Fantasy Island (90s style) Ep. 1
Dec. 16th, 2008 01:57 amI did, I did detect a whiff of Pushing Daisies in this! Barry Sonnenfeld, to be precise. But while PD has some of the wittiest writing on television for geek cred, this is just... empty, soulless whimsy. Everything is pointlessly mystical and a little forced.
Backstory: In the 90s, one of the networks decided to do an update of Fantasy Island, this time swapping out benevolent do-gooder Richardo "rich Corinthian leather" Montalban for agent of Lucifer Malcolm McDowell. The recurring cast would be a bevy of supernatural souls in limbo, working towards a nebulous "release". But the show was canceled half a season in and Barry Sonnenfeld went to meditate on a mountaintop until he decided "fuck, I'll just cast Kristin Chenoweth, she makes anything good". (Okay, that's enough about Pushing Daisies.)
Basically, it's the Twilight Zone if every single moral was "be careful what you wish for." People go to Fantasy Island and then get punished for their fantasy, which must not make for a lot of repeat business.
In the pilot, there's a guy who regrets marrying his wife instead of this other gal, so there's some tomfoolery of a shapeshifter playing the other gal and his wife being with another man and, I know you'll be just shocked, they end up back in each others' arms. Oh, and the hot shapeshifter makes a pass at Mr. "Malcolm McDowell" Roarke. Eww! You were wondering why this got canceled?
Then there's the B-plots. Some guy is into extreme sports instead of spending every waking moment with his wife, so that can't stand. After 'dying', Mr. Roarke shows him a montage to the effect of life being the most extreme sport of all (and yes, that metaphor is as cringe-inducing as you'd expect. Not even Malcolm McDowell saying "Take it to the max." can mitigate it) and before you can say 'Clarence, I want to live again!", he's learned the folly of taking satisfaction or enjoyment from anything outside of his wife.
Then there's a girl whose folly is wanting to be smarter (uh-oh). Her hubris earns her the knowledge that her sister slept with her fiancee. Oh, come on! How is that her fault? Is the moral that it's better not to know that your sister's a slut and your fiancee's a cheating asshole? Ugh.
And this was the pilot, intended to get audiences coming back week after week. I can't imagine what they wrote when the creative juices weren't flowing.
The Good: Even if it did lead into The Worst Sports Metaphor Ever, Malcolm McDowell's reading of "And now it's time for my fantasy" could've made for a great "oh, shit!" moment. But all that comes of it is comparing the birth of your daughter to extreme sports. Yeah.
Backstory: In the 90s, one of the networks decided to do an update of Fantasy Island, this time swapping out benevolent do-gooder Richardo "rich Corinthian leather" Montalban for agent of Lucifer Malcolm McDowell. The recurring cast would be a bevy of supernatural souls in limbo, working towards a nebulous "release". But the show was canceled half a season in and Barry Sonnenfeld went to meditate on a mountaintop until he decided "fuck, I'll just cast Kristin Chenoweth, she makes anything good". (Okay, that's enough about Pushing Daisies.)
Basically, it's the Twilight Zone if every single moral was "be careful what you wish for." People go to Fantasy Island and then get punished for their fantasy, which must not make for a lot of repeat business.
In the pilot, there's a guy who regrets marrying his wife instead of this other gal, so there's some tomfoolery of a shapeshifter playing the other gal and his wife being with another man and, I know you'll be just shocked, they end up back in each others' arms. Oh, and the hot shapeshifter makes a pass at Mr. "Malcolm McDowell" Roarke. Eww! You were wondering why this got canceled?
Then there's the B-plots. Some guy is into extreme sports instead of spending every waking moment with his wife, so that can't stand. After 'dying', Mr. Roarke shows him a montage to the effect of life being the most extreme sport of all (and yes, that metaphor is as cringe-inducing as you'd expect. Not even Malcolm McDowell saying "Take it to the max." can mitigate it) and before you can say 'Clarence, I want to live again!", he's learned the folly of taking satisfaction or enjoyment from anything outside of his wife.
Then there's a girl whose folly is wanting to be smarter (uh-oh). Her hubris earns her the knowledge that her sister slept with her fiancee. Oh, come on! How is that her fault? Is the moral that it's better not to know that your sister's a slut and your fiancee's a cheating asshole? Ugh.
And this was the pilot, intended to get audiences coming back week after week. I can't imagine what they wrote when the creative juices weren't flowing.
The Good: Even if it did lead into The Worst Sports Metaphor Ever, Malcolm McDowell's reading of "And now it's time for my fantasy" could've made for a great "oh, shit!" moment. But all that comes of it is comparing the birth of your daughter to extreme sports. Yeah.
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Date: 2008-12-16 11:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 02:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 04:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 05:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 05:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 06:21 pm (UTC)My job is physical. As much time as I spend on my computer, I spend a good chunk of it wanting to throw it out a window. I haven't played a video game since the mid-90's. And I think stuff like Dungeons and Dragons and those type games are beyond stupid. Star Trek and Star Wars are only tolerable in small doses. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is great, but Joss Whedon sucks.
On the other hand I collect comics and am very interested in the minutae of fictional continuities. And I'm a total net junkie.
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Date: 2008-12-16 06:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-16 07:04 pm (UTC)