April 8, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Television Critic

If you want to make fun of David Caruso, you're late to the party. Yes, he puts on his sunglasses and takes them off a lot. On, off, on, off. And he says the corniest stuff. The top "CSI: Miami"-related video at YouTube is a funny compilation of opening scenes. They make Caruso's Horatio look like a cartoon cop.

The YouTube piece is called "CSI Miami -- Endless Caruso One Liners." If you watch "One Liners" -- to deconstruct the acting style of one of TV's biggest stars -- you'll see Caruso is always mixing cliches together, or overselling utilitarian dialogue.

He does this by pausing ... while speaking with the accentuated authority ... of a movie-trailer narrator.

Mixed cliches: "So we have a victim that started the weekend as a big man on campus, and ended it [pause-pause] dead on arrival."

Overselling a line: "There's a chance this girl's alive. [Pause, sunglasses]. And we [pause] are gonna find her."

Mixed cliches: "The verdict is in, Frank. [Pause, put on sunglasses.] But the jury is out."

Overselling a line: "I [pause, sunglasses] am going to get to the truth."

It's a catchy gimmick. "CSI: Miami" is a top five show in the ratings. And Caruso, 51, is a big star again, even though he doesn't get as many on-screen minutes as the usual lead character in an ensemble show.

His voice acting fits Horatio. It often seems like the character is merely the show's narrator, showing up at crime scenes and interrogations to issue one or two abbreviated Greek chorus judgments to cops and killers. He repeats these taglines often.

In a November episode about the death of a soldier, a suspect asked Horatio: Isn't Iraq out of your cop jurisdiction?

"Not anymore, Brad. Not anymore," Horatio said.

Later in the same episode, the killer whined that Horatio just didn't understand why the victim, a Cpl. Kirby, had to die.

"I bet Cpl. Kirby does, Brad. I bet he does," Horatio said.

It doesn't take Jim Carrey to mock Caruso, but Carrey did on "Letterman" several weeks ago.

"He loves to put the button on, and then he just walks away," Carrey said. "He doesn't wait for anybody to retort. I think he's afraid they might have a comeback."

I ran into Caruso at a CBS party a few years ago. I failed to ask about Horatio's speaking pattern. But when Caruso wasn't happily looking at photos of his new baby, he explained the sunglasses bit.

"Hiding my eyes at kind of important moments in the hour would be valuable [symbolically], especially down there, because everything's so bright. Sunglasses are an important, indigenous factor down there."

This insight into sunglasses reminded me of when NPR's Terry Gross asked Clint Eastwood how he came up with the idea of making his Spaghetti Western characters squint like cool customers. Eastwood answered simply as if this was the most unnecessary question ever: The desert was sunny.

Eastwood is an interesting comparison. Eastwood's a better actor. But his fed-up cop Dirty Harry is something of a forefather of Horatio. Caruso's hard-bitten Horatio is much colder and Dirty Harry-ish than Caruso's Detective John Kelly was in "NYPD Blue."

John Kelly was a sensitive guy. If a secretary was having tough times, John would gently place his hand on her shoulder, give her a Peter Jennings head tilt, and talk-whisper something like, "You OK?" This perfectly fit the "I feel your pain" Clinton years.

By contrast, Horatio kills killers like a sociopath would. Emotionless. This perfectly fits the tone of the "evildoer" Terrorist-Bush Era.

One gunman threatened that Horatio was in so much jeopardy, he was "already dead." Horatio raised his pistol, shot the man dead, paused of course, then flatly articulated, "Join the club."

Another time, Horatio shot a bad guy who fell to the ground and, dying, tried to grasp a gun. Horatio walked past the man and, without looking down or altering his step, blasted another bullet into the villain's body.

Bullets can't hit Horatio. And in yet another way, he's a much luckier cop than Dirty Harry and John Kelly in that his suspects love to confess in the last 10 minutes to him or to another investigator.

A few weeks ago, one of three twin sisters began to confess as if she were on "Perry Mason" -- "I was told to shoot Dominick when I heard the champagne corks pop" -- and then, her other two sisters started confessing their roles, even though there was no real evidence against them.

Flashbacks aplenty revisit victims' last moments and suspects' schemes. Extreme close-ups and special effects display the microscopic insides of a dying heart or a forensic computer.

And, oh, those hilariously repetitive musical montages focusing on forensic cops cutting things with scissors and rubbing things with Q-tips.

That's the obvious "CSI" stuff. What's funniest to me is when Caruso tells people, "I'm with CSI," and they respond as if they're familiar with their local Crime Scene Investigation office. If people told me they were from CSI, I wouldn't think they were cops. I'd say, "Which one? Vegas, New York or Miami?"

But there's no mistaking Caruso deserves credit for crafting Movie Narrator Cop out of thin air and making Horatio a household habit, a decade after he became synonymous with "Cheers' " Shelley Long. Both left hit TV shows in search of failed movie careers. Long could certainly use a "CSI: Boston."

But Caruso didn't just stumble into this newly stylized performance. He makes Horatio this way on purpose. As Horatio once said, an "accident [pause, sunglasses] is not an accident at all."

delfman@suntimes.com

By Doug Elfman
The Game Dork

There are surprises in life. The Jets win the Super Bowl. Martha Stewart goes to prison. And this week, my best reviews are for games you play on mobile phones. Like Paris Hilton photos in a glossy magazine, they're cheap, easy and entertaining.

Phone games have been silly for, you know, forever. Characters used to look like sticks. Games were shallow and dumb, like Paris Hilton.

Yet, here comes a slew of legitimately fun games that even Paris Hilton could get the hang of. I'm focusing for the moment on Electronic Arts games, because they're around $5 each through EAmobile.com, and EA is a leader in the field.

The most obvious winner is "Tetris Mania." My "Tetris"-aholic mom would love this little phoner. It plays exactly like any good "Tetris" does. Differently shaped boxes fall from the sky. You arrange them. Before you know it, two hours pass.

"Tetris" is a puzzle game, so it looks very simple. If you're looking for something more complex, "The Sims 2: Pets" is a pleasant surprise.

You begin by picking a golden Lab, a Chihuahua, a mutt or another dog. You play ball, feed them -- the range of missions you normally carry out in pet simulators such as "Nintendogs." It's very cute, although if you're not into simulators, it might bore you.

Even EA Mobile's "NASCAR '07" looks pretty good for a phone. The imagery is on par with car games from the 1990s. You see the same basic aerial view of your racer as you speed around a track.

The downer of "NASCAR '07" is you don't wield much control. You decide when to change lanes and speed up, but you're not really driving. Still, its simplicity might appeal to people who aren't hard-core gamers.

These mobile games take game playing back to basics. If you're sick of buying superhard video games that make your brain work as if it's playing "Jeopardy," phone games offer much more stripped-down diversions, akin to older games from the 1990s.

Here's a good comparison. "Tiger Woods PGA Tour '07" is a much simpler beast than its brethren on Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3. It looks rudimentary. But the mobile version uses the same, fun dynamics of targeting fairways and perfecting backswings.

To the contrary, "Tiger Woods PGA Tour '07" for the fancy and interactive Nintendo Wii severely tests your ability to stand in your living room and swing the interactive remote control like you would a golf club.

I'm an OK golfer, but I can't get this Wii "Tiger Woods" to read my swing correctly. I'm sure the problem lies with my impatience to perfect a virtual drive, approach and putt. But the cell phone version is more entertaining.

For that matter, "Tetris Mania" is more compelling than the Wii's new "Wii Play," which asks me to use its interactive remote control to play air hockey, billiards and other traditional games. "Wii Play" is popular, sometimes a delight, and fun to play against other gamers.

But "Wii Play" lacks what better mobile games present: an addictive quality. After all these years, when those "Tetris" blocks rain from the sky, I still want to put them in their place, like I was Martha Stewart (not Paris Hilton).

("NASCAR '07" retails for $3.50 for mobile phones -- Plays OK. Looks OK. Easy. Rated "E." Two stars out of four.)

("Tetris Mania" retails for $5 for mobile phones -- Plays fun and addictive. Looks fine. Easy to difficult. Rated "E." Three and one-half stars.)

("The Sims 2: Pets" retails for $7 for mobile phones -- Plays fun, if limited by the appeal of its being a simulation. Looks good for a phone. Easy to moderately difficult. Rated "E." Three stars.)

("Tiger Woods PGA Tour '07," will retail for $5 or more for mobile phones -- Plays fun. Looks fine. Moderately difficult. Rated "E." Three stars.)

("Tiger Woods PGA Tour '07" retails for $50 for Wii -- Plays confusing. Looks fine. Difficult. Rated "E." Two stars.)

("Wii Play" retails for $50 for Wii -- It plays fun most often when you're competing against other gamers. Looks OK. Easy to moderately difficult. Two and one-half stars.)

April 6, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic

Dear women, Here are four things you may learn about guys from watching the first five new episodes of "Entourage":

GUYS SOMETIMES LIE TO GUY FRIENDS ABOUT YOU: Sure, Vince (Adrian Grenier) could tell his entourage he's on his way to a hot tub with a certain woman they distrust. But if he does, they'll only stand in his way, with their ulterior motives. Better to lie now and explain later.

WOMEN ARE THE DOGS THEY WALK: Two guy friends -- nicknamed Drama and Turtle -- go to a dog park to cruise chicks. Drama, a wise buffoon, tells us to avoid a girl walking a Lhasa Apso. Hot chicks who own those finicky pooches are fussy, thus making it too hard to seduce them. (Girls: Try wearing a T-shirt that reads, "My Dog is CUTER than Your Dog." This will make you easier prey.)

GUYS CAN ONLY WAIT FOR THE DOORS OF THE GOLDEN PALACE TO OPEN: When E's girlfriend gives him the silent treatment, he asks if she will speak to him soon. "Oh, I'll talk," she says, "but I wouldn't expect much else." Ergo, women have all sexual power. Men must wait them out.

GUYS GET DISTRACTED WATCHING GIRLS IN TUBS: I had to watch Vince's hot-tub scene twice to hear the dialogue, because the first time, the visuals of the soapy naked actress sapped energy from my ears.

Pearls of wisdom like these are routine in "Entourage." The HBO series follows the lifestyles of movie star Vince, his nickname-laden entourage (Turtle, E, Drama) and Vince's longtime agent Ari (Jeremy Piven).

When the current third season halted for a break in August, Vince was firing Ari for no great reason. The season resumes with the question: Will Vince take Ari back or will they keep going separate ways while Vince tries to land big film roles?

But at its core, the thrust of these new, typically decent episodes isn't all that Hollywood finagling. The breezy comedy more strenuously chronicles everyone's personal relationships and how-to-pick-up-girl routines.

Vince, of course, has no trouble getting women. The last time I saw Grenier in person, female journalists were swarming him and trying to contain swoons, as one of the swarmers described it to me later.

His buddies don't have the Vince sparkle in their eyes, nor his skinny tallness, full hair, facial structure or star eyebrows. So they have to work a little harder/ lie to the ladies.

"Entourage" never pretends the protagonists are all sweet people (although Vince is kind of sweet). "Entourage" often makes men look as appealing as "Trainspotting" did heroin.

You could easily argue women come across better. E's grumpy girl aside, the episodes feature smart, sexual women in power roles, and no-nonsense wives who don't deny their sexual appetites. A female therapist has the spine to call Ari (accurately) a low-life narcissist.

Ladies often speak as macho as the men do. A female talent agent in competition with Ari cracks at him, "Want me to walk you to your car? This town's not safe for a bitch."

Speaking of Ari, Piven's still the best thing about "Entourage." Of all the macho, not-good guys in the show, he's the not-goodest macho-est.

Ari tries to pimp out his gay assistant Lloyd (Rex Lee, the second-best thing about "Entourage") to entice business from a gay potential client.

"Your love of [male genitalia] is a huge asset to this company," Ari explains.

All in all, what you have here is the usual "Entourage":

• A stereotypical dude's fantasy, populated with glamorous, strong, carnal females; golf outings, and courtside scenes at L.A. Lakers games.

• Male guest stars men know well, such as Ed Burns, Adam Goldberg, Pauly Shore and Artie Lange.

• And the most important thing: Jeremy Piven makes Ari an intensely enjoyable and sympathetic arse.

Just about the only time women aren't enchanting or powerful is when they're under Ari's control. At his talent agency office, he snatches a snack out of the mouth of a heavyset woman and remarks of her dietary choice: "Skip it, Jenny."

So there's the fifth thing women can be reminded about from watching "Entourage": GUYS ARE FATISTS WHO WILL POUNCE ON YOU THE FIRST CHANCE THEY GET.

April 5, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times

Someone's knocking very hard on the door of the house of the mob boss. It's 6 a.m. Have the authorities finally come for Tony Soprano?

Tony's long-suffering, complicit wife, Carmela, bends up in bed when she hears the surprise banging.

"Is this it?" she panics.

Maybe she's just being paranoid. I'm not saying. What do you think, I'm crazy? Fans have been waiting 136 years or something for the final nine episodes of "The Sopranos" to hit HBO. The first runs Sunday. I'm not spilling serious beans.

But you can be assured of seeing the following in the first two episodes: A machinegun fires. Someone gets his guts ripped out in a chop shop. Naked breasts bounce in Tony's strip club. A mobster drives another mobster through the woods, never a good sign.

And Carmela (Edie Falco) defends her husband's honor.

"Tony is not a vindictive man," she says. (Which Tony Soprano does she think she's talking about?)

"Sopranos" fans and radio DJs will surely be contemplating how it will all end in two months. Judging from the first two episodes, Tony's prospects look as pressured as ever. The feds. Mob rivals. His unhealthy lifestyle. People in his own organization who might not be his friends. Who knows?

So the questions: Will he die? Will he go to prison? Will he end up with no comeuppance whatsoever?

Because the end is near, there's a bit of a "Lost"-ish obstacle in these first two hours. It's hard for me to watch completely fresh without wondering a tad too much where it's leading.

"Sopranos" parlor games are fun, but not while watching it. Besides, each "Sopranos" is like a one-hour movie. Even after the first two episodes, the time-warping drama could go in any number of directions all season, only to arrive at an undiscovered country in its last-ever 15 minutes.

Last season's finale had some great stuff, particularly the accelerated storytelling of Christopher's drug affair with Julianna. What works best in the first new shows is "The Sopranos" feels tightly written and directed.

This season opens just as focused on characters and -- more important -- their conversations, which are ridiculous, realistic, inane and dire. Actors get a lot of the credit usually, but this show would be nada if the scripts didn't zero in so well on the very human ways such human monsters talk.

The show's penchant for celebrity guest stars still blooms. The second episode features guest acting from directors Sydney Pollack (excellent as usual) and Peter Bogdanovich, Tim Daly (in an unenviable position) and Geraldo Rivera (behaving like Geraldo Rivera).

Then there's the guy who says, "I've been accused of being part of a certain Italian-American subculture." His mortality is in peril.

"It's funny. Ironic. Whichever," this gangster says. "I quit smoking after 38 years. Exercised. Ate right. And for what?"

I see an "oh, well" cigarette in this man's future. But that's about the only at-risk future I feel comfortable hinting at here.

What else is on

April 6, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
TONIGHT"Wife Swap" (8:01 p.m., WLS-Channel 7): ABC's first-year drama "Six Degrees" was supposed to air in this spot, but bad ratings tanked it. So here comes a repeat episode of "Wives Are Disposable And to Be Toyed With."
"P. Diddy Presents the Bad Boys of Comedy" (11 p.m., HBO): The second season starts with Doug E. Fresh (the rapper, not me, though I am frrreesshhh) emceeing stand-up routines by comedians Drew Fraser, Damn Fool, Ian Edwards and Will-E Robo.

SATURDAY"Punk'd" (noon, MTV): A four-hour marathon unveils all of the final season's episodes. Then at 8 p.m. Tuesday, they start rerunning. These last celebrity pranks focus on Evangeline Lilly, JoJo, Magic Johnson, Hilary Swank and Ashley Tisdale. If you just can't live without yet more practical jokes pulled on the rich and famous, a "Punk'd Awards" wrap-up comes June 5.

SUNDAY"Masterpiece Theatre" (8 p.m., WTTW-Channel 11): Kenneth Grahame's children's story "Wind in the Willows," the moral story about animal friends, gets a live-action movie adaptation.

TONIGHT'S TALK"The Tonight Show With Jay Leno," 10:35 p.m., Channel 5: Actor Jeremy Piven; actress Jenna Fischer; musician John Legend.

"Late Show With David Letterman," 10:50 p.m., Channel 2: Actor Richard Gere; exotic foods chef Gene Rurka; music group Aqualung.

"Late Night With Conan O'Brien," 11:35 p.m., Channel 5: Actor Michael Imperioli; musician Albert Hammond Jr.

"Late Late Show With Craig Ferguson," 11:50 p.m., Channel 2: Actress Carla Gugino; fighter Randy Couture; rapper Redman.

"Jimmy Kimmel Live," 12:05 a.m., Channel 7: Actress Hilary Swank; "Dancing With the Stars" contestant Shandi Finnessey; singer Hilary Duff.

April 4, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic

A few thoughts come to mind while I watch three new shows on MTV. First: Leave it to MTV to be one of the only networks to give this much prime time to talented black professionals.

But second: Leave it to MTV to cheat its audience down to 20-minute half-hour shows -- a third of each half-hour is commercials -- and to turn that 20 minutes into a bunch of seen-it-before, who-cares culture clashes.

On Thursday, the three dull shows start up on the network geared for 13-year-old boys and, um, I'm not sure if 14-year-olds are young enough to fit into MTV's demographic anymore.

There are many skilled performances in the new series -- by rappers Three 6 Mafia and comedians Kat Williams and Aziz Ansari -- but they mostly go to waste from weak writing or direction.

With all the other TV choices robbing MTV of pop-culture status, you'd think the channel hardly could afford not to spend more money developing its shows. (Thirteen-year-olds deserve good production values, too.) And yet ... this.

