Eddie Vedder on the West Coast//Pearl Jam on the East Coast

Tonight Eddie Vedder wraps up an “experiment” he’s been working on since April 1, his very first solo tour. The results, without question, have been tremendous. Reviews of this all-too-brief West Coast swing have been overwhelmingly positive, and many are downright glowing; after listening through the set from April 7 in Berkeley (thanks again Fuel/Friends!), I certainly understand why. I have particular pathos for Whitney Pastorek’s thoughts posted to Entertainment Weekly’s PopWatch blog, but I’d refer you to Brian Cohen's Billboard report for a more balanced account (his assessment of Ed’s political acumen is spot on).

Vedder’s solo work on last fall’s “Into the Wild” soundtrack is what spurred this jaunt, but those songs make up only a small portion of the rather overtly structured set he’s been playing.

***Side note about “Into the Wild”: In my review of the soundtrack, I mentioned how I wished several of the songs were more fleshed out and edited to fit the film. I was hoping maybe that would happen in a live setting, but no such luck: “Setting Forth” and “No Ceiling” remain tantalizingly brief. Also, I did like the movie very much—much more than I thought I’d ever enjoy anything having to do with Sean Penn. It still embraced the hippie vibe a little too heavily, but not to the extent I figured it would, and the story, on the whole, was quite balanced and fair (much more so than, say, a “documentary” by Michael Moore). I give it an “A-,” but it’s the type of movie that, if you hate it, I certainly wouldn’t try and convince you otherwise; I would understand why.***

Anyway, just about all of Vedder’s choices—be they Pearl Jam songs or covers—are so good it’s tough picking out moments to highlight, so I’ll choose one of each. Undoubtedly the most impressive and moving moment from the PJ catalog is Ed’s own “Arc” from 2002’s “Riot Act.” To accomplish this vocal feat, he sings a melodic phrase into a recorder, which then repeats that phrase as he layers more and more on top, until the entire auditorium is ringing with a chorus of no words, just his still-vibrant baritone. It’s breathtaking on a bootleg; can’t imagine what it’s like in person—I got goosebumps just from the reviews. The cover choice is much more difficult, as there are so many incredible options, but I’ll go with Ed’s gorgeous, extended take on James Taylor’s “Millworker” for showing off not only his continued vocal prowess, but his underrated guitar skills, as well. (My wife's pick would be The Beatles' "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away.")

And I’ll reserve a special honor for another cover, “Hard Sun” from “Into the Wild,” which at this point is more Ed’s song than the original author’s, anyway. Pastorek described it as “colossally triumphant,” and that’s right on. My utter love for this song STILL hasn’t diminished after all these months. It probably should have been my Song of the Year.

This brings me to Pearl Jam’s upcoming tour of the East Coast in June. It’s wishful thinking, of course, but I’m hopeful some of this solo-tour goodness carries over into the full-band experience. Vedder regularly offers a song or two by himself to open a night’s show, so maybe he’ll take this opportunity to do a little mini-“Into the Wild” pre-show set at each stop. And were he able to convince the band to play “Hard Sun” in full … well, that would just be the best thing ever, wouldn't it?

All this praise for Vedder & Co. is not to say everything is perfect in Pearl Jam-land, however. After my two shows in a couple months (woohoo!—see? I'm already excited) I’ll be too gushy to level much criticism, so I’ll mention now that recent events have me nervous as to PJ's future status as the most fan-friendly major band in the world, a title they’ve held unanimously since the beginning.

I have two complaints/concerns:

1. Vedder implemented a strict no-taping policy at his solo shows; some ingenious folks managed to slip in under the radar, of course, but any of their recordings that get posted online are quickly removed by the Ten Club (PJ’s fan organization). For a band who has gone out of its way to encourage taping and trading of its shows, I’m hoping this is just somehow tied into Ed’s “experimentation” vibe and not an official change in policy. It would diminish them in my eyes—quite a bit, actually.

2. Ticket prices for the brief summer tour are WAY up this time around: $15/ticket over the album tour from just two years ago and a whopping $25/ticket over 2003’s “Riot Act” tour. They’ve done a very good job at keeping prices relatively low for the bulk of their career, so this is extremely disappointing—I mean, we’re getting close to U2/Springsteen territory here. If this continues at the current rate, my days of multiple shows in one tour could be over, which is sad. Greedy, I know, but sad. And it speaks to a larger issue of credibility: How can Vedder write an album (“Into the Wild”) about shedding society’s consumer-mentality shackles and then turn around and jack up his ticket prices? And it’s not just PJ—his solo shows priced out at more than $60 apiece, and that’s BEFORE TicketBastard gets its hands around your throat. It’s troubling.

The Funniest Blog, well, Ever

Go read Stuff White People Like.

Right now. You won't be able to stop.

I particularly like this one on Whole Foods, this one on poor people, and, of course, this one on my boy, Barack Obama.

(Thanks again, Fuel/Friends)

Wilco: Live in D.C. (sorta)

So at this very moment I'm listening to Nels Cline absolutely shred his solo for "Impossible Germany," thanks to NPR's live webcast of tonight's Wilco show at the 9:30 Club.

This is a bittersweet moment. It's awesome to hear this show unfold in real time, as the band sounds incredible (major kudos for going back and filling in the gaps with basically ALL the older material). But it's pretty painful to know one of my favorite bands is playing only a few miles from my house and I'm sitting at my computer because the tix sold out before I even knew this concert existed.

Oh, man. "It's Just That Simple." They're going waaaay back (what I would've given to be at those five Chicago shows from last week, where all this stuff reawakened—if you'd like to hear one, go here). Wow, they sound great.

Tweedy: "We looked at a bunch of old setlists from D.C. and tried to play a bunch of songs we've never played here before."

Go ahead, keep twistin' that knife.

"Someday Soon." Indeed, please come back soon. I'll be ready next time, I promise.

UPDATE
11:16 p.m.
"Casino Queen"

Yeah, good job outta me missing this show.

Well, Then Allow Me to Retort: My 100, er, 125 Favorite Songs of the ’90s

Two months ago, my boy Tobin posted his “Top 100 Songs of the 90s,” in response to VH-1’s similar list (which he justifiably despised). His work inspired me to come up with my own reckoning, represented here.

My list is nowhere near as good as Tob’s, because 1) I couldn’t cut down to only 100 (200 probably would have been better!), and 2) I didn’t have the guts to rank them like he did. (If you're curious—and I can't imagine you would be, but anyway—we only overlapped on 12 songs.) What made this chart particularly difficult was deciding whether or not a particular song was still worthy of inclusion; there are tons of songs/bands I used to love (311, Third Eye Blind, Metallica, and Hootie & the Blowfish, just to name a few) that aren’t represented on this list because I really don’t listen to them anymore, so their songs have fallen out of favor. Other bands who had great songs in the ’90s didn’t cross my radar until this decade (Wilco, PJ Harvey, Bruce Springsteen). And still other bands had songs I haven’t listened to in years but, when I popped them back in the CD player, still held up (Bush, Live, and The Mighty Mighty Bosstones apply to this category, among many others).

