FROM HERO TO ZERO IN 135 SECONDS FLAT

I believe Alec Baldwin is a comedic genius. Of course he's funny on "30 Rock", he's supposed to be funny. That show desperately needs him to be funny. Otherwise, it might collapse under the weight of the one-note antics of Tracy Morgan. But I find Alec Baldwin to be especially funny when playing drama. Besides Emperor Palpatine, no one in the known universe relishes his own capacity for evil like Alec Baldwin. Two prime examples will undoubtedly illustrate my point:



and...



I had the honor and distinct pleasure to work with Baldwin (henceforth in this post, Baldwin will refer to Alec only, not his lesser kin) on a couple episodes of "Will & Grace". As always, he was dead on with his deadpan, never begging for a laugh, and, perhaps to the surprise of many, he was also a perfect gentleman. When I was a lowly peon toiling in the mailroom of Castle Rock Entertainment, Baldwin had an overall deal and an office at the Beverly Hills headquarters. Again, he was never less than cordial and even gave each of the mailroom guys a bottle of nice wine and a personally-signed card for Christmas. Thus, I felt the old adage of "never meet your heroes" didn't apply to Baldwin. After hearing the now-infamous phone message to his daughter, my first instinct was to thank my lucky stars that I'm not his kid. Then I listened to the message again, and while I don't condone that brand of parenting, I have to admit it made me laugh a little bit. I knew I shouldn't, but he's just that damn funny.

While we're on the subject, I suppose I should remind the seven of you reading this to watch an all-new episode of "Heroes" this evening. I like the show, but can't say I love it. It sits on my TiVo all week long, starts to feel like a chore, then I watch it and enjoy it. Don't really know why I'm not all in on that show.

And I should take this opportunity to plug perhaps the greatest hero I've ever had. Though they call them hoagies, La Spada's in Ft. Lauderdale has mastered the art of the submarine sandwich. For starters, the bread is perfect. Then they layer on the meat which is sliced fresh right in front of you, pile on as many fixins as you desire, then add another layer of meat! Crazy, right? But they don't stop there... They take the knife and perform a delicate procedure called a "tuck under", whereby the top layer of meat is tucked under the bottom layer to create a unified sandwich. You can't believe how good the whole thing goes down. Here's the kicker: Since the airlines decided to cut costs by not feeding us real food on the plane, I try to pack a delicious meal for myself and call it a mile high feast. When I asked the fine folks at La Spada's if there was any way they could keep the sandwich from getting soggy while I flew cross-country, they knew just what I needed... The Fisherman's Drop. Before laying down the first layer of meat, they place a piece of wax paper on top of the bread and build the hero from there. When it comes time to eat, say halfway through my Delta Song flight when I'm watching the E! True Hollywood Story of The Hilton Sisters for the umpteenth time, I politely request a Canada Dry Ginger Ale from the stewardess, take out my sub, carefully remove the wax paper, and -- Voila! The Fisherman's Drop!

In an attempt to find some kind of cohesion to all this, I turn to Bowie:

I
I wish you could swim
Like the dolphins
Like the dolphins can swim
Though nothing
Though nothing will keep us together
We can beat them
Forever and ever
Oh we can be heroes
Just for one day

I
I will be king
And you
You will be queen
Though nothing
Will drive them away
We can heroes
Just for one day
We can be us
Just for one day

I
I remember I remember
Standing
By the wall by the wall
The guns
Shot about our heads all about our heads
And we kissed
As though
Nothing could fall nothing could fall
And the shame
Was on the other side
Oh we can beat them
Forever and ever
We can be heroes
Just for one day

We can be heroes
We can be heroes
We can be heroes
Just for one day

All right, maybe that didn't tie everything together the way I thought it would, but that is one incredible song...

420

It's 4:20 on 4/20... I'm just sayin'...

THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY... NIGHT LIGHTS

I watch a lot of TV. I mean, a lot. Because I work in television, I can justify it as career-related viewing, but I must admit I'm a slave to the vidiot box and a wee bit TiVo-obsessed. Not only do I consume as much as I possibly can in prime time, but there are three shows I record and watch on a daily basis without fail -- Boy Meets Grill, Pardon the Interruption, and The Daily Show. In all my hours logged on the couch with magical TiVo remote in hand, I believe I have earned the right to declare Friday Night Lights the best show on television this season.



For starters, the show features perhaps my favorite opening credit sequence in television history.



