Tried to be rigorously efficient this weekend and was only moderately so - still - that exceeded expectations. considering the White Widow that's been sitting around. Took a break to socialize, and as the evening was winding down, or the morning winding up, our hosts showed us the first three episodes of Weeds with Marie-Louise Parker, Kevin Nealon, et cetera . It was pretty funny. I liked it though I don't have time to go into that (time! How did it get so precious?).
What I thought was remarkable was even now, even in our post-Sopranos landscape that has raised the bar so high on specialty television and made the sitcom format seem quaint enough to be radicalized by the adventures of a pot-dealing mum, a 25-minute pilot episode still more or less has to stand alone AND get you hooked, like a trembling young stripper at his first hen party, surreptitiously praying his panties get stuffed with bills and that no one laughs at his willy.
If I was a television enthusiast - which many of you know I am NOT, unless the enthusiasm is for shit-canning them (even the 'high-quality' stuff is just an excuse to make us think cool rich people drink Coca Cola when they don't, they drink fucking pomegranate juice or whatnot, this is 2007 and we have ideas about anti-oxidants now, people), I would collect pilot episodes and study them with rapt attention, trying to see how the creators of the show created what's effectively a half or full hour ad for the show that in its turn will serve as bait to make us watch thousands of other ads.
Puke.
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