“Swingtown” Adds Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n Roll to Staid CBS

[NOTE: The following article will also appear as my regular television column for WILDsound.]

When you think of CBS, you would be forgiven for thinking of old people watching “NCIS.” While it’s true that the Tiffany Network does offer enough police procedurals to fill a precinct house and features viewers with an average age qualifying them for AARP membership, if you look deeper, you will note that from time to time, CBS takes a chance, like with the innovative sitcom “How I Met Your Mother.” But with the debut of “Swingtown” (Thursday, 10 p.m. Eastern), the network has gone further out on a limb than it has ever climbed before. And based on the premiere episode, CBS just might be onto something.

The debut begins with what you are supposed to believe is a woman performing oral sex on a wife-beater-clad pilot. As I said, this is not your grandmother’s CBS. Soon it is revealed that the woman is a flight attendant cleaning spilled coffee off of the pilot’s shirt. It’s not long, though, before “Swingtown” offers scenes every bit as titillating as the opening pretends to be.

“Swingtown” follows several couples and their children in a Chicago suburb during the stereotypically swinging year of 1976, pre-AIDS, pre-Betty Ford Center and pre-Ronald Reagan (and his Meese Report on pornography). At the hub of the group is the pilot, Tom Decker (Grant Show of “Melrose Place”), a Matthew McConaughey-like slacker charmer, and his wife Trina (Lana Parrilla, “24”), who spends most of the episode in revealing outfits and more revealing bathing suits. The hapless flight attendant in the first scene of the premiere ends up going back to Tom’s house for a three-way with Tom and Trina. Trina is a bit jealous, not because Tom has brought another woman into their lives. No, she is an advocate of their open marriage. The problem with the stewardess is her age. “Try to keep it in our age bracket,” she tells him when he asks if she’s jealous.

Our entree to the decadent world of the Deckers is through Bruce and Susan Miller (Jack Davenport of the English “Coupling” and Molly Parker of “Deadwood”), who are riding Bruce’s newfound financial success to a move to the more posh environs inhabited by the Deckers, a few minutes from where they live now. Early on we see that Jack is clueless about Susan’s dissatisfaction with him, sexually and otherwise, so it’s not a surprise when things unfold later. Susan can also be caught looking dewy-eyed at Roger Thompson (Josh Hopkins, “Ally McBeal”), the husband of her best friend/clinging stalker Janet (Miriam Shor, “Big Day”), a judgmental prude. The less-monied Janet is none too happy about her best friend leaving the neighborhood, so much so that she makes her a scrapbook as a parting gift, which I guess in the eight-track era is akin to a mix tape.

The kids inhabit a universe of their own. The Millers’ daughter, Laurie (Shanna Collins), is a confident high school AP student who knows her boy-toy boyfriend is a moron (the kid is like a younger McConaughey, making me think he was going to turn out to be Tom’s son, but he isn’t) and is equally adept at charming her young summer school teacher as she is convincing her mother that she’s not sexually active (even though we find out later that she is), and their son B.J. (newcomer Aaron Christian Howles) is smack in the middle of puberty, ogling Penthouse magazines with his best friend, the Thompsons’ son Rick (Nick Benson, “Summerland”), an awkward nerd who lies about fooling around with a girl in his class, who later beats the living daylights out of him. B.J. eventually becomes infatuated with Samantha Saxton (Brittany Robertson of “Dan in Real Life”), who often takes refuge from her coke-addled mother Gail (Kate Norby, “Boston Public”) in the vacant house the Millers are about to move into.

After ogling their new neighbors like starving people looking at a barbecue filled with steaks, the Deckers invite the Millers over for a party. When the Thompsons show up just before the Millers are about to leave, Susan, feeling guilty for the pathetic Janet, invites them to come along. The party is the centerpiece of the premiere, as Trina and Tom expertly lure and seduce Susan and Bruce, all while debauchery goes on around them. In a great moment, Janet, frantically looking for Susan, is instead directed by Trina to the basement, where we’ve learned earlier the “playroom” is located. Janet’s reaction upon seeing the group sex is to stalk outside and demand that the Millers leave with her that instant.

Only, the Millers like it there, and you get the feeling it’s for a lot more reasons than the Quaalude Trina gives Susan. Bruce says they're staying, and Susan smiles in approval. Janet, flummoxed beyond repair, stomps off, only to let out her rage (or is it sexual energy?) with a frantic scrubbing of the inside of her oven (no, that’s not a euphemism).

