Always Sunny Season Seven: A Retrospective

“It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” just finished its seventh season, and the results have been mixed. Never before has it felt as though the show careened so wildly between brilliance and boredom, instead offering a steady diet of laughs throughout its three months of airtime. But what we have this season is a mix of episodes that would rank among the show’s best, and an almost equal amount that would be considered the show’s worst.

The season started out strong with “Frank’s Pretty Woman,” less a parody of the Julia Roberts romantic comedy than a total annihilation of it. Any episode that throws in the phrase “tighter than dick skin” and ends with a hooker lying dead outside of Charlie’s apartment surely counts as a series high, especially for a season premiere. After last season went out spectacularly with the end of Dee’s pregnancy storyline and “A Very Sunny Christmas,” this episode proved that the show was suffering no creative setbacks at the start of the new year.

Next up were “The Gang Goes to the Jersey Shore” and “Frank Reynolds’ Little Beauties,” two solid episodes that were elevated by a handful of great lines and typically strong performances. It also marked the return of side characters like Artemis and the Waitress, checking in on where they are at the start of the new year (for Artemis, much the same, and for the Waitress, doing ecstasy on the Jersey Shore, a new all-time low). For a show that only gets a few scenes for auxiliary players per season, these two episodes did a good job of using the two actresses and reminding the audience how deep the bench goes for this show.

“Sweet Dee Gets Audited” should have made more of an impact, considering it ends with the characters saying this is the “darkest thing we’ve ever done.” That thing is staging a fake funeral for the baby Dee gave up for adoption at the tail end of last season. It’s always amusing to see Dee’s delusions of cleverness crushed by reality, but the background to this whole episode – an attempt at democracy manipulated by Frank and Dennis to get the bar decorated to their liking – is pretty flat and uninspiring. In fact, the Dee plot would have probably worked a bit better as a B-story, because the baby’s funeral really doesn’t provide that strong of a conclusion for the episode. And while it may be dark, the show is careful to introduce another character (the IRS agent auditing Dee) to react with suitable human disgust and horror when the whole thing goes wrong and the “baby’s” casket is opened to reveal the rotten corpse of a dog from the alley next to the bar. Shame that an image like that doesn’t leave more of an impact.

But following that strong opening four, “Frank’s Brother” showed that there is a limit on what the show can do. I personally enjoyed “The Gang Cracks the Liberty Bell” and “The World Series Defense” for their chance to hear the storytelling ability of the characters. Each paper-thin character or anachronistic phrase made perfect sense coming from Charlie, Dennis, Mac, and Dee. But Frank’s story is meant to be true, so when things don’t add up, it feels like a cheat – the writers aren’t playing fair. Sure, it’s funny to imagine that the mid-60’s Danny DeVito “looks like a 12-year-old,” and seeing that the name “Shadynasty” spelled out makes up “Shady Nasty,” but a few jokes like that can’t make up for a plot that ultimately goes nowhere and has nothing to do with Frank’s brother at all.

“The Storm of the Century” was purely mediocre. As an episode it barely hangs together, working much better as a series of funny scenes and concepts. The hurricane framework, especially considering Hurricane Irene did indeed bypass the Northeast with little incident, lends almost no urgency. And benching Mac for the lion’s share of the episode, even if it is balanced by the punchline of seeing him sitting safely without the Gang, eating ice cream and watching television from the bar, leads to a mismatched ensemble. Dee’s shrill fear of the storm returns her to the less dynamic shrewish archetype she hasn’t played since the first season. Again, this is subverted by the ending of the episode, but that doesn’t make her come across as any funnier. Charlie and Dennis have some spectacular material when they pursue a large-breasted TV anchor and later a few young attractive women shopping in a Home Depot-like home improvement store, but it works better as six or seven isolated minutes rather than as the A-story in an otherwise underwhelming 22 minutes. However, I will admit that this sends Dennis on a fantastic arc this season – and I believe his unhinging all starts here, when he is rejected by the news anchor and the young girls shopping for disaster supplies. His barely contained disgust for himself and the three women is as unsettling as it is funny.

