Quick Hits: “Love Story,” “The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins,” “DTF St. Louis”

Well, it has certainly been a minute, huh? Life comes at you fast, as a teenage slacker once said, and that was certainly the case with my extended hiatus. It turns out raising children is as hard as they say, and we found that out on February 26th, when my wife and I welcomed our daughter a week earlier than planned. Everyone is doing great, but finding time to write recreationally was off the table, mostly because of exhaustion. Oddly enough, there was still plenty of time for watching TV. It turns out newborns don’t care what you do as long as you’re holding them.

What this means is that I have a backlog of new shows to discuss, but not the time to write full reviews for them. Enter these “quick hits” that will hopefully help us get back onto some sort of regular schedule while allowing me to share my opinions on the TV I missed covering. We’re starting off strong today with a tale of grand love, Tracy Morgan’s return to network TV, and a comedy/murder mystery with some real teeth.

Love Story

Photo: FX

To date, Ryan Murphy has given us horror, crime, and even sports stories. It only makes sense that love would come next. Although Murphy only has a producer credit, Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette follows the blueprint of his other works enough to make one wonder how much control he actually wields. As the lengthy subtitle suggests, the show tracks the whirlwind romance of Kennedy Jr. (Paul Anthony Kelly) and model Bessette (Sarah Pidgeon) up to their tragic deaths in a plane accident. It’s a tale full of tabloid drama, big romantic gestures, and enough 90s songs to fill a compilation CD. There’s just one problem: our leads are cyphers.

While there are plenty of sparks between them, we never get an actual sense of who these two are. They simply glide from one dramatic moment to the next. The cast all try their best to ring pathos from the material, including Naomi Watts’ bizarre turn as Jackie Onassis, but there just isn’t enough meat on the bone. Love Story clearly wants to say something profound about fame and our cultural obsession with it, but never finds a coherent message. It’s ultimately a slice of 90s nostalgia that fails at both romance and story.

Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette is currently streaming on Hulu.

Final Verdict: Tune Out

The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins

Photo: NBC

One joy of 30 Rock, among the many to choose from, was seeing what wild lines Tracy Morgan would deliver that week. Naturally, the latest collaboration between Morgan and 30 Rock showrunner Robert Carlock has my attention. The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins follows Morgan as a disgraced former NFL star agreeing to take part in a documentary on his life. The director, Arthur Tobin (Daniel Radcliffe), has his own public disgrace that bonds the duo and explains why he and an ever-present camera crew stick around Reggie’s house.

Reggie Dinkins has the fast-paced gag-a-minute pace of Carlock’s other work, but really shines thanks to a tremendous cast. Morgan and Radcliffe prove to be a terrific comedic duo, forming a bond that becomes the heart of the show. With supporting turns from Erika Alexander as Reggie’s manager and ex-wife, Monica, newcomer Precious Way as Reggie’s fiancée, Brina, and Bobby Moynihan as Rusty, a former teammate who lives in the basement. It’s a cast that gels almost instantly and gets even better as the show rolls on. Come for Morgan’s one-liners and stay for the cast chemistry. If you have to give only one network comedy a try this year, you could do much worse than Reggie Dinkins.

The Fall and Rise of Reggie Dinkins is currently streaming on Peacock.

Final Verdict: Tune In

DTF St. Louis

Photo: HBO

Sometimes an actor gives a performance so real that it hurts to watch. That is David Harbour in DTF St. Louis, HBO’s dark comedy about middle age malaise. Harbour plays Floyd Smernitch, an ASL interpreter with a tender heart. He soon befriends the local meteorologist, Clark Forrest (Jason Bateman), a man who seems to have the perfect suburban life. As it turns out, they’re both unhappy in different ways. Their attempts to find joy eventually lead to death, and the show weaves a non-linear path to that moment and the fallout.

Part of what makes DTF St. Louis so engaging is the mix between the mundane and the surreal. At its core, this is a fairly typical crime drama, but the circumstances of the murder keep the viewer on their toes. Bateman, Harbour, and Linda Cardellini as Floyd’s wife Carol, make a fantastic trio to center our story on. While they all get their moments to shine, Harbour is the star here. Maybe it’s just because this isn’t the next role you expect from a Stranger Things alum, but his performance shows a level of vulnerability I forgot he was capable of. With strong acting and an engaging murder mystery at its center, DTF St. Louis stacks up as an early contender for one of the year’s best.