It might seem like picking on Janet is mean-spirited, but Janet is such a shrew, you want to cheer when Trina directs her to the playroom. Janet is short and dismissive with her ever-suffering and seemingly kind husband, apparently for no other reason than that he doesn’t make enough money. He’s a good enough lug and is patient with her, but she treats him with disdain. You can understand why Susan would have a crush on him.

“Swingtown” reminded me of my experience watching “Mad Men” for the first time, in that both shows took much pleasure in evoking the era in which the shows are set. “Mad Men” delighted in laying out situations that were normal for 1960, but which would be unfathomable today, from the rampant smoking and sexual harassment in the office, to kids being allowed to roam freely inside a large car without a seat belt in sight.

“Swingtown” is more interested in just showing off the wackiness of 1976, jamming in as many period references as it can, like a passenger smoking on a plane, a woman removing the pop top from a can of Tab, the celebrations of the Bicentennial, and Janet complaining about how expensive 88 cents was for a pound of ground beef. Nowhere is the 1976 giddiness more apparent than in the soundtrack, a wall-to-fall offering of music from the era. It makes the use of pop songs in most 1980s teen movies look subtle by comparison. (It didn’t help that there were frequent on-screen ads telling us we could listen to the soundtrack on lastfm.com, which, shock of all shocks, is a sister company to CBS.)

In my review of “Mad Men” last year, I wondered if the show would be able to sustain its interest after the shock value of its 1960s anachronisms wore off. Turns out, the show only got better with time, blossoming into one of the best one-hour dramas on television.

I have the same concern about “Swingtown.” The episode, written by series creator Mike Kelley (“Jericho”), is smart, with more than a few sharp lines and characters you want to see more of (literally and figuratively). And the locations, wardrobe and cinematography are visually striking, looking more like an HBO show than a network drama starring a guy from “Melrose Place.” So I’m inclined to think that “Swingtown” is more than just a product of its quirky period details and copious amounts of broadcast network-challenging sex and drug use, and has a chance to develop into a worthy series.

But I can’t help asking if the sex and drugs -- more accurately, seeing scenes on broadcast television that you are not used to seeing in that context -- are clouding my vision. Laurie strips to her panties and skinny dips in the ocean after giving her himbo boyfriend the heave-ho. The sexual tension between Laurie and her teacher is palpable. Gale scrapes the last bits of her cocaine onto a mirror, and then proceeds to respond to an introduction to Susan by saying, “You got any coke?” By the time we see Susan and Bruce, naked under a sheet, enjoying the last seconds of coupling the morning after their first swinging experience, it’s not even shocking, coming on the heels of the three-way and orgy we’ve already witnessed. Hell, when Trina goes for a morning dip in a bikini near the end of the episode, it almost feels like she’s over-dressed. Throw in the pot smoking and the teenage girl beating Rick until he’s bloody, and you have a ton of sensory overload to deal with.

But I think I have a good idea of why “Swingtown” will be just fine, even as the shock value of the debauchery wears off. After Gale meets Susan and leaves the room, determined to find more coke, Trina casually tells Susan that Gale is “harmless, miserable but harmless. I keep saying they should open up their marriage like everyone else, but her husband is a little uptight.” The smartest element of the show is that the viewer’s knowledge of what happened in the years after 1976 forms an essential piece of the program’s emotional impact. We know now that cocaine isn’t “harmless,” and that while there are still couples who enjoy swinging, the practice no longer has a kind of idealistic, post-Woodstock appeal as a way to save a marriage.

Which why watching “Swingtown” does not feel voyeuristic (at least not completely). Everything is viewed with the hindsight of history, so you’re not watching peers, but relics from an earlier, perhaps more innocent, time.

If you think about it, CBS’s older viewers are the ones who actually remember the “Swingtown” era. For them, the show is nostalgia. So maybe it’s not such a bad fit for the network, after all.

In any event, “Swingtown” is certainly worth a try, certainly on its own merits, but also to encourage CBS to take more chances in the future. The world has enough police procedurals.

Senate Report on White House Distortions on Iraq Well-Timed to Media Reform Conference

There are very few epiphanal experiences in one's life, but last weekend, I had one, when I attended the National Conference for Media Reform in Minneapolis.

The event, staged every 18 months by the organization freepress, brings together leading media experts from the fields of journalism and politics to give presentations on a variety issues related to the dangers posed by a small handful of large corporations controlling the flow of information to the public. The concern is that since these media conglomerates (often referred to simply as "Big Media") are not primarily concerned with serving the public interest, but instead take as their marching orders the maximization of profits and the maintenance of its influence over the government, citizens are deprived of a meaningful flow of information on which to base important decisions, such as who to vote for and what policies to support.

