The Brothers Bloom: All the world's a stage

The Brothers Bloom opens with narration by magician Ricky Jay, the con man from House of Games reprising his role as the ominous opening narrator of Magnolia. That’s your first hint that the film is obsessed with cinema. Rian Johnson deliriously spins his pulp narrative, a complicated con story that weaves and darts across exotic Europe. But any time the story tries for sentiment, it leaves us cold.

You see, The Brothers Bloom has a heck of a time setting its traps and playing magician, but there’s also a weighty thread about one brother, Bloom (Adrien Brody), feeling increasingly downtrodden about his life’s artificiality, yearning for “an unwritten life.” Naturally his brother Stephen (Mark Ruffalo), their tactiturn explosions expert Bang Bang (Rinko Kikuchi), and their latest mark, an eccentric hobby collector (Rachel Weisz, the show's triumph), try to cheer him up, but all this sincerity collides with our natural inclination to suspect ulterior motives. You can see how this is a problem when Johnson’s searching for tears or at least sympathy, which he does far too often for such a fun, flighty film.

Take Johnson’s debut, Brick, a story full of twists and cons, gambits and surrenders. Brendan is some Joe sucked into this world, so we connect with him and his accompanying emotional entanglements without suspecting hidden agendas. But nobody buys a con man’s relationship. There’s a reason Harry Lime doesn’t have a romantic arc.

Which is all the more disappointing, because the surface narrative, a pulpy, cosmopolitan adventure in the vein of The Lives of Harry Lime, is a vivacious affair, an exuberantly colored balloon struggling to jettison its dead weight. Johnson absolutely nails the settings, which require a more exotic, romantic side of Europe than the overexposed vistas of Paris and London. Instead, we visit Montenegro and Prague and St. Petersburg and out-of-the-way Mexico, charming backdrops to the old-fashioned capers on display. Stephen's ingenious plots are fascinating, Bang Bang is hilarious without saying much, and Weisz's parade of hobbies is a marvel.

The Brothers Bloom is so full of magic—a heart-shaped mirror, a theatrical finale, a transcendent interlude with a resplendent red apple, card tricks galore—that its hefty baggage doesn’t come close to ruining the experience. Still, like Bloom himself, I can’t help but wish the tale were a little less self-conscious and a little more unwritten.

Stupid, Bloody Tuesday: Happy Birthday to Us

Contrary to popular belief, Tuesday birthdays are perfect, because you can annex both the preceding and following weekends. My actual birthday, however, will be a monument to boringness thanks to Trooper Daley of Navasota. I’m sure his life is very fulfilling. On the bright side, I get to enjoy at least one gift, and I’ve found a better birthday buddy!

See, in high school, I learned from IMDb that I shared a birthday with—wait for it—Tom Sizemore. Yippee, right? Well, thanks to Wikipedia, I have uncovered several better candidates. On the celebrity front, there’s Zachary Levi, Madeline Kahn, and Ian McShane. Venturing further back reveals Enrico Fermi, Admiral Nelson, Caravaggio and Miguel de Cervantes! But—drumroll, please—I’ve decided my official birthday buddy will be: coming up after this short message from our sponsors.

Michelangelo Antonioni! My experience with Antonioni, whom I am totally naming my next dog after, begins with L’Avventura, which I was not prepared for and anticipate revisiting. But about a year ago I beheld Blow Up, and my world has never been the same. It helps that school and Wikipedia have learned me some philosophy in the mean time, and now that I also have The Red Desert and The Passenger under my belt, I’m officially obsessed with the Italian master. So today, to celebrate our celestially overlapping lives, I’m hoping to finally go Don Draper and take in La Notte and maybe another.

Unfortunately, I also have this pressing issue of defensive driving, the only progress at which I’ve made involves fuming that speeding alone should not be punishable and researching John Stuart Mill’s harm principle. I have no doubt that speeding increases risk of an accident, but charge me when that happens, not before. Speed limits prevent the free market from deciding who lives and who dies, or so I gather from the bored, old, white ladies chanting outside my apartment complex.

But even if I don’t get to La Notte tonight, there is a silver lining in the form of my first birthday gift, which you may have gathered from the title: The Beatles Remastered! 13 albums and then some. I’ll gladly admit to an untrained ear and a general inexperience when it comes to classic rock, but what I’ve listened to so far sounds noticeably better than my earlier versions. I may not be the only person taking defensive driving today, and I certainly won’t be the only person giving the Beatles Remastered a whirl, but I just might be the only person scoring complicated intersection procedures with “Drive My Car.”

Man vs. Wild: The men behind the Man

Man vs. Wild just concluded its latest block of episodes with another special. Normally I ignore the clip packages, especially since one of them was just about the disgusting things Bear Grylls eats. But this special was an attempt to silence the show’s critics with a look at Bear’s crew, and it was entertainingly edifying to see the show from another perspective.

The show wasn’t as clear as it could have been, but I gather Bear generally travels with a cameraman, a sound guy, and their ropes guy. The crew get to eat food that isn’t crawling, and they are afforded certain luxuries like firesuits in exchange for carrying film equipment and following Bear into dangerous rivers or caves.

Unfortunately, the current sound guy—Paul Ritz according to IMDb—is MIA outside of shots of an anonymous crew member holding a boom mike over the action. Or maybe he gives really boring interview.

