Before Bruno showed his pasty white buttocks to Eminem on the MTV Movie Awards, the network aired the one-hour season finale of The Hills, which also marked Lauren Conrad's last appearance. And, PopWatchers, I got a little misty. Then again, the pollen count has been quite high lately so it may have been allergies. Still, watching Lauren drive off into the sunset away from all of her friends/co-stars/gaffers, I did think about how much fun I've had watching the last five years of Lauren's life from Laguna Beach to now.
But even more fun was Heidi and Spencer's wedding, which was as loopy as one could hope (Stacie the bartender showed up!). Kristin Cavallari, who helped introduce Heidi and Spencer and will be next season's new star, showed up at the church sans bra, which felt both appropriate and a little uncomfortable. More genius was that she dressed in nearly the identical color as Lauren, who looked none-too-pleased to see her old rival. Heidi was literally dripping in diamonds; it's like someone at the jewelry store told her that she could walk out of the store with as many jewels as she could get on her body and this was the result.
The final moments with Kristin joining Lo, Audrina, and Heidi and Spencer outside the church gave us a little taste of what the next season will look like. And, if that wasn't enough, Hills producers even crafted a little teaser with footage shot so far. Looks like Kristin is doing what she does best: drama!
I hate to say it, but maybe it was time for MADtv to go. Fox's 14-year-old sketch comedy show aired its series finale last night with a mixture of previously shown clips and new bits that proved how thin its material has grown. Old friends (Alex Borstein, Will Sasso) stopped by, and the remaining cast beat a hasty retreat. It might've all gone down as an amusing if unmemorable exit but for one thing: the telethon.
The entire episode was presented as "MADtv Gives Back" -- parodying American Idol's erstwhile charity show -- with Fred Willard as the host. And maybe I'm making too much of this, but it seems terribly inappropriate to fake a telethon. At times like these (and yes, Lord, I know we're all sick of saying "at times like these," but still), why would you pretend to collect for needy causes? Why not actually do it? Why not turn MADtv's final bow into an prime-time special to raise money for those who desperately need it? It would have been a magnanimous gesture -- with Fox, viewers, and presumably, the cast ponying up to say thanks for the memories. It also would've been the show's first water-cooler moment in ages.
Understand, I'm not suggesting they had to have some sort of charitable event on their way out. I'm just saying they damn sure shouldn't have faked it. But what do you think? Am I too hard on Fox's sketch crew? Was it time for them to go? And can we all agree that they've had better days, like this one?:
Being a (wannabe) cougar myself, I should begin this mini-TV watch on TV Land's The Cougar by saying I have no interest in holding court with 20 men under 30 who go by names like Bodie and dream up cornball lines like "How will you taste me if I'm not on your plate?" Nope, can't even say I've fantasized about ridiculous situations like this. Still, TV Land's redux on The Bachelor franchise (both are from executive producer Mike Fleiss) still piqued my interest, if only to see if turnabout was fair play when it came to May-December romances. I'm here to tell you it's not -- though I congratulate fellow sisters like Stacy Anderson of Arizona (a.k.a. the show's first cougar), who have stretched their cute years well into their 40s (though I guess she's only 40). But I got no pleasure in watching this commercial Realtor (with four kids of her own!) "kiss off" a bunch of immature schlubs so she could still hold court with 15 other immature schlubs. Seriously, what was so appealing about Ryan, the 29-year-old crow-eating sap from the military who made the mistake of saying she was "too old to be a cougar"? And really, did I miss something about Officer Nick, the 27-year-old meathead whose idea of a pickup line was to say, "You're under arrest, for stealing my heart...you have the right to remain delicious"? And she kissed those guys, to boot! Even the bachelorettes on the ABC mothership didn't have to smooch their picks on the first date. Yuck!
Still, I tried valiantly to play along. I gave a thumbs up to the 23-year-old martial arts instructor named Johnny for stripping down to his blue skivvies in a not-so-obvious attempt to show off his ripped bod. (And by God, it worked: Homeboy didn't get the kiss off!) And I also was entranced by the adorable, blond Travis, even though the sight of him kissing the cougar on his 21st birthday made me want to wash my eye sockets out with soap (and seek absolution from my priest).
What did you think of the show? Did you cringe -- or clap -- when Stacy kissed off the losers? Do you think she'll find true love? Or are you secretly hoping that host Vivica A. Fox reveals herself to be the real (and well deserved) cougar of TV Land?
