under a certain misogyny – the Pan Am stewardesses have exacting restrictions placed on them in terms of age, weight, etc. – but unlike The Playboy Club, which forces us to view them through the viewpoint of Eddie Cibrian's (shitty Don Draper wannabe) Nick Dalton via the condescending and sexist assumption that we'll only be interested if we see it through a man's point of view, Pan Am actually lets the women be the main characters. Men play a role – most notably an airline captain played by Mike Vogel – but aren't forced into a leading role it makes no sense for them to be in.

The show's visual style is kind of dazzling, and, like its storytelling, weird in a good a way. The way the jets are filmed doesn't look all that much more photorealistic than the dinosaurs in Terra Nova, but unlike that show, it isn't aiming for realism and botching it. Pan Am's visuals gleefully reject realism and go about 10% askew from reality for this soft, colorful, nostalgic look that, of all things, made me think of The Incredibles and Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. I really hope that wasn't something they only put in the extra effort to do because it was the pilot, and the look is actually maintained throughout the series.

Perhaps the biggest surprise in Pan Am is how firmly Kelli Garner seems to be the main character. I'd assumed ever since hearing that Christina Ricci was cast in a TV show some months back that that show would be The Christina Ricci Show as surely as New Girl might as well be called The Zooey Deschanel Show, but, at least as of one episode in, that isn't the case. Like, not even a little bit. Ricci has less screentime, less development, less focus, and less dialogue than Garner. But the last five years of Ricci's film career haven't exactly been chock full of hits, so maybe I shouldn't be too surprised after all.

Okay then. Whew. I made it through this entire discussion of Pan Am's pilot without making one pun about a Pan Am pilot. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty sure I deserve a medal.

Will I watch again? I feel compelled to watch at least a few more and see if the show takes shape as something interesting. Granted, I have no trouble whatsoever imagining Pan Am quickly becoming a shallow, repetitive soap. But I can also easily see the opposite. I feel like writers and producers who make a pilot where I have no idea what the second episode will entail deserve my eyeballs for their audacity alone.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Terra Nova

The show: Terra Nova, Mondays on Fox

The premise in ten words or less? Family travels back to live in dinosaur times.

Any good? Yesterday I discussed Prime Suspect, a cop procedural that wrung water from the stone of its ultra-generic premise via strong acting and filmmaking. And today we examine the opposite: Terra Nova, a show with a unique, exciting premise and loads of potential that finds itself held back by shaky, lukewarm execution.

But we'll start positive, and the positive lies first and foremost in the show's setting and story. I mean, traveling back to live with the dinosaurs! That's just cool! I should mention that the characters in Terra Nova don't accidentally fall through a time rift and get stuck – this isn't Lost – but make the deliberate choice to journey back and escape the polluted semi-apocalyptic future of the 22nd century. In and around Terra Nova (the village they live in), in addition to dinosaurs both friendly and hungry, they find hostile tribes, sabotage, moles, mysteries, sonic boom guns, and plenty of other potentially neat concepts.

The problem lies not in the "dinosaur times" part of the premise but in the "family" part. Not that I have anything against families on television – hell, I watch NBC's Parenthood, which is a family show distilled down to nothing but family – but the central five-person unit here, the Shannons, range from blandly inoffensive to flat-out annoying. In all fairness, it's really only the rebellious teenage son Josh that annoys, but geez, what a grating character, made worse by his equally grating teenage posse. The cop husband, doctor wife, teenage daughter and five-year-old daughter fall more on the bland, "who gives a shit?" end of the spectrum, but they're all the main characters, so it's a pretty big problem.

Thankfully, Stephen Lang (or, as most viewers will refer to him as until they learn his character's name, "Avatar Guy") lends gravitas and badassery as the leader of Terra Nova. His presence is the only thing holding the show back from acting apocalypse, but is also problematic in that it'll make most viewers wish he was the main character.

At somewhere approaching $20 million, Terra Nova's 86-minute pilot is one of the most expensive produced in the history of television (future episodes are going to clock in at around $4 million apiece), and it shows in impressive sets, vistas, vehicles, and a nice grungy look in the 22nd century scenes leading off the episode. But $20 million, while huge for TV, would still be considered microbudget for an action sci-fi film of the same length, and the dinosaurs, while infinitely better than any CGI creatures you'd see on TV a decade ago, just aren't quite there yet.

There are many CGI elements that can be done justice with TV money. Spaceships, for one: I never questioned any of what I saw on Battlestar Galactica or Firefly, the latter of which is getting on a decade old. Castles and other giant structures, as seen on Game of Thrones. Robots, vehicles, distant shots of CGI cities. Basically anything that isn't supposed to be an organic, living thing can be pulled off on TV given restraint and talented artistry.

But making things that are supposed to be flesh and blood truly look like they're sharing the frame with the actors (especially in lengthy shots in broad daylight, as this show attempts) is a million times harder. Even big budget feature films like I Am Legend screw it up. And the dinosaurs on Terra Nova, while good for TV, never quite break free from looking like refugees from a CGI animated film hanging out in live action ala Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

I'm interested in what Terra Nova is attempting to do, and I could see the show getting pretty good if they enrich the mythology, have a well-structured season arc, make the action scenes more visceral and less cartoony, and have three or four of the Shannons die in a tragic dinosaur attack. (Sadly, at least one of those things has little chance of happening.) But whether the show pulls a Spartacus (gets better and better with each episode) or a The Event (spins perilously and quickly off the rails), this pilot, while not a failure, won't be remembered as a great one.

Will I watch again? There's nothing else quite like it on TV right now, so yes. I just hope I don't live to regret it.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Prime Suspect

The show: Prime Suspect, Thursdays on NBC

The premise in ten words or less? Lady cop.

Any good? Like with CBS's new cop procedural Unforgettable, I don't have overwhelmingly much to say about Prime Suspect, but unlike with Unforgettable, that doesn't necessarily mean I hated it. In fact, I wouldn't even say I disliked it! As far as cop procedurals go it's a reasonably competent pilot with just a little bit more grit and reality to its world than, say, Blue Bloods or Hawaii Five-0, directed by Peter Berg of Friday Night Lights awesomeness and anchored by a strong central performance.

That performance is Maria Bello, taking her first regular TV gig since the 90s as NYPD Detective Jane Timoney. Now, granted, Bello's done her share of crap, but by and large she's a solid film performer who brings a believable edge that allows you to quickly invest in Timoney even before meeting her father and seeing her hostile work environment. The supporting cast has a number of "that guy" actors like Kirk Acevedo, Brían F. O'Byrne and Joe Nieves whose names may not ring a bell but whose faces will spark recognition in any TV junkie, and they all do generally good work.

It's the script I can't muster much enthusiasm for, for roughly the same reasons I can't for most cop procedurals. The characterization isn't bad and the dialogue doesn't all sound like TV patter, but it's the same crime scene - police station - investigation - questionings - big clue - final action scene arc as every fucking cop show episode ever, and I have zero give-a-shit about that story structure anymore. I've seen it. I've seen it literally hundreds of times, and if I watched more cop shows it'd be literally thousands of times. The filmmaking and acting mine it for all it's worth, but I worry there's not much there there.

Will I watch again? Taken on its own, the pilot isn't a bad little 42-minute cop movie, but it also fails to introduce any kind of major case or serialized story that will be continuing in weeks to come. I can get into cop / crime shows – in the last year I've liked The Chicago Code and absolutely loved Terriers – but for that to happen, there has to be a big hook, at least one major story that kicks off and concludes the season and is woven in and out of more stand-alone episodes throughout its duration. I have no interest in rigidly episodic procedurals (i.e. the majority of cop, doctor, and lawyer shows on TV). So, yes, I'll watch one more Prime Suspect on the strength of Bello and a decently solid pilot. But if that big hook isn't there, I'm out.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Whitney

The show: Whitney, Thursdays on NBC

The premise in ten words or less? Whitney has a boyfriend and some friends.

Any good? Whitney is a towering, monumental obelisk of unfunniness; a show that's existence can only be explained by it either being a refugee from Funniness Opposite Land, a land where the unfunny is funny and vice versa (in this land, it's the best show), or perhaps a scientific experiment by NBC to see how much unfunniness can physically be packed into one episode of television. If it's the latter I'd like to congratulate them, because somehow, against all odds and logic, they've managed to produce perhaps the first half hour of TV "comedy" I've seen since Hank that fails to improve on staring at an off television for the same length of time.

