Boy howdy, if this ain't a surprise.

What seemed like a lame idea for a lame show centered around a series of lame send-ups of lame Portland cliches is actually much more than half-baked lameness. Portlandia takes a tired gag, like making fun of feminist bookstores, and transcends it with absurdest humor reminiscent of The Kids in the Hall while tossing in something unexpected, like a cameo from Steve Buscemi. He shows up at the 8:30 mark of the first episode, posted below.

The premiere tackles time-worn local stereotypes like adult sports leagues and organic farms. Part of the appeal is that these skits are rooted in a thorough knowledge of the city and its inhabitants. I've actually eaten lunch with a guy much like Fred Armisen's character. During a meal at the Morning Star Cafe last summer, he asked a perturbed waitress a dozen questions about the cheeseburger he was considering. After she went to the trouble of asking the manager about the beef the restaurant uses and whether or not the cow had been fed organic corn, he opted for hashbrowns and eggs instead. That guy could probably use a five year stint on a farm "30 minutes south of Portland."

But instead of shooting for easy "look at all these stupid hipsters and hippies" gags, Portlandia is much more ambitious. A skit about an adult "hide and seek" league results in a confrontation between a player and an irritated elderly woman who fillets modern romance and every aspect of his life. The organic farm sketch leads its characters along a strange trip to a cult commune lorded over by Jason Sudeikis.

That said, I can't see this thing lasting beyond a season or two. The premise is bound to paint Portlandia into a corner quickly, unless the show is willing to branch out beyond it fast. Imagine a Saturday Night Live just about Manhattan or a Monty Python just about Manchester. Both would have come with short expiration dates, regardless of how witty the contents. With Carrie Brownstein and Fred Armisen at the center, they probably have no intention of keeping the show going for more than that though. If anything, this is likely just a goofy side-project for the two of them to fill some time between tours and recording voiceovers for Brainy Smurf in the new Smurfs movie.

Labels: television

In the spirit of the holiday (didn't you know that it's Anna Howard Shaw Day?), here's some idle gossip about Sherri Hiner, the owner of the Mattress World empire. Mattress World's ads have been all over Portland television for nearly a decade and the company's "It's not too late to sleep like a baby!" jingle has cemented itself permanently into the brain of many a local. For years, Sherri and her husband Jon starred in these commercials until Jon mysteriously disappeared from them in the spring of 2008. Sure enough, they had filed for divorce earlier that February.

Sheri's been going solo in the ads since then but, low and behold, a new Olympics-themed ad aired during the opening ceremonies on Friday night co-starring a long-haired guy who kinda, sorta looks like one of the bad guys from Die Hard. Could this bloke be Sheri's new "Mattress World Man"?

Jack Bogdanski saw the same ad and ran a post about it over on his blog. Word out on the street is that Sheri lost a good deal of weight a few years ago and took a liking to a few of Mattress World's delivery guys. Her marriage to Jon didn't last much longer after that. Infidelity, power struggles, heartbreak, mattresses- this whole thing sounds like it would be a good plot for a Lifetime Original Movie...or at least a solid parody of a Lifetime Original Movie.

This ad from January obviously hints at a tryst with Joey Harrington. Man, Sheri's quickly becoming the Wilt Chamberlain of Portland television.


(Yep, this is all I've got for this week. I've been cooped up inside with midterm projects for the last nine days and I'm running short on blog fodder. C'mon, cut me a break over here...)

Labels: love, television

Some things that Conan O'Brien and I have in common:

1. We're both geeky.

2. We're both incredibly pale.

3. We were both paid by Comcast-NBC to go away.

Our exit interviews were even remarkably similar, although I'll admit that the human resources manager that conducted mine looks nothing like Steve Carell. Another key difference? A Will Ferrel/Beck/ZZ Top "Free Bird" send-off. I didn't get one of those. Oh, and somewhere in the neighborhood of $44,994,000.

After several years of working at Comcast, a dozen of my coworkers and I were given the boot last November. Upper management in Philadelphia made the decision earlier in the fall, out of the clear blue, to wipe our department and similar departments in all of their nationwide markets. It hit us like a ton of bricks but, at the very least, the company was somewhat classy about the whole thing. We were all provided with a severance package. Some of us opted to apply for other jobs at the company, others of us have moved on.