In other words, this list would have looked vastly different had I compiled it on Dec. 31, 1999. But as it stands now, here are 125 songs from the ’90s that still mean something to me—past, present, and, maybe, the future:

1. A Shot in the Arm, Wilco

2. Alive, Pearl Jam—Has gotten even better with age

3. All Along the Watchtower, Dave Matthews Band via Bob Dylan

4. Angel, Pearl Jam—Back when the Christmas singles were still awesome; pity the whole Dave A. thing means this little gem will never be played live again

5. Ava Adore, The Smashing Pumpkins—Even more powerful when performed live with Jimmy
Chamberlin on drums

6. Bed of Roses, Bon Jovi—There’s a lot wrong with this band, but I love this song

7. Better Days, Bruce Springsteen—A highlight during a rather low period of his career

8. Betterman, Pearl Jam—Best PJ concert singalong

9. Bittersweet Symphony, The Verve—Ah, “Cruel Intentions”

10. Breath, Pearl Jam—Unlike “Leash,” there’s more to this song than just not being played live in a long time

11. Breed, Nirvana

12. C’mon Billy, PJ Harvey

13. Cannonball, The Breeders—Sad that I knew who the Breeders were before I knew the Pixies

14. Casino Queen, Wilco—The first Wilco song I fell in love with; there were many more to follow

15. Chloe Dancer/Crown of Thorns, Mother Love Bone

16. Clubbed to Death (Kurayamino Mix), Rob D—“The Matrix” is a special movie to me in more ways than one

17. Comedown, Bush—I know they got crushed by critics, but they put on a great live show

18. Corduroy, Pearl Jam—This song was played so much on the radio it wore out on me quickly, but I’ve come to love it once again

19. Crush, Dave Matthews Band—Several songs on this list hold specific sentimental value; this is one of them

20. Dancing Nancies, Dave Matthews Band

21. The Day I Tried to Live, Soundgarden—I’m surprised this CD still works, I played it so much in high school

22. The Distance, Cake

23. Do the Evolution, Pearl Jam—At one point my no-questions-asked favorite PJ song; now I’m not sure which one is

24. Down By the Water, PJ Harvey

25. Drown, The Smashing Pumpkins

26. Dry the Rain, The Beta Band—I will now sell three copies of The Beta Band …

27. Dyslexic Heart, Paul Westerberg

28. Even Better Than the Real Thing, U2

29. Fell on Black Days, Soundgarden

30. Fireworks, The Tragically Hip

31. Freak on a Leash, Korn

32. Free Girl Now, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

33. Gel, Collective Soul

34. Gift Shop, The Tragically Hip

35. Given to Fly, Pearl Jam—I can remember where I was the first time I heard this song; one-third of the “Yield” trifecta of perfection

36. Gone, U2—For some reason I love several songs with this title, but this is the best one

37. Granny, Dave Matthews Band—My favorite DMB song

38. Greedy Fly, Bush

39. Guerilla Radio, Rage Against the Machine

40. Gun, Uncle Tupelo

41. Hard to Imagine, Pearl Jam

42. Hell of a Hat, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones

43. Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me, U2—The first U2 song I ever loved; still one of my top-10 faves

44. High, Jimmie’s Chicken Shack—I haven’t listened to this song in nearly a decade because … my roommate borrowed this CD and loved it so much, he never gave it back!

45. Highway 61 Revisited, PJ Harvey via Bob Dylan

46. Hunger Strike, Temple of the Dog—Hello, Matt Cameron, we’ll be seeing you again in about eight years

47. I Am a Patriot, Eddie Vedder via Steve van Zandt—One of my first “What? You can download live music on the Internet?!?” songs

48. I Got You (At the End of the Century)—One-third of the “Being There” trifecta of uptempo, rockin’ out perfection

49. I’ll Stick Around, Foo Fighters—One of the best drum intros ever

50. If I Should Fall Behind, Bruce Springsteen—This song played at my wedding

51. Immortality, Pearl Jam—I still have no clue what this song is about

52. The Impression That I Get, The Mighty Mighty Bosstones—Released just before high school graduation, it will always bring back memories of that time, both good and bad (but mostly good)

53. In Hiding, Pearl Jam—One of Stone Gossard’s best riffs, and he’s had a bunch

54. Indifference, Pearl Jam—I am apparently one of the few Pearl Jam fans who doesn’t like “Vs.” all that much (on a PJ-relative scale, of course)

55. It’s Good to Be King, Tom Petty—This song kills in concert

56. Jenny Says, Cowboy Mouth—Great hook, meant to be played at maximum volume

57. Jimi Thing, Dave Matthews Band—I’ve never smoked pot, but I still love this song

58. Joining You, Alanis Morissette

59. Jump Right In, The Urge

60. Killing in the Name, Rage Against the Machine—This track holds a special place in my heart for a very specific reason: In college I had a sorta feud with a professor; one day he brought his class over to the grassy area outside my dorm, so we put the speakers in the window and cranked this sucker up as loud as we could. The chorus (yeah, you know how it goes …) was rather appropriate for the situation. He didn’t leave (then), but it made me feel better.

61. Lakini’s Juice, Live—I managed to see their set at the ’98 Tibetan Freedom Concert before the lightning struck and ruined everything

62. Landslide, The Smashing Pumpkins via Stevie Nicks

63. Long Road, Pearl Jam—First PJ song I ever heard in person

64. Lounge Fly, Stone Temple Pilots—Hard to pick favorites off this album, one of my all-time faves

65. Lover Lay Down, Dave Matthews Band

66. The Man Who Sold the World, Nirvana via David Bowie—I was anti-Nirvana for the longest time … then I finally came around, largely because of this album (and this song)

67. Mayonaise, The Smashing Pumpkins

68. Monday, Wilco

69. Murder Incorporated, Bruce Springsteen

70. Muzzle, The Smashing Pumpkins—All-time favorite Pumpkins song

71. No Excuses, Alice in Chains

72. No Way Out, Stone Temple Pilots—I don’t like Velvet Revolver

73. Not For You, Pearl Jam—I was obsessed with this song for a period of time

74. Nugget, Cake—One of the best repeated uses of the f-word you’ll ever hear

75. O Stella, PJ Harvey—What a stunning debut album

76. Off He Goes, Pearl Jam—One of the few PJ tracks that’s better on the CD than in concert

77. One, U2—It’s too bad this has been turned into a fund-raiser

78. One Sweet World, Dave Matthews Band

79. One Time Too Many, PJ Harvey—First of her songs I ever heard

80. Outtasite (Outta Mind), Wilco

81. Pennyroyal Tea, Nirvana

82. Please, U2—One of the band’s most beautiful songs, and that’s saying something

83. Porch, Pearl Jam—I turned into a complete moron the first time I heard this live (they didn’t play it that much at the time, okay?)

84. Present Tense, Pearl Jam—I’ve always wished they’d carried the jam section out a bit longer

85. Red Right Hand, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds—This is all wrapped up in my love for “The X-Files”

86. Release, Pearl Jam—One of Eddie’s best moments on every level

87. Right Place, Wrong Time, The Screamin’ Cheetah Wheelies—This one’s for you, Nate!

88. River of Deceit, Mad Season

89. Rock Is Dead, Marilyn Manson

90. Room at the Top, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

91. Rooster, Alice in Chains—Another fabulous Unplugged session; with all the crap that’s on MTV, why can’t they bring that show back with regularity?

92. Rusty Cage, Johnny Cash via Soundgarden

93. Sabotage, Beastie Boys—Perfection

94. Scar Tissue, Red Hot Chili Peppers—Summer ’99 was one of the best times of my life

95. She’s a Jar, Wilco

96. Shit Towne, Live

97. Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite, R.E.M.

98. Sleep to Dream, Fiona Apple—Where is she, by the way?

99. Song 2, Blur—Woohoo! You’ve heard it a million times, but you know you still love it

100. The Song That Jane Likes, Dave Matthews Band—They were so great … for a little while

101. Sonic Reducer, Pearl Jam via Dead Boys—Even after who knows how many listens, still gets my blood racing

102. Spin the Black Circle, Pearl Jam—This was the first cut off “Vitalogy” I played for a friend right after it came out and he said: “I am buying this!”