As much as Fox News would have you believe otherwise, freepress is a nonpartisan organization, and the conference did not allow the endorsement of any political party or candidate. Surely, most of the attendees had a progressive bent to their politics, but that says more about the liberal and conservative ideologies and how they view the battle over whether government should be serving corporations or the people, than it does about any partisan intentions of freepress. I'm not sure Howard Dean or any other Democratic Party leader would have been happy with the remarks of many of the speakers and questioners at the panels and presentations. There was a constant current of healthy skepticism that a Democratic Congress working with a Democratic president would actually embrace the steps necessary to enact real change in the media world.

In fact, the conference was all about getting past the petty partisan bickering exhibited by the Fox Newses of the world and concentrating on important media issues that affect the American democratic process. That didn't stop Bill O'Reilly from slamming Bill Moyers and Dan Rather for speaking at the conference. In fact, when an O'Reilly producer tried to ambush Moyers as he was leaving, the veteran journalist showed why he is so revered as he turned the tables on the poor sap, winning the confrontation by a clear knockout. And it was all caught on tape. (You can watch raw footage of the whole thing here, and Keith Olbermann did a fun little piece on it, which you can see here. I recommend the Olbermann version.)

What's the big deal about Big Media controlling what we see and hear? Well, coincidentally, shortly after arriving home from the airport last night, I turned on "The Daily Show," only to see Jon Stewart do a story on this very issue. You can watch the relevant clip here:



In a nutshell, Stewart notes (far more comically than I ever could) that a U.S. Senate committee released a report last week that found that President George W. Bush, Vice President Dick Cheney, and other high-ranking administration members in the run-up to the Iraq war "distorted the facts, or said things that were not supported by the facts, [or] said things they knew or should have known were not true," and yet, the mainstream media barely covered it. It didn't make the CBS or ABC evening news telecasts, and didn't appear on the home pages of CNN.com or FoxNews.com. NBC mentioned the report's existence without providing a single detail.

At the conference, I saw excerpts from the film "War Made Easy," which is based on a book by media critic Norman Soloman, who spoke on a panel. The documentary shows in stark detail how the mainstream media did nothing to challenge Bush administration assertions about Iraq during the critical period leading up to the war in an effort to protect their bottom lines. A series of news clips showed how one reporter after the other parroted the Pentagon's talking points without challenging them in the least. None of this should be surprising in light of the New York Times report on April 20 that the Pentagon had trained retired military officials to pose as unbiased experts on news shows in the run-up to the war.

Former Bush press secretary Scott McClellan, in his recently released book, made the same point, saying the media was complicit, by not investigating the White House's claims, in the administration's efforts to deceive the American public into getting behind the war.

That is why the timing was so perfect to see the Stewart piece on the night I arrived home from the conference. The decision on whether or not to go to war is one of the most morally and politically difficult choices a nation has to make. Citizens are being asked to send their sons and daughters into harm's way. Thousands could be killed, tens of thousands could be wounded, and hundreds of thousands could have their lives disrupted (financially, psychologically, etc.), sometimes beyond recovery. All of which actually happened in Iraq. And the nation's reputation and place in the world, really the very nature of what a country stands for, was at stake.

So the media's failure to challenge the government's use of false information to trick the American people into supporting the war in Iraq is indefensible, from the point of view of maintaining a viable democracy. And the reason that Big Media failed in this regard is directly related to the the flow of information being limited to a few sources, all of whom are financially entangled with the government.

Iraq was only one glaring example of the perils of media consolidation. One speaker discussed how when 1,200 radio stations dropped the Dixie Chicks from the airwaves after the trio's lead singer said she was ashamed that the president was from Texas, those 1,200 stations were owned by only two entities. Another speaker told the story of a chemical factory explosion in Minot, N.D., and how word about the tragedy could not be broadcast that night on any of the city's six or so radio stations, because all were owned by one or two national companies, who used canned broadcasts originating from locations well outside of Minot.

That was how the conference went. A parade of distinguished presenters, including a U.S. Senator (Byron Dorgan), members of the U.S. House of Representatives, two sitting FCC commissioners, university and law school professors, and leading journalists (such as Moyers, Naomi Klein and Dan Rather), took the stage to make the point of how important a free press is to the functioning of a democracy. Several of them noted that aside from the legal profession, the press is the only occupational field expressly protected in the Constitution.

(You can watch Moyers's rousing address here. It is also available on the freepress home page and the conference home page.)

