Karen Cartwright imagines herself in a shimmering white dress, center stage, belting out that ultimate dreamer’s song, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” She stretches her hands above her head, ever so dramatically, because she’s really into this performance – she isn’t just singing these words, she’s feeling them. She closes her eyes. Oh, yeah. She’s all up inside this song and we immediately understand the subtext here: these lyrics have been etched into her heart since she was a small girl, head already full of big city hopes and dreams about makin’ it. A cell phone rings, jolting Karen back to reality. She’s in a small room – far from the spotlight- auditioning for some jaded folks who somehow can’t see that she’s from Iowa and that she has aspirations! How wide-eyed does a girl have to be before someone gives her a leading role in a Broadway musical, yo? American Idol is all about regular people with unexpected talent, yearning for stardom. (Well, it used to be. Now, according to the most recent promos, it’s all about kids falling off of stages.) Katherine McPhee is an American Idol runner-up, so I guess she’s suited for this Karen part on Smash, NBC’s much-hyped drama about the creation of a musical based on the life of Marilyn Monroe. McPhee’s Karen has a fresh-faced charm about her, the kind of girl you’d maybe instinctively root for, and the character’s Midwestern origins are, I believe, supposed to make her that much more appealing. The [Due to Content Scraping and Theft, we have been forced to try abbreviated feeds. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and woud very much appreciate you clicking through to view the full article on FilmSchoolRejects.com]

Man, of all the bowls, the Super Bowl is probably the most egotistical. Super Bowl? Pshaw. More like the Not-Super Bowl. Yeah, I said it. First played in 1967, the Super Bowl was the brainchild of some guys who loved football almost as much as they loved Roman numerals (Super Bowl XL was the year that it was at its t-shirt-sizey-ist). The “big game” marks the end of the NFL season and this is apparently a “big deal” – Super Bowl XLV was the most watched television broadcast in America last year. But if you ask me – and maybe you aren’t asking me, but let’s just pretend you are  the only bowl worth watching this weekend is the Puppy Bowl VII – Animal Planet’s annual Yule Log-esque special, featuring roughly (or, ahem, ruffly) two hours of adorable puppies playing on a model football stadium replete with chew toys and water bowls. Yep, water bowls. So that’s two bowls you’re getting for the price of one. Already, I think you’re starting to see why the Puppy Bowl is better than whatever’s happening in Indianapolis this Sunday.

In the soaringly earnest but effective Touch, Kiefer Sutherland barks so many of his lines with the strained desperation of an exhausted man who’s just barely keeping it together. He’s shouldering a tremendous weight and no one around him is sensitive to his plight. But then, he doesn’t really expect them to be. Best known as badass Jack Bauer, here, a more vulnerable Sutherland is Martin Bohm, widowed father of a mute, emotionally challenged boy and the nucleus of this ambitious Fox drama by Heroes creator Tim Kring.

The premise of the new CBS sitcom ¡Rob! is only interesting if you’ve never heard of Fools Rush In or Guess Who or the Meet the Parents trilogy or perhaps if these are the only movies that you’ve ever truly enjoyed. After a six-week courtship, Rob (Rob Schneider) has eloped with Maggie (Claudia Bassols), having never met her mother and father. Being introduced to the in-laws under these circumstances would probably be distressing for most people but it is particularly so here because Maggie is Mexican-American and Rob…isn’t. Awk-ward! What’s worse, Rob is apparently unable to have a normal conversation with someone whose ethnic background is different than his. “I’m a huge fan of Mexican culture,” he says, trying to endear himself to his father-in-law Fernando (Cheech Marin). He continues: “This dip is excellent. I believe it’s called guacamole.” Was this the kind of woo he was pitching when he first met Maggie?

The Gods at ABC have smiled down upon us. In what seems like the first logical thing done in the 2012 midseason, the Disney network has cancelled the insufferable Work It, the Bosom Buddies­-style “comedy” about two men who cross-dress to get a job in pharmaceutical sales. While this news is a triumph on its own, it paved the way for another exciting revelation – a Valentine’s Day premiere date for cult favorite Cougar Town. Praise Big Carl! The return of this Bill Lawrence comedy is some of the most exciting news since, well, the cancellation of Work It. This comedy, premiering in 2009 after Modern Family, is a wine-soaked, sun-bathed Golden Girls of the new age; a poorly-named glimpse at the lives of the Sex and the City gals, had they headed to suburbia. They do everything wrong – handling everyday situations as inappropriately as the Seinfeld gang; acting sometimes as selfishly as those deplorable Paddy’s Pub managers over on It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia – but these characters are strangely endearing in a way that’s perhaps amplified by chardonnay. Now, I’m not claiming that Cougar Town is the highbrowiest of programs. Heck, its (admittedly horrible) name is derived from a term coined by the Kardashian generation. Yes, Courtney Cox has indulged in so much botox that her Monica Gellar qualities are almost unrecognizable, and her voice can be a little grating. No, you certainly won’t get any intellectual benefit from it, a la Mad Men, or Breaking Bad, or [Due to Content Scraping and Theft, we have been forced to try abbreviated feeds. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and woud very much appreciate you clicking through to view the full article on FilmSchoolRejects.com]