103. St. Joe and the School Bus, Marcy Playground—I listened to this CD again not too long ago and, you know what, it’s not too bad

104. Stop Breaking Down, The White Stripes—The hipsters still prefer this original, ultra-raw version of the band; I do not

105. Super Bon Bon, Soul Coughing

106. Timeless Melody, The La’s

107. To Bring You My Love, PJ Harvey—Ferocious

108. Trippin’ on a Hole in a Paper Heart, Stone Temple Pilots—This song is pretty tough on “Guitar Hero”

109. Unglued, Stone Temple Pilots

110. Until the End of the World, U2—On a given day, this could be my favorite U2 song

111. Via Chicago, Wilco—A must-play any time I fly home through O’Hare; I know that’s cheesy, but I don’t care

112. Victory, PJ Harvey

113. Waiting for Somebody, Paul Westerberg

114. Wake Up, Rage Against the Machine—Fly, Neo, Fly! And never come back in any sequels! Please!!!

115. The Wanderer, U2 feat. Johnny Cash

116. Wash, Pearl Jam—I bought “Ten” again in Italy just for this song

117. Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key, Billy Bragg & Wilco via Woodie Guthrie—Fabulous backing vocals from Natalie Merchant; she should probably be on this list somewhere else, too …

118. We’ve Been Had, Uncle Tupelo

119. When I Come Around, Green Day—They had a ton of great songs in the ’90s, but I was never a huge fan

120. Where Is My Mind?, The Pixies—Ah, “Fight Club”

121. Where the River Flows, Collective Soul

122. White, Discussion, Live—I hadn’t listened to this album in yeeeeears, and had forgotten how good it is

123. You Wreck Me, Tom Petty

124. Youngstown, Bruce Springsteen—The live version is stunning

125. Zooropa, U2—Otherwise known as my William Gibson/Senior Year of College soundtrack


And, yes, if you’ve read this far you realize there were a lot of Pearl Jam songs in there. Shocker, I know, but I still cut some that hurt (“In My Tree,” especially). Based on number of songs on this list, here are my top 5 bands of the decade:

Pearl Jam (21)
Dave Matthews Band (8)
U2 (8)
PJ Harvey (7)
Wilco (7)

Crossroads, Indeed: Robert Plant & Alison Krauss, Live (on TV)

Robert Plant was absolutely right to screw the Led Zeppelin reunion in favor of touring with new musical partner Alison Krauss. This is the show to see this summer (tour dates are here and here, and tix go on sale soon). This is here, this is now, this is fresh, this is exciting, this is challenging, this is progressive. This is moving forward, not looking back.

Earlier this month CMT aired Plant and Krauss’ episode of “Crossroads,” and it is a thing to behold. The show features several cuts off the duo’s 2007 collaboration, “Raising Sand,” but also includes versions of the singers’ own tunes—performed by their counterpart. Plant’s solo take on “The Boy Who Wouldn’t Hoe Corn” is stirring, but it’s Krauss who will drive the breath from your lungs with her achingly gorgeous performance of “When the Levee Breaks,” violin solo included. And then the two combine to conquer Zeppelin’s “Black Dog,” which starts out quietly with a banjo, then simmers to an overflowing boil by the end as the rest of the band kicks in to surround and support the two vocalists.

Certainly not to be outdone, however, are the choice cuts from “Raising Sand.” Lead single “Gone Gone Gone (Done Moved On)” kicks the show off on the right foot, while “Rich Woman” shuffles along with even more power than on CD. Plant’s “Please Read the Letter,” my favorite track on the album, is a showstopper.

Sprinkled in between the songs are clips of Plant and Krauss sitting around a table talking about the project, and their discussion provides insight into not only the recording of the album, but themselves, as well. They relate how producer T. Bone Burnett challenged each of them to break down their own boundaries. For Plant, that meant restraining his trademark “masculine” bravado and finding out where he fit in this new style of song; for Krauss, it meant matching Plant’s intensity and singing songs from a narrative male perspective.

The dynamics between the duo onstage are fascinating to watch, too, as this taping had to be one of the first times (if not the very first) the two had performed these songs in front of an audience. I don’t know if the cuts were revealed on the show in the order they were played live, but it sure seemed like Krauss warmed up and got more comfortable with the whole thing as the night wore on; Plant, meanwhile, seemed like he was doing his very best to contain his natural lionine stage persona so as not to overwhelm the whole process. The tension serves both of them well.

And the music. Wow, as is typically the case with great performers, it’s even better in the moment than it is on the CD. The band (and especially Plant) cuts loose a bit more and gives the songs a bit more heft, more straightforward power (I’m thinking specifically here of “Rich Woman”). I look forward to hearing “Nothin’” this summer, as it is the heaviest track on the album and should simply explode live on stage.

So of course I’m recommending you watch “Crossroads” and check out the tour if it comes your way. But more than anything, if you haven’t heard “Raising Sand” yet, you’re doing yourself a great disservice. “Crossroads” just confirms what I’m starting to realize: This is one of my favorite albums of all time.


UPDATE: For some reason, this is one of the most popular posts on the site and people are landing here from all over. First off, welcome, and thanks for reading. Second, if you're interested in my thoughts on actually seeing Plant and Krauss in person, you can read them here.

Who'da Dunk It?

Tonight, a legend was born, and his name is Dwight "Superman" Howard.

What the 6-11 Orlando Magic center did in the 2008 NBA slam dunk contest will be talked about for as long as the National Basketball Association continues to exist. It was the best series of dunks I've ever seen. At least as good as Michael Jordan in 1988. Better than Vince Carter in 2000. Better than … everybody else. Any other player would have won the whole thing pulling off just one of his throwdowns, and Howard gave us four masterpieces back-to-back-to-back-to-back.

And it wasn't just about Howard's size. It's amazing enough to see a 265-pound behemoth fly through the air and ram the ball home, but Howard completed his attempts with a style, grace, and sense of the moment that equaled Jordan. Like Jordan, Howard not only did things we've never seen before, but things we'd previously thought no human was capable of. Throwing down a blind, left-handed jam from behind the backboard? Seeming to defy gravity and hanging in the air for a windmill slam—after plucking the ball off a stationary perch on the board? Tipping the ball to himself off the glass after leaving his feet? Donning a freaking Superman cape and then taking off from the foul line?!?! It was the kind of thrilling exhibition I wished would just keep going until Howard couldn't leap anymore. I hope he defends his title for the next decade because, watching tonight, it felt like he has a whole bag full of tricks left. He just made it look so easy.

It would be rash to predict that this one performance will change the course of basketball like MJ did back in '88. But one thing's for sure: Howard's name is now emblazoned on the game in a way few others' are. He is now synonymous with the slam dunk contest, and he will never be the same.

If Jordan made us believe a man could fly, Howard tonight made us believe giants can, too.

I Have Seen the Future of Sports on TV …

… and its name is NHL hockey in high-definition. More specifically, Alex Ovechkin in HD.

For reasons I still don’t quite understand, I was a passionate hockey fan as a child. I followed the Caps on a game-by-game basis, even though they were only slightly better than mediocre and always seemed to lose to the Penguins in the playoffs. My favorite player back then was powerful defenseman Dino Cicarelli, who owned one of the hottest slapshots in the entire league.

I also don’t know when my passion for hockey faded, but by the time I left home for college, I could care less. And why should I? By that time the National Hockey League was beginning a long downward spiral that eventually led to contentious labor negotiations and the cancellation of the 2004-05 season. The NHL was left for dead.

HDTV may just be its defibrillator.

Hockey has always been known for its thrilling in-person experience, but the energy, speed, and violence never quite translated to television—until now. Believe me when I tell you the game looks completely different in high-def. It’s a revelation. Under the old broadcasting system, the camera zoomed all over the rink in an attempt to keep up with the puck, a narrow focus that oftentimes left hardly any players in view; with HD’s significantly wider camera angle, the entire zone (from the blue line to the goal) is in the picture at all times, and you can actually see the plays develop. You can see a brawny defenseman line up a bone-jarring hit from the other side of the rink. You can see a wily winger move into an empty hole and wait for a perfect pass.

Which brings me to one Alex Ovechkin.

Ovechkin is the Capitals’ 22-year-old Russian phenom. A left winger, Alex the Great (to pick one of about a dozen nicknames), leads the NHL in goals (42), points (70), and power play goals (16). Last night against Montreal, he scored 4 goals, including the game-winner in overtime (he also assisted on the team’s other goal).

He is, quite simply, Michael Jordan on ice skates. And anyone who knows me should also know I don’t make that comparison lightly. Like Jordan, Ovechkin makes every other player around him look slower, less coordinated, … dimmer. Like Jordan, Ovechkin seems to be able to enforce his will on his competition, and seemingly with ease. Like Jordan, Ovechkin is magnetic to watch, and you expect him to do something spectacular on every shift—he seems to make plays on a regular basis most other players could only dream of accomplishing once in their careers. The intensity of the game picks up when he jumps on the ice, and he puts incredible pressure on opposing goalies.

