WTF: That '70s Show Season 8

Welcome to the first installment of Waste That Film!, aka WTF. Where in I ask WTF (What the Frak) is up with WTF (Wasting that Film) or better stated as "why did you even bother?" Today, I have my sights set on That '70s Show's final season... The horrible season that it was.

Now, I must admit that I do, in fact, own the final season of this series, but that is more of my OCD kicking in over needing to have a show's complete series run. Shows that ended too soon are easy to keep track of, a la Arrested Development (but if you don't have all 3 seasons... you are wrong) but long series... You get to a point where you might as well just bite the bullet and dish out the cash for all 6+ seasons. And my saving grace with this particular season in question is that it was a Christmas present. So props to Poppa Larry for completing this series and contributing to my obsessive wallet-shrinking disorder.

I still remember watching the first episode of That '70's Show. I've seen the Pilot so many times that I can't tell you what exact scene from it I remember making me really enjoy it and wanting to continue watching it, but I do remember 2 thoughts:

1) Holy shit! The bad guy from Robocop is in this show!! BAD ASS!!

2) Holy shit! This show is awesome! Too bad it's on Fox and it will be canceled before the end of the season.

Fortunately I was wrong on Point 2 and we were given 7 quality seasons of pot jokes, good music and sex. And Mila Kunis and Hot Donna. The cast was likable, the story never got too repetitive and it was just a good old show that was nice to watch. I, like many, grew with Eric Foreman and his motley crew.


How you doin'!?!
Then the money came.

Ashton Kutcher and Topher Grace had a few movies up until that point, like Butterfly Effect (while I do not like Kutcher, he was perfect for that role) and In Good Company (wonderful movie) they got the bug and were both set to film The Guardian and Spider-Man 3, respectfully... and crapfully. So it was time for them to make their exit. Kelso was a disposable character, however Eric was the heart of the show. How would it survive?

The writers attempted to place a replacement character in the weeds at the end of season 7, but during the off season he was offered his own show. Instead, we were left with Seth Meyers' less funny brother, Douchebag Meyers.


I mean Josh, but Douchebag is much better suited.
After looking at Meyers' resume on IMDB, one must ask: Why the Frak would anyone enjoy this guy on screen!?! He was fired from MadTV... Let me repeat that so it can sink in... He was FIRED from MadTV. You don't have to be funny to be on MadTV, so I can't even imagine what one would have to do to get FIRED from that... thing. Then right before That 70's Show he was in Date Movie. I've never had thoughts of suicide in my entire life, but about 10 minutes after being drug into that movie, I was trying to fashion a noose from my Twizzlers and hoping that Sour Patch Kids were deadly if exposed directly to the brain through the nasal cavity. I held an all new appreciation for life after leaving that movie because that movie sucked balls. I hated cinema for a long time after that movie.

So, take that, subtract Eric's Vista Cruiser... but now we don't have an opening title sequence. Oh, I know, let's take one of the shows best cinematographic cornerstones and totally ruin it by making our cast dance there... and have people who have no business being in the "Circle" be there! Guh.

Then, the Jumping of the Jumping Shark (when a show totally loses it)... Donna and Eric break up off-screen for no good reason!?! Just so Donna and Douchebag can start up the sexual tension in the show!?! Hey writers... No! No! Stop it!

And finally, Fox got wise and canceled the show, but needed the big names to come back... So break up Donna and Douchey, and all is well because it will be 1980.. Whew! But it was too late. That '70s Show ended like a shit-flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean. Kinda like a Tootsie Roll at first, then green baby shit in your mouth. (No Comment)

So all in all, I would say that That '70s Show Season 8 was a total Waste of Film. A completely non-WTF ending would have seen Eric about to leave for Africa, saying goodbye to all his friends in the basement, walking up the stairs and turning off the lights.

And then the crew yelling at him because they are all still in the basement about to watch TV like nothing had changed.

Justin.tv: Screw you, anything I was doing today

I have found a new internet refuge, and it is justin.tv.  Head there.  I don't think it'll give you a virus -- don't even try to quote me on that -- but I don't even care.  It could give your computer chlamydia for all I know, but it's worth it.  

Welcome to your salvation, major networks.

That's right, Big 3.  It's time to accept a simple truth:  Nobody likes to watch broadcast TV anymore.  It's the end of scheduled creative broadcasting:  24/7 news networks are pure profit.  At some point, we have to ask ourselves why:  Is there something that important about the news that makes people tune in?  No.  It's the twenty-four hour, fuck-your-faceness of the Constant News Networks.    You don't have to schedule a thing on those channels, because news is never not happening -- it's disturbing, however, that the minutia of everyday life is starting to fill in the hours when really, there isn't that much news.  At least, not in this country.  (And you thought we gave a shit about -- where?  The Sudan?  It could be underwater for all you know.)  Mildly talented housepets and insane conspiracy theories dot the spaces between actual countrywide events.  It's like someone put YouTube on a 'Random' loop.

Which segues nicely into my next major point:  For TV to remain relevant, it's time to really turn to the internet.  

Justin.tv is the alpha prototype of something just that clever.  On the site, users broadcast whatever they want -- over 60 channels worth of material, broadcast 24/7, anywhere.  It's a media addict's wet dream, especially if you have a particular primetime fetish.  Want to watch Nicktoons?  Ever?  There's a channel for that.  A magical dimension with constant Star Trek:  The Next Generation and Twilight Zone marathons, any day of the year?  You live there.  

