Sugar-free TV

Last month, Steven Spielberg complained to the board of the International Emmys about blood and guts. The networks need to be more cautious about what airs in those hours when kids might be watching TV, he said: "I'm a parent who is very concerned."

But a few years back, Spielberg did not put the kibosh on the pre-10 p.m. network airings of two of his most brutal movies, "Schindler's List" and "Saving Private Ryan." In fact, when "Schindler's List" first ran on NBC in 1997, Spielberg insisted it not be edited. And blood and guts aren't even that movie's most violent material.

The debate over what should be considered "family TV" is never-ending. We talk ourselves into spirals of contradiction, illogic, and subjectivity when we make big pronouncements about how to control a child's imagination. Oddly, if you ask the Parents Television Council what kids ought to watch, the answer is reality TV. In October, the socially conservative organization determined that of the 20 most popular shows among kids ages 2-17, the only truly suitable titles were "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition," "Deal or No Deal," "American Idol," "Dancing With the Stars," and "American Inventor."

Frankly, I pity the children whose most prominent TV influences are Paula Abdul, a parade of fame-and-money seekers, Howie Mandel, and Howie Mandel's soul patch. And I pity the adults who can share only reality series with their kids, pushing themselves to be enthusiastic about watching yet another tragedy healed by the wonders of carpentry, Corian , and handyman Ty Pennington .

Then again, rooting for Taylor Hicks or analyzing Mario Lopez's footwork alongside your kids is preferable to being clubbed by the moralistic lesson-learning and happy endings of fictional fare such as "7th Heaven." If scripted "family TV" is going to exist, and thrive, it probably won't look like "Touched by an Angel." Promoting a hyper-wholesome show like "7th Heaven" as the best of family TV doesn't leave much hope for those families that want to avoid sugar.

But there is hope in a number of recent prime time shows that have found a way to appeal to teens and their parents simultaneously, without insulting either group with sap or stupidity. While probably no series can stay interesting to both 4-year-olds and 40-year-olds, the likes of "Lost," "Friday Night Lights," "Ugly Betty," "Everybody Hates Chris," "Gilmore Girls," "My Name Is Earl," and, to some extent, "Heroes," have found a middle ground that speaks to a wide range of ages above, say, 13.

These are FCC-friendly shows that offer a degree of social relevance as they cross generations, and none of them carries a stuffy Sunday-morning aura of sanctimony. None of them are pat, or flat, even when they lightly strum the heartstrings. Are they rigorously devoid of all sexual innuendo or fantasy-tinged violence? No, and parents do need to be vigilant in order to enforce their own standards on their children, just as they would for a feature film such as "The Break Up," or "X-Men," or "Superman Returns."

"Heroes," for example, demands parental pre-consideration, especially for younger teens. This was the show that Spielberg spoke about to the Emmy board, saying he was particularly troubled when a body was torn in half during an episode of the 9 p.m. show. "Heroes," which is about ordinary people uneasily discovering they have superpowers, probably wouldn't bother a teen accustomed to comic-book-based films or video games, but it does land on the more adult side of the family-TV border.

It's a wonderful show about what it means to be a hero, and how heroism ultimately isn't about magical abilities; and it's a cool show, as people fly and read minds. But "Heroes" does have edgier moments.

"Lost" is a similarly offbeat show that invites viewers of differing ages to think and wonder and ask questions about the universe. It's the TV equivalent of a board game or a puzzle, and it's an opportunity for people to share personalized theories and approaches. Watching the series is only half of the "Lost" experience; the rest takes place in the hours of conversation and speculation about what's happening on the island -- or islands.

There is violence, including murder, torture, and child abduction. Parents need to protect kids who are particularly sensitive. But the violence on "Lost" takes place in the context of an adventure-fantasy, unlike a gritty crime show such as "CSI." It plays like a contemporary iteration of the novels of Robert Louis Stevenson.

Another cross-generational series, "My Name Is Earl," operates something like "The Simpsons," or the "Looney Tunes" of yesteryear. It's embedded with risque jokes that are likely to fly over the heads of its younger viewers, who nonetheless enjoy its buoyant and wily tone. As Earl tries to rectify his karma with the help of his simple brother, Randy, the sitcom almost begs for a bold comparison to the old stop-motion animated series "Davey and Goliath," particularly since Randy can sound like the dog Goliath ("But Daaayveee"). But the morality of "Earl" is far more twisty and light-hearted, and the show doesn't appear to have a narrow agenda regarding social politics.

Clearly, some parents will object to sharing these series with their kids. And cable has provided us with hundreds of very specifically defined channels -- Spike for dudes, Fox News for conservatives, Sci Fi for geeks -- so that a parent can send a child to Nickelodeon or Disney Channel or the Discovery Channel without worry.

These niche boundaries, along with parental control devices and supervision, provide the kind of guarantees that the networks no longer offer. In the mid-1970s, the FCC created a policy requiring the networks to create a family-viewing hour from 8-9 p.m. It quickly proved legally unenforceable, and the family hour has dwindled away over the decades.

The old-fashioned but realistic "Friday Night Lights" does seem to hark back to the family hour, though. The terrific NBC drama, which airs Tuesdays at 8 p.m., has struggled in the ratings since its October premiere, which may explain why the networks tend to stay away from such openly cross-generational material. Even those who like the idea of a safe hour in prime time may not be interested in watching it. Fortunately, NBC president Kevin Reilly has expressed a commitment to giving the show a chance.

"Friday Night Lights" has the kinds of story lines that parents can help their children to interpret, but can also enjoy themselves. About high-pressure high school football in Texas, the show is a sociological look at small-town life as much as it is a soap opera about kids with nowhere to go. It can be as rousing as "Rocky" and then as gothic as "The Last Picture Show." Its resolutions are satisfyingly poignant, and rarely tidy.

As somewhat conventional comedies, "Ugly Betty" and "Everybody Hates Chris" do generally end happily and affirmatively. But each of them is fueled by off-kilter humor that doesn't embarrass you with "awww" moments. And they easily provoke conversation about family life, money, and the relevance and irrelevance of cultural differences.

Watching the Latina heroine of "Ugly Betty" expose the superficiality at a glossy magazine is particularly amusing, since her nemeses are such queens of mean, notably Vanessa Williams's Wilhelmina. The writers have made Wilhelmina human with a dab of pathos about her loveless childhood, but still her comic nastiness is relentless and ripe ("Poor people are so . . . cheap," she noted in the Thanksgiving episode). Her material is never dulled with a Big Message.

Neither is "American Idol," which does qualify as a kind of family TV. One of the promotional beauties of the basic "American Idol" concept is its shrewd cross-generational approach. Young teeny-boppers singing the songs of previous generations? It grabs Mom, Dad, sis, and bro away from their lone computers for an hour of pretending they're a record company trying to choose a singer, or a music critic writing a review. Of course, "American Idol," like "Dancing With the Stars," will not expand anyone's inner world. It's TV for the family, though not particularly enriching TV.

But when it comes to TV for adults and their kids, not every show needs to be an educational tool. If something inspires good dialogue about life, death, wealth, poverty, spirituality, race, religion, and/or gender roles, that's great. But if something only inspires the opportunity to laugh together, well that's not so bad either.

Matthew Gilbert can be reached at gilbert@globe.com. For more on TV, visit boston.com/ae/tv/blog/.