Striking Back

So, thirty years have passed since the release of Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back. Wow, I guess. As luck would have it, I watched the film not too long ago — a couple of months, probably — and it still holds up extremely well. This is unsurprising, of course; the film is a bona fide classic.

I’ve read some tributes here and there around the Interweb and around Blogistan specifically, and I’ve found myself of mixed mind about the good words being said about the movie, mainly because a very large portion of comment seems to be of the “Wow, remember thirty years ago when Star Wars didn’t suck?” variety. I’m saddened by that, but hey, nothing I can do about it, either. It gets tiring, though — it seems that every event or happening or milestone that returns Star Wars to public consciousness is followed by the usual “George Lucas is the richest hack in history” comment. Oh well. Par for the course. Put it this way: I’m not much looking forward to 2013’s 30th anniversary of Return of the Jedi.

Empire came out when I was just eight years old, living in Hillsboro, OR. I didn’t see it for a few weeks after it came out, and yet, in those pre-Interweb days, I was able to go see the sequel to Star Wars three or four weeks after its release with zero idea of its story, other than what I’d seen in the TV commercials and such. I knew there was a snowy planet where the Rebels were fighting these big metal dinosaurs, I knew that there was a space chase through some asteroids, and I knew that there was a new character played by some guy named Billy Dee. That’s about it. I certainly had no idea that there was a Jedi master named Yoda, and I was actually surprised when the goofy little green guy in the swamp turned out to be Yoda. I was horribly dismayed when Han Solo got put into carbon freeze, but I thought, “Hey, no prob, they’ll save him before the movie ends.” Yeah…my first ever experience with a cliffhanger.

And I had no idea whatsoever that Darth Vader might be Luke Skywalker’s father.

How was this possible? Well, again, it was pre-Interweb, and pre-cable teevee, and all the rest of that. Also, I was lucky that my school district at the time let out for summer vacation in the first days of June, so Empire had been out for all of two weeks before I lost most contact with my schoolmates, most of whom hadn’t yet seen the movie either. So there was nobody to spoil the thing for me. I went into that movie almost completely blind. Empire was the last Star Wars film I was able to do that with.

Empire is, of course, now nearly universally hailed as the best of all Star Wars movies. There’s a lot to that, to be honest; the film earns its reputation with a superb script, amazingly paced and shot action sequences, a darker turn of events, and what may well be the best music John Williams has ever written. When pressed, I will almost always name A New Hope as my personal favorite Star Wars film, but the pro-Empire arguments are compelling.

Empire‘s beloved status really only started to grow after Return of the Jedi came out three years later. I don’t think it’s so much because Jedi was a bad film, as much as Empire‘s nature — being the middle act of a three-act story — meant that it could only really be appreciated once all the acts were out there, and the middle act’s true function and relation to the rest of the story could be judged. If I preferred Empire when I was a kid, it was mainly because it was shinier and newer than the older, more familiar film.

Here, in tribute, are my two favorite tracks from the entire brilliant score to The Empire Strikes Back. Empire was the first record album I ever bought with my own money. I didn’t even have my own record player at the time, and I had to listen to it in my parents’ bedroom when I wanted to hear it. I’d later get a record player that Christmas (it also had an 8-track tape player!), and Empire was the first thing I played on it. I played that album (a 2-LP set) to death over the next few years, wearing out the gatefold record jacket and putting numerous pops and scratches into the LP’s grooves themselves. Back then, John Williams would arrange his albums to make a “better listening experience”, which meant that tracks were not arranged on the album in the order they were heard in the film and that tracks from entirely different parts of the film were sometimes combined into a single track on the album. I played that album so much that even now, when I listen to subsequent remasterings of the Empire score, with all the tracks in film order, my brain still expects the original album order, with its tracks bearing titles like “The Heroics of Luke and Han”.

