December 25-31, 2003

naked city

Boxscore

GAEL FOR PRESIDENT: On 24, Gael fulfills America's fantasy and gets Kim Bauer to finally shut the hell up (for a few minutes, anyway).

From a rant on The O.C. to the end of Dawson's Creek, CP takes a look at the year in TV.

The O.C.

Wednesdays, 9 p.m., Fox

Please stop trying to hide, rationalize or otherwise muffle your enthusiasm for The O.C. Don't call it a guilty pleasure. Don't blush when those who don't know how it's done in Orange County try to strip you of your hipster cred when you admit you watch, or try to approach this new teen drama as a show of the so-bad-it's-good variety. I understand your pain -- how can you like a show starring young, pretty people, that deals with afterschool special issues like divorce and alcohol abuse, where every episode centers on some big fancy affair that lets the cast wear fabulous clothes and scream at each other on yachts? I know, you only watched the pilot to keep up with your pop culture literacy, and you had your sense of snark armed and ready to fire on this latest piece of TV trash. But then something happened: You got hooked. You realized that this show has some sharp writing to go with its soap opera plotlines, and even has (gasp) not so terrible acting (sometimes). And of course, it has Seth Cohen. With a genuinely funny quip or a reference to a band you never thought people at Fox would listen to, he wormed his way into your heart, damn it.

OK, I'll admit that a show like The O.C. can't be called "quality" when compared to some other, shall we say, more serious television. But it doesn't deserve to be lumped in with every other pretty piece of fluff that's thrown at the 18-to-24 demographic. The show fooled all of us -- hell, I wrote about it after its premiere and essentially dismissed it as eye candy. I was wrong. And no disrespect meant to the archetype of the hot-but-angsty-teen genre, but after half a season The O.C. has proved that it's not 90210. It's a show that understands 90210, pays tongue-in-cheek homage to it even, but then veers out in its own direction. It's fun. It's engrossing. It's occasionally unintentionally funny, often intentionally so. It's ridiculous fantasy anchored by characters struggling to break out from their genre roles. So get over yourself and admit that you unabashedly love The O.C. Bitch.&#8212Debra Auspitz

Alias

Sundays, 9 p.m., ABC

Season three started off smartly, lagged for a few episodes, and has just started to kick ass again. In between the official CIA business of tracking down The Covenant and her efforts to get those two years of her life back (a.k.a. the Julia Thorne years), Sydney is finally dealing with the void Vaughn has left in her life (even if it's in part by sleeping with witness-protected Will). This season's also seen Sydney stabbing Vaughn, Super-dad Jack's apocalypse-ready weapons stockpile, David Cronenberg guest appearances and a most excellent -- if heart-wrenching -- rivalry between Sydney and Vaughn's wife, the unidentifiably accented Lauren Reed. Sadly, it doesn't look like we'll be seeing the wily, wonderful Irina Derevko again, unless Lena Olin has a change of heart, but we hear Isabella Rossellini has been tapped to play Irina's sister. There's just no telling what Sloane's really up to and what's going on with the Rambaldi artifacts, but the real question is: What does J.J. Abrams have up his sleeve for this year's Super Bowl night episode? (A final request: more Marshall. Please.)—Lori Hill

Scrubs

Thursdays, 9:30 p.m., NBC

Sitcoms with laugh-out-loud promises -- particularly those including hipsters and coffee shops -- are downright evil. Very special hospital dramas are even worse, particularly when they include guest star Sally Field. But thank you anyway, NBC. Even though you've poisoned the minds of millions with brainless drivel, you finally struck the jackpot with Scrubs. From The Janitor constantly cracking wise and daydreams in which Turk is the hospital's Shaft to the way Dr. Perry Cox hilariously brutalizes poor J.D., this is one program that actually delivers. It's quite possibly the best written show on TV today. Oh yeah, Tara Reid's a very special touch, too.—Brian Hickey

The Practice

Sundays,10 p.m., ABC

The show was nearly kaput, so David E. Kelley got rid of Dylan McDermott, Lara Flynn Boyle and Kelli Williams. It turned out to be a great move, since Jimmy, Eugene and Ellenor are much more interesting anyway. Then, in a stroke of genius that might make even the most strident McBeal-haters embrace Kelley anew, he hired James Spader. Sure, we still get the defense-attorneys-have-to-get-murderers-off-for-the-system-to-work speech every goddamn episode, but we also get creepy-sexy Spader doing what he does best: portraying a character of questionable morals with grace and slime in equal measure. The combination is, as always, delicious.—Nancy Armstrong