Luckily, what footage we do get of the crew definitely augments the show’s exhilaration. Interviews with ropes man Dave Pearce—responsible for the safe climbing of the crew—and survival consultant Stani Groeneweg—who I assume advises the team before their expeditions without accompanying them, though, again, the episode wasn’t as transparent as it purports—shed some fascinating light on specific obstacles like the flash flood and Bear’s boar fight.

But the star of the special—and the series—is cameraman Simon Reay, director of photography in industry-speak, who does everything Bear does only backward and in heels. Telegenic with an expressive face, Reay is a joy to listen to as he reveals his anxieties, lending some humanity to balance the macho superman side of Man vs. Wild. Since his job entails following Bear anywhere and keeping the camera pointed at the action, Reay finds himself in awkward positions like jumping from a helicopter on cue or following Bear into a cave so far that they end up swimming through an underground lake hoping for an air pocket on the other side. The cave scenes are the scariest parts of the series—which speaks to my claustrophobia trumping my fear of crocodiles—and seeing how they’re done only deepens the terror.

Perhaps accidentally, the special elicits some intriguing questions as to the primary auteur of Man vs. Wild. The host goes where he chooses, but the cameraman controls what the audience sees, so the series hangs on their collaboration. They’re the Simon and Seacrest of the Discovery Channel.

Although it may lower the volume, I doubt the special will silence any critics, but the appeal is largely for fans familiar with Bear’s on-camera feats. Explaining the magic is supposed to ruin the tricks, but for Man vs. Wild, it’s only made them more intense.

Let's Do the Time Warp Again: On the flashforward cliche

In the beginning was Lost. Well, there was probably time-tripping television before then, but it’s irrelevant because we live in a post-9-11 world where the president's shirt sleeves matter, the new timeline broken off into the ocean like California. Also Star Trek only begat more Star Trek, and Doctor Who only resurfaced after Lost made pop culture safe for wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff. The high-concept time-jump craze is directly attributable to Lost via the surge of network sci-fi.

So Lost, obsessed with the malleability of time and space with respect to consciousness, illustrates its thematic preoccupations with flashbacks and –forwards, time-jumping, and now presumably time-altering.

Five years later, showrunners will realize that they can suck gobs of money just by assembling a classic soap opera—disparate character types drawn together by shared trauma like suicide, affairs, and medical problems—and topping it with the flashforward gimmick. The time-tripping doesn’t magically solve the story’s triteness, but it does hide it a bit. Which is why plenty of television writers love the shockingly unimaginative FlashForward, whose omens apparently chart the same territory as Oedipus Rex, only two and a half millennia later.

FlashForward is simply the latest violator, a titled symbol for the banality of the time-jump. You may think we’ve ventured into an alternate universe, because I’m about to praise Damages and knock Battlestar Galactica. But the Damages technique—a Memento throwback where glimpses of the future eventually become the present, later employed by Breaking Bad—is a sparing, compelling suspense generator. Battlestar’s flaw was an overreliance on the “x hours earlier” conceit, necessitated by an opening flashforward, during Season 2. Of course, Battlestar paid its debt with the masterpiece of television time-jumping, the “one year later” stroke at the end of “Lay Down Your Burdens.”

Twenty-four hours earlier, the last straw arrived when Mad Men opened in flashforward. That’s right: so-classical-it-hurts Mad Men showed symptoms of a dangerous postmodernist infection, using the same gimmick that opened last night’s timeslot rival, the season premiere of Brothers and Sisters. The reigning Best Drama experienced an unfortunate lapse into network soap cliché, and after all was said and done, Brothers and Sisters out-time-gimmicked Mad Men. The former used its flashforward as a red herring—weak and unnecessary, but unexpected at least—while Mad Men tried to generate interest with a few unusual shots of the main characters, followed by a “how they got there” narrative.

Nonlinear chronology only serves stories that work apart from their tricks—too much temporal discombobulation begets Heroes. Today the best use of time-skipping might be on How I Met Your Mother, which playfully hops around the many years that span Ted’s story with comedic narrative techniques from hair alterations to forgotten or imagined details. It’s a fun guest to have over when it has something interesting to say, but with its ubiquity manifest from Dollhouse to NCIS and back again, the flashforward has more than worn out its welcome.

Polanski Arrested

The talk of the cinephile community: Roman Polanski was arrested finally--cue the moralizing choir and the opposing blind-eye-rs. I don't have anything to offer except sadness for everyone involved. Morally, politically, I can't say Polanski doesn't deserve official sanctioning, but it's out of deep sympathy for Polanski and his victim and a selfish appreciation for the director's work that I hope the matter is resolved fairly and swiftly and put behind us.

Seven Photos by Brassai

The greatest triumph of The September Issue is introducing me to a new photographer--new for me, that is. Brassaï, as the artist Gyula Halász is known, lived quite the cosmopolitan life, dividing his formative years among Hungarian Romania, Paris, Budapest, and Berlin, and in 1933 published a collection called Paris by Night. Some of my favorites, anon.

"Bijou of the Montmartre Cabarets" - Also known as Leahanne in about a year.

"House of Illusion" - This is my favorite, as you probably could have guessed given my noir proclivities, though this is about as expressionistic as Brassaï gets, which is to say not very.

