Movie Maven

I've been disappointed in TV lately.

This is of course usual for summer, a period that becomes an endless circulation of pointless reality shows and sit-coms half-heartedly begun and then abandoned around mid-July. And there are few things actually worth watching on network TV anymore, in general. It was a fairly good season in '05-06, with The Office flourishing and Battlestar Galactica somehow managing to thrive in the wasteland of the Friday night lineup. The Daily Show is always a keeper, and The Colbert Report on afterwards has become a fantastic platform for Stephen Colbert's limitless talent. Law and Order: CI seems to have taken up the cop show slack that the original L&O has dropped in the last season after the still-painful death of Jerry Orbach/Lenny Briscoe. And though The Sopranos ended on a irritatingly boring note, it's still a revelation of the modern televised drama.

But most of these shows have left for summer vacation, forcing TV execs to fill the void. Summer programming for the most part has always seemed awkward, a little cheap, and thrown together. I'm not a reality show kind of girl (Project Runway being the exception- oh, how I loves the Santino) and if I have to sit through one more cop/sexy lawyer show I am most definitely going to hurl. Yes, it is a long, hot, barren summer in TV land.

Except for Deadwood.

An oasis in the desert of summer programming, Deadwood (Sundays, 9 p.m. HBO) has quenched my thirst for entertaining and thought-provoking television. Masterfully crafted for the past three years by creator and writer David Milch, the show about the infamous South Dakota town set during the Gold Rush takes the traditions and cliches of the western for a ride. The best factor by far is the dialogue, which is a mingling of undulating Shakespearean-inspired prose and unadulterated profanity. It's a sweeping epic of a show, with a massive, talented cast and fascinating historical sub-plots. Deadwood was created to show the development, and so-called civilization, of America in a microcosm.

For those unfamiliar with the history of Deadwood, it was mining camp in the South Dakota territory, a filthy, lawless place run by a handful of power brokers. The most powerful of these was Al Swearengen (Ian McShane) owner and proprietor of The Gem saloon and whorehouse. The entire cast of characters (which over the years has included Wild Bill Hickock, Calamity Jane, and Seth Bullock,) are wonderful, rich and intriguing, but it is McShane as Swearengen that captures the show and makes it what it is. He's one of the most well-defined, and complex characters I've ever seen, capable both of grotesque brutality and unbelievable mercy. He is funny and terrifying, intelligent but capable of making very serious mistakes in his business dealings. But most interestingly of all, Swearengen becomes integral to the evolution of the camp into a real town and its subsequent annexation to the United States. He does this determinedly, even though he knows it means the end of his reign as the leader of the camp. He is willing, even glad, to relinquish his authority to help make Deadwood what it could be. His affection for the camp, and his hopes for its future parallel those of the founding fathers, albeit he accomplishes his goals by slitting a lot of throats.

This season sees a threat to his plan, when historical mining mogul George Hearst comes to town with a thought to bend Deadwood and its leaders to his will. The first episode "Tell Your God to Ready for Blood" banged onto the screen, featuring a shoot-out in The Gem, Bullock beating the slimy E.B. Farnum to a bloody pulp and a shaky conspiracy between Bullock and Swearengen against Hearst. I've never seen an episode I haven't enjoyed, but this season is shaping up to be one of the most interesting and captivating I've ever seen.

And probably with good reason. Because HBO hasn't renewed it.

Deadwood is not a show to view idly. You cannot fold laundry or do your homework while you watch it. You have to sit and take it in, like a fine meal, focusing on each line, partly because of its innate beauty, and partly because it can sometimes be heinously confusing. So it is either abandoned for lighter, more accessible fare, or (in my case) it becomes an obsession, viewed several times throughout the week, scanned and analyzed and discussed with other true believers. Symbols and mundane details are picked apart with the intensity others reserve for Scripture or poetry. Characters are mourned in their deaths. Swearengen is worshipped as a demi-god. These are Deadwood people. Unfortunately, there just aren't enough of them.

Milch asked for four seasons in which to tell his story. He had a very specific plan, and an image of the time-frame he wanted for his show. But falling viewership combined with more money spent on another sweeping epic, Rome, has caused HBO to re-prioritize. The execs have given the go-ahead for an two two-hour film "episodes" completing the series, but it's just not the same. So while the tedium of Entourage and the truly ghastly Lucky Louie continue unabated, smart programming has once again been trumped for ratings. This is less common on the network, since it's based on subscriptions, but they still need viewers, and the large base audience just isn't there.

Of course since this was announced, Blogland and near-neighbor MessageBoardistan became riotous with protesters rising up against The Man to save the show. To no avail, probably, but if you'd like to join the resistance against the George Hearsts of HBO, visit savedeadwood.net or The Huffington Post, which are rallying supporters.

Deadwood will soon pass away to television heaven, though I have a sneaking suspicion that DVD sales might cause the tyrants at HBO to re-think their original decision. But until then, we can all have shot of whiskey every Sunday, as we watch a show about America in the making, toasting to Al Swearengen with a grand "Huzzah."

Photo courtesy of: St Petersburg Times