Hawaii 5-0: This was a highly anticipated pilot, which I read beforehand and it actually delivers a few pleasant surprises that were not in the script, that only visuals and actors can add. I first watched an old episode of the original and was delighted to see it open with hippies protesting Viet Nam and then later see men in suits and ties solving crimes and a lot of tension around a man pulling out a gun. Ah, the high level of story, technology and suspense of crime dramas of the 60’s. Now, in this redux, we open with terrorism and have a plethora of explosions, technology that “The Wire” would envy and a guy in jeans and a tight tee solving murders. It’s fun and I am not into cop shows but I have to say Scott Caan is really good and adds some nice sensitivity. Papa James would be proud. Daniel Dae Kim (who I went to theater school for a semester with – only 30 of us) was underused in the pilot and I hope they punch up the depth of his role, but I loved the female. She is that nice combination of hot/cute who can really kick ass.
My worry: I’m not sure how a guy with a background in terrorism can work on one island in Hawaii season after season, but we’ll see. I give this an B+.
Mike & Molly: I wasn’t sure how I’d like this show about two heavy people meeting at OA and my fears were a little founded as I cringed at how many fat jokes peppered this pilot, but it also had some nice humor and sweet sensitivity. Strangely enough the heart came more from the male character than the female but both had great humor and pathos. I never heard of the male lead but I love me some Melissa McCarthy (who I was in a Groundlings class with and fondly remember being in her home, writing a sketch we acted in together- she was excellent) – and I hope this takes off. My Worry: Fat jokes make people uncomfortable, may not be enough of a premise, and besides that, these two make their first date in the pilot, so where’s the conflict and “Cheers” like ,“will they won’t they” sexual tension? I give it a B.
Lone Star: When I heard this was about a polygamist, I started thinking about “Big Love” and how incredible that show is, but this is very different- and equally intriguing. It had a lot of surprises, especially from the heart and abilities of the main actor, James Wolk. The main character is actually married in one Texas city, and has a girlfriend in the other. We assume he’s a sleazebag as it reveals he is a con man working with his sleazebag father, but as the pilot continues, a big surprise is how much the main character actually wishes he could go legit, is controlled by his father, loves two women and aches to make a home with one or both. The main actor is hot, slick, and by the end we actually sympathize with him and how much he just wants to be loved for who he is. I am also ashamed of myself for watching the whole pilot knowing I’d seen the wife before and then needing IMDB to tell me she was Tyra on one of my favorite shows, Friday Night Lights. Shame on me. My worry: I’m confused about it ending on him actually marrying a second woman- as that seems stupid for such a smart con man and illegal. He could’ve gone on the way it was for a while and saved that for a season finale. The pilot does not give us a reason for this; it seems to just want to end on a cliffhanger. It seems to have blown a lot of its wad in the pilot and could’ve spaced a few more elements out. But I’m hooked to keep watching. I give it an A-.
Outsourced: The reviews are right when they say that people have to get over the queasiness we feel, during a Recession, watching a show about giving away American jobs to India. The show is both funny and full of interesting characters, but the actual style is a little hard to pin down. A filmed comedy, it’s packaged and scheduled with “The Office” but doesn’t have the awkwardness or laughs per page of that show. It feels like a ¾ comedy and ¼ drama. The writers were brilliant when they came up with the company selling stupid American novelties because that gave it a lot of jokes and cultural issues to mine. The woman who barely speaks up is great and the payoff to that bit was both funny and heartwarming. My worry: Like “Mike & Molly” and the fat jokes, Outsourced will be cow and “the food will give you the runs” jokes over and over, and get a little tired. Not to mention it’s about stereotypes. We’ll see if this show has legs. I give it a B+.
I did not act with anyone on the show "Outsourced" but maybe my counterpart in India did.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
September Morn...
September.
Ick.
The summer was fun. I played with all my friends, it was warm and nice and there were no grown ups telling me what to do. Now I have to get new clothes, supplies, wake up early, do my work and follow a whole bunch of rules and regulations. There are all these new faces- the place is new so I don’t know my way around – and I can’t believe we started in August. It’s not fair.
Yes, I’m a teacher.
By the end of June, when I know and love my kids and they know and love me, I send ‘em off, really enjoy them, let them in a little more. But September? Can’t tease ‘em yet because they have to know my ways and that I care first. Ah, who am I kidding? I tease them from day one. But I don’t know what they need individually yet- both academically and emotionally. I have to learn my way, their ways, and grow some young adults, all over again. From the top.
While that summer wind still blows in my ear, my hips don’t want to put on a skirt and my hand doesn’t want to clock in. But once I get there and see my buddies, and my kids’ little faces and the tiny evil one in preschool who once chased me with his tricycle, that’s another story.
September isn’t just the beginning of the school year- it’s the beginning of relationships.
And I know I’ll fall in love, just like I do, year after year.
But I can be just a little crabby.
Because after all, I have a whole new group of kids and parents to train – forget academics - it takes a little while before I’ve got them being as funny as I require. ☺
Ick.
The summer was fun. I played with all my friends, it was warm and nice and there were no grown ups telling me what to do. Now I have to get new clothes, supplies, wake up early, do my work and follow a whole bunch of rules and regulations. There are all these new faces- the place is new so I don’t know my way around – and I can’t believe we started in August. It’s not fair.