When we first see our frowzy anti-hero, he’s alone, smoking, pacing back and forth in the men’s room of an upscale New York restaurant, rehearsing…something.  “You’re amazing, a goddess, a gift from on high.” Is it a poem? A marriage proposal? Has he finally found a love so powerful and true that it’s remedied his hitherto cankered existence? No, of course not. Later, face-to-face with the delusional woman who somehow didn’t see this coming, he finishes the thought. “You deserve the white dress and the happy ending. I’m just not the guy to give it to you.”  Hank Moody is the same man he’s been since day one—insincere, kind of a jerk, closetful of black clothes. Season five of Californication picks up two years after the events of season four (hey, I guess the world doesn’t end in 2012). Karen (Natasha McElhone) is now married and apparently happy about it; Charlie (Evan Handler) and Marcy (Pamela Aldon) still aren’t together but have a two-year-old son (the kid hasn’t started talking yet which may or may not have something to do with the fact that both of his parents are apt to have sex in places where it’s quite easy to stumble upon them); Becca (Madeleine Martin) is in college, dating an arrogantly suave, younger version of her dad (who didn’t see that coming?); and Hank still hasn’t shaved.

Ah, the television midseason. By now, the public has decided which new shows they’ll stick with (Revenge, 2 Broke Girls, New Girl), which they’re unsure about (Pan Am, Prime Suspect, Once Upon a Time) and which aren’t even worth thinking about (The Playboy Club, Free Agents). There’s little chance that if something hasn’t become appointment viewing by now, it’s worth cancelling the DVR season pass. So while we’re all finally getting over the tragedy that was Charlie’s Angels, the network bigwigs are using their highly-representative sample (comprised, one can only imagine, of elderly people, religious zealots, and the entirety of the state of West Virginia) to determine just what they’ll throw at us next. Sure, some of the best shows have been birthed out of a midseason replacement (ahem, Happy Endings, ahem), but the pickings are often more than slim – shows the networks don’t often find strong enough to debut with their fellow newbies in the fall. So what will we have to look forward to (or to run away from) in our TV Guide in the coming weeks? Sure, PBS will kick off the second season of critical and ratings darling Downton Abbey January 8th, while NBC’s 30 Rock is back January 12th. Cee-Lo Green will once again be gracing our television screens with The Voice’s post-Superbowl premiere, and Timothy Olyphant will be emanating his rugged swagger on Justified once more, as the lawman drama kicks off its third season January 17th. But what of the newly minted [Due to Content Scraping and Theft, we have been forced to try abbreviated feeds. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause and woud very much appreciate you clicking through to view the full article on FilmSchoolRejects.com]

Because it’s Saturday, we’re talking television. That’s when Amber Humphrey publishes her weekly entry of Channel Guide, our twice-weekly column on all things television. But there’s something else at work this week. It might be Saturday, but it’s also the final day of the year. And what better way to send off our coverage of television in the year 2011 than with a list of the shows that we loved most dearly. In order to do so, Channel Guiders Amber Humphrey and Mikela Floyd each contributed their picks for the five best shows of the year, in no particular order. In keeping with our ’11 Best’ theme for the Year in Review, FSR Publisher and closet television fanatic (don’t tell movies, we don’t want them to be jealous) Neil Miller throws in one final pick with his own best show of the year. All powers combined, they have unleashed our list of the 11 Best TV Shows of 2011.

I’m not generally a fan of the phrase “jumped the shark.” I think it’s presumptuous; as if I personally decided the standards with which a show should continue, and how it should be evaluated. I know what you’re saying “but… that’s exactly what you do.” Yes, yes it is. But that doesn’t mean I don’t oftentimes feel bad about it. So when it came time to think of what aspect of 2011’s television offerings I would break down for your perusal, a nagging feeling piqued in the back of my mind – a lot of what’s on television should no longer be on television. And I’m not just talking about shows like Grey’s Anatomy, Desperate Housewives, or any other number of programs that have worn out their proverbial welcome in the Neilsen households of America. No, I’m referring specifically to the handful of TV shows that chose 2011 as the year to hammer that final nail in the coffin of television irrelevancy. Just what, pray tell, are these shows that I’ve deemed no longer worthy of filling my DVR? Read on, and when preparing the hate mail, remember that Mikela has one A, not two.