Whitney Cummings the comedienne plays Whitney Cummings the photographer, who speaks in a way strangely reminiscent of a comedienne throwing out stand-up observations vaguely reworked into awkward, unnatural dialogue that makes you feel a little bit ill just listening to it (it's okay though, because the five seconds of braying laugh track every other line let you know how funny it actually is). You just won't believe how wacky Whitney is! There's this one scene near the end where she wears a naughty nurse outfit. A naughty nurse! LOL, where do they come up with this stuff! I'm glad that the naughty nurse scene goes on and on and on, or we might not notice how funny it is.

Whitney has a boyfriend, Alex – played by Chris D'Elia like NBC took him aside and threatened to withhold pay unless Alex was the least charismatic, least funny, least distinctive black hole of a sitcom co-lead on any network – and some generic sitcom friends. One of them is so funny because she just says whatever's on her mind, even if it's a little bit crude! At one part she uses the word "balls," as in the slang for testicles! Oh, the uproarity! Another friend is a food critic. We know this because in one scene she's dressing provocatively and Whitney scolds her, "You're a food critic, not a Kardashian!" Oh my god, that is so funny! Do you see how they got exposition and a pop culture reference out of the way in one line? Brilliant! The laugh track thinks so too! A joke that will be studied for decades to come, I'm sure of it.

In all seriousness, there is a moment at the end of the first act where, for a brief second, the show almost stumbles upon comedy, when Whitney mistakenly eats the cake (or cupcakes, for some weird reason) at a wedding reception before the bride and groom. Now, the awkwardness resulting from this could have been funny, except that as soon as Whitney realizes, we don't even see anyone stare or get upset, we just get one quick, unfunny quip and cut immediately to the next scene, thereby skipping the part that might have actually worked comedically. Because, you see, the people making Whitney don't understand what funny is, and couldn't find a joke if it was dangled in front of them on a stick.

Whitney is a perfect storm of shit, from its empty non-premise to its flat performances to its poor, hammy characterization to its awkward, amazingly unfunny dialogue to its complete lack of originality or ambition to its laugh track laughing, laughing, always laughing, mocking everyone with a modicum of taste who might be watching. It's assertively and confidently the worst new scripted television show of 2011, and should make everyone who wanted Outsourced and / or Perfect Couples off NBC's comedy lineup realize the horrible truth in that adage about the grass on the other side.

Will I watch again? The question is less "Will I watch Whitney again?" than "How many gallons of liquid pigshit would have to be forced down my throat before I'd agree to watch Whitney again?"

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Revenge

The show: Revenge, Wednesdays on ABC

The premise in ten words or less? Woman plots revenge against the people who framed her father.

Any good? Revenge has absolutely no legitimate artistic merit of any kind, but I will say that it achieves a delirious "so bad it's good" trashiness that arguably exceeds any other prime time soap of recent years. This is the lurid garbage Ringer wishes it could be; part wealth fantasy, part pulpy revenge thriller, and populated by the prettiest of mannequins. This show is pure fucking cheese, and not some tepid Cheddar cheese; I'm talking the smelly French stuff. I laughed harder, louder, and more frequently at this pilot than I did at any of this month's new sitcoms.

The show is an incredibly loose adaptation of The Count of Monte Cristo centering on Amanda Clarke, who was torn away from her beloved father at a young age when some rich Hamptonites framed him for funding terrorism (like, honest-to-god, blowing shit up, Al-Qaeda terrorism). He died in prison, convicted of treason, but unbeknownst to Amanda he had invested in a computer startup years earlier, and upon Amanda's eighteenth birthday she receives both word of her father's innocence and a 49% share in the now multi-billion dollar computer conglomerate. So Amanda changes her name to Emily Thorne and returns to the Hamptons, rich and enraged, to engineer the social, political, and / or financial downfall of the people who set her father up, one at a time.

Although the show seems to have a revenge-of-the-week structure (the pilot involves Emily exposing the affair of a woman who testified against her father and having her exiled from the Hamptons), there is a big bad in the form of Madeleine Stowe's Victoria Grayson, whom the pilot refers to multiple times as "Queen of the Hamptons." It remains to be seen whether Victoria's ultimate downfall will take place at the end of the season or the end of the series, but Stowe's presence is a relief, with her giving the show's only performance that isn't glassy-eyed, frigid, and lifeless.

A huge aspect of the show is the wealth fantasy – oh hey, look at Emily buying an expensive house on a whim, look at Emily buying a ticket to a $10,000-a-plate fundraiser like it was a candy bar, look at Emily's expensive clothes, etc., etc. – which I generally despise, but I'd say it's a bit less obnoxious here than on Entourage. The idle millionaire lifestyle is portrayed mostly as something decadent and villainous, a mask Emily has to wear out of necessity, as opposed to Entourage or Sex and the City where it's like "oh man, isn't being a rich piece of shit awesome?"

Really, the worst moments of the pilot are whenever it tries to achieve any sort of emotional poignancy – the flashbacks with young Amanda and her father, filled with dialogue like "I love you infinity times infinity," are so overwritten and agonizing – while moments where Emily does shit like dress up as a housekeeper and slip poison into Victoria's husband's soup achieve a zen-like stupidity nirvana that makes it all almost worthwhile. If you're going to be trash, be trash, don't playact at artistic ambition.

Will I watch again? Probably not on any weekly basis, but I could imagine myself one day skimming through it on Netflix Watch Instant if I hear the season maintains the same fever pitch goofy absurdism and has some sort of satisfying structure to it. The show premiered to a not-quite-mind-blowing but definitely rock-solid 10 million viewers, so I'm willing to bet there's a second season on the horizon as well.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Unforgettable

The show: Unforgettable, Tuesdays on CBS

The premise in ten words or less? Detective with photographic memory.

Any good? Unforgettable is easily the worst drama pilot I've sat through in the last two weeks – one of the worst I've seen all year – and, unlike Ringer, it doesn't even have the decency to be bad in an amusingly zany fashion. This is Generic Cop TV 101; soft-brained, zero-ambition pabulum ladled out from the CBS procedural assembly line with a sneer and a "fuck you America, here's the shit you like!"

The protagonist is Carrie Wells (played with resounding "I have successfully hit my marks and delivered my lines"-ness by Poppy Montgomery), a former detective with hyperthymesia, meaning that she can remember every moment of her life with photographic clarity, except, of course, the day her sister was murdered, the one case she can't solve. But the cops need her help on a murder, so she's back. The main cop is Al, played by Dylan Walsh, and in the very first scene – the very first scene! – between Carrie and Al they drill in with alarming assertiveness that will make you cry in the shower later that there's an EPIC ROMANCE on the horizon between the two. Because lord knows you've failed at making a pilot if you don't establish an EPIC ROMANCE on the horizon.

Carrie's memory skills are depicted by scenes where we cut between Poppy Montgomery thoughtfully furrowing her brow and then walking through her own memories in frozen time, looking around at things she may have seen with her peripheral vision. It's kind of stupid and absurd, but it's definitely better than the overwritten scene earlier in the episode where some old guy quizzes her about what happened on March 27th, 1998 and she rattles off a litany of facts. That was some seriously rancid shit.

This is shorter than my other reviews because there's really nothing to say. Outside of the visually and dramatically inert trips into memory land, absolutely every single aspect of this pilot is identical to every sloppy, lazy police procedural episode you've seen since time immemorial. Visit the crime scene, police station, flat "witty" banter, a couple red herrings, questioning witnesses and suspects, final predictable twist, half-assed action scene, rinse and repeat every week. It goes without saying it's going to be a monstrous hit, because it asks absolutely nothing of its viewers, even by CBS standards.

Will I watch again? Fuck no. Life's too short to spend watching episodic police procedurals even if they aren't this stupid and bland.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: The Playboy Club

The show: The Playboy Club, Mondays on NBC

The premise in ten words or less? Chicago's Playboy Club in the 1960s, and gratuitous murder.

Any good? I've never really been part of the cult of Mad Men. I mean, I like Mad Men. I've seen all 52 episodes of Mad Men. But there are lots of other TV shows I prefer to Mad Men – past and present, network and cable, comedy and drama – and I never fail to grimace at TV critics offhandedly stating that it's the greatest show on television, if not in the history of television, as if it were an objective fact. I roared with approval at Friday Night Lights thrashing it in acting and writing at the latest Emmys.

