Deadwood has become a self-parody at the very beginning of its second year, beating the previous record holder — 24 — by 4 episodes.

Someone apparently told David Milch, the show’s creator and writer, that he’s brilliant at dialogue because everyone now speaks like a lead character in a Shakespearean drama, except for the poetry, and half the time I don’t have any fucking idea what the fuck they’re fucking talking fucking about.

I find the show painful to watch and have only managed this far by thinking that maybe someone will remember that dialogue is supposed to: A. Express differentiated character, B. Advance narrative, C. Not be howlingly pretentious.

Meanwhile, Project Greenlight has become as delicious and difficult to watch as Curb Your Enthusiasm. The Office is better than I’d thought but isn’t as deliciously horrible as the British version because Steven Carrell hasn’t yet located the odious little man behind the odious outer man. Arrested Development I’m finding funny despite its determination to be whacky. Likewise for Scrubs.

Yes, I watch TV and I’m proud of it.

Categories: Uncategorized dw