And, perhaps most important, like Jordan Ovechkin may have found his own Scottie Pippen in center Nicklas Backstrom, a rookie from Sweden who is helping to take Ovechkin’s game to a new level. Since he moved to Ovechkin’s line, Washington’s been on a tear; the Caps won nine games in January, the first time the team’s earned that many victories in a month in decades. The Caps’ scoring is through the roof, sparked by the dynamic duo’s aggressive play. They are pure joy to watch.

I certainly have no idea if the NHL will ever regain even a semblance of its previous popularity. What I certainly do know is that watching Alex Ovechkin play in high-def is downright intoxicating. If you don’t believe me, check out the video below. Then imagine that looking about a million times better.



Can you say Bulls vs. Lakers, circa 1991? Yeah, you know the play.

If anything can save this league, it’s No. 8 in full, glorious HD.

I’ve Been Watching a Lot of DVDs Lately …

… what with the writers’ strike and all. I’m surprised to realize I haven’t missed TV at all, but then again it’s only January. We don’t typically get a lot of new material until February, anyway, so thus far the hiatus feels rather normal. A few more months of this could get really old, especially if we only get eight episodes of “Lost” instead of the originally scheduled 16.

The strike has allowed me to catch up on some movies, at least, so here’s a roundup of what’s been in my DVD player recently:

“The Game Plan”
I absolutely loved Dwayne Johnson when he was layin’ the smack down in the WWE as The Rock—he’s my favorite (and best) professional wrestler of all time. All that goodwill and Johnson’s natural charisma are the only things that got me through this clunker. There are a few funny scenes, but overall it’s as painful as a quarterback sack. I cannot believe it took three people to write this. It’s like “Three Men and a Baby” with about 3 percent of the laughs.
Grade: C-
(If you want a movie from the same genre that gets everything right, I recommend “Enchanted,” especially for a glowing performance from Amy Adams that will leave you smiling long after the credits roll.)

“Hellboy”
Finally got around to seeing what has been called one of the best comic book adaptations of all time. I certainly wouldn’t agree with that assessment, but it’s an enjoyable ride for the most part. Ron Perlman is amazing as the big red title character, but writer/director Guillermo del Toro loses his way in the oversized final act; “Hellboy” gets away from the wit and sarcasm it does best while trying to wrap up the nearly incomprehensible plot.
Grade: B

“Knocked Up”
The rare movie that lives up to the hype. Basically a pitch-perfect comedy, but too many raunchy elements to recommend to any and all. Still, Katherine Heigl made a fan out of me, and writer/director Judd Apatow manages to deliver a heartfelt message (and even somewhat wholesome, from a certain point of view) without succumbing to cliché.
Grade: A-

“Pan’s Labyrinth”
Once again, Guillermo del Toro doesn’t quite live up to the hype. One of the best reviewed movies of 2006 didn’t bowl me over the way I was expecting (I remember hearing phrases bandied about like “a reimagining of the fairy tale” or some such thing). “Labyrinth” is really good, but it didn’t leave me pinned to my seat or even that emotionally engaged. A nice story, to be sure, and well done, just not the monumental experience I was hoping for. Perhaps that’s not del Toro’s fault, but such are the times.
Grade: B+

“Reign Over Me”
An interesting premise makes for a better trailer than an actual movie in this case. Don Cheadle and especially Adam Sandler make much more out of their roles than what’s on the page in a wandering and over-sentimental script. Sandler gives his best performance since “Punch-Drunk Love,” but his good work goes to waste by the time we enter one of the worst courtroom scenes you’re likely to see. Throw in some pat personal revelations for Cheadle’s character and a failed attempt at import via a forced impassioned soundtrack, and “Reign Over Me” comes up feeling more scattershot than Sandler’s character.
Grade: C+

“Superbad”
Knockdown hysterical for the first half-hour or so, but this one wore out its welcome pretty fast. Jonah Hill maintains only the same squealing pitch throughout, and he begins to grate soon after the convenience store gets robbed. And it just so happens that scene ushers in Seth Rogen and Bill Hader as two bumbling police officers who also have way too much screen time. Thank goodness for Michael Cera.
Grade: B-

“Waitress”
Quirky, funny, and generally heartwarming, with great performances all around, especially from Andy Griffith in an Oscar-worthy turn as a curmudgeon with a soft heart. The only thing that kept me from loving this movie is the fact that it centers around two otherwise lovable characters engaging in an extra-marital affair; it’s hard to root for adultery. Overall, though, “Waitress” was the first in a trilogy of excellent I’m-keeping-the-baby movies in 2007.
Grade: A-

My 11 Most Memorable Films of 2007

So the Academy Award nominations are out and … oh, sorry, must have nodded off there for a second. It’s the same story Oscar’s been telling us for the past several years: Four movies of dark, depressing material with one light-hearted affair thrown in for color. I find it all very boring, and have for quite some time. It wasn’t always like this, so I’m working on a theory that the past few years are a reaction to “Return of the King” winning it all in 2004, or somehow this is about the Bush administration, as most everything else in Hollywood seems to be.

Either way, I won’t be watching the show next month (in whatever form it takes), even though I do actually have a horse in this race for a change. But more on that film in a moment. Here are, in order, the 11 films that made the biggest impact on me in 2007:



1. 300
This was without a doubt the most surprising and memorable movie experience of the year for me. I wasn’t expecting much when I sat down in the theater—I thought the trailers looked kinda dumb—but I walked out two hours later with a feeling I hadn’t had since “The Matrix” back in 1999: Like I had just watched something truly original, something destined to change the face of filmmaking for years to come (for better or worse).

With “300,” director Zack Snyder finally achieved what so many before have tried but couldn’t get quite right: Translating a graphic novel into a film in as literal a way as possible (no, I wasn’t a huge fan of “Sin City”). Of course, it helps that Gerard Butler anchored the whole thing with his star-is-born turn as Spartan King Leonidas; Butler (and the rest of the cast, for that matter) took the material so seriously and treated it with such respect, it turned what could have been simply ridiculous amounts of blood and bravado into a work of art. Snyder, Butler & Co. gave “300” the heart and soul it needed to become more than just a flick for teenage boys, with its themes of love, honor, loyalty, bravery, conviction, betrayal, and corruption.

Like “The Matrix,” “300” is a watershed film that will be remembered, celebrated, maligned, and, unfortunately, imitated for years to come. Truly remarkable stuff.



2. Juno
What a joyous movie. I love it so much, I feel like I should just make a list of my top 25 favorite things about it—but that would get tedious, so I’ll settle for just a few. I loved how we get to know every character just like if we’d met them in real life: We’re presented with a superficial first impression, then discover the real person behind that façade as time goes on. I loved how a baby’s life was treasured in this film, not glossed over, dismissed, or discarded. And I absolutely adored Jennifer Garner’s performance as a mother-in-waiting; it would have been so easy for her to slip into cheesiness, but instead she embodied heartfelt sincerity, reminding me of why so many of us fell in love with her way back at the beginning of “Alias.”

“Juno” will make you laugh and make you cry. It will destroy your faith in humanity, then redeem it. It is the movie you love all the more every time you reflect on it. It is the best movie of 2007.



3. Immagine in Cornice
Pearl Jam’s latest video release offers an all-access vantage point never before seen in the group’s previous live DVDs. As someone who has obsessively followed the band’s setlists for a decade, the glimpses of Eddie Vedder & Co. crafting each night’s show as they toured Italy gave me goosebumps (as did many, many other moments). “Immagine” is certainly the best looking of PJ’s five video documents, and it does a perfect job of demonstrating the commitment to each and every concert that makes Pearl Jam the standard-bearers for live rock and roll, even after 15 years together. If anyone were to ask me why I continue to love this band, I give you “Immagine in Cornice” as an answer.