But whatever problems I may have with Mad Men, one thing it does have is restraint, and supreme confidence in the depth of its characters being sufficient to anchor compelling drama. Granted, the last network show I saw display similar confidence was Lone Star, which Fox took into a back alley and executed after two episodes, but even so, it throws The Playboy Club into sharp and bitter contrast. The Playboy Club features its first attempted rape right around four minutes in, followed one minute later by its first spurting-blood murder and a few minutes after that by body-hiding shenanigans. That right there is not showing restraint.

I compare the shows because, however much the producers of The Playboy Club like to pretend differently, their show would not exist without Mad Men. It's trying hard to tap into the same 60s chic – smoking, drinking, retro clothes, retro cars, social regressivism and all – and the main male character, Nick Dalton, is modeled after Don Draper to a laughable, almost sad degree. One of the show's leads, Naturi Naughton, was even on Mad Men, playing a Playboy Bunny in both shows. But, in trying to do Mad Men except with murder and the mob and prettier, younger actresses, The Playboy Club shows a grave misunderstanding of what made that show tic in the first place.

And it's a shame, because, unlike the Parents Television Council (more on this in a second), I actually wanted to like this show. Mad Men ripoff or no, I was rooting for it to succeed if only for having the balls to try something off the beaten path for network TV, with nary a cop or doctor to be found.

And it does do a number of things right. A lot of money was injected into the project and they chose their director well (Alan Taylor of Rome, Boardwalk Empire, Game of Thrones and, would you look at that, Mad Men fame) and the results are all on the screen. It looks like a million bucks; easily the most sumptuously designed, visually pleasing pilot I've seen so far this season. The cast includes Amber Heard and David Krumholtz and Firefly's Sean Maher, and some of the actors I'm less familiar with like Laura Benanti as the Bunny house mother also do good work. The characters are all pretty well-defined in the available 42-minute window and some potentially engaging interpersonal conflicts are introduced. But that murder is just such a silly and juvenile way to kick things off, and it's hard to get past that.

The other huge problem is Eddie Cibrian as the previously mentioned Nick Dalton, who is, I guess (going by the billing order), supposed to be the main character. Outside of his cringe-inducing wannabe resemblance to Don Draper, he has this agonizingly disconnected story going on about being a lawyer and trying to clean up the mob, and it's just so not what I was interested in going into the show. Shouldn't the idea be to follow the Bunnies, especially with minor movie star Amber Heard as our viewpoint into that unique sorority? I mean, who the fuck wants to follow some slicked-hair lawyer who happens to hang out at the Playboy Club a lot and sleep with one of the Bunnies? One episode in and he's already my least favorite protagonist on television. What an utterly bizarre miscalculation.

I feel I should mention that, having now actually watched the show, the Parents Television Council hysteria preceding its debut (including the show being briefly banned in Utah) is more hilarious than ever. With acknowledgement that pornography exists and women walking around in the equivalent of one-piece bathing suits being the extent of the show's "adult" material, this is basically the least racy version of a Playboy show you could possibly imagine. 2 Broke Girls is more salacious.

Will I watch again? That such an ambitious, pricey, heavily-hyped drama premiered to 5.02 million viewers all but assures The Playboy Club's fate as one of this season's first freshman casualties (I'd be surprised to see it complete its 13-episode season run, but, this being ratings-starved NBC, it's not impossible), so I'll probably keep watching out of sheer curiosity, since I'm not likely to be watching long.

NBC Sitcom Roundup for 9/22/11

The Office, Season 8 Episode 1 — "The List"

It occurred to me while watching The Office's eighth season premiere, "The List," that the show has gradually evolved into more or less the complete opposite of what it was initially conceived as. Once upon a time, The Office was a bittersweet-to-brazenly-depressing portrait of being trapped in a joyless, dead end job with mostly annoying coworkers that thrived on tension and awkwardness. Moments so uncomfortable that your stomach started to knot and you had to fight the urge to look away from the screen were not an anomaly but the show's bread and butter.

Now, as we enter fall 2011 and the show's eighth season, The Office is a comforting 22 minutes spent among dear friends; a televised glass of warm milk. Moments of awkwardness are far more likely to be diffused with punchlines and cartoonish characters than allowed to let sit and fester, and episodes are routinely punctuated with heartwarming moments to make you coo "aww!" This was especially clear in this episode's ending sequence wherein new manager Andy goes to defend Dunder Mifflin's second tier employees to new CEO Robert California one by one, intercut with beaming faces all around the office and capped off with the millionth "Jim and Pam are cute and have a cute baby" moment of the last year.

But although the bite is almost entirely gone and the days of me counting down the hours until the next episode are long over, I still enjoy the show. The characters are so familiar and so well-defined and the cast so large that plenty of organic comedy can come naturally from even their most mundane interactions, which the show relies on much more at this point than particularly clever or original storytelling. As such, "The List" was an amusing and breezy if fundamentally unremarkable episode of television.

I'm still on the fence when it comes to the new bosses. Andy's somewhat awkward yet well-meaning characterization in this episode was too much like Michael Scott, so let's hope they can differentiate him a bit in weeks to come. I trust Ed Helms has the chops to play something a little more interesting.

New CEO Robert California, while still one-note, seems like a potentially interesting addition, bringing a certain menace (without being a villain) and a very different vibe than Michael. It was pretty clear that he was the best choice of the new characters in last season's finale, anyway, with James Spader being the only one to successfully craft any character at all from what he was given. I was a bit disappointed that the solution to the mystery of his list turned out to simply be winners and losers rather than something more abstract or him just playing mind games, but that's just a one-episode fault. Plenty of room to grow.

Finally, I'll just get this out of the way right now: Yes, there is undeniably a Steve Carell-shaped hole in the show. There's tons of comic talent left on the roster, including several actors who have led or co-led their own wide release comedy feature films, but Michael Scott was the main character and his relationships with the various employees were, barring Jim and Pam's romance, the most important in the show. If The Office had ended gracefully with his departure, that would have been fine, but it didn't and here we are. I miss and will continue to miss Carell's presence, but I won't bother reiterating it after this week, because it'd be redundant and what'd be the point?

Funniest Moment: I guess I'd have to go with Jim's incredulity at Erin, the office receptionist, not having a pen. Not exactly an enormous belly laugh, but there isn't too much to choose from this week.

Parks and Recreation, Season 4 Episode 1 — "I'm Leslie Knope"

One thing I've really enjoyed about Parks and Recreation is the way that it introduces longterm goals for its characters and narrative – filling in the pit in season one and the first part of season two and the Harvest Festival in the first half of season three – and, unlike other sitcoms that do so, such as the mystery of the titular mother in How I Met Your Mother, actually pays off and concludes these stories. It's a sitcom that believes in maintaining a strong narrative skeleton, and Leslie running for office may be its smartest yet. It risks isolating her from the main cast, perhaps, but it also really lights a fire under her character, will make the story move, and provides easy access to the unilaterally hilarious talk shows and news shows of Pawnee.

And "I'm Leslie Knope" did a great job kicking off her campaign and the show's season. It's not on par with the best of the last two seasons, but it never lacked for laughs and it's great to have the show back. Leslie's Perd Hapley interview was typically hilarious, the penis subplot made better use of the perennially underused Ann than the show has made in quite some time (and contained the friendliest possible utterance of "If I could go back in time and cut your eyeballs out, I would."), and Leslie and Ben's forced breakup managed to be touching without dipping into the mawkish. Great stuff all around.

I especially loved Andy being promoted from shoeshinist to Tom's old position as Leslie's assistant, which could result in him being assistant to a city councilwoman if she wins the election. Andy may have the best character development of any current sitcom character and some of the best character development on television, period, with him gradually and believably evolving from a broke, jobless, homeless and friendless man living under a tarp at the bottom of a mud pit into now being a liked, trusted, and happily married worker at city hall as we enter season four. I hope to see that development continue with him actually taking an active role in the government. Leslie and Ben breaking up didn't bother me at all, but I'd be really upset if Andy and April ever broke up.

My only hesitations in regard to "I'm Leslie Knope" are that, one, they seem to be deemphasizing Jerry's sad-sackness, which would be a shame since that's one of my favorite aspects of the show, and two, they blew through April being acting manager of the Parks department for three weeks in about one scene, which is a story I would have loved to see play out at least a little bit longer, even if it meant less Ron Swanson. But still, good solid episode and a promising return for one of the best shows on television.

Funniest Moment: Probably Andy dumping the Pepto-Bismol all over Kyle's shoe. What can I say? I'm a man of simple pleasures. I also liked Andy offering to be Leslie's assistant without pay for no apparent reason before April hurriedly stopped him. Basically, anything Andy does is gold.