First up -- following the faded "Pimp My Ride" (it's still on?) -- comes "Nick Cannon Presents: Short Circuitz." It's a sketch-comedy show featuring Cannon, Williams and other skilled comedians. They do dead-on impressions of pop culture figures extremely unfunnily.

Black actors broadly represent an armed robber, inarticulate rappers and courtroom characters. How refreshing.

A sketch about a black hostage negotiator named "the Negrotiator" falls flat. And there is nothing new in a "Judge Judy"-type bit about a guy suing a date after he spent $300 on her dinner, and "that beyotch didn't put out." See how funny that is? Not?

But Paris Hilton does a cameo. How can that go wrong?

Next up is a reality show called "Adventures in HollyHood" starring Three 6 Mafia, the first black rappers to win a best-song Oscar (last year). "Adventures" has promise. As D-listers go, the Memphis musicians come across as natural, amiable guys with a fair amount of talent and wit.

But the show doesn't rise above the played-out setting of putting people with lots of leisure time into a house of cameras and lingering for something to happen.

A white neighbor tries to figure out what Three 6 Mafia's assistant Big Triece is saying when he states his name in his Southern tongue. She thinks he's saying "Big Trees." A hilarious use of TV time?

There's also missed potential in the last of the debuts, "Human Giant." It pains me to say it's not great. One of the stars in this sketch show is one of my favorite budding comedians, Aziz Ansari.

Ansari gets one of my few laughs when he walks through New York holding a boombox playing the worst mix tape ever made for such public consumption (OMC's "How Bizarre," Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart"). MTV discovered the group Human Giant because it was already posting that and other videos online.

There are other good ideas in "Human Giant" and other good performances in "Short Circuitz." But MTV, typically, lets them flounder in cheaply made copycat shows. Then again, what should MTV care, I guess, as long as enough 13-year-olds tune in for the action-movie commercials?

April 1, 2007

BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic

You could insult Frank Soprano Jr. by saying he's just a number cruncher at his family's Chicago-area CPA firm, Soprano & Association. But when he hands credit cards to waiters, his whole world changes for a righteous moment.

"They say, 'Aw, Mr. Soprano!' " Soprano says. "I'm just a little guy getting though life. And everyone's like, 'Mr. Soprano!' "

Since "The Sopranos" is, by now, a cultural reference, he will probably continue to experience this phenomenon, even after the HBO show ends with nine upcoming episodes.

Like a lot of people, Soprano, 37, used to be addicted to the mob-family drama bearing his surname.

"But I think it was the third year it bummed me out. I was like, 'Come on. Start killing more people or something,' " Soprano says.

One time, Soprano overextended his Soprano-"Sopranos" connection. He bought a "Sopranos" video game for his godson. This was a Soprano going one "Sopranos" too far. The game sucked.

"It was like, 'Here's Godfather Soprano -- giving you a piece-of-crap game.' "

Some Chicago restaurants overplayed their "Sopranos" hand, as well. During the first few seasons, they screened new episodes on TVs during Sunday night viewing parties.

HBO issued cease-and-desist letters. The network wanted those customers to go home and pay for HBO.

One of those restaurants was Sopranos on North Sheffield Avenue.

Before the HBO crackdown, the Italian eatery served "bada bing" martinis and printed menus featuring a photo of the "Sopranos" cast posing in the style of Leonardo da Vinci's "The Last Supper."

"That was on the menu," says Sopranos operating manager and "Sopranos" fan Nicole Javell, 27. "People kept them. One family framed it."

The restaurant name is a happy coincidence, she says. Sopranos opened 10 years ago, pre-"Sopranos," named as a nod to vocalists who sing a few octaves past middle E.

To the contrary, though, it's not easy finding an actual soprano or a soprano saxophonist who watches "The Sopranos."

"I don't have cable," says soprano Amy Conn, of Chicago a Cappella.

"I don't have cable," says Kathryn Kamp, another Chicago a Cappella singer.

"I don't have HBO," says Justin May, a local soprano saxophonist. (He also plays alto and tenor sax.)

These sopranos say they're too busy or otherwise interested in live music to watch much TV.

May says it doesn't make financial sense to subscribe to HBO only for "The Sopranos," even if it does feature "obligatory HBO topless scenes."

"None of those shots in the strip club has anything to do with anything, except to remind you, 'Oh right, I'm watching HBO,' " he says.

But until a couple of years ago, the soprano saxophonist, who's 26, did regularly watch and enjoy the show. That was when he was a college student stuck "in a crappy basement with three other guys."

May dug the show's morality issues as they festered among hungry mobster killers and their complicit wives.

This is how interested in mob fiction May's family is: Every Christmas season, they rewatch the entire "Godfather" trilogy together.

"We're all like Texas white trash who don't have nearly enough [motivation] to participate in something like organized crime," he says. "The most we could do is knock over a liquor store. And frankly, we don't dress that well."

Not every "Sopranos" fan is a direct Soprano. Some are honorary Sopranos, like Linda Riccio, who moderates sections of a "Sopranos" fan site, TheSopranos.com, from right here in Chicago.

Riccio, 51, has all kinds of "Sopranos" insights. She grew up in New Jersey neighborhoods where the show is shot. She says it's easier to get sucked in by the show if you recognize Pizzaland, the Passaic River and "the place where we used to make out when we were teenagers.

"If you're not Italian or not from Jersey, you'll never get half of these jokes" in the show, she says.

For one thing, non-Jerseyans may not have understood the time when characters referenced "Jackson whites." When Riccio was a kid, people would threaten, "The Jackson whites will get you."

The urban legend Riccio heard claimed Jackson whites were a "race of mentally handicapped, inbred hemophiliacs," but perhaps they were really just "fetal alcohol" kids "selling old broken bikes and stuff," she says.

This is exactly why "The Sopranos" is authentic, she attests -- particularly the wives, who shop all day in their gaudy clothes and done-up nails; the fathers who always work in waste management, and the macho criminals.

"This is how these guys are: big blowhards. They even talk about how they can have sex with guys in jail," she says. "But somebody tells somebody else Uncle Junior did oral sex on a woman, and it shames him for the rest of his life.

"These guys are like that. They're crazy. Especially these old guys."

So maybe it's not surprising Riccio harbors a golden hope for the final wrap of "The Sopranos" after eight years.

"If I had my dream, all the guys would get killed, and the women would take over," she says.

Carmela Soprano would make a good Godmother, she says. Rosalie could be consigliere. Janice, a soldier. Yada.

But if you're neither a soprano nor a "Sopranos" fan, validation is knowing not even a soprano must care about "The Sopranos." Kamp has no interest in the series finale. She's busy singing the praises of a completely different lifestyle.

"When you do this," the soprano says, "TV is just not interesting."

delfman@suntimes.com

By Doug Elfman
The Game Dork

The moment I understood "MotorStorm" wasn't going to forgive my car-racing mistakes was when I played it online and got outraced by real-life gamers nicknamed JerkHusband and InUrEye. I also got beat by Bart_21. Cowabunga? Really, dude?

But it's worth losing a lot during the learning-curve process of "MotorStorm." It might be the first near-masterpiece made exclusively for the young PlayStation 3.

"MotorStorm" is a series of off-road racecourses. This is a genre that has proved only mildly entertaining over the years. How much fun can it be to jump dirt hills over and over? Usually, not much.

"MotorStorm" makes those previous off-road titles look silly. More than that, it's the most supercool car game since 2004's "Burnout 3: Takedown."

We begin with a vehicle check. Do you want to drive an MX motorcycle, buggy, ATV, truck, "mudplugger" or a "big rig"? You can't go wrong with any of these fine, filthy wheels. They bounce and speed across rough, rocky and muddy terrains oh so sweetly.

And the terrains -- magnifique. The eight tracks are large and gorgeous moving pictures of desert cliffs, valleys and drivable ledges. From the look of roadside fans and their hippie bonfires, the RainGod Mesa racing locales seem a virtual shadow of the Burning Man festival.

You will crash a lot, despite the game's superior, intuitive driving controls, because it's so hard. When you play online, crashes make you lose; you just fall behind so quickly. When you play against offline computer drivers, though, the game is merciful. You can crash, say, six times (and get resurrected each time) and still win a race.

Sumptuous visuals put the fancy new PS 3's computer to serious use. This is great news. PS 3 has been out a few months, while the Xbox 360 is barely more than a year old. But game makers just now have turned a corner, taking advantage of the systems' power to give us even bigger, more beautiful games.

Even hotter-looking than "MotorStorm" is another new game, "Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon Advanced Warfighter 2," an action-battle game where you shoot and direct squad mates to kill terrorists around the world.

If you think "MotorStorm" is muscle-car macho (though you can drive as a few female characters), you should see and hear the grunts of "Warfighter 2."

This dialogue will put hair on your chest: "Can you chatter! And put your foot to the floor!" (while riding to battle); "I'm not gonna blow sunshine up your ..." (your boss assessing your chance of survival); and "Secure your rear" (I can't remember when that order came, since I was laughing at it).

"Warfighter 2" does a fun job of making killing difficult. For a game, it's gritty, entertaining and pretty nearly a battle simulator. Online, it offers team elimination and various other subgames to keep you shooting at rival gamers until you've been shot in the head about 4 zillion times.

By the way, "Tom Clancy" games are bloody right wing. This one's no exception. A TV in your tank shows you news footage of journalists exclaiming you, the good American guys, are actually the bad guys. Your commander barks, "Since when does the news get anything right?"

Well, Mr. Clancy, I'm the news, and the news loves your game. Did I get that wrong, too?

("MotorStorm" retails for $60 for PS 3 -- Plays extremely fun; looks fantastic; challenging; rated "T" for language, violence. Four stars out of four.)

("Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon Advanced Warfighter 2" for $60 for Xbox 360 -- Plays very fun; looks phenomenal; challenging; rated "T" for blood, language, violence. Four stars.)

Doug Elfman
The GAME DORK

In "God of War II," you fight with Zeus-era gods the size of skyscrapers and tear their glowing eyes out of their huge sockets.

Birds the size of eagles pester you, so you jump up high, grab them, step on their backs and rip them in half with your hands.

Everyone tries to kill you. Gods. Dogs. Ogre-type men. Gladiators. And topless Medusas wish to turn you to stone with a glance.

You even travel to hell, where you climb out of the moaning pit. You scale walls with knives in you hands. You inch upward one hand-knife stab at a time, while you slay the arms of the damned, which grasp at you from the walls of hell.

As you can see, "God of War II" is an ambitious, bloody spectacle. It's also the best adventure game since the first "God of War" came out two years ago.

And it's the hardest game to beat in two years, since "Shadow of the Colossus."

I spent an hour killing one of the easier guys. I hit him at least 300 times with chains, knives and fiery arrows while simultaneously fending off six rhino-size monsters clubbing me with axes as the ground was attacking me with couch-size ice picks.

I literally said aloud, "OK, OK! I get it, already, it's hard!"

You play as a Spartan warrior named Kratos. In the original "God of War," Kratos sold his soul to Ares, the god of war, then went on a bloodthirsty streak of murder. One day, while delusional due to one of Ares' ploys, Kratos accidentally killed his wife and child.

So Kratos killed his way through gods, dogs and gladiators, etc., until he killed Ares and took his place as the god of war.

"God of War II" begins with Kratos full of godly hubris during a bitter killing spree. The unhappy gods dethrone him and turn him back into a warrior, so he sets his vengeful sights on Zeus and all the gods and monsters that lead to Zeus.

This is, to say the least, one of the more intricate and interesting story lines in all of video games, which usually lazy-day their way through thin plots or none at all.

The scope is astounding even in comparison to other, impressive gaming experiences. Some games draw up huge cities. Others contain entire kingdoms. "God of War II" gives us a whole civilization, cinematic film clips and stunning artistry.

In the fourth hour (of dozens of hours of game play), I stood on a horse as big as a small mountain. In the background, I saw ocean-based Olympic fortresses as tall as Las Vegas hotels, fronted by carved faces.

I had to explore not just the exteriors of these beautifully ornate fortresses, but scores of rooms and hallways and traps inside. This portion of the game takes up only a tiny fraction of "God of War." That. Is. Intimidating.

The most splendid and glorious element of "God of War II" is its peerless fighting methods. You use dozens of fight moves with the swords/knives attached to your hands ("Blades of Chaos"), a God hammer, magic spells and other means.

The one downside is it's available only for the PlayStation 2, though it does work on a PS 3.

Still, it's the type of magnificent epic that convinces gamers to feel unimpressed by summer adventure movies. You play "God of War II" and think: It must have taken 1,000 people to design this game. Actually, the credits list more than 300.

But it's just one man who gets all the attention, Kratos, who falls from grace early in the game and vows to the gods, "You will pay for this. Be certain of that." Oh, I am.

("God of War II retails for $50 for PS 2 . Also plays in PS 3 systems. Plays as fun as games get; looks spectacular; intensely difficult; rated "M" for blood, gore, intense violence, nudity, sexual themes and strong language. Four stars out of four.)

March 29, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic

Young Henry doesn't bother to remove a waistcloth while presenting his loins and abs of steel to a salacious young mistress. Here in Henry's kingdom by the sea, heads roll; gallantry's on the guillotine. But his passion, in Showtime's "The Tudors," is to put chambermaids and daughters of advisers on their backs and knees. It's good to be the king.

Clearly, this is not the aged Henry VIII of turkey legs and puffy museum portraits. This is Dorian Gray Henry, spoiled by blood and impetuous lust. Someday his bloated portrait will reveal the wrinkles of hedonism. But while it lasts, hedonism is happy fun times.

Thin and playful, the king volleys tennis balls well and never loses at jousting. (Who'd brave execution to plow his lord with a pole?) Sweaty from sport, Henry drips debauchery.

Sex, sex, sex. "The Tudors" implicitly rubs history the right way. The trouble with laced-up, old history stories is we regard them as if they wear chastity belts and aspire to be in Shakespeare's tragedies, which themselves were violent and sensationalistic departures from moral plays during the bard's generation.

Funny how it takes not PBS but cable TV's most expensive pay-cable channels to address bygone eras -- in HBO's just-wrapped "Rome" and now Showtime's "Tudors" -- with narrative texts and tones, more grisly and nuder than what you see in high school classrooms.

In a recent "Rome," a soldier of high rank entered the orgy quarters of a rival peer and didn't deign to glance at enslaved prostitutes being raped at hand. As the two officers conducted business, one unclothed woman wept cautiously on her captor's lap as he forced plum pieces into her quivering mouth.

In "The Tudors," sex is shared mostly among nobles. So it's basically consensual. (Hark, the progress between B.C. Rome and 16th century England.)

Sex isn't always pretty in "The Tudors." Men who operate Henry's court -- not including the Catholic cardinal, who has a wife and children -- merrily send their daughters to Henry's bedchambers in exchange for good tidings.

One of Henry's prey is Mary Boleyn (sister of Anne/ mother of Elizabeth I), who is offered to Henry by her own power-tripped father. Henry gazes at Mary after a long, hard day and asks sweetly, "You've been at the French court for two years. Tell me, what French graces have you learned?"

Henry finds only practical use for his own daughter Mary (the future Queen Mary I). As a little girl, she stands near a castle window while Henry, thinking politically, offers her tiny hand in marriage to Charles V (already the king of Spain and the Holy Roman emperor).

Charles, with his giant chin, squats to smile at the clueless child. "Bravo," he approves and tenderly kisses her cheeks.

Yes, you are correct. This is pretty disgusting behavior among white-white men who ruled the world, saved our language and are considered "great men," while at their feet fell female footnotes, not counting Queen Mary, Elizabeth and a few other noir heroines and scapegoats. (At least the Europeans elevated women rulers).

HBO and Showtime's devilishly detailed treatments of grand histories may be fictional and occasionally farfetched, but even compared to many movie period pieces, they try to give viewers a grittier notion of the daily grind of relatively horrific times.

This is precisely why television critics so often prefer such Deep Cable. It's not soaped up and sanitized for parental and political relief. It is ornate and musky, and not incidentally quite lucrative for the networks.

Complain about the state of entertainment if you will, but the business of American TV is business, and if you follow the money, you'll see not only that breasts and blood sell, but so does intellectual curiosity. Have you listened to the language in "Rome"? It's college-level dialogue, spilling forth from naked actresses and men in tights.

The qualitative difference between "Rome" and "The Tudors" is significant, however. Two seasons of "Rome" cost $100 million to make, supposedly, and it shows in its magnificent and bold breadth. The tighter budget of the 10-part "Tudors" produces smaller sets and less inspired cinematography.

In fact, "The Tudors" suffers from being merely capable on most fronts, a decent diversion. The direction is effective but artistically flat, and so are several scripts.

Good fortune comes primarily from an intense and blunt portrayal of Henry (by Irish actor and Versace "face" Jonathan Rhys Meyers) and a sensible, humanistic depiction of Henry's mentor Sir Thomas More (British-born Jeremy Northam).

It's hard not to spot another comparison between "Rome" and "Tudors": violence of religion. In "Rome," people pray to gods named Forculus and such; they bathe in sacrificial animal blood. In "The Tudors," Jesus is the reason for the season of war, at times. The Church. The Pope. Pending Protestantism. Jesus is love? Blood spills just the same.
All the salacious slithering comes with a legitimate thematic thread. Lust helps the king rein his aggression and think less hotheaded. (But of course. Why would a man want to grip power if he can't get no satisfaction?)

History records Cardinal Thomas Wolsey (Sam Neill) may have encouraged Henry's libidinous appetite to get on his good side. But as "The Tudors" sews this, Henry chills out when he exerts energy with women. Romps slightly temper his thirst for war with French whiners.

The bumper-sticker bottom line: Calm heads of state prefer sex to war -- at the expense of women under them. No matter how much supporting evidence you provide (Hitler's questionable sex drive; peacenik Jimmy Carter's Playboy libido; etc.), you may not find that theory in a deferential textbook. But it's spread all over HBO and Showtime.

March 26, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic

A scrappy little Web site run from suburban Chicago is giving "American Idol" and fans fits. It's the second most popular "Idol"-related site -- right behind "Idol's" official site. And it's inspiring death threats and promises of lawsuits against its owner.