4. The Bourne Ultimatum
If ever an action film and its star should have been nominated for an Academy Award, this is the, er, ultimate example. Matt Damon has redefined the genre with his down-to-earth portrayal of Jason Bourne, leaving 007 to follow meekly in his wake.



5. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
The Potter films tend to get short shrift because a) the books are so good, and b) critics frown on franchises in general. But the past three entries in this film franchise have been downright excellent, with “Phoenix” the best of the bunch. This movie is veritably overflowing with wonderful performances from the likes of Gary Oldman, Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, and a should-have-been-Oscar-worthy tour de force by Imelda Staunton. And let’s not forget Daniel Radcliffe, who really came into his own this time around as The Boy Who Lived is growing up into a man. With millions upon millions of fans literally critiquing his every move, he holds his own remarkably well, as does this fifth installment in the series.



6. Rescue Dawn
Christian Bale takes method acting to the brink in this gripping and, ultimately, uplifting tale of a Vietnam-era P.O.W. Providing two of the most intense hours I spent all year, Bale disappears into his role in a way few Hollywood actors can; his performance is so genuine and outstanding, and yet not showy in a way that would have overwhelmed the film. Writer/director Werner Herzog delivers a throwback gem that has the guts to celebrate the true spirit of America and its military with a deft hand that avoids any fake patriotic jingoism.



7. Ratatouille
Brad Bird delivered another winner with this delicious film for adults packaged as a kids’ movie. Pixar continues to astound.



8. American Gangster
Call it “Departed” fatigue. That’s my theory on why this spectacular—and superior—mob flick didn’t get more critical praise this fall (same phenomenon happened with “Ray” and “Walk the Line,” if you recall). A cross between “Heat” and “Scarface,” Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe both deliver Oscar-worthy performances as director Ridley Scott gives them room to breathe deeply and fully explore their characters.



9. 3:10 to Yuma
Christian Bale and Russell Crowe light up the screen with both their guns and their grit in this excellent Western remake.



10. Once
For lovers of music and star-crossed romances alike, “Once” was also painfully overlooked by the Academy. It’s not on an “Almost Famous” level, but it’s not trying to be, either. I didn’t hear much about it when it was released among the summer blockbuster titans, but it’s an absolute gem that provides a beautiful demonstration of the power of music to help people connect.



11. Zodiac
A poorly marketed crime drama that proves director David Fincher hasn’t lost a step, despite an unusual five-year span between films. Even at over 2.5 hours, time seems to fly as we follow the trail of the Zodiac killer along with a gaggle of investigators led by a brilliantly dour Mark Ruffalo. Though it doesn’t come to a resolution, Fincher and screenwriter James Vanderbilt nevertheless draw the film to a satisfying close—too bad the Coens didn’t follow suit.


One Final Note …
I just thought I’d mention how great 2007 was for movies. In the past few years I’ve had trouble coming up with even 10 films to list as “best” or “favorites,” and this year I included 11 and could have picked a couple more (“The Simpsons Movie” was excellent, and certainly one of the biggest Oscar snubs of recent memory for its lack of a nod in the animation category). I had an especially enjoyable summer at the movies, which hadn’t occurred in a while, either. Here’s hoping 2008 brings more of the same.

Standing in the Footprints of Giants: An Afternoon at Sun Studio

The photo above is from the inside cover of U2's "Rattle and Hum" CD, a project that saw the Irish quartet tour the United States in search of the roots of rock and roll. This photo was taken as the band recorded in the legendary Sun Studio in Memphis, Tennessee, considered the birthplace of rock. Sam Phillips' one-room studio gave rise to Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, B.B. King, and so, so many more.

So take one more look at the U2 photo, and then check out the one below:


Look familiar? It should, because I took it yesterday standing inside Sun from about the same perspective. Yes, that is the very same drum kit played by one Larry Mullen Jr. on "When Love Comes to Town," "Angel of Harlem," and "Love Rescue Me." (I apologize for the quality—I took all the photos you'll see in this post via my cellphone.)

Technically, I was in Memphis this weekend working on a story about Elvis' Graceland. Thankfully I wrapped up early enough Monday to swing over to Sun Studio and take the tour. It was, without doubt, one of the best experiences of my pop-cultural life.


This is the exterior of Sun. It's on the corner of a rather rundown section of Memphis, several blocks from Beale Street and the heart of the city. This shot may look familiar if you've seen the Cash biopic "Walk the Line." Unfortunately, the exterior featured in the movie was a replica; no scenes were shot at the actual recording studio.

The guy who gave the tour is a local musician who's served as an engineer at Sun for the past six years. The studio is still active and busy most nights (sessions start at 6:30 p.m.) A room above the studio that used to serve as a boarding house (Cash, Lewis, etc., all would stay there some nights during sessions) has been transformed into a mini-museum, allowing the guide to tell the story of Sun. It's OK, but the real stuff starts when you walk back downstairs into the studio itself.


Here's another shot of the studio, standing right in front of the drums I showed earlier. That's the tour guide on the left. And if you look carefully, there's an "X" on the floor straight ahead. That is the exact spot where Elvis stood when recording one of his songs; the guide said people kiss that piece of floor all the time, including Bob Dylan.

The absolute best part about Sun is that it's still a working studio, and so it gets used all the time. Unlike most historical sites—like Graceland, for instance—there are no velvet ropes separating visitors from the good stuff. They just let you wander around the room, poking at whatever you want (yes, I tapped on the drums). It makes the entire experience feel so real, so genuine. Here's another example:


I'm pretty sure the guide said the microphone in the foreground of this shot is the same one in the picture behind it. Regardless, the mic was definitely used by the King during sessions at Sun, and they just leave it hanging around in the studio for anyone who wants to touch it, lick it, fondle it … "You don't want to know what's been done to that thing," the guide told me, "and we don't clean it."

It was only me and one other guy taking the tour Monday afternoon, so our guide just let us hang out in there for about a half-hour, much longer than we would have been able to otherwise. He told us story after story, some he'd seen personally others he knew by legend. He said he's worked with more "famous" bands than he can remember, people who, like U2, want to record at Sun just for the inspiration. He said it's not uncommon for people to get nervous, queasy, and even vomit as they start their sessions; imagine sidling up to a mic and then glancing over at the photo of Elvis doing the same thing, or looking down at the floor and seeing that "X"—no pressure.

One of the best parts for me occurred when the guide played Cash's "Walk the Line" and U2's "Angel of Harlem," and knowing those cuts were recorded right where I was standing—I'll never listen to those tracks the same way again. I'll certainly never watch "Rattle and Hum" the same way, either. Cue up "Angel of Harlem" on the DVD if you want a better look at the inside of the studio; I came home and watched that scene again tonight, and it gave me another thrill. Yep, there's Larry, pounding away on that very same kit, and there's Bono, standing right on top of Elvis' "X."

There are several other photos donning the walls of Sun Studio, never to be touched. Here's one of Cash exactly where it was some two decades ago when "Rattle and Hum" was filmed; you can see it over The Edge's shoulder during "Angel of Harlem" on the DVD:


And here's one of Bono taken during the Sun session, now hanging over in the corner near the drums:


The whole experience at Sun Studio was just so anti- every other historical tour I've experienced. So refreshing. So unpretentious. So laid back. So … rock and roll.

‘Confessor’

Terry Goodkind’s “Confessor” accomplishes the rarest of feats in any narrative medium. As the 11th volume in his renowned Sword of Truth series of novels, this final installment not only brings the story to a satisfying close, it manages to exceed all reasonable expectations.

In preparation for the highly anticipated “Confessor,” I reread “Phantom,” the preceding novel in the series; I probably should have gone back to No. 1, too. One of the most amazing aspects of “Confessor” is the way Goodkind revisits and resolves elements that track all the way back through his world to “Wizard’s First Rule,” first published way back in 1994. I don’t know for sure if Goodkind knew his endpoint when he began this saga or if he just flowed and worked it out as he went; either way, the author’s ability to weave multiple plotlines together in “Confessor” without their connections coming off as forced is stunning. And what a spectacularly gratifying experience this book is, as nearly every character we’ve come to know and love through these novels gets a victory lap—including several we haven’t heard from in years.

