FOCUS GROUP SQUIGGLE MADNESS

Word up.

CNN's finger on the pulse of thirty "undecideds" (winners, all) in Ohio has been a matter of contention in my apartment. Leila likes the idea of "more information," while I call it "distracting bullshit" and swear I'll start throwing furniture if we don't switch to the calm of MSNBC. God forbid we don't find out what a gender split of THIRTY "undecideds" thought until immediately after the politicians have finished talking.

Obama Is Funny

It looks like the media's reaction to SNL's clumsy Obama-McCain debate sketch is going to be "hey, did you see Tina Fey as Palin again?" Darrell Hammond plays McCain well enough (Dana Carvey's Bush in a squat body), but with Obama set to win, they need to spend the next two weeks figuring out what Barack Obama's "game" is (my girlfriend is in a UCB-taught sketch comedy group so I've been learning the lexicon).

Obama's "game" is not the Chicago politics no one cares about (if the sketch inspires McCain's campaign to start yammering about Rezko, it's going to be, at worst, annoying, but still...), and it sure as fuck isn't "playing the race card." The latter bit was so off-key that they're either flailing perilously or acceding too much ground to "Ann Coulter pal" Jim Downey, with the show since 1976. "Fair and balanced" doesn't mean they have make up negative qualities. But the problem with mocking Obama is that what makes him such a promising and heroic figure in America isn't something you really want to mock unless you don't like him. For fans (which I assume most of SNL consists of), it's almost like trying to do a parody of Martin Luther King. What they need to realize is that he's not Martin Luther King.

Nothing on the show makes me laugh harder than his Nicholas Fehn, but Fred Armisen is all wrong for Obama. Obama is a nerd (remember Ellen's dance party?), but for a nerd, he's got some swagger. Those smooth Diddy-esque shots of Obama leaving planes in a great suit and sunglasses are probably the best source of comedy material about him (the Scarlett Johannsen joke got closest to it), but Armisen doesn't incorporate that stylishness into his caricature. Instead, he gives us with a halting, closed-off wonk.

SNL needs someone who can come off confident and unflappable. Someone who can hop from serious expressions to bright grins. Someone who can capture Obama's charm in a slightly oversized way, and make us laugh from the recognition. They need Tim Meadows.



So why not let Armisen off the hook and call him up? I'm sure he's got less to do these days than Tina Fey! And btw, Michelle Obama's going to be the first lady soon. Let's not give make-up artists a migraine trying to make Kristen Wiig presentable for the role.

"Come on, comics aren't just for kids! It's a viable artistic medium! I'll let you borrow my copy of Watchmen! Just try it!"

If the first season of Heroes accomplishes only one thing, it's that it gives folks who never bothered reading about superheroes the chance to experience the kind of grand dizziness you get from a great comic book story arc without ever wondering what inspired that guy to put his underwear on over his tights. It lifts its mix of earthly emotion and surreal imagery from Joss Whedon and the better Marvel films, but unlike on Buffy, all the padding and one-off stories clearly connect to the season-long narrative. Watching it all over a day and a half was not unlike burning through a classic compendium - a bombastic cliffhanger hitting you every twenty-plus pages - except you couldn't take it into the bathroom with you.

I'm a sucker for "real people discovering great power comes with great responsibility" jazz and Heroes plays it out on such an epic scale (without any costumes!) that, despite some pat TV dramatics (and the rather trashy choice in guest stars - Malcolm McDowell? Eric Roberts??), the show feels like an unprecedented success. There are a lot of traps future seasons could fall into: stock adventures, contradictory details burdening the core mystery and requiring inscrutable exposition, increasingly uninteresting new characters, basically all the shit that happened to X-Files. Thankfully, the first season has enough closure that, if necessary, it could be appreciated on its own.

There may be other examples I'm unaware of, but the decision to have subtitles not only appear at the bottom of the screen but also beside or above the speaker was truly inspired. It allows for more striking compositions, hinting at comic book art without using actual word balloons, which would have been a painful contrivance (Ang Lee didn't even try that one in The Hulk). While it's not really an option for films where the language spoken is the language of the country that made it, American films incorporating foreign language sequences would be wise to rip this off.

P.S. the show is scored by Wendy And Lisa! More shows need to provide me with that kind of heartwarming opening credit.

These children are now old enough to be VH1 dating show contestants. Probably too old.