DTF St. Louis is currently streaming on HBO Max.

Final Verdict: Tune In

Wonder Man adds showbiz satire to the superhero genre

Photo: Disney+

We’re now over two years into Marvel’s promised “reshuffling” of its TV productions, and the results are mixed. The goal was to create more programming focused on being an actual TV show and not a movie split into episodic chunks. So far, we’ve got Daredevil, which returns next month, and Ironheart, a holdover from before the restructuring. The latter followed the movie model and suffered for it. Consequently, I had low expectations upon hearing about Wonder Man, another holdover.

A product of Marvel regulars Destin Daniel Cretton (Shang-Chi) and Andrew Guest (Hawkeye), Wonder Man is less a superhero story and more a buddy comedy about two struggling actors. The series follows Simon Williams (Yahya Abdul-Mateen II) a superpowered actor desperate for his big break. A chance encounter with Trevor Slattery (Ben Kingsley), an actor mostly known as the fake terrorist The Mandarin, leads the duo to try out for a remake of sci-fi classic Wonder Man. This leads to some jokes at the expense of Marvel, but the satire is only part of the series’ charm.

The show plays more like a character study than a typical Marvel product. Simon Williams is not a hero. In fact, his powers are a burden to his life and career. Because of the Doorman Clause, superheroes are prohibited from working in the industry. This means Simon has to hide a key part of himself from everyone, a struggle that affects his acting. It’s an obvious metaphor, but one that works well because the writing doesn’t make it the character’s sole focus. Instead, the series takes the time to show us all the facets of Simon’s life and how they can help shape his future. It’s no coincidence that Simon comes into his own as an actor when he learns to accept his powers.

For their part, Abdul-Mateen and Kingsley prove to be a terrific duo to center a show around. Kingsley continues to take the bit role of Slattery and imbue him with a genuine sense of pathos. The best scenes simply involve the two discussing their love of acting. It’s that shared passion that forms their bond and makes them such an endearing pair. Simon overthinks everything, constantly in his own head, but Abdul-Mateen still showcases his charisma and skill. There’s brief moments where Simon shows his true personality and we get glimpses of the Wonder Man comic fans might know. By the end, he’s fully come into his own.

Wonder Man ends up being the perfect example of what Marvel’s TV output can look like moving forward. It doesn’t all have to be epic superhero stories. Sometimes a fun romp through Hollywood with some charming characters is enough. Not everything requires a big CGI fight in the last episode. Conflicts can exist within and still be compelling, even if the person in question can move mountains. The struggle is just as important as the triumph.

Wonder Man is currently streaming on Disney+.

Final Verdict: Tune In

Television Turmoil: Cop Rock has a song in its heart, but no one is listening

For good or for ill, police procedurals have been an integral part of the TV landscape from the beginning. From the scare tactics of Dragnet to the modern cop apologia found in shows like Blue Bloods, police officers have always been on our screens, and often as the heroes. By 1990, the standard cop show had shifted to focus on “realism.” While officers were still portrayed as noble defenders of the law, they were shown as flawed and vulnerable. Programs even began suggesting that some cops might be corrupt, an issue that the “good” cops could only resolve, naturally. Into this era came a show attempting to mix the trappings of a cop show with the flair of Broadway. Cop Rock was its name, and boy, did it deliver both!

Created by powerhouse producer Steven Bochco, the program aimed to follow the LAPD while combining black comedy and musical numbers into the framework of a procedural. Fresh off the success of Hill Street Blues and L.A. Law, Bochco was at the height of his powers, having successfully redefined the entire genre. Bochco produced Cop Rock as part of an extremely lucrative 10-series deal with ABC. Under this deal, ABC guaranteed Bochco’s productions would make it to air. Which goes a long way to explaining how this show made it when everyone around him insisted it wouldn’t work.

Only one woman in this picture is actually part of the cast.

With a main cast hired more for their ability to sing than act, Cop Rock lacked exceptional acting or interesting characters. Instead, it attempted to make up for this with music. The songwriters, under Mike Post’s guidance, received the daunting task of taking the week’s storylines and attempting to engineer songs from the events. Mike Post is known for classic theme songs like The A-Team, The Rockford Files, and Law & Order.

