(Display Name not set)August 2006 Archives

The only thing America loves more than a winner is an underdog. Andre Agassi has been the former AND the latter... twice.

Monday night, I had to stay up past midnight to watch him win a 4-set match in the opening round of the U.S Open tennis tournament. Years ago, I sat on a hill and watched him--at the time an ex-pro--play a Tier 3 qualifying match at McCambridge Rec Center in Burbank. This would be like Michael Jordan showing up at the local YMCA looking for a game. But Andre was there because the rules of tennis insist that a player win his way back to the pro tour. Michael just showed up back in Chicago. Andre had to earn it.

He's played a tournament career spanning two hairstyles and then no hair. He's been an underdog, then champion, then underdog, then champion... and again he's now an underdog. Everyone (at least in America) wants him to win. Most of us think he'll lose anytime.

I wonder what it is that causes us to root for someone who's made more money than us, is more secure than we are, and who's legacy will last longer than most of ours. Perhaps it goes back to the Garden. Perhaps it goes back to the Incarnation. Most everyone I know--including the networks, the United States Tennis Associatuon, and my friends who've flown to New York--just want him to go forward a little while longer.

Forget "Shame on Tom." How about "shame on us."

In reading several articles and blog pieces--including Idol Chatter's reliable Kris Rasumussen's--I think almost everyone has missed the real point. Tom's exit from Paramount wasn't due as much to his behavior or their greed as much as it was due to our behavior and our greed.

Our behavior was to watch a young actor come out of his choreographed shell and reveal more of his actual character and personality--and then decide not to go to his movies as much. It's not as if he was some sort balanced character leader or upstanding citizen before he jumped up on Oprah's couch or shared his pseudoreligious beliefs; we just didn't know any better. As he got more authentic, we stayed away from his recent releases.

The result? The business entity charged with making a profit (Paramount Studios) made an assessment based on data that he wasn't the market force he used to be. Correct? Yes. But it didn't have to be.

What if throngs of citizens had shown up in greater droves, as if to say, "We truly value authenticity off screen while loving great entertainment on screen." The problem, of course, is that many of us can't separate the two, and we want too much to believe in (and vicariously connect with) the on-screen personas of celebrities, who lose value for us when they stray from what we want to conceive them as.

And this isn't new. Humphrey Bogart tried to be the tragic hero in "The Caine Mutiny." John Wayne got old in "Rooster Cogburn." Robert Redford got vulnerable (finally) in "Indecent Proposal" and later "The Clearing." Harrison Ford moved from the trilogies ("Star Wars" and "Indiana Jones") to artsy stuff like "Mosquito Coast" and later tried to play a Russian in "K-19: The Widowmaker." Cruise is the latest in a line of famous male actors who've tried to climb out of the box that made them famous--whether on-screen or off. It's not that it's bad, or wrong. It's just that we (the public) don't tend to respond well to it and thus the studios don't want to pay them for it.

It's just business, really. But deeper than that, it's spiritual: We say we long for authenticity and honesty, but we don't like it when we see it.

And that's when every actor realizes he or she is really just another commodity.

The "Law" side of "Law & Order" meets "CSI" and "Boston Legal" in Jerry Bruckheimer's new TV series "Justice," debuting tonight on FOX. While Bruckheimer's countless action movies have became more intelligent over time, this show seems to be more of a reversion to the days of "Armageddon" and "Con Air" than a mimic of his recent TV successes.

Interesting and slick, fast and simple, the more accurate title would have been "Spin" or "Trial by Camera," since that's what it's really about. The show doesn't dive deep enough to land the satisfying graces and societal healings that come when true justice is achieved. Or served. So if you're looking for inspiration for--and connection to--that spiritual part of each of us that longs for justice in the world, keep surfing. If you're looking for some entertainment before dozing, though, "Justice" may not be all bad.

The show's premise rests on the efforts of "Trott, Nicholson, Tuller & Graves" (TNT&G), a legal firm that serves the celebrities and wealthy elite of Southern California. In the pilot episode, the firm defends a rich guy accused of killing his wife. "Defense" takes on the kind of sophistication and meticulous detail that's meant to (as the show's website says) do for lawyers what "CSI" and "First Watch" have done for their fields. At least in the pilot, it was a surface scan at best.

The ensemble cast is not exactly "Crane, Poole and Schmidt" of "Boston Legal"--in either size or sizzle--but who knows, maybe more characters will be added soon. Victor Garber's Ron Trott is a media-saavy white version of Johnnie Cochrane; Kerr Smith is young Tom Nicholson, the lead dog in court; Eamonn Walker's Luther Graves is an African-American ex-prosecutor who is more wisdom than winsome; Rebecca Mader's Alden Tuller is sort of on the border between "token woman" and "forensic expert."