“CharDee MacDennis: The Game of Games” was pure brilliance from nearly start to finish. It’s one of dozens of bottle episodes “Sunny” has done over the years, restricting the action to the bar and stripping away all characters not in the Gang. This season has proven that this tried-and-true formula is far from tired. In fact, it’s still where the most innovation can be done. This episode probably packed in the most jokes, the most character beats, the most callbacks out of any other episode this season (aside from the two-part finale, which I’ll get to in a moment), and it did so without leaving the confines of a single room. When you get down to it, “Sunny” doesn’t do alternative structure as well as many other comedies, but it does laugh-out-loud character comedy better than almost all of them.

Next up was “The Anti-Social Network,” another largely inconsequential episode held up by Dennis’ madness. Aghast at the thought that a random gin bar patron “shushed” him, Dennis drags Charlie along on an elaborate plot for revenge. Mac and Dee split off, looking for the “shusher” via Facebook in what turns into a “Catfish” parody. “Sunny’s” pop culture parodies have never been one of its stronger elements, so it’s no surprise that Dennis’ fury is far more fruitful than Mac and Dee’s unraveling of a vast online conspiracy. As he and Charlie enlist the help of the gin bar owners, the police, and a street cartoonist to help them track down the “shusher,” they become more and more wrapped up in their righteous fury. Charlie becomes fixated on the “shusher’s” “almond shaped eyes,” which can be added along with “people’s knees” to the list of physical attributes that drive him crazy. Dennis, on the other hand, reacts with an eerie determination. He will not stand to be insulted. Again, this just serves to build the intensity behind Dennis’ murderous edge.

The following episode, “The Gang Gets Trapped” might just have won the crown for my all-time least favorite “Sunny” episode. Once again, I appreciated their attempts to mess with typical structure, but it doesn’t quite work. Rather than have a long buildup to a bad idea, with all five characters at varying levels of interest and commitment, the episode cuts straight to the fallout. The opening finds Dee and Dennis trapped in a woman’s closet as she packs for a trip, after sneaking inside to steal an artifact her family won in an auction. It’s clearly intentional but no less disappointing that the characters pay lip service to Dennis’ passionate speech in favor of breaking in, or Mac and Charlie’s piqued interest due to a recent obsession with Indiana Jones. The whole thing feels like it takes place in the interim between the hilarious setup and the impact punchline. And while it might be a fun exercise for the writers to imagine what the characters get up to in between their outsized antics, it results in a rather unfulfilling half-hour.

Perhaps the most disappointing was “How Mac Got Fat.” With a title like that, you could expect that the show would go wild. But the episode is actually repurposed footage from an aborted attempt at a script from season six. On first pass, the episode seems very funny, taking a tour of Mac’s fractured psyche, from his staunch Catholicism to his oddly homoerotic fascination with fitness and muscles, to his delusional self-image, to his impatience – all things that are ripe for laughs. But on second watch, the structure actually seems rather sloppy, relying on Mac’s confession as an expositional monologue forcing the bits and pieces from the old footage into the framework of this new story idea. Only the smaller things on the sidelines – the candy stuffed in Mac’s pockets as he reveals his newly fattened physique or Charlie’s turpentine-fueled dance in the back office as Dennis watches with a glassy, drugged out stare - land. Perhaps the show only needs to make the audience laugh, but with so few episodes per season, I’d prefer they focus on making episodes I can laugh at time and time again, not just once.

Things looked up the following week with “Thunder Gun Express,” a fun adventure around Philly featuring actual location shooting as the Gang attempt to make it to the action movie of the year. What worked well about this half-hour was the pairings and isolation of the different characters. Mac making fun of Dennis’ slow, methodical, needlessly creepy way of picking up girls spurs Dennis on to listen to the collection of tapes (tapes!) he’s made of his various romantic encounters, actually having a few moments of self-reflection. Of course all that’s undone in a moment when a good looking woman presents herself and Dennis reverts to his tried-and-true ways. But even that’s upstaged by the adventures of Mac, Dee, and Charlie after they leave Dennis stranded in traffic in order to get to the theater more quickly. For once, the writers take Fat Mac into consideration and leave him stranded on the sidewalk after Charlie and Dee slip through a narrow grate into the sewer. Frustrated and preoccupied with the thoughts of action heroes, Mac spies a nearby motorcycle and tries to ride off on it. The resulting sight gag is worth the price of admission. Meanwhile, in the sewer, Dee becomes trapped when her shoe gets caught in the ground. Best line? When Dee asks Charlie if she can just take his shoes until they get back up to dry land, he stubbornly refuses. “You’ll stretch them out!” he insists. “You’ll stretch them out.”

