By Sabrina Cognata
After watching Thursday’s pilot of “Big Shots” I have been confronted with one of my greatest fears—even men know they are acting like girls. I guess all that’s left for me and women like myself to do is stage a massive genocide with the hopes of cleansing the gene pool of every last one of these sad, pathetic gender confused XY chromosome carriers.
We’re immediately confronted with our pathetic main characters, Duncan Collingsworth (Dylan McDermott) is busy banging his ex-wife, Lizabeth, (Paige Turco) in the wine cellar of a his country club. Both Duncan and his ex-wife seem surprised by how hot the sex is when Lizabeth tells him his daughter has dropped out of college & he probably should talk to her about it. Uh, thank Lizabeth for being the gender neutral character here and not bothering with acting like the set type cast for women, I am sure that producers will make sure that Duncan does that enough for everyone.
In the same way, we’re introduced to the other main characters, Brody Titus (Christopher Titus), James Auster (Michael Vartan), & Karl Mixworthy (Joshua Malina). These sycophantic megalomaniacs sit around complaining about how complicated their lives are, and most importantly their love lives. Kill me now. The premise for the pilot goes like this: Poor James’s boss drops dead when he is run over by a golf cart rushing to deliver shrimp to Brody for his demanding-as-hell wife. Boo Hoo. The thing is, right before Old Man Asshat meets his untimely demise he tells James he is going to get canned in the morning while holding the sort of diamond necklace that would have made Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell his best friends.
Now that James’s job is saved we’re introduced to the fact that Karl in all his executive glory has been schtooping a stacked blonde interior designer that wants to be treated just like his wife. And by just like his wife, she demands Karl attend couples therapy with her.
Anyways, the boys are at lunch and everyone’s bitching and moaning about their problems when Duncan drops the bomb that he got busy with a tranny in a bathroom at some Yonkers truck stop, got caught by the cops in the middle and was arrested. This sounds like a regular Saturday night for me. Anyways, the guys decide they have to find this tranny and silence her in the form of paper currency with dead president’s faces on it. Amen.
In the meantime, James discovers his wife, the love of his life is just a regular cheating old whore and she was sleeping with his boss (yes, everyone here is sleeping with everyone else, are you following along?) and Karl’s mistress shows up at his house and decides to befriend his wife. Yes, exactly, the old I’m going to make you wife my best friend so your face explodes and you have a massive aneurysm from the shock trick. Anyways, the guys converge at the country club to call themselves the NEW WOMEN and I gagged on my own vomit. Sorry, but women are infinitely cooler than these idiots.
Regardless, Brody & Duncan go in search of this tranny, Dontrelle (Jazzmun). He-she shows up at Duncan’s office where Duncan’s bratty, bitchy daughter finds him-her and takes him to Brody’s wife’s birthday party, conveniently being thrown at the stupid country club. Oh for tranny’s sake! While this fiasco is going on James decides to have a little heart-to-heart with his super-slut wife and tells her he can never forgive her. Good thing too because it turns out that James got promoted and was offered his dead boss’s job as chairman of the board.
Duncan throws money at Dontrelle and tells him-her to forget they ever had sexy times together, for a measly thousand dollars. Uh, sorry buddy, but if you’re the chairman of a cosmetics company it is going to cost way more than a grand to silence my double-gender mouth. Dontrelle’s two-faced tranny ass agrees, but then leaves the party and delivers a recording device to a sleazy female reporter saying he-she taped the entire conversation between him-herself and Duncan. OH THE CONTRAVERSY!
Maybe I am convoluted and crazy (probably I am both), but am I missing the point of this show? The dialogue seems forced and contrite and the characters seem too narrowly defined within the constraints of the type-casts they are supposed to be playing. The over-the-top plot twists are nowhere near intriguing enough to keep this show afloat and men everywhere should shoot themselves in the face or maybe just the producers because of the way they’re being depicted. Seriously though, tell me I am wrong if you disagree. I dare you.