If “Confessor” was simply a Sword of Truth family reunion, though, it wouldn’t work. No, with this volume Goodkind delivers some of the most intense passages of the entire series. Though it does drag a bit for about a hundred early pages, upon finishing the book it seems Goodkind was merely building tension to an almost unbearable level before letting it explode and explode and explode some more over the course of the novel’s second half. Several times at the end of a chapter I went back and reread what I’d just gone through, it’s that gripping. My heart pounded, my breath got a little tight, and I broke out into sweats as my eyes scoured the pages. Other times I broke into wide grins, laughed out loud, and even wanted to release an occasional cheer.

I’d like nothing better than to go on and on for hundreds or thousands of words about all the scenes and sections I loved, but that would certainly spoil the experience for others. What I can say, however, is that Goodkind—in true Richard fashion—remained true to himself with this novel, and nothing about “Confessor” besmirches the narrative and philosophical integrity he’s built over the course of 11 books. Not everyone will like the ending, but in this fan’s opinion, I can’t imagine the series concluding in a better way.

Now that the Sword of Truth has reached its conclusion, the true majesty and scope of Goodkind’s work can be fully appreciated. As a whole, these novels never floundered. Sure, different readers will have different entries that didn’t speak to them (mine is “Pillars of Creation”), and his writing is far from the most polished you’ll ever read, but Goodkind’s overall quality is unassailable. The fact that he was able to sustain such intensity over the course of so many thousands of pages is downright remarkable.

But that really comes back to the beginning, and the reason Goodkind became a writer in the first place: The story of Richard and Kahlan. Though he can be longwinded and repeats certain phrases too many times, Goodkind took his time in letting us get to know these two fabulous and singular characters, and this book is the ultimate payoff. Though Goodkind has hinted in the past at writing about Richard and Kahlan beyond the Sword of Truth series, “Confessor” ends so perfectly, I don’t know where he could go from here. I may not even want him to try.

The journey was exemplary. The conclusion is extraordinary. What a wonderful series of books.

Good Times, Bad Times: The Return of ‘Led Zeppelin’

The first time I heard Led Zeppelin, I was riding in my uncle’s 4Runner as we traveled through the foothills of the Grand Tetons in Wyoming. It was summer 1993. I had just turned 14, just graduated from middle school—no longer a boy, not yet a man. When my cousin popped “Led Zeppelin IV” into the CD player and I heard Robert Plant’s opening howl on “Black Dog,” followed by that unmistakable guitar explosion, my life changed forever.

I didn’t know it at the time, of course. Looking back, though, more than 14 years later I understand how hearing Zeppelin for the first time was a personal watershed. I’m sure I brought some music with me on that two-week trip across the country, but I have absolutely no recollection of what it may have been. It must have been total crap, because that’s all I listened to at that time. I had no older sibling to tell me to listen to The Who’s “Tommy” with the lights off, so I was subjected to whatever my stupid friends thought was cool at the time—most likely some awful pop/hip-hop. Whatever it was, Zeppelin obliterated it with a double-neck guitar assault, and I never looked back.

When I returned home, I immediately bought three Zeppelin tapes (yes, tapes!): “Led Zeppelin I,” “Physical Graffiti,” and “Led Zeppelin IV.” Not a bad way to be baptized in rock and roll.

I listened to those cassettes incessantly that summer and fall, but it wasn’t until the night before Thanksgiving that I took my next leap. As was tradition, I was staying at another cousin’s house in preparation for Turkey Day; after everyone else had gone to bed, I went downstairs and found next to her CD player the original Led Zeppelin four-disc box set.

It was like opening a treasure chest.

I stayed up into the wee hours that night (morning, actually) exploring those four glorious CDs, freaking myself out as I read the insert booklet’s hints of pagan blood rituals and other devilish deeds. At that time, growing up under the artistically, intellectually, and spiritually stunted auspices of what would eventually become a corrupt church, I was in the process of being indoctrinated with the worst kind of pop-culture paranoia. I worried that listening to this music would literally condemn me to hell … or at least make God real, real mad at me.

But I couldn’t tear my ears away from it. Thinking back, “In My Time of Dying” stands out most from that Thanksgiving Eve night. It was an 11-minute epic of such power, ferocity, and beauty the likes of which I’d never heard before.

Other than my very first CD player, that box set was the only other thing I really wanted for Christmas that year. My cousin came through, and my full-flight journey into rock and roll was officially under way—if a bit late.

***

I still have those original four CDs, and I cannot believe they still work. I played them almost incessantly, even as Zeppelin led me to other bands in those early days of exploration, most notably Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots, Metallica, and Aerosmith. Zeppelin faded to the background over the years as I discovered more and more bands, but their music never truly left me. When I popped Disc 2 of that box set in my car just today, I could still sing along to every single word on all 15 tracks. And my goodness those songs are still so glorious.

Given that history, it might come as a surprise that I felt little excitement over the band’s reunion show last night in London. Don’t get me wrong: If someone had given me tickets and airfare, I’d have been there without question. But the reviewers can pant and genuflect all they want—that wasn’t Led Zeppelin that took the stage. It was simply Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, John Paul Jones, and Jason Bonham, son of drummer John Bonham. No, Zeppelin died in 1980 with John in a puddle of his own vomit.

I won’t deny it was cool to see the three original members onstage together (via clips on YouTube), even if Page’s ghostly white hair is a bit unsettling. It’s just nearly not the same. I wasn’t even alive for Zeppelin’s heyday, but from everything I’ve seen and heard and read, there’s just no way it could be duplicated, no matter how many millions of fans and journalists would like to think such a thing possible.

This was certainly a special event, though, and I hope it stays that way. I don’t want a “reunion tour,” even though I’d probably break down and buy tickets anyway. They’ve resisted that juicy, money-laden red apple for nearly three decades, and it would be a pity to succumb to it now. It’s amazing that a group of such hedonistic, almost unthinkably indulgent men could hold themselves to such artistic integrity upon the death of their friend and bandmate—to immediately shut Led Zeppelin down for good and mean it—but they’ve conducted themselves quite well in these intervening years.

I much prefer what Plant and Page did in the 1990s with their re-imagining of the Zeppelin catalog through sitars and hurdy-gurdies. That was something fresh, something new, something that said “screw it” to people clamoring for cheap imitation and instead went in a completely different direction in a way that probably disappointed a good portion of Zep fans.

By going so far out, the duo’s return to more traditional, straightforward rock and roll with 1998’s “Walking to Clarksdale” was a natural next step. The album was just OK, but I saw them perform during that tour and it was fabulous. Most of the songs were culled from the old days, but it wasn’t forced or underwhelming because they weren’t trying to tour as the monster that is “LED ZEPPELIN”; instead, it just felt like two old friends who wanted to reconnect through a common bond. They played together for a summer, then went their separate ways. It was great.

Last night was great, too, for what it was: A fitting and special way for them to honor a former friend and mentor. Here’s hoping they can ignore the clamor—and the untold millions of potential dollars—and let their decades-long song of silence remain the same.

Here’s the setlist from London:

Good Times Bad Times
Ramble On
Black Dog
In My Time of Dying
For Your Life (first time played live—ever)
Trampled Under Foot
Nobody’s Fault But Mine
No Quarter
Since I’ve Been Loving You
Dazed and Confused
Stairway to Heaven
The Song Remains the Same
Misty Mountain Hop
Kashmir

First Encore:
Whole Lotta Love

Second Encore:
Rock and Roll


A few thoughts on the selection:

I can’t argue with a single choice here, but I’m a bit surprised that “Ramble On” appeared so early. Seems a bit of a momentum killer to me—too quiet of a song for that point in the set, with the crowd in what I can only imagine was a fever pitch.

Very cool that they pulled out “For Your Life”—adventurous right to the end, these guys.