After careening so unpredictably throughout the season, the once promising idea of the Gang’s high school reunion approached as I faced it with trepidation. Sure, it looked like there would be plenty to look forward to, but when finding out about Frank’s past or the whole concept of Fat Mac fizzled out, it looked like high concepts were the kiss of death for “Sunny” episodes that made me laugh. Fortunately, the full hour made sure there was plenty of time to deliver on such a loaded premise. Callbacks bring back plenty of recurring characters like Rickety Cricket, plagued with wicked cases of ringworm and kleptomania, Fatty Magoo, looking prettier than ever, and the Waitress, pathetically wandering around in the background, drunk and disappointed.

Hitherto unseen aspects of the characters were finally revealed. Dee is forced to don her torturous back brace, looking like something out of the early twentieth century, literally prohibiting her from any effortless movement, from turning her head to shrugging her shoulders. Finally, we learn Mac’s real name – a little bit of a letdown after so many years, but hey – and it turns out to be Ronald MacDonald. Luckily, the show knows not to stop there and also reveals that Mac was a rotten little snitch nicknamed “Ronnie the Rat.” Charlie devolves back into the unconfident, sniveling “Dirt Grub,” humiliating himself at every turn in order to somehow appeal to his more popular peers.

All that is upstaged by the climax of Dennis’ mania, which comes to a head after encountering the jocks who never respected him and the former friend he believes once slept with his prom date. When he fails to ingratiate himself or get revenge on them, his resulting fury is terrifyingly hilarious. Entering into a psychotic breakdown, he actually reveals what was always implied – a trunk full of creepy sado-masochistic gear that somehow includes both a camcorder and zipties. The rest of the Gang (as put off as the audience, though unable to find it as funny as we can) quickly talk him out of using “his tools” against his rivals.

Nothing, however, can outdo the final few minutes for pure humor. Throughout the hour, the Gang speaks reverently of their “Plan B,” only to be deployed under the direst of circumstances. When those circumstances are more than met, they are forced to go through with it – even though, as Dennis exclaims, it’s only a dance routine. But from top to bottom their manic, passionaite performance is hysterically funny - and that's before their delusions crash down around them, and everyone else at the reunion heads off to what sounds like a wicked afterparty. Once again, the Gang is left alone to go back to the bar. Back to the status quo.

Two more seasons have already been confirmed by creators and stars McElhanney, Day, and Howerton. Hopefully they can avoid some of the pitfalls they stumbled into this year. But despite this season’s weaker offerings, at no point has it felt as though the characters were weak or their chemistry diminished, but rather that what once seemed like endless possibilities for episodes wasn’t quite so endless after all.

It’s Broke; Please Fix It

Why I can’t stand the success of “2 Broke Girls.”

Television naturally demands a hearty suspension of disbelief, no form of which more so than the three-camera sitcom. It feels a bit stale, with hangovers from theater and radio in the tone, style, and performances. However, that does not mean three-camera shows can’t be relatable. Think of “Cheers.” Think of “Seinfeld.” The form itself is no more inherently flawed than any other. So when critical complaints are heaped on CBS’ new fall sitcom “2 Broke Girls,” my eye doesn’t go to its studio audience, its limited number of locations – some of the best shows in television history have made those elements work to their advantage. And the template for shows about young professionals working in New York City, “Friends,” was also a three-camera show. But “2 Broke Girls” has dozens of other problems, all of which stem from character, writing, and structure.

