The day that TV died

You know, I actually woke up in a pretty good mood today. Having moved to a four-day (but still 40-hour) work week back in September or so, Mondays have turned into a perfectly pleasant day of the week, and returning to work on Tuesday morning just doesn't seem like much of a drag at all.

And then I wake up and see this. I probably should have seen it coming, but I confess I didn't. The Writers' Guild of America strike, which has managed to linger a lot longer now than I'd ever imagined it would, has killed television.

And if you watch TV like I do, meaning avoiding reality TV the way a vegetarian does hamburgers, that's not an even slight overstatement. The studios, none too quietly, have stocked up on reality fare (on CBS alone that means at least these three new "winners": "The Secret Talents of Stars," "Game Show in My Head" and "America's Top Dog" (and, as much I love cute dogs, any chance that I'd tune in for even a minute of that one was killed by what happened Monday, which I will actually get to very quickly, I promise.)

To pave the way for this onslaught, all the big studios, almost simultaneously, started Friday and continued in a big way Monday to slash their overall deals with writers. All told (and still counting, for sure), ABC Studios, Warner Bros. TV, CBS Paramount Network TV, Universal Media Studios and 20th Century Fox TV have cut nearly 75 "overalls" (which apparently aren't just something you wear on a farm.)

It wouldn't be as much of a big deal if it didn't hit shows that I've grown to love hard. It virtually guarantees the death of two CW shows that had just made my Monday nights (especially with the rather slow-to-even-get-started second season of "Heroes.") Terminated Monday were both David Guarascio and Moses Port, co-creators of the very funny and getting even better "Aliens in America." And two of the major writers for "Everybody Hates Chris," Aron Abrams and Greg Thompson, also got the ax Monday (and in a move that spells the certain death of two frosh shows I didn't bother to tune in for, the creators of Fox's "K-Ville" and NBC's "Journeyman" are also now looking for employment.)

It's hard not to be extremely pessimistic about this, because the only logical next move (unless this drives the two sides to come to an agreement) is that showrunners will be the next to go. I've had enough trouble dealing, for example, with "The Office" being shut down since mid-fall, but the day is clearly coming when creator (of the American version, I realize) Greg Daniels and his crew could be shown the door, along with the creators of almost any show you can name. Sheesh.

Besides, it's not like the audience for non-reality (a k a actually entertaining) TV isn't out there. Fox's "Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles" drew about 18.3 million viewers Sunday night, for a 7.6 share and the biggest TV debut of the year so far (which, given the circumstances, is clearly a dubious honor at best.)

If Monday really was the day TV died, there is at least an extremely selfish silver lining in it for me in that my call for movies to replenish my Netflix queue garnered a total of 66 movies that I either had somehow not seen or longed to see again, and as a gesture of gratitude I do indeed intend to watch them all. That starts with two suggestions from always-welcome reader Ashok (who compiles a very readable list of his movie reviews here): "Man on the Train," a Patrice Leconte flick starring the singer Johnny Hallyday (who clearly, like almost every man on the planet, just wants to be Serge Gainsbourg), and then the documentary "51 Birch Street."

It turned out to be a far bigger outpouring than I had expected, so a hearty huzzah and thanks to all who participated (and please, as you find more movies you love, don't hesitate to share them with me.)

And, just to show that, despite all this bile, my mood isn't completely dark, here's a pic of Disney's next big princess, who will be played by "Dreamgirl" Anika Noni Rose. Even if they couldn't look any further than Randy Newman for most of the songs, a grand Disney animated musical, starring its first black princess and set in New Orleans, can only be a good thing (I hope.) Peace out.

"Terminate" this TV project immediately

I don't really like being in the business of telling people not to watch something, especially when I haven't seen it yet myself. It's just not my natural setting, I guess.

That said, I several times had to sit through a commercial Sunday night during Fox's Sunday night animated lineup, which was pretty darn funny. Just in case anyone out there has more of a life than me (which often isn't much of a challenge), I can tell you it was for Fox's simply craptastic take on the "Terminator" saga. I do hope I'm wrong about this, but it just gives me a really queasy feeling.

