Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip
“This show used to be cutting-edge political and social satire, but it’s gotten lobotomized by a candy-assed broadcast network hell-bent on doing nothing that might challenge their audience. We were about to do a sketch you’ve seen already about five hundred times. Yeah, no one is going to confuse George Bush with George Plimpton. We get it. We’re all being lobotomized by this country’s most influential industry! It’s just thrown in the towel on any endeavor to do anything that doesn’t include the courting of twelve-year-old boys. Not even the smart twelve-year-olds – the stupid ones! The idiots – of which there are plenty, thanks in no small measure to this network! So why don’t you just change the channel? Turn off the TV. Do it right now. Go ahead. There’s always been a struggle between art and commerce, and now I’m telling you, art is getting it’s ass kicked, and it’s making us mean, and it’s making us bitchy. It’s making us cheap punks – that’s not who we are!”
I recently finished watching Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip for the second time through. Since its cancellation in 2006 it has been the Great Lost Series to me – the one that could have been special if only it had been given fair chance in the fickle, fickle world of American TV. I’d adored The West Wing from Day One right through to the end, but as with most fans, a little bit (in fact, a HUGE bit) of the soul of the show disappeared the day Aaron Sorkin walked out the door. But then we saw adverts for Studio 60 and it seemed all would be well.

I don’t remember how long into watching Studio 60 I knew that it was being cancelled. I think I had seen a few at least, but with the massive delay from America, the curtains had closed a long time before I saw all of the first and only season. So who knows if my glasses were already rose-tinted?
First seasons are rarely perfect. Even The West Wing has Mandy in it. I liked Studio 60 a hell of a lot first time round and maybe a bit of that was due to its underdog status, having been hyped to the heavens and then having the balloon popped on it virtually straight away. Now that time has passed I can probably see it with a more critical eye.
So why did it fail?
1) The fantasy land aspect that is usually inherent in Sorkin’s work simply didn’t play as well here. A hell of a lot of people want to believe in a president that is genius-level smart AND pure of heart, surrounded by a group of people only slightly less talented than himself. This doesn’t have the same impact for a late-night sketch show (and one that doesn’t look very funny).
2) Matthew Perry is very good as Matt Albie. I can’t fault him or his performance, but in a similar point to 1, he is Sorkin’s wank-fantasy version of himself, writing a 90-minute comedy show every week by himself, constantly being hailed as a genius (“Are you coming to save us?”) and still being endearing goofy, loveable and photogenically screwed-up.
3) The political(ly correct) aspect of the show were a little forced at times. The show’s attitude towards drugs was particularly fumbled. The cast and crew were all too prim and proper to indulge when we could see, but it was mentioned as though part of late-night comedy furniture. Not in this convent. The drug habits of note were Danny Trip’s (Bradley Whitford) cocaine addiction which set the plot in motion with Matt and Danny having to return to TV, but was otherwise unremarkable (not for a moment did you believe Tripp had gone through any kind of ’drug hell’) and Matt’s painkiller addiction which developed for a few episodes towards the end of the season but then stopped when he decided not to do it anymore. I’m sure Matthew Perry would argue that it is not quite that simple. Maybe a second season would have allowed these foibles to flourish, who knows?
4) The two biggest character failures for me were Simon Stiles and Tom Jeter as part of the “big three” stars of the show. Neither were ever shown to have any talent as performers in the show or convinced me as celebrities in that world. Tom had a pathetic weediness which was not convincing in that supposed calibre of star. He only became more likeable through his romance with Lucy and the naturally sympathy that came with his brother’s plight at the climax of the series. Simon was often the Faultless Black Guy that American TV defaults to sometimes and was prone to giving out short, declarative sentences that supposedly summed things up adroitly and cut through the crap by telling people what to do and what not to do. He grew up in the ghetto, therefore he can teach all these lame, pampered white people about the ‘real world’.
5) Jordan McDeere was a lot of things. Smart, sexy, witty to name just a few. But a convincing (there’s that word again) Network TV President? I don’t think so. Would a Network President really hang out at a late night TV all the time, ingratiate herself with the cast, allow herself to be seem to be remarkably vulnerable to all and sundry and indulge in a ridiculous food ‘addiction’ whilst being the size of a stick insect? 6) Another ‘West Wing’ comparison I’m afraid. In that show the characters were dealing with hugely important matters that affected peoples’ lives. They joked in order to diffuse tension and the responsibilities on their shoulders and were convincing smart in their witty banter. Somehow, ‘Studio 60’ doesn’t get the same free pass for everyone to speak in the identical banter-happy, pop-culture-referencing style. Yes, Sorkin’s dialogue is brilliant, but we should be able to tell the characters apart. And sending up the importance of a TV show whilst also emphasising how vital the show is, well just that highlights the irrelevance of all these dilemmas.
But yet there were lots of things I did like and love. The stories, while never death-defyingly vital were always entertaining and that Sorkin dialogue really is magnificent, quotable stuff. You feel like you want to sit there with a notepad and scribe it down for later. His slicing of this very blog-culture I’m indulging in right now is particularly well done. Matt and Danny were a very loveable duo (I didn’t find myself thinking of Chandler and Josh at all) and the heart-warming camaraderie that Sorkin can always evoke is very much evident here. His good-heartedness and love of teams (remind you of anyone?) shines through and it’s a hell of a lot more fun than the average CSI crap. Harriet Hayes and Jack Rudolph were two characters who I liked more and more as the show went on and the whole thing started and ended strongly. Who knows what a second season could’ve brought?

I had completely forgotten about Mandy Hampton. When I looked her up and began to recall her I remembered what an unpleasant character I thought she was. Sorkin can’t really do characters who haven’t got a heart of gold, can he? I guess that contributes to your observation that his characters having a dark side of any kind doesn’t really wash. Every single one of them in that cast photo is profoundly noble. I loved the show and I still love it now, but when you think how much Sorkin was projecting himself and his world into these ultimately unbelievably perfect people – so perfect you don’t even believe their shortcomings – it does seem a little sickly. Like you say, when you hear that exquisite dialogue and are inexorably won over by the heart of it all, it’s still a joy to behold.
crowth
July 9, 2009 at 11:49 pm