I mooch Showtime off of family, friends, and strangers so it wasn’t until earlier this week that I was able to finagle my way into someone’s home to watch the Dexter finale. This is less of a personal confession and more of a warning. Yes, I will be breaking in to your house this Christmas/Hanukkah to jack cable TV from you but more importantly, if you don’t always watch Dexter finales when they originally air and still haven’t seen the shocking yet, in many ways, inevitable conclusion to season 6, then I suggest that you stop reading this right now. Though, before we address those last couple of minutes, let’s look at the season as a whole, which was the most ambitious, heavy-handed, and ultimately weirdest to date.

After all of the hype from the fall television premieres has died down, we are now in for the second wave of excitement that happens midseason. If all of the shows that begin airing in September are dinner, then the ones that come in the winter are dessert – of course, that dessert can be horrible, you know, maybe taste a little like Sons of Tucson. This metaphor is wearing thin, so before I start talking about oatmeal raisin cookies and non-fat yogurt, here’s a list of the midseason series premieres that I have my eye on.

Netflix is really jumping envelope first into the production game, having already set up deals to bring David Fincher and Kevin Spacey’s House of Cards, Jenji Kohan’s Orange is the New Black and more episodes of Arrested Development to the little screen. Now, according to Deadline Hemlock Grove, they’re close to securing a deal with Gaumont International Television to produce 13 hour-long episodes of Hemlock Grove, based on the novel of the same name by Brian McGreevy. McGreevy will be involved as a writer (alongside writing partner Lee Shipman), but the biggest name attached is executive producer and director Eli Roth who would bring his baseball bat into the mix. The story is focused on the murder of a young girl who is found ripped up near a steel mill and the two young men trying to solve it. Werewolves are inevitably involved. The big question is whether original programming will help save Netflix. If you’re considering dropping them, are shows like this enough to make you reconsider?

Mad Men, Dexter, Game of Thrones—it’s such a great time for instrumental TV theme songs. But what about themes with lyrics, themes that follow the example set by classic shows like The Brady Bunch, Rawhide, The Jeffersons, and even The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? Sadly, this variety of signature tune is a dying breed, seemingly destined to go the way of the laugh track. OK, so no one’s really bemoaning the near extinction of the laugh track but, as TV lovers, we should be concerned about the current lack of title music that we can actually sing along to. Whether we like it or not, the words to the themes from Gilligan’s Island, Cheers, Charles in Charge, Friends, Family Matters, and The Greatest American Hero, are floating around in our heads. Simple rhyming verses like “if the teacher pops a test, I know I’m in a mess, and my dog ate all my homework last night, riding low in my chair, she won’t know that I’m there, if I can hand it in tomorrow it’ll be all right” have become culturally significant. But what will this generation’s TV theme song legacy be? Here’s a list of series, all premiering within the last 10 years, that are keeping this proud vocal tradition alive with their original music (that is, songs composed specifically for the program) and predictions of whether or not these themes will stand the test of time.

Almost every episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is exactly the same: the show’s pack of misguided ne’er-do-wells come up with some half-baked yet bafflingly elaborate scheme, shenanigans, shenanigans, shenanigans, strangely adorable Danny DeVito orbits the action, and then finally, all of the quixotic idealism at the top of the episode is either squashed by reason or melts into smug indifference. This simple structure is endearing—it’s the cornerstone of the show—and as a fan, you tune into Always Sunny expecting it, maybe even finding comfort in it; but you also expect the aforementioned shenanigans to be entertaining enough to justify that simplicity. The show’s seventh season—currently two episodes away from its finale—has been disappointing. The tried and true format, which in more prosperous times (see seasons 1-5) had been a boon, now seems threadbare, each week calling attention to how spotty the writing has become.