The first track is my favorite action cue from the score. Many fans would cite “The Asteroid Field” as theirs, but for me, it’s “The Clash of Lightsabers” all the way. This track underscores the second part of Luke’s duel with Vader, after they’ve moved from the carbon freezing chamber to a mechanical anteroom where Vader starts using the Force to hurl machine parts at Luke. It begins mysteriously and becomes more and more ominous as Vader toys with Luke; the music howls when the big window behind Luke is shattered and the wind begins to pour through the room, sweeping Luke out into the shaft, where he manages to catch onto the gantry and pull himself to safety. Then we cut (at the 1:38 mark) to Leia, Chewie, Lando and the droids as they work their way back to the Millennium Falcon. Lando’s theme (at the 2:00 mark) plays as he announces the evacuation of Cloud City. The rest of the track builds and builds (love the great brass bit starting at 2:36) which ends in first triumph as R2-D2 opens the door to the landing platform, and then the desperate version of the film’s Love Theme as the heroes race for their ship and freedom. This is one of my favorite action cues in all film music.

Second is from earlier in the film, on Dagobah: “Yoda and the Force”. This scene is, for me, the philosophical and emotional heart of just about all of Star Wars, when Yoda takes advantage of the sinking of Luke’s X-wing into the swamp to try to get through to Luke as to what it truly means to feel the Force. It’s a wonderful cue, from the meditative string writing to the noble statement of Yoda’s Theme as he lifts the ship from the water.

Happy birthday, Empire. You’ve never looked better.

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Actually, we’re Quantum Presbyterians

Via Cal, I see that the organizers of the 2012 Summer Olypmics in London have unveiled their mascots for the Games.

And here they are.

Well, aren’t those interesting?

I think that it’s now official, folks. We are now living in the Age of Simpson, because we’ve now come to a point where the Olympic mascots are Kang and Kodos!

Homer: (lowering his trousers and bending over) I suppose you’ll want to probe me. Well, you might as well get it over with.

Kang: Stop! We have reached the limits of what rectal probing can teach us.

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Something for Thursday

Whoa! It’s Thursday. Oops.

As a tonic for the latest crime against music perpetrated on American Idol by the inexplicably beloved crappy singer Lee DeWyze, here’s Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” the way the thing is supposed to sound:

Lee turned it into an arena-rock anthem. It was the most vile thing I’ve heard since…Lee ruined “Falling Slowly” by Glen Hansard and Markita Irglova…or since Lee brutally strangled “Hey Jude” and then dragged the bloody corpse around the stage….

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30 years….

…since Mount St. Helens’s massive eruption of May 18, 1980.

We actually lived in Hillsboro, OR at the time of the 1980 eruptions (there were quite a few, starting earlier than that, but May 18 was the Mother of ’em all). I remember volcanic ash covering our driveway and seeing the enormous ash clouds dominating the sky, even though the mountain was sixty miles away.

Here’s an infographic that explains the geology of the event (via):

The most amazing factoid to me about Mt. St. Helens is that Spirit Lake, on the mountain’s northern side, was elevated to such a degree by the 1980 eruptions that its current bottom is now higher than its pre-1980 surface level. That’s the power of Earth, folks!

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Outgun Outrun Outgrabe!

I’ve had something of a love/hate relationship with Survivor over the years. I watched a goodly chunk of the first season — most of it after the first few episodes, a little bit of the second, an episode or two here and there of most seasons after that. Then they did a “Pirate” themed season about five or six years back which sucked me in almost instantly.

I liked that season right off the bat because they gave the two teams some money and sent them into a town in the first episode to buy provisions that they would take with them to “the island” or wherever it was they were, and one team actually stole some of the other team’s stuff. And then, the contestants were taken on a boat and they were all dressed up for what they were told was a publicity photo shoot — and then, when the boat they were on anchored about a hundred yards off the coast of “the island”, our erstwhile host and emcee Jeff Probst announced, “There’s no photo shoot. The game starts right now. That’s your island. Over the side, as you are!” And they had to do it. One guy was in a shirt and tie, and the women were in dresses and had to “play the game” without that most important of female garments on Survivor: sports bras. That was cool. That season had a lot of memorable folks in it: a villain named Jon who dubbed himself “Jonny Rotten”; a backstabbing Boy Scouts den mother named Lil; a giant lummox hippie named Rupert; and the eventual winner, a Puerto Rican woman named Sandra.