Granted, not everything is offered -- but that's where a little trust comes in.  NBC and Fox put theirs in Hulu, which has turned out fantastically for both of them.  What's CBS doing, exactly?  ABC?  (Probably drinking Mai Tais.  They're owned by Disney.)  A conglomeration of networks needs to snatch up this idea -- take Justin.tv, run polls, and find the top 25 or so shows to run in twenty-four hour marathons.  Take a commercial break every five minutes -- cut them to 30-45 seconds, too.  Let the sponsors name their price-per-viewer, and see what happens.

The use of new technology to prop up the old seems awfully ignorant to the truly forward thinking, I suppose; however the idea of new new media is one that needs a bridge.  Every innovation has its bridge.  On Demand entertainment is a hell of a thing, but you know what I'm not into?  Making stupid decisions.  I don't want to specify which episode of MacGyver to watch, I just want some household-product-rescue(-mullet) badassedness.  Throw one of those things up at random.  Is he using a paperclip this time?  He just might.

Justin.tv gives the channel surfers that still exist a very powerful tool:  Something is always on.  It's heaven.  You can jump in on any of these shows, but the promise is that you don't have to wade through even subber-par programming just to find that slightly shiny piece of crap.  Someone has a sifter, and it's all shiny crap.  5 channels of oldschool 80's action movies?  It's either that, or 24 hours of Seinfeld.  Which one am I more likely to watch while tolerating Charmin commercials?  

Maybe someday we'll be able to make TV decisions like OnDemand wants us to.  Right now, the bandwidth growth of the internet allows for a constant stream of hundreds of show-specific television channels.  And with over-the-air broadcast dying, an ad-based model will have to attract flies not just with honey, but honey-coated goldleaf diamonds.  With chocolate in the middle.  Chocolate filled with rainbows.  365 straight days of Scooby Doo will probably work.

For now, the site is wasted on the pirates, but with just small commercial injections, a semi-decent business model could spring forth.  Until then, we have a free source of constant, less-than-complete-shit programming that plays with no commercials.  Get into it now before it's bought up -- or shut down.

(And if it becomes trendy, tell them I told you about it way before it was cool.)

The Whys and Hows of Psych: Love the Pineapple.

Pop culture indulgences every thirty seconds: Check. As many 80's and 90's movie references as can be jammed into 44 minutes: Check. Countless iconic television and movie actors: Check.

So why, exactly, aren't you watching Psych?

Okay, yes, the show gets consistently high ratings -- During its original 2006 premiere and later, during the USA Network's idea of a season in 2008 (6 episodes, then more followed later in the year), the show had an average of about 6.1 million viewers. And all this from a Friday show -- Psych, like Monk before, has had no trouble crafting its brand as a staple on the basic cable network.

Consistently, though, when attempting to find someone -- anyone -- who has watched this show, I come up completely alone. James Roday and Dule Hill -- genius actor/writers in their own right -- steal the entire thing from moment one to moment end. I won't bore you with the details, but here's the overview:

Hyper-observational, son-of-a-supercop Shawn Spencer uses his trained powers of observation to solve crimes. To do so and still continue to slack off as much as humanly possible, he tells everyone he's psychic. And it works.

Three seasons in, the show has featured such former heavy hitters as Corbin Bernsen, Justine Bateman, Rachel Leigh Cook, Don S. Davis (god rest his fat, bald b-rated TV soul), George Takei, The amazing Richard Kind, Tim Curry, Gina fucking Gershon, Lou Diamond Phillips -- Yes,Stand and Deliver Lou Diamond Phillips, Kevin Sorbo, and most recently, Cybill Shepherd and Ally Sheedy. That's leaving out a few.

That list reads like a who's-who of who-should-be-retired-by-now. And here's what's interesting: I think most of them are retired. Bernsen, playing Shawn's father and original mentor, plays onscreen like the crew won't get off of his damn lawn. Shepherd makes her occasional appearance as Shawn's semi-estranged mother. Even she plays it like she has something better to do with every moment she's on screen, but a fierce connection to Roday's character tells you they picked the right one for the job.

Dule Hill, Shawn's best friend and (more often than not) abuse lackey, takes to a role like a Weeble -- he just can't be knocked down. Hill's improvisational skills, along with Roday's and half of the rest of the cast, are off the charts. I get the sense each episode is about two pages long, reviewed the night before shooting, and mostly forgotten by the time the cameras are rolling.

And the show is better for it -- Roday and the rest of the writing crew is a virtual Pop-Crap Library of Alexandria, calling up references so obscure you'd probably need a Bachelor's degree in 20th century entertainment just to understand them all. The show itself, from the Creator-and-head-writer-written theme song to the extreme hijinks in post-show outtakes, knows exactly what it is. This thing is made by Pop culture whores, for Pop culture whores, andabout Pop culture whores.

Our generation is practically aching for a show that will speak to us like this one can, and yet nobody my age seems to even know what it is. I love it. Every Friday I wait for the show, and I'm consistently surprised with how well written it is. The few times the show actually tries to serious the whole experience up, Roday and Hill are there to remind us that the point is levity. Spencer the character, of course, can operate in no other way; the show, too, has no option but to just take it easy.

Urban Man Children: Just like us.

NOW that I've rambled on for about a billion hours on why this show is genius, get your ass over to Hulu and watch it. There are five or six episodes up, none of which require any sort of back story, other than this: The main character is any one of us between the ages of twenty-two and thirty, provided you have at least the cast of The Breakfast Club memorized. The rest is moot. By the time the show is over, you'll be hooked.