Community, Season 3 Episode 1 — "Biology 101"

As of the end of Friday Night Lights earlier this year, Community is now pretty solidly my favorite show on television. I love Game of Thrones. I love Breaking Bad. I love Parks and Recreation. I love Spartacus. But Community is the true shit, a show that is pretty much everything I could ever imagine wanting from a sitcom; a near-flawless marriage of dazzling creativity, boundless ambition, wonderful characters, fantastic performances, hysterical dialogue, and a deep and abiding love of pop culture and the sitcom form itself. It even trumps every other sitcom on the air in non-comedy matters such as score, cinematography, and set design, as if to twist the knife of its effortless superiority. If you prefer another current sitcom, don't feel bad. It doesn't make you a bad person. It just makes you wrong.

And "Biology 101," while perhaps a bit lighter on laughs than last season's "Anthropology 101," was a great kickoff to what looks to be another potentially amazing season. Outside of Arrested Development it may be the most setup-heavy sitcom season premiere I've ever seen, opting to lay pipe for future developments with Dr. Marshall King and Vice Dean Leybourne rather than telling complete stories with them the way "Anthropology 101" did with Betty White (and I'm willing to bet that Abed's newfound love of Inspector Spacetime comes up again too, if the Cougar Town arc of last year is any indication), but that's cool. (Cool cool cool.) I love longform serialized storytelling. I think that's the shit TV is made for, so once again, for the thousandth time, Community and I sync up perfectly.

I do think they may have blown a few episodes of potential story by letting Pierce back into the group so quickly, but I trust that Dan Harmon and co know what they're doing. When it comes to comedy, characters, and storytelling, anyway. Between the abstract opening musical number, Abed's subplot relying on knowledge of Cougar Town, Doctor Who, and British sitcom conventions, multiple open-ended storylines, a protracted 2001: A Space Odyssey parody, Chang throwing a ham for no reason, and a plethora of references to various running jokes and subplots spanning the length of the series, I think it's safe to say they have absolutely no idea what they're doing when it comes to attracting new viewers. I can hardly imagine a sitcom episode more violently repulsive to your average Two and Half Men lover briefly clicking in to see what the deal is with this Community he's heard so much about, but that's totally cool. Harmon is now fully making Community for people who like things that are good, which is so rare and amazing on television.

Funniest Moment: While I absolutely loved the 2001 and end of Cougarton Abbey sequences ("You are the opposite of Batman."), the single exchange that made me laugh the hardest was right at the beginning of the episode, between Shirley and Star-Burns:

Shirley: "Oh, Star-Burns, I see you added a lizard to your special hat and sideburns. Am I missing anything?"

Star-Burns: "Yeah, the human being underneath it all. But no one's really interested in that, are they?!"

Shirley: "Noooo."

Weekly Power Rankings: 1. Community 2. Parks and Recreation 3. The Office

Pilot Inspektor Tim: 2 Broke Girls

The show: 2 Broke Girls, Mondays on CBS

The premise in ten words or less? Snarky waitress and former rich girl work together, become friends.

Any good? I've said before and, on account of there being several more to premiere over the next few weeks, I know I'll say again that I am openly and unapologetically prejudiced against multi-cam laugh track sitcoms. (If you love the format and are offended by my stance, feel free to think of me as being racist against them.) I don't like the braying laughter or the actors having to pause for said laughter every other line, I don't like the broad humor and performances the format encourages, I don't like the sedate editing style and small number of sets and scenes, I don't like how the majority of shows in the genre are light on continuity and story arcs; I just plain don't like it.

I don't want to take the format away from anyone who does enjoy it (okay, okay, I do want to take Two and a Half Men away), but I can't pretend that's not where I stand. If that makes my opinion on 2 Broke Girls irrelevant to you, feel free to skip this post. I won't take offense.

So anyway, no, I did not like 2 Broke Girls. I found it to be profoundly unimaginative generic sitcommy fluff. Much of the overwritten, dripping-with-"attitude" dialogue they shoved into Kat Dennings' mouth (especially a scene where she tells off a table of not-that-rude customers about a minute in) made me physically cringe. Basically all the supporting characters outside of the two leads are actively awful, especially the profoundly racially troubling Asian caricature restaurant owner, who makes Sixteen Candles' Long Duk Dong look progressive. And, for a show called 2 Broke Girls which follows struggling waitresses, Kat Dennings' New York City apartment is FUCKING HUGE!

But, to give whatever credit where it's due, I'd still take the show in a second over last fall's $#*! My Dad Says, Better With You, or Mike & Molly. Between the perennially hip Kat Dennings and jokes about orgasms, jizz, and vaginas, the show is obviously tailored with a slightly younger audience in mind, and in a purely mechanical sense they've done a good job. With its two strong archetypal leads, comfortingly familiar restaurant and (overly enormous) apartment sets, and broad, unchallenging humor, CBS has an expertly constructed warhorse on their hands here that will last and last and last.

It is kind of a shame though. I liked Kat Dennings in The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist (somewhat less so in Thor, but that's more the fault of the script than hers), and it's a shame that she couldn't have dedicated her undeniable charisma to a better show on a better network.

Will I watch again? Nope. But the series premiered to 19.37 million viewers, meaning that CBS can safely begin planning their fall 2016 schedule with the sixth season premiere of 2 Broke Girls in mind, so fuck me and my worthless opinion in the ass repeatedly.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: The Secret Circle

The show: The Secret Circle, Thursdays on The CW

The premise in ten words or less? Teenage girl discovers she's a witch and joins a coven.

Any good? Well, first off, I should say that this show really, really isn't aimed at my demographic. It's a Twilight-flavored supernatural teen soap about a bunch of high school girls and a couple token chiseled-ab guys doing magic and making kissies in an extremely Dawson's Creek-esque fictional town called Chance Harbor. I can tell you without one glance at the ratings breakdown that the majority of people jonesing for episode two are either 13 or 14-year-old girls.

But if I try to empathize and look at it from their perspective, it's actually not too bad. The show's executive producers are Elizabeth Craft and Sarah Fain of Angel fame, so it's not like they don't know their way around a supernatural drama. Most of the actors are the same blandly pretty twentysomethings-playing-teens you expect from any CW show (with the most notable adult participant being Natasha Henstridge as the high school principal, and yes, it's weird that the girl who spent much of the 90s sci-fi flick Species walking around naked is now old enough to play the mother of a high school student), but Britt Robertson has a certain spunk as the protagonist Cassie.

The show opens with Cassie's mother dying in a house fire started by a mysterious evil wizard, then skips several months ahead as Cassie moves in with her grandmother in the waterfront town of Chance Harbor, Washington. It's only about one commercial break in that Cassie gets dragged to an abandoned house in the woods by five of her peers and told that she's the progeny of a line of great witches and must join them for, well, fun, I guess (though the same evil wizard who killed Cassie's mom is seen to live in town, so there's obviously a collision brewing there). It's all very "yer a wizard, Cassie!"

Cassie proceeds to feud with Faye, this popular mean girl witch who's all about power, and get all flirty and almost make out with Adam, a hunky teenage wizard and boyfriend of Diana, head of the coven, which is exactly as generic teen soap as it sounds. By the end of the first episode Cassie is powerful enough to stop a lightning storm via dramatic chanting in what's actually a decently cool scene.

Now, I wasn't overwhelmingly gripped by any of this, but it's not aimed at me, so who cares. The supernatural element affords plenty of wiggle room for the writers to tell just about any story they want so long as it can be explained via magic, and the show does appear to actually be shot in a harbor town, with boats and piers and boardwalks, making it look more alive than most network TV pilots. All in all, it's not the worst thing I've ever seen. Hands down better than the CW's other pilot Ringer.

Will I watch again? No, but at the same time, unlike, say, Twilight or The Secret Life of the American Teenager, I find little objectionable about the notion of the show's junior high girl demo getting into it. It's a perfectly competent supernatural teen drama. Who knows, Whedonverse alums do run the show; maybe it's building towards some sort of apocalyptic magical showdown for the fate of the planet ala season six of Buffy.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: New Girl

The show: New Girl, Tuesdays on Fox

The premise in ten words or less? Recently dumped girl (ZOOEY DESCHANEL!) moves in with three guys.

