Chuck is a fantastic series. When it started, I put it beside Reaper and said they were pretty much the same show with any given week being a coin toss as to which would be better. In many important ways, that was true of their first seasons, but this year Chuck has rocketed into the stratosphere of awesome. Before, it was simply a show I watched, one among many, but this year it’s become one of my top five favourite shows on television. Unfortunately, the ratings are not that great. I’ve lamented Chuck’s poor ratings before, especially in light of the weak fare it’s put up against most weeks, but it never really hit me that the show might not come back.

But that’s the truth of the situation. Chuck has yet to get a greenlight for a third season, and as much as I hold out hope that NBC will keep one of their few genuinely entertaining shows alive for another year, I know that NBC has done little to warm me to their cause; Surface, The Black Donnellys, Andy Barker, P.I., Journeyman, and The Book of Daniel are all shows that were cancelled too quickly by NBC.

I’m leaving my hovel to venture out into the real world tonight, so I won’t be able to watch Chuck, live and vibrating with excitement as I normally do, tonight. But don’t let me stop you. Watch Chuck. You won’t regret it.

Last week, when Prison Break took over Dollhouse’s time slot and its ratings were even worse than Dollhouse’s, I thought that maybe — just maybe — Dollhouse had a chance of renewal. But then the ratings for this week came in and Dollhouse hit yet another series low and underperformed compared to the Prison Break episode that aired earlier that night. So Dollhouse looks truly, and unequivocally, dead. But let’s not dwell, let’s follow the show into the dark.

This week, the main story was that of a dead Dollhouse client. She planned regular brain scans with the Dollhouse and a plan to revive her in a Doll for a brief period of time after her death. To solve her own murder. Talk about paranoid.

Well, I guess not in this instance.

Echo takes on the role, and while the murder mystery is relatively interesting, it’s not too hard to unravel the clues, and the best part about that entire story thread is the idea that the Dollhouse can offer eternal life, as Topher says, “if they really like you.”

This eternal life troubles Boyd greatly, who seems to be playing the role that the professorial dude from Man on the Street played. As he said then, if the Dollhouse’s technology existed, “as a species, we will cease to matter.” Boyd, not having caught on to the ultimate implications of the Dollhouse until now, says of the eternal life he’s discovered the Dollhouse can offer that it’s “the beginning of the end,” and while his claim that morality doesn’t exist without the fear of death seems a little juvenile to be coming from a Joss Whedon show, the idea that humanity would be altered at a fundamental level if immortality, in any form, was invented remains true.

Heady issues were being tossed around right and left this week, with all three plots examining the Dollhouse in a new and exciting way. First, the just discussed immortality. Second, Topher loads Sierra up with a friend personality. Because Topher has no friends. Which is sad, really. But all of the scenes of Topher and Sierra geeking out are all so fun and airy, that the implication doesn’t hit you until Adelle’s monologue about the need to feel connected, to have friends, to evade loneliness however you can.

Finally, we get Paul Ballard’s sad little tale. He’s fucked, both literally and figuratively, by the Dollhouse this week. He’s unable to break it off with Mellie lest he reignite the Dollhouse’s investigations, but unwilling to invest in a relationship with her. Ultimately, Mellie offers herself up to Paul with no expectations. She doesn’t care that he doesn’t like her, so long as he continues to let he be in his presence. It’s incredibly debasing, and emphasizes that Mellie’s so called love for Paul is nothing more than a programmed parameter. After this monologue, a switch seems to click in Paul’s mind, and he no longer sees Mellie as a person, but as an object. And in that moment, he sinks to his baser instincts and fucks her. The next morning in the shower, as the water fails to clean the filth from his body he tells Mellie that he’s found a new Dollhouse client, but he doesn’t say that it’s him. Paul’s scenes were the shortest and the least frequent but I thought they packed the biggest punch, despite the discussion of immortality in the A plot.

This week’s Dollhouse was all over the place in the best sort of way; none of the stories really had anything to do with each other, and the ideas they were exploring were all mostly independent, but they were all beautifully explored while servicing the growth of the characters along the way. Which is the way good television works.

It was only a few days ago that I published my first review of Kings which was more critical than praising and already the show has been made even deader. NBC has removed Kings from their schedule entirely now, opting to burn off the remaining episodes in the summer.

I’m not too sore about this, to be honest. Not only is most of my outrage over Kings’ poor ratings died away as it’s become clear that nobody was watching, but this week’s episode made me worry about the show’s direction. Michael Green, who was a writer on Heroes previously, has been heading up Kings and doing an admirable job of it, but as a former writer for Heroes I wonder if he’s picked up some of their bad habits.