The Countess put together a charity event for the American Cancer Society. The Housewives would prepare an elaborately healthy meal for visiting patients at New York's Hope Lodge. What could go wrong at an event that should so clearly only concentrate on men and women in real need, right? Well, as the women ripped apart a head of romaine lettuce, LuAnn questioned the elegance of Ramona's Man Magnet prescription for single Bethenny. So Ramona, eyes bugging as LuAnn alluded to the vulnerability of a girl's reputation, accused LuAnn of knowing nothing about men as she married one twice her age. LuAnn, looking like Glenn Close at her wobbliest in Fatal Attraction, got royally pissed. They snipped back and forth as a pale, bald woman in a baseball cap walked in and out of the shot preparing the food -- you know, for the meal to honor cancer patients. LuAnn whined to the camera about how this was supposed to be her night and bitchy Ramona went and ruined it. Way to give it up for charity, ladies.
Meanwhile, Bethenny (pictured) was the cover model for a bi-weekly called Social Life magazine. This was supposed to be her moment and bitchy LuAnn went and ruined it by bringing up the necessity of retouching. I'm not sure what else to say here, other than if Bravo ever gives that awful editor-in-chief Devorah ("Oh my God, kitten, just shut up and be pretty!") any more air time I will be forced to boycott all of their shows.
In the 'burbs (and that was a cruelly delicious cut from Ramona's oceanic Hamptons pool to Alex and Simon's 10-foot inflatable), the couple finally met with a contractor to talk about their ramshackle of a house. They want built-in bookshelves for the collections of Shakespeare and Dickens so Francois can pluck whatever classic down from the shelf whenever the spirit moves him. Fast-forward to a picture of Francois gumming page 38 of Oliver Twist as he makes funny shapes out of Mummy's bras.
To explain the unique ridiculousness of Alex and Simon to someone unacquainted with this show, I'd present this snippet of dialogue from the scene of them packing for their Caribbean vacation:
ALEX: I probably don't need the denim ball gown, as much as I love it.
SIMON: I'm going to take these pink jeans.
ALEX: Are you taking your pink loafers too?
How about it, PopWatchers? Last night, with Jill in woefully short supply, was a drag. Is a Real Housewives of New York worth watching without Jill? Who would you rather be stuck in an elevator with -- Ramona or Devorah? Did you know they made denim ball gowns?
This recap has been brought to you by the McFlurry, Dunk--...[nevermind], and StopShowingOff.com
I loved the way last night's 30 Rock handled Valentine's Day, because there are cool-ish women out there who tend to not prioritize a timely calculation as to when exactly this "holiday" will attack. If it happens to fall on Saturday/Stew night, then WHATEVER, and personally I have trouble wrapping my creme-filled head around the notion that there's only one special day we should stuff our faces full of chocolate...not to mention substitute cheddar cheese for water. When you live every day like it's February 14th, it becomes nearly impossible to make the distinction. No 30 Rock clip has better illustrated this philosophy than Lemon's proposed alternative to Jack's high-class V-Day dessert. Press play below, and try not to die laughing...tomorrow's VALENTINE'S DAY, after all.
(Click here for Tina Fey's take on the perfect doughnut: "You go blind for about five seconds when you eat it.") More 30 Rock, after the jump.
Let's discuss last night's 100th episode, "The Greater Good" -- or what I like to call "House Goes Out Of Its Way to Make The 100th Episode Not All That Special." ZERO Cameron/Chase action, and nobody died -- even though Thirteen's been beggin' for it for months! Really, House? It's more than a little sad that the two most lingering impressions I took from House were how huge Cuddy's laptop seemed (look at that thing! optical illusion?! it's freaking me out!) and how happy Taub's wife (pretty much a nonentity until last night) is with her personal life. Ho, hum.
The Thirteen/Foreman romance (that last night featured them lounging non-seductively on a huge bed about five feet apart -- intimate!) is a total waste of time, so I refuse to discuss it here. I will give props to Olivia Wilde's ability to "play blind," even though it might be as simple as avoiding eye contact with other actors in the same room. I really believed she was blind. Maybe I just wanted her to be blind. And then die.
I definitely enjoyed the cancer researcher-turned-cooking student Patient of the Week and her influence on Foreman, Taub, and especially the underutilized Wilson. We don't usually see him and his floppy hair putzing around at home, so I'd just about forgotten that Wilson's been woefully trapped in a suffocating aura of Dead Amber and her Things. Wash that coffee mug, Robert Sean Leonard -- wash it good! (He didn't. No soap, nary a wipe, barely a rinse! I know, I know. This is TV.)
I liked Kutner last night, too, especially when he refused to do real work until House let him in on what was going on with Foreman and Thirteen. Go back and watch House's face as he considers what to do...he is ACTIVELY CARING ABOUT PEOPLE for a few seconds! I should compile these rare moments in a video tribute to The Softer Side of House. You could show it to your friends who only like watching nice people practice pleasantness on TV. It'd be a totally different show. Yeah, I won't do that.