Any good? New Girl has its problems, which I'll tear into with zeal in just a second, but of the three new sitcoms I've watched so far this season – this one, Up All Night, and Free Agents – it's the best by a decent margin. It's the only one that actually made me laugh out loud using my lungs and voice box and everything at any point during its premiere. That may be the sitcom equivalent of praising a car for successfully getting you to the supermarket without breaking down, but hey, so many cars do break down in the comedy game.

The pixieish, doe-eyed elephant in the room is of course Zooey Deschanel, who, save for a few guest spots on Weeds, has been on big screen duty her entire career. Granted, her filmography includes The Happening and Yes Man, but it also includes (500) Days of Summer, Almost Famous, and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Hell, I'll even cop to liking Elf. Unless it's Alfred Molina debasing himself on Law & Order: LA, there's always a certain thrill to seeing a movie star step sideways into television (not step down, mind you, both because I'm not a snob and because at least half of the best stuff made in the last several years has been in TV), and that stands here. Zooey is charming, insanely charismatic, and fun to watch.

It's the writing that remains suspect. The script doesn't quite trust Zooey (whose character is named Jess Day, but who I can only think of as Zooey) to be funny and resemble a human being at the same time and severely overwrites her as this cartoon person who randomly bursts into song and whimpers and baby talks and loses her train of thought and misunderstands basic human interaction to an autistic degree. Zooey very nearly makes it work, but they still need to scale it back about 40% immediately.

Don't get me wrong: Jess can be goofy. She can be awkward. She can be silly. But she shouldn't be infantilized, because it borders on creepy. I saw Zooey Deschanel in a movie called Our Idiot Brother just a week ago where she was playing Paul Rudd's lesbian sister and she was perfectly funny and likable while remaining human. New Girl should try to tap a little more into that and a little less into whatever they made her do in the pilot.

The pilot opens with Zooey moving in with three strangers after her boyfriend dumps her for another woman, and while I wouldn't exactly say that any of these three characters grabbed me, I did like them better than any of the coworkers in Free Agents. They're characterized in pretty broad strokes – one is pervy and douchey, one a recently dumped sad sack, one a personal fitness trainer who doesn't understand women – but it's a sitcom, so hey, that's fine.

The less fine thing is that the funniest of the three guys by far, the personal trainer, is played by Damon Wayans Jr., who wound up committed to Happy Endings on ABC when it got renewed and had to drop out of New Girl. Rather than recast and reshoot the pilot with a new actor, they created a whole new character who will arrive in the second episode, which is kind of annoying and probably a bad choice. I mean, they reshot the $8 million Game of Thrones pilot after a batch of recasting; you're telling me they couldn't reshoot this? Whatever.

But on the plus side, at no point in the pilot is it hamfistedly hinted that there's an epic romance on the horizon between Zooey and any of her new roommates, an absence I can't put my thumb high enough in the sky in approval of.

Will I watch again? If the show was just about the three guys I'd be long gone (especially without Damon Wayans Jr.). But Zooey is exceedingly likable and will only become more so if they scale the violent quirkiness of her character down to tolerable levels. I'll take a look at the second episode. If the show ever reaches a point where I look at Jess Day and think "Jess Day" rather than "Zooey Deschanel," then it will have succeeded beyond my wildest dreams.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Free Agents

The show: Free Agents, Wednesdays on NBC

The premise in ten words or less? Two coworkers deal with the aftermath of sleeping together.

Any good? On paper? Hell yeah! Free Agents was adapted for American TV from a British show of the same name by John Enbom, co-creator and head writer of Party Down, one of the greatest sitcoms of all time. It stars Kathryn Hahn, who I've loved ever since I saw her in Step Brothers, as well as Buffy alum Anthony Stewart Head and frequent David Wain collaborator Joe Lo Truglio. It seems like it should be funny as hell.

But in practice? I sat stony-faced through almost the entire pilot.

The show is a workplace sitcom (that also occasionally follows its characters home) set in a PR firm with a perverted boss (Head) and a bunch of nosy and / or generically wacky coworkers backing up its two leads. Kathryn Hahn is Helen, still recovering from the death of her fiance a year ago (to the show's credit, it plays this more darkly comic than tragic), while Hank Azaria is Alex, still stung from his recent divorce. The show opens with the two having a one-night stand and then follows them into work the next day for the awkward aftermath, but hints that true romance may await in their future.

And there's the biggest problem – Azaria and Hahn really, really don't have romantic chemistry. I like that the show attempts to give them fast-paced dialogue to ping-pong back and forth, but by the end of the pilot I gave less of a shit whether these two characters ever end up together than who the current cricket world champion is. Azaria gave voice to a number of classic characters on The Simpsons (Moe, Wiggum, Apu, Chalmers, Carl, Comic Book Guy, etc.), but the clingy, weepy, emotionally damaged middle-aged divorcée he plays here is such an unappealing sitcom lead. I mean, I'm all for sitcom characters being broken people. They just need to be funny broken people.

Speaking of, the one character who actually made me laugh a couple times in this pilot was one of the coworkers played by Al Madrigal, an actor I've never seen before, who keeps desperately trying and failing to insert himself into his coworkers' social plans. This wasn't a character who even began to hint at the brilliance of the Party Down ensemble, but hey, it's something. Maybe John Enbom can make a couple more characters actually funny moving forward.

Will I watch again? If I was basing this purely on laugh count, no, but the guiding hand of Enbom and the presence of Kathryn Hahn, Anthony Stewart Head, and Joe Lo Truglio make it so difficult for me to imagine that this show has nothing to offer. Then again, Running Wilde was created by Mitch Hurwitz and starred Will Arnett and David Cross and had a narrator, and that sure as fuck didn't make it Arrested Development. I'll give Free Agents one more shot. If I laugh a few times, maybe I can brush the pilot off as growing pains. If not, well, there's still a million more sitcoms premiering in the next couple weeks.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Up All Night

The show: Up All Night, Wednesdays on NBC

The premise in ten words or less? New parents, the mom works as a talk show producer.

Any good? Comedy pilots are rough. That might sound like the prelude to a vicious takedown or a way to excuse a show I didn't laugh much at, but it's neither. It's just the reality of the situation. Arrested Development and Party Down had funny pilots, but Community, which has evolved into the best show currently on television (comedy or drama, network or cable) and one of the best works of comedy ever produced in any medium, had a pilot that failed to make me bellow with laughter at any point, as did Parks and Recreation. So much of enjoying a sitcom lies in getting attuned to its pulse, absorbing the rhythm and quirks of its characters, and letting the writers get comfortable enough to experiment and surprise you, and for any showrunner to accomplish that in 22 minutes is a Herculean feat.

So no, at no point during Up All Night, in which Will Arnett and Christina Applegate play new parents, did I tilt my head back and let out a satisfying roar from the gut. I did chuckle a number of times, if nothing else thanks to the comedic application of bleeped out swears, something that has continually made me laugh ever since Arrested Development. But speaking of that hallowed show, one relieving way that Up All Night actually differs from it is that, unlike in Running Wilde and most of the other comedies he's appeared in over the last decade, Will Arnett is NOT playing Gob Bluth here. He's a new, mellowed out man who actually bears resemblance to a human person, which is at this point a novelty.

Now, there's no lack of generic "baby pooped," "baby won't stop crying" and "baby won't sleep" jokes here, which don't really impress outside of the actors giving it their all, but the bigger problem is Christina Applegate's job. This is that rare sitcom that seems to equally follow the home and work lives of its hero, and (at least in the pilot) the two halves don't quite mesh. Maya Rudolph showed that she's got comic chops in Bridesmaids, but as Christina Applegate's wacky boss and host of the talk show they work at together she feels overly broad and hammy thus far.

Still, the show has room to grow and they've done a good job casting it with talented comic actors. In Arrested Development Will Arnett made me laugh as hard as I've ever laughed at any film or TV show in my life, so I figure he deserves a shot.

Will I watch again? I'll give it at least a few more episodes to see if it can iron out the kinks with Christina Applegate's job and kick up the laugh quotient a bit. But all the generic baby humor caused me to violently eject Raising Hope from my viewing schedule after a few episodes last fall, and this show certainly threatens to tread the same path. Fingers crossed.

Pilot Inspektor Tim: Ringer

(Rather than grouping multiple pilots into each update as I did when I discussed last year's new shows, I've decided to do this season a little more like my movie reviews, with one show per post. Some of the write-ups might be on the short side if I don't have much to say, but still, I figure this way streamlines things a bit.)

The show: Ringer, Tuesdays on The CW

The premise in ten words or less? Woman on the run assumes her wealthy identical twin's life.