The devil’s in the details, as they say. “2 Broke Girls” continues to only make it halfway to accurate. There is a fundamental misunderstanding what it’s about to live as a young person in New York City, especially one with very little money. Michael Patrick King, the showrunner, served many, many years on “Sex and the City,” and he was effective there, providing an escapist fantasy for non-city dwellers while being careful to keep the geography accurate for sharp-eyed natives. However, there he was dealing with characters living like the upper class, even if they never identified themselves as such. Here, the characters pay constant lip service to their poverty, but King does not know what stories, attitudes, and behaviors organically rise from this situation. Being young and broke in New York has plenty of inherent drama. Think – the same stories from shows like “Friends” or “How I Met Your Mother,” stories of love, work, and friendship, still apply, but with the added stakes of money and circumstance. Impressing that new wacky boss becomes a necessity if you can’t quit your job after 22 minutes. An annoying landlord on a quest for the rent becomes the only thing standing between you and life on the street. The situations are ripe for comedy, particularly, in my opinion, farce. The very best farce – with humor that can be as broad as the side of a barn – comes from urgency. Necessity. Pacing. The more a character needs something, and the more that necessity contradicts the needs of other characters, the funnier the farce becomes. “NewsRadio,” one of the better and more overlooked sitcoms from the 90’s comedy boom, played as a wonderful farce in its three best seasons (the ones right in the middle of its five-year run). How did it do so? By establishing each member of its eight-person ensemble as a distinct personality, always looking for something specific. When each of these needs came in conflict with one another, the jokes flew faster and so did the laughs. So far “2 Broke Girls” has set the stage for farce but failed to deliver in pretty much every way.

The two leads, Kat Dennings as streetwise Max and Beth Behrs as sheltered Caroline, are fine, and their friendship (and business partnership) could be enough to hang a show on. In fact, “Laverne and Shirley” did just that for plenty of years. But just like that lowest-common-denominator show, “2 Broke Girls” is soft around the edges, relying on easy gags about the characters being female, having sex drives, and any number of unappealing sounds, smells, or sights in downtown Brooklyn.

The supporting characters are all on the miss side of hit-and-miss. Each attempt at developing a character who is not a young white female has been a wild miscalculation. Garrett Morris proves what a funny person can do with paper thin material, but his character still only gets about ten seconds of stereotypical jokes about being old, black, and cool per episode. Though he’s been set up as a surrogate father for Max, he’s yet to display anything more than polite concern for her well-being, let alone any advice or comfort. The other supporting characters – all of whom are male, actually – are also given next to nothing to work with. Michael Moy is forced to adopt a fake Korean accent and an embarrassingly nerdish demeanor, dropping jokes about his Tiger Mother and changing his name to “Bryce” (get it? It sounds like “rice,” a food Koreans are partial to) in order to become more American. Worst of all is Oleg, the lecherous line cook. With only a few seconds, he manages to fit in an hour of discomfort, with his obnoxious and unreturned sexual advances. Paired with a vaguely Eastern European accent – Ukrainian, according to the exposition – Oleg challenges the viewer to keep watching with his noxiously perverted one-liners.

Poverty is not inherently funny. But wealth is not inherently funny either. Economic realities are not, in general, inherently funny. What’s funny is watching loveable characters navigate those realities in ways that stem from real emotions, but can get outsized, crazy, and weird because of their place in a fictional universe. But no matter how wacky their antics get, their motivations and impulses have to be logical and relatable. “2 Broke Girls” is rarely logical. In fact, the jokes fall apart so quickly simply because of the lack of logic. In the first episode, Caroline and Max sneak uptown and steal Caroline’s horse. They bring it back to Brooklyn and put it in their backyard. The giant horse in the tiny Brooklyn patio is a decent sight gag. But each successive episode has kept the horse there! This is so stupid it boggles the mind. The title of the show references how poor the leads are. Are the writers unaware of how expensive it is to keep at horse fed and taken care of? Are they unaware of how much time that takes? Are they unaware of how much exercise a horse needs per day? I know I was. But then I spent three minutes researching on the internet. The information is there, and it readily contradicts any chance that “2 Broke Girls” is taking place on planet Earth. There are plenty of little things, too – the anachronistically graffiti’ed subway cars from the mid-1980’s, the girls wasting money on five-dollar Starbucks lattes when they work at a coffee slinging diner, the constant references to hipsters when no one seems sure of what a hipster is – it’s all frustrating. And it all drags the viewer out of the show and, at least for the astute TV-watcher, into a more critical mindset. Similar problems surely dogged other shows over the years. But small inconsistencies can be overlooked when balanced by great jokes.