24

Tuesdays, 9 p.m., Fox

Are the writers of 24 messing with us or are they just really tired? The once-impeccable series has been lurching through this season thus far, at times veering dangerously close to boring. President Palmer's girlfriend troubles? Snore. Kim works for CTU? Please. But this is 24, so it's highly possible that we are being fooled with, that all of these seemingly superfluous plotlines will end up being an integral part of some mind-boggling twist. They've socked it to us twice this season already, first with the faux virus-tainted drugs (I nearly had a heart attack when Kyle Singer's mom dumped the powder down the toilet, ostensibly releasing the virus), then with the revelation that the entire deadly virus drama was a hoax created by our own Jack Bauer, in an attempt to get back undercover with those fun-loving but insanely unpredictable Salazars. So there's still hope, and the scenes from the next new hour (airing Jan. 6) look juicy. Who's getting out of that car? Nina? Sherry? The hottie who gave Palmer a not-so-friendly handshake at the end of season two? Palmer's brother and Anne joined in an unholy alliance? Kate Warner, turned bad after Jack left her for Claudia? As long as it's not Kim, the possibilities for this season to redeem itself are endless.—D.A

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy

Tuesdays, 10 p.m., Bravo

From torching a man's toupee on the backyard grill to tossing sofas out on the lawn, the Fab Five are not polite. But their big gay hearts are in the right place: confronting culturally and hygienically misguided straight men about ear hair, moth-eaten T-shirts and the proper way to make a "man-quiche." Carson has everyone beat in the wit department -- "I haven't seen this much concentration since Mary Lou Retton in '83"; "Do you think he got this at the Lion King gift shop?" -- but each has his moments. (Well, the producers clearly need to find Jai something else to do besides get tickets to bad Broadway shows Taboo? Come on.) Let's hope the recent trend of including the straight guy's wife/girlfriend/children in the makeovers peters out: If the formula ain't broke, don't fix it. But the Five have single-handedly introduced the word "tjuze" into everyday American vocabulary (it's a surprisingly versatile word -- you can tjuze hair, sleeves, souffles), and for that, we salute them.—L.H

One Tree Hill

Tuesdays, 9 p.m., WB

WB alum Chad Michael Murray (Gilmore Girls, Dawson's) is Lucas Scott, playground hoopster and bastard son of Dan Scott (Paul Johansson), the former basketball hero of Tree Hill High and present-day legitimate father to Nathan Scott, also a baller. (Perceptive viewers will recognize Johansson as the evil John Sears from 90210 and feel very old. It's worse than Tate Donovan on The O.C. ) Lucas' mom (Moira Kelly -- yup, the shoulder-padded star of Cutting Edge) lives on the wrong side of the tracks, and still, 16 years later, is belittled by the townsfolk. While it is ridiculous that we're expected to believe that they all still live in the same town, what's not so hard to understand is the show's appeal. I realize that the marriage of hoops and teen drama might attract only a niche market (read: me), the family conflict that can't be resolved -- unless someone moved, fer chrissakes -- adds an intriguing twist to the otherwise hackneyed wrong-side-of-the-tracks romances that inevitably blossom. The crowning touch: Craig Sheffer (Hardy, from our favorite rich girl/poor boy tale, Some Kind of Wonderful) stars as Dan's loser brother, the boys' uncle and Kelly's long-suffering suitor. Ahhhh, satisfying television on the WB. Oh how we've missed you.

And a final farewell to é

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

May marked the end of an era, as one of the greatest shows ever created (uh huh, that's right) went out with a bang. After struggling through a couple of seasons that simply couldn't live up to the glory of the show's early years, Joss Whedon and co. came back with a vengeance for an ending that combined aw-remember-that nostalgia, a classic Buffy battle scene and an explosive conclusion. Sure, Buffy didn't die (again), but the life of the slayer was forever changed -- wherever she is these days. Until she decides to make a comeback, we'll just have to settle for the DVDs.

Dawson's Creek

It ended. Praise be. The plotlines had become so boring and predictable, and even the annoying supplemental characters had split ends. The final season saw Joey singing in a club, Pacey becoming a straight-outta-the-'80s stockbroker (slick-backed hair and all), Dawson directing his own mini-Scream and Jen dying of something -- possibly rage at her character's increasingly bad haircuts. It was not riveting. It was not scandalous. It was not well-coifed. But it did end, and for that we are endlessly grateful. Oh, and Joey and Pacey ended up together. Though it does seem too little too late, nice reach-around. —N.A