"Notre Dame from the Ile Saint-Louis" - My second favorite, with its magnificent silhouetted skyline.

"Oldest Police Station in Paris"

"Open Gutter"

"Palais-Royale Train Station" - If an artwork features a train, a station, rails, or a grizzled conductor yelling at passengers in a language they can't understand, I love it.

"Prostitute at angle of Rue de la Reynie and Rue Quincampoix" - It seems Brassaï's most famous work is more romantic, and his contributions to French poetic realism--apparently he and Jacques Prévert were BFFs for a while--place these in a more proto-noir, neorealist context. Nonetheless, I'll take what I can get when it comes to noir.

The September Issue: Actually, the Devil wears Chanel

I hope there’s a world of design outside of pop fashion, because I don’t want to believe in an industry so deliciously, perfectly corrupt. The fashion-industrial complex is a shining example of Hobbes’ leviathan, with its legendarily monstrous sovereign Anna Wintour, editrix of Vogue. The September Issue by RJ Cutler is a straightforward chronicle of the hectic publication of Vogue’s thickest issue to date, the exalted Fall 2007 trendsetter, but by simply relating the facts, never probing or prodding, the film accidentally elicits the suspicion that fashion editing is less art than marketing.

Once Wintour achieved her throne in the late ‘80s, presumably by poisoning the reigning king, her first September issue made waves with a black cover model. Since then, Wintour has established the rules of the game, singlehandedly resurrecting fur and capitalizing on celebrity culture by placing famous actresses on her covers. Now apparently the entire fashion world hangs on her every passive-aggressive whim.

There is no rebellion in Wintour’s kingdom. The scarce conflict in the film stems from creative director Grace Coddington’s attachment to her romantic spreads. Wintour finds one too busy, or she worries about too much black, or she craves more wearable items, though she poses her concerns as questions with one right answer to whomever happens to be in the room. Coddington, meanwhile, is portrayed as the artist whose vision leads her to inspired, backlit spreads with soft focus, photographic details that are so not in vogue. As we are warned early on, Vogue “is always gonna be Anna’s point of view,” so commerce trumps art every time.

Despite dismissing the writing process—a surprising omission for a film titled after a piece of narrative content—Cutler has crafted an amusing entertainment, but he makes not even a surface attempt to expose the fashion industry before him, as if he’s afraid Wintour will rip a vital organ from his chest and then mock his outfit. Of course, Wintour, with her indoor sunglasses and mod haircut helmet, is nigh impenetrable. Oh, she smiles and laughs, and as mentioned, the film features scant warfare, but you get the sense Wintour is revealing precisely what she intends. She’s marketing her persona.

Then there’s the thread about the Vogue fashion fund, a contest for an up-and-coming designer to create something for a major label. Yes, the fund is a generous bridge over otherwise impossible barriers to entry, but it’s also a means of cooption, which any political theorist will tell you is the best way to subvert independent impulses.

With Project Runway, where a simple “I don’t do asymmetrical necklines” passes for valid criticism, The Rachel Zoe Project with its wannabe Anna Wintour, and The Devil Wears Prada, a blockbuster that told its secrets—you’re wearing that color because Anna Wintour decided it would be in two years ago and it’s finally trickled down to your mass market—pop fashion has made it clear that it wants nothing to do with artistic expression. The very terms “vogue” and “fashion” refer to what’s popular, not what’s interesting or innovative or artful. Yes, pop fashion is more marketing than art, but so is The September Issue, just another weapon in Wintour’s arsenal, a fun, pretty, distracting advertisement for the emperor’s fabulous new clothes.

Comedy Night Done Right: Community & Parks and Recreation

Thursday night comedy is back! It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia gave me everything I require: a hilarious Dee showcase and musings on bird law. The Office managed to squeeze in every cast member in just 22 minutes with an amusing, if not groundbreaking return. Something probably happened on Leno. But the significant talking points are Community and Parks and Recreation.

Community was excruciatingly slow to start, given the mountainous hype of the best-new-series variety. But when the seven main characters wind up in the library discussing the creepiness of Chevy Chase, the show takes off. Rapidfire jokes, deft characterization, and a fair amount of plot turns illustrate the series’ immense potential, especially now that the exposition is out of the way. Abed is an early favorite, but the entire ensemble, with one possible exception, is quite strong.

Somehow, though, Parks and Recreation ended up with the best cast on NBC, making “Pawnee Zoo” the best episode of the night. Say what you want about how effectively they’ve been used, these guys are all hilarious, and “Pawnee Zoo” reunites everyone with sharper characterizations—“That was hands-down the best interaction I’ve ever had with Donna.” Amy Poehler’s Leslie Knope is not a Michael Scott dimwit. She’s smart, just naïve, manifest in her earnestness about the role of government and her blindness to its bureaucratic, entrenchedly dogmatic realities.

Accordingly, with the pit project on the back burner, Parks and Recreation is finally capitalizing on its premise to ground the Pawnee Parks and Recreation Department in some good, old-fashioned topical commentary, much to my delight. “Pawnee Zoo” wasn’t really about gay marriage—aside from the hatred-with-a-smile of one brand of social conservative and the narrative message that Leslie vacillates on the issue until she meets and appreciates gay people—but rather the pointlessness of a political discourse characterized by extreme polarization and trigger-happy ideologues ready to politicize every issue, no matter how inane. For instance: “People in this town don’t really like their government employees being activists. Last year, a garbageman was suspended for wearing a LiveStrong bracelet.”

