Wednesday, October 11, 2006

30 Rock-ing My World.


I watched the pilot of 30 Rock on the NBC website last night as was eating my dinner and supposedly doing other productive things. I had read the script a long time ago, and I thought it was good then. Now I'm watching the show...and I am loving it. Everyone is so funny. I'm sad about the demotion of Rachel Dratch, but I guess that Jane lady's okay. As long as Rachel gets to guest star in episodes, I'm cool with that. I'm taping tonight's episode, too, even though I watched the whole thing last night. The online one was all jumpy and grainy. Work on that, NBC Universal IT people. I likes my quality.

Onto the obvious comparisons between this thoroughly entertaining sitcom and the tired, misogynist, too smug for its own britches pile of gar-bage that is Studio 60. When Matt went to the Bombshell Babies performance at the Roxy to get a black boot signed in black Sharpie (good call there, continuity people) to make Harriet jealous, I was disturbed by the inherent sexism in the scene. And in the following scenes, as well. This isn't Las Vegas. This is Studio 60. I don't need practically underage (compared to Matthew Perry), barely dressed, overly made up burlesque dancers, i.e. high class strippers, spreading their legs for male tv writers and waving their tassles in my face. What was that about?

Now when Tina Fey and Tracy Morgan were drinking it down in the Bronx strip club, I didn't have a problem with any of those scenes. Even when Tracy was literally tossing bills at two girls dancing around a pole, and then Tina went up and joined them, shaking her money maker while wearing a club t-shirt and Laura Bush's wool skirt, I thought it was funny.

I'm still trying to figure out why I approved of the 30 Rock scenario, while I loathed the Studio 60 one. Maybe because the 30 Rock one starred and was written by Tina Fey, who can write funny material, and the Studio 60 one was written by Aaron Sorkin, whose female characters always happen to be leered at, demeaned, mocked or sexually harassed by the men they are conversing with, and then stupidly tell those men, "Please, sir, I want some more?"

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