How To Get Your TV Fix This Summer (Without Watching True Blood

A thoughtfully funny priest, a bumbling spy and a downright Biblical clash of Kings provide a great antidote to vampires and werewolves.

Clockwise from top left: Jay Harrington and Portia de Rossi in Better Off Ted; Chris Egan in Kings; Jude Wright and Darren Boyd in Spy; and Tom Hollander in Rev.

With May sweeps a distant memory and early-summer series like Game of Thrones already finished, summer TV epitomizes Minow's famous "vast wasteland." Although many cable networks are starting to challenge traditional scheduling, the current television landscape consists mostly of reruns, reality series and True Blood. Even Doctor Who, normally a godsend for those of us who prefer quality programming to baking on the beach (not everyone tans, and not all of us enjoy slathering on SPF 1500 and donning a hat just so we can watch other people brown) has taken an extended hiatus, and won't be returning until an unspecified date in the fall.

Luckily, we live in an age of streaming video and HD laptop displays, which means that a world of TV is sitting at our fingertips, waiting for us to dispel the summer doldrums and dive right in. If you find yourself with some extra time between barbecues and beach parties, these five series are well worth your time and energy (and, in some cases, the cost of an Amazon Prime subscription).

Spy

Who should watch: Anyone who misses the covert ops shenanigans of Archer and adores Community's genre parodies.

Available on: Hulu

Hulu has become a great source of less-known British television, and Spy is one of the streaming service's best offerings. The show's protagonist, Tim (Darren Boyd), is a middle-aged loser working in an electronics store and fighting for the love (and custody rights) of his precocious, witheringly critical son Marcus (Jude Wright) when he stumbles into the wrong civil service exam and ends up as an MI6 agent. Spy combines the best elements of several shows - the set-up is pure Chuck, the portrayal of MI6 is right out of the Archer playbook, and later episodes have Marcus starring in parodies of gangster movies and Westerns that could have teleported in from Community - but the show makes them its own. Spy features a great cast of supporting characters (I'm a particular fan of Mathew Baynton's Chris), but the whole enterprise is anchored by the prickly, hilarious, often cruel and occasionally sweet relationship between Tim and Marcus, whose odd couple banter is like nothing else on TV.

Five reasons The Vampire Diaries is better than True Blood

Left: Nina Dobrev on The Vampire Diaries. Right: Rutina Wesley on True Blood.

Spring has officially ended, and the good TV shows have gone the way of non-sweltering weather and the snowdrops outside my old apartment. (On a side note, I have a new apartment now, and my move from the one to the other is what has kept me from blogging. It takes a long time to assemble an entire apartment's worth of Ikea furniture.) Game of Thrones finished off its phenomenal second season with a threat from the perpetually icy North, and was replaced on HBO's Sunday night schedule with the considerably muggier atmosphere of Bon Temps, Louisiana, and the baffling fifth season of True Blood

At this point in its lifespan, True Blood mostly exists as a reminder of how much I miss the CW's infinitely superior supernatural thriller The Vampire Diaries. (Also as a way to see Alexander Skarsgard nude.) So, to honor the return of Bill, Eric, Jessica and Sookie's magic fairy vagina, let's take a look at a few of the many, many things that The Vampire Diaries does better than True Blood. (Note: SPOILERS for the third season of The Vampire Diaries and every season of True Blood abound.)

No irrelevant side plots that distract from the action

True Blood's first season (which seems so long ago) was almost entirely focused on a single storyline: the serial killer targeting women who had sex with vampires. Yes, there were digressions here and there where Sookie lost her virginity to Bill and Jason got addicted to V, but the action was all driven by the main plot and the problems it posed to the residents of Bon Temps. Not coincidentally, the first season was the high point of the show, which has since degenerated into a shapeless mass of unrelated stories stitched together into a tonally incoherent mess.

The Vampire Diaries, on the other hand, has a talent for pulling every side story, no matter how irrelevant it may seem, into the main thrust of the action. You might think that Tyler becoming a werewolf has nothing to do with the threat of the Originals, but then Klaus turns him into a hybrid and a whole new, emotionally compelling storyline is born. Elena's concussion might have seemed like a cheap way to build tension, but it paid off in spades when she drowned after being cured with vampire blood and turned into a blood-sucker. Speaking of which...

Why The Vampire Diaries' most important theme is family

Ian Somerhalder and Paul Wesley as Damon and Stefan Salvatore. Source.