The David and Goliath goal of VoteForTheWorst.com is to convince people to vote for the worst singer every week.

It's getting noticed. Last week, site owner Dave Della Terza, 24, chatted on Howard Stern's show. The site served as fodder for morning TV chatter. On "Letterman," Paula Abdul called the site "just terrible."

Support from Stern fans and "Idol" bashers appears to be helping contestant Sanjaya Malakar, the 17-year-old Washington state kid with the flowy hair and thin voice. Before last Tuesday's show, the site pleaded, "If we can move him ONE more week into the top 10, he'll go on tour."

Sanjaya then proceeded to get enough votes to make it to the final 10.

The answers to your first questions are (a) Della Terza's job is teaching TV-related courses at College of DuPage; (b) no, he has never auditioned for "Idol," though he did try to work in Hollywood once, and (c) yes, many "Idol" fans hate him.

After Sanjaya got another VFTW-related reprieve last week, Della Terza received 1,000 e-mails the next day. Many were nasty -- enough that he prefers not to be too specific about where he lives.

"I get so many creepy e-mails from people," he says. "They're like, 'I'm gonna hunt you down and kill you.'

"People take this show so seriously. It's just a cheesy entertainment-reality show."

VoteForTheWorst is serious to a point, Della Terza says. "But we don't care that much. If Sanjaya is to go home next week, oh, well. We'll move on to someone else," he says.

"I hope he doesn't, because that's hilarious. His performance on Tuesday night was the funniest performance ever [thanks to] the crying girl [fan] and [Sanjaya's] jumping around onstage."

Also last Tuesday, contestant Chris Sligh -- the curly-haired guy wearing glasses -- said, "Hi, Dave" onstage. Previous to this, VFTW suggested it was bored with Sligh but would back him if he said "Hi, Dave" on the air, Della Terza boasts.

"So now, I love Chris Sligh. He had the balls of steel to say something 'American Idol' hates," Della Terza says.

VFTW may already have helped produce an "Idol." Last year, the site backed Taylor Hicks. He won. Afterward, fans of both the singer and the site went to a Hicks concert with a VFTW T-shirt. The "Idol" victor merrily posed with the shirt for a photo.

That picture is the first thing you see at VoteForTheWorst.com.

"I'm glad Taylor understands it was a joke," Della Terza says. "The thing I like about him and some of the contestants is they get the show is cheesy and corny."

Della Terza, who went to Northern Illinois University, swears his mission isn't to destroy "Idol."

"We do want to expose the show," he says. "It's definitely a very manipulated TV show, and people don't get that."

This season, he thinks, producers wanted, say, Melinda Doolittle to do well so she could sell lots of records, but they wanted Sanjaya for good TV. He's thrilled "Idol" has to take Sanjaya on its concert tour.

"Now people have to listen to Sanjaya," Della Terza says. "You're paying to see a giant karaoke contest."

The downside to VFTW is the loads of "idiotic" e-mails Della Terza receives.

"It's the same letter over and over basically," he says. "The only ones I write back to are the ones that are really stupid. And I write back, like, 'Your mom.' "

Fans of specific contestants blame VFTW when someone like Sanjaya stays put and someone more talented gets booted.

"We're like, 'No. You made Stephanie Edwards go home, because you didn't vote for her' " enough, he says. "You can't blame us for voting for one person."

All kinds of people threaten to sue him.

"It always makes me laugh when you think it's an e-mail from a teenager, and then at the bottom it says their law firm name," he says. "If these lawsuits materialized, we'd have 50 to 100 lawsuits a week."

He mocks these e-mails: " 'Yeah I'm suing you, because Sanjaya is bad.' OK, let's see how this court case goes. I'll represent myself," he says.

Della Terza claims Fox once issued a cease-and-desist order demanding he take copyrighted "Idol" material off his site, a move Fox confirms.

"Millions of fans of 'American Idol' vote for their favorites each season," the network proclaims in a statement, "and that success speaks far louder than the specious ramblings of any mean-spirited and insignificant Web site."

Della Tersa is undeterred. "They're as dumb as the 12-year-olds that write to us," he says.

"All we're doing is getting people to watch their show. ... You're idiots. We're [earning] you money for the sponsors!"

Fave shows just a click away
Don't bother picking up your remote control. Your favorite shows are online, convenient, free.

March 25, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
It's becoming easier and easier to watch TV without a TV. If you miss an episode of "Lost," you can go to ABC.com to watch not only the most recent episode, but also six others posted there. They're free to watch, unlike shows on $2-an-episode iTunes.
You can't download every TV series online. Fox doesn't post "American Idol," "The Simpsons" or "Family Guy" on MySpace.com/Fox. But you can see 13 other shows there, from "24" to "Bones" and "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?"
NBC.com serves up 13 series, including every episode of "Heroes." At ABC.com, you can prowl 12 series. CBS.com streams 19.
Certain series aren't online because the studios that film them have yet to sign a contract with TV networks. ("Criminal Minds" would be on CBS.com if CBS owned the show, or if CBS could reach an agreement with owner Paramount.)
An upside to surfing shows: Online, they aren't bundled with as many commercials as on TV. And you can pause, rewind and fast-forward with ease.
A downside: The CW posts most of its series, but CWTV.com's online video player pauses roughly for my Mac and ruins the experience. Same deal with ComedyCentral.com.
There's another catch. To handle the size of videos, you need a good and fairly new PC or Mac. My year-old laptop at home streams fine; my decade-old Mac at the office won't even think about running this stuff. Your computer also needs to be equipped with viewing software, which can be downloaded free through the network sites.

Here's what was online as of last week:

ABC.COM
• "According to Jim": Four episodes
• "Brothers & Sisters": 16 episodes
• "Dancing With the Stars": One episode
• "Desperate Housewives": Four episodes
• "Day Break": 12 episodes including the season finale
• "Grey's Anatomy": Four episodes
• "Knights of Prosperity": Nine episodes
• "Lost": Seven episodes
• "Men in Trees": Two episodes
• "Six Degrees": Four episodes
• "Ugly Betty": Six episodes
• "What About Brian?": 17 episodes
BONUS VIDEO ONLINE

• Behind the scenes at "General Hospital" and other soaps.
• Brief clips of "The View," "Good Morning America," "World News," "Primetime," "Nightline," "This Week" and "20/20."
• Snippets of late-night and primetime series.

NBC.COM
• "30 Rock": Five episodes
• "Andy Barker, P.I.": Six episodes, and most haven't aired on TV yet
• "The Apprentice": Eight episodes
• "The Black Donnellys": Four episodes, plus a fifth with cast and crew commentary, DVD-style
• "Friday Night Lights": 18 episodes
• "Heroes": 18 episodes
• "Las Vegas": 17 episodes from this season, plus all of last season
• "Medium": Two episodes
• "My Name is Earl": One episode
• "Passions": Five episodes
• "Raines": One episode
• "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip": Four episodes
BONUS VIDEOS

• Tina Fey answers viewers' questions on video.
• Jay Leno shows off his bike.
• Jim Gaffigan does the animated "Pale Force" with Conan O'Brien.

CBS.COM
• "48 Hours Mystery": Three episodes
• "Armed & Famous": Four episodes
• "As the World Turns": One episode
• "CBS Evening News": Five episodes
• "The Class": One episode
• "CSI": Four episodes
• "CSI: Miami": Three episodes
• "CSI: New York": Four episodes.
• "Face the Nation": One episode
• "How I Met Your Mother": Four episodes
• "Jericho": 16 episodes
• "NCIS": Four episodes
• "The New Adventures of Old Christine": Six episodes
• "Numb3rs": Four episodes
• "Rules of Engagement": Six episodes
• "Shark": One episode
• "Survivor: Fiji": Five episodes
• "The Unit": One episode
BONUS VIDEO ONLINE

• Exclusives like "Animate This!"
• Super Bowl commercials.
• Loads of fan-friendly clips, interviews and recaps of "various daytime, prime-time and late night shows, plus behind-the-scenes looks at "The Price Is Right," "Survivor" and other series.
• Extras focusing on the Grammys and a Victoria's Secret event.
• Recaps of Letterman's top 10 lists, monologues and other highlights.

MYSPACE.COM/FOX
(only the most recent of each)
"24"

• "American Dad"
• "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?"
• "Bones"
• "The Loop"
• "The O.C."
• "Prison Break"
• "Standoff"
• "Talkshow with Spike Feresten"
• "'Til Death"
• "Vanished"
• "The War at Home"
• "The Winner"
BONUS ONLINE VIDEOS
Not much, unless you go to AmericanIdol.com to watch selected recaps.


CWTV.COM
• "All of Us": Four episodes
• "America's Next Top Model": Two episodes
• "Everybody Hates Chris": Four episodes
• "The Game": Five episodes
• "Girlfriends": Four episodes
• "One Tree Hill": Two episodes
• "Pussycat Dolls Present: The Search for a New Doll": One episode
• "Supernatural": Four episodes
• "Veronica Mars": Two episodes
>BONUS VIDEO ONLINE
• "Top Model" outtakes
• Outtakes from director and creator commentaries for "Everybody Hates Chris" and other shows.

THE REST
COMEDYCENTRAL.COM
Plenty of episodes online, but (at least on my Mac) the media player jumps and pauses too much to enjoy them.

ESPN.COM: Extensive video clips of interviews, commentaries and game recaps. But it can be choppy video.

FXNETWORKS.COM: No FX episodes online.

HBO.COM: No episodes online, although, Bill Maher's "Overtime" episodes keep his "Real Time" guests on the set to chat and answer viewers' real-time questions at length.

MTV.COM: Full episodes of most original shows are not online but are available through iTunes. "The Andy Milonakis Show" begins its third season on MTV2 April 27, yet the entire new season is already buyable at iTunes ($10 for the season; $2 per episode; first episode free).

PBS.ORG: No episodes online.

SHO.COM: No episodes online.

TBS.COM: Has the full seasons of "My Boys" and "10 Items or Less," but only for Windows-equipped PC users.

TNT.TV: Nothing online -- not even "The Closer."

March 23, 2007

BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
I once screened "Babe: Pig in the City" for a girlfriend named Tiffany. Halfway through the lovely but dark movie, a stray kitten cries to other emaciated animals, "I'm hungry." Tiffany jumped from the couch. Tears screamed out of her face. I had to turn the movie off. She must have wept for 20 minutes.
Here's my message to Tiffany. This new Discovery Channel series called "Planet Earth" -- don't watch it. You'll cry your eyes out from all the animals getting killed and eaten, not to mention the tiny elephant calf who wanders, blinded by a sandstorm, away from mom, in an empty desert, to a certain, lonely death.
"Planet Earth" will break. Your. Heart. It broke mine.
Bravo to you people who can watch these animal shows. You're a steady bunch. Animals bite into animals while they're still alive. Bears fish for food in globally warmed environments that are melting away.
Disney would call this "The Circle of Life." I call it "The Circle of Death."
"Planet Earth" is a work of art, though. It's gorgeously shot in high definition. Five years in the making, the 11 episodes focus on the lives of nonhumans in their habitats around the globe.
The scope is pretty crazy. Seventy-one camera operators spent a cumulative 2,000 days sneaking into polar bear habitats, African deserts, caves, seas -- you name it. They used 40:1 zoom lenses and a gyro-stabilized helicopter camera to shoot intimate scenes up to a mile away, trying not to disturb living things.
Some scenes are unprecedented. You hear narrator Sigourney Weaver say stuff like this a lot: For the first time, the entire journey of a deaf and blind polar bear cub is caught on film. And: A cameraman spent 45 days in hiding to get a few minutes of footage of a male, six-plumed bird of paradise in New Guinea.
Fox News viewers can rest assured. Al Gore does not show up with a flow chart in a cave or on an ice cap. "Planet Earth" is not an explicit political statement about how we need to take action to stop the planet from eroding.
But there are endangered species everywhere, and environs are vanishing to the point that, say, polar bears seem doomed. This is the way the world is. If you resurrected "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom" with Marlin Perkins, it too would spot Earth in reverse. There's just no getting around it.
It's simply a fact when Weaver says of Amur leopards, "The future of the entire species hangs on the survival of a handful of mothers and cubs."
For sure, the killing is overkill. Orchestral music (though striking) sounds ominously when wolves dine on caribou. You could say this is a music score for Darwinism. But then, every carnivorous animal preys on another. You could play ominous music over me eating a hamburger. Cows die somehow for my belly.
It's certainly not all death and destruction. Most images are just beautiful frames of rarely seen or never seen jungles, avalanches and reefs. Feel free to "eww" and "aww" at super cute monkeys, penguins, cubs, wild baby pandas, majestic golden eagles, oriental pheasants, arctic foxes, fur seals, and on and on.
But you may not want to watch this series if you get irrationally sad watching a hungry snow leopard bite into a lovely markhor in the Himalayas, because without freshly slaughtered dinner, the mother leopard's young cub will starve and die. The Circle of Death is a ravenous, desperate sphere.

March 23, 2007

'AMERICAN IDOL'
It's mind-blowing how the best singers are constantly being voted off. There's no way that Sanjaya, Haley or Gina should still be there. THEY CANNOT SING.
-Lena, Hillside

Gina wasn't so sure about the performance, but she did an awesome job regardless. I'm not a big Blake fan, but I was little surprised he didn't overdo it with the beatboxing, and even though he didn't show off his voice, if he even has one, I like the way he made the song his own.
-David, South Side

Stephanie being eliminated was a travesty. As cute as he is, Sanjaya should be gone. "Top Model's" Renee should go just because!!! What a WITCH!!!!
-Anna, Chatham

Melinda continues to perform at a level far above the other singers!! I would pay to listen to her in concert.
-Jim, Park Ridge

Sanjaya needs to go home NOW!
-Kathie, Lemont

'SURVIVOR: FIJI'
So long Anthony! I guess nice guys do finish last. Can someone get Rocky a muzzle?
-Melissa, Oak Lawn

'AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL'
The panel telling the "model" that her "dead shot" was DEAD had to be one of the funniest moments on TV this year.
-Michael, Roseland

March 22, 2007

'THE PUSSYCAT DOLLS PRESENT: THE SEARCH FOR THE NEXT DOLL'
It can best be described as a sleazy, R-rated, amateur mixture of "American Idol" and "Dancing With the Stars." That being said, with half-clothed bodies gyrating and half-minded girls complaining, this show is more fun than "Idol" and "DWTS" combined.
Jonathan, Lake View

'AMERICAN IDOL'
Sanjaya Malakar was horrible again! The best performances of the night belonged to Jordin Sparks and Melinda Doolittle. One of these ladies will be the next "American Idol"!
Caesar, Matteson

March 22, 2007
Thanks to a Chicago Sun-Times horoscope, outspoken "The View" host Rosie O'Donnell has a new label. She is "quietly confident."
Rosie kept referring to herself as such after "View" comrade Barbara Walters repeated the phrase from Wednesday's horoscope entry, "IF MARCH 21 IS YOUR BIRTHDAY," by astrologer Georgia Nicols. The women were celebrating O'Donnell's 45th birthday.
Walters: "Here is her official horoscope from the Chicago Sun-Times . . . 'You definitely explore new turf.'"
Joy Behar piped up: "Does she ever!"
Walters: "You are quietly confident and march to your own drummer."
O'Donnell: "Quietly confident? I think 'quietly' is the wrong adjective. Or is that an adverb?"
Behar gave the birthday girl a toy dump truck with a Donald Trump photo fixed to its windshield. "Very creative, Joy," O'Donnell said, holding her tongue for once. "I'm being quietly confident."

March 21, 2007
'DANCING WITH THE STARS'
John Ratzenberger gained weight. Joey Fatone wants to lose weight. Heather Mills' leg stayed on. No one knows Shandi Finnessey.
-Sharon, Archer Heights

'24'
Jack learns that Audrey's "bit the dust,"
And CTU has had their trust
Invaded by an in-house spy,
While Daniels wants Muslims to die!
-Shelly, Northbrook

Last night's episode was weak -- at best. They had nothing about Logan being stabbed last week, which was the cliffhanger. Killing off Audrey in such a lame fashion did nothing for the show as well. Hopefully they get back on track next week.
-Sean, East Dundee

Undetectable nukes? Bah. A gung-ho president? Next. Wrathful Jack? CTU just joined the list of Bauer-betrayers. Whoops. Was that before they knew he pilots nukes?
Eric, La Grange

Rick Schroder showed he has come a long way since "Silver Spoons" and helped Jack stop one of the drone aircraft carrying a nuclear device.
-John, Bridgeport

Did you see "American Idol" on Tuesday night? How about "Pussycat Dolls" or "Tori & Dean"? E-mail us your review in 25 words or less to delfman@suntimes.com by noon today. Include your full name and neighborhood. The best reader reviews may make their way into Thursday's paper.

March 20, 2007
Review Monday night's "24" or "Dancing With the Stars" for us in 25 words or less. Just e-mail delfman@suntimes.com by noon today. Attach a photo of your face if you want your image considered for publication. Include your full name and neighborhood. The best reader reviews may make their way into Wednesday's paper.

March 20, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times

The Most Talented One
Melinda Doolittle, 29, Brentwood, Tenn.
A few weeks ago, Doolittle dialed up an overcooked song no one ever wanted to hear again, "My Funny Valentine." But she sang a sublime arrangement. It was the best performance of the sixth season.
Serious musicians are probably voting for her since she's a professional backup singer and studied music in college. She's humble on camera, too. She's like a cross between Miss American Idol and Miss Congeniality.

The Tall, Smiling Woman Who Sings Kind of Well
Jordin Sparks, 17, Glendale , Ariz.
She sings a step above a good cruise-ship crooner. Some of her song choices have been sappy from the Celine level. (Celine Dion is a sweetheart in person, but her English-language songs? Syrupy.) So. Sparks will probably win.