The only thing more I could have hoped for was maybe a mini-acoustic set somewhere in the middle, like Page and Plant did in ’98. Something like “Going to California” into “That’s the Way” into “The Rain Song,” with “Ramble On” to follow and warm things back up.

On the other hand, it’s clear from this set they were in a mood to go out and just melt faces all over the place for two straight hours. I keep looking for a spot to jump in and say, “Wow, from [this song] to [this song] must have just been amazing,” but there’s really no good place to start such a sentence except at the beginning of the show.

So, “Wow, from ‘Good Times Bad Times’ to ‘Rock and Roll’ must have just been amazing.”

I just wonder if that amazement would wear out over the course of a grueling worldwide tour.

Deciphering 'The Golden Compass'

By this point you've probably heard something about "The Golden Compass," a new fantasy movie opening this Friday with an all-star cast headlined by Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig. The film is based on a novel of the same name by author Philip Pullman, and its generating a bit of controversy since Pullman, a self-proclaimed atheist, didn't even try to hide his attempt at discrediting and, if he's lucky, destroying Christianity.

Attacking Christ and those who believe in Him is nothing new, of course, especially in Hollywood. So that's why I was so glad to read Jeffrey Overstreet's piece on "Compass" over at ChristianityToday.com. It's one of the most intelligent, rational, sensible, and humble responses to such an issue I've ever read; it manages to slice Pullman's work to ribbons while giving the author his due respect and not resorting to rhetoric or histrionics. And while this article is focused on "Compass," Overstreet touches on other topics, too, most notably the nonsense responses of some to the Harry Potter franchise.

Overstreet's dissection is so good, in fact, it really could be about any piece of pop culture teeing up Christianity, because it speaks to both sides of a perpetually heated environment of strife.

I cannot recommend this story highly enough. It provides practical direction for Christians to follow in what can often feel like a world ablaze with hate.

2007: My Favorite TV Series of the Year

About this time last year, I decided to blend my best-of TV and movie lists into one, since the “boob tube” has become such a strong competitor with major motion pictures. The trend certainly continued this year, and the TV I watched was so strong I decided to give it back its own category.

Here are the best series I watched in 2007:

1. “Lost”
May’s two-hour season finale of “Lost” was without question the best piece of filmed entertainment I saw all year, on television or in the movie theater. Not only that, it’s one of the single greatest episodes of TV I’ve ever seen. The closing scene has veritably haunted me throughout the latter part of the year; though I’ve only watched it twice, my thoughts often drift back to the last few seconds of the show, that’s what a mind-job of an episode it was (“episode” doesn’t even feel like the right word).

The second season of “Lost” was a wreck, and I just about gave up on it. But the show returned to form in fall 2006 with its mini-season of six episodes that effectively catapulted the momentum forward into 16 stellar episodes this past spring—every single one was good, and several were downright great. It all culminated in the season finale, but I won’t say any more for fear of spoiling things for those who may not have seen it (the Season 3 DVD set hits Dec. 11, and I’m trying to come up with reasons why I shouldn’t buy it).

The conclusion of Season 3 was so outstanding and turned the tables on the series so violently, my only fear is that the production team of Carlton Cuse and Damon Lindelof won’t be able to handle the shape-shifting, time-altering, brain-teasing beast of a twist they unleashed in the closing seconds of this last ep. My hope, on the other hand, lies in their unprecedented commitment to end the show once and for all after three more 16-episode seasons. If they already have the endpoint in mind and know where the target is they have to hit and when, then maybe they have a shot at getting us there in one piece.

After this stunning season, I’ll certainly be there for every single step.

Favorite Episodes Other Than the Season Finale: “The Brig”/“The Man Behind the Curtain”—These two ran back-to-back. In the first, Locke and Sawyer work out some Daddy issues; in the second, we get a look at Ben’s history.



2. “Arrested Development”
For about, oh, the past decade I thought no comedy could ever possibly come close to my love for “Seinfeld.” Well, this year “Arrested Development” sure made a run at it. I blame a combination of poor marketing by Fox (they should have played up the dry wit as much as the loony elements in the commercials) and tough timeslot competition (originally Sunday nights opposite “Alias”) for missing this show when it first aired, but I made up for lost time this summer on DVD. Certainly not since Larry David left “Seinfeld” has a show been better written than “AD,” and with such fully developed and iconic characters (Will Arnett’s G.O.B. is my favorite). This show packs more jokes and gut-busting laughs into 20 minutes than any I’ve ever seen—you have to watch each episode at least twice in hopes of even catching the majority of them. All three seasons are gold, Jerry, gold.

Favorite Episode: “The One Where They Build the House” (Season 2)—Tobias dresses as a Blue Man to spy on his wife, Lindsey. What else needs be said?



3. “Dexter”
It must take some twisted minds to make a serial killer seem sympathetic, but such is the case with this wonderfully gruesome and morally gray Showtime drama starring Michael C. Hall (“Six Feet Under”). Hall is Dexter, a charming and, yes, likeable serial killer whose foster father taught him to control and sate his bloodthirsty urges by living according to “The Code of Harry”—meaning, only attack and chop up bad people who’ve managed to avoid the law (Dexter works for the Miami Police Department as a blood-spatter specialist, no less!). This show gives you everything: Gripping drama, emotionally resonant characters, probing moral questions, heart-pounding suspense, mindbending mystery, and even a chuckle now and again. Certainly one of the best series on TV—if you can get past the sliced and diced bodies, of course.

Favorite Episode: “Shrink Wrap” (Season 1)—As a longtime “Sopranos” fan, maybe I’m just a sucker for therapy-themed shows (as you’ll also see in No. 4). This ep puts Dex on the couch to great effect. Plus, Lauren Velez’s work as Lt. Laguerta is absolutely outstanding. PLUS, the hour ends with a tremendous reveal about the Ice Truck Killer. Yes, it’s a killer episode.


4. “Bones”
I didn’t pick up on this delightful show (is that really the right term for a series about decayed skeletons?) until this fall, but it’s become an instant favorite. This stems primarily from the dynamic duo of co-stars Emily Deschanel and David Boreanaz (Angel from “Buffy”), who admirably pick up the Mulder/Scully baton, albeit with a lighter mood. Deschanel plays the title character, otherwise known as Dr. Temperance Brennan, a brilliant and beautiful forensic anthropologist who specializes in, you guessed it, bones; Boreanaz is her FBI agent partner, Seeley Booth (what a great name!), who calls Bones in to solve crimes involving skeletal remains. Though Bones and Booth uncover a carcass-related mystery each week, it’s their crackling chemistry and lightning wit that make “Bones” more than just another “CSI” (Boreanaz says they improv together every weekend to hone their repartee). In true Fox “fair and balanced” fashion, the two investigators typically take up opposite sides of a given issue and debate the philosophy while working the puzzle. Bones, the atheist scientist, tends toward the humanist response, whereas Booth, a devout Catholic, comes from a more spiritual and—dare I say the evil word?—conservative perspective. The great thing about the show is that rarely does it make a judgment either way; the lead characters present their arguments to each other and, thus, the audience as well, and the writers deftly leave it up to us to decide who we agree with more. Who knew decaying corpses could be so entertaining? And, to top it all off: The show is set in D.C.!

Favorite Episode: “The Secret in the Soil” (Season 3)—Again, another shrink-themed installment. This one puts Bones and Booth in front of young Dr. Lance Sweets (dubbed “Sweets” for short, by Booth), and forces a revealing look at their relationship. A strong runner-up goes to the Halloween-themed episode, though—somebody needs to cast Deschanel in the Wonder Woman movie because she looks perfect in that outfit (see below)!




