"Rescue Me" A Fourth Time

(originally published on 6/13 at the now-defunct www.poweredbyshows.com)

Tonight, FX’s best show, one that along with The Shield has opened up new possibilities in non-premium cable television, returns for its fourth season. Rescue Me, created/written by and starring comedian Denis Leary, is one of the best shows on television, and its power is in how it rages against a post-9/11 world. In the cynical New York City inhabited by the firefighters that make up the cast, their lot in life has been thrust upon them--to bear the burden of their fallen comrades, and hope silently that they mean more than nothing. There is a sadness to this show in which Tommy Gavin (Leary) and his coworkers struggle though each day and its damning effect on their very souls, the bigoted, misogynist and racist anti-heroes at war with nobody but themselves. This is a New York of broken dreams, of failed marriages, of rampant alcoholism and family issues, and it’s not an easy show to watch.

The bright side of this (outside of seeing a stellar show and appreciating it) is the extremely bawdy humor of the program, one that makes it 10 times funnier than 90% of the sitcoms on television. In its own rough, ribald way, it’s the most laugh-out-loud show in a very long time. This works primarily because like the show’s themes, the humor comes from a very naturalistic place, one of ribbing your friends, of extreme sarcasm, of scathing nastiness. The show is not for everyone, that is true, and the TV-MA rating should not be taken lightly.

Rescue Me is a controversial show, most likely because of how certain viewers infer the show’s portrayal of women. Each hour of the series, we are given the female gender at their most cruel and uncaring, troubled and indecipherable, and even rather whorish. I feel this way sometimes while watching the show, but then I remind myself that the men are shown to be far worse beasts in the world of the show. Leary’s comedy (his 1992 Showtime special No Cure For Cancer especially) has always relied on self-deprecation and an unflinching look within, so why not bring that into the dramatic realm?

As of last season, Tommy has found that his estranged wife has been hooking up with his brother and may in fact be pregnant with his baby, but still demands rough sex from her husband which resulted in one of the most horrifying sequences of 2006. Tommy is, in karmic fashion for his cruel ways, drugged and raped by his deceased cousin’s widow (the victim happens to be one of many ghosts/hallucinations that haunt Tommy on a regular basis) without his remembering. By the end of the season, his cop brother is dead, he is still reeling over the vehicular manslaughter of his son at the end of season 2, and falling off of his Alcoholic’s Anonymous wagon, and he is forced into starting a new life with said widow. This is neglecting to mention any of the stories of his co-firefighters, who are going through issues of Alzheimer’s-ridden wives, stolen children, a money-grubbing liar of an escort and gay sons.

Oh, and Tommy finishes off the season drugged, once again by the widow, and left for dead in the burning waterfront house she bought for the both of them. How’s that for a cliffhanger?

Tonight it finally returns, the red-faced heavy-hitter of cable television. Don’t miss it.

Pop Art: Rescue Me

There it is--one of the best advertisements for TV I've ever seen. Managing to be both terrifying and absolutely heartwrenching, this image tells you everything you need to know about FX's hard-edged New York firefighter show. I came upon it while flipping through the pages of the admittedly soft journalist pop culture rag Entertainment Weekly, and immediately had the entirety of the previous three seasons flash before my eyes: the sadness of the post-9/11 world in which Tommy Gavin (Denis Leary) and his coworkers struggle though each day and its damning effect on their very souls, the bigoted, misogynist and racist anti-heroes at war with nobody but themselves.

It's the simplest publicity campaign so far for the show, which usually involves Tommy falling off a burning building in full firefighter gear, smirking at his fate, one that bears the burden for his fallen comrades. This is different. This is stripped down and raw, radiating rage and carnal energy. The monster inside all of us. At the end of the last season, he has just lost his brother, his family has all but abandoned him, and he has been drugged and left for dead by his deceased cousin's widow in a burning building, threatening to engulf everything he's worked for in order to start a new life. I'd look like that, too.

Absolutely powerful, FX.

The Lamented Death of Reilly

As you can see from the above picture, no, I'm not talking about the recent death of TV personality Charles Nelson Reilly, although I hold a very small place in my heart for the reruns of "Match Game" I happen to catch every now and then after midnight on GSN.

No, I'm talking about the recent ousting of Kevin Reilly as president of NBC entertainment. While I am not prone to discussing the revolving door that is network television chief status as much as I am about the shows and ratings themselves, I felt that upon reading this news today from zap2it.com that I had to address the situation. See, I really liked Reilly. I liked what he stood for and how he handled some truly dire matters about the network. When he came on board to the network, they were already in fourth place among the Big Four, and it was his job to solve this calamity. Unlike what you'd expect anyone in his position to do (more low-end reality shows and cop dramas) he took a different route.

One of the great quotes from him came from the beginning of the 2006-2007 season upon choosing some very high-risk, expensive and esoteric shows to fill out the new schedule. He proclaimed that NBC's new policy was to create great shows first, as opposed to predestined hits. He was, in a great deal of ways, about bringing quality television to the masses, having come from helping greatly in establishing FX as a network that took chances with complex and controversial shows, and seemed a good fit with the new network. Did it succeed? Not exactly. NBC is still fourth place, and some of his shows bit the dust real hard, but he has a wonderful quality about him: tenacity.

Sure, Steve MacPherson over at ABC has also championed some truly wonderful and underrated shows, but he never had the guts to stick with them, allowing such gems as "Sons & Daughters," "Invasion" and "What About Brian?" to go the way of the dinosaurs instead of allowing them to find their audience. Reilly was different. He brought us "My Name Is Earl" and "The Office," and lauded them through some so-so ratings which still hold up to this day. He treats them like comedy royalty, and the people are slowly starting to catch on. These aren't dumb comedies, and in a lot of ways they are truly special. Same goes for "30 Rock" and the continuing support for "Scrubs," which will now enter its seventh year of very low ratings.

I appreciate him most for the "30 Rock" save, allowing it to blossom into a great and uproarious show, and believing in its potential early on. Same goes for the renewal of "Friday Night Lights," the best new show of the season and perhaps one of the greatest TV shows I've ever seen that just happened to hemmhorage ratings each week. Great shows first, ratings later.

I will always rue the day that he decided to not renew "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," but I'm slowly understanding why it just couldn't exist in this modern television climate.

The world of television grew a little bit darker today. Quality will always peek through every once in a while at the Big Four, but it's going to be a hell of a lot harder.