I think the next season started off interestingly as well, but what got involving there was the play of a single contestant, a guy named Terry, who saw his entire tribe cut down, one by one, until it was just himself remaining against the rest of the other tribe. He was screwed, and the only hope he had was to literally win every single immunity challenge the rest of the way out, from something like ten people left all the way down to three. He fell one challenge short, and the winner ended up being some kid whom I couldn’t stand.

I swore off Survivor after Terry’s elimination, but I would still catch an occasional episode here and there, until the 20th season, which concluded last night. (Ever since 2001, Survivor has aired two complete editions each teevee season, so since 2000 they’ve had 20 editions, or seasons, of the show. Odd terminology.) This was the much ballyhooed “Heroes versus Villains” edition, which pitted players who had been popular and who had played, I don’t know, “above board” games against a bunch of players who had been sneaky, mean, deceitful, and downright dishonest. Of course, Survivor by its nature blurs the line between “hero” and “villain” quite a bit; as Rupert noted in last night’s reunion episode in which the winner (Sandra again, whom I loved the first time and loved again this time), in the the three seasons of Survivor on which he has appeared, he has lied and stolen and backstabbed, and yet he was labeled a “hero”.

But anyway, on to this particular season, which was basically dominated almost from pillar to post by a guy named Russell, who was billed as possibly the best player in Survivor history. I didn’t see much at all of the first season he was on, which immediately preceded this one, but apparently his gameplay the first time was basically to manipulate the hell out of people, lie and deceive at will, put the knife in the back of people he had allied himself with before (sometimes earlier the same day). Russell was a force to be reckoned with…and yet, he didn’t win his first regular season of Survivor.

So he was immediately brought back for “Heroes versus Villains”, and he started the same style of gameplay again, and damned if it didn’t work again as he manipulated the hell out of people, lied and deceived at will, put the knife in the back of people he had previously allied himself with, and at times literally seemed to be dictating the terms of “the game” (as Survivor is always referred to by those playing it) to the other contestants. Somehow he always seemed to get his way, until the end, when he once again saw someone else walk away with the million dollar prize and the title of “Ultimate Survivor”, as Sandra became the first person to ever win Survivor twice. There have been several editions of Survivor that brought back previous contestants and even previous winners, but until now, no previous winner had won it all again.

I’ve seen Sandra’s victory denigrated in various places by people who admired the openly “evil” way Russell approached the game, but I seriously don’t get this notion. Sandra is a lesser player because she never, in either season she played, won a single individual Immunity Challenge; she never put together a dominant alliance; she never dictated the course of the game. “She never had a strategy,” the refrain goes; “Sandra just rode others’ coattails, she just flew under the radar, et cetera et cetera et cetera.” These complaints seem silly to me: why isn’t flying under the radar a strategy? Why isn’t just letting a more dominant player focus on everyone else a strategy? The notion seems to be that Sandra didn’t deserve to win because she didn’t play Survivor in the manner that lots of people like to see people play Survivor — this despite the fact, evident in twenty seasons of the show, that people who play that way simply don’t win. They don’t.

Have deceitful, sneaky and manipulative people won in the past? Sure. Richard Hatch won the very first time out by being that kind of player, and one reason why it’s taken me so long to really warm up to the show is that so often it turns out that people with the skill set necessary to do well on Survivor are people I wouldn’t want anywhere near me, much less winning a show. But what Richard did was something Russell not only didn’t do, but didn’t even realize he should have done: Richard managed to cast someone else as the villain and therefore was able to win when the jury voted against her.

