In Which I Take the Bait

Darn you Joanna and your hunger for faith!

Look, "S60" is a flawed piece of work. I can’t deny that. If you try to reason your way into liking it, you will fail.

Watching the show, I just get a generally pleasing feeling that Aaron Sorkin and Thomas Schlamme are trying to be smart, relevant, ironic, heroic, and entertaining. Maybe I’m post-traumatic after having seen so very many TV writers underestimate American viewer intelligence; maybe I’m just a pretentious snoot-head. (I heard that.) But I want this ambitious series to get enough time from NBC to find its balance and realize its potential.

"S60" can be excessively sentimental, as was "The West Wing"; Amanda Peet can seem out of her league, as could Allison Janney early on; Bradley Whitford doesn’t get enough plot time (although he might be wise staying in the background after dominating the end of "WW"). The show’s crush of big issues – war, race, censorship – can be awkward. And of course the dialogue sometimes sounds robotic. Do you think the actors are directed to imitate a ticker tape, or is it just in the air on a Sorkin set?

But I loved the way Monday’s episode was so steeped in Hollywood legend – the blacklisted writer, the references to comedy’s early days, Tom showing his parents around the old theater. There were pieces of the whole in that hour that helped me feel comfortable with my belief in the promise of the show.

P.S. I agree; Peet should have known that Bill Parcells is a famous hockey coach.