And here’s the biggest problem of all – “2 Broke Girls” isn’t funny. Dennings and Behrs both seem aware of what a joke is, and how to tell one. But neither one has been handed a genuinely well-crafted one so far. Most of the humor relies on sarcastic puns, repeating what another characters has just said, the word “hipster,” or some kind of tripping, slipping, squirting, or splashing. There’s plenty of sexual content, but it’s all crude and mean-spirited. Unlike the best blue comedies, like “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” there’s again, no strong sense of character behind it. Instead, every character is either shamed for having a sex drive or shamed for not having more of one. The girls don tight shirts and short skirts in what seems like a desperate attempt to retain male viewers. The girls put down every male in sight in hopes of appealing to female ones. But what appeals to viewers of all types is humor that arises from universal experiences, understandable reactions, or a complete and utter subversion of them. You cannot prompt the audience to worry about whether or not Max and Caroline will get a new electric mixer when the denouement of the episode finds them doing a gross, sexually charged take on Lucille Ball’s famous chocolate-wrapping routine. The comparisons do not favor “2 Broke Girls.”

“I Love Lucy” was probably the last and best example of a show that could combine farcical comedy with realistic family stakes. Perhaps it was lent some level of empathy because the audience knew Ball was married to her onscreen husband Desi Arnaz. Perhaps gender politics of the time made Lucy’s increasingly ridiculous schemes feel more realistic. But my prevailing theory is that when “I Love Lucy” aired, audiences found it the funniest show on television. But with so much fantastic comedy on TV right now, hopefully audiences will come to their senses and realize there is more to choose from than “2 Broke Girls.”

Pliot Capsule Reviews: WHITNEY

Whitney:

“Whitney” delivers the storm of awful pretty much anyone who’s been exposed to the barrage of advertising would expect. Hackneyed observations about the staid nature of marriage lifted almost unchanged from star/showrunner Whitney Cummings’ stand-up special pervade throughout. The only thing worse than listening to her loudly bray her own own nonsense is watching the cast of bit-part staples (like “30 Rock’s” Maulik Pancholy) and other stand-ups (like the bland Chris D’Elia) say them instead. Nothing about this is innately funny – even the tried-and-true impact editing used by pretty much every sitcom of the last fifty years, where a character goes from checking on a friend to see if they’re ill straight to a wailing ambulance, gets nary a chuckle.

While the first act largely introduces the characters and their relationships, this never comes across as an ensemble show. Unlike, say, “Cougartown,” which has made its bread with a loveable group of eccentrics living In their own, self-made universe, “Whitney” is very clearly about the titular character and her alone. Her snide, loud, observations are peppered throughout as truth, and even when she is embarrassed, with another sarcastic remark she lets it slide right off of her. Cummings is willing to put her character in uncomfortable situations, but she has some hangups about her own vanity that always gives the show’s Whitney Cummings the last laugh. What made a sitcom like “Seinfeld” great is that the four leads constantly overestimated their own intellect, putting themselves in the position to be laughed at. Granted, this wasn’t all implicit in the pilot, but at least the jokes were funny.

But the biggest problem with “Whitney” hands down is the acting. Every performance, from Cummings herself to “Malcolm in the Middle” vet Jane Kaczmarek (who must be jealous of her old sitcom husband Bryan Cranston, who’s experiencing an amazing renaissance) needs to work at about half the volume and twice the speed. There are about twelve jokes too few in the script, and the whole enterprise is straining mightily by the end. There is never a sense that these two characters are in any sort of relationship, and the attempt at emotional earnestness falls totally flat.

Anyone living in a major metropolitan area knows just how terrible “Whitney” would be. Turns out, it doesn’t disappoint – unless you’re a fan of good TV.