Leslie sincerely, hysterically cuts to the heart of the matter—“That penguin wedding was cute, dammit!”—but the furor roars on, Norman Hiscock's script referencing disproportionate partisan warfare, common gay marriage debate fallacies, and the fecklessness of an enabling media. The satire is so precise that Marcia from SFSF demands a reimbursement of the taxpayers for the cost of the penguin wedding, which I assume amounts to gas money, if we’re generous. It’s the Van Jones fiasco writ small.

In other words, despite my insatiable love of 30 Rock, “Pawnee Zoo” is the best satire I’ve seen on NBC in a long time. It helps that when the episode isn’t bogged down in an infuriatingly accurate portrayal of American politics, it finds time to question Tom’s masculinity, remember Will Smith, and drop some youth culture courtesy of Parks’ secret weapon Aubrey Plaza: “Derek is gay, but he’s straight for me, but he’s gay for Ben, and Ben’s really gay for Derek. And I hate Ben.” Paul Schneider and Chris Pratt could be more seamlessly integrated, but The Office didn’t have a handle on several of its characters by the time of its second season premiere “The Dundies,” which jumpstarted one of the great comedy seasons. Let’s hope “Pawnee Zoo” is just the beginning.

2009 Emmy Reaction

Best Emmy ceremony in years, replete with awkward red carpet banter, an opening musical number better than the one that won an Emmy, and Ricky Gervais showing the other presenters how it's done.

I learned something about myself tonight. I love upsets, surprises, and underdogs. Except when the frontrunners are my favorites. I'm very bourgeois that way. But yes, it hurts that the one non-repeat winner in the major categories (series and lead performance) is Tina Fey. Toni Collette aside--good with drama, less so with comedy, really like her show--Tina Fey, even with an acting Emmy, isn't recognized as the great actress she is. Her role is extremely difficult, and she pulls it off with flair, but at least people like Alec Baldwin and Bob Newhart find ways to throw her name around with Lucille Ball and Elaine May. There's always next year, though Showtime, which won its first major Emmy thanks to Collette, has another strong contender in Emmy favorite Edie Falco.

Returning champions range from Bryan Cranston with a phenomenal performance to Alec Baldwin, also excellent, to--deep breath--Glenn Close, whose grandstanding melodrama Damages will always outscore the classier, subtler, more artful Mad Men when it comes to acting awards.

There were plenty of other Emmy mainstays: The Daily Show won its seventh consecutive Emmy for Outstanding Variety, Music, or Comedy Series, and its sixth writing Emmy of the decade. The Amazing Race has won the Emmy for reality competition every year since the award was spawned. And David Simon and Ed Burns, creators of--what's the word for when "critical favorite" is an understatement?--The Wire, were again ignored, in this case for their masterful miniseries Generation Kill.

Wanna know what made me happiest? Battlestar Galactica music scoring a television drama clip package, with a shot of Edward James Olmos' Admiral Adama earning huge applause, followed by a section devoted to the series. In lieu of flying Mary McDonnell in on a trapeze yelling, "I'm coming for all of you!" it was pretty good.

Mad Men's second consecutive victory for Best Drama was nice, too. Like The Amazing Race, both Mad Men and 30 Rock can only find disappointment in Emmy. They've won every year they've been on the air.

But someday, my prince, uh, Jon Hamm will win. It might be too late for the hugely deserving Steve Carell and Hugh Laurie, but Hamm's still in the race as long as Mad Men is hip. And judging by reactions to tonight's episode, the cool factor ain't goin' anywhere.

While I hate to admit it, a part of me sincerely appreciates the surprises in the supporting races. Well, except for Jon Cryer. I don't even mind the Cherry Jones win over Hope Davis or last year's champ Dianne Wiest. But more people voted for Jon Cryer than Neil Patrick Harris, Tracy Morgan, or Rainn Wilson? Maybe that Emmy really can be bought. At least Kristin Chenoweth and Michael Emerson were worthy winners, and I'm glad Pushing Daisies earned a major Emmy as a farewell gift.

Above all, though, this year's Emmys was a great show. It wasn't revolutionary, but Neil Patrick Harris proved his consummate showmanship (consummated his showmanship?), and except for the cutaways to the "best seat in the house," prepared some funny bits including a Dr. Horrible segment and hysterical-if-you-could-hear-it commentary by John Hodgman, alerting us to the 76th year of The Daily Show and other fun facts.

And now, Tina Fey better have that writing staff in a cold, windowless room. Let's spin this quasi-backlash into a comeback. Everyone loves an underdog.

2009 Emmy Predictions

It's not too late to make some Emmy predictions, is it? I promise you I won't pick all the frontrunners.

Comedy



Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Comedy:

Jon Cryer - Two and a Half Men
Kevin Dillon - Entourage
Neil Patrick Harris - How I Met Your Mother
Jack McBrayer - 30 Rock
Tracy Morgan - 30 Rock
Rainn Wilson - The Office

As you know, I think Neil Patrick Harris should win, with Tracy Morgan as a great alternative. With a Piven-free race, it feels wide open, but Harris has insane buzz nowadays, and he’s hosting, so my money’s on Barney.

Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Comedy:

Kristin Chenoweth - Pushing Daisies
Jane Krakowski - 30 Rock
Elizabeth Perkins - Weeds
Amy Poehler - SNL
Kristen Wiig - SNL
Vanessa Williams - Ugly Betty

Discounting Vanessa Williams and Elizabeth Perkins (who was probably the best thing about her show last year), this is a toughie. It sounds like Wiig has a fair amount of support, and Krakowski may ride the 30 Rock train. Maybe I’m going out on a limb, though, since Pushing Daisies is cancelled, but Kristin Chenoweth should and will win.

Outstanding Lead Actor in a Comedy:

Alec Baldwin - 30 Rock
Steve Carell - The Office
Jemaine Clement - Flight of the Conchords
Jim Parsons - The Big Bang Theory
Tony Shalhoub - Monk
Charlie Sheen - Two and a Half Men

With all the Big Bang Theory buzz, I’ve been meaning to check it out, but I still have not beheld more than a moment of Jim Parsons' performance. Otherwise, I think, perhaps surprisingly, Steve Carell should win over Alec Baldwin. There doesn’t seem to be much buzz for Baldwin, surprisingly, but consider: he won last year, Emmy clearly loves 30 Rock, and his submission “Generalissimo” gives him quite a showcase. I’d love to see Jemaine Clement score a surprise victory, but I think the race really comes down to Parsons, Carell, and Baldwin. Picking a name from a hat, I predict another win for Baldwin.

Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy:

Christina Applegate - Samantha Who?
Toni Collette - United States of Tara
Tina Fey - 30 Rock
Julia Louis-Dreyfus - The New Adventures of Old Christine
Mary-Louise Parker - Weeds
Sarah Silverman - The Sarah Silverman Project

Tina Fey should win, and Tina Fey will win. If the voters see her submission, “Reunion,” the contest is over. Toni Collette’s a fine second place, but I highly doubt she puts a dent in Fey’s winning streak.

Outstanding Comedy:

30 Rock
Entourage
Family Guy
Flight of the Conchords
How I Met Your Mother
The Office
Weeds

Obviously I think 30 Rock deserves the win. It sounds like the race is coming down to 30 Rock, The Office, and Family Guy as a not-so-surprise-spoiler. Certainly they have decent chances, but its record-breaking 22 nominations gives the edge to 30 Rock.

Drama



Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Drama:

Rose Byrne - Damages
Hope Davis - In Treatment
Cherry Jones - 24
Sandra Oh - Grey's Anatomy
Dianne Wiest - In Treatment
Chandra Wilson - Grey's Anatomy

I hope one of the In Treatment ladies wins, and of the two I think Hope Davis deserves it. This is a strange category, and I’ve seen wild picks, so with no real frontrunners, I think I’ll go with my favorite and predict Hope Davis.

Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama:

Christian Clemenson - Boston Legal
Michael Emerson - Lost
William Hurt - Damages
Aaron Paul - Breaking Bad
William Shatner - Boston Legal
John Slattery - Mad Men

Slattery should win, but as much as I’d love to see Mad Men score more trophies, I doubt he has a shot. Instead I’m siding with some of the crazy guesses I’ve seen and say Aaron Paul will win. Which is stupid considering William Hurt’s reputation and last year’s winner (Zjelko Ivanek, another single-season Damages player), but Paul was incredible last year with a much improved performance.

Outstanding Actress in a Drama:

Glenn Close - Damages
Sally Field - Brothers and Sisters
Mariska Hargitay - Law and Order: SVU
Holly Hunter - Saving Grace
Elisabeth Moss - Mad Men
Kyra Sedgwick - The Closer

I don’t want to think about it. While I’ll be celebrating the work Mary McDonnell and January Jones did last year, I think Elisabeth Moss deserves this award by far, especially considering her submission was the season finale. Unfortunately, I’m too cynical for that: Glenn Close will win again.

Outstanding Actor in a Drama:

Simon Baker - The Mentalist
Gabriel Byrne - In Treatment
Bryan Cranston - Breaking Bad
Michael C. Hall - Dexter
Jon Hamm - Mad Men
Hugh Laurie - House

There are three great performances here—Byrne, Cranston, and Hamm—but I don’t think it’s really all that close: Jon Hamm’s measured nuance outstrips everyone else. As for who will win, the race is not so clean-cut. There’s a major contingent pulling for Laurie to finally win, but I think it’s too late to give an Emmy to Dr. House. I’d like to say Hamm will win, but Cranston’s work is just inherently more showy, and he won last year. Ah, what the hell? I’ll predict Hamm.

Outstanding Drama:

Big Love
Breaking Bad
Damages
Dexter
House
Lost
Mad Men

Mad Men deserves the win, and it feels like a lock.

So my scorecard goes: Kristin Chenoweth, Neil Patrick Harris, Tina Fey, Alec Baldwin, and 30 Rock on the comedy side, and for drama Hope Davis, Aaron Paul, Glenn Close, Jon Hamm, and Mad Men. Wow, I didn't think I was so risky during my deliberation, but half of my picks are unlikely. Point of interest: this could be the first year the top awards repeat from the year prior, if Fey, Baldwin, 30 Rock, Close, Bryan Cranston, and Mad Men win again. I'm always pretty excited about the Emmys--with a finely tuned professional distance, of course--but this year saw some of the best nominations of the decade. How long till Sunday?

