Mythology: Rescue Me
By Martin Felipe
September 7, 2011
BoxOfficeProphets.com
Then there’s the quality show that bypasses its natural endpoint, resulting in an overall devaluing of the brand. The X-Files is a perfect example. This show was such a phenomenon in the '90s, yet it continued on for two years after David Duchovney wanted out, and the show was already showing wear by that point. As a result, a show that should have entered into television legend seems more a '90s relic. Now, as the summer winds down and we head into the antiquated traditional television season, three shows, once a big deal, limp to their conclusions, shadows of their former selves, likely to become similar relics because they didn’t know when to quit.
As we hit the ten year anniversary of 9/11, the show most dedicated to its memory crawls across the finish line. When Rescue Me premiered, it seemed like FX’s new big deal after the successes of The Shield and Nip/Tuck. And, sure enough, acclaim greeted the show about an alcoholic New York firefighter and his team as they face the loss of their friends and colleagues in the wake of the Twin Tower collapse.
The thing is, as melancholy as that sounds, and the show certainly isn’t shy about exploring that melancholy, some of the strongest moments of the early years feature the good natured camaraderie of Tommy Gavin and his team, hanging around the firehouse, busting each other’s balls. As the show progresses, however, the dialogue remains witty, but the layers of the male bonding fray. Or rather we discover that these men really aren’t that layered. What starts as a celebration of masculine heroism devolves into a display of homophobic befuddlement.
Not that the women get a much better deal. The show has its share of female characters come and go, but the two mainstays Sheila and Janet, though more urbane than Tommy and pals, are no less shallow. Increasingly shrill and histrionic (Sheila), cold and judgmental (Janet), we lose sight of why they would want to be with Tommy in the first place, or he them.
But the biggest crime, the reason the show lost its mojo, is lack of direction. Unlike its F/X counterparts The Shield, Sons of Anarchy or Justified, Rescue Me is a serial that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. While the other shows tell a cohesive story, Tommy’s tale just goes on and on, repeating themes and events, building to nothing. Events happen, but they aren’t climactic or a part of a greater whole.
The rambling nature of the narrative isn’t necessarily a problem. ER, for example, got by on that model for a time (before it overstayed its welcome as well). Dennis Leary seems to be aiming for something cohesive, some grand celebration of 9/11 heroism, some grand lament of society’s lack of recognition, some grand tribute to the day’s tragedy. Instead, what he’s come up with is a diverting exploration of the silliness of the masculine gender role, sprinkled with some 9/11 rumination. In the end, it's not a bad show, but misses the bull’s-eye it aims for.
(On a completely separate note, it’s too bad that this last batch of episodes were shot a year ago. Seems a shame that a show with 9/11 woven into its DNA isn’t able to address Osama’s death. Then again, the narrative is so loose, they could have gone back to shoot an episode about it, snuck it in somewhere, and it wouldn’t have disrupted the flow at all.)
Another former buzz hit stumbling across the finish line also approaches masculine shallowness, but in a far less entertaining way and, I have to say, IS a bad show. When Entourage debuted, it was hailed as the male Sex And The City. Unlike the Sarah Jessica Parker show, however, people caught on to the disgusting superficiality of the characters before the second movie. People caught on about three seasons in.
The stakes involved in a show about Hollywood aren’t life and death. They pretty much come down to: will the movie get made? Who really cares if you don’t care about the characters? And the four main characters are a couple of swaggering peacocks (Drama and Turtle), an uptight stick-in-the-mud (E), and a supposedly good actor played by a boring actor (Vince). And this boring actor is the lead. How am I as a viewer supposed to care about this group with such a bland lead?
I will say that unappealing characters can make for good shows. Look no further than Seinfeld or Arrested Development. The difference is that those shows embrace the off-putting nature of the characters. Entourage, on the other hand, seems to think these four are charming. It doesn’t seem to think there’s anything unlikable about them at all. So, by not playing off their distasteful natures, the show asks us to sympathize with their frivolous show biz plights. And, once the glamour wore off a few seasons in, so did the show’s place in the pop culture stratosphere.
To the show’s credit, in recent seasons, they’ve tried to make the stakes higher, introducing drug problems for Vince and a divorce for Ari, but the writers never seem to realize, Ari excluded, that the characters are raging assholes. Perhaps this is why Ari became the breakout character. He’s the only one who revels in his assholery. However, while I might miss his brilliant offensive rants, I will not miss Entourage as it comes to its under-the-pop-culture-radar end.
The third show ending may not actually be ending. I’ve looked all over the Internet and I don’t think that, as of this writing, Showtime has officially cancelled Weeds. It should. There’s a strong possibility that it won’t.
The problem is that Showtime’s got nothin’. In 2011, its only program that is still pop culturally relevant is Dexter (so expect that one to last many seasons too long as well). In its years-long quest to match HBO as a premium channel source of quality programming, it stumbled across what seemed to be a winner with Weeds. And then ran it into the ground.
When Weeds began, it was a broad parody of suburban life. Mocking suburbia is nothing new, but creator Jenji Kohan gave it that cable edge that you just can’t find on the big four networks by making the show’s heroine Nancy Botwin a single mom pot dealer. I must admit, even from the start I found the show strained, but it touched a cultural nerve and, for a short while, became Showtime’s signature show.
Then, a few seasons in, Nancy and her wacky pals leave Agrestic, and the show is no longer a parody of suburbia, but more a zany drug/sex farce. Then it’s a drug/ fugitive show. Then it's whatever it is this year. I’m a fan of evolving stories. Don’t get me wrong. In fact, I like that the show has broadened its scope. Fans of the show, on the other hand, don’t.
It really has gone so far from where it began, it’s a continual frustration for many viewers. While I appreciate the somewhat risky directions it’s taken, I’ve always found the comedy cloying, winking. It’s like Kohan holds up a sign to the audience “Look at how bold our antics are, can you believe we went there?” In all caps. With about 12 exclamation points.
So here you have a show with a comedic sensibility that I find condescending, with some storytelling choices that audiences feel betrays the show’s premise. And yet, Showtime refuses to let it die. We shall see if this season brings an end to Nancy’s misadventures, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re treated to an even new direction for the show in summer 2012.
I lament these shows that networks can’t put out of their misery. Yes, I realize that networks are more in the business of making money than they are in making art, but it doesn’t mean I have to be happy with it. I respect a show like Lost, which had the success to last for many more years, but got out when the story was over. It looks as if Breaking Bad will do so as well next season. Networks may not like it now, but Lost and Breaking Bad will enjoy a long term ancillary legacy that shows like Rescue Me, Entourage and Weeds likely won’t. Look no further than the failure of the second X-Files movie as evidence. In any case, goodbye Rescue Me and Entourage. You know that old cliché about the door and your ass…