5. “The Office” (American version)
I was opposed to this show back when it debuted in 2005 because, as a big fan of the original British version, I simply wasn’t interested in a bad American knockoff. And that notion certainly wasn’t helped at all whenever I caught pieces of this “Office” over the past few years, because American star Steve Carell shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence as the original “Office” star Ricky Gervais (even though, technically, I did just mention them in the same sentence). I was pressured into watching the American version by friends, though, and after giving it a fair shake (all of Season 2 on DVD and, concurrently, this fall’s start to Season 4), I definitely grew to like it and understand why so many others do, too. Make no mistake: I still cannot stand Carell’s Michael Scott, and he isn’t anywhere close to the same league as Gervais’ David Brent. Here’s the key difference: Gervais played Brent as smarmy and uncouth; Carell plays Scott as smarmy and just dumb. As every “Office” fan I’ve ever talked to has told me, I can now confirm: It’s the rest of the cast and the characters they play that make this “Office” worth watching—and downright addicting. Pam, Jim, Dwight, Stanley, Toby … every single person in that building is funny in their own way, and had me laughing uproariously this fall. Unfortunately, since Carell’s the big star, he gets the majority of the screen time. Here’s hoping he gets tired of slumming in TV and moves exclusively to feature films, because much like his character, this “Office” would keep right on tickin’ without him.

Favorite Episode: “The Injury” (Season 2)—Michael burns his foot in his George Foreman Grill, and Dwight goes to rescue him. Tears-down-the-cheeks hilarity ensues.



6. “Flight of the Conchords”
How can you resist Bret and Jemaine, otherwise known as Flight of the Conchords—New Zealand’s fourth most popular folk parody duo? These two lovable, doe-eyed morons delivered the best new comedy of the year, along with their even more clueless manager Murray (“New Zealand: Why not?”), and uber fan/stalker Mel. The key to the show is the contrast between Bret and Jemaine’s low-key, monotone real-life personalities and the extraordinary expressiveness they display during their inner monologue songs. “Business Time,” “Bowie’s in Space,” “What You’re In To” … every episode had at least one instant classic. So glad the show was picked up for another season.

Favorite Episode: “Mugged,” which featured Bret and Jemaine in their gangsta rap personalities, “Rhymenoceros” and “Hiphopopotamus,” whose rhymes are bottomless …



7. “Entourage”
“Entourage” may have leaned a bit too far toward the drama and away from the yuks, but the series gets massive credit for delivering, on the whole, entertainment of the highest quality for five straight months—a marathon in HBO’s world. Jeremy Piven remains the No. 1 reason to watch this show, but this year it got back to examining the underbelly deals of Hollywood. What I love about “Entourage,” other than the sparkling (if profane) dialogue, is the education it provides. My brother and I talk about this all the time: Watching this show, you come away feeling like you know a lot more about the business. And its writing staff continues to live right on the cutting edge of current trends and hot-button issues; just days after featuring a weed “doctor” in an episode, for example, a real-life huckster of the same ilk got busted in California. And in 2009, Javier Bardem will star in “Killing Pablo,” about, yep, Pablo Escobar, whom Vinny Chase portrays in the fictional biopic “Medellin.”

Favorite Episodes: Since “Entourage”—in HBO’s insane math—actually gave us two seasons this year, I gotta include two episodes. First, Season 4 premiere “Welcome to the Jungle” was a revelation in half-hour comedy filmmaking, as it took us on-set documentary-style for the production of “Medellin” (and provided one of the best Johnny Drama scenes ever). Second, “The WeHo Ho,” where Ari has to cover for Lloyd (the best secondary character on TV. Period.) so the loyal assistant can get out of trouble with his boyfriend and come back to work.


8. “The Sopranos”
After a disappointing 2006 run, the legendary HBO mob drama did return to form this year—for a while, anyway.

Favorite Episode: “Remember When,” Uncle Junior’s coup de grace.


AND THE BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENTS OF 2007 ARE …

1. “24”
No surprise here. Despite a few moments of grace here and there (the fight near the end of the season between Jack and the big bad terrorist was one of the best action scene of the series), this show experienced a rather stunning fall after 2006’s Emmy-winning Day 5. Day 7 isn’t off to a great start, either, what with multiple rewrites, Keifer Sutherland’s DUI arrest/jail time, and now postponed production due to the Writers Guild strike. I’m starting to think Jack Bauer isn’t the only one cursed.

Worst Episode: Wow, so many to choose from. I’ll go with the fourth episode of the season, “9:00-10:00 AM,” because the end of this installment is where the whole season started to go wrong. Up to this point, things were pretty good, what with Jack back from the clutches of the Chinese and dealing with the ramifications of his captivity and torture. But toward the end ***SPOILER ALERT*** Jack kills fellow CTU agent Curtis Manning, a choice that also proved fatal for the writers this season. Too many likeable characters were killed in too quick a time (going back to Day 5), leaving a huge vacuum in the show’s empathy quotient and too much screen time for weak members of the series (I’m looking right at you Morris!). And then to top it all off, the freakin’ nuclear bomb goes off in Valencia. This was WAY too early for such a dramatic event, and it established a plot hole so massive, not even the fantasy world of “24” could overcome it: There just wasn’t enough fallout after the bomb. For the most part, life in “24’s” California went on as if nuclear bombs go off all the time. Yes, this episode was the first step into Day 6’s abyss.


2. “Heroes”
I never fell head-over-heels for “Heroes” (it was always a bit too self-aware of its own mythology) but it was one of my favorite shows of 2006. Everything was going all right this year, too, right up until the final three episodes. Creator Tim Kring probably should have just stopped with the excellent time-warp-to-the-future episode “Five Years Gone,” because the show plummeted after that.

Worst Episode: “How to Stop an Exploding Man,” the Season 1 finale. So, so, so awful on every conceivable level. This episode was so bad, I immediately gave up on the series the second the credits started rolling, and haven’t watched it since. Good thing, too, since Kring gave Entertainment Weekly an exclusive interview a few weeks back frankly admitting how much Season 2 has sucked. Points for honesty, but nowhere near enough to bring me back.


3. “The Sopranos”
The finale sucked, plain and simple. Reiterating thoughts brought up by “No Country for Old Men,” I’m not one who needs everything tied up in a nice, tidy bow. But there are ways to do no resolution (see the series finale of “Deadwood,” for example) … and then there’s cutting to a black screen in the middle of a scene. It was cheap, gimmicky, and a deliberate F-you from David Chase. Which I guess shouldn’t surprise anyone.

Worst Episode: “Kennedy and Heidi” not only featured the stupid and unsatisfying death of my favorite “Sopranos” character, but it also provided the series’ last infamous Tony dream sequence. You either like these or you don’t. I do not.


4. “PTI”
The budding TV fame and success of co-hosts Tony Kornheiser and Mike Wilbon has not been good for this duo. With a year of “Monday Night Football” under his belt, Kornheiser is even more of an insufferable arrogant snob than ever—it used to be funny, now it’s just annoying. Wilbon’s on TV more and more now, too, which has relegated him to little more than talking-head status alongside his longtime buddy—the likes of which they’ve both abhorred and decried for years. When “PTI” first came on the air six years ago, both of these guys were still working regularly as columnists for The Washington Post; there were out there, down in the trenches. Now Kornheiser doesn’t write at all, and Wilbon only occasionally as they get sucked deeper and deeper into the ESPN bubble. Losing what little touch with reality they may have had working in the Post newsroom on a regular basis hasn’t been good for either of them and their groundbreaking sports debate show. Don’t get me wrong: I still watch it, but they’re both so full of themselves now, “PTI” has lost its singular humor, charm, and edge (they both suck up to everybody now, and Wilbon only gets animated about issues that don’t matter). Now I look forward to the days when the Miami Herald’s Dan le Betard subs for one of them, because he still gets it.


5. “Football Night in America”
I absolutely hate this show. It was in Week 1 of this season, I think, when I looked at the screen and realized there isn’t a single person on this Sunday-night recap show that I don’t despise, especially with the additions of the insufferable Keith Olbermann (who may actually be the Worst Person in the World) and Tiki Barber. All I want on Sunday nights is HIGHLIGHTS—and a lot of them. Since the NFL banned ESPN from running the infinitely superior “NFL Prime Time,” now all I get on NBC is 30 seconds of footage and 3 minutes of talking heads for each game. “Football Night in America” needs more actual football, because its current version is horrendous.