Heroes focuses far too heavily on plot, to the detriment of its characters; in fact, at this point they’re all vapid caricatures imbued with so little substance it’s hard to care at all about how the story continues. I’m not saying that’s what’s happening on Kings, merely that it’s a distinct possibility and this week’s episode did seem more focused on plot progression than character development. I sincerely hope that my feelings about this week’s episode don’t carry forward and that the show concludes in a satisfying way. I’m just aware that the show could let me down. At least I have a couple months to cushion the blow.

Just when I thought I was out… this week’s episode of Dollhouse was too good to not talk about. Luckily, I’m incredibly fickle, so next week’s might send me back into my self-imposed silence. But for now, I have to talk — nay, gush — about this week’s Dollhouse episode.

First things first: the inside man. This episode leads you to believe that the climax will reveal who has been feeding Ballard information via Actives, but when it’s revealed that Dominic was the inside man — not only that, but he was on a mission from the NSA to ensure that the Dollhouse doesn’t fail — we’re left with the initial question. Here’s who I think it is: DeWitt. My theory relies on one thing: Topher didn’t know that DeWitt was Ms Lonely Hearts. Which, to me, means that DeWitt added a secondary protocol to the Roger Imprint that redefined who he was in love with.

In some instances, I’d be willing to accept Topher not knowing what the engagement is in detail, but to define an imprint which professes to the Dollhouse staff love for an octogenarian while secretly loving DeWitt without knowing some of the details seems unlikely. So, the logical conclusion is that the imprint-overrider that Topher found this episode was being used by DeWitt to adjust the Roger imprint, while also sending messages to Ballard. The only other alternative is that there are a bunch of imprint adjusters hooked into the system that Topher failed to notice. Some of you might say that Ivy, Topher’s assistant is still a suspect but Echo’s spy-catcher imprint would’ve detected that because she interrogated her. Of course, if the messages to Ballard continue, we’ll know I was wrong.

Now that I’ve recorded my idiocy so that others can point to it and laugh later on, I’ll talk about some other things. Echo’s growth this episode was great. The idea of a Doll asking to be imprinted is an awesome stepping stone towards full-on self-awareness. That said, I have to wonder how much the early scene where Ivy gives a lackluster opening script greeting to Echo was a part of that. Immediately afterward, Topher begins talking about the effect it can have on a freshly wiped Doll. Later on, she sees Sierra taken to the chair and then leaving the room a hardened spy. Before then, she sees November go into the chair and return as someone who looks at Echo waving at her with confusion. The glimpses of Echo observing and seemingly understanding these conversations and events going on around her were excellent. And the non-chronological storytelling of the episode enhanced this by letting us see Echo at different points in this arc.

Even the first scene, where Echo says that “she made a mistake and now she’s sad” about Dominic’s Attic-ing, which could be missed one first viewing reveals more of Echo’s growth. Echo has looked beyond the obvious and found the hidden answer: DeWitt’s faith in Dominic was misplaced, and that hurt her. And if you subscribe to my theory, she’s hurt in more than one way because she has to give up her Roger imprint because her surreptitious imprint rewriter is now gone.

Sierra’s Alias-esque foray at the NSA was great for the sheer sci-fi spy-action-ness of it. But what was even better was Ballard’s brief appearance this episode. First off, he’s clearly become increasingly paranoid since he discovered the bugs. Which apparently helps when you’re investigating massive conspiracies, because he’s unspooled more about the Dollhouse and its massive scope in this brief separation from Mellie than he had in the preceding months working on the Dollhouse case for the FBI. But when Mellie returns all his paranoia goes away… at least until Mellie switched into imformant mode and tells Paul not to reveal the details of his investigation to Mellie because she’s been sent to spy on him. And now Ballard had to keep up the romance with Mellie, all the while knowing she’s programmed to love him and having to keep pretty much everything from her. Something’s gotta give, people.

Lots happened, and not in the “a lot happened” sort of way last week played out. This time things seem to have actually changed. Not only is Echo’s greatest adversary at the Dollhouse now out of commission, but her increasing awareness is no longer seen as a threat but as an advantage. It’ll be interesting to see how that, and Boyd’s new position as head of security, affect the situation at the Dollhouse next week. The ratings? Who gives a fuck about the ratings at this point? OK fine. They were just as shitty as ever.

Kings has been taken off of NBC’s Sunday schedule, and Variety is Johnny on the Spot with the monarchy puns.