As you might expect, this led to many of the songs feeling out of place. Such as in the pilot, when a jury sings the Gospel inspired, “He’s Guilty,” to a judge in place of giving a verdict. One of the program’s many poor attempts at dark humor. The show’s musical woes were further exasperated by the decision to record each number live instead of the usual method of lip-synching over a pre-recorded track. This led to many of the songs lacking the luster of a polished studio sound.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the involvement of none other than Randy Newman in this project. Newman’s presence is equal parts strange and expected. By the time 1990 rolled around, the musician had firmly entrenched himself as a film composer, but had yet to land on the fertile ground of being Pixar’s go to songwriter. Still, the money must have been pretty good to convince him to not only produce the show’s theme song, “Under the Gun,” but to write all the music in the pilot. He even appears in the opening credits, performing the theme song in-studio as the entire main cast watches on.

This all might have worked out if the show were attempting to be a campy play on serious cop dramas. Sadly, the show literally titled Cop Rock wanted to have its cake and eat it too. In the opening to the pilot episode, heavily armed officers conduct a drug raid on a crack house and arrest about a half-dozen men, all African-American. These men get the supposed last laugh when they launch into the NWA-styled number, “We Got the Power.” Later in the same episode, a drug addicted mother sings a mournful song as she sells her baby for money. It’s a juxtaposition so strong it will give you whiplash.

It would be one thing if it felt like the show was saying anything meaningful with these stories, but it is clearly no different from any number of gritty police procedurals on the air at the time. All of them striving for realism while still portraying cops as the ultimate good, even when they are looking down on a jail cell full of drug addicts or actively engaging in the unlawful questioning of a suspect. “That is just how it is. Sometimes good people have to do bad things to protect us all.” It is the same tired rhetoric you see today, just with some half-assed music numbers to spice it up.

Nothing says “gritty cop show” like some Randy Newman.

Ultimately, no one besides Bochco understood Cop Rock, and the show’s broadcast ended after half a season. To his credit, Bochco would later admit that the show was a failure, even if he still liked the idea. “If you have the guarantee of getting that many shows on the air and you don’t do something bold and adventurous and experimental, then shame on you.” That juicy quote and many others can be found here

In the years since the show’s glorious crash-and-burn, programs like Empire and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend have showcased that musicals can be successful TV shows without having to sacrifice what makes them unique. They also clued in on one of the most crucial mistakes Cop Rock made. If the music doesn’t have much to do with the story, why is it there? A musical isn’t just a bunch of random female officers in a changing room singing about respect. At its best, it comes from characters who have no other way to express themselves and their emotions. TV producers can adapt musicals, just as they adapt other genres. They just need people behind them who actually understand what makes them unique.

Bochco would give ABC what they actually wanted a few years later with the debut of NYPD Blue, but Cop Rock remains a pop culture punchline. A mishmash of tones combining with a poor attempt at taking Broadway’s style and applying it to TV. There have been worse shows put on air, but few take such a big swing with a surefire miss. I almost feel like I have to respect the effort, even if I despise the result.

Next Time: We head back to 1983 for the Tron-inspired trappings of ABC’s Automan.

Hot people keep getting hotter in Ryan Murphy’s The Beauty

Photo: FX

Subtlety is not one of Ryan Murphy’s strengths. The prolific writer/director/producer prefers to batter you with an idea over the course of a season. It’s no surprise, then, that his best works are in the horror genre. A realm where being bludgeoned is more acceptable. In the case of The Beauty, the pleasure only goes skin-deep.

Based on the comic book series of the same name, The Beauty focuses on an FBI investigation into a sexually transmitted treatment that turns users into solid 10s. The problem is that the infected keep getting hotter inside until they explode in a fountain of gore. Leading the investigation are agents Cooper (Evan Peters) and Jordan (Rebecca Hall). The duo has a late-season Mulder and Scully thing going where they like to bang off the clock. The “drug” belongs to billionaire tech mogul Byron Frost (Ashton Kutcher) who is busy sending his personal assassin (Anthony Ramos) to take out the infected. That’s just the action in our main story.