The Biggest Voice
LaKisha Jones, 27, Fort Meade, Md.
Judge Simon Cowell keeps saying this is a race between Doolittle and Jones. He'd be right if "Idol" voters at home actually voted for the best singers.
Jones has a larger voice than Doolittle, but she never rearranges a song. Impressive as she is, she doesn't personalize melodies. She also never says much. That may appear to voters like she's not excited enough or too certain of victory.

The Local
Gina Glocksen, 22, Naperville
Here's how lame "Idol" is. Glocksen is the rocker of the bunch. She sang Heart's 1987 power ballad "Alone." That doesn't make her a rocker. Singing Peaches' "Tent in Your Pants" would have rocked the house.
She's a pretty good singer. You gotta love the tongue stud. But her odds of winning are low. Then again, Chris Daughtry was the rocker last year. He lost. And now he's got one of the best-selling albums in America. Glocksen could try that route if she loses.

The Guy Who Looks Most MTV-Ready
Chris Richardson, 22, Chesapeake, Va.
Jackson thinks he's better than Jason Mraz, but Richardson sings worse than many pro singers in Chicago. Some of his song choices are contemporary, though. And he's got a good facial structure and hairline. Ergo, he'll get a record deal.

The One Who Gets the Military Vote
Phil Stacey, 29, Jacksonville, Fla.
He's the bald son of a preacher man who got sympathy for singing in Navy bands and auditioning on the day his wife gave birth to their second kid. He's a weak singer.

The Curly Hair Guy
Chris Sligh, 28, Greenville, S.C.
He has the most distinctive hair. He may also be the best male singer left, which makes him the seventh-best singer in the finals.

The One the Judges Hate
Sanjaya Malakar, 17, Federal Way, Wash.
Somehow, Sanjaya has stayed on yet another week. He has a light voice. The judges keep implying they don't know how in the world he's gotten this far. But why were they the ones who put him through to the final 24?
He should have kept his hair straight. (See photo.) The minute he went curly, he started getting voted into the lower ranks.

The One Who Uses a Human Beat Box to Mask His Non-Talent
Blake Lewis, 25, Bothell , Wash.
Blah-ke did an impression of a DJ ripping a record while singing horrible Jamaroquai's horrible "Virtual Insanity." Cowell was the only judge to bust Lewis for being a big "copycat" loser, because Paula Abdul and Randy Jackson were earless.

The One Who Cried Her Way to the Top 11
Haley Scarnato, 24, San Antonio
There was a "Simpsons" where a bad girl told Bart she could get away with anything by weeping. Meet Haley Scarnato. She murdered a song, she forgot lyrics, the judges dumped on her, but she cried and didn't get voted into the bottom three.

The Hot One Who Also Can Sing
Stephanie Edwards, 19, Savannah, Ga.
Edwards is the only one who's completely MTV-ready. She has done a very good job of covering Beyonce and Alicia Keyes. She doesn't rearrange their hits. But at least you can hear her tuneful, contemporary vocalizations.

March 18, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Very few people have complained about how they were portrayed in the radio show "This American Life," host Ira Glass says. But now that Glass is fronting a TV version of "This American Life" on Showtime, he's worried about how some very specific, fellow Chicagoans will view a certain upcoming segment.
He's anxious about a story in the sixth episode, regarding the Wiener's Circle hot dog stand on North Clark.
"The customers and the people of the staff yell at each other," Glass says. "When I say that, you picture a kind of, like, cutesy ... sitcom.
"But in fact, it was so profoundly ugly," he says. "You feel like 200 years of, like, racial division in the city of Chicago have totally come to the surface. It's white customers and a black staff, and it gets incredibly intense and incredibly racial.
"I love those guys, and I love that place, and I feel like I appreciate what they're doing," he says. But "I'm a little scared about the hot dog guys' [reaction]."
Glass -- who launched "This American Life" in 1995 at Chicago's WBEZ-FM (91.5) and co-owns it with the station -- rejected earlier offers to turn his public radio show into a TV series.
"We said to Showtime what we had said to everybody else, which was, like, 'We know nothing about making moving images. And we won't do it unless you find filmmakers who can explain to us how this will happen, and what it would look like, and what it would be. And they have to be filmmakers who we respect.' "
But then, Showtime came back with an offer involving producer Christine Vachon, someone Glass knew in college, and respected.
"They called our bluff," he says.
PBS never approached Glass. And he never considered going with PBS
"Public television is terrible," Glass, 48, says. "It's just not that interesting most of time. There are a couple [great] shows. I love 'Frontline.' "
He considers public TV a good idea with not enough money to operate quickly and smoothly, and it's more "beholden to corporate interest than commercial TV."
"A network like Showtime -- they say, 'Come on. We're going. We're going.' And then they can write the check, and basically we're in production."
Glass did expect Showtime -- the network of nudity, as well as high-quality programming -- to ask him to sex up "This American Life."
"We kept waiting for the memo where they would say ... 'Yeah, yeah, this is good. When do the girls take off their tops?'
"And, you know, that never happened."

March 18, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Ira Glass looks like an alien. Not just any alien. He looks like a shape-shifter who watched too many "Twilight Zones" from space, plus a few Elvis Costello videos, and then descended upon the earth to hypnotize humans with fascinating true yarns, told in the storytelling style of your favorite literature professor.
In his new "Showtime" series, "This American Life," he wears his Costello glasses and a Rod Serling suit, so sly. He sits at a desk -- sometimes situated all alone in the middle of a white salt flat in Utah, sometimes placed near a breast of a Colorado mountain, sometimes in a car garage.
The alien doesn't really talk. It's more of a curious, intellectual conversation he's having.
"Today," he says from the garage, introducing a segment, "we have a story about this guy who gets behind a camera, and he's filming some people he knows very, very well. He couldn't know these people better actually. It's his own family."
If a journalist were to rewrite this "guy who gets behind a camera" segment, to fit the efficient formula of TV news or the Associated Press, it would lose its rapture. It would be more like:
"A Van Nuys man has made a documentary about his family, and in the process, he experienced a revelation about how his mother and stepfather neglected him while they were hooked on drugs and alcohol. What went wrong?" (Ick.)
Listeners of public radio understand the appeal of Glass, the charming alien. "This American Life" is the most enthralling thing on talk radio. Glass and his massive crew renovated sound itself into a lush portraiture of meandering lives as heard in 20-minute and hourlong features.
It is understandable some radio fans fretted the transition of "This American Life" to TV. But people worry too much.
Let's skip to the fourth episode. It's about a guy who paints Jesus over and over. Painter Guy has to find models to pose as Jesus and pals. Specifically, he needs dudes with beards. So he talks bearded homeless guys and bearded recreational-drug users into hanging around all day on crucifixes and on biblically large rocks.
One beardy guy who's done up like Judas contemplates how he himself strayed from religion to become a "Jack Mormon" and how religion is like Wal-Mart. And then he gets this surprised look in his eyes, like, "I'm here to pose as Judas! Bizarre."
"I don't even know how much I'm really into the whole Bible thing altogether," Beardy Judas Guy says. "Dude [the painter] just came up to me and he's like, 'Hey. You look like Judas.' And I'm like, 'I guess that's a compliment.' So, you know, why not, man? Can't really deny the world of their Judas."
The look of the TV version of "This American Life" is geniusly framed. The main players (Glass, producer Christine Vachon, director Chris Wilcha and cinematographer Adam Beckman) spent many months experimenting with cameras and interviewing techniques.
What they settled on was one camera. On a tripod. It's often set up far away from the regular people in each segment. But I guess camera operators zoom in to get close-ups and other shots. This creates a painterly frame, like a still photograph. And the distance of the camera seems to ease interviewees, not having lenses in their faces.
And they talk. And talk. And talk. In the most intimate, freeform ways.
There's the bull owner who raises a clone of his dead beloved bull, a one-time "Letterman" guest. (This is one of the few segments that already aired on the radio show.)
There's the woman who reads from a diary she kept at 13; she recites her long-ago, teenage thoughts about snorting coke with drug-dealer boyfriends while trying not to get pregnant. ("Oh well.")
It's all very intriguing and oddly funny at unexpected moments.
The first four episodes don't turn up any deep, comical musings of radio show guests Sarah Vowell and David Sedaris. But Alien Glass has said they'll appear in future episodes; they just couldn't figure out yet which of their wry writings would work on TV, and shy Sedaris doesn't want to be on camera.
The show doesn't suffer without them. It's really kind of a glorious little miracle, a half-hour series of little pictures of simple, complex and unfamous Americans breathing everyday lives, with a twist of kookiness, while they search for the Meaning of Everything and The Big Picture.
In the second episode, there's a beautifully framed scene of a gun on the bedroom counter of an old woman's apartment. Her hand brushes near it. She plucks up her lipstick and puckers at her reflection in a pink, old-person's sweater.
The weapon is a prop. The woman is an actor for the first time in her life. She's making a movie with other old people in her 55-and-up condo building. They hope their amateur film will land at the Sundance Film Festival.
If not for "This American Life," where else would you see or hear their long, patient story?
Watching those old people, I was reminded of what it is about the radio show that gets me every time. A lot of the magic is Alien Glass, and the similar vocal stylings of his guest truthsayers, and the creepy, cool music that interludes, and the silky narrative flow.
But what gets me every time, the secret sauce, are the startling reminders of how profound life is in ordinary detail.
The old people who just want to make a movie -- they're a cute little charcoal sketch. But their story is also alarmingly about death (pending), the death of youth, the resurrection of dreams -- and best/worst of all, the notion that hope is worthy of enduring, despite all blunt evidence to the contrary.

By Doug Elfman
The Game Dork

I do enjoy comparing video games to art, ex-girlfriends and philosophy. But a whole slate of sports and fighting games just came out, so I need to cut to the bone this week.
• "Def Jam: Icon" -- This is the coolest fighting game in a while. You portray Ghostface Killah and other rappers who beat on each other in real settings, like gas stations and penthouses.
Heavy beats of their rap songs cause earthquake shakes and rattling buildings. Even better, you throw rivals into obstacles, such as a gas pump, scratch music like a DJ, and the gas pump blows up and tosses your rival (on fire!) through the air.
It retails for $60 for PS 2 and Xbox 360. Plays very fun, alone or online; looks great; it's difficult; rated "M" for blood, strong lyrics and violence. Four stars out of four.

• "Virtua Fighter 5" -- This sequel in the street-fighting series doesn't offer much new, but it does a capable job of resurrecting "Virtua Fighter" characters and their signature punches and kicks for the PlayStation 3 for the first time.
It retails for $60 for PS 3. Plays pretty fun, like an old-school fighter (but lacks online gaming); looks very good; it's moderately difficult; rated "T" for suggestive themes and violence. Three stars.

• "Major League Baseball 2K7" -- Fantastic baseball. The game play is very easy to figure out, but not too easy to win. Pitching is particularly sweet. And there are 300 real player attributes. For instance, New York Yankees pitcher Chien-Ming Wang takes forever to finish his windup.
Retails for $60 for PS 3 and Xbox 360; $30 for PS 2 and Xbox; and $40 for PSP. Plays addictively fun alone or against gamers online; looks great; it's moderately difficult; rated "E." Four stars.

• "NBA Street Homecourt" -- Draft your own streetball teams, such as the trio of Kobe Bryant, Shaquille O'Neal and Jason Kidd. This is like old "Street" games (20-foot-high dunks, etc.), except it was made for high-definition Xbox 360 and PS 3, so the look is even more lifelike.
Retails for $60 for Xbox 360 and PS 3. Plays fun in a limited way (there's not much gaming beyond crazy trick plays); looks awesome; it's easy to moderately difficult; rated "E." Two and one-half stars.

• "MVP '07 NCAA Baseball" -- This is one of the worst-looking baseballers on the market. Players look like bad cartoons. But if you're looking for a workhorse game and don't mind the butt-ugliness, "MVP" plays similar to just-fine baseball games from 2002.
Retails for $30 for PS 2. Plays passably OK; looks yucky; it's easy to moderately difficult; rated "E." Two stars.

• "MLB '07: The Show" -- This baseballer would have been great five years ago. Now, it seems old, looks silly and relies on very old game play mechanics where you pitch by plotting points on an arc.
Retails for $40 for PS 2 and PSP. Plays poorly (but offers online gaming); looks archaic; it's moderately difficult; rated "E." One star.

• "Winning Eleven: Pro Evolution Soccer 2007"-- "Winning Eleven" used to be the best soccer game, but this winter that honor goes to "FIFA Soccer '07" (three and one-half stars), a superior-looking game that makes dribbling easier.
Retails for $50 for Xbox, $40 for PS 2 and PSP; $30 for DS. Plays OK; looks poor; it's moderately difficult; rated "E." Two stars.

"Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam."
The Impressive Clergyman
in "The Princess Bride"

March 16, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
Jealousy isn't usually a topic the U.S. government talks about. But last year, the Centers for Disease Control said jealousy is a main factor in a lot of American murders.
Here's a killer stat. One of every three murdered women is slain by her squeeze or an ex. Men are luckier. Only 5 percent of men die of love (not counting suicide). So if you're wedded and you have bullets at home, good luck with that.
Certain death at the hands of a loved one is the gist of many episodes of the various "Law & Orders" and "CSIs." But it's the only motive in " 'Til Death Do Us Part."
"Death" is a new half-hour drama on murder-happy Court TV. Fiction on Court TV might not sound right. But this week, the channel said in 2008 it will have a new name (not yet announced) and more reality shows, too.
Every week, "Death" tells the story of a different couple's voyage from wedded bliss to brutal murder to body disposal. It's not a great show, but it's a good concept.
Campy filmmaker John Waters charmingly introduces and concludes each installment with a Hitchcockian stand-up. At the wedding in the second episode, Waters (as "The Groom Reaper") eyes the smiling couple.
"Although they're both riding in the front of the hearse today, in just six years one of them will be riding in the back," he says.
The production values on "Death" look a step above a Cinemax sex flick. And the actors mostly sound like they're just reading the script. They don't put any chill or humor in the promising dialogue.
A manipulative wife spurns her sex-pleading husband: "Remember the last time you wanted to 'get down' during lunch?" Her older, frustrated husband replies, "I smiled for a week?"
The first two episodes are predictable and suspense-free. You can tell quickly which spouse is probably gonna get extinguished by a sharp knife or a bag over the head. There's no excuse for that. If you watch a "Law & Order" episode about a domestic murder, its storytelling will keep you guessing for most of the hour.
But "Death" does make you wonder why there aren't more crime shows about love and marriage, which is Public Enemy No. 2 or 3, according to CDC stats and police reports. Ask any cop about domestics.
Or you can ask your partner if he's planning to put you in a coffin. Surely he'll be honest with you, since he loves you so much.

WHAT ELSE IS ON?

"Friday Night Lights" (6 p.m., Bravo): One of the most critically acclaimed shows of the year hasn't been a big hit. Now NBC's cable station, Bravo, gives it extra exposure by running the first season through March -- at 6 p.m. Fridays and 2-5 p.m. Saturdays.

"Intervention" (9 p.m., A&E): The reality show starts a third season of friends and family confronting their addled beloveds. Up first: Dude's all jacked up on OxyContin.

"1 vs. 100" (7 p.m., WMAQ-Channel 5): Bob Saget wraps up the game show's successful first season. At 8 p.m., Penn Jillette's game show "Identity" returns.

March 15, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
You watch "October Road," the new series after "Grey's Anatomy" on ABC, and you pick up wit and wisdom along the way, because life is special, hopeful, yearning and ... ah, I'm just joshin' ya.
"October Road" is such a rote TV drama, I'm gonna make fun of it for 500 words. Enjoy!
This is a you-can't-go-home-again show. A guy named Nick flees his tiny hometown at age 18 for a backpacking trip and doesn't go back until he's 28. He returns as a best-selling author of a novel that dished dirt on his sketchy friends and the girlfriend he abandoned in that town.
Here's some of the wit and wisdom I was talking about, from the first two episodes.
A woman says: "The past is like a pimple on prom night, Eddie. You can try and ignore it, but it's still gonna prevent Jimmy Wiper from slow dancing with you during your favorite Boys II Men song." (The guy she's convoluting to looks like he's just now getting the meaning of life.)
A 10-year-old boy says to his mom and Nick: "Whatever you two have going on with each other, why don't I delicately extract myself and order some [drinks]." (Yes, 10-year-olds talk just like that, all the time.)
What's special about fictional Knights Ridge, Mass., is it's a super small town of coincidences. It takes only two minutes for Nick to run into both his old nemesis and his ex-girlfriend Hannah ("That '70s Show's" Laura Prepon), who's steamed at him for escaping town years ago.
Nick (Bryan Greenberg) coincidentally drives by Hannah's house while she's kissing a guy in the yard. In another episode, Nick's walking by her house and glances through a window, and she's coincidentally kissing the guy again. Those two should move their game to the boudoir.
Nick is supposed to be in town for only 24 hours. But if he goes back to New York, "October Road" doesn't happen. Gee, you think he'll give up the big city, fame and fawning hot girls to stay in pokeyville?
He's motivated to stay partly because he's crushing on his ex. Also, she has a little boy he suspects is their love child, the precocious little 10-year-old bastard.
In the first episode, Nick does a lot in one day. Those sketchy old friends invite him back into their air-guitar band, which they never disbanded. Gee, I wonder what song they'll air-play now that their old bud's come back. Oh, please, please, let it be "The Boys Are Back in Town."
"October Road" is at home at ABC, which is lately a big fan of middling, suburban, light dramas about upper-middle-class people whose hearts ache for meaning and unrequited fantasies ("Grey's," "Brothers & Sisters," "Desperate Housewives," "Men in Trees," "What About Brian").
Nick sure aches. He supposes: "How do you reconcile the past with the present when you don't really feel comfortable with either one?"
Here's an idea for Nick. Suck it up, bro. You're a well-off writer with ladies at your feet. Do you truly want to move home, with your spacy dad, spiteful ex-best friend and angry ex-girlfriend? Really? Then you're a dolt, and I have no use for you unless you take that college girl you're eyeing on a picnic and feed her grapes and stroke her hair.

