Looking For The Heart of Friday Night

I am struck by the number of people who are freaking out about the ending of the Harry Potter movies this Friday, a series of films based on well-known books to which even non-readers probably know the ending.  I've not seen any of the movies, even though I see a lot of movies, and I don't care to start (I don't particularly want  to wade through the first two Chris Columbus films to get to the Alfonso Cuaron movie and beyond). I don't hold any ill will toward the movies or Pottermania in general and I'm glad people enjoy them, but this weekend marks the end of another franchise that does mean something to me, and I'll be sad to see it go.

I've not read the book Friday Night Lights by H.G. Bissinger nor seen the 2004 movie of the same name starring Billy Bob Thornton, but when the television show premiered on NBC in fall of 2006, I gave it a shot.  It was one of the better-reviewed pilots of that year, and, clearly, I watch too much television.  I didn't love it at first, but it had just enough of a spark to keep me coming back.  The acting was mostly good even if they trotted out some stereotypes I'm not fond of, like the secretly sensitive bad boy and the not-so-secretly slutty cheerleader.  The show finally found a wonderfully naturalistic groove as people realized the show used football as window dressing to explore community and friendship and growing up and commitment to family and work.  It's the show blue collar America claims they want yet never support when it's on the air.  Yes, the people who watched and supported a show about family values in a small Texas town were mostly urban literati in ivory towers. The show barely got a second season despite ending as one of the best shows on TV, especially network TV, which keeps getting its dramatic ass handed to it by HBO, Showtime, AMC and FX.

That second season was easily the worst thing the show has done, particularly an absurd murder plot and then an appearance by Coach Taylor's wife's ultra-successful ex-boyfriend (played by the show's executive producer, Peter Berg).  Perhaps not being able to finish the season because of a writer's strike was a mercy killing, even though other great stories were threaded in beside the lunacy.  Still low-rated but championed by critics and a loyal fan-base, a game-changing deal was struck between DirecTV and NBC in which DirecTV ponied up some costs to produce the show. DirecTV got the rights to air the show first, with NBC effectively getting the rights to re-runs.  As FNL was one of the cheapest dramas being produced on network TV, it made sense to keep it around on a network as poorly run and starved for programming as NBC was at the time.

Seasons three through five took the bold steps of saying goodbye to graduating, popular characters, establishing new ones, and even forcing Coach Taylor out of his job and into the miserable situation of having to rebuild the football program at a neighboring, rival school.  The show kept plugging along, reveling in small victories and rich, believable characters, not all of whom were always likable. Again, the football remained largely a secondary pursuit in the drama and something the writing staff clearly struggled with at times.  The Dillon Panthers and the East Dillon Lions each won far too many games on dramatic plays in the closing seconds, but, like a girlfriend who takes too long to get ready to go out, some things you learn to forgive.

Until FNL, my favorite familial relationship on television was the father/daughter dynamic of Veronica Mars and Keith Mars, though with all the murders and various other crimes on that show, I don't know if one can argue that it's a realistic relationship.  But Eric and Tami Taylor are nothing if not realistic.  They deal with budgeting issues and pregnancy and a misbehaving teenage daughter and conflicts brought about by their jobs (Tami, at various times on the show, works as school principal and guidance counselor) with a dignity and grace.  They don't always agree and they may argue, but one never doubts their love and commitment to each other and their family.  Besides the show's lynchpin central relationship, it did a good job of dealing with a variety of issues during the show's run: racism, class issues, sports injuries, absentee parenting, addiction, mental illness, et. al.  It also presented maybe the best television episodes I've ever seen about teen sexuality (when Matt Saracen and Julie Taylor choose NOT to have sex) and the domestic cost of war (Matt Saracen burying his dad).  Maybe I just like Zach Gilford as Matt Saracen, the kid who is a fair football player, but not good enough to get a college scholarship.  I also love Adrianne Palicki as Tyra Collette, a smart, willful girl who may or may not have a future as the town slut; Jesse Plemons as Landry Clarke, the always-entertaining smartass best friend; Michael B. Jordan as Vince Howard, the street kid who thrives under the structure of football; Brad Leland as Buddy Garrity, loud-mouthed booster with too much influence; and Scott Porter as Jason Street, the golden boy who loses it all and gains some of it back.  I even came to appreciate the hated "secretly sensitive bad boy," the oft-shirtless Taylor Kitsch as Tim Riggins.

Sadly, this is the kind of show that could have lasted a decade and still been vibrant and interesting. The fact that it made it five years and still remained the most consistently good show on network television despite terrible ratings and the curse of being "critically acclaimed" is a minor miracle.  But I happily anticipate a few years from now when I'll take a few DVDs down from the shelf and cue up a streaming service for the rest, and I'll watch the whole series again from start to finish. Honestly and truly, Friday Night Lights is one of the best damn shows I've ever seen, and it may be the best show ever done about both high school and sports. I may keep tonight's final episode on the TiVo for a few days before I finish it off, because when it's done, there shall be no more. I doubt that I will cry, but I may well feel like it.

Farewell, Friday Night Lights. It was a pleasure.

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As an aside, the ESPN Classic network has bought the rights to rebroadcast Friday Night Lights from the beginning, and Bill Simmons' GRANTLAND web venture has an entertaining oral history of the show just posted.  Both are worth your time.

Begin the Begin

Just wanted to make note of something I discovered last week and have watched three or four times since.  I told you I love title sequences! Sadly, this doesn't tell you much about the show, other than it will be kinda trippy, but the theme song is pretty great, if nothing else. (Note: original video was removed, but I located another which is essentially identical).

I should also note that I have never seen an episode of DOCTOR WHO. I've seen a minute or two here or there, and am enough of a geek that I understand the general concept of the show and recognize a good bit of its iconography, but, nope, not a single episode.  No Tom Baker. No David Tennant. Not even the adorable Billie Piper could get me to sit down and watch a Christopher Eccleston episode, nor has the lovely, crimson-tressed Karen Gillan convinced me to partake in the Matt Smith iteration of the character.

It's not that I think I'll dislike the show.  I'm fairly certain I'd enjoy it. But, simply put, when I start something, I prefer to start AT THE BEGINNING. And, in this case, that would require watching dozens and dozens of shows that started airing in 1963.  It lasted 26 years before it was cancelled. There was a failed new version in 1996 intended as a pilot for US television and it was officially brought back in a seemingly new-viewer-friendly form in 2005.  But I'm sure they utilize call-backs and easter eggs aplenty to the original run of the show, otherwise why call it DOCTOR WHO?  If you want to make something newish, then put some contemporary window dressing on it, wipe the slate clean and call it PROFESSOR WHY.

So I'll not be watching DOCTOR WHO for the moment, and I'm actually OK with that.  It's one bit of popcult mythology I've never been compelled to open up and play with.  I actually think it's pretty great that a variety of writers and producers have collaborated over the years to build a lasting sci-fi vehicle that thousands of people have embraced so fully, and the collaborative building or controlled open-sourcing of a specific mythology over decades is not unlike another medium I love, comic books.  It's not like Spider-Man or Batman have had a lone auteur voice guiding them since their inception.

Everything doesn't have to be friendly to people just discovering it.  Most corporate comic books "reboot" or "relaunch" themselves every few years, and DC Comics is about to do it again, but in my opinion that disrespects the work which has come before. If I ever decide to open my brain to DOCTOR WHO, it will be with a respect to what existed before I showed up. And hopefully it will begin with what came before.