Any good? I've said before that the way I differentiate a soap opera from its broader umbrella genre of serialized drama is that a soap opera has no thematic ambitions beyond simply following the lives of its characters. Ergo, The Wire is not a soap opera because it explores the downfall of the American city; Friday Night Lights is not a soap opera because it's about the culture of small town America; Breaking Bad is not a soap opera because it examines the drug trade; or even, to use a less haughty example, 24 is not a soap opera because it's about fighting terrorism. (Lost, however, is a soap opera. Sorry Lost fans.)

I say this so that when I call Ringer a soap opera no one mistakes me for using the the term as a lazy epithet. The show truly is a soap opera through and through, unless you believe that being a poor stripper chased down by a mob boss because you witnessed a crime and taking over your rich identical twin sister's life as a means of hiding in plain sight after she mysteriously disappears on a boat is a thematic mission statement that will make many viewers nod and go "Mm, yes, I've read much on this topic."

So, operating under the assumption that the character of Bridget (the poor twin and protagonist) is the only real thing we're supposed to care about here, does the show work? Not really. The notion of how dizzying and how difficult it would be to navigate another person's life if everyone thought you were that person is a potentially fascinating one, but the show skates right over it, with Bridget falling into the groove of hanging out with her estranged sister Siobhan (I shit you not: Siobhan)'s husband and best friend and living her posh lifestyle instantaneously. It never goes into the literally hundreds of blind spots Bridget would have, from not knowing the names of mutual friends to the addresses of Siobhan's regular destinations or familial stories or anything. The conflict continues to stem mostly from Bridget's laughable run from the mob and the cops, and it's just not very interesting at all.

I know a lot of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fans were looking forward to this series solely for the magic of having Sarah Michelle Gellar back on TV after eight long years, but make no mistake: this is not a Joss Whedon show. Ringer and Buffy have nothing in common. Gellar gets very little chance to show the pep or personality she did as Buffy Summers, instead being forced into playing blandly polite as Bridget and blandly snooty as Siobhan. It's still hard not to like her – she's one of the more charismatic TV stars there is – but the script offers her little to chew on. Nestor Carbonell plays the FBI agent searching for Bridget, and as many problems as I had with Lost by the end of its run, Carbonell's performance as Richard Alpert was never one of them, so that's cool. The rest of the cast is serviceable and forgettable.

I understand if you want a little more Sarah Michelle Gellar in your life, but you'd be better off just busting out the Buffy DVDs and rewatching those. Or hell, even Cruel Intentions. Honestly, if forced to watch a poor-girl-on-the-run-masquerades-as-her-rich-identical-twin show I think I'd rather watch ABC Family's The Lying Game, and The Lying Game is pretty damn bad, so that's saying something.

Will I watch again? I may give the second episode a look on the off chance that it shakes off the freshman jitters and stops feeling like a slightly better-lit soap opera, but the soapiness is built into Ringer's DNA, so I'm willing to bet that will be the end of my journey with the program. So much of the premise revolves around who is going to find out Bridget's secret, when, and how they'll respond, and I can't even fathom how such a story could sustain itself into a second, let alone a sixth or seventh season. The pilot's audience of 2.84 million makes me strongly suspect that question will never be answered, either.

NBC Sitcom Roundup for 5/12/11

The Office, Season 7 Episode 24 — "Dwight K. Schrute, (Acting) Manager"

Now that the great Will Ferrell experiment is behind us, we can start getting a more clear picture of what the post-Michael days of Dunder Mifflin are going to look like. And based off this episode, they may actually hold some promise! No one's going to pretend that the Carell-sized hole is a small one, but it shouldn't obscure over a dozen talented and funny stars left behind, several of whom have led big screen movies of their own (even if a few of said movies were spectacular bombs). This won't go down as one of the series' classic episodes by any stretch, but it was funny and completely worth its weight in network time, which, Michael or no, still places The Office well within the 95th percentile of television.

Except for a couple of Erin / Andy / Gabe scenes (which we'll come back to in a minute), this episode was sharply focused on Dwight's stewardship of the office — understandably, since it seems that they've crammed the entirety of that subplot into these 22 minutes. And, despite Dwight's dictatorial and weaponry-heavy managerial style being pretty predictable, it was fun to watch. It gave Jim a good chance to screw with Dwight without seeming like a bully, and everyone holding Dwight's gun mishap over his head with Jo at the end added some very funny tension.

As for Andy and Erin, I stand by what I've been saying for over a year now: love both actors. Ed Helms, great. Ellie Kemper, amazing. But I have zero emotional investment in their romance. If they never get together my heart shan't ache, and the show just isn't going to change that. However, I still laughed at how grossed out and anxious to leave Andy was when Gabe cornered him in the conference room, and Gabe trying to swallow his tears as he left.

Funniest Moment: I'm torn too close to call between Kevin's reaction to the piranha in the toilet and the scene where he forces Dwight to give him a disquietingly intimate deep tissue massage in the middle of the office. "Knead it like a pizza! But don't eat it!"

Parks and Recreation, Season 3 Episode 13 — "The Fight"

Ann Perkins is this season's Mark Brendanawicz. I hate to say it, since I think Rashida Jones is as cool and likable as just about any actress out there right now, but it's clearer by the episode how little of a place Ann has in this ensemble outside of being a straight woman for Leslie to bounce dialogue off of. So this episode suffered a bit on account of its Ann A-plot, even if there were good jokes spread throughout it. I mean, we got the return of The Douche, so that's something. We'll see if Ann's hiring at the city government can allow them to integrate her less awkwardly moving forward.

Everything going on under the main plot, however, was unambiguously great: Andy and April again assuming their alter egos of FBI agent Burt Macklin and wealthy widow Janet Snakehole (I'm reminded of Phoebe's alter ego Regina Phalange on Friends); Jean Ralphio's various botched attempts at rapping; Tom's new booze at the Snakehole; and of course anything and everything with Adam Scott, because Adam Scott is the greatest. One of the things that makes Parks so damn good is that anyone in the ensemble except Ann can hold down the fort comedy-wise all on their own if need be. 30 Rock would do well to take some inspiration from it in that regard.

Funniest Moment: If I'm being 100% honest, my biggest laugh was Andy puking on Kyle. That may sound pretty lowest common denominator, but sometimes a perfectly timed physical grossout gag just hits the spot.

Parks and Recreation, Season 3 Episode 14 — "Road Trip"

And so we tackle the "will they or won't they?" story head-on, and if I do say so myself, really well. I'm still not feeling the erotic charge between Leslie and Ben that the show wants me to be feeling, but Amy Poehler and Adam Scott are so funny and likable that, eh, what the hell, right? I also like that they didn't save Leslie and Ben finally kissing for the season finale. Seems fair — the third-to-last episodes of TV seasons need love too. I'm more curious about the fallout than the kiss itself anyway.

There was a bit of a schism in the secondary subplots, however. Andy and April getting into a fight during Tom's fake game show and then making up was a perfect combination of funny and sweet that really showed Parks at its bright, optimistic best and actually overshadowed the main Leslie / Ben story for me. Gotta love those two crazy kids.

Ron Swanson becoming political mentor to a wayward grade school girl didn't work, though. There just wasn't any punchline to it except, "Hey, remember how Ron is a libertarian?", which I don't think anyone who watches this show forgot. Unless he's on a quest for all the bacon and eggs a diner has, Ron needs someone else in the main cast to bounce his crazy off of.

Funniest Moment: Andy holding up his sign for Tom's "favorite place to smush" question and reading "at the Neutral Milk Hotel" was fucking hysterical, largely due to Chris Pratt's brilliantly low-key delivery. I'm already preemptively angry at Pratt not being nominated for an Emmy.

Community, Season 2 Finale — "For a Few Paintballs More"

Across the internet, it seems people are eager to compare the collective whole of "A Fistful of Paintballs" and "For a Few Paintballs More" to last season's magnum opus "Modern Warfare." But I say, what's the point? Far more fun to compare Community to every other sitcom on television and see how incredibly short they all fall in comparison. Community is one of the greatest television shows of all time — sitcom or drama, broadcast or cable — and episodes this alive, ambitious, and creative show exactly why.

When I said last week that I found 30 Rock's season finale to be disappointingly sedate and anticlimactic, I didn't really offer a comparison point for what a sitcom season finale should be. Well, here it is. This is a season finale. I'd effortlessly call it one of the top five sitcom season finales ever made, and even that may be selling it short.