I made the decision to flee back into the comfortable bosom of academia for a second degree and, with any luck, hopefully sit out the rest of this miserable recession since the job market here in Portland is so woeful. Although, I would consider taking a job as a late night talk show host on Fox if the network isn't able to hash things out with Mr. O'Brien.

I caught the last episode of Coco's run on The Tonight Show last night. It was fantastic, especially the bit where he rolled out a pre-historic Smithsonian skeleton to "destroy" an original Picasso with motor oil ("cost of this skit? $65 million dollars!"). Nonetheless, I would like to take issue with the host's teary-eyed speech towards the end though. Here it is:

I appreciate the sentiment but I've always bristled whenever incredibly successful people like Conan break out the "if you work hard, great things will happen to you" speech. On behalf of millions of Americans that have spent their entire lives working hard only to land on unemployment in the middle of the worst economic landscape in over 70 years, I'd like to note that this isn't always the case. Not all of us are floating off into a temporary sunset strapped to a $45 million dollar golden parachute.

While I'm smashing all of these sour grapes I may as well also point out that Conan's career was built on the cynicism he lambasted in his speech last night. He cut his teeth in the writers room of The Simpsons, after all, and he's the guy who brought us "Marge Vs. the Monorail."

A bit of a hypocrite? Eh, I'll let you decide.

Labels: television, the economy

Sorry for the skimpy amount of posts around here these past few days. For those keeping track of these things, I may have to skip out on this week's edition of Random Links. In case I'm not back in front of a computer until Monday, I wanted to drop a few words about the last episode, ever, of The Sopranos. It airs this Sunday.

Not to give anything away from last week's plot-heavy installment but I think it's pretty obvious where Tony is going to find himself after the credits roll. Here's my guess. In the off chance I'm right about this, consider yourself warned for possible spoilers and stop reading this post right now.

At the end of his rope and with his support system of family, "family," assorted mistresses and Dr. Melfi eradicated, Tony will flip. He'll go into protective custody, Carmela will refuse to follow and he'll assume the identity of "Kevin Finnerty," as prophesied by his coma-fueled delusions from last season.

Anyone want to put money on this?

Labels: television

The Colbert Report: Funny. One of the best things on television. In many cases, above reproach. There are some things that are too good to last and, honestly, I think this may be one of them. The show has been firing on all cylinders for too long and it's burned through a thousand great ideas. I figured the dual, same day, interviews on The Colbert Report and The O'Reilly Factor were going to prove to be the "departure point." Now the producers have somehow coaxed Sean Penn to face the host in a "Metaphor Off" during tonight's installment. How long can a show keep topping itself and keep up the pace of being flippin' hilarious four nights a week? I figure it will all come crashing down by the end of the year when either the staff reaches burnout or Colbert is offered a lucrative network or movie deal.

Or not. Here's hoping the show has a lot of life left in it. Anyway, that's a long preamble for a post about ice cream. Sorry about that.

A few weeks ago, I went in search of the show's official ice cream. When Ben and Jerry showed up on the Colbert Report last month to debut a flavor inspired by Colbert himself, I figured it was a gag. It dawned on me a few days later when I saw something about it on the internet.

Two Fred Meyers and one New Seasons later, I found a single pint left at my neighborhood Albertsons. "Stephen Colbert's AmeriCone Dream" did indeed exist and it's popular around here. During a show a few weeks ago, Colbert proudly announced it was now the company's best selling flavor. A quick search on the Ben and Jerry's site, however, says the top flavor is still "Cherry Garcia." I couldn't find anything else on the internet besides Colbert's words to back up the claim.

(Possibly) empty boasts aside, the stuff is pretty good. You might assume that patriotic ice cream should consist of raspberry (red), vanilla (white) and blueberry (der, blue) flavors but what about ironically patriotic ice cream? Instead of all that, "AmeriCone Dream" is made up of vanilla ice cream, caramel and chunks of chocolate-covered waffle cone bits. If you were to take a Drumstick, scrape off the peanuts and toss it into a blender, this is what it probably taste like. What's more all-American than a Drumstick, at least as far as prepackaged, ice-cream based desserts go?

At the very least, it's 40 - 60% more patriotic than Willie Nelson's new flavor. Yeah, that's after figuring in the recall. Apparently, it was all part of a FBI conspiracy to harass ol' Willie, doncha know.

Labels: dessert, television