Hey, hair department: You have to do something about Cuddy's mop. I'm going to dedicate an entire post to it every week until you do. I'm not going to make you take the stairs, trip you over a wire, or take away your cane, because that would be not only immature, but completely unrealistic as a plot point because who would do the hair if you died? But seriously. Those bangs. Get on it.
What did you think of last night's 100th episode, House-bounds?
It's a testament to the relatability of The Biggest Loser that even a so-so episode with a not-at-all surprising outcome could make my eyes misty more times than Mandi cried the past two weeks combined. After last week's elimination shocker, in which the well-liked Damien got the heave-ho instead of the universally disliked Joelle, the contestants remembered why they were toiling away in sunny California instead of pushing paper at their real-world jobs -- they're in a competition, not NBC Happy Fun Healthy Eating Land. Just because you're buddies with someone doesn't mean you should have 'em stick around when a large sum of money is at stake. Considering the urgency of this final win (do well and your loved one comes back!), it's a shame the episode was so anticlimactic -- the producers laid out exactly what was going to happen in the freakin' previews at the end of last week's show.
With the final weigh-in before reunification day fast approaching, the ranch-side contestants predicted how their home-side compatriots were faring. Last week, we saw David eating fried chicken at a buffet, and it seemed that behavior didn't stop -- we saw more shots of the 23-year-old eating unhealthily and smoking cigarettes -- hardly the stuff of a lifestyle change. Unfortunately, David's consistent half-assedness would portend what was to come.
Last night was the season 2 premiere of my favorite show I inexplicably watch every week even though I'm not sure if I like or not -- The Secret Life of the American Teenager, where every character acts like a 15-year-old, regardless of age (I'm looking at you, parental figures), and every minute plot point is explained in full detail by the characters while it's happening. Let's not waste any time chuckling at the fact that the show's appropriately sponsored by Clean & Clear and get down to business -- the two major revelations from last night's episode.
First, Amy's mom dropped the bomb that she won't take care of her grandchild 24/7 when it arrives in three months, and Amy didn't take it too well. Taking care of the child you bear? A concept only shocking to a 15-year-old. I was shocked because I'm pretty sure child-rearing is in the whole ''parental responsibility'' contract you automatically sign when you have a child. Not to mention it was one of the things I thought Amy was taking into consideration during oh, you know, the entire first season, when she debated over keeping the child or not. Though I do appreciate the writers for harping on this point (if a little too obviously), because having your parents' help is something many teen parents take for granted.
Amy reacted to the news the only way she knew how -- by accepting her boyfriend's ridiculous marriage proposal (seems honorable when faced with a pregnant girlfriend, but I just think it's weird seeing as Ben isn't the father). I know Amy was upset because she felt abandoned by her mother, but she should know that no one's ever abandoned on a Brenda Hampton show! (Just call up the Camdens; they'll take you in.) Getting married seems like a gross overreaction to a fact you really should have considered a couple of months ago.
The best suspended-reality TV-show moment of the
night, after the jump.
One of the worst things you can call a TV show is "inoffensive." It's the equivalent of telling someone that you just want to be friends: "You're not horrible enough that I need to ban you from my life, but you offer nothing that I can't get somewhere else, so I'll just see you when I see you." Eleventh Hour — CBS' latest procedural, imported from Britain — is inoffensive.
The show revolves around Dr. Jacob Hood (A Knight's Tale's Rufus Sewell) who, in the premiere, identified himself as a special science advisor to the FBI, then added, "I was appointed to investigate crimes and crisis of a scientific nature." You'd think that Sewell's warm bath of a voice could make any line of TV dialogue work, but no, it just emphasizes how much bad writing is beneath him. Dr. Hood is partnered with Special Agent Rachel Young (Sugar & Spice's Marley Shelton), whose job it is to protect the biophysicist from the people he pisses off in the course of solving cases. This means he carries a panic button with him that he can, oops!, accidentally sit on late at night and summon her to the hotel bar, gun drawn, when she's wearing a short white robe that's open just enough to remind us that underneath those pant suits, she wears a sexy black bra. Puh-lease. I suppose we should be happy that the producers opted for that kind of humiliation instead of a pratfall to make her seem vulnerable to the audience. Having a woman be the muscle in a partnership is cool — don't blow it! Keep her balls-to-the-wall (as when a stranger offered to buy her a drink and she responded, "Before you disturb me, you should know I’m filling out this paperwork because I shot at a man today." Why? "Because he disturbed me").