How did I love "For a Few Paintballs More"? Let me count the ways: I loved the villainous Dean of City College making his return. I loved how tons of Greendale supporting characters spanning two seasons got moments to shine (Star-burns, Leonard, Vicki, Garrett, Magnitude, even Quendra with a Q-U!). I loved the return of Troy's plumbing skills. I loved the scene of the Greendale survivors planning their battle strategy over a diorama of the school (no doubt applying the skills they picked up over the year in Anthro 101). I loved Annie and Han Solo's miniature romance. I loved how cinematic and beautifully-shot the whole episode was. And I loved what they did with Pierce at the end.

Who knows what the show's plans for Pierce are next year — he could become a teacher, start a rival study group, or simply rejoin Jeff and the gang a few episodes in — but I admire the show so much for not ignoring how villainous they were making Pierce for the sake of comedy and truly confronting the issue as the culmination of a season-spanning character arc. Longform character arcs not centered around romances aren't something sitcoms outside of Arrested Development do often, but I think Community may now be the gold standard for such a thing. Chevy Chase has never been asked to do emotion on the show, not even when Pierce's mother died, but he gave genuine weight to that final scene.

But let's not dwell too much on the heaviness of human emotion — just like "Modern Warfare," this two-part finale was notable for making its action movie parody more exciting and energetic than a pretty good fraction of actual theatrically-released action movies. Troy's team setting up and executing the library trap was great, but Britta and Shirley's final drive-by paintballing was spectacular. I also like that Jeff wasn't the last man standing this year.

I don't know whether or not Community will have the balls to try to pull off yet another paintball extravaganza in season three, but they already have all the kudos I have to offer for making a sequel to the greatest episode of their first season and actually having it measure up. I'm going to have a lot more to say about the sheer ambition and unrivaled genius of Community in my full season wrap-up, so I'll stop here with the final comment that this season finale lived up to everything I wanted it to be and hoped it could be.

Funniest Moment: "Pop? Pop what? Pop what? What is he trying to say?! Pop what, Magnitude?!!"

Weekly Power Rankings: 1. Community 2. Parks and Recreation "The Fight" 3. Parks and Recreation "Road Trip" 4. The Office

NBC Sitcom Roundup for 5/5/11

The Office, Season 7 Episode 23 — "The Inner Circle"

Okay, so I guess that's what an episode of The Office without Steve Carell looks like. It wasn't very good, was it? Not that I'm going into full panic mode just yet — if we're several episodes into season 8 and the show is still this shaky on its feet, then it's time to sound the alarm. But this episode was trying to work around the shit taco that is Deangelo Vickers and ultimately, even if season 8 blows, won't prove in any way representative of what is to come.

But Deangelo, man. I don't know what happened. I mean, I know that I feared Will Ferrell was going to be awkwardly shoehorned in, throw the energy of the show off, and be forced into doing Will Ferrell schtick, and he was. But he very specifically didn't do any of that in his first episode "Training Day," and somehow I feel doubly offended that the show tricked me into liking him before deciding that he'd be playing a completely new character in "Michael's Last Dundies" (shy stage fright man), and another in "Goodbye, Michael" (dumb screaming lunatic), and now another in "The Inner Circle" (juggling sexist, curiously completely over his stage fright). I've seen TV characters develop more consistent and coherent personalities within one scene.

And then getting rid of him by having a basketball hoop fall on him? There are no words, and not in a good way. That is some lazy fucking writing. I also don't have any words for new character Jordan Garfield, not as a criticism, but simply because she's 100% bland and vanilla right now. Let's hope they beef her up comedically over the next two episodes.

Funniest Moment: The laughs, big or small, were pretty thin on the ground. The only two moments that really connected were Kevin telling Deangelo "Oh, I think it's eighteen-hundo" and Jim's subsequent reaction, and Darryl letting out a shocked "DAMN!" when Jim brought up the allegations of sexism to Deangelo. Pam's young adult novel series was also funny, but more "cute" funny than "ha ha" funny.

Parks and Recreation, Season 3 Episode 12 — "Eagleton"

I'm neither the first nor the thousandth person to note that despite being born as a thematic and stylistic spin-off of The Office, Parks and Recreation has evolved into something much closer to a live action take on The Simpsons, with the mythology, rich cast of characters, and general joyous absurdity of Pawnee, Indiana being insanely reminiscent of Springfield. And with the introduction of hated neighboring city Eagleton mirroring The Simpsons' Shelbyville, the comparison deepens all the more.

The specifics of this episode were superb, as Parks and Rec tends to be. Leslie was great, Ben was great, Parker Posey fit right in as Lindsay Carlisle Shay, the revelation of Ron's birthday party at the end was both funny and really sweet, the sickeningly posh city hall and prison in Eagleton were hilarious, and Andy sent Tom flying with a bag of trash. But what I found most interesting was how the episode spoke to the other way that Parks has evolved from its pilot other than becoming much more Simpsons-y: the exponentially increasing competence of Leslie Knope.

At the start of the first season, Leslie was clearly being written as Michael Scott with a vagina. Her town hall meetings were horrifically mismanaged and she seemed dim and constantly in over her head and largely incompetent at her job. Then, throughout the second season, the writers gradually made the discovery that Leslie, while socially awkward, is actually a really great parks department deputy director. She knows Pawnee's history and government with textbook perfection, knows the right people in politics and how to grease the wheels and make shit happen, isn't afraid to take initiative and is perennially upbeat even in the face of disaster.

Now, in season three, we've seen her turn a crippling budget crisis into a robust surplus, singlehandedly put the city and parks department back on their feet, turn every adversity into a positive (such as the new softball field in this episode), had it dropped in "Soulmates" that she's a summa cum laude political science graduate, and now, in "Eagleton," we learn that she was actually offered plum spots in city governments throughout upper-class Indiana that she turned down out of loyalty to her hometown before the series began. Leslie Knope is not only good at her job, she's damn near the best, now less like Michael Scott and more like what a character from The West Wing would be if they were funny and employed in local city government rather than the White House.

There's no grand, unifying point to this train of thought except that Parks and Recreation is an exhilarating watch from the pilot through season 3 because it's an example of a show with an absolute willingness to evolve, think on its feet, and change course in really fundamental ways. It just feels so alive and so vibrant. I love it.

Funniest Moment: I'm dangerously close to going with Ben's reaction shots of disgust at the Eagleton town hall, aka my quickly-becoming-standard "I'm gay for Adam Scott" funniest moment pick, but it's hard to beat April holding up the scissors with murderous intent as Lindsay Carlisle Shay exits the Pawnee parks department. The garbage fight was also hilarious. Pure, broad slapstick, but hilarious nonetheless.

30 Rock, Season 5 Finale — "Respawn"

Was it just me or did this not feel like a season finale even a little bit? It was light on laughs, had little narrative ambition, and didn't really resolve or put a satisfying bow on anything. Talk about going out with a whimper rather than a bang, especially at the end of what's otherwise arguably the best 30 Rock season since the first two. It almost feels (though I know this isn't actually the case) like "100" was produced as the season finale and Tina Fey and co were then suddenly told they'd have to throw together two more on short notice.

Jack using Kenneth as a surrogate Avery was pretty clever and clearly the episode's highlight. Liz and Tracy on the other hand did nothing for me outside of a few moment-to-moment punchlines, and Jenna and Paul kill the funny and momentum same as they always have (and of course they made Jane Krakowski randomly burst into song for the billionth time, and as always, it was about as funny as 9/11. Just keep beating that horse, 30 Rock). Lastly, they had to go and cap off the season with an incredibly awkward and unfunny Lost gag with Kenneth that was both about a year late and made me appreciate just how skilled Community actually is when it comes to pop culture meta references.

I'm going to do more elaborate full season retrospectives for all of these shows in the week or two after their finales, so I'll wrap up "Respawn" here. But I leave you with one final nugget for thought: What the hell happened to Chloë Moretz's character Kaylie Hooper, who vowed to destroy Jack and take over Kabletown? That was clearly intended to be a recurring character (her one episode was all setup and no payoff), and now the season's gone, and nothing. What gives!

Funniest Moment: Lutz begging Liz not to look at him as he uses his adult diaper made me laugh. So did the judge going, "Gavel gavel gavel! I lost my gavel over the weekend." But I'm disappointed that's all I got for a season finale.