AMC’s zombie-pocalypse drama The Walking Dead should have everything going for it. It holds a spot on the Sunday night lineup of a network with a seemingly can’t-miss scorecard when it comes to original drama series (I loved The Killing, I don’t care what anyone says); it boasts a dark and usually unexplored TV subject matter; and it’s season 2 premiere broke cable ratings records. Additionally, it’s a never-fail trending topic every Sunday night — a subject echoed through the virtual voices of social media-ers everywhere. Before I jump into the oh-so-inevitable criticism (I promise, I do actually LIKE television), let me preface my musings with this: I LOVED this show when it premiered. Like many other television enthusiasts (read: hermits) I stayed in on Halloween eve, lapping up the undead adventures of Rick Grimes, et. al with an insatiable fervor. Lately, though? I find myself hemming and hawing for ¾ of every hour-long episode about just what causes this show to fail in my eyes — the characters. Sure, there are a few that aren’t entirely detestable, but the majority of the people on The Walking Dead are so deplorable that by the end of each week, you’re praying that they’re the next blue plate special at the zombie café. So while we all begrudgingly ponder what season 2’s conclusion holds, I proudly present my very own Walking Dead Character Annoyance Index. Enjoy.

Because I have the sleeping habits of a 75-year-old golden girl, I rarely stay up past 11:00 pm (sometimes even 9:00 is pushing it). But I’m more than willing to cast aside my senior citizen bedtime if it means that I get to watch The Heart, She Holler—Adult Swim’s latest foray into live-action comedy. This twisted six-part miniseries, starring Patton Oswalt and Bob’s Burgers’ Kristen Schaal, is a hodgepodge of Lynchian surrealism, Southern Gothic melodrama, and absurdist humor. Although Adult Swim is known for its incendiary programming, The Heart, She Holler, which first aired earlier this month, is arguably the most subversive and definitely the most disturbingly funny live-action comedy currently on the network (and who would expect anything less from a show produced by PFFR, the company behind Wonder Showzen?).

On the Zooey Deschanel-led New Girl, titular character Jess Day is an aloof, offbeat, and (let’s face it) awkward twenty-something, forced to move in with three random guys after a tough breakup. She wears thick-framed glasses, watches Dirty Dancing on a loop, and even weaves Lord of the Rings quotes into regular conversation at the blink of an eye. On paper, well, she’s not that far from myself- another Woody Allen-loving, Star Wars-quoting, sometimes bespectacled gal. So why is it that week after week, I find myself increasingly annoyed with her overly twee behavior?

Editor’s Note: We are very excited to welcome you to the relaunch of Channel Guide, our twice weekly column covering the world of television. Taking over the column are not one, but two talented ladies with a wealth of knowledge and wit. Every Saturday will feature a new essay from Amber Humphrey, a writer who has been with FSR since 2009 and has, at every turn, impressed us with her unique voice. And now, on with the show… The title is super cryptic so I’ll explain the premise of Ghost Hunters for anyone who has somehow managed to escape its hypnotic appeal: Ghost Hunters is a reality show in which some dudes (Roto-Rooter plumbers turned paranormal experts) hunt ghosts. Really, though, saying that The Atlantic Paranormal Society (or TAPS) “hunt ghosts” makes the series sound a lot more thrilling than it actually is.

Editor’s Note: We are very excited to welcome you to the relaunch of Channel Guide, our twice weekly column covering the world of television. Taking over the column are not one, but two talented ladies with a wealth of knowledge and wit. Every Wednesday will feature a new essay from Mikela Floyd, a newcomer to FSR and a voice we’re really excited to be able to share with all of you. And now, on with the show… Something’s happening on network television, and it’s conjuring some pretty serious childhood flashbacks. That’s right, TV’s got a pretty big mean streak these days, and it’s got me feeling like my weekly viewing habits are just one televised squabble over the seating arrangements at the cool kids’ table. Sure, there are some notably peppy programs filling my DVR, but for every ‘Steak Me Home Tonight’ sandwich (Happy Endings) and anorexia-stricken stewardess (Pan Am), there are innumerable instances of primetime snark that are getting meaner and meaner.

Editor’s Note: After more than a year, Merrill Barr will be leaving the Reject Family and moving on to bigger and better things. We wish him all the best. And now the series finale of Channel Guide… Finale. A dangerous word in the world of television. Dangerous because it comes with a hefty amount of baggage for those working on a show that ‘s coming to an end. Everything a series has been working towards, whether serialized or episodic, has to be fulfilled in the finale. And somehow, the writers have the terrible job of making everyone feel like the journey was worth it. When broken down, there’s really only two things necessary in order to deliver on a good series finale, stability and closure. Stability refers to where the characters end up. Whether its happily ever after, in the grave, in the after life or on the run, the audience needs to know that however we leave the characters is how they will remain for the remainder of their fictional days. This isn’t to say that the audience needs to know every single detail, but a general idea needs to be available (or at least the tools necessary to draw a conclusion).