Summer TV Roundup

One of the pleasures of living in the cable and satellite age is summer TV. Now, it's true that the pleasure is often muted and ephemeral, but compared to my childhood (13 re-runs of some episodes of Bonanza and Gunsmoke; later replaced by 13 re-runs of ChIPS), today is a veritable paradise. Let's dive into the lukewarm pool of summer TV, shall we?

One caveat. I don't do reality series. I just don't, at least not since those bastards at Bravo broke my heart with Being Bobby Brown. So don't expect reality to show up here.

I've already soiled myself in my glee over the return of Dr. Who. BBC America has continued the flow of Brit sci-fi/fantasy with the second (it could be third; the way they count series over there confuses me) season of Hex. As a ground-floor fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I wanted to like this show when it premiered last summer, but it was a pile of unredeemed stink. It's improved a little, but not enough to recommend it. The mishmash of poor continuity, characters who do a one-eighty every other episode, and halfhearted performances just doesn't add up to watchable, let alone compelling, TV. Who'd a thunk it?

Since I mentioned Dr. Who, let's look at Eureka, the SciFi Channel's original summer series. I like this modest little tale of a town full of eccentric scientific geniuses (genii? I wish. I like that better). What appeals to me are the performances by actors like Joe Morton, Sally Richardson, and especially Colin Ferguson. Hey, any show that offers Matt Frewer a chance to act crazy every couple of weeks is okay. The writing is breezy in that "let's not dwell on this too long or the whole house of cards might collapse" way, and the "scientific" problems and complications are the best kind of frothy sci-fi lite. Battlestar Galactica? Hell to the naw (I weep for Being Bobby Brown), but it sure beats the buttons off the Stargate franchise, at least for me.

SciFi dropped a steaming load on us with Painkiller Jane, however. Turgid writing, leaden plots, acting just slightly better than my daughter's middle-school production of Cheaper by the Dozen (the classic play, not the craptacular Steve Martin movie), and a general feeling that no one involved really gives a rat's ass--it all adds up to a big "whatever".

USA loves to bring out shows in the summer. New episodes of Monk, Psych, Dead Zone, and The 4400 are running and the network has premiered a new series, Burn Notice.

Monk is problematic for me. The show's "mysteries" are pretty weak when they're not downright lame, and the plot often stops dead for a Tony Shalhoub Emmy-nomination grabbing set-piece. So why do I watch it?

Well, my daughter loves Tony Shalhoub (she's weird), and his long career helps the show get guest stars that no other show in this budget and ratings class could hope to snag. The acting by the regular cast members is uniformly excellent (Ted Levine deserves special mention). Shalhoub is quite good as the title character, and the whole enterprise goes down smoothly at 8 PM CDT on a Friday night.

Psych, on the other hand, started out like a bad episode of Monk and went downhill from there. Too self-consciously "wacky", sloppy in its writing and continuity, the only interest the show holds for me is "Why did Dule Hill decide that this was what should follow his stint on The West Wing?"

The 4400 and The Dead Zone run back-to-back on Sunday nights, and I like one and really don't care about the other. 4400 has struggled some since its return, but the show's willingness to examine things like religious fanaticism is good. I hope that the current arc pays off, since I don't think I've seen any other show attempt to dramatize how messianic religion grows. My big gripe about the show? I keep confusing star Joel Gretsch with Colin Ferguson of Eureka.

That leaves us with Burn Notice. Jeffrey Donovan stars as Michael Westen, a spy who has been "burned", that is declared anathema by the Agency. Sort of like the Quaker practice of shunning, but with 9mm handguns. Now he has to take odd investigative/protection jobs in Miami to earn money while he tries to find out who burned him and why. Donovan has an edge and a coldness to his persona that served him well in USA's Americanization of Touching Evil and in Burn Notice. He's a handsome man, but his eyes are close-set and his upper lip curls back in a feral manner. You have no problem believing that this guy would could either kill you if you cross him, or let you walk away. It's all the same to him. His co-stars are Bruce Campbell (the Chin!!!), Sharon Gless, and Gabrielle Anwar.

Campbell is a reliable presence. His professionalism and capable comedic skills make him a joy to watch as Sam Axe (another great character name for the former Ash Williams). Gless is the wild card, both as actor and plot device; she plays Michael's mom. Sure, it sounds funny--"The hero gets a call on his cell phone in the middle of a shootout! Guess what? It's his mom!" Could work, could be lame. Gless turns it into a hoot. The role is pretty generic, but she makes diamonds out of dirt. It's a textbook example of how a committed professional can elevate standard fare.

I was surprised by Anwar. My earliest memory of her is 1993's Wild Hearts Can't Be Broken. She was also in Abel Ferrara's Body Snatchers and Scent of a Woman (hooh-ah). She's 37 now and she looks it. I don't mean that in a bad way; simply that she looks like a beautiful adult woman, not someone pretending to be 22. Her character is Fiona, ex-IRA and also ex-love of Michael's. Anwar plays her dry and competent and a perfect foil for Donovan. I have to say that I'm enjoying Burn Notice.