Which is a real shame, because being a devoted "Firefly"/"Serenity" fan, I wish nothing but the best for Summer Glau (which would be, of course, a revival of "Firefly" on the Sci-Fi Channel, but that keeps getting less and less likely.

So, what's my beef with this new "Terminator"? Well, besides that it's just thoroughly unnecessary, my animosity peaked Sunday night when I heard this rather unwitty exchange between whatever yarnhead is now playing John Connor and the Terminator played by Ms. Glau, as they're getting into a car:

Connor: I'll take shotgun.
Glau: I'll take 9-millimeter.

Now, if that's not enough to make all you Ahnold fans out there cringe, the terminator played by Ms. Glau is actually named Cameron. Believe me, I couldn't make this stuff up.

But why should I get so worked up about a silly TV show that doesn't even premiere until Jan. 13 on Fox? Well, the short answer is I probably shouldn't, but "The Terminator" series has always been close to my heart if for no better reason than Salisbury, Md., the tiny burg where I spent my entire childhood, is also the hometown of Linda Hamilton (and Frank Perdue the late chicken king, for that matter.) Besides, is it too much to ask that my favorite movie franchises not get watered down to pure garbage?

I know that, with the writers' strike ongoing, your choices will be limited this winter, but please, please, please don't watch this new "Terminator."

Good things to come

I had planned to offer an equally bitter comment about Will Smith's "I Am Legend," but seeing that it made $76.5 million this past weekend, the biggest December opening ever, just zapped all the energy out of me to do so.

I'll just say this: The key to my disappointment with "I Am Legend" is pretty much summed up in the movie by Smith's Robert Neville himself. Neville, along with supposedly searching for the cure to a virus he helped create but is somehow immune to, spends a lot of time listening to Bob Marley.

Now, I've got nothing at all against Mr. Marley, and am in fact listening to "Legend" right now (I'd have to imagine that the makers of this movie thought the coincidence in titles was rather clever.) But, back to my rather longwinded point. Of all the great Bob Marley tunes out there, Neville is fixated on "Three Little Birds," easily the most generic one of all.

To me, the movie "I Am Legend" exists in the same realm, a completely tired tale about a man-made virus (stop me if you've seen "28 Days Later" or any number of better movies on this subject) that manages to build very little interest at all before trotting out monsters that were swiped most directly from the end of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" but could come from any number of paint-by-numbers horror flicks. The best thing about "I Am Legend," in fact, was the two trailers that ran before it, one for "Iron Man" and a simply sensational look at "Dark Knight" (Heath's Joker is just gonna kick royal ass.)

And one more thing, while were on the subject. As cool as director Francis Lawrence's vision of post-apocalyptic New York is, I'd like to call for an immediate moratorium on blowing up my favorite city in the world on the big screen. I don't know why movie directors get such a thrill out of decimating NYC, but I'm just damn tired of seeing it. 'Nuff said.

But, enough bile for a Monday morning. For the first time in well, a very long time, there are actually three movies coming out this weekend that I want to see.

I'm thoroughly on board the Dewey Cox bandwagon, and am convinced that "Walk Hard" will be that rare spoof that manages to sustain its gag and be funny from start to finish. And, though I can definitely take or leave Tom Hanks, the teaming up of Mike Nichols and Aaron Sorkin for "Charlie Wilson's War" should also be pretty entertaining too.

The one I most want to see, however, is Tim Burton's "Sweeney Todd." I'll find out tomorrow morning if this one is too bloody to open in my little corner of the world this weekend, which I fear may be the case but obviously hope won't be.

Three movies worth seeing? Now that's what I call a Christmas gift!

And, since anyone who sat through all that certainly deserves a reward, here's the trailer for "Leatherheads," the football flick starring George Clooney, John Krasinski and, I have the misfortune of telling you, Renee Zellweger. Enjoy, and have an entirely bearable Monday. Peace out.