March 14, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
NBC should consider scrapping Thursday's first episode of "Andy Barker, P.I." As much as I like star Andy Richter, the premiere drips slowly into its introductory premise without a payoff: A CPA accidentally becomes a private eye.
Instead, NBC should run next week's planned episode. It's funny and fresh. The third episode is good stuff, too.
There is precedent for completely killing a new series' first 30 minutes. Last season, ABC shelved the terrible first dose of Freddie Prinze Jr.'s sitcom "Freddie" to open with the second episode, which was at least average.
In "Andy," naive Andy Barker becomes a private dick after he opens a CPA business in an office space formerly occupied by a detective. Clients straggle into Andy's place, mistake him for a gumshoe and drop money in his lap. He can't resist a new, exciting lifestyle.
I'm going to ignore most of what happens in Thursday's planned debut. Andy helps a blond in distress in a red dress. He thinks "Chinatown" starred Jackie Chan. Rather than swear, he says, "Oh, cheese and crackers!" It feels like a long sketch on Conan O'Brien's show. (O'Brien is a producer of "Andy.")
But then come the second and third installments -- inspired, taut and funny enough to warrant an overall **½ rating for the series.
In No. 2, Andy watches a ridiculously out-of-shape friend die of a heart attack, but the guy's hot widow asks Andy to investigate his death as a murder. This is a fat joke; fat jokes are lazy and stupid, yet this particular "Andy" is so good, it's forgivable.
In Nos. 2 and 3, the writing and editing are quick and quick-witted. Storylines are on-target light parodies of detective shows, especially "Starsky & Hutch"-type crap from the 1970s.
Richter and other actors strike the right tone and timing with surprising jolts of comedy. In context only, these lines are great: "I like boobs." "I accused some people of murder today, and it didn't go very well." And, "Somewhere in hell, somebody's puttin' the wood to a quality broad."
If NBC lets the planned *½ debut go forward, people may give up on it and miss future ****episodes in which Andy and his wife e-mail each other while sitting side by side in bed, and Andy's friend hits on Andy's receptionist in a great "Dr. Katz"-like routine.
So what's it gonna be, NBC executives? It's a tough call to dump an entire pilot. But that's why you make the big bucks.

March 13, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
There have been a singing-detective TV show, shaggy-dog D.A. movies and now Jeff Goldblum's hallucinating detective in "Raines."
This new series is mediocre, however, so my mind wanders: Why can't there be an even more offbeat cop series called "Tattoo Detective," named after a line from Devo's 1980 hit, "Whip It."
A tattoo detective could solve the mystery that is Britney Spears' head, or gang-related crimes. Ideally, both.
But I put "Raines" on pause to Google "Tattoo Detective," and I discover the phrase is a goof. All these years, I was mishearing Devo's actual line, which is "try to detect it." What a bummer.
I'd still vote for the premise of a "Tattoo Detective" over the reality of "Raines." Goldblum portrays Michael Raines, an investigator whose work partner croaked. Without a cohort, Raines needs to talk to somebody while driving around Los Angeles, so instead he chats to hallucinations of dead victims.
Raines' boss doesn't give Raines a new partner, but rather sends him to a therapist played by Madeleine Stowe, apparently because he thinks Raines is talking to himself, and because TV shows need therapist characters.
Why wouldn't Raines' commander just assign him a new partner? Well, that's obvious. If he did, Raines' non-living-dead hallucinations wouldn't have an empty passenger seat to occupy for this show.
These walking-talking corpses are not ghosts, so they have no knowledge of themselves. Ergo, Raines' visions can't really give him clues, because they are clueless.
This isn't a horrible premise for a character-study show. But "Raines" is more plotty than character-ish. Furthermore, Goldblum doesn't seem committed to the role, or maybe he is, but he's not quite pulling it off. He mumbles. He makes Raines too cagey and confused to make his dialogue work.
You can hear kernels of good things in the script. Raines wants his new analyst to think he's merely talking to himself. Goldblum, a good actor, flubs this lie to her: "I can't think of anybody more interesting to talk to. Ew. My gosh. I'm a narcissist." That's a nice line, but it comes out barely coherent.
The script -- like the direction and acting -- is only half on. Goldberg must speak a bunch of other jokey character lies about how his hobby is to make wax models of his internal organs; yada, convoluted, yada.
"Raines" is a rare miss this season for NBC, home to new standouts "Heroes," "30 Rock" and "Friday Night Lights." With Goldblum and Stowe co-starring in a light drama, NBC should be bragging about another critical victory, punning along the lines of something like, "When it 'Raines,' it pours."
But "Raines" is too poor to reign. (I knew I could make that cliche even worse if I just tried hard enough.)

March 11, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Eddie Izzard was in his 30s before he became famous as a comedian, but he wanted to be a dramatic actor way back when he was a 12-year-old schoolboy in the U.K.
"They did Shakespeare's 'Caesar,' " Izzard, 45, says. "There's a lot of male roles in that. A lot of stabbing roles. A lot of Brutuses and Cassiuses and Marc Antonys. And I couldn't get any of them. I was Trebonius, which is s---.
"He doesn't do any stabbing, which is no good," Izzard says.
Izzard moved from stand-up to film actor in the 1990s, then landed in "Shadow of the Vampire" and "The Cat's Meow." Now, he's creating the mostly dramatic lead part of a gypsy father in FX's "The Riches."
Izzard plays Wayne, a traveling thief. He and his drug-addled wife Dahlia (Minnie Driver) take over the identity of a dead couple, move into their Louisiana house and pretend to raise their kids in a normal way for the first time.
Izzard does bring a respectable resume to the role. He earned a Tony nomination in 2003. Before that, he played Lenny Bruce in a stage revival of "Lenny."
Last year, Izzard almost took a villain's role on this season's "24." He went with "The Riches" instead, partly because he sees himself as a sunnier actor than "24" demanded. An actor must know if can be believably sinister, he says.
"I did a film with John Malkovich," he says of "Shadow of the Vampire." "If John says, 'Come and have a cup of tea,' you do think John has just murdered his family. He has that interesting feel, like, 'John, what have you done?'
"And I have that light thing, a more positive, upbeat thing."
Izzard sees the transition from comedy to drama as a feast.
"There is a coke-y aspect to comedy. It is a very heady drug. It's like a dessert drug," he says. "It's like eating a lot of cream pies. And drama's like a savory meal. It hits different buttons. It takes you on a journey."
The trouble Izzard had for years was convincing people he could serve dinners as well as pies.
"If everyone's ready for you to make dessert, and you say, 'I'm gonna come and do a savory chicken. It's got minerals and carbohydrates,' a lot of people [will object to that]," he says.
Going from Trebonius to stand-up to meaty drama roles "was a long slow burn," he says. But he made it happen.
"Lenny Bruce said, 'I'm a hustler.' I really am kind of a hustler. I want to hustle myself forward into the best possible career I can get," Izzard says.
"And I've finally been given a chance to do this."

March 11, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Dahlia (Minnie Driver) puts a needle to her arm. She's fresh out of prison and crying on the floor of a glorious house she and her gypsy husband kinda stole in a rather unsavory way.
Driver, a Brit-turned-L.A. surfer and onetime student of a Paris finishing school, loves the juicy part of eccentric, Southern Dahlia enough to work 17-hour days on the set of the new FX drama "The Riches."
"Dahlia -- she's just a crack addict, man," Driver, 37, says. "She loves her kids. And she could kill 'em. And she could love 'em. She can't cook to save s---. She likes to f--- in cars. It's all so far away from who I am."
Driver's dedication shows in Dahlia's hardened and taut face. Dahlia is nowhere near glamorous here. You get a feeling for Driver's gritty acting approach when she talks about her favorite actresses, Cate Blanchett and Kate Winslet.
"They're real," she says. "I know they all look gorgeous on the red carpet, but I'm telling you, they wouldn't stop to fix their hair in the middle of a scene, or worry about whether their bum looked big. ... They're actresses, not celebrities."
Like Blanchett, Winslet or any actress, Driver is called on to do sex scenes. In "Riches," these are meant to be funny or touching, not lascivious. This is fine with her.
"If it's like crazy washing-machine sex like in that movie 'Showgirls,' " she says, "I don't think I could do that."
One thing that fascinates me about her Dahlia performance is her fingers. Dahlia fiddles with digits when nervous, plucks at a squeeze-stress ball as if it were a spider's prey and tucks fingertips into her pants when at rest.
I ask her about her finger acting, and she laughs at me -- at first.
"That's the oddest question," she says. "You know what? I play the piano. I play the guitar. I come from an incredibly physically articulate family.
"That squeeze ball did a lot of acting for me," she says. "You can say things with your fingers that you can't say with your mouth, like, 'Doug Elfman is weird.' "

March 11, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
They're called Irish travelers, a sort of gypsy. The Malloys are a family of con artists. But they've come to a crossroads -- on a road, no less -- and decided to steal the identity of a dead couple, move into the couple's house and forge a more stable life.
Fortunately for them, clueless neighbors in this Louisiana town never met the couple they impersonate. So all Wayne (Eddie Izzard) and Dahlia (Minnie Driver) have to do is connive their way through this new and rough as
Producers of FX's "The Riches" say there's no other show on TV like this, but HBO's three-Mormon-wives drama "Big Love" is slightly similar. In both, the protagonist family lives a secret life while a rival family of the same ilk is out to get them.
There's a lot going on in "The Riches." Soon enough, Wayne will consider faking his way through a real job. Dahlia must adjust to being freed from prison while raising three kids and struggling with a nasty drug habit.
The show's first three episodes don't always land their punches. But "The Riches" takes daring swings. And the acting, especially in Monday's debut, is as good as it gets on TV.
Comedian-turned-actor Eddie Izzard finds the sinister but conscientious soul of Wayne, slyly talking himself into bounty and out of sticky situations. Minnie Driver is nothing short of remarkable, making Dahlia multifaceted and at times funny.
There's room for improvement. The first episode is excellently textured. A few upcoming episodes get bogged by slack scripts and workaday direction, though the show is in the reliable hands of producers who drafted HBO's "Carnivale."
"The Riches" works best when it's more dramatic and subtly comic than when it sometimes unravels into broad eccentricity.
But it's a good start for a good show, whose tone is best when not loud. In the premiere, Wayne quietly recites a William Stafford poem summing up the hopeful drift of his family of traveling thieves:
" 'Who are you really, wanderer?' / and the answer you have to give / no matter how dark and cold / the world around you is: / 'Maybe I'm a king.' "
Wayne is royally deceptive. He's even hustled himself into believing his biggest lie, that everything will be turn out just fine.

March 9, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Cartoon fans know the score. Two years ago, "South Park" creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone said the meanest thing fans can do is utter "Family Guy" in the same breath as their show.
Then for two episodes of "South Park" last season, Cartman tried to get "Family Guy" canceled.
"I am NOTHING like Family Guy!" Cartman screamed. "When I make jokes, they are inherent to a story! Deep, situational and emotional jokes based on what is relevant and has a POINT! Not just one interchangeable joke after another!"
"The day after that episode aired, we got flowers from 'The Simpsons,' " Parker told IGN.com's Eric Goldman. "We got calls from 'King of the Hill,' saying we were doing God's work."
I still love "South Park" (which started a new season Wednesday) and the better episodes of "The Simpsons." But Cartman's complaint that "Family Guy" is shallow and jokey could just as well have described the Marx Brothers and the "Naked Gun" movies.
One person who doesn't agree with Parker and Stone is Matt Groening, creator of "The Simpsons."
"At the beginning, there was probably some competition going on" between "The Simpsons" and "Family Guy," he says. "But certainly not from me.
"I know how hard it is to do an animated TV show. ['Family Guy' creator] Seth MacFarlane is a good friend. And 'Family Guy' is funny. It's got its own style. The more the merrier. I want more cartoons on TV," Groening says.
MacFarlane confirms the friendship with Groening, but he thinks some "Simpsons" people do hate his show.
"Because I know so many of those guys as well as I do ... you forgive anything. It's a good-natured jab," MacFarlane says.
"With 'South Park,' it's a little different," he says. "They spent two half hours of their airtime talking about us, which frankly, I f---ing love. It's like a free commercial. With them, I get the sense there's definitely some anger there. I don't know where it's based. But they're angry guys."
"Family Guy," which averages about 600,000 fewer viewers each week than "The Simpsons," also has been called a ripoff because both shows focus on a nuclear family -- as if "The Simpsons" invented the format of a dad, mom, kids and a dog.
I suggest to MacFarlane every show owes a debt to some previous series.
"Right," he says. "You could almost say 'The Honeymooners' or subsequently 'All in the Family' laid down the ground rules -- everything structurally -- for a live-action sitcom.
"And I think it's the same thing for 'The Simpsons' regarding subsequent animated shows. They reinvented the process. A lot of things worked. So of course you're gonna use that as a springboard."
There are yet more haters lurking. In an episode of "30 Rock" -- my favorite show on TV at the moment -- Tina Fey's character Liz broke up with a boyfriend partly because he liked "Family Guy."
MacFarlane knows all about it.
"I saw that!" he says. "Yeah. We always thought Tina Fey was a fan, so we always avoided making fun of [her mysterious facial] scar. But we may have to revisit that."

MATT GROENING, 'SIMPSONS' GUY
On the hand of Milhouse's dad getting cut off: "It was so heartless. It was a really mean gag. But what was good about it was you certainly couldn't see it coming, and it was an underreaction -- 'Ow.' "
On animation styles: "We've done Claymation versions of 'The Simpsons,' and any possible version we can. We'll probably at some point do a parody in the 'Shrek'/Dreamworks/Pixar style. ... My problem with CGI is it's so rich in texture, my eyes get tired. Everything is focused down to the littlest leaf. A masterful version of that was [former 'Simpsons' director] Brad Bird's 'The Incredibles.' He knew exactly where to limit the detail."
On the "Simpsons" movie, set for release in July: "Whoever you don't want to see naked on 'The Simpsons,' that's who you're gonna see [naked]."

SETH MACFARLANE, 'FAMILY GUY' GUY
On whether pervy neighbor Glen Quagmire has any basis in Larry from "Three's Company": "Maybe a little. As a sitcom archetype, he fits into that, always having a hot tub party with Swedish stewardesses. That '70s image. Quagmire's a little darker. You get the sense he might have roofied some girls."
On the gag that made him laugh most: "It was 'Jaws 5: Fire Island.' There was a voice that was soft-spoken, kind of effeminate. ... It was just that classic image of 'Jaws' looking up at the two swimmers, and he's just like, 'I'm gonna eat y'all. I'm gonna eat that hairy leg. I'm gonna eat that one, too.' Every time I see that, I just [soil] myself."
On an upcoming guest voice: "Rush Limbaugh agreed to do the show, believe it or not. That's in our 'Star Wars' episode, which airs in the fall. He's playing himself, and it's a neutral gag. [Bill] O'Reilly turned us down."
On the possibility of a live-action "Family Guy" movie: "I saw the 'Flintstones' movie, and that's all the argument I need not to do it."

March 8, 2007
"30 Rock" is the best show on TV at the moment. But after tonight, it's going away for six weeks to make room for NBC's new "Andy Barker, P.I."
Last week's episode was the funniest 30 minutes on TV this year. A date told Liz (Tina Fey) he doesn't own a TV. "Really?" she said. "What do you sit and look at?"
Alec Baldwin's performance as network exec Jack is legendary (and I never, ever say "legendary"). The rest of the cast is hilarious. And there's no sharper comedy writing or comedy directing on TV right now. It's a perfect show.
Tonight on WMAQ-Channel 5, there are two episodes, a new one at 8:31 and a repeat, "Tracy Does Conan," at 9:31. If you don't watch or TiVo, NBC.com offers free downloads of episodes.
-Doug Elfman

March 8, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
The Chicago Sun-Times
It's not exactly a scandal, but the precocious fifth-graders who star in the new hit quiz show "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?" appear to be child actors.
Fox doesn't mention this on the show, on its Web site or in press releases. It was a reader, Mark Kiely, who alerted me, saying his wife, Julie, noticed little Laura had appeared in Comedy Central's "The Sarah Silverman Program."
Sure enough, Laura Marano's got her own Imdb.com page of credits including "Huff," "Dexter" and eight episodes of "Without a Trace." Clearly, Fox wouldn't trust any fifth-grader (certainly not yours) to handle the pressure of being a cast member on a TV show. Only the steadiest 11-year-old actors will do.
A Fox spokesman assures me the five kids aren't getting any help to answer questions before or during episodes.
Of course, it's not the fifth-graders who need clues. It's the adults.
On last Thursday's episode, a phone sales representative named Larry almost got this first-grade question wrong: "How many times does the letter 'e' appear in the following phrase? Pledge of allegiance."
Afterward, he botched another question: How many teaspoons go into five tablespoons? He paused a long time to figure his wrong answer. He went, "Two times five equals ..."
Pause, pause, pause.
Terrorists: Please don't watch this show. And if you do, we're not all this dumb.
But America does love bumbling contestants. Last week's three episodes of "5th Grader" were the fourth-, fifth- and sixth-most popular shows on TV, bested only by three episodes of its lead-in, "American Idol."
I don't have a problem with a TV show that profits in panicked people feeling pressure to win $1 million. I'm used to TV (and Howard Stern, who employed this style of adult-kid faceoff years ago).
If "5th Grader" flips your skirt, more power to you. But I lose patience with yet another quiz show stretching two minutes' worth of questions into a full hour. If the pacing were half as fast as "Jeopardy!," I might give "Smarter" as much as three stars.
But it took three minutes and 36 seconds of show time (plus a commercial break) before Larry was told if he passed the teaspoon situation. (A fifth-grader bailed him out.) In all, Larry and another contestant, Susan, fully answered 10 questions.
Riddle me this. If you were playing a board game with friends at home, would you be satisfied to go through five elementary questions every half hour?
Obviously, the appeal of "5th Grader" isn't the questions. It's supposed to be the suspense among confused adults, the cuteness of the kids and the condescension of host Jeff Foxworthy, who holds contestants' idiotic feet to the idiotic fire.
Larry told Foxworthy he wanted to win big so he could buy a Lamborghini and coat it in camouflage.
"That makes a lot of sense," Foxworthy teased. "Import a quarter-million-dollar car, and then paint it where nobody can see it."
I've interviewed Foxworthy. He seems smart. And his popularity is propelling ratings. He has used non-adult "redneck" routines to sell more comedy albums than anyone, beating Richard Pryor, Steve Martin and Cheech & Chong.
But when the king of rednecks becomes the new Howie Mandel in a snail-paced show -- where child actors outsmart a woman who can't recall how many U.S. states border the Pacific -- I think I'm that much closer to tossing myself in it.

