And So It Begins - Tales from the DVR.

So the one thing I've doing for leisure has been to feed my TV obsession, which has consisted of cleaning up my database to reflect cancellations and the addition of new shows and trying to clear the DVR off a little before the onslaught of new and returning programs that begins this week.


First of all, I love Castle. The writers/actors/production co have done a great job of creating a pretty little soap bubble. Yeah, if you poke it too hard, it's going to burst. There are tons of things that wouldn't happen in the real world. But it's such a nice, comforting, enjoyable little world inside that bubble, that I'm liable to forgive them just about anything. This is due in no small part to charms of Nathan Fillion, Stana Katic and the rest of the cast. They all just seem like swell people. Since we had no small children yesterday (kid #1 took kids #4 and #5 watersliding) the S/O and I picked up too much food from the little taqueria down the road and watched 9 episodes. (We have a habit of saving up whole series and watching them in a rush). We only have three episodes left, and I'm going to feel a little lonely when I have to say goodbye for the rest of the summer. One other downside -- I think I know what the final episode twist is. I've managed to stay unspoiled, but as Castle said on the show, "For a writer, you should have a better grasp of subtext." Well, I think I've caught the subtext and if my conclusion is correct, I'm going to be a little sad.

Second: Franklin & Bash was not good. I watched Franklin & Bash, the new legal series on TNT, and within the first 15 minutes, I wanted to break something. It got better later, but not better enough. It was like a giant tic. It was "quirky" and "irreverent" and whatever other air-quoted words you want to use for "not really very good." Despite Malcolm McDowell -- and I do love Malcolm McDowell -- it was, again, the big wheel of character traits: spin it 10 times for each character and then stick those things together like a third-grader's version of Frankenstein's monster. Breckin Meyer made me want to punch him in the face. Repeatedly. He was Ratso Rizzo, but without the charm. Or the consumption. Reed Diamond was every Reed Diamond character from the past five years. There were two kind of cute bits, one involving Malcolm McDowell and his sensei and another involving an agoraphobic assistant, but other than that, it was something poured out of one of those prepackaged jugs of pancake mix: flat and bland and utterly, utterly predictable.  Blah. I predict it will last exactly three years and then be forgotten by everyone.

Third: I still don't know who killed Rosie. The Killing is down to the final three episodes, and I have yet to figure out whodunnit. That's a rare occurrence.

Forth: Kickoff! It's time for the returning cable series to start showing up over the next six weeks, along with some new stuff on BBC America. What I'm looking forward to the next couple of weeks: The Glades returns tonight on A&E, Tuesday is the double feature of White Collar and Cover Affairs on USA, and on June 18 on BBC America, new SF series Outcasts and inimitable comedy stylings of Matt Lucas and David Walliams in Come Fly With Me.

For those keeping score at home, the official TV program database now stands at 61.  Hopefully this unreasonably high number will come down once I realize how much the new coming programming sucks. Either that or I will be forced to clone myself.