Returning Shows Sept. 13-20th

America’s Next Top Model:

Tyra Banks is trying as hard as she can to prove her own mental instability. She is doing a wonderful job. This season of “ANTM” promises more washed up, tired looking models half-heartedly pretending to nearly go into epileptic shock every time they are graced with Banks’ visage.

Somehow, most of the “All-Star” cast seems to be familiar with one another, something that suggests perhaps the model graduates of ANTM might hit a glass ceiling of sorts. In fact, some of these awkwardly desperate women (for they’re all at least in their mid-to late twenties), seem to have suffered the slings and arrows of plastic surgery and hair extensions. The season could still be fun in a voyeuristic way, but frankly the proceedings seem kind of sad, and the level of intimacy one must have with the prior seasons (or, excuse me, “cycles”) in order to remember the moments frequently called back and referenced is disappointingly high.

Archer:

Alas, there will only be two more episodes of powerhouse comedy “Archer” before its usual premiere date in late January. Fortunately, this limited run is just as vivacious and hilarious as usual. “Heart of Archness – Part 1” is a uniformly excellent half-hour of setup, and here’s to hoping the next two episodes will bring the payoff in a great an unexpected way.

The episode opens with a quick rundown of where things have gone since the second season finale. Sterling Archer, still in mourning over his trashy European fiancée, has run away from Isis and has been on the lam in the deep Pacific for months. Malory, his overbearing mother, is sparing no expense in the quest to find him. The other Isis agents, Lana among them, have little interest in reintroducing Archer to their ranks. But, considering the title of the show, Malory is forced to outsource the job to Patrick Warburton’s Rip, a 1930’s style flying ace. Rip quickly finds Archer, but through typical Archer buffoonery, Sterling manages to both constantly shoot his would-be-savior in the foot and still having time to do the same to a shark’s face. Most of the effort of this episode is spent on establishing the Rip/Archer dynamic, which one can only hope is indicative of Rip’s significance in Season 3.

The plot really kicks up once Archer and Rip are kidnapped by pirates (pirates counting David Cross among them). Archer gets the chance to have one of his now-trademarked monologue/shooting sprees. It’s funny and sharp throughout, and if it’s odd to have an “Archer” storyline end without a resolution. But the spy-movie plot, the new locations, and the characters that seamlessly integrate with established favorites all show that “Archer” is well on its way to a fantastic third season.

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia:

“Always Sunny” has never been the type of show to introduce serialization or maintain long-running arcs. But this season marks a new step forward in fearlessness and, at least in this episode, callback after callback. From the first scenes introducing “Big Fat Mac,” it’s clear the show is going farther than ever.

This season picks up a decent while after Dee’s pregnancy was resolved at the end of last season, throwing down the gauntlet immediately with Frank’s new girlfriend – the hysterically inarticulate prostitute Roxy. When Frank decides he wishes to marry Roxy, the gang spring into action. What’s great is the psychological consistency behind their concerns.

Dee, who still feels her life has yet to begin, decides to mentor Roxy in a “Pretty Woman” style. But through visiting expensive stores and taking high profile clients, Dee realizes Roxy’s hard-lined life on the streets is better than her comparatively conservative one.

Meanwhile, Charlie decides Frank deserves a girl who wants him for him, not for his money. Using his own twisted logic, he determines the best way to find such a girl is for Charlie to take out a woman while posing as a millionaire. Halfway through the date, he plans to feign illness and make way for Frank, who will be pretending to be a humble limo driver, to replace him on the remainder of the date. While this setup alone guarantees laughs, the payoff to this scene is possibly the first “Sunny” plot to actually require a spoiler alert. Structured impeccably, this whole setpiece is designed to get viewers back in the mood for disgusting, hysterical, anti-humor.

The weakest story this week is actually the “Big Mac” intro. While Rob McElhanney has shown remarkable commitment to getting as truly disgusting as possible, pairing Mac’s sloppy, newly gluttonous persona with Dennis’ near anorexia feels a little easy. Better is Dennis’ revelation that the only thing that’s been keeping him off of crack is his obsession with preserving his youth. Glenn Howerton does actually look pretty good, especially compared with McElhanney, which lends the delusional Dennis a tiny bit of credibility – at least until a deadpan doctor shatters his illusions of good health. The tag to the story, featuring Tommy Bahama shirts, is definitely its best aspect, and leads well into the conclusion.