RECENT HIGHLIGHTS
'TRUE OR FALSE? WALRUSES ARE NATIVE TO THE ARCTIC.'
Contestant Larry, a 31-year-old phone sales rep, doesn't know, so he "peeks" at fifth-grader Jacob's correct answer, "true."
"I was leaning that way myself," Larry says.
"Sure you were," host Jeff Foxworthy mocks.
Time it took for this question to play out: Two minutes and 45 seconds.
'HOW MANY U.S. STATES BORDER THE PACIFIC OCEAN?'
Contestant Susan, a 38-year-old mother and real estate agent, counts Washington, Oregon and California, then answers "three." Fifth-grader Spencer answers correctly with "five" to "save" Susan, who then remembers Hawaii and Alaska.
Time it took for this question to play out: A minute and 35 seconds.
'WHAT IS THE LARGEST SPECIES OF BEAR?'
Susan isn't sure, so she cheats off fifth-grader Laura, who answers correctly: "polar bear."
Time it took for this question to play out: Two minutes and 26 seconds, plus a commercial interruption.

Halloween can't just be about dressing up, it has to be about girls dressing as "sexy" cats and stuff. (See "Mean Girls".)
And video games can't just be about games. So on April 18, Eidos (makers of Lara Croft and "Hitman") is bringing not just pool tables but "Pocket Pool."
"Pocket Pool" is a double-entendre for ... um.
Anyway, here's how Eidos pitches the PSP game:
"Pocket Pool is a game that can stand alone as a realistic billiard
simulator, however sprinkle in some sex appeal and now you have a true
gaming treat."
For your consideration: The photo at hand.

March 7, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
'The Wedding Bells" has been promoted so often on Fox, I felt like I had seen it before I actually saw it.
In one over-advertised scene, a wedding photographer tells a bride to lick her lips for sexy pictures. She makes an ugly sweeping motion with her tongue. That was cute the first time I saw it -- not the 15th time.
That's the danger of movie trailers and commercials for TV shows. They ram vibrant scenes down your throat until they've A) convinced us not to see something, or B) partly spoiled our viewing experience if we check it out.
Fortunately, Fox ads didn't ruin much, as "The Wedding Bells" is an anemic, unfunny romantic comedy about a trio of wedding-planner sisters who produce elaborate, expensive affairs for wacky people.
Characters introduce themselves and others as if the characters know we are watching them and need simple descriptions of their very essence, like:
• "You sisters -- you own your own business. You're all beautiful."
• "Stella Pontelle, mother of the bride. I'm an acquired taste. I'm here to discuss the menu."
• And: "She just saw me for what I am, I guess -- a wedding singer."
Everyone Just Happens to Catch Each Other in Awkward Situations. A chef spoon-feeds a dish to wedding planner Jane. He coos in broken English, "Explode in your mouth, like the orgasm." Jane's husband just happens to walk in.
It's dumb like that.
"The Wedding Bells" may deserve some benefit of the doubt, because David E. Kelley created it, and he's writing the scripts. This is the same Kelley who made "Boston Legal" (still good), "Ally McBeal" (half very good, half pretty dumb), "Picket Fences" (almost all good), "L.A. Law" (mostly very good) and "The Practice" (which I didn't watch much of).
Kelley is like the antithesis of J.J. Abrams. Abrams knows how to start a series ("Alias," "Felicity" and "Lost") but not how to sustain it. Kelley may falter at the start of new shows but he develops them into entertaining studies.
Still, tonight's sneak preview episode limps to the altar with only a few slightly humorous lines, one runaway bride, one wedding and no funerals, and no best friend's wedding.
But knowing Kelley and his penchant for topical and traditional themes, he'll mine all that territory before you can say "gay marriage" and "heinous bridesmaid dresses."

March 6, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
The Pussycat Dolls are a novelty act looking for a new girl to join their pop music group, which appeals especially to Maxim readers and girl-women who aspire to be Pussycat Dolls.
The whorishly clad Dolls are trying to find their new, seventh lady by using a new competition show called "Pussycat Dolls Presents: The Search for the Next Doll."
This is synergy: a fakey band plus a marketing show equals money.
You might like "Next Doll" if you want to hear their big hit "Don't Cha" over and over until you desire to invite the song outside and bludgeon it to death with your bare fists and maybe your boots and harsh words, too.
("Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha?")
The surprise is that most of the auditioning women are good singers with somewhat identifiable voices. The not-surprising thing is the show sucks like a starved kitten.
"New Pussycat" actually has nice earnestness in it. The girls aren't immediately hate-able. The judges and trainers take auditions seriously and come across as genuine and skilled, as opposed to poseurs vamping for TV.
But really, who cares? This is the search for a bonus girl in a crappy girl group. There are no villains to root against or super-interesting women to latch onto unless you're interested in singing lingerie models.
("Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha?")
It's also creepy to see how a few girls' statements seem to have been creatively edited. Sandra, 27, says her parents were killed in a plane crash when she was 14. Later, she messes up during rehearsal, then you hear her say this:
"Because of the loss of my parents, I'm not comfortable singing."
Here's the problem. You can tell "Because of the loss of my parents" has been spliced into "I'm not comfortable singing." It's like the film editor wants us to think she's blaming her long-dead parents for her clumsy vocals.
That's kind of scummy, if that's the case.
("Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha?")
Most of the singer-dancers do come across as professionals bent on girl power -- the kind of girl power vixens employ with their open legs, not the kind of girl power you'd find in, say, a female physicist.
"The Pussycat Dolls are about female empowerment," Brittany, 20, says. "And I'm all about female empowerment -- being that I've never had to rely on a man for anything."
Anything? My, my, that is Pussycat power.
("Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Don't cha?")
The girls also audition to the Pussycats' "I Don't Need a Man." But they do need men, apparently. Songs were co-written and co-produced by men. And the girls are coached to dance and sing by men.
It's men who keep the contestants focused. One potential Doll stumbles during practice and tries to giggle her way out of a tight spot. The male instructor cracks down.
"We don't have time for Kewpie doll stuff," he says. "It's not time for you to smile and say, 'Oh, I made a mistake.' It's time for you to really zone in and listen."
So these talented women wish, unlike Pinocchio, to transform from person to Doll. But they are guided by men, and the mass beneficiaries of their visual splay are men's ogling eyes. Female empowerment has come a long way, baby.

March 4, 2007
An unlikely development has occurred on "24" this season. Chloe -- the nerdy computer genius lacking personal skills -- has become involved in a love triangle between her ex-husband and a co-worker she once dated, Milo.
So far, Chloe (Mary Lynn Rajskub) has stuck by her ex (Carlo Rota). But Milo (Eric Balfour) is still stirring around the Counter Terrorist Unit office with her.
"I'm becoming a woman," Rajskub jokes. "On screen and off."
Rajskub -- who's also an improv actor and comedy actress -- is enjoying the new twist, but she isn't interested in changing her career to become a lovey-dovey romantic lead.
"You know, I took an acting class, and I was supposed to be making out with this guy in the scene," she says. "Afterwards, the teacher was critiquing me, and he said that was something I had to work on -- being more sexual. ... And I just said, 'Nah. No. I'm good.' "
The funny thing is Rajskub has been paired in this situation with Balfour. Not only have I seen Balfour walk into Hollywood parties with models on his arm, he seems to be the king of shower scenes. He had shower scenes in the other big shows he was on: "Six Feet Under," "Sex, Lies and Secrets" and "Conviction."
I tell Rajskub this, and she lets out a great laugh.
"It would be nice if we could see where the showers are in the CTU. Do you think that there are showers?" she says. "He's a cute guy, right?"
Balfour also laughs when I mention his wet resume. I ask if he might have a shower scene in "24."
"Of course," he says. "There's a whole episode dedicated to me getting really dirty out in the field, and I go back to CTU and I take a shower and, oh my God, Chloe decides to come in the shower. That's not the surprise, though. The surprise is when [CTU boss] Bill Buchanan joins us. It's awesome."
Balfour jokes that Rajskub "wants it."
"She may not admit it out loud, or to herself, or even in her soul. But she does somewhere, deep, deep down."

March 4, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
The Chicago Sun-Times
Kiefer Sutherland interrogated the evil, war-hawk president of the United States last year. At the time, he was playing secret agent Jack Bauer on "24."
I ask Sutherland -- a Canadian who leans left, toward socialism -- if he had fun torturing the president, even a fictional one.
"Yeah," Sutherland says. A smile spreads across his face and he repeats contentedly, "Yeah."
There's been a lot of political talk about "24." After it started in 2001, some liberals accused the drama of propagating stereotypes about Arab-Americans. Plus, "24" executive producer Joel Surnow recently created an alleged comedy show for the right-wing Fox News Channel.
But Sutherland -- another "24" producer -- is no Bush conservative. And quite a few "24" bad guys have been white right-wingers. This season, nefarious shadow figures on the show are trying to institute detention centers for Arab Americans.
What's more, the presidents on the show's various seasons always have made very bad choices, as I point out to Sutherland during a visit to the "24" set.
Sutherland grins again.
"I think that in itself is a fantastic statement," he says.
Some commentators on Fox News might not agree with Sutherland, since they've said the feds should torture suspects the way Jack Bauer treats them on the Fox action drama. Sutherland considers their idea and gets revved up.
"I think that's very dangerous," he says. "When you start taking a fantastical world like this, and try to apply the logic of this show to the real world, [it] is absolutely ridiculous and insane. I very strongly disagree with the idea that we need Jack Bauers out there in the world doing that."
He says torture and other dramatic devices merely demonstrate "how important a situation is within the context of a TV show."
"The idea that people think this is how we should actually go out there and behave is backward thinking," he says.
This "24" debate almost didn't happen. I often tell people we critics don't really have much power to turn a TV show into a hit or to keep it on the air. But Sutherland tells me Fox wasn't going to run the first season until TV critics raved about the show's first episode in 2001, before it aired.
"The reaction to '24' is why it got picked up," he tells me. "It wasn't on their roster. I had actually been told two weeks before that it wasn't gonna go. You guys saw it, and then all of a sudden it was gonna go."
Green-lighting "24" was a good move on Fox's part. It remains TV's most intense action-adventure. This sixth season started weaker than normal, but has become tauter and more arresting. In the ratings, it's still a Top 20 show.
At this point, Sutherland's Jack Bauer has saved the world (or at least Los Angeles) five times. He's in the process of saving it a sixth time.
Sutherland, 40, tells us critics it's getting harder to do the physical acting of the fictional, counter terrorist agent.
He also thinks Jack will die someday.
"I've felt that from the very beginning," Sutherland says. "The writers sometimes think that, and sometimes they don't. I'm sure when they've been mad at me, they've [said], 'Kill him now!' "
If Jack doesn't die, Sutherland would prefer Jack work things out with his daughter, Kim, and with his ex, Audrey, played by Kim Raver, who left the show this year to do ABC's new "The Nine" (now on hiatus with an uncertain future.)
Audrey "would be the one thing that would save him," Sutherland says.
One way or another, a few critics suggest this will be the role he ends up known for the most. Hearing this, Sutherland smiles again and objects politely.
"I'm not dead yet, mate."

Video games are weird. In "Bionicle Heroes," you portray a man/machine made of Legos. You walk past beautiful caves, green hills and deserts, shooting other Lego creatures, which blow up into little Lego parts. Then you absorb the spiritual energy of these evil dead Legos.
That's right, evil dead Legos.
The downside is you may pick up 61,000 evil dead Lego souls in an hour. It's like sweeping Lego spirits with a Lego broom all Lego day.
When I reviewed "Bionicle," all that Lego-killing made my eyes feel sleepy. Fortunately, I was in bed. I stayed under the covers all day with "Bionicle" and a stack of other to-be-reviewed games, and they were all bed-wrecking disappointments.
The others:
• "Battlestations: Midway" should be up my alley. As a kid, I pieced together World War II battleships and planes out of toy pieces all the time.
"Battlestations" is not as fun as gluing planes together. When you're flying, you have to shoot a bazillion bullets at any Japanese plane over the Pacific to make it catch fire. When you steer a ship, it's too easy to explode evil boats. Winning World War II should be more entertaining than this.
• "Blazing Angels: Squadrons of World War II" sends you flying over Europe. The flying is cool. It's easy to comprehend how to shoot enemy planes. And the skies are lovely, though London looks like a miniature toy set.
But apparently, yours is the only plane truly fighting on behalf of the Allies, while armies of enemy planes come streaming into your sights. You're supposed to shoot down all these bad guys to save World War II? Please. I can't even save a plant from dying.
• "NCAA March Madness '07" is the college basketball game I thought would save my day. Wrong-o.
Oh sure, you can play as almost any real college team. But unlike Take Two's awesome "College Hoops NCAA 2K7," "March Madness" makes players look sort of freaked out. They run and shoot in clunky styles, as if their legs are made of Legos.
And the defenses create busy work. Either you or the computer-controlled team is always stealing the ball or drawing fouls. Who wants to spend entire basketball games fouling opponents and shooting from the line? Not me.

("Battlestations: Midway" for Xbox 360 -- Plays average; looks fine; it's relatively easy; rated "T" for mild suggestive themes, use of tobacco and or alcohol, violence and language. Two stars out of four.)
("Bionicle Heroes" for Xbox 360, PS 2, GCube and DS -- Plays average and redundant; looks great; it's easy; rated "E 10+" for fantasy violence. Two stars.)
("Blazing Angels: Squadrons of World War II" for PS 3 and Xbox 360 -- Plays fun until it becomes frustrating; looks very good, mostly; it's challenging; rated "T" for mild language and violence. Two and one-half stars.)
("NCAA March Madness '07" for PS 2 and Xbox 360 -- Plays slightly above-average; looks OK; it's challenging; rated "E." Two stars.)

March 2, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Fox's new sitcom, "The Winner," starts kinda funny this weekend. But in coming weeks, it relies on gags so old they're not even alive anymore; they're like zombie storylines, lurching at us with creepy familiarity. Two in particular:
• The Straight-Gay Mix-Up. Main character Glen starts hanging out with a gay guy without realizing he's gay. The gay guy doesn't realize Glen is straight. Will their misunderstanding lead to wacky situations? Gee, I wonder.
• The Condom Purchase. Glen, a virgin, gets flustered trying to buy his first Trojans. The druggist gives him a forbidding look. This storyline died of exhaustion in 1987 after being parodied in "Amazon Women on the Moon."
The plot of "The Winner" is that Glen, 32, has lived with his mom and dad his whole life. But a single mom he crushed on as a kid moves in next door. His renewed infatuation with Alison motivates him to finally get a job, at a video store.
Glen (Rob Corddry) mostly pals around with Josh (Keir Gilchrist), the young teen son of Alison (Erinn Hayes). The joke is that Glen is 32 going on 14, and Josh is 14 going on 32. So, they're equally childlike, smart-ish and allegedly adorable.
"The Winner" doesn't have to be as mediocre as it becomes in the next few weeks. Sunday's first episode has eight funny lines.
The comedy works well when the tone is similar to Fox's fantastic and crass "Family Guy." This should be promising. "The Winner" is produced by "Family Guy" creator Seth MacFarlane and writer Ricky Blitt.
I'm just not sure whose idea it was -- MacFarlane and Blitt's, or Fox executives' -- but "The Winner" quickly metastasizes into a routine sitcom with laugh tracks and Ye Olde Storylines.
Worse, it has a good heart with feel-good lessons. Yuck. Blitt was inspired partly by his love for "The Wonder Years," of which this is a slight bastardization. Glen narrates from the future, and the show is set in the past (1994).
There is hope for "The Winner." Corddry is decent, as he was in "The Daily Show." And there's good chemistry between Corddry and Gilchrist.
But a little "Family Guy" doesn't go far enough to save "The Winner," which is neither a winner nor a loser. It's somewhere in the middle, like the middle class, the middle of the road, and purgatory.

Crackdown" will look familiar to mainstream gamers. It was designed by David Jones, one of the co-creators of "Grand Theft Auto." Just like in the classic shoot-'em-ups of "GTA" titles, "Crackdown" compels you to navigate city streets and kill people.
Ah, but here's the rub. In "Crackdown," you are the good guy, rather than the vile, murderous scum of "GTA."
Specifically, you play as a futuristic cop. You wield the super powers to jump incredible distances (from building to building), to lift two-ton limos, and to regenerate after getting gunned down.
This marks a trend in pop culture: Antiheroes are on the skids. "Grand Theft Auto" is dusty; the stars of top sellers are earnest heroes, in "Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six: Vegas," "Battlestations: Midway," "Gears of War" and "Call of Duty 3."
Of course, age-old distinctions between good and bad are slightly blurred. In "Crackdown," you do indeed slay ruthless gangsters who blow away pedestrians willy-nilly in the streets. (It's beyond me why pedestrians roam the sidewalks, let alone live in this bloody locale.)
But good cop or not, you can't help but to accidentally drive over these dumb citizens you're trying to save. Honk your horn all you want. They will freeze in front of your hood and die.
Meanwhile, an off-screen narrator, your cop boss, eggs you on to end the lives of bad people preying on the weak.
"Remember," your boss says. "Skills for kills, agent. Skills for kills!"
All those gangsters and thugs for life -- and there are thousands of them, armed with rocket launchers and machine guns -- shoot at you while laughing and taunting, "Prepare to die," and "Why are you even breathin'?"
So many bullets whiz by, they even rain down from white, puffy clouds.
There are two drawbacks. Big gangster bosses must be defeated, which is fine and standard, but some are ensconced in unbearably confusing mazes. And online, you can play only a cooperative mode with other gamers; there's no player vs. player mode.
Still, "Crackdown" is a great, big, masterful beast. It could take dozens of hours for a gamer to finish exploring streets, evil men and women, and quirky extras.
"Crackdown" offers four cities. You don't just sprint and drive down realistic streets. You climb tall buildings of many styles and leap off 16-story structures without hurting your feet.
In one city, I scaled a random building and found a swimming pool on top with a rubber ducky floating in it. I shot the rubber ducky with a machine gun. It flew across the pool and splashed into the corner.
That is the immense level of detail creative people put into such games, simply so we can spend our spare time blowing up every little thing in the world, even when we are heroes.

