Tuesday, June 26, 2007 Rant Archive
Chef Ramsay just wants you to do it (bleep)-ing right! Is that so much to ask?
He is such an appealing bully. All the swearing, all the humiliation, all the over-the-top theatrics go beyond the normal voyeuristic self-satisfaction of reality TV. He is training these wannabe chefs to be better than they are. He is placing a higher expectation on the poor humps to force them — through his shear willpower and demand for quality — to become efficient gourmet kitchen marshals. And, they still think it is just a game.
This week’s episode of HELL’S KITCHEN has one of the staples of the season: the palate test. Chef Ramsay brought the remaining hopefuls front and center for a team competition where the contestants were blindfolded and ear-plugged and made to identify three simple foods by taste and texture. A strong palate is an essential talent that will carry a lesser chef far in this show, as exampled in Season II by the nominally-gifted Virginia making it all the way to the finals. This week — surprise, surprise — the Blue team lost. They couldn’t buy a reward challenge at this point. Vinnie didn’t know what seared tuna tasted like, and Josh got all three of his samples wrong. You don’t want the fate of your team resting in the hands of the slack-jawed, vacant-staring, frosted-tipped Vinnie from Jersey. How is he supposed to know what seared tuna tastes like? He’s a chef at a Jersey night club. To him, everything must taste like Drakkar, bronzing cream and Aqua Net.
One of the many things I find fascinating about THE CLOSER’s Deputy Chief Brenda Johnson (Kyra Sedgwick) is how her face hovers just on the edge of locking her feelings away without ever quite making it. Whenever Chief Pope (J.K. Simmons) tells her something she doesn’t like, you can see the battle between forthrightness and her awareness of toe-stepping on that expressive mug of hers. People think Jim Carrey is the master of malleable features, but he could learn a thing or two from Sedgwick, who can make her face go from coquettish to froggy to hard-assed — all within the space of a few minutes.
This is all good, because it plays to THE CLOSER’s greatest strength: characters. There are shows more real, gritty, and in tune with their settings, but you’ll have to look long and hard to find any shows with more nuanced and complex characters, especially in Sedgwick’s faceted portrayal of the Georgia-belle-turned-CIA-interrogator-turned-LAPD-deputy-chief. Supporting characters rarely get short shrift on this show, and this week’s episode gives a couple of them a chance to stretch in new directions.
Can there be anything on TV as dramatic as organ transplant surgery and the lives of the professionals who spend their waking hours elbow deep in blood and guts? You might not want to rush your answer. Take a moment.
There’s something very important missing from HEARTLAND, the new TNT medical drama: drama. Yes, people, drama is missing from this drama. Those of you unfamiliar with the television industry may well ask, “Is drama really important in a medical drama?” Frankly, in my experience, drama may be the single most important ingredient in a medical drama. It is, in fact, largely what distinguishes it from, say, a medical comedy.
How can you have a drama that lacks drama? Asks the folks at TNT. Their ad slogan is “We know drama.” In this case, not so much. HEARTLAND is a show without conflict. Everything is resolved in so syrupy and sweet a manner that chocolate pales in comparison. Pales? By comparison, chocolate is an albino.
Where to begin? HEARTLAND is set in a major Pittsburgh transplant center. After a so-so debut, there appears to be hope in this second episode; it looks as though several significant moral and ethical dilemmas will be tackled.