This year, I made a resolution to stop filling my head with so much junk.
After an extended Mob Wives marathon followed by the six-day reunion of Bad Girls Club: Mumbai, I decided that enough was enough.
Not only was my brain turning into artificially flavored yogurt, but I was no longer able to converse with my friends about the shows they were enjoying.
I found myself saying things like--"At what point during Downtown Abbey does Maggie Smith put out a single called 'Going Downstairs (On Me)(Lady Bits)?' Because if that doesn't happen, I'm not interested."
Finally, I'd had enough. Starting January 1st, I sat down with a list of 2011's Best Television shows, and I started embracing the more cultured side of pop culture.
How's that going, you may ask?
Well...
There are certain "great" shows that I simply don't get. Homeland sucked me in immediately, but it seemed to lose a lot of steam, only to gain it back in the last two episodes. Plus, with CBS owning and Showtime, the entire series has the glossed-over look of NCIS. And the writing's not all that great. More Claire Danes and less Damian Lewis. It's not that I don't like Damian Lewis, it's just that his "I love my family but I'm on a mission" plot was dullsville. Oh, and the woman who plays his wife on the show is just a poor man's Catherine Bell.
I enjoyed "Louie" but I found it to be all or nothing. Some episodes were awesome (Dane Cook, Joan Rivers) whereas others just seemed totally devoid of any humor or life whatsoever.
Then there's the AMC factor.
Is it a rule that every show on AMC has to include twenty minutes of plot throughout the season and eighteen hours of characters silently reflecting on their lives?
I'd begun to wonder if I had just permanently lost my attention span?
It used to be totally fine with me if I had to invest six hours into a book or television show before things got rolling.
I made it through In the Bedroom for crying out loud!
(I'm not sure Roger Ebert made it through In the Bedroom. It's one of those movies where twenty minutes in, you start wondering where you're going to go eat after the movie, but you give it Oscars anyway, because Tom Wilkinson is in it.)
Things really came to a head with The Killing. How many hours was I supposed to devote to that show until something actually happened? And all that time devoted to the grieving family. I dubbed the entire show Grief Porn. Between the rain and the somber music and the fact that SOMEBODY CRIED EVERY FIVE MINUTES.
It's no wonder it was based on a Danish show. Or Swedish. Swedish?
Anyway, the point is, I'd begun to doubt my own taste.
Had years of watching nothing but Iron Chef America and Braxton Family Values eroded my mind?
Then I actually sat down and watched Downtown Abbey, and though I did not get that Maggie Smith single, I found myself completely absorbed by the last episode of the first season.
Leave it to a British transport about a wealthy family and their servants to remind me how good it feels to be pretentious.
It was like my culture crisis had been resolved. I still can't make it through Boardwalk Empire, but I'm not entirely unconvinced that people don't just watch the show for its costumes. (Grief Porn, Costume Porn--the television landscape is a dark and disturbing one, ladies and gentlemen.)
The good news is, I don't miss my Housewives or Bad Girls at all.
The Mob Wives?
Maybe a little...
After an extended Mob Wives marathon followed by the six-day reunion of Bad Girls Club: Mumbai, I decided that enough was enough.
Not only was my brain turning into artificially flavored yogurt, but I was no longer able to converse with my friends about the shows they were enjoying.
I found myself saying things like--"At what point during Downtown Abbey does Maggie Smith put out a single called 'Going Downstairs (On Me)(Lady Bits)?' Because if that doesn't happen, I'm not interested."
Finally, I'd had enough. Starting January 1st, I sat down with a list of 2011's Best Television shows, and I started embracing the more cultured side of pop culture.
How's that going, you may ask?
Well...
There are certain "great" shows that I simply don't get. Homeland sucked me in immediately, but it seemed to lose a lot of steam, only to gain it back in the last two episodes. Plus, with CBS owning and Showtime, the entire series has the glossed-over look of NCIS. And the writing's not all that great. More Claire Danes and less Damian Lewis. It's not that I don't like Damian Lewis, it's just that his "I love my family but I'm on a mission" plot was dullsville. Oh, and the woman who plays his wife on the show is just a poor man's Catherine Bell.
I enjoyed "Louie" but I found it to be all or nothing. Some episodes were awesome (Dane Cook, Joan Rivers) whereas others just seemed totally devoid of any humor or life whatsoever.
Then there's the AMC factor.
Is it a rule that every show on AMC has to include twenty minutes of plot throughout the season and eighteen hours of characters silently reflecting on their lives?
I'd begun to wonder if I had just permanently lost my attention span?
It used to be totally fine with me if I had to invest six hours into a book or television show before things got rolling.
I made it through In the Bedroom for crying out loud!
(I'm not sure Roger Ebert made it through In the Bedroom. It's one of those movies where twenty minutes in, you start wondering where you're going to go eat after the movie, but you give it Oscars anyway, because Tom Wilkinson is in it.)
Things really came to a head with The Killing. How many hours was I supposed to devote to that show until something actually happened? And all that time devoted to the grieving family. I dubbed the entire show Grief Porn. Between the rain and the somber music and the fact that SOMEBODY CRIED EVERY FIVE MINUTES.
It's no wonder it was based on a Danish show. Or Swedish. Swedish?
Anyway, the point is, I'd begun to doubt my own taste.
Had years of watching nothing but Iron Chef America and Braxton Family Values eroded my mind?
Then I actually sat down and watched Downtown Abbey, and though I did not get that Maggie Smith single, I found myself completely absorbed by the last episode of the first season.
Leave it to a British transport about a wealthy family and their servants to remind me how good it feels to be pretentious.
It was like my culture crisis had been resolved. I still can't make it through Boardwalk Empire, but I'm not entirely unconvinced that people don't just watch the show for its costumes. (Grief Porn, Costume Porn--the television landscape is a dark and disturbing one, ladies and gentlemen.)
The good news is, I don't miss my Housewives or Bad Girls at all.
The Mob Wives?
Maybe a little...
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