The argument for Russell winning always seems to be phrased the exact same way: “He played the game.” He played the game, all right, but…so what? Am I to believe that Sandra did not play the game? Of course she did, and what’s more, she did it without an alliance to back her up (despite her best efforts to forge one), she did it without ever winning Inidividual Immunity, and she did it with only finding one of the hidden Immunity Idols. Sandra won by demonstrating a much greater understanding of the psychological aspect of the game, about which Russell was simply clueless.

“But Russell played the game!”

Russell himself kept saying it, over and over and over. “I shoulda won because I played the game!” And Russell’s defenders have picked up the same chorus, which leads me to conclude that a lot of folks simply don’t understand something fundamental about games: by definition they have more than one way to be played. There are poker players who can win by being so good at bluffing that they can make you fold on a full house when they’re sitting on a pair of threes, and there are other poker players who can win by being average bluffers at best but are instead able to keep careful mental track of cards played and probabilities confronting them. There are chess players who play a wide-open, attacking style, and there are chess players who play stalwart defense to allow their offensive-minded opponents to break their own forces against. The point is pretty clear: Sandra played the game too. She just played it in a different style than Russell. Maybe you prefer a player of Russell’s style to win, but that’s not the same thing as implying that Sandra just went on autopilot and wound up right there at the end.

Sandra’s strategy has been extremely effective both times she’s played: she sneaks about and listens carefully to gain information, and she is able to make herself seem as though she simply isn’t a threat. It was glaringly obvious during the last couple episodes of this season that Russell was making a colossal error in the way he kept saying that he didn’t care if Sandra went to the final three, because there was no way the jury would award someone who “didn’t play the game”. As in, the jury would never award someone who didn’t play with the same approach that he did. I thought Sandra’s strategy was pretty brilliant, especially in her first season, when she was able to look the jury in the eye at the very end and say, “Every one of who that’s on the jury instead of sitting here is there because of something Lil [her Final Two opponent] did.” And damned if she wasn’t able to get the same point across again.

And that, ultimately, brings me to why I now consider Russell to be a very overrated player of Survivor. Oddly, I was trying to crystallize my thoughts on Russell’s gameplay errors when, in the reunion show, it was Boston Rob — of all people! — who laid it out nicely by pointing out that Russell didn’t play to win the game, he merely played to get to the final three. In Russell’s mind, “winning Survivor” is exactly the same thing as “getting to the final three”. And we’ve seen, time and time and time again that on Survivor, that simply isn’t the case.

So, what was wrong with Russell? Why was he overrated?

Point the first: Russell was often very lucky, and yet, in the jury questioning, he openly denied the role luck had to play in his success.

This is a bigger point than many people suppose. Lots of folks, Americans in particular I’ve noticed, underrate luck as a crucial role in whatever success they attain in life (or lack thereof). Russell genuinely thought that he got to the final three solely by virtue of his own efforts. This simply isn’t the case. First off, he had a built-in structural advantage in that “Heroes versus Villains” was filmed just a couple of weeks after the previous season — Russell’s first — had ended, which meant that Russell’s first edition of Survivor had not even aired when he started playing “Heroes versus Villains”. Thus, none of the “H v. V” contestants knew anything about him. I have to believe that the next time Russell gets a shot at Survivor, he will have a bullseye on his back very early on, because everyone will know about him.

Second, his Villains tribe had a good early run, with the Villains only losing two of the first seven Immunity Challenges, and it wasn’t until the third episode — Day 8 of the show, realtime — that the Villains had to vote someone out. That gave Russell eight days, which were followed by seven more, to start putting together an alliance to first protect him and, later, conspire with him. That was a lucky break.

Third, Russell found a hidden Immunity Idol, which helped him to get a player on another alliance knocked off.

Fourth, in that very episode when he played the Idol by giving it to Parvati — thus cementing his alliance — he could not have had any idea that Tyson would change his vote.