Community, Season 2 Episode 23 — "A Fistful of Paintballs"

I'm going to keep this brief, because this is only the first half of a two-part finale that was initially intended to air as an hourlong episode, so it seems odd to review it by itself. After "For a Few Paintballs More" I'll have much, much more to say. But what we got here was masterful and the millionth testament to how Community is playing on a field of ambition and creativity that no other sitcom on television dares tread. It's one of the greatest TV series of all time and I love it beyond words. I love how they used the Black Rider as a red herring antagonist, how they're bringing the Pierce situation to a head and especially how they made Annie the protagonist (at least of this half) rather than focusing on Jeff à la "Modern Warfare." Masterstroke. Brilliant. Loved it.

Funniest Moment: Like "Modern Warfare," this episode succeeded more on the basis of me having an enormous, shit-eating grin on my face the entire time than on punchlines. There were dozens of hilarious bits, but I was having such a good time already that they stood out less than usual. It's a tough call. Jeff's obsession with being better-looking than the Black Rider was pretty great, as was Troy's input on the size of Jeff's forehead.

Weekly Power Rankings: 1. Community 2. Parks and Recreation 3. 30 Rock 4. The Office

NBC Sitcom Roundup for 4/28/11

For fairly obvious reasons, I have more to say about The Office this week than anything else, so I'll keep my thoughts on 30 Rock, Parks, and Community on the brief side. Which isn't intended as disparagement of any of their episodes, all three of which I thought were pretty good.

The Office, Season 7 Episode 22 — "Goodbye, Michael"

This really is a series finale in a sense. I mean, The Office will go on for probably two or three more years and I'll keep watching until the end, but this iteration of the show is done. Steve Carell was one cast member in a huge ensemble, but he was unmistakably the core, the linchpin. Quite a few characters were primarily defined by their relationships with him and will have to carve out new roles on the show. The energy and the vibe of Dunder Mifflin is irreparably altered and will never be the same again. We're now in (remembering to count the British original) The Office 3.

But that's something to discuss over the next month and in the fall — for now, let's just focus on Steve Carell / Michael Scott's pretty great farewell episode. Absolutely no one can say that Carell phoned it in on account of being out the door. He nailed it, beautifully capturing the emotion of his long goodbye, sharing a nice scene with almost every character, and depicting every facet of Michael from his childlike vulnerability to his obliviousness to a surprising self-awareness, particularly in the talking head where he finally acknowledged, sputtering with laughter, how little respect Oscar has for him. Not that the Emmys are relevant, but maybe this episode can finally give Carell a shot at winning one, rescuing the Emmys from the embarrassment of letting one of the most iconic sitcom protagonists of all time go unrecognized.

I also loved how, in contrast to the overly schmaltzy "Seasons of Love" riff in the last episode, the bulk of this episode was quite subtle and understated. Michael not telling anyone it was his last day both made sense for the character (I think back to how hard he tried to avoid confrontation with Stanley in "Did I Stutter?" a few years back) and was a brilliant way to avoid the clichés of a farewell episode in favor of something that actually wound up being more emotional. Rather than oozing with forced TV tears, the vibe was a slightly disquieting mix of hope, warmth and inevitable sadness that will stick with me for much longer than any Rent parody ever could.

This was best encapsulated in Michael's final scene with Pam. In a way it seemed odd that the show treated Michael's relationship with Pam as his most important (I mean, he did fuck her mom), but when actually watching it I was surprised by how correct it felt. There's always been a level of sarcastic disconnect between Jim and Michael, Dwight is too goofy to have the final emotional farewell, Erin too new. Michael and Pam's relationship has, at its best, been rather sweet, such as when she quit to help him found the Michael Scott Paper Company and when he negotiated her her job at Dunder Mifflin back several episodes later. The final airport scene was near perfect, and having Michael Scott's final lines inaudible and related to us by Pam later a masterstroke.

I do have to say that I didn't buy how emotional Jim was getting in his final scene with Michael, which put a crack in the wonderfully understated vibe. Telling Michael he was a great boss and wishing him well with un-Jimlike sincerity, sure. Awesome. Tearing up? No. That just wouldn't happen. Jim has spent the entire series exasperated by and struggling to tolerate Michael, including in this very same episode when Michael gave Andy all of his top clients. But viewed in the light of doubling as John Krasinski's farewell to Steve Carell, I suppose it's excusable.

On the more indefensible downside (and I toyed with not even mentioning this subplot, but I guess I have to), Will Ferrell's character has in two episodes devolved from surprisingly likable to being every single thing I feared he would be and more. Acting wacky, going crazy, being stupid, shouting, the whole Will Ferrell nine. After "Training Day" I was hoping that Ferrell could actually stick around longer than was initially planned; now he can't be gone fast enough. Let's hope the barrage of guest stars in the season finale is less obtrusive, although I can't say I'm holding my breath.

Funniest Moment: "Goodbye, Michael" mostly went for poignancy as opposed to laughs when it came to Michael himself, but there were a lot of great moments surrounding him. Take your pick from Jim noting with a degree of real irritation that they've started filming people going to the bathroom now, Phyllis' relief that Michael didn't reveal her abandoned baby, and the introduction of the terrifying Rory Flenderson, implying that the specter of Toby will haunt Michael across time and space.

Parks and Recreation, Season 3 Episode 11 — "Jerry's Painting"

This was a pretty solid little episode. I mean, pointing out that Parks and Recreation is good is kind of like pointing out that water is wet at this point, but still. I will say that I actually preferred the B-plot to the main, titular story. I liked Leslie's protectiveness of the painting and especially Chris's feeble attempts at resolving things ("But I am not in the nude now, am I? Because we're in a government building, and that would be inappropriate."). The returns of Perd Hapley and the repellant Marcia Langman were welcome. But even if a somewhat high-ranking (by Pawnee standards) government employee not being able to find his own apartment makes no sense, I still preferred the story about Ben moving in with April and Andy. That's a three-way collision of awesome characters, and Adam Scott could make me laugh by reading the ingredients off a cereal box.

Funniest Moment: Leslie Knope and Brandi Maxxxx on Ya' Heard? with Perd was classic, but I still laughed harder at Ben's exasperation with Andy and April. Adam Scott deserves all the comedy Emmys for his delivery of the line, "No. Do you know what cute means?"

30 Rock, Season 5 Episode 22 — "Everything Sunny All the Time Always"

While inevitably not as strong as the previous week's fantastic series-spanning 30 Rock tribute "100" (probably my favorite episode of the season), this was a brisk, amusing 22 minutes solidly focused on the big three of Liz, Jack, and Tracy. Liz's subplot didn't amount to much (although I did love the "sometimes, we use a song to move a story along" montage), but Jack's and Tracy's were a bit more clever and out there. Anyone who's ever been stuck on the outside of an inside joke should admire Tracy's heroism. I also appreciate them introducing a seemingly ongoing storyline with Avery and Kim Jong-un, because that's something 30 Rock normally avoids, barring Tracy's disappearance. However, even for a politician, Condi Rice is a startlingly horrible actor.

Funniest Moment: Grizz's "You wouldn't expect a movie called Somewhere... to go absolutely nowhere," on account of it probably making no sense to the vast majority of the show's audience yet also being hilariously accurate. I mean, if your giant blockbuster movie gets burned on a sitcom, that's par for the course, but if your tiny indie movie gets burned, some writer must have really hated it.

Community, Season 2 Episode 22 — "Applied Anthropology and Culinary Arts"

The birth episode is among the most ancient and cliché of all TV traditions, but I still loved what Community did with it. For one, no hospital. In fact, it turned out to be a full-blown bottle episode (although without calling attention to it the way the classic "Cooperative Calligraphy" did), set entirely in the anthropology classroom. They didn't feel the need to make it double-length either, and still found plenty of room for non-Shirley subplots, such as Britta's angst over her hypocrisy, the Dean struggling to make a good impression, Pierce buying the rights to Troy and Abed's coolness move, and even a hint of romance between Vicki and Neil. It was consistently funny and incredibly fast-paced. No gimmicks, no movie spoofs, just traditional sitcom greatness. Yep, Community rules. (I should note that Shirley's baby being born healthy and not having to spend months in an NICU at this point makes absolutely no sense, but whatever. I mean, it's a wacky comedy. Just gotta accept it and move on.)

Funniest Moment: Obviously Pierce forcing Abed and Troy to mark his announcement of "Betty Grable" with their patented coolness-signifying chest slap / high five, because no actor on earth cries funnier than Donald Glover. But the close-up of Britta under Shirley's skirt was also rather grand.

Weekly Power Rankings: 1. Community 2. The Office 3. Parks and Recreation 4. 30 Rock