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Enough Oliver Platt

My new favorite show is 'The Big C' on Showtime.

Normally, I can't take Laura Linney outside of my 'Tales of the City' DVD's, but in this show, she's fantastic.

Granted, it's pretty much 'Weeds' with cancer, but it's 'Weeds' back when 'Weeds' was great, and not the shell of its former self.

L.L. is great, John Benjamin Hickey as her brother is great, Phyllis Somerville on television every week is like Christmas coming early, and the cherry on the sundae?

Gabourey Sidibe!

So what's the problem?

Two words: Oliver Platt.

Oliver Platt is one of those people that must be lovely to work with, because for some reason, television executives keep trying to shove him down my throat.

Look, I don't hate the guy, but there's no reason for him to get as much work as he does, and lately he's been cast in roles that make absolutely no sense for him.

On The Big C, he plays Linney's former husband (the separation is new).

Yet you can't figure out WHY she would have ever married him in the first place when he's such a buffoon.

Platt is like a poor man's Nathan Lane. You get the stuffy, puffy appearance, but none of the humor or likability.

I'm sure there are things he's done that I've liked him in, but when the last three things you did were all epic failures (revival of 'Guys and Dolls,' 'Huff,' etc.) it makes it hard to remember the victories.

I shouldn't just pick on Platt, because there are many television actors that keep getting recycled until they finally land on a hit show and then hang around for a few years.

Here's my question: If I worked at three different places, and all three places went under, how long before people would start wondering whether or not I was the problem?

...Exactly.

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