Top Five People I'd Rather See Get a VH1 Dating Show Than Bret Michaels

5. Liza Minelli. Given 50 men, let's see if she STILL winds up a beard!

4. David Lee Roth. Dude is like Ozzy, Flav and Bret Michaels put together. Reality TV gold. All his talk radio failure proved is that he needs an editor, and VH1's got the best. The opening credits can recreate the boardwalk sequence from "California Girls." Hell, make it the theme song!

3. Britney Spears. 50 skeevy men fight for the hand of the world's most famous single mother! Too famous for this kind of shamefulness, you say? Don't forget, she's already HAD a reality show. Within five years, she'll have divorced again and be ready to accept her role as a has-been. Actually, judging by her current desperation, make it three.

2. Tim Gunn. The problem with a gay-themed dating game is how quickly it could turn into the man-on-man orgy middle America isn't ready for. But not with Tim Gunn around! Gunn claims he's been resigned to singlehood ever since he was jilted by a philanderous lover in the '80s. The '80s! Sounds like VH1 needs to stage an intervention! Can they, with the help of 50 dashing, intelligent and fashionable men...Make It Work?

1. Morrissey. One of the few celebrities I can think of where the dating pool could be co-ed. At the end of each episode, the remaining contestants would be given gladioli and told "I think you understand me." The tears! The screaming! The bicycle rides! The potential for bi-curious heartbreak! "Morrissey, I saw Shauna making out with Lance." "Lance...you've lied about your interest in me..." "no, Morrissey, no..." "I am...repulsed by your treachery. You don't understand me, Lance. Please leave." "MORRISSEY!!!! MORRISSEY, NOOOOOO!!!!" Security goons pull Lance away as Morrissey turns from the miserable affair, his face awash in sadness. But eventually, one lucky man or woman will get to hear "There Is A Light That Will Never Go Out" sung by candlelight. And if no one understands him, there's always next season.

I haven't seen David Milch's John From Cincinnati yet, but after wasting a weekend watching Season 3 of Deadwood I won't be in any rush. Even by Season 2 I was basically watching it as a soap, indifferent to its artistic merit as long as the characters I was emotionally invested in were flung about dramatically. But thanks to the startling number of uninteresting individuals thrust into the mix, most of the cast is only given one or two Emmy moments over the entire season. The Doc is reduced to coughing fits and Sol Star gets a minute or two of teary time with Trixie near the end in exchange for episode after episode of nodding at angry people. Sometimes you'd just get a second long shot of a character to remind you they're still alive.

Instead of focusing on characters fans already know, we get a completely worthless season-long subplot involving Brian Cox and a troupe of actors (as if this show really needed more empty theatricality), countless scenes with a blustering racist who won't shut up until he's rendered comatose by a horse, Wyatt Earp and his brother (just so I could scream "THAT'S WHO HE IS! I THOUGHT IT WAS NATHAN FILLION!" when my housemate asked if the guy from Queer As Folk has shown up yet), some unfunny British dude who looks just like the Russian dude, the painful return of Stephen "My Voice Is My Passport, Verify Me" Toblowsky and dozens of anonymous no-goodniks working for evil Gerald McRaney. And while Major Dad does an OK job as George Hearst, his presence can't help but demote the show to CBS quality rather than HBO. If they'd wrapped up his belabored drama half way through, maybe we could have seen more of Cy Tolliver seething with impotent rage and Al Swearingen remembering he's supposed to be a bad guy. The bloat was annoying enough over a weekend, but I can't imagine what it must have been like to turn on HBO week after week and find out how little the plot had progressed. Its cancellation feels like a mercy killing, as Milch would have undoubtedly found a shark for the townsfolk to jump in Season 4.

According to the bonus features on every season, Milch writes his episodes laying on the floor with several pillows, surrounded by writers, assistants and other cronies. A stenographer takes down his every word, which he then edits off of a giant TV screen. While that is totally fucking awesome, when the pottymouth Shakespeare got painfully ornate (in some episodes it feels like everyone's as desperately florid as E.B. Farnum), I couldn't help but think of this dude literally resting on his laurels, beaming with pride at the words on the monitor before him. Lacking much to distract me, I pictured that a lot.

Leila thought someone on John From Cincinnati had my last name, but it turned out one of the leads is named "Mitch Yost." Close enough for me to check it out someday, though.