2009 Brandon TV Awards

It's Emmy week, but before I pretend to care about those nominees, I have to announce my favorite shows and performances of the 2008-9 television season. Place your bets!

My categories are no longer gender-segregated, which unfortunately limits the amount of honored greatness, but at least I don't have to pretend Sally Field's performance is one of the best of the year just to fill out a weak category. As for the year in television, we had a lot of good-not-great comedy seasons, so the race was and is extremely close in all categories. On the drama side, we had our usual suspects with the usual dilemma: which of the phenomenal ensemble performances makes the cut and which slip off into the democratizing force of unrewarded actors. Comedy's up first:

Best Supporting Actor in a Comedy:

Lizzy Caplan - Party Down. I've seen rumblings for Jane Lynch or Martin Starr, but Caplan won me over with her authenticity. The adage goes that acting in comedy is the same as acting in drama, and Caplan is a shining example. Plus, Mean Girls!

Eliza Coupe - Scrubs. Donald Faison almost made my cut, and maybe he should have over the newcomer, but Coupe basically singlehandedly breathed new life into Scrubs. The show was never as fun last year as when Jo/Denise was talking about her attraction to large men or cracking wise about a cancer diagnosis, and Coupe excelled at her comedic and dramatic scenes.

Portia de Rossi - Better Off Ted. A Jack Donaghy throwback, only with boobs and a drier wit, and never a false moment by Portia de Rossi.

Jenna Fischer - The Office. I said it before, but at this point Jenna Fischer is basically the co-lead, which is fine by me. She's always been the star of the supporting cast, and this year featured her art school, engagement, and Michael Scott Paper Company arcs.

Neil Patrick Harris - How I Met Your Mother. I had trouble deciding between Harris and Cobie Smulders, and then I started to think about Jason Segel (Alyson Hannigan had too much down-time), but Season 4 was the perfect spotlight on Harris, from Barney's pining after Robin to everything at GBN. We also met Barney's family, saw his resume, and witnessed his completion of the Murtaugh list, highlights of the season.

Tracy Morgan - 30 Rock. "Uh-oh, here come the rufies." I'm not sure why, but Tracy Morgan really became my favorite supporting 30 Rock player this year. He bought Lehman brothers, partied with interns, went on Larry King, bought up all of TGS' advertising slots, considered a prenup with Angie, tried to go into space, and took advantage of his life-size sex doll. Or am I?

The BTA goes to: Neil Patrick Harris for How I Met Your Mother. This was the hardest choice--Tracy Morgan may be my favorite, and Portia de Rossi may be the best--but Harris stole the show with his flexibility. Even though Barney's quite a sitcommy character, he has a wide range to pull off, and Harris excels. Think of his wandering legs while confessing to Lily his love for Robin. Or the deftness of his flip-flopping on the crush during "The Leap." Time will tell if the other two edge him out, but as of now, I don't see anyone matching the grounded broadness of Harris.

Best Lead Actor in a Comedy

Alec Baldwin - 30 Rock. Do I really need to explain this? To be honest, Baldwin's not been as solid this year, but clearly an off year for Jack Donaghy is still pretty exceptional.

Steve Carell - The Office. On the other hand, Carell has been pretty much the best thing about The Office in one of its most inconsistent seasons. Even his slapstick has been fairly believable this year, as when he tries to sneak-recruit his former employees after quitting Dunder-Mifflin, but it's the scenes with Holly at the beginning and end of the year that elevated the season.

Toni Collette - United States of Tara. Collette's performance is almost entirely dramatic, and when she's playing funny, it's normally not (see the character of Tee). But her dramatic work is so evocative, and, as I've said before, the highest compliment I can pay her is that each of her alters feels like a different person altogether.

Tina Fey - 30 Rock. Once again, Tina Fey gets a lot of crazy things to do, from dressing as Princess Leia to going on Vontella to discuss Deal-breaker, and she always scores the laugh. Plus, Mean Girls!

Matt Keeslar - The Middleman. It's tough to pick between Natalie Morales and Matt Keeslar, whom I recently discovered also starred in '90s indies by Christopher Guest and Whit Stillman, but ultimately I had to go with the Middleman himself. Not many people can pull off those catchphrases ("Fragments of moonrock!") and still seem cool.

Adam Scott - Party Down. Scott is surprisingly moving as the lost actor-turned-caterer, and his serious moments rival his sarcasm for the best part of Party Down.

The BTA goes to: Tina Fey for 30 Rock. Lest ye think I'm just blindly picking 30 Rock at this point (which isn't a bad idea, actually), grant me an observation: Tina Fey has one of the hardest comedy lead jobs on television. She has a central story every episode (unlike Zach Braff or Josh Radnor) where she often must play sharply opposing beats (unlike Alec Baldwin or Steve Carell). She pulls off all kinds of jokes, from urbane wordplay to barn-door slapstick (unlike Toni Collette or Adam Scott), and as crazy as she gets this season (in "Jackie Jormp-Jomp" or "Generalissimo"), she always manages to make Liz Lemon relatable (unlike Mary-Louise Parker). I'm not trying to slag these other fine performances, but I think people either blindly love the Palinator or dismiss her as not an actress without noticing how make-or-break her anchor role is for 30 Rock. And still she rises to the occasion. Tina Fey was an easy pick for me, the best comedy lead two years running, but that doesn't mean my admiration is blind.