After yet another trouncing by entirely inferior television, it’s being move to the less high-profile Saturday night 8pm time slot. The worst part of this is its being replaced by longer episodes of Dateline. I’ve never understood this response from networks. The show is complete and ready to air in its entirety. There is nothing better to put in that time slot. And yet the networks invariably opt to air repeats or unnecessarily long versions of slightly more popular shows. I understand that ratings are important, but at the same time, giving a show a chance to build a connection with the audience, even if that happens to take a while, seems advantageous to me.

It’s obvious to anybody now that Kings is going to get cancelled. It’s a sad day. Not an outrageous day, and that makes it all the more sadder.

You may have noticed recently that my site has been atrociously slow. I know I’ve felt it when attempting to write my posts recently. Sadly, it’s not because I’ve had a sudden surge in web traffic, but rather because my web host is not doing a very good job of handling my mediocre traffic. I’ve contacted them and they’ve initiated steps that will hopefully fix this problem in the next few days, though the site may disappear briefly during the upgrade. In the meantime, schedule a block of time to read my undoubtedly unnecessarily long Dollhouse review in the coming days.

Kings begins this week with a sign of things to come, both literally and figuratively, in the form of a prophetic dream. Kings Silas bellows across a cloudy rain drenched sky “Don’t Go” and David wakes up to see his dead brother repeating the message: “Don’t Go.” And then he actually wakes up. The more of this show I see, the more it reminds me of Carnivàle: epic in scope, unafraid of complex storytelling and morally ambiguous protagonists, and completely willing to tell an earnest story with mysticism and drama.

This week the Premier of Gath came to Shiloh to sign the peace treaty that has been hashed out in the time between then and the premiere. Meanwhile, one quick to nip a butterfly-crown-based prophecy not in his favour in the bud, Silas orders his General to kill David. Lucky for David, the Premier wants to meet the young man who bravely put his life on the line for peace, so the killing is put on hold. Unlucky for David, the Generals of Gath aren’t as fond of peace as the Premier — something about being shown up by a punk kid with an RPG — and are willing to throw away the treaty for any minor infraction.

With the Generals of Gath readying to abandon the peace that his brother died for, David’s desperation reaches a fever pitch when he sees a sign held by a child saying “Don’t Go” and he steals a cab to block the path of the departing Gath envoy. During the ensuing stand-off, Silas and the Premier reestablish peace. The Premier of Gath says his people are jealous of Gilboa, for their industry and prosperity. But most of all for their glimmering city of Shiloh. And that’s where the Port of Prosperity comes in to play.

The Port of Prosperity is the land David’s father died protecting. It’s also one of the richest areas of Gilboa, taken from Gath years ago, and its riches were used to build Shiloh. Silas agrees to give that land to Gath, in exchange for peace. David’s loyalty to the King has been solidified by his selfless efforts for peace and Silas calls off the assassination.

Throughout this, there’s a story of the prince and his loyal squadron going on a shopping spree which leads to the news of the depleted reserves of Gilboa’s Treasury becoming public. Whether this was a part of CrossGen’s attempt to spread worry about the royal treasury or was merely coincidental is left unclear, but given the scene between William Cross and Jack Benjamin in the premiere, it seems likely it was a coordinated attack. The missing gold also causes King Silas to reach out to a “long dead” former ally he’s kept locked away for years. The former king’s gold was missing when Silas conquered his capital years ago, and been kept secret all these years, but Silas has a hold over the old king: his loved ones are still alive, but he won’t tell which of them are still alive until he gets the gold. And with this thirty-year-long gambit, the King saves the nation from overnight bankruptcy, much to the chagrin of William Cross.

Luckily, the King’s wife has finally decided that enough is enough, stepped aside from her diplomatic party planning duties, and convinced her brother to let the King win this battle. Apparently, Cross’ son has been exiled from the city for many years, and she can find a way to allow his return should he let this discretion slide.

In addition to all of this, David’s mother is in Shiloh attempting to receive her son’s veteran’s pension, and also trying to get David to return home. Not because she thinks he’s not capable of surviving the city, but because he’s too capable. She knows he has a destiny and that is what worries her.

Threaded through all of this is the romance between Michelle Benjamin and David. What seemed set in stone at the end of the premiere has now become very much a hazy prospect. Silas has reminded the princess of a oath she must not break. Is she betrothed to an ally? Is she a member of a convent of some sort? It’s left unclear, but regardless it quickly established a barrier to their relationship. How fast that barrier will fall remains to be seen.