The final scenes reunite the cast for a typical sociopathic blowout. It may not be shocking for “Sunny” aficionados, but it certainly shows that despite the addition of a baby to the series last year, this ensemble has not lost its edge in any way.

Project Runway:

Not too much to say about another entry in the middle of this so far disappointing season. Josh M. has been once again rewarded for bad behavior, the judges are fragmenting before the camera’s eye, and guest judge Malin Ackerman looked absolutely terrible. The challenge itself could have been more fun, but contradicted itself at every angle. At first, it seemed to be a quest for the designer to listen to what the husbands/boyfriends said about their ladies and try and make a good guess as to what the women’s styles were actually like. Then, with the addition of the women as models, it became another “dress a REAL WOMAN challenge.” Then, with the slight domestic disputes, it became about reconciling between the two parties and finding a look that they both approved of. Then, on the runway it simply became about which woman looked the most like a typical model. This resulted in a top three made up entirely of straight sized clients, a bottom three that was made up of entirely happy clients, and, at the very least, a loser who had been turning out bad looks almost from Day 1. It’s hard to believe Bryce even made it this far.

Capsule Pilot Reviews: TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14TH

New Girl:

Zooey Deschanel comes to television to join her sister Emily on FOX’s new comedy “New Girl.” The sitcom follows Deschanel’s character Jess as she suffers an embarrassing breakup and the resulting scramble for new housing. The whole situation lands her (reasonably realistically, considering) in a LA apartment with three guys, played by Jake Johnson, Damon Wayans Jr., and Max Greenfield. Her best friend is played by the refreshingly normal and reasonable Hannah Simone.

A nice change of pace is Jess’ assortment of strange quirks. Mind, it’s not the quirks themselves that break the mold, but rather the surrounding characters, who treat her and her oddities as some sort of mild mental illness. Frankly, they’re not far off. Most frank about his discomfort is Damon Wayans Jr. So great on “Happy Endings,” Wayans will have to leave in the next episode due to that show’s renewal. But since the relationship between the four friends has yet to totally gel, it’s possible they may be able to find someone with even more ensemble chemistry.

Jess is so weighed down with Deschanel’s various affectations that it’s hard to get a feel for whether or not she’ll be strong enough at the center, but Johnson, playing the most obviously human of the three male roommates, is quite good. He strikes an interesting and vaguely familiar note, like “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’s” Charlie Day on Xanax. Probably the best laugh-out-loud moment in the pilot comes when Jess asks him if he’ll ax murder her and, with perfect comic timing, he says “definitely.” Little things like that will make or break “New Girl.”

Free Agents:

Hank Azaria headlines this not-quite-comedy doing a more adult version of the “friends with benefits” theme that’s permeated the summer. In it, Azaria plays Alex, a man still suffering emotional damage from his recent divorce. His foil is the equally unstable Kathryn Hahn playing Helen, a woman who still has not managed to grieve properly for her dead fiancé.

There are funny moments throughout, usually courteous of Anthony Stewart Head, who adopts a loose, laconic acting style (mastering the art of delivering lines while something else seems to be on his mind) betraying his experience playing the exact same character on the original British version of the series. Unfortunately, most of the other supporting characters give performances pitched far too broad. Joe Lo Truligo and Natasha Leggero have been better – and funny – elsewhere, so it can be hoped that once their characters find a place within the office universe, they’ll be toned down. The same cannot be said for the outright dreadful Mo Mandel. His obnoxious, irritating performance completely misses the mark. Even a chronic overactor such as Azaria seems embarrassed to be sharing a scene with such a walking misstep. If I could ask one thing of this show, it would be to fire Mandel immediately.