There's a reason I'm three paragraphs in and I'm just now getting to the crime in this episode — it was kinda boring, even though it involved human cloning. After 19 (!) dead fetuses were found in Seattle, it was finally time to bring in Hood, who was apparently the first person to think about doing DNA testing. (Note: The local detective was played by Buffy the Vampire Slayer's Riley, Marc Blucas, who should really cut his hair.) Hood determined that they were clones, and, set out to find the person pulling the strings — someone with the codename Geppetto. That was so supposed to be clever, but it made me groan. Even more so after Young said she never understood Geppetto — a woodcarver wants a son so badly that he makes one, Pinocchio...what is there not to understand? Her musings, however, made Hood realize that Geppetto would be commissioned by a billionaire parent who'd lost a child, and he took Young to a library to sit and look through hard copies of local newspapers from 2005. Wouldn't a computer have been quicker? Of course, Hood found the dad (Michael O'Keefe) and had a heart-to-heart that revealed something about himself: his wife died two years ago, and not a day goes by that he doesn't want her back. The tears in Sewell's eyes made me wish he was on a better show. Like, The Mentalist. In the end, Hood saved the mother who was carrying the 20th ill-fated fetus, but Geppetto got away. Do we want Geppetto to be the villain that returns every Sweeps period? Eh. (Insert shoulder shrug.) A better question: Do you want this series to last until November?
Oh my God are you serious!?! You missed Weekend Update Thursday on NBC? REALLY?! No worries. Watch the funniest Seth & Amy part (below), or the full episode (on Hulu). And don't miss McCain's adorable new pet name for Obama on EW.com's daily Sound Bites!
I like this. Take away the "Will this week's celebrity host be a total disaster?" fear and it turns out SNL fits right in as a 22-minute sitcom. All the next two Thursday installments need is some Tina Fey guest spot action, to tide us over until we can finally belt out, "Please welcome...Liz LEH-MONNNNNN," Oprah-style, when30 Rock premieres October 30.
I hate to say it, but maybe it was time for MADtv to go. Fox's 14-year-old sketch comedy show aired its series finale last night with a mixture of previously shown clips and new bits that proved how thin its material has grown. Old friends (Alex Borstein, Will Sasso) stopped by, and the remaining cast beat a hasty retreat. It might've all gone down as an amusing if unmemorable exit but for one thing: the telethon.
The Countess put together a charity event for the American Cancer Society. The Housewives would prepare an elaborately healthy meal for visiting patients at New York's Hope Lodge. What could go wrong at an event that should so clearly only concentrate on men and women in real need, right? Well, as the women ripped apart a head of romaine lettuce, LuAnn questioned the elegance of Ramona's Man Magnet prescription for single Bethenny. So Ramona, eyes bugging as LuAnn alluded to the vulnerability of a girl's reputation, accused LuAnn of knowing nothing about men as she married one twice her age. LuAnn, looking like Glenn Close at her wobbliest in Fatal Attraction, got royally pissed. They snipped back and forth as a pale, bald woman in a baseball cap walked in and out of the shot preparing the food -- you know, for the meal to honor cancer patients. LuAnn whined to the camera about how this was supposed to be her night and bitchy Ramona went and ruined it. Way to give it up for charity, ladies.
Let's discuss last night's 100th episode, "The Greater Good" -- or what I like to call "House Goes Out Of Its Way to Make The 100th Episode Not All That Special." ZERO Cameron/Chase action, and nobody died -- even though Thirteen's been beggin' for it for months! Really, House? It's more than a little sad that the two most lingering impressions I took from House were how huge Cuddy's laptop seemed (look at that thing! optical illusion?! it's freaking me out!) and how happy Taub's wife (pretty much a nonentity until last night) is with her personal life. Ho, hum.
It's a testament to the relatability of The Biggest Loser that even a so-so episode with a not-at-all surprising outcome could make my eyes misty more times than Mandi cried the past two weeks combined. After last week's elimination shocker, in which the well-liked Damien got the heave-ho instead of the universally disliked Joelle, the contestants remembered why they were toiling away in sunny California instead of pushing paper at their real-world jobs -- they're in a competition, not NBC Happy Fun Healthy Eating Land. Just because you're buddies with someone doesn't mean you should have 'em stick around when a large sum of money is at stake. Considering the urgency of this final win (do well and your loved one comes back!), it's a shame the episode was so anticlimactic -- the producers laid out exactly what was going to happen in the freakin' previews at the end of last week's show.
Last night was the season 2 premiere of my favorite show I inexplicably watch every week even though I'm not sure if I like or not -- The Secret Life of the American Teenager, where every character acts like a 15-year-old, regardless of age (I'm looking at you, parental figures), and every minute plot point is explained in full detail by the characters while it's happening. Let's not waste any time chuckling at the fact that the show's appropriately sponsored by Clean & Clear and get down to business -- the two major revelations from last night's episode.
One of the worst things you can call a TV show is "inoffensive." It's the equivalent of telling someone that you just want to be friends: "You're not horrible enough that I need to ban you from my life, but you offer nothing that I can't get somewhere else, so I'll just see you when I see you." Eleventh Hour — CBS' latest procedural, imported from Britain — is inoffensive. 