Best Comedy:

30 Rock Season 3. Inconsistent--the least perfect season yet--but the highs ("Reunion") vastly outshone the lows ("The Natural Order"). Plus, Jackie Jormp-Jomp!

Better Off Ted Season 1. The best new show of the season had a few overall clunkers, but more often than not, Better Off Ted featured some of the best comedy writing, some terrific performances, and glorious non sequitur-laden ads for Veridian Dynamics.

How I Met Your Mother Season 4. As with 30 Rock, I think this season of How I Met Your Mother gets a bad wrap, not that there weren't a few duds (remember when I said this year had a bunch of good-not-great comedies?). But on the whole, How I Met Your Mother was one of the most consistently funny shows on the air ("The Naked Man," "The Front Porch," "The Three Days Rule"). On top of which, this season had some beautiful triumphs of sincerity: Marshall and Robin in "Little Minnesota," Ted and Stella in "As Fast as She Can," everyone in "The Leap." One quibble: I don't care when the Mother gets here, but constantly teasing her imminent arrival is getting old.

The Middleman Season 1. It came and went without anybody but critics noticing, but it was one of the most confident and ambitious, considering everything else on the air, comedies of the year. With a quirky nerd-vibe and a constant undercurrent of earnest warmth, however goofy and, uh, ABC Family The Middleman got, it was always enjoyable.

The Office Season 5. As I've stated elsewhere, I have a lot of problems with Season 5 that the rest of the universe overlooks. For starters there's the gradual degradation of the conceit and the increasing broadness (and unbelievability) of the characters, problems that I think are a lot more permanent and damning than those afflicting 30 Rock, How I Met Your Mother, or Scrubs. But ultimately, I still prefer The Office to more consistent shows that didn't make the cut, thanks largely to its two magical arcs this year, Holly Flax and the Michael Scott Paper Company.

The BTA goes to: 30 Rock Season 3. First, were I aiming for objectivity, I'd say Flight of the Conchords and Pushing Daisies both had basically flawless seasons and therefore deserved nominations, but neither show demands repeat viewing, unlike, say, 30 Rock or How I Met Your Mother. 30 Rock, though, is my favorite and the best comedy on television, largely thanks to the sheer versatility of its comedy: absurdism, social satire, wordplay, etc. The small and controlled doses of warmth, like the voice-mail scene in "Cooter" or the end of "Christmas Special," ground the wackiness without overschmaltzing like The Office, allowing 30 Rock to continue its streak as the funniest show on television.

Best Supporting Actor in a Drama:

Hope Davis - In Treatment. In Treatment had a phenomenal cast this season, but I'm only comfortable giving the series one slot. These are emotional powerhouses, but in a way, the concept of therapy limits the performance; the actors aren't living but talking about living, which is necessarily less full than a performance on a non-therapy show. At some point, In Treatment awakens my inner Baudrillard, and I despair that we're a step removed from life. Nevertheless, Hope Davis won the slot for turning what could have been an excruciatingly immature character into an engaging presence and, as you can see, impressively conveying so much, including competing emotions, with just her face.

Walton Goggins - The Shield. I don't want to ruin anything about the final and best season of The Shield, so let's leave it at this: Walton Goggins has always been award-worthy, but he's never been better.

Christina Hendricks - Mad Men. Season Two is the time of the Mad Women, and I'm just sad Christina Hendricks had the least to do of them. Through it all, Joan is a mesmerizing force, picking a place for the copier, dressing down Paul, facing Marilyn's death, confronting Roger, getting a taste of television work, and, horrifically, suffering Greg.

James Ransone - Generation Kill. As the motormouth chatterbox mother of the Hum-vee, James Ransone had perhaps the easiest job, stealing attention whenever possible, which is a testament to how effortlessly he realizes Corporal Person.

Alexander Skarsgard - Generation Kill. As the taciturn hero of the story, Skarsgard manages to make Sergeant Colbert understandable and multidimensional.

John Slattery - Mad Men. I've seen some grumblings about Slattery's Emmy nomination on the basis that he didn't do much last year. Aside from that not being true, Slattery is the definition of a supporting player. He had very few story arcs of his own, but gracefully contributed to storylines for Joan and Don, among others, never less than perfect. That man can nail a punchline.

The BTA goes to: Alexander Skarsgard for Generation Kill. First of all, this is by far the toughest category to winnow down to 6 nominees. I could nominate the casts of Mad Men, In Treatment, Generation Kill, The Shield, or Battlestar Galactica, so while these six rose to the top of my mind, plenty of others are nipping at their heels. But this category was decided last summer with another deeply authentic ensemble from David Simon and Ed Burns. Skarsgard leads the ensemble--though I wouldn't call him a lead per se--as Iceman, but the joy of his performance is how natural he is. There are a few big TV moments, but the majority of this seven-hour series lives in the minutiae of daily life, and Skarsgard winningly conveys a full human being. In short, this is one of the most lived-in performances of the television year.

Best Lead Actor in a Drama:

Gabriel Byrne - In Treatment. We spend way too much time with Byrne in the series, and I mean that as a compliment to his performance. Byrne makes his frustrations ours, and more often in Season Two than prior, he finds the lightness in all this dark.