The conference served as a call to action for me, reminding me how far things have deteriorated in this area and how important it is that citizens stand up and be heard. I was heartened at hearing about how the U.S. Senate, in an overwhelmingly bipartisan vote, moved to overturn a decision by the FCC last year to get rid of the last shred of media cross-ownership limitation, involving owning newspapers and television stations in the same city. The House will take up the measure, and although Bush has promised to veto it, there is a chance Congress has the votes to override him. Either way, the message of the Senate was clear enough that no company has tried to make use of the new rule since the FCC promulgated it.

I started out this piece by saying that the conference was an epiphanal moment for me. Sure, I've always been concerned about issues regarding the ineffectiveness of the modern mainstream media and the insincerity of the administration. After all, I've been writing this blog for well more than a year. But the conference served so many purposes for my development, teaching me more about media reform, introducing me to the experts and the field, and, most importantly, allowing me to hone in on what the real overriding questions are in the field, not to mention the severity of the stakes, that I walked away with the knowledge that I had to stay on this issue and educate as many people as possible about it.

As I write in the coming weeks and months, I feel like I will be a new blogger. There will be the pre-conference Mitchell Bard, and the post-conference Mitchell Bard, one who is better informed and more focused. I'm sure this article won't be the last my readers hear about the 2008 National Conference for Media Reform. I think that's a good thing. In the time ahead, I hope you agree.

“Million Dollar Password” and “The Moment of Truth” Reflect Modern TV Trends

[NOTE: The following article will also appear as my regular television column for WILDsound.]

If some physical evidence was needed of how sensational and crass modern television has become, one only had to watch the debuts this week of “The Moment of Truth” (Fox, Tuesdays at 8 p.m. Eastern), back for a second season, and “Million Dollar Password” (CBS, Sundays at 8 p.m. Eastern), the latest incarnation of the classic guessing game.

“Truth,” which returned to Fox on May 27, would have to be included on any list of the all-time most vile network television programs. Host Mark Walberg (not the former Marky Mark) may be hitting a career low, which is saying quite a lot considering that his past work includes emceeing such fine broadcast offerings as “Temptation Island” and “Joe Millionaire.”

Prior to going on the air, a “Truth” contestant answers 50 questions while being measured by a polygraph. Then, with the cameras rolling, Walberg asks the contestant some of the questions, all with several friends and family members sitting onstage. As long as the contestant tells the truth, he or she keeps on a path to win more and more money. A female voice that sounds disconcertingly like the computer in “Star Trek: The Next Generation” reveals if the person is telling the truth or not.

As you can imagine, the questions are not about favorite baseball teams and casserole recipes. On this season’s premiere, Curtis Frank, who looked like Patrick Bateman’s little brother, was asked, among other things, if he had watched gay porn, thought his best friend had hit on his ex-girlfriend, lied about having been tested for a sexually transmitted disease, had sex after hours in his family furniture shop, stole from the family business, and cheated on his ex-girlfriend, all while the ex-girlfriend, his brother, his best friend, and his mother sat less than 10 feet away from him.

Frank, barely relating any sense of shame, answered all the questions, regardless of the repercussions, until he racked up $100,000 in prizes. But at what cost? Well, his admission about cheating on his ex-girlfriend came one question after he admitted that he still had feelings for her. Frank, with the eager assistance of the show, raised the poor girl’s hopes, only to dash them to pieces minutes later. She sat on the stage, obviously devastated, no longer talking much and seemingly trying to hold back an onslaught of tears. You could argue that any woman who thought that this sleazeball was someone worth dating, and who was surprised at his infidelity, was only reaping what she sowed. But that does not absolve us, as viewers, from ogling her as she is being crushed.

And what about Frank’s mother? In an early question, he admits that he relies on money from her to pay his mortgage, and how does he thank her? By dragging her onto a stage to be humiliated on national television. She sat by as Frank made revelation after revelation that was upsetting to her. After Frank reached the $100,000 level and was debating whether he should go further, his mother, nearly in tears, quietly and sadly said, “I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.” Sorry, but that horse already left the barn.

What kind of person agrees to go on television knowing that his or her darkest secrets will be revealed, usually resulting in the public humiliation of the person’s loved ones? There has to be an easier way to pocket some dollars. And why do the friends and family members agree to be a part of this sadistic experience? They don’t even have the chance to win any money! Most importantly, why do we want to watch? These shows are like emotional NASCAR races: Audiences tune in to see the carnage.