Yes, I’m a teacher.
By the end of June, when I know and love my kids and they know and love me, I send ‘em off, really enjoy them, let them in a little more. But September? Can’t tease ‘em yet because they have to know my ways and that I care first. Ah, who am I kidding? I tease them from day one. But I don’t know what they need individually yet- both academically and emotionally. I have to learn my way, their ways, and grow some young adults, all over again. From the top.
While that summer wind still blows in my ear, my hips don’t want to put on a skirt and my hand doesn’t want to clock in. But once I get there and see my buddies, and my kids’ little faces and the tiny evil one in preschool who once chased me with his tricycle, that’s another story.
September isn’t just the beginning of the school year- it’s the beginning of relationships.
And I know I’ll fall in love, just like I do, year after year.
But I can be just a little crabby.
Because after all, I have a whole new group of kids and parents to train – forget academics - it takes a little while before I’ve got them being as funny as I require. ☺
Sunday, September 5, 2010
A Different Kind Of "Bucket List"
My mother had a stroke long before I was born. She was not incapable or anything, but she had a bad memory, which led to a bit of insecurity, and she lost her sense of smell. As hard as I tried to keep their marriage together at the tender age of 9 months, my parents still got divorced and my dad moved out. My older brothers followed after many years and from sophomore year on, I was the only one at home. At times I tried to talk about some of my issues, but a few relatives told me it was harder on them as they knew her before the stroke, and some who had left, didn’t really want to think about it. My mother had it rough, I felt I had to not take my stuff out on her, but where would I dump it? I needed a “bucket,” someone not involved, who could just hear my crap, let me get it out, and then it would flow through them. It wasn’t their problem anyway. And the one thing I learned from science is that “Matter is neither created not destroyed, it merely changes shape.” This meant that my anger, resentment and frustrations would come out some way, so why not into a figurative bucket, held by a good friend, emptied and reset for later?
I became sensitive to this issue of a “bucket.” For example, when a friend’s mother was dying of cancer, she had to be strong for her mother- and her father. And all of the family members had their own issues to deal with. So I told her I’d be her bucket. She could vent her feelings out to me, a person who loved her mother, but was more removed, so that she could go back and then be strong for everyone else again. I also did this recently with a friend whose wife was about to have a baby. The pregnant woman had it rough, and my friend had to deal with all of the craziness and frustrations, so I called every now and then and said, “How is it for you?” I held the bucket, my friend emptied, and then went back to being the supportive one.
So recently, I spoke to a 7th grade girl whom I love. Who has slightly “dramatic” reactions to issues in classes sometimes, and for a 7th grader, that’s normal, but her reactions get her in trouble. I told her about my bucket idea, and that if anything happened at school - like if she felt that a teacher was not being fair - for her to not explode, but to come to me, and I’ll hold the bucket. I would try (it is hard for me) not to try to fix it or advise her, but to just listen and hold it until it flowed away. She asked how it was that it flowed away, and I said, because I wasn’t emotionally involved, I could listen without getting triggered. We made that agreement and on the first day of school she used it.
On the third day of school, I had had some very challenging events occur, and was overwhelmed and feeling emotionally gutted. I went in early and thought of this girl, and how what I would want is one of her hugs. I found her and said, “I’m miserable and need a hug.” She gave me a hug and said, “Now I’m your bucket.” I smiled and said, “Yes, we’re bucket buddies.”
That reinvigorated me.
Perhaps we should all make a new kind of “Bucket List.”
I became sensitive to this issue of a “bucket.” For example, when a friend’s mother was dying of cancer, she had to be strong for her mother- and her father. And all of the family members had their own issues to deal with. So I told her I’d be her bucket. She could vent her feelings out to me, a person who loved her mother, but was more removed, so that she could go back and then be strong for everyone else again. I also did this recently with a friend whose wife was about to have a baby. The pregnant woman had it rough, and my friend had to deal with all of the craziness and frustrations, so I called every now and then and said, “How is it for you?” I held the bucket, my friend emptied, and then went back to being the supportive one.
So recently, I spoke to a 7th grade girl whom I love. Who has slightly “dramatic” reactions to issues in classes sometimes, and for a 7th grader, that’s normal, but her reactions get her in trouble. I told her about my bucket idea, and that if anything happened at school - like if she felt that a teacher was not being fair - for her to not explode, but to come to me, and I’ll hold the bucket. I would try (it is hard for me) not to try to fix it or advise her, but to just listen and hold it until it flowed away. She asked how it was that it flowed away, and I said, because I wasn’t emotionally involved, I could listen without getting triggered. We made that agreement and on the first day of school she used it.
On the third day of school, I had had some very challenging events occur, and was overwhelmed and feeling emotionally gutted. I went in early and thought of this girl, and how what I would want is one of her hugs. I found her and said, “I’m miserable and need a hug.” She gave me a hug and said, “Now I’m your bucket.” I smiled and said, “Yes, we’re bucket buddies.”
That reinvigorated me.
Perhaps we should all make a new kind of “Bucket List.”
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