The sixties were a heady/trippy time and that was reflected in the TV shows: a nun who could fly, a witch married to a mortal, a genie serving a mortal (and later marrying him), a talking car, a Martian passed off as an uncle, a talking horse, the family foibles of monsters . . . If you think nothing was impossible to high-concept then, you're wrong.
For instance, sixties TV never took the center square from Hollywood Squares and attempted to turn him into a prosecutor. Watching CBS' final primetime entry on Thursday nights, you grasp that the creators of Shark tripped out far more than anyone ever did in the sixties.
James Woods is the actor today who owes the biggest debt to Paul Lynde and who would have thunk it? But over-the-top performances in drek like The Specialist demonstrated that his performance has no volume button, no shading and that the three words "over the top" are seen as a challenge to Woods.
"Why just do when you can overdo?" seems to be his acting motto.
Shark is a show that doesn't know what it is. Is it a family drama with a legal backdrop? No. It strives towards moments of Judging Amy but Woods, supposedly playing Sebastian Stark, tanks every one. Is it a crime drama? No. For that to be the case, the writers would have to actually be interested in the crime. They're more interested in driving down back alleys than charging down the main street.
Besides not knowing what it is, the show suffers from the fact that it, to use the jargon, "jumps the shark" everytime Woods is before a camera. He doesn't even have to speak, his bouncy locks can overact just as strongly without words. Every gesture, every look is so magnifed that if Ron Trott showed up as Sebastian's platonic friend or lifetime partner, no one would bat an eye. In fact, Victor Garber's Trott would be seen as the strong & silent one of the pairing. Woods is just that bad.
At one point, a private detective sums up Sebastian intentionally and Woods by proxy when he declares, "You are like something I stepped in."
Summing up the show, Jeri Ryan's Jessica Devlin declares, "If this weren't so tragic, it would be funny." That also sums up Ryan's role in the proceedings.
Devlin's a district attorney who is upfront about having higher political ambitions. We'd love to root for her but wearing what looks like KFC barbeque sauce as makeup won't help those goals. (In fact, the second she raises her eyebrows in any scenes, the heavy, gloss makeup results in forehead crevices for the duration of the scene.) Apparently determined to distinguish herself from another prominent female attorney in the Los Angeles disctrict attorney's office, Jessica Devlin also decides to sport cleavage in all public appearances. Take that, Marcia Clark!
Ryan's acting isn't bad. But every detail from wardrobe to makeup combines to torpedo anything she might achieve in front of the camera. As her character says, "If this weren't so tragic, it would be funny."
Funny is watching Woods attempt to interact with his character's teenage daughter. If the home scenes are supposed to 'round out' the character of Sebastian, they fail. At home, he still comes off like he's performing in a VH1 Divas special. Woods can't modulate his performance. It's full blast from start to finish and aimed at the person in the back row of a crowded theater which, since it's delivered across the airwaves, makes it all the more frightening.
As you watch Woods, you grasp how showy is the only trick he ever learned. Morgan Fairchild's acting circles around Bo Derek in MyTV's Fashion House and that's partly due to the fact that Bo Derek is hideous but it's also true that Fairchild long ago grasped that a character exists in context. Something as simple as grabbing a prop or drumming her fingers on a table, establish that Sofia is part of a world around her. Woods refutes props, refutes the space around him. In fact, his entire performance comes off like a one man show on a stark stage.
We enjoy Elaine Stritch as much as the next person, but we would never have suggested that she bring her cabaret act to a legal drama. But someone tripping out on something much harder than anything available in the sixites has just done that. Watching Woods hug himself repeatedly with his right arm while waving the left non-stop, we're reminded that lonely people have a tendancy to touch themselves often. Looking at the ratings, we grasp why Woods feels so lonely.
If you lamented the cancellation of My Mother The Car, if you're jonesing for a new version of Mister Ed, if camp does it for you, Shark is your show. But catch it quickly and Tivo or tape it. Friends at CBS insist the plug's due to be pulled any day now.