Like many of Murphy’s shows, The Beauty has a lot of ideas to share with us. It wants to say something about our culture and the focus on unattainable perfection. It also wants to be a metaphor for how ruinous being beautiful can be. The series gives us a bit of everything and hopes some of it sticks. Plastic surgeons using the treatment to raise their own profile, the undesirables who want to look like movie stars, and the rich getting an easy thrill from it all. The show doesn’t linger on any of these ideas or characters for long. There’s always some new thought waiting around the corner to give the plot a needed spark.

This haphazard focus also affects the characters. While Peters and Hall give admirable performances, it’s hard to get a grasp on their personalities. They’re dedicated to the job and like to have sex. That sums up a significant portion of the population, but it doesn’t make them interesting. Still, they fare better than Kutcher, who seems to have embodied the fantasy version of Elon Musk that exists only in his head. Out of the assembled cast, Ramos appears to have the most fun as our unnamed assassin. He takes an almost perverse pleasure in dispatching people, and it adds a unique energy to the show. That the energy is basically American Psycho is just a fun bonus. It’s also not the only movie The Beauty owes a debt to.

The series is at its best when we get to the body horror. The treatment changes the infected’s whole person, which brings to mind Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance. Like that film, there’s a clear focus on the gory side of transformation, with this version taking a more Cronenbergian route. The infected become enveloped in a cacoon, emerging the next day with model good looks. The goopy, visceral effects are unnerving and mesmerizing in equal measure. It’s almost enough to sell you on the show.

The Beauty is a satire with nothing particularly fresh to say. It’s suitably stylish and the in-your-face violence is charming at first glance. As you watch, you’re overcome with the sheer vapidity of it all. The show is content to offer vague critiques of beauty culture while overlong shots languish over perfect bodies. In short, it’s Ryan Murphy to a tee: all style and no substance.

The Beauty is streaming on Hulu. New episodes air on Wednesdays.

Final Verdict: Tune Out

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms wins by keeping it simple

Photo: HBO

Spinoffs are always a tricky proposition. That goes double when the original property ends as disastrously as Game of Thrones did in 2019. You now have the tall task of creating something that brings back fans jaded by the previous show’s end. In the case of House of the Dragon, the first spinoff, the plan involved recreating the magic of the original with new characters. Whether it’s been a success is a conversation for another time. For the newest continuation of the franchise, a fresh perspective was in order.

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is not a tale full of palace intrigue and characters battling it out for control. The story is as simple as it gets, enriched by the world surrounding it. We follow Ser Duncan the Tall (Peter Claffey), “Dunk” for short, after the death of his mentor as he tries to make a name for himself. Dunk has strength on his side and nothing else. With the odds stacked against him, he soon takes an orphan named only Egg (Dexter Sol Ansell) as his squire. Together, the duo might just be able to make a name for themselves, provided they’re not horribly maimed first.

Seven Kingdoms is primarily an underdog tale, one that feels oddly uplifting. It’s a tone rarely seen in Game of Thrones, but works here where the stakes are much lower. Dunk’s goals are plain and easily understandable. Most importantly, there are no ulterior motives at play. He is as honest as they come. Whether that makes him a good or bad knight in this world is one of the show’s primary themes. The lighter mode allows the series to languish in its setting. This grants us a deeper view of Westeros as the commoners see it. It also makes things all the more thrilling when those of higher status arrive to ruin things.

While Dunk and Egg encounter many characters on their adventure, it is their friendship that holds the show together. Claffey finds the right balance between dim and naïve earnestness for Dunk. His quest to prove himself as a knight is foolish, but there’s a certain nobility in it. That quality makes Dunk worthy of our attention. Egg, to Ansell’s credit, compliments him well by being the more realistic of the duo. There’s a version of this character that slides into the tiresome “smart aleck kid” routine. Thankfully, Ansell keeps Egg on the right side of precocious. Both characters see elements of their best selves in each other, and the audience recognizes it too. They make each other better in the way the best duos do.

It’s unclear what Game of Thrones as a franchise has left to offer. If Seven Kingdoms is any indication, there are options if you’re willing to look for fresh perspectives. The world of Westeros is vast, and there are certainly other stories out there. For now, I’m content to have another installment that I enjoy. Sometimes the best stories are simple, and this show is a perfect illustration of that.

A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is streaming on HBO Max. New episodes air on Sundays.

Final Verdict: Tune In