The sweet bliss of stupid TV
Dumb, grandstanding, over-the-top … there’s a lot to be said for high-concept junk
I couldn’t get through them — the Emmy Awards.
As I kicked the cat off the futon and prepared myself for Sunday’s orgy of self-congratulation — about to score its lowest ratings in 69 years — it occurred to me that beyond a few egghead critics and those with names listed on the voting ballots, nobody cares.
Nobody cares about smirking Stephen Colbert, in full-on hosting mode, singing and dancing through a series of campy, irritating salutes to the year’s top shows, affecting a fake gravitas for a shout-out to hurricane first-responders and name-dropping CBS exec Les Moonves, as if anyone knows who that is.
“If you win, don’t forget to thank everyone who helped you get here — mainly, ‘Game of Thrones’ for not being eligible this year!” he advised nominees in a lame joke I remember Paul Simon making about then indomitable Stevie Wonder at the 1976 Grammy Awards.
After tepid applause and some worn-out cracks about Donald Trump — the world’s laziest punchline — mounds of hardware were handed to shows whose ads I see blasted on my Facebook feed but have neither the time nor motivation to watch.
Outstanding Drama Series: “The Handmaid’s Tale.”
Outstanding Comedy Series: “Veep.”
Outstanding Limited Series: “Big Little Lies.” Really, what was the point? Unlike the ’70s and ’80s, when everyone watched the same three broadcast networks and knew all the shows, today’s TV universe is so overwhelmingly vast, so inscrutably diverse, you would have to quit your job, disown your kids and spend all your time glued to the tube to even scratch the surface.
“Better Call Saul,” “Master of None,” “The Crown.”
Even as someone with a genuine interest, the most I can manage is one episode, maybe two, before the hype machine smacks me in the head and I go charging off, like Homer Simpson, toward the next shiny object.
Have you watched “The Handmaid’s Tale”?
Brilliant show: layered, nuanced. But you have to pay attention. Sit up straight. Put down that phone. Forget the snack. Are you really up for this an hour before bedtime? Same goes for HBO’s “Westworld.” An existential masterpiece? You bet. But like “Mad Men,” I had to slap myself every 10 minutes to keep my brain in focus. Is that a robot? A human? What’s with the poetry?
Which is why I’m looking forward to the current broadcast TV season.
Ah, sweet blissful stupidity, where have you been all my life?
The very things critics hate about the one-size-fits-all shows on the Big Four networks (CBS, ABC, NBC, FOX) are exactly
what I have come to belatedly embrace: high concept, dumbed down, superficial, and if you miss a punchline or plot twist, it will be repeated again, and again, before the next commercial break.
“That boy’s hair is too long,” a nine-yearold nerd finks on a classmate on the online trailer for “Young Sheldon” (Monday, 8:30 p.m. on CBS).
“This boy is wearing sports attire outside of a designated area. And this girl’s blouse is diaphanous, which means I can see her brassiere.”
He turns to the female teacher gazing at him with bemused admiration: “Also, in violation of the grooming code, you have a bit of a moustache.”
Ordinarily, as a critic, I would complain about this spinoff prequel to “The Big Bang Theory: too boring, too predictable, too fat guy-in-armchair-with-beer-in-one-hand embarrassing.
But frankly, I’ve had it with cerebral dramas about troubled anti-heroes trapped in murky moral quagmires.
I’m handing in my PhD from Netflix University and bidding adieu to envelopepushing shows like “Homeland,” “House of Cards” and “Orange is the New Black.”
It’s simplicity I’m after, two-dimensional time-wasters that gently push my nostalgia buttons, reaffirm my myopic view of the universe and bludgeon me with telegraphed punchlines that entertain without enlightening.
Based on these exacting standards, here are the fall season’s top new contenders.
“The Orville” (Sundays, 8 p.m. on FOX).