Fifth, he couldn’t have predicted that the Hero tribe would do something do stupid as to give him another Immunity Idol.

Sixth, the final Immunity Challenge came down to him and Jerri. Had Parvati won it, who knows?

Russell was often quite lucky. Now, he did possess the skill to make the most of that luck, but when he denied that luck was a factor at all, it made clear that Russell had fallen in love with the power of his own personality.

Point the second: Russell had no end-game.

When you play a game, if you want to be good at it, you have to be able to put together an end-game. The end-game is when one’s attention switches from reaching a certain point in the game with a certain position of strength to securing the victory. Russell had no idea how to do this, because as Boston Rob pointed out, Russell thought that reaching the end-game was the end-game. Anyone who’s really paid attention to Survivor over the years knows otherwise. This brings me to:

Point the third: Russell simply does not understand the game.

Remember the end of Shawshank Redemption, when Red says, in voiceover, “I like to think that the last thing to go through the Warden’s head, other than that bullet, was to think, how in the hell Andy Dufresne ever got the best of him.” The look on Russell’s face last night when he lost was very similar to that — it was as though he couldn’t process it. His inner Vezzini had to be screaming “Inconceivable!” And yet, it was.

Sure, it’s easy for viewers at home to get a kick out of watching Russell strut around the island, bullying people into voting the way he wants them to, but imagine that you’re not sitting in your living room watching a carefully edited 43 minutes of what happened, but you’re living it. Imagine you’re Jerri, and all of a sudden one day, you’ve got Russell in your face saying, “Vote with me or you’re out of this game.” I tend to think that’s the exact moment when he lost Jerri’s jury vote, and he did that stuff constantly, and then still expected to get the million dollar reward. Russell simply did not understand that at its heart, Survivor is the most psychological of reality teevee games. He showed no understanding of the psychology of the game; all Russell saw was blunt force. He was the human embodiment of the old adage that when your only tool is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.

Put simply: Survivor by its very nature doesn’t reward the nicest person, but it does reward the person who is the lesser dick, or douche, or asshole, or whatever word you like. What makes Survivor so oddly compelling is that it sets up a game where you need to screw people to win, and then in the end, final victory is decided by the people who have been screwed. That’s why the game requires that such a fine line be walked by those who would win it, and Russell not only refused to walk the fine line, he ignored its existence altogether.

In the end, Russell felt entitled to win, and people have a funny tendency to look down on people who feel entitled. He showed his sense of entitlement in his shock at having lost, and in his bizarre notion that viewers should get to vote on the ultimate winner.

In conclusion, Russell did not deserve to win; he is not the greatest player in Survivor history; Sandra did deserve to win because she did play the game. She outwitted Russell, she outplayed him, and she outlasted him.

A few random notes:

:: Colby said that they weren’t allowed to swim or go anywhere while on the set. What was that about?

:: I was rooting for Russell just to get rid of Boston Rob, whom I consider to be one of the most irritating people on teevee anywhere. Why Rob is considered such a great player is beyond me; he’s 0-3 on Survivor and 0-2 on The Amazing Race. He’s nowhere near as potent a force as he thinks he is.

:: I like Rupert a lot, but man, is he a clueless lummox or what?

:: I thought the women on the show were, without exception, better looking in their no-makeup, unbathed states on the show than all dolled up in the finale! I suppose I find dirty women appealing.

:: Coach is a very, very odd man. He kept giving speeches that were incoherent at best.

:: The next edition of Survivor goes to Nicaragua. I’d love to see a non-tropical locale at some point, huh? They’ve done the Australian Outback and they’ve done China, but that’s it. I’m not saying they should do Survivor: Himalayans, but how about a desert environment? Or a mountain forest in the Pacific Northwest?

We’ll see next year, but for now, Yay Sandra!

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Sentential Links #206

Linkage for those who seek. Enlightenment for those who find. Or something like that.