("Crackdown" retails for $60 for Xbox 360 -- Plays addictive and fun; looks great; very challenging; rated "M" for blood, gore, intense violence, sexual themes, strong language and use of drugs. Four stars out of four.)

NEW ORLEANS -- Mom's house. This is where I told Nana I loved her before she died. It's where I celebrated my wedding to my future ex-wife.
I go home again and a FEMA trailer is sprawled out on the front yard. The trailer's plastic water pipes clutch like claws around the sides of the house on the mend.
A year and a half since Hurricane Katrina, thousands of homes remain crumbled, broken or burned. For generations, the city has buried its own in above-ground cemeteries to protect graves from floods. Now entire neighborhoods of houses look like above-ground cemeteries.
Mom's house is almost a home again. Although, the front outer wall still bears the spray paint of rescue workers: an "X," plus a number signifying how many bodies were found inside. (My family escaped.)
I flew to New Orleans to visit Mom; to take video games to my brother Brad's son, Kyle; and to heal my sister Teresa's Nintendo DS. Katrina ruined the handheld system's battery charger, along with Teresa's home and her daughter Jennifer's GameCube. And everything else they owned.
As it turns out, Brad bought Kyle, 7, a second PlayStation 2 and plugged it into the TV in his truck. Over the holidays, Brad and his love, Elaina, took Kyle for a road trip away from the madness. Kyle's backseat PS 2 kept him busy.
"We drove thousands of miles, and we didn't hear a word from Kyle. It was worth it," Brad said of the system's cost, around $120.
I've dogged the PS 2 for about a year, because it's slower and meeker than new systems. But I had a lot of fun playing Kyle's favorite games with him: "Sly 3: Honor Amongst Thieves," "IHRA Drag Racing" and "The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy." He beat me a few times.
"I won, fool!" he kept saying.
I can't say this enough: Playing games is a good distraction.
When Kyle and I walked outside, I thought this must be what happens in ghost towns after they get blown up in war games: rebuilding life around the dead and rotted while neighbors and strangers help each other. (Government home-rebuilding money still hasn't really come.)
One day, I hung out with Teresa and her boyfriend, Kevin, in the French Quarter. The area looks great and suffered relatively little.
Teresa (I got my sense of humor from her) tried to loosen me up local style at The Abbey, a pub where urns of dead customers sit on a mantle of shadows.
"You're in New Orleans. Ya gotta get fizzy," she said.
Teresa said it's a good thing tourists are oblivious to the destruction in her neighborhood, Gentilly.
"A lot of businesses have and will go under if tourists don't come and spend money," she said.
I eyed those out-of-towners snapping photos. I walked up Decatur Street and drowned my sorrows in café au lait and beignets at Café du Monde. I strode by a street performer tricking visitors with sleight of hand and stood at the cusp of Jackson Square.
From my iPod, Regina Spektor whispered sprightly into my ear: "The world is everlasting. It's coming. And it's going."

(PlayStation 2 -- It's less powerful than newer game systems, but it's still a fun and splashy system offering scores of great games for sale. It's also cheaper than the $400 Xbox 360, $250 Nintendo Wii and $600 PS 3. The PS 2 retails for $120. Three stars out of four.)

February 27, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
A new quiz show on Fox sets out to prove America is a nation of idiots. (The TV says we're stupid. It must be right.)
The show is "Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?" The host is Jeff Foxworthy, the "You might be a redneck if ..." comic. Is this a perfect union of show and host? Viewers will find out when it debuts tonight.
The gist of the game is, adults and fifth-graders try to answer questions taken from elementary school textbooks. Foxworthy says adults miss a lot of questions the five child panelists get right. And the adults have to crib from the children to get through tougher questions.
"They get to cheat off of the kids. And it's so funny to see a 45-year-old guy go, 'Can I look at her paper?' " Foxworthy says. "You're saying, 'You do understand she's 10 years old. If the ice cream truck goes by, she's leavin'. This is the person you're banking on.' "
A UCLA history professor misses an elementary history question; a kid gets it right. Another contestant struggles to remember whose image is on the dime.
"We're not deliberately bringing in stupid people," Foxworthy says. "They are all over the place. That's why I have a job as a comedian."
Foxworthy enjoys toying with contestants, like the woman who gets stumped to define "antonym."
"She said, 'Can you use it in a sentence?' And I said, 'Yeah, my aunt and 'em came over for Thanksgiving dinner.' "
Foxworthy claims the fifth-graders aren't ringers brought in to stump adults. These aren't "Mensa kids or some brainiacs," he says. "They're just above-average fifth-graders.
I ask Foxworthy: What does it say about America that we're facing supposedly imperiled times of wars and fear as a nation of idiots who can't beat fifth-graders?
"It may not be confidence inspiring," he jokes. His serious answer is, "It's not really that we're idiots.
"What it boils down to is these kids have seen this [textbook material] recently, and the adults haven't."
Foxworthy, 48, says parents could fare better than childless contestants. He says he knows the answers to about 40 percent to 50 percent of the questions because he's helped one of his two daughters memorize state capitals. He's worse at defining pronoun, suffix and other grammatical learnin'.
"I knew it at one point in my life, but that file has been deleted. The theme to 'The Brady Bunch' is still in there, but the prepositions are gone," he says.
Foxworthy was a contestant on celebrity "Jeopardy!" once. He did poorly on the show, even though he would do fine at home watching "Jeopardy!" on TV. Pressure did him in, just like it clips "5th Grader" contestants.
"You know the old [expression]," he says. "It's better for people to think you're an idiot rather than for you to open your mouth and prove them right. That's what happens when you get those lights in your eyes and that buzzer in your hands."

February 26, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
The Oscars wouldn't be the Oscars if they weren't a big liberal fest of feel-good backslapping. Not only was Al Gore the star of the best documentary winner, but Leonardo DiCaprio asked Gore onstage if he would run for president in 2008.
"I'm just here for the movies, Leo," Gore said seriously.
But then DiCaprio pressed Gore, and Gore taunted the crowd.
"You've been very convincing," Gore said. "So my fellow Americans, I'm going formally announce my intentions to ..." And then that Oscar speech-interrupting music chimed in to cut the Gore joke short.
It was a fine little broadcast of a typical Oscars tone (snooty/trying not to seem so). Maybe it was because 2006 was a mediocre film year, but the Academy glammed up the broadcast with Gore gags and music interludes. Other highlights and lowlights:
THE HOST: Ellen DeGeneres' best line was liberal, the one about people named Oscar. But it was also funny when she said her dream was always to host the Oscars, not to win an Oscar.
"Let that be a lesson to you kids out there: Aim lower."
GOOD SINGING AT THE OSCARS? Yes. Three comic actors -- Chicago native John C. Reilly, funny Will Ferrell and normally overrated Jack Black -- sang a tune about how comedian-actors don't get respect.
Ferrell: "I guess you don't like laughter and a smile brings you down/A comedian at the Oscars is the saddest, bitterest, alcoholic clown."
The final chorus: "So Anthony Hopkins, you can laugh/But someday, you'll see/Helen Mirren and an Oscar will be comin' home with me."
CUTEST COUPLE: Maybe "Little Miss Sunshine's" Abigail Breslin, 10, and Will Smith's son Jaden, 8, should have been co-hosts. They announced two awards for short films (Abigail and Jaden are short, ha ha). And they were more relaxed and composed than just about anyone else, including DeGeneres, but then anxiety is part of Ellen's shtick.
BAD START: The opening sequence was a well-meaning mess. In a prerecorded bit, nominees talked about what it has been like to win and lose in the past. But ABC didn't flash up names of these nominees. We all know what Eddie Murphy looks like, but who were these other losers?
MY FAVORITE WINNER: Alan Arkin for best supporting actor. I've loved Arkin's fatherly, funny work ever since I was barely older than a zygote and saw him in 1974's "Freebie and the Bean." How weird that such a forgotten comedy is one of my oldest movie memories, but it's because of Arkin.
I was so happy after seeing him in "Freebie," I went skipping through the rain with my friend Roxanne.

February 25, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
I occasionally view TV characters as a prosecutor might, probably because I started in journalism as a cops and courts reporter. The other week on "Veronica Mars," Veronica hired a friend to steal and crush the car of a female rival. Bad Veronica!
All I could think was, "Veronica, that's a criminal enterprise. You're gonna get yourself in unnecessary trouble."
Veronica changed her mind (after it was stolen, before it was crushed). Still, the possibility that "Veronica's" main character (a well-meaning private investigator) could join the ranks of the criminal minds on TV got me thinking: There are a lot of main characters on TV who should be in prison.
In some shows, like "The Sopranos," they're half-glorified, half-vilified (the stuff of anti-heroes). In others, criminals are just absurd (like Homer Simpson). But in some, particularly "The Shield" and the awesome "Dexter," murderers are posed as likable protagonists.
More good-guy bad guys are coming soon. Starting Monday, NBC's "The Black Donnellys" follows the chipper but dark lives of young guys in a murderous organized crime group. They deserve to be in prison instead of carousing on the streets of New York. And "The Riches," a good show starting March 12 on FX, stars Minnie Driver and Eddie Izzard as grifters raising their kids in the house of a dead couple. Identity thieves!
So, herewith, are other TV heroes I think Jack McCoy could prosecute in upcoming episodes of "Law & Order: TV Criminals."
'Heroes'
(8 p.m. Mondays, NBC)
Claire's dad, the one with the horn-rimmed eyeglasses (producers call him "HRG"), has at the very least falsely imprisoned Sylar, the evil guy. Granted, cops wouldn't know what to do with Sylar's superpowerful ways. But still, this is felonious. Also, Nikki is a killer. She did turn herself in, but the cops let her out.
'The Sopranos'
(Returning April 8 to HBO)
Almost every character is a murderer, a mobster or an accomplice to something untoward. The series wraps with nine upcoming episodes. Tony should end up behind bars, as should just about everyone else.
'Prison Break'
(7 p.m. Mondays, Fox)
All the fugitives on the run should by law go back to jail, including brothers Michael and Lincoln. They're the good guys, yes, but Michael really did hold up a bank (regardless of good intentions), and they both broke out of prison, which is not legal.
'The Shield'
(Returning April 3 on FX)
The main characters are bad cops who kill suspects vigilante-style and who have even killed cops. They are not nice people -- nor law-abiding.
'It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia'
(Returning on FX this summer)
On this absurd comedy, characters have used crack cocaine and torched a guy's business. Actually, the torchers were busted and put on probation. So it takes TV's crassest (and one of its funniest) series to exhibit criminal consequences.
'The Knights of Prosperity'
(7:30 p.m. Wednesdays, ABC)
The gang is conspiring to rob Mick Jagger's apartment. They've already broken into and entered Mick's office building, among other things. Crime shouldn't pay. Mick earned that apartment!
'Lost'
(9 p.m. Wednesdays, ABC)
Several characters have shot and killed others on bizarro "Gilligan's Island." There's been blackmail and false imprisonment, among many other offenses. They're lucky there's no police department on their deserted isle.
'Shark'
(9 p.m. Thursdays, CBS)
James Woods' lawyer character has used unsavory and perhaps illegal methods in court, certainly back when he was a defense attorney, and possibly now that he's a prosecutor. Just because Shark puts away felons doesn't mean he's not one himself.
'My Name Is Earl'
(7 p.m. Thursdays, NBC)
Sure, Earl, Randy and Joy are mostly upstanding citizens now, but they used to break laws weekly (if not daily). Once Earl finishes making amends to his prior victims (the reason for the show), he should turn himself in.
'ER'
(9:01 p.m. Thursdays, NBC)
At the very least, nurse Samantha Taggart should get locked up for shooting her ex-husband to death. OK, fine, I was rooting for her to kill him. He raped her after kidnapping her and her kid. But legally, she should have continued to escape (she was home free) instead of doubling back to kill him while he slept.
'Desperate Housewives'
(8 p.m. Sundays, ABC)
Bree's son Andrew vehicular-homicided Carlos' mom. Edie set fire to Susan's house. And Bree's hubby Orson tried to hit-and-run Mike to death. The sequel can be called "Desperado Housewives."
'The Simpsons'
(7 p.m. Sundays, Fox)
Homer has broken so many laws, it's hard to keep count. For starters, he's vandalized a school, stolen half of Ned Flanders' possessions and caused a nuclear meltdown. A judge should order him to a lifetime of rehab and community service.
'Family Guy'
(8 p.m. Sundays, Fox)
One-year-old Stewie has shot his dog Brian in the foot to try to get out of the Army, shot down children flying helicopters, operated as a loan shark, attempted to murder his mother, tried to blow up the world and engaged in many other nefarious plans. He could plead to being an insane genius in juvenile court.
'South Park'
(New episodes on Comedy Central in spring)
The little rascals have committed a series of petty thefts and conspiracies, not to mention Cartman's various financial plots to trick people out of money. Delinquents.
'Hustle'
(Returning to AMC on April 18)
It's about a gang of con artists. Next.
'Big Love'
(Returning to HBO this summer)
A guy married to three women. That's called polygamy, a crime even in Utah.
'Weeds'
(Returning to Showtime this summer)
Nancy is a single mom ... and a dope dealer! She'd better throw herself at the mercy of the court someday.
'The Wire'
(Returning to HBO later this year)
Kids deal drugs, and they're killers and thieves. Who shouldn't go to jail from this bunch?
'Dexter'
(Returning to Showtime later this year)
Dexter is a serial killer. The prosecution rests.
delfman@suntimes.com

February 23, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
I imagine the Hollywood pitch for "The Black Donnellys" went like this: "It's a fast-paced 'Sopranos' starring a Clearasil-young cast, and people die constantly." That doesn't sound tasty, but this stew is fresher and pinker than your usual mobster meat.
What is it with the traditions of the media-made mafia, anyway? Theirs is a world without Wal-Mart. Everything's family owned. Bars. Diners. Neuroses. Psychoses. Grief, guilt, glory.
The Donnellys are weighed by all that. They're four twentysomething brothers growing up brownstone in Hell's Kitchen, New York. They are not black but black Irish. They run a bar where the window glints green from a neon four-leaf clover.
They also kidnap people and chop them to chunks of red. They're no nicer than the dystopian punks of "A Clockwork Orange." They just don't dress as cool.
Like a musical boy band of yore, there's the leader, the good-looking one, the disturbed one and the slacker. These Irish kids get in trouble fast with Italian mobsters, then the show is off and running as a panoply of purple bruisings.
The second episode concerns getting rid of a body. This entails conversations about how to dispose of the corpse. (Bathtub of acid? Dump it in a landfill?)
Then, one Donnelly brother strips to his Marky Marks so he can, with his six-pack of abs (rippling), smash the dead man's body parts to a pulp with a blood-splattering sledgehammer; in the background, the music score pulses a nifty, contemporary lounge vibe.
Yes, it's half-glamorization of violence and half-judgmentalism, just like in "The Sopranos."
The co-creators of this white-hot heat are Paul Haggis and Bobby Moresco. Together and individually, they produced, wrote or directed "Crash," the 2004 best picture winner/after-school special, and "Million Dollar Baby," the Oscar-winning bore.
Given free rein to make TV (notably on NBC, lowly rated and willing to take chances), Haggis and Moresco toy with a freer style. It's a cinematic swirl of novelistic time warps and despicable characters. Can they keep it up?
The whole show is a series of flashbacks narrated by Joey, a friend of the Donnellys. He is telling these stories from jail as a sort of hyperactive yellow canary, chirping to cops and cellmates.
Joey is erratic and self-aggrandizing. Thus, storylines are confusing at times. Unlike the pop cops at the Conveyor Belt System (CBS), the Donnellys give you no time to stroll from the TV and miss scenes. Miss a minute, miss a lot.
These tall tales flow into a stream of consciousness. That's good. The acting is convincing. That's good. The Irish stuff is heavy-handed. That's bad.
The third episode begins with a screen quote by Daniel Patrick Moynihan: "To be Irish is to know that in the end the world will break your heart."
I thought to feel blue from being beat down was to be Jewish, black or, really, any heritage, but whatever. The Irish are always presented like this -- doomy, gloomy yet sprightly and crooked-smiley from hops and barley. (If I were aggressively Irish, I'd sue that little Notre Dame gremlin mascot for merrily perpetuating stupid fists and a nerd beard.)
In the first episode, Joey narrates: "The Irish have always been victims of a negative stereotype. I mean, people think we're all drunks and brawlers -- and sometimes that gets you so mad, all you want to is get drunk and punch somebody."
Right. Crazy murderous Irish drunks bound together by spite and passion. That's not a promising Hollywood pitch, either, but Haggis and Moresco make it work through sheer will power and storytelling skills, just like any scrappy Irishman would.

