More on Hype in TV

We are all notorious for building things up in our minds and then being disappointed when those things--or related items--don't live up to our own hype. I've talked about hype some in the past, but it's important to note that so much of it is self-created. Sure, there's going to be plenty of hype for some of the big summer blockbusters at the multiplex this year, but if you're going to see the final installment in the Harry Potter series, it's likely not due to you seeing an ad on TV and thinking to yourself, "Oh, yeah, I should see that." You've either read all of the books and loved the movies, seen all of the movies and want to finish the saga, or some combination of those. Warner Bros. hypes the movie, but there are times when the merits of a piece of entertainment, standing by itself, are enough to make or break you.

But today, I once again talk of hype in TV. We're now three episodes into Game of Thrones, which has clearly managed to evade sagging ratings (that its most recent episode improved its nightly ratings on the same night that President Obama announced that the U.S. military had killed Osama bin Laden is almost breathtaking) and negative hype. Who knows if the ratings will go much higher, of course, but I imagine HBO will be fine with the numbers Game of Thrones is putting up. One hopes that more people get into the show by the end of the season, because while the first book in the Song of Ice and Fire series is great, dark fun, it comes off as much more of a slow burn in the episodic style. My main focus today, though, is not on Game of Thrones, which had hype of a major kind, but two long-dead and two new series, one of which has yet to premiere. The new series have levels of hype that Game of Thrones will never have--and is lucky to be free of such hype.

As I've mentioned in the past, I re-subscribed to HBO because I wanted to watch Boardwalk Empire before it came to Netflix roughly a year after its premiere. It didn't have to do with The Sopranos, a show that I...still have not watched. But a lot of people were going nuts for the very thought of Boardwalk Empire because it brought one of the older show's writers back to the network, because Steve Buscemi was an acting connection from one show to the other, and because both are about mobsters in New Jersey. Some people seemed disappointed, let down that such a show (with a pilot directed by Martin Scorsese, no less) wasn't the Second Coming. If there's any comparison I would make between Boardwalk Empire and a preexisting TV show, it's Mad Men. Both shows were created by ex-writers of The Sopranos, both shows are set in a unique past time period, both shows are stunning to look at in high-definition, and both are dark dramas with a massive ensemble cast.

Now, don't get me wrong: while I very much enjoyed the first season of Boardwalk Empire and anxiously await its return, it was, indeed, NOT the Second Coming. The difference between me, it seems, and a lot of viewers is that I was never expecting it. I know that HBO put a lot of money behind the marketing for the show--as well they should have--but I was never put off by the show not being The Sopranos in the Prohibition. What the show offers me (and what it offers anyone willing to accept that their notions of what a show is can differ from what the show actually is) includes a slew of great performances, a dynamic and colorful period setting, surprising story arcs, and sharp, snappy dialogue and direction. Hopefully, some viewers have learned their lesson and are willing to open up their minds to different enactments of what the Mob was like in New Jersey.

What I'm most worried about is not following this edict when it comes to an all-new HBO drama that is, for me, the very definition of can't-miss television. When you hear that Steve Buscemi is starring in a pilot directed by Martin Scorsese, about the Prohibition-era Mob, from a longtime writer on The Sopranos, airing on HBO, you know it can't miss. How can such a show fail in any way? The same goes for Luck. If you haven't heard, the show is set in the world of horse racing in California. It stars Dustin Hoffman, Nick Nolte, Dennis Farina, and others. The pilot was directed by Michael Mann, and the show was created by David Milch, formerly of NYPD Blue and, most importantly, Deadwood. Here, again, is the definition of can't-miss TV. How can this show not be awesome? It's here that I remind you of this key fact: in my opinion, Deadwood is the best TV drama ever. Yes, I know: I've not finished The Wire and I've only seen the pilot of The Sopranos. While I know I can't speak for the latter, after having watched the first three seasons of The Wire, I know this much: it's a great show, clearly. But it's not on the same level of pitch-perfect entertainment, of high and low drama, as Deadwood, which often gets short shrift among most TV fanatics because it didn't get a chance to run its full course thanks to some contract disputes between HBO and Paramount Entertainment. It's a creative crime that the show didn't get to see its proper ending, but the 36 episodes spread over 3 seasons that exist are among the best TV has ever offered.

Is there a better cast of characters than the ones in Deadwood? While some shows have come awfully close, for the life of me, you can't beat people like Al Swearengen, Seth Bullock, Sol Star, Dan Dority, Alma Garret, Trixie, A.W. Merrick, E.B. Farnum, and the rest of the denizens of this Old West outpost. The show is, yes, notoriously and gloriously profane, but it's nothing short of a modern-day attempt at Shakespeare. David Milch is a strange poet of a TV writer, and due to my undying love for Deadwood, there's just about no way I'm not going to watch every episode of Luck. I know that Milch's last show, John From Cincinnati was a failure for most people (I'm almost scared to watch it), but Luck seems like it's right in his wheelhouse. I just need to remind myself: don't buy into the hype. Ignore the hype. Fingers crossed that the show's good enough that I don't need to remind myself.