:: But as difficult as a lot of these problems are generally, once the U.S. government starts targeting U.S. citizens without warrants or due process, we’ve crossed a bright line that’s dangerously corrosive. That includes the warrantless wiretapping and non-appealable no-fly lists of the Bush administration, and it includes assassinating Americans and removing Miranda protections under the Obama administration. They’re outrageous and dangerous transgressions no matter who’s doing them, and Obama needs to take a long, deep breath and reconsider how he’s handling these issues. In most things, Obama is famous for taking the long view and not letting day-to-day political considerations force his hand. He needs to start doing the same thing here. (This kind of thing is seriously the most WTF?! thing about the Obama administration, and it scares me to see the degree to which Americans just don’t care about civil liberties, whether it’s that odious racism that Arizona keeps codifying into law, the summary execution of American citizens without due process, the notion of stripping terror suspects of citizenship so we can make an end-run around those pesky things like 5th Amendment rights, you name it. It’s all very depressing.)

:: Just about one hour ago, space shuttle Atlantis lifted off from the Kennedy Space Center for the final time. (This is depressing too — not that the shuttle is being mothballed, because it really is odd that we’re basically using 1970s technology as the cornerstone of what passes for our space exploration program these days, but that we’re mothballing the shuttle with no real indication as to what ship will replace it, or if there will be a ship, or what the hell we’ll be using that ship for once we develop it. And I’m also tired of space policy in this country changing completely every four or eight years, depending on the outcome of our Presidential elections. “Space station, whiskey, sexy!” “No, we’re going back to the Moon and then to Mars!” “No, we’re not going to either one of those places! Low Earth Orbits for all!” At this rate, when humans reach the stars, they’ll be Chinese. Nothing wrong with that, but Ye Gods.)

:: With respect to all the love I have for the original ‘Star Trek’ series, I am a huge fan of ‘Star Trek DS 9’. (Me too. DS9 is, after the Original Series, the highwater mark of Star Trek.)

:: As usual, I treated myself to some new CDs for my birthday. (I failed to observe Lynn’s birthday, so Happy Belated Birthday to one of the elder readers of this blog!)

That’s about it. More next week.

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Sunday Burst of Weird and AWESOME!

Oddities and Awesome abound, folks. Oh yes. They abound.

:: The greatest dollhouse ever.

:: Argument FAIL:

A 23-year-old man jumped from a moving vehicle Thursday evening after his wife refused to “shut up,” according to a Montgomery County Sheriff’s Office report.

The report by Deputy Blake Neblett says the man, who was traveling with his wife and three children to Clarksville on Guthrie Highway, was arguing with his wife and told her to shut up.

When she refused, the man jumped from the moving vehicle.

Well, OK then.

:: When the President of the United States tells you that you will levitate, well then, you WILL levitate.

That’s from his trip to Buffalo last week.

More next week!

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“You do remind me a little of Hooch.”

I can rarely say with any particular conviction that a single teevee show is my favorite teevee show at any one moment, because there are always a number of teevee shows that I like a lot at any one time, and I can rarely elevate a single one to “favorite” status. Right now, my favorites are Grey’s Anatomy, The Mentalist, 30Rock, and a couple of others. One is starting to show signs of pushing through into possible “favorite” status. That show is Castle.

For those of you who haven’t watched Castle — what the hell is stopping you?! — it’s a mystery series set in New York City. Now, I know, we’ve had lots of those, but the gimmick here is that a bestselling murder mystery writer named Richard Castle (Nathan Fillion) uses his friendship with the Mayor to get the NYPD to allow him to “consult” on murder cases, which means he gets to show up at crime scenes and be present for interrogations. His “partner” is Detective Kate Beckett (Stana Katic), who is very tough, competent, professional, no-nonsense. Castle tends to be goofy to the point where he actually seems to have fun at bloody crime scenes, and it’s constantly falling to Beckett to rein him back in. It’s your typical relationship of two people of completely different personalities being pushed together, and as in all such cases, it either works or it doesn’t on the strength of the writing and the chemistry between the actors. Well, Castle has a surplus of terrific writing, and Fillion and Katic have so much chemistry that one wonders if Union Carbide is sponsoring the show.