So that’s a lot of stuff happening in this episode, and all of this is painfully oversimplified for the sake of brevity — after my 5500 word review of Dollhouse from the other day, I’m trying to constrain my word counts — but what’s clear is that there’s a lot more mystery in the past that this show will explore. The exiled son, the locked away deposed king, the princess’ oath, and the furthering of the signs that David is destined for far more than an advising role at the feet of King Silas. The story continues to fascinate me, and the sincerity of the storytelling is refreshing. I may be a cynic, but that doesn’t mean all art must devolve into nihilistic ultra-realism.

Unfortunately, the beauty of this show is mostly being ignored. The ratings for the second episode were even worse than the already atrocious ratings that the premiere suffered. This sort of very grandiose epic storytelling is new for network television, and I hope that these brief stumbles are not a sign that the public at large has no interest in it.

Three years ago I noticed a bunch of CDs on sale on amazon.ca for 99 cents each. I already had an order that needed a few more dollars to get free shipping and I love music, so I added a few for the sake of curiousity. A few weeks later the order arrived and I immediately started going through the CDs I purchased. The first I opened up to listen to was The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place by Explosions in the Sky. Immediately, I knew that I had discovered something amazing. Hidden in this seeming pile of refuse was an album that from its first echoed notes took hold of me and drew me in to a world I had never experienced previously and left me wanting more.

Eight months ago, I walked into a low capacity hall at San Diego Comic-Con for an early morning panel about an upcoming show from NBC called Kings. After a short discussion of the basic premise of the show — an alternate history drama set in a monarchy named Gilboa inspired by the biblical tale of David and Goliath — they screened the first twenty minutes of the pilot episode, and I experienced that same enraptured envelopment into a brand new world that that amazing album had beset upon me. Now, eight months after that initial burst of interest followed by a relative dearth of new information, Kings has finally premiered and my first impression has only been enriched by the complexities I once imagined were possible now made manifest by the remainder of this amazing premiere.

Over at Ain’t It Cool News, they’ve compiled snippets of the many reviews of this show. Some of them are fairly positive, but it seems as though most of them chide the show for having cheesy aspects, or soap opera trappings, comparing it to shows like Dynasty and Dallas. I’m not sure why any show that manages to tell a serious story is immediately a soap opera. Is Battlestar Galactica a soap opera because of its intense dour depiction of life? Of course not. It’s merely a show willing to deal with things seriously, as is Kings. To call the show a soap opera is to call Deadwood, or other such character drama, a soap opera: it’s not disingenuous to do so, but it belittles the show to use such a pejorative. All of the criticisms, though, are not unfounded. But the good, and more importantly the potential for good, more than outweighs what little there is to legitimately criticise.

The main story of the premiere, and likely of the rest of the series, is of David, played by Christopher Egan. Taking his name from the biblical slingshot-wielder, the show begins with David living the rural life as King Silas of Gilboa — Ian McShane in a typically brilliant performance — unveils the shiny new capital, Shiloh, built upon the ashes of the cities destroyed by the years of war that ravaged Gilboa before Silas united the lands in the unification War, a costly conflict that left David fatherless with a disenfranchised mother.

Before the inaugural speech is over, tensions are rising with the neighbour nation Gath and two years later the war carries on with David now at the front lines. When the survivors of an ambushed squad are taken hostage by Gath, David defies the orders and, crossing the front lines, rescues the hostages, including the King’s son. This rescue is no small feat given that the front lines of the war are lined by Gath ‘Goliath’ tanks, a menacing visage to all Gilboan soldiers. And so David returns as the hero who slayed a Goliath and saved the King’s son. That’s the first twenty minutes wrapped up in a few sentences. There’s much more there, but I find that the more I like a show the more I want to detail every nuance of the scene (which is why I rarely write about Lost; I don’t want to end up writing 15,000 words per episode) so I’ll leave the rest to the viewer to relish. I will say however, that those twenty minutes are the best and most effective exercise in world building I’ve ever seen.

This premiere has already established that, while this is an alternate history with kingdoms where America once reigned, this world only diverges from ours in the last two centuries. David’s love of classical piano, and more importantly his playing of a piece by Liszt, underscore an implicit history that will certainly get explored as the series continues. How did the world of Liszt change such that not America but Gilboa and Gath were formed? Hopefully, the writers already know the answer.