My second request would be that the writers not be afraid to treat the unhappiness of their leads with honesty. Both Azaria and Hahn are playing characters hitting rock bottom, but the overall tone of the show seems desperate to distract from that. What would boost this show immensely is to tap into that deep, dark core and be unafraid to show the neuroses that inform the (thankfully few) “wacky” antics of its leads. For example, a scene where Azaria’s character cannot help but start crying at the sound of a song, the moment would have been better had the script truly established the real pain behind the emotion in a previous scene instead of going for a quick punchline. Holding off on the humor and providing more outright tragedy would make the show more unique and make it seem more meaningful.

Ultimately, “Free Agents” would probably be better served by a 10PM timeslot on Showtime, where it could be as dark as it pleased. But, since all it has is NBC and abandonment on Tuesday in a blind attempt at a new comedy night, what can be hoped is that the writers and directors tone down the mugging, broad performances from the supporting cast and embrace the essential darkness lurking beneath its confectionary premise.

Up All Night:

My biggest worry going into “Up All Night” was that Will Arnett’s Chris and Christina Applegate’s Reagan would seem like hapless idiots incapable of doing even the simplest of childrearing tasks. Fortunately, the advertising was misleading. Chris and Reagan are actually quite smart and capable, and seem to have found a happy balance of taking care of their daughter, Amy. The pilot just catches them at a seismic time. Reagan is returning to work, and the couple is forced for the first time to truly confront the new identities they’ve created as parents with the fun-loving, irresponsible drinkers they were to the outside world. This tension provides most of the narrative drive, if not many big laughs. In fact, despite Arnett and Applegate’s experiences doing broad comedy in various other TV and movies, there’s not much playing to the balcony coming from them. Their frustrations for the most part seem reined in and reasonably realistic.

Maya Rudolph’s character, Ava, threatens to upset this balance. Rudolph has been chronically underserved by weak material on SNL and other supporting parts that lean her towards “grating” instead of “amusing.” But her excellent turn in “Bridesmaids” this summer led the producers of “Up All Night” to boost her Oprah-like role. Disappointingly, these producers don’t seem to have paid attention to what made Rudolph great in that role. She possesses a natural and easy charm, but when forced into an overly mannered performance she can quickly become hammy and over-the-top. That’s where she is here, and her almost childlike attention span and selfishness are a harsh disruption to the small domestic world.

“Up All Night” is at its best when the urgency of the scenes come from Reagan and Chris’ fundamental understanding of what they should do without the comprehension of how to get there. A heavily teased moment where they can’t help but shout at their child in fury gains another level when paired with the preceding scenes of them attempting to recapture their foolish, hedonistic ways.

“Up All Night” is anchored by two surprisingly restrained performances, but side characters could damage the show’s ability to build an appealing and consistent world.

Pilot Fever Fall 2011

Despite the fact that the two pilots I am most intrigued by won’t appear for another few months, the fall TV season still does hold some interest for me. I like to start by watching almost everything, then shifting out the weaker offerings week by week. I’m naturally a bit more forgiving of comedies, sitcoms in particular, because there’s an interesting brand of anti-humor to a failed, muggy comedy, rather than the boredom that sets in after a few boring episodes of your typical procedural. Because of that, only the most cliché-ridden cop and doctor shows don’t make my list.

List of pilots was taken from Metacritic’s preview of the 2011-2012 season.

Already Exists: Rather than watching this this show, you might as well watch…
A Gifted Man: “Ghost Whisperer” reruns.
Hart of Dixie: “Doc Hollywood.”
Pan Am: “Mad Men.”
The Playboy Club: “Mad Men.”
The Secret Circle: “The Vampire Diaries.”

Anxiously Awaiting: I’m in for the entire first season at least, be it through actual potential or simply my own perverse tastes.
2 Broke Girls
Apartment 23
Awake
Up All Night

Critical Opinions: I may not be that interested, but critics are in bed with it.
Alcatraz
The New Girl
Person of Interest
The River
Suburgatory

Deep Into the Bench: The cast looks far better than the concept.
Free Agents
How to be a Gentleman
Ringer

Not interested: I’ll check out the pilot, but probably not much more.
Charlie’s Angels
Grimm
Last Man Standing
Once Upon a Time
Unforgettable

So Bad It’s Good: We live in a post-post-ironic world, where this is acceptable.
I Hate My Teenage Daughter
Revenge
Whitney