Someone will have to explain to me how Seth MacFarlane, the creator of “Family Guy” — the most puerile adult cartoon on
the tube — secured funding for this goofy tribute to “Star Trek” that casts him as a sniggering starship captain grappling with alien sex change operations and a squabbling ex-wife who has become his First Officer.
It’s like watching the talking dog from “Family Guy” impersonate William Shatner.
Still, there’s no brainpower required, and you never know when MacFarlane’s “Star Trek” mentor might show up for a winking cameo.
“Star Trek: Discovery” (Sunday, 8:30 p.m. on CBS — first episode only). Ah, here it is: the real thing. I’ve been following the backstage hijinx of this troubled spinoff of the ’66 original since it was announced two years ago, and sucker that I am, can’t wait to see how they update its noble explorers-in-space theme for the diversity-crazed 21st century.
Hedging its bets on a mass audience, the series debuts on CBS but moves to the nerdfriendly Space channel immediately after.
Which means my dreams of catatonic loafing may have to wait.
“Me, Myself & I” (Monday, 9:30 p.m. on CBS).
A harried inventor — depicted by three actors (Jack Grazer, Bobby Moynihan, John Larroquette) who look nothing alike — bumbles through one mishap after another at ages 14, 40 and 65.
Just dumb enough to hold my interest as I nod off from my nightly sugar high. “The Good Doctor” (Monday, 10 p.m. on ABC).
I love the premise: young surgical resident with autism shows up in the operating room and — despite the grave reservations of skeptical colleagues — turns out to be a FREAKIN’ MEDICAL GENIUS.
Realistic? Come on, it’s network TV. But as the father of a kid on the spectrum, I find the fairy tale element appealing. Count me in for this one. “Will & Grace” (Thursday, 9 p.m. on NBC). What, it’s back with its entire cast intact? It’s like turning the clock back to 1998, a simple, pre-9/11, pre-digital time when I had all my hair and no one mistook me for my own grandfather.
I don’t care if it’s any good. Nostalgia is like a sugar rush that never quits.
“Ghosted” (Oct. 1, 8:30 p.m. on Fox). And here they are — the two dorks from “Hot Tub Time Machine 2” (Adam Scott and Craig Robinson) as an astrophysicist profturned-bookstore employee and a detectiveturned-mall cop recruited by a secret government agency to investigate paranormal activity.
This is a mouthful, but if you watch the trailer, what you see is two caricatured dim-wits trying to out-prank one another as they careen from one goofy alien encounter to another.
“I could have died back there!” whines one to the other.
“Oh, someone need a hug?” he snaps back. “Want to go to an independent coffee house and talk it out?”
Dumb, grandstanding, over-the-top. Where do I sign up?
“9JKL” (Oct. 2, 8:30 p.m. on CBS). Now what have we here? A grown man sharing an apartment complex with his annoying family, whose parents happen to be the guy who played Trapper John in the film version of “M*A*S*H” (Elliott Gould) and the woman who spent nine seasons serving tables on TV’s “Alice” (Linda Lavin).
You probably know the drill: awkward encounters, usually with a sexual undertone, unexpected drop-ins and intergenerational griping about the need for privacy.
“What is wrong with you people,” shouts Mark Feuerstein’s divorced actor in the trailer. “This is my first date since the divorce and you’re ruining it. Boundaries! Boundaries! Boundaries! I require a modicum of respect.”
When I saw the wisecracking kid who hangs out in the lobby, I was in for the fix. “The Mayor” (Oct. 3, 9:30 p.m. on ABC).
A streetwise rapper runs for political office to boost his career and, gulp, wins. “This has to be a mistake!’’ he grouses. “Now what do I do?”
His mama lays down the law: “You rap because you critique the status quo. Maybe now you can actually change it!”
I love this kind of high-concept junk, especially when it’s injected with hamfisted pathos and zingy punchlines like “There was so much trash, Bravo gave it a second season!”
It may not be Shakespeare. But as an opiate for the masses, it’s second to none.