February 20, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Sarah is privy to serious intel. She looks at a list of cities scheduled to be destroyed by nuclear bombs. Philadelphia. Denver. Chicago. There are others, but this is the glimpse she gets during this week's "Jericho," which isn't as hokey as it usually is.
It's a flashback episode where we see what everyone was up to before America got pulverized. If you haven't set aside time to watch "Jericho," who can blame you? It's reminiscent of the mentally challenged, 1984 scare film "Red Dawn."
The difference is "Red Dawn" fictionalized a town reacting to a Cold War invasion by the Soviets, while the bad guys of "Jericho" are terrorists or some other mysterious, nefarious villains.
Wednesday's installment, the first new one since November, is better than others, because the storytelling is tighter dramatically. Sarah is a new character. She is dating ... well, I won't spoil fans' surprise.
But suffice it to say, there is at least one scene where we see children playing innocently in the streets just hours before they get nuked. Someone, please! Save the children!
I have kind of, sort of detested the show when I've tuned in before. The series can seem like a paranoid delusion about nuke survivors in Hayseed, Kan., issuing platitudes about love and community and watch-out-he's-got-a-gun scenarios.
Apparently, lots of viewers want to be scared and cuddled, though, since "Jericho" has outlasted many other new dramas this year.
"Jericho" offers its fans an unlikely combo of:
• Present-age fearmongering (terrorists are out to get us).
• Old-fashioned TV elements (budding romances, two-dimensional hero-victims, paint-by-numbers dialogue).
• And intrigue. (Who's behind the bombs?)
I might be fine with "Jericho" if it weren't for the hacky lines. "These are the faces of the men who will change the world." "Innocent people died, Freddy. Innocent people. I see it every time I close my eyes, which isn't too often these days." "I have a bad feeling about all this."
Who talks like that? I suppose you could argue this is the discourse of the desperate trapped in traumatic situations. Maybe I'd say phrases like these if, like the characters in this flashback episode, I attended a sleeper cell or got beat up by covert soldier types.
It's definitely the economical language of old-school TV fiction, which may appeal to people who prefer traditional TV.
Conversely, it may turn off people who are fed up with overcooked TV tropes and turn instead to series featuring the style and language of youth, such as "30 Rock" and the grittier "Veronica Mars."
Here's my test. In "Jericho" on Wednesday, a guy swears "on a stack of chili dogs." He's being earnest. If Veronica Mars swore on a stack of chili dogs, it would be an ironic snark, making fun of the guy on "Jericho."
Which kind of chili-dog experience would you prefer?

His name is Ray Caesar, and he's amazing, and I stumbled on his work through:
http://jonathanlevinegallery.com/?method=Exhibit.ExhibitDescriptionCurrent
But his work is also obviously at raycaesar.com.
Just look at this sumptuousness.

February 18, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Of all the TV shows that debuted in the fall, "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" was the best bet to be a critics' darling and a hit. It was created by the makers of "The West Wing." Surely enough "West Wing" fans would give it the ratings to stay on the air.
But more viewers abandon it every week, and after Monday's episode NBC is sending it on indefinite hiatus.
What went wrong with "Studio 60"? The sex, the lack of sex, and the long and drawn-out relationships between potential couples are what's killing this show.
Despite the "West Wing" credentials of lead writer Aaron Sorkin and director Thomas Schlamme, "Studio 60" has been drawing the most typical kinds of TV couple conflicts.
A few weeks ago, two characters -- Matt (Matthew Perry) and Harriet (Sarah Paulson) -- were going through their 14th episode of trying to mend a broken romantic relationship. But Harriet kept finding artificial reasons to stay angry with Matt.
The show introduced a secondary, unrequited relationship between Jordan (Amanda Peet) and Danny (Bradley Whitford). They hooked up two weeks ago, but only after they got stuck on the roof of the "Studio 60" building for two episodes -- two! -- while another story line took two episodes -- two! -- to deal with a loose snake in the building.
If those two relationships haven't been belabored enough, a third was started between a guy who lied about having to cancel a date with a woman. He didn't have to lie; he canceled because of a work obligation. This caused severely idiotic arguments between him and her.
It doesn't help "Studio 60" that's it's an unfunny drama about the inner workings of a a TV sketch-comedy show akin to "Saturday Night Live."
D.L. Hughley, a comedian and actor who plays a sketch performer on the show, says working with "Studio's" happy cast is a joy. But he acknowledges the show's seriousness may puzzle potential viewers.
"When you say 'drama,' it automatically has a connotation that it's gonna be heavy," he says. "We're doing a show about comedy. That confuses people.
"What I like about '30 Rock' [the NBC comedy about an "SNL"-type show] is it's just a whimsical, fun thing people respond to."
Last week, "30 Rock" star Tina Fey took a jab at "Studio 60," comparing it to the outfit she wore at the Writers Guild Awards. "I hear Aaron Sorkin is in Los Angeles," she said, "wearing the same dress -- but longer, and not funny."
Hughley says if "Studio 60" survives, it will do so by ignoring expectations of contradictory critics -- some named it a top show of 2006; Entertainment Weekly named it the worst of the year.
"I became a funnier comic when I stopped believing [audience members] had to laugh," Hughley says. "It's gonna be incumbent upon us to do a show we believe in, and take off all the expectations and all the extra bull----, and do what we think is great."
It must be frustrating for the actors to be in this situation, working for the esteemed Sorkin on a show that should be better and better-watched. (Although it is getting better; last week's couples-centric episode was the season's best.)
Peet portrays a network TV executive, with a likable intensity, and she credits Sorkin for making her character real-ish.
"He's so good at avoiding cliches," Peet says. "Every time you think she's going to be the power woman, or the bitchy femme fatale ... it never [goes that way]. Whenever it leans that way," he bends in a different direction.
"If I could stay with Aaron Sorkin for the rest of my days, I'd be a happy camper," Peet says.
But odds are low "Studio 60" will weather a hiatus. Starting Feb. 26, NBC will fill the 9 p.m. Monday slot with "The Black Donnellys," another critically notable series.
delfman@suntimes.com


THE IMPRESSIONIST
It was partly by default that Sarah Paulson earned the "Studio 60" part of Harriet Hayes, the Christian-centric sketch comedian. At tryouts, the candidates were supposed to do impressions, but "none of the other actresses did it," Paulson says.
"I took out my bobby pins and started to imitate Juliette Lewis in my audition. And I could see them sort of recoil in their chairs after I took out a prop, [as if] they thought, 'Oh gosh, she's gonna do an impression of her Aunt Fern. ... That's not gonna be funny.'"
Paulson, 32, is the surprise standout in NBC's non-hit. She was nominated for best supporting actress at this year's Golden Globes.
At a moment's notice, Paulson can pretend-voice Juliette Lewis, Annette Bening, Julia Roberts and a dolphin, among others.
"I do a lot of women. I don't do a lot of men," she says.
What makes Paulson's work special isn't just mimicry skills, but her human portrayal of Harriett as a strong-willed woman who is no stereotype. Despite a part that's not always well written, she's kept relationship-conflicted Harriett spiritually likable, and neither whiny nor overbearing.
"People are interested in seeing a Christian woman who can have a martini and talk about premarital sex. She doesn't think she's going to hell," Paulson says. (This is acting for Paulson: "I'm not religious, but I'm not not-religious. I don't go to church.")

THEY WERE BALLYHOOED, THEN BOMBED
The bigger they are, they faster they fall. "Studio 60" isn't the first TV show to start out with critical acclaim or network hype only to fall quickly by the wayside. Here's a recent look back at a few other huge losers:
Just this fall, CBS' "Smith" starred Ray Liotta, Virginia Madsen, Simon Baker and Amy Smart in a series whose first episode felt like a riveting, character-based action movie about thieves. But it quickly started to go downhill. It couldn't retain viewers and it was axed in a few short weeks.
"Commander in Chief" was the "Studio 60" of 2005. With Geena Davis starring as the U.S. president and Donald Sutherland portraying a crafty Republican senator, the drama took off like a rocket, critically and popularly. Davis won an Emmy, even. But viewers dropped off en masse after ABC forced out creator Rod Lurie for delivering scripts late. Replacement producer Steven Bochco ruined the feel of the series, and it was dead within the first season.
Fox's "Wonderfalls" was compared favorably to CBS' "Joan of Arcadia," which managed to last two seasons. It was about a young woman who helped people after talking with animated objects, like stuffed bears. Fox dumped it after a few weeks, despite a fan-generated save-"Wonderfalls" campaign.
In 2003, "Skin" offered Ron Silver as a porn producer in this soapy "Romeo and Juliet" drama in the vein of "The O.C." A few critics liked its sleek focus on porn and politics, but after much advertising, Fox pulled the plug after less than handful of installments.
"The Fugitive" of 2000 was fast-paced, patterned like the movie and not like the '60s series. The CBS drama starred Tim Daly as Dr. Richard Kimble. It died. And last fall, Daly starred in "The Nine," yet another drama that was acclaimed (though I don't know why) but also was put on hiatus. Daly can't catch a break in the 2000s.
Fox had the guts to put on "Profit," a quick-cult show about a villainous businessman, but cut the 1996 series when it couldn't cut it in the ratings chase. "Profit" had a budding star on its hands: Adrian Pasdar, later Natalie Maines' husband and now flying man Nathan in "Heroes."

I KNOW THESE ACTORS -- BUT FROM WHERE?
The stars of "Longford" have played both classy, award-winning characters and ones you actually saw.
JIM BROADBENT
Prestige role: Won an Oscar for portraying author John Bayley, the husband of Iris Murdoch, in 2001's "Iris."
The role you know: Bridget's dad in "Bridget Jones's Diary."
SAMANTHA MORTON
Prestige role: Nominated for an Oscar for portraying the sweet mute Hattie in Woody Allen's 1999 movie "Sweet and Lowdown," and nominated again for 2002's "In America."
The role you know: Agatha the pre-cog in "Minority Report."
ANDY SERKIS
Prestige role: Peter Jackson's "King Kong." He did Kong's voice and facial and body motion-captures.
The role you know: Gollum/Smeagol in the "Lord of the Rings" movies. (Or maybe you don't, since most of that character's image was animated.)
LINDSAY DUNCAN
Prestige role: Stars in HBO's series "Rome" as Servilia, mother of Brutus and former lover of dead Caesar.
The role you know: The hat-wearing Katherine in "Under the Tuscan Sun." She also provided the voice of evil droid TC-14 in "Star Wars: Episode I -- The Phantom Menace" as well as in "Lego Star Wars: The Video Game."
--Doug Elfman

'Longford': How forgiving should we be?
February 16, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Myra Hindley and Ian Brady were child murderers. They took nude photos of those they kidnapped, audiotaped one girl begging for her life, strangled and bludgeoned them. He raped several. Myra and Ian's love bonded over these acts.
So why in the world would anyone try to get Myra paroled from prison?
The answer is the subject of HBO's new movie "Longford." It first aired on British TV, which means it's not a gruesome, American re-creation of Myra and Ian's trail of blood. It's a throwback to the traditional literary movie based on a true story.
These early 1960s "Moors Murders" remain infamous in England, partly because Lord Frank Longford led a long campaign to get Myra paroled. He helped all prisoners who asked for help. She seemed no different -- in theory.
From the start, Longford (Jim Broadbent) is confronted by his novelist wife Elizabeth (Lindsay Duncan) as to why he's helping Myra. No person is beyond forgiveness, he says, then grips his hands together tight, on his knees at the bed, and prays.
Much of the film has to do with Longford's visits to Myra (Samantha Morton) in prison, and his discussing the case with his wife. Occasionally, he must deal with Ian (Andy Serkis), who tries to cast doubt on Myra's claims of contrition.
I said this is an old-school literary movie because it is a gallery of objective portraits, leaving the viewer to absorb narrative while pondering various parallels and themes.
The central theme is not redemption but conversion. Longford converted from conservativism to socialism, and from Protestant to Catholic. So, he must think, it's possible Myra has converted from evildoer to repentant ex-con.
And Longford's wife -- couldn't she convert from suspicious of Myra to supportive of her case?
It becomes clear fast that Longford, heading for retirement, is dependent on both his wife and the murderess -- just as Myra is dependent on both Longford and her memories of Ian. This causes an obvious friction that will come to a head.
Peter Morgan's script and Tom Hooper's direction finely focus on telling this narrow yet human story. Morton makes Myra mysterious. Serkis gives Ian the manipulative creeps. Duncan's Elizabeth is a justifiably open-minded Englishwoman.
And Broadbent takes Longford on a voyage from chipper helper to confused old man. When Longford reflects on the case near the end, Broadbent's delivery in one scene in particular (he's giving an interview at a radio station) is a lovely example of how an actor can purposely leave a viewer unable to read a character's true feelings.
Most instructive, at another point, Longford says, "Only dead fish swim with the stream." Longford swam against the stream to support one of England's biggest villains. Myra swam against the current to become that villain. Swimming upstream together, they seem fated for each other.

February 15, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Hateable conservative Ann Coulter hasn't appeared on the lefty "Real Time With Bill Maher" for a few years. Maher thinks she's "literally in an undisclosed location" handling "security issues" after denouncing 9/11 widows and such.
"In America, you shouldn't have to have security issues because of free speech," he says. "She's not afraid to get booed. We need more people who are not afraid to get booed."
Maher used to hang out with Coulter -- "she was great company" -- and liberal friends gave him grief about it.
"Aren't liberals supposed to be the ones who reach out and aren't crimped?"
Coulter has gotten "more out of her mind. That's true," Maher says.

February 15, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN
The Chicago Sun-Times
Since Bill Maher talks openly about smoking pot, I ask him why he doesn't take his TV guests overseas for an episode or two, so they can legally toke up on camera.
Oddly, the comic refuses to take this suggestion seriously.
"I was just in Amsterdam," he says. "It would be a different show, just put it that way."
HBO's live-from-L.A. "Real Time With Bill Maher" begins new weekly episodes at 10 p.m. Friday. As usual, his studio audiences will applaud liberal jokes and statements. Maher has openly appealed for conservatives to sit with his crowds, but they won't.
"They're apparently in bed by 8 o'clock at night on Friday and getting ready for church or something," he says.
Maher doesn't think true conservatives would take the time to sit in his audience to support President Bush anyway, now that the unpopular president is waging a war of "incompetence" and running up the debt.
"It's very hard these days just to be a conservative on my show or, really, anywhere," Maher says.
Or maybe conservatives don't want to go to a studio to listen to Maher rationalize a Bush impeachment while issuing naughty proclamations. ("Truth is like sex," he says of his show. "It's best when it's a little painful.")
If Maher's favorite guests appear this season, that would mean more Ben Affleck, D.L. Hughley, Larry Miller, Robin Williams and Barney Frank.
Each of those men does his homework beforehand, then doesn't hold back. (His two most entertaining guests last year were Frank, a master debater, and the funny and acidic Harry Anderson from "Night Court.")
One thing's for sure. Maher is oiling up guests with alcohol. Some of them drink before they go on TV to calm anxiety.
"It helps some. Others it does not help at all. I think we've seen those instances," he says without elaborating.
Maher more earnestly offers booze to guests after an episode wraps for the night. This isn't a problem at HBO, but it started a "big fight" he lost at ABC, which he refers to as "Disney," ABC's parent company.
"I wanted drinks in the green room, and they did not want them at ABC," Maher says. "I think it's always good to get, you know, a moderate amount of liquor into a guest, because they're nervous as hell."
Is Maher, at 51, being "Politically Incorrect"? Hardly. That was Maher's ABC show until the network tossed him not long after he offered the distinction that terrorists acted stupidly, not cowardly, on 9/11.
He prefers guests on his show to behave not cowardly or stupidly, but angrily.
"There's a lot to be angry about. People who aren't angry, they're the ones I want to say, 'What's wrong with you?' "
He says the hothead conservative Sen. John McCain gets a bad rap for blowing his top; this demonstrates that, whether or not conservatives will attend his shows, the host will defend some of them with a typically Maher deliberation.
"They do level that charge at John McCain, but you know, John McCain spent five years in a box in Vietnam. Maybe he's a little cranky because of that."

BY DOUG ELFMAN
Chicago Sun-Times
Male TV directors in Hollywood have told me it's hard to find shows willing to hire female directors. Whenever I've asked why, they simply said, "I don't know." But "Ugly Betty" is an oasis where women really are equal, or in control, behind the scenes.
"Half of the writers are women, if not more. We've had more women directors on the show than men," says Ana Ortiz, who plays Betty's sister Hilda. "I've never been on a set before where there's so many women calling the shots."
As a result, Ortiz, 36, believes women viewers relate to the hit show.
"I haven't ever had a ['Betty'] script where I thought, 'I wouldn't say that.' That's happened so many times before [on other shows]," she says.
Moreover, a lot of the characters and crew are not white, as Ortiz, a New York native of Puerto Rican descent, explains.
"My own experience working [as an actress] has been cliche," she says. "It's Maria the maid, or Maria the drug-dealer's girlfriend, or Maria the sassy spitfire."
In other shows, she says, Latinas "are the guest stars. We come in and we have an affair with the husband, we ruin the family and then we leave."
Hilda is a kind of sassy spitfire, but she's more fleshed out than that, Ortiz says.
"You get to see the relationship with her son, being a single mom, and everyone living right on top of each other," she says. "It's not so surface."
Producer Salma Hayek deserves a lot of the credit. She was very active in getting the show made, and she remains active in promoting and working on the series.
Higher-ups at ABC have also gone the extra mile, investing millions of dollars a week not just in the production and promotion of "Betty" but in the female sensations "Grey's Anatomy," "Desperate Housewives," "Men in Trees" and "Brothers & Sisters."
The investment is paying off. "Betty" and "Grey's" are perhaps the most diverse shows on TV, and they're ABC's top-rated series among all viewers and the coveted age demographic of 18- to 49-year-olds.
Ortiz says "Betty" doesn't exploit issues of gender and heritage by propping up old storylines, either.
For instance, she says, Hilda's son is gay, but Betty's family is not freaked out about it.
"Here's this great kid who's completely unique, well-adjusted, loves himself, loves his family, and he's his own person," she says. "And we don't have to comment on it and wring our hands and sweat. He's happy."
Ortiz hopes the look of "Betty," both in front of and behind the camera, becomes contagious, and she has good reason to be optimistic now that "Betty" is a critical and popular smash.
"People are going to go where the money is. That's obnoxious to say, but we're doing really well and that's a huge plus, and hopefully it means [TV networks will] take a risk like this."
With Ortiz's own success blooming, she jokes, she might hire a maid.
"I'm gonna name her Maria," she says. "But she has to be white."