Perhaps as impressive as the world building is the character building, with every character having complexity and ambiguities which can be developed and exploited over time. The King’s wife, for example, is a quiet but manipulative woman who publicly expresses a distaste for politics while privately and silently ensuring her family’s skeletons stay in their respective closets. Similarly, his son portrays himself a womanizer to the paparazzi to keep up appearances, despite his homosexuality. His desire for power is clear but he is neither the villain nor the brat in this story. At least not yet.

The King’s brother-in-law, the head of a large corporation, Crossgen, which has bankrolled Silas’ rule for years is the most villainous character introduced thus far. His need for war to ensure quarterly profits impel him to push Silas to war despite peace being offered. It’s not until David, once again defying the will of the King, bravely reaches out to their faceless enemy, as the Goliaths stare him down, and brings about renewed peace talks, that his lust for war is sated. Even then, his plots and machinations continue apace to replace the King and continue the profitable war.

David is the archetypal hero. He is a farm-boy turned war hero who doesn’t understand nor desire the world into which he’s been thrown. He quickly falls for the King’s daughter, herself a passionate supporter of improving the nation’s health care much to the King’s dismay. His star rises precipitously, first due the the rescue of the hostages, then later from his part in the reestablishment of peace talks with Gath.

And of course, King Silas himself, around whom all this intrigue revolves, is one of the great draws of this show. Ian McShane, playing a character as conniving as Al Swearengen in a world much more civilized yet just as brutal as Deadwood, is a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stale network television environment. Silas is a complicated man, a melange of numerous regal stereotypes. His opening speech, and most likely every speech after that, describes a story from the founding days of Gilboa when a flock of butterflies came upon him and perched upon his head in a ring as if they were a living crown. A sign from God. And yet, he has none of the trappings of the typical religiously driven leaders of our time: he knows full-well that evolution is a truth, and devotes a family breakfast to the topic; he accepts his son’s homosexuality as a part of his nature; he is an eloquent leader, who uses his words for both good and ill; he is a brilliant tactician whose military experience lent itself to the political travails of a King. Of course, his religiosity is tempered by his desire for power, and when the Reverend Samuels disowns Silas near the end of the premiere he is more than willing to abandon God. But despite these two conflicting aspects of his larger-than-life personality, beneath it all is a long dormant desire for a quieter life. He is a tragic yet terrifying hero, one we know will eventually fall away for David to rise.

The two weak points of the premiere are the wartime scenes and the relationship between David and the King’s daughter. That Gath would hold hostages just past the front lines of battle, even temporarily, strain credulity. In addition, David’s impassioned speech to Gath asking for compassion and common ground would have likely ended with David brutally destroyed by the numerous tanks trained on him throughout the speech. But I take both of these points in stride because a) this is a different world, with different alliances and territories, strategies and tactics could be slightly different b) David held a white cloth stained in his brother’s blood as he delivered his speech; had Gath fired upon a white flag, there surely would have been international repercussions and c) it is David’s destiny to become King — the final scene where the butterflies land atop his head to signal his coming reign is a sure sign of that — and so I’m willing to accept a few well-timed mistakes on his enemies’ parts; many of the most successful kings and emperors of the past have had such luck in the ascension to power.

The other weak part, the love story, is weak because it happened too easily. There’s no real conflict there, they both seem to already be smitten with each other and in a relationship. I was hoping for it to take a while for their bond to grow before all that happened, but this is a minor quibble as the show could easily still get those things done over the course of the season by introducing conflict. It’s also very daring that the show took what appears to be the only romantic relationship on the show and resolved it so quickly. It’s like if the writers of The Office got Jim and Pam together in the first episode. So I’m willing to believe, for now, that they’ve thought about this and are subverting the stereotypes again for effect.

It’s been a couple days now and the ratings have been tallied and they’re atrocious. Kings had a horrible opening. Kings has already finished filming for the season and I used to think that networks wouldn’t cancel a show with complete episodes ready to air, but Firefly and Daybreak shattered that misconception, so I have to hope that the word of mouth on Kings spreads fast and the ratings improve week-over-week, because this show is a real adventure. It’s an adventure in storytelling, it’s an adventure in world-building, and perhaps most importantly it’s an adventure in broadcasting. It’s the sort of high concept high drama story that’s been relegated to cable television in recent years, and yet here it is on a Big Three network (admittedly the smallest of the Big Three). If Kings becomes a ratings success, as it deserves to be, it could be a catalyst for the networks to reinvigorate the increasingly conservative and middling television they produce.

I loved the premiere. I’m  deeply impressed with the show so far. It’s an achievement in storytelling, and I’m sure the subsequent episodes will be as good if not better.