Here’s a generally random list of things I appreciate about Castle:

:: Obviously, the Castle-Beckett relationship is the cornerstone of the series, which wouldn’t work without it. It’s a pleasingly complex relationship, and not without a certain amount of romantic tension between the two. And that’s the important thing to note: this isn’t sexual tension of the “Will Maddy ever sleep with Dave!” sort, but genuine romantic tension. There’s really no doubting that Castle and Beckett are really made for one another, just as Mulder and Scully were really made for one another.

Will they end up together? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe the show ends with them getting together, or maybe the show ends at some point aiming in that direction. What can not happen is either Castle or Beckett ending up with someone else. That would be wrong.

:: Castle makes a lot of sly references to other teevee shows, and generally has a great time winking at the audience. In one episode, an FBI agent asks Castle if he thinks he’s some kind of “TV detective”, to which Castle responds, “I don’t think so. They always seem oddly fixated on their sunglasses.”

And course, there was the episode that started off thusly:

And then there was this bit, which would only be noticed by the really attentive fans of Firefly:

:: Castle is a wonderfully shot series. Episodes are full of bold colors, artfully designed sets and shots, interesting camera work. It’s nice to see a crime series set in NYC that doesn’t emphasize the gritty, dirty New York. It doesn’t make New York into a fairytale land of beauty the way, say, Beauty and the Beast did back in the day, but it’s not a NYPDBLue-esque tour of filthy bodegas and scummy bars, either.

:: Snappy dialog and great lines abound. In one episode, a guy avoids being killed when he’s shot because the bullet is stopped by the copy of Crime and Punishment that he’s got in his coat pocket. One of the detectives later quips, “Good thing he likes Russian literature. If he’s a Nicholas Sparks fan, he’d be dead right now.”

Or another episode in which Castle and Beckett are investigating one case while the other two detectives investigate another, and Castle has bets going with the other two as to which team will close their case first. They all keep the betting “hush hush” because they know Beckett will ream the out in a big way if she finds out about it. Which, of course, she eventually does. Her response? She glares at the three of them, and then says, with perfect comic timing, “One hundred bucks on me and Castle.”

:: Castle’s family life isn’t irritating at all. A lot of times shows like this stop dead in their tracks when they show the “civilian lives” of the characters. Castle’s family — he lives with his eccentric stage-actress mother and his turning-out-just-fine teenage daughter — often keep him in line and are interesting characters in their own right. I just hope that we don’t get some kind of imperilization for Castle’s family sometime down the road, though.

The flipside here is that Detective Beckett’s home life isn’t shown nearly as much. We know that she reads Castle’s books, and her main motivation for becoming a cop was the unsolved murder of her mother. But we don’t see nearly as much of what she does on her off-hours as we do of Castle’s (which makes sense, since the show is mainly from Castle’s point of view).

:: The supporting characters are quirky and intelligent on their own. Nobody on this series is a boring “stock character”.

:: There’s a small bit of ongoing story arc in the series (Detective Beckett’s mother’s murder), but that’s kept fairly solidly in the background except for an episode here and there. The soap opera stuff is kept to a minimum. I love some ongoing continuity in a teevee series as much as anybody, but it’s also refreshing to have a show where most of the time, episodes are pretty self-contained.

Now, the show’s not perfect. No show ever is. There was an episode, for instance, that had Alyssa Milano guest-starring that was pretty clunky, mainly because after a season-and-a-half of getting to know Richard Castle, there’s just no way to see Alyssa Milano as the one failed relationship Castle really regrets. And there are lots of ways the show can misstep in the future: rushing the Castle/Beckett relationship, or putting Castle’s family in danger, so on and so forth. But for right now, Castle is a weekly dose of smart and witty murder mystery.

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