I hate to go all Andy Rooney, but have you ever noticed how confusing cable has gotten? (And, oh yeah, hey you kids, get off my lawn.)
Christopher Lawrence
Christopher Lawrence is the movie critic for the Las Vegas Review-Journal.
clawrence@reviewjournal.com … @life_onthecouch on Twitter. 702-380-4567
Getting a series on the air is hard enough. Trying to make one that defines an era? That’s like trying to catch lightning in a bottle. (Which, coincidentally, is how my cousin Stevie died.)
This may come as a shock to many of you, but what I know about women could fit in a Twitter post. A text message, if I’m feeling verbose.
Watching today’s Super Bowl XLIII is going to be bittersweet. Sweet because, really, who isn’t up for XIII or XIV hours of football? Bitter, though, because it represents the last wheezy, raspy, Tom Waits-with-bronchitis gasp of a dying network.
In this economy, I realize I’m lucky to have any job. But getting paid to watch TV? It’s enough to make a man feel guilty.
TV has a way of ruining fantasies, and I’m not just talking about the genius at E! who decided to let Hef’s one-time girlfriends talk — and laugh! — on “The Girls Next Door.”
After being sidelined by the writers strike last season, “24” (8 p.m. today and Monday, KVVU-TV, Channel 5) is returning to action in a brave new world.
We’re only four days into 2009 and already colors look brighter, music sounds sweeter and Tyra Banks seems less full of herself.
The holidays are traditionally one of the worst periods of the TV year, landing somewhere between the “American Idol” audition rounds and Oprah’s Vajayjay Week.
You don’t expect a Fox reality show to help the needy.
It’s no secret that this Christmas will be one of the toughest in years — you probably realized that the first time you wrapped a present in your Lehman Brothers stock certificates — but TV is here to help.
It’s starting to feel like losing a friend. A friend who shot a fellow cop in the face, tortured and killed suspects, put seized drugs back on the streets he patrolled and started a bloody war between a Mexican cartel and the Armenian mob just to help cover his tracks, but a friend nonetheless.
Whenever cable series come to town, they usually gloss over everything not included in the Vegas Variety Pack: a buffet, some showgirls, a wedding chapel Elvis impersonator and a bachelorette party complete with matching Ed Hardy T-shirts and lower-back tattoos.
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