The dialogue here isn't exactly "The Paper Chase," or even "The Paper," what with such trifles as:

• "The D.A. is playing hardball."
• "This is trial by TV."
• "The D.A. doesn't want to try him on the facts; they want to lynch him in the media."
• "If you miss anything, it costs our client everything."

As with any TV show, its success will lie with our connection to the characters, interest in the plots, and intrigue from the premise. Unfortunately, after all of the legal representation issues, media comment, state-of-the-art forensic interpretation, jury consultants, mock juries, and legal experts, we're left with a show that is more about the interaction between clients, law firms, and the media rather than a deep look into the real desires in each of our hearts for authentic justice.

The show does feature a nice little ending touch: a flashback to the actual crime scene. For anyone who's ever really, really wanted to know what happened with O.J. and Nicole or any other high profile case, these last few moments are for you. Of course, you've gotta spend an hour for the final minute's pay-off. Perhaps future episodes will be more worth it.

MTV celebrated its 25th anniversary last week, but I couldn't figure out what they were celebrating. I find myself singing the Dire Straits’ classic lyric, “I want my MTV,” because my MTV--or, at least, good MTV--hasn’t been seen in a long, long time.

Mark Knopfler called the early MTV stars “yo-yo’s,” said “they aint workin’” and that they were earning “money for nothin.’” What he thought was bad then has become downright disgusting since. “My” MTV was mostly mainstream music with hints of alternative and headbanging stuff, played between the greetings of original Veejays Martha Quinn, Mark Hunter, Nina Blackwood, downtown Julie Brown, and the late J.J. Jackson.

At that time, MTV was truly an on-screen version of radio. Its jingles were unique, the sign-ons were original (who can’t remember the Apollo spacecraft, among other frequent images?) and the music at least felt like music. Some videos were hard to understand, like confusing dreams. Others made the song more real. But today, MTV is some kind of variety of gangsta wrap, teen reality shows, and the closest you can come to teen porn on TV without breaking FCC rules. So for me the 25th anniversary was more of a requiem tribute than a celebration.

The only thing I like about the current trend is the emerging popularity of Christian bands (especially those who aren't called "Christian" bands) on Christian stations, local individual stations, and even MTV's sister-network, VH-1. "The Zone" is one example, now playing faith-based videos in over 200 local television markets. Medium-market cities are being exposed to what the Bible Belt has had for a long time: lots of faith-based entertainment on several stations. Perhaps someday the big cities will have the same. Strong young balladeers and aspiring musicians with faith-driven lyrics are finding a home outside of MTV's bias--and I'm glad for it.

I'm not provoked to say "good riddance, MTV," but I'll certainly say "R.I.P." to a fading cultural phenomenon, while clicking past it for more positive--and spiritual-- music and videos.

There no longer is a Sabbath Day in Football Television Nation USA.

Am I the only one who remembers a time when the colleges played on Saturday, the NFL played on Sunday afternoon, Monday Night Football was a special treat, and all-day football happened once a year on New Year's Day? Everything is different now, so much so that if an outside observer had to ask whether this was a "Christian" nation or "religious" nation or a "spiritual" or a "sports-watching" nation, there could be only one conclusion, at least based on ratings and dollars paid for the rights to broadcast football. Consider:

• College Football starts early and goes late on Saturdays, and you can watch a triple-header every weekend, quadruple if Hawaii plays at home;
• There are NCAA games on just about every other night of the week, and when Central Florida plays Marshall on October 4, every night of the week will have been covered;
• College games are on ABC, NBC, CBS, BET, and various independent stations on Saturdays; the weeknight games are on either ESPN, ESPN2, ESPNU, ESPN360, and ESPN Classic;
• In the pros, Monday Night Football has moved from ABC to ESPN;
• Sunday Night Football has moved from ESPN to NBC;
• Little Richard and Cheap Trick have been brought in to join Hank Williams, Jr., for the lead-in theme song on ABC;
• ESPN will be showing NCAA games on Sunday nights to compete with NBC;
• One commentator--Cris Collinsworth--can now be seen on three different networks, which is two more than most.

The huge audience that watches the NFL on TV is apparently growing even larger. Just “follow the money” for verification. To broadcast the Monday Night Football games, ESPN pays $1.1 billion dollars. Imagine Dr. Evil saying that, but this isn’t fiction. By adding in HBO, NBC, and other rights packages, the NFL will take in about $3.75 billion dollars just from those who show games (or parts of games) on TV.

More and more of our culture plans not only its TV watching but its social calendar itself around NFL games. Restaurants, bars, churches, youth groups, business travelers, community groups, and families now review the NFL schedule before setting dates for key events in the Fall. Polls suggest that only about 18% of Americans make carrying out their faith the highest priority in their lives. Someday, someone might ask questions about the destiny of a culture that puts watching sports ahead of spiritual growth in its priorities.

A lot has been made of Mel Gibson's recent indiscretions and its bearing on the national cultural character assessment. Whether it is media hype, national fascination, authentic character examination, or passing conversation, it has become the job of many to...