I realize that television is littered with the corpses of a flood of manipulative and exploitive offerings, like “Fear Factor,” “Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire?” and “Wife Swap,” so I’m not sure why I was so shocked and offended by “Truth.” The fact that we, as a consumer culture, embrace crappy reality programs is a bit embarrassing to me. But “Truth” takes its to another level. I’m ashamed that this show airs and, even worse, gets good ratings.

Watch if you must, but don’t plan on keeping any of your self-respect.

By the time “Million Dollar Password” debuted on Sunday, I was ready for a little nostalgia. For those of you who may not remember, “Password” was a long-running, popular game show that debuted as a daytime offering on CBS in 1961, before a prime-time edition launched the next year that ran for three seasons. (That’s six episodes of “Password” a week, all hosted by Allen Ludden.) The daytime version, in its original form, ran until 1967, and then ABC aired the show in substantially the same format from 1971 to 1974. The rules were simple: Two contestants were paired with celebrities and took turns trying to get their partners to guess a word by giving one-word clues.

(As an aside, “Password” figured prominently in one of the funniest episodes of “The Odd Couple,” when Oscar and Felix go on the show. If you ever see that it is going to be aired, be sure to watch or record it. Alas, it is not available on DVD yet.)

“Password” was as much about the interactions of the celebrities and their partners as it was about the game, especially since the prize money was negligible. Like many of the game and panel shows of the era, there was a certain laid-back nature to the proceedings, and you felt like you were at a really cool cocktail party, the kind you would never be invited to in real life.

The show was revived as daytime programming twice in the 1970s and 1980s, first as “Password Plus,” and later as “Super Password.” In these editions of the game, the passwords were clues to a puzzle, and a bonus round was added for the winner in which significantly more money could be won.

When I read that the game was coming back to television again, this time as “Million Dollar Password,” I was curious how much of the original format would be retained. Would this just be “Password Plus” with bigger prizes? Or would there be more? The answer, really, is both.

The game, at its core, is pretty much the same. Two contestants team up with celebrities (in the debut, they were Rachel Ray and Neil Patrick Harris) and try and guess five passwords in 30 seconds. After each person gets a chance to give the clues, the celebrities switch sides and play the game again. The person with the most correctly identified words wins and goes on to a bonus round.

Here is where the game changes. The new bonus round incorporates the modern structure of escalating prizes, with a risk in trying to advance to the next level (same as “The Moment of Truth,” too). First the contestant tries to get five out of 10 words in a minute and a half for $10,000, with steps escalating to $1 million, and each level a bit harder (five out of nine, five out of eight, etc.).

The game rules are fine. What is really different about “Millionaire Password,” though, is the production approach. It’s all 21st century effects, with a constant stream of synthy music and flashing lights (straight out of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire”) while the game is being played. And the pace is breakneck, with only seconds separating the teams’ turns.

It’s as if the producers of the show are saying to the audience: “We know you’d get bored with the game like it used to be, so we’re going to make it seem more exciting than it is by pumping up the music and lights and rushing through it like we’re double parked.” If you don’t have faith in the game, then why put it on the air? I really don’t think the bells and whistles are going to draw viewers on their own. People watch game shows (or don’t) because of the contest itself. If the game works, then up the prize money to a million bucks and let it roll. The mish-mash of this simple, old-fashioned game with the sleek, speedy presentation is disconcerting.

The producers must have figured, if you’re going to steal the production design of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire,” then why not steal the host, too? And “Millionaire Password” does just that, with Regis Philbin taking the reins. But it’s not a great fit. When the game is flying by, poor Reege seems overwhelmed, trying gamely to keep up with his lines on the teleprompter as they fly by. Somehow, he also seems a little bored by the proceedings, just kind of regurgitating his old “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” vocal inflections (“one million dollars!”).

Even though “Millionaire Password” does not quite hang together, it’s still not a bad show. Both Ray and Harris were engaging as guests, with Harris especially clever in his jokes. And the game is more fun than the producers think it is. I liked the risk element added to the bonus round. When a Rhode Island bartender, who had all his possessions stolen, risked $100,000 to reach the $250,000 level, only to fall one answer short (he ended up with the safe amount of $25,000), it was a dramatic moment, one that didn’t need flashy lights or music to elicit a reaction from viewers.

There are worse ways to pass an hour on a Sunday night than watching “Millionaire Password,” even with the hyped-up elements. The show is fun enough and certainly harmless.

Which is more than I can say for the exploitive “The Moment of Truth.” If an alien culture decides to observe us, I hope they don’t judge us by “Truth.” If they do, we’re in as much trouble as the beleaguered friends and family members of the show’s contestants.