To paraphrase an old Sam Cooke song, I don't know much about chemistry. But I do know that combining the right elements and finding the formula for making a television show or movie pop off the screen is incredibly daunting and elusive work. Of course, it all starts with the writing. (Predictable, coming from a writer.) The DNA for a successful project is naturally encoded in the script. Best case scenario, the teleplay or screenplay is a work of art in itself. But those honors are reserved for an elite few. More often than not, the words aren't perfect, the plot doesn't fully make sense, and the characters aren't quite three-dimensional yet. But if it's in the genes, it's in the genes. Script doctors, directors, and actors exist to flesh those things out anyway, right? (Such a writery writer thing to say.) Every once in a while, it all comes together. The script is gold, the actors are perfectly cast and bring the characters to life in a way previously unimaginable to the writer, and the executive producer or director creates an environment conducive to collaboration while still demonstrating a singular vision in guiding the process. It happens. Just not very often. In recent television history, it definitely happened with The Sopranos and Six Feet Under. It happened with Seinfeld and The West Wing. Imagine Entertainment pulled if off a few years ago with Arrested Development. And now they have done it again with Friday Night Lights.



As Coach Eric Taylor and his wife Tami, respectively, Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton deliver nuanced and soulful performances on a variety of levels. They serve as the backbone of an outstanding ensemble cast (including the smoking-hot Minka Kelly) that is lucky enough to work with phenomenal scripts and producers who obviously know their way around video village. It all works. The alchemy is simply perfect.



Unfortunately, besides the converted few who I'm preaching to, people didn't watch. Despite heaps of critical praise, the show struggled in the Nielsen ratings all season long and never really showed much audience growth as it progressed. NBC is not a strong enough network right now to adequately promote the quality shows they do have on the air because they don't have the blockbuster hits to lean on for support. Maybe the show is too smart for the average bear. Maybe its target audience is playing video games and surfin' the net instead of watching TV these days. Maybe it stumbled out of the gate, numbers-wise, and could never quite recover its stride. Maybe it aired on the wrong night. (Geeky admission: I TiVo the show and save it for Friday nights where I feel it belongs.) Whatever the case may be, it's a real shame. People are missing out. To put the numbers in perspective, the over-hyped and overblown "Desperate Housewives" draws three times the weekly audience that FNL does. I've watched both shows and can say unequivocally that there is no comparison when it comes to quality. In fact, Friday Nights Lights just might be the anti-Desperate Housewives.



Growing up, when my friends and I liked some slice of entertainment, we would repeat an exhausted cliche in a world-weary voice, "I laughed, I cried, it became a part of me." As much as it pains me not to have access to better words than those to describe my emotional involvement with the show, the cliche holds absolutely true. As long as you imagine me saying it with the world-weariest of tones, I may still cling to a shred of dignity as a writer. But this isn't about me. If you didn't watch this season when it aired, do yourself a favor and watch Friday Night Lights in reruns this summer or get the damn DVD as soon as it comes out. And don't be a schmuck by accidentally bringing home the DVD of the film. The movie's all right, but it's not even qualified to hold the TV show's jock strap.



Clear eyes... full hearts... can't lose.

SEE IT FROM ABOVE AND JUST SHOW UP



Though he may not be The Godfather, he is my godfather. And he happens to be one of the greatest people I know. David Schiffer has been a role model, a surrogate father, and a best friend to me since I was born. He and his amazing wife Linda, their son Mark, and daughter Taryn have become my second family. On David's urging, I stayed with them for the entire year in 2000 while I was writing a screenplay. Not only did he refuse to accept rent from me, but he and Linda loved me, fed me, and bought me a gym membership as a birthday gift. They supported my endeavor and believed in me. At the time, David was starting up a software business and working like a dog to get it off the ground. Suffice it to say, it has since taken off. His company, Safe Banking Systems, develops and distributes software to major banks around the world, all in the pursuit of nabbing money launderers. Long Island Business News recently did a profile of David and SBS that better explains the ins and outs of his complicated job. In a way, you could say he's a white-collar version of Jack Bauer.



Maybe not. But he is fond of passing on the wisdom he has acquired over the years. The first of his favorite sayings is, "See It From Above." This advice was usually given when my less-than-stellar sense of direction frustrated him. He told me to think of driving directions as if I was looking down from a satellite. I thought it was also a great metaphor for life (as he intended). If you remove yourself from the situation long enough to see it from above, you can gain perspective on just about anything. Schiffer's second favorite saying is, "Just Show Up." This applies to the whole of life as well. Be the kind of person who always shows up when needed, whether expected of you or not. In its complete version, the phrase actually reads, "Just Show Up, You'll Figure Out What To Do When You Get There." I honestly have no idea if these aphorisms are going to read corny or not, but I can attest to them as words to live by. Schiffer has always showed up for me. And I don't need to see it from above to know that he is a truly special person. Love ya, Davey Baby.