Michael Chiklis - The Shield. It's an Emmy crime that former Best Actor Chiklis couldn't at least reap a nomination for his final season, especially given the epic events therein.

Bryan Cranston - Breaking Bad. How is Cranston so ferocious? Every time we start to like Walt White or at least empathize with him, he goes and pulls another heinous stunt. Season Two is a masterclass in pulp fiction (take that, Lost), and it all hangs on Cranston's unassailable work as a man incapable of getting his life together.

Jon Hamm - Mad Men. I have kind of an Alec Baldwin situation with Jon Hamm, only less so, which is to say that I found his work a hair less significant this year. This, largely thanks to the emphasis on the women and his tour de force in Season One. So Mad Men is a spoil of cinematic riches, and Jon Hamm's performance is an ambitious triumph in its regular inscrutability.

January Jones - Mad Men. Bedraggled and bereaved, Betty spends Season Two seeking independence and learning about truth, accordingly anchoring the season with her arc. Tremendously underrated, Jones is believable whether finding some modicum of peace in her new life or desperately clinging to her housewife facade.

Mary McDonnell - Battlestar Galactica. It's a shame this is the only acting nomination for Battlestar, but the last season was the least actor-ish of them all, by which I mean the story and philosophical pursuits took primacy over the performances. But Mary McDonnell was titanic, falling apart after the discovery of Earth, picking herself back up in order to quell a coup, and playing a key role in the odyssey's climax. And did I mention she's the best dramatic actress of the decade?

The BTA goes to: January Jones for Mad Men. Jones has received a fair amount of acclaim for her work on Season 2, but it still feels like a pet pick, probably because the Emmys nominated everyone else in the cast except for the breakout of the season. But January Jones' Betty Draper is a performance of staggering restraint. You believe every moment, even if it's just getting the kids ready for school, and when you learn about her upbringing ("conversation is an art"), you realize it's not a ret-con; Betty Draper has always been the product of that childhood. Of course, it's the last half of the season where Betty really shines, and it's thanks to January Jones that "A Night to Remember," the season's peak, is so heart-breaking.

Best Drama:

Battlestar Galactica Season 4, Part 2. Setting aside the ending for a moment, this is one of the most ambitious seasons of television. The first episode of this half-season was an ontological playground mixed with some good old-fashioned political philosophy. Lost pretends to have something to say by name-dropping Enlightenment philosophers; Battlestar's too busy finding the next provocative moral quagmire. Of course, it's best when the pulp is as satisfying as the substance, as in the coup arc or Starbuck's showcase, "Someone to Watch Over Me." Finally, Battlestar Galactica is, along with the AMC dramas, one of the best-directed shows of the decade. Too bad it'll never get the Emmy attention it deserves.

Breaking Bad Season 2. I said before that this is a masterclass in pulp fiction. As with In Treatment, the sophomore season saw the cast step up their game. The writers, too, found a way to focus on the most interesting aspects of the show, mostly cutting fluffy diversions with Skyler's sister or Walt's son. Then there's the guest cast, featuring incredible turns by Bob Odenkirk, John de Lancie, and Krysten Ritter. And that ending! Season One was pretty good, but Season Two is a worthy brother to Mad Men, together making AMC the site of the best television.

Generation Kill Miniseries. An epic in just seven episodes, Generation Kill features a cast as sprawling as or bigger than those featured in the best HBO dramas, and no exposition. As with The Wire, we gradually acclimate to the storylines and the jargon, and in the end, we feel the full, horrible force of the work. In short, Generation Kill is one of the essential films of the War on Terror.

Mad Men Season 2. It's exhausting inventing new adjectives to describe the sheer brillgasmic-ness of one of television's greatest drama seasons. Besides, I've written scads on the subject already (everything from the impeccable performances to the sound design of the hail during Bobbie's first tryst with Don). Suffice it to say Mad Men Season Two is as close to perfect as television should be, with more risk than Season One and a confident hand at the helm, guiding us through the ominous atmosphere to the inexorable, emotionally cataclysmic end.

The Shield Season 7. It's the best season of The Shield, with the first six seasons serving as mere prologue, putting all our players in place with all the proper agendas. Like Battlestar, I'm sad I couldn't find more room for acting nominations, specifically for my favorites CCH Pounder and Jay Karnes. And like Breaking Bad, The Shield is a monument of pulp fiction, with thematic implication to power a Starbucks discussion group from now until the next Thomas Pynchon.

The BTA goes to: Mad Men Season 2. If you happened to be on Mars for the past year, you probably missed my nonstop babbling about the greatness of this particular season, which is one of my favorite drama seasons ever (alongside the best of The Wire and Deadwood). Mad Men just fulfills everything on my hierarchy of television needs: surprising comedy and lived-in drama played by an expert ensemble, artful direction, confident storytelling, and Christina Hendricks. And then there's mystery. If ever there was a series that refuses to show all its cards, it's Mad Men.

So, to recap, BTAs were doled out sparingly to Neil Patrick Harris (How I Met Your Mother), Tina Fey (30 Rock), 30 Rock, Alexander Skarsgard (Generation Kill), January Jones (Mad Men), and Mad Men. I'll be back with my picks and predictions for the Emmys, but until then, feel free to discuss your own favorites.