If you, unlike me, aren't absolutely obsessed with The Vampire Diaries, you might think that the show is mostly about romantic entanglements. The CW certainly markets it by playing up the love triangle between Stefan, Damon and Elena, and the most vocal 'shipper camps are those of Delena and Stelena.

I, however, belong to neither of those teams. I am firmly in the camp known as Team Salvatore, the one that roots for Damon and Stefan. (NOT in a sexual way, people, so get your minds out of the gutter.)

The thing is, The Vampire Diaries is at its most compelling when it focuses on the relationship between the brothers. The most recent episode, "1912," was just one of the many hours that benefited from keeping the story largely confined to Damon and Stefan. There was some stuff happening with Elena and Matt in the background, and the requisite final-scene cliffhanger was all about Alaric, but the real heart of the episode came from watching Damon trying to save Stefan from himself.

This isn't anything that we haven't seen before. In this particular iteration of the Damon and Stefan relationship, Damon spent the hour convincing Stefan that quitting human blood cold-turkey would only lead to more problems. At other points throughout the series, the Salvatore story lines have seen Stefan giving himself to Klaus to save Damon's life, Damon trying to bring Stefan back from his heartless, bloodlust-induced rampage, and Stefan refusing to kill Damon even after his brother has murdered his best friend.

These stories work, instead of just getting tiresome and repetitive, partially because of the incredible quality of the series' writing, but mostly because the series always insists on the importance of the Salvatore brothers' relationship above all else. The show says this outright when Elena, heartbroken from the loss of Stefan, tells Damon that he is the only one who can bring Stefan back. Stefan may love Elena, but his connection with Damon will always be stronger.

This focus on family ties over romance might seem odd for a show that many people think of as a mere Twilight knockoff. First, let it be stated that The Vampire Diaries is not only better than that other teenage supernatural love triangle - largely because Elena Gilbert has more agency in her little finger than Bella Swan has in her entire pouty body, but also because the bloodsuckers on The Vampire Diaries are real vampires who burn in the sun, and who do not fucking sparkle - it's also better than HBO's True Blood. I suspect that people would be more willing to accept this fact if TVD aired on a different network and had a different name. As it is, the writers spend each week giving a master class in television writing only to be ignored in favor of the increasingly schizophrenic True Blood.

Second, when you really start to watch the show, you notice that familial relationships are always the main focus. Whether you're talking about the Salvatores, the Originals, the Forbes or the Lockwoods, brothers and sisters and parents and children are always front and center. The very structure of Mystic Falls is dependent on a group of so-called "founding families," for god's sake. It's all right there, hidden in plain sight.

This season's Original Family arc has made the theme even more clear. One of the things that particular story hit on brilliantly was the way that complicated family dynamics tend to reduce even the most self-sufficient, powerful people to children. (This is, essentially, the same observation that animated the recent, excellent Simpsons episode "Holidays of Future Passed.") Klaus, the invincible werewolf/vampire hybrid, is really just lashing out as his parents for their dishonesty. Rebekah is reduced to a bratty, rebellious teenager when faced with her brothers' disapproval. Elijah is torn between absolute love for his mother and her hatred of his very being.

These vampires could eat the world alive if they wanted to, but instead they squabble and tease. And, much like the Salvatores, their love for one another almost always prevails. Even the Original's mythology is built on a familial structure; there wouldn't be such a thing as vampires were it not for a mother's desire to protect her children.

The show is also filled with a myriad of smaller moments between family members, and those moments are where The Vampire Diaries' heart can be found. Caroline's fractured, broken relationship with her father is moving because she is willing to look past every terrible thing he has done if only he'll go back to loving her unconditionally. When vampire Anna tries to communicate with Jeremy from beyond the grave, it's not because she wants his love, but because she's lonely and can't find her mother. Even Carol Lockwood, one of the show's least interesting characters, gets her moment to shine when her son, Tyler, forces her to watch him transform into a werewolf so that she can understand his pain.

When you start reading The Vampire Diaries as a show about the importance of family above all else, you can also begin to tease out where the series' real tragedy lies. The show can be seen as the slow, systematic loss of everyone in Elena Gilbert's family: her adoptive parents, her mother Isobel, her father John, Aunt Jenna. Now, with Jeremy away and Alaric slowly going insane, Elena is completely alone. She's missing the network of family who can love and protect her when no one else, not even Stefan or Damon, can.

Looking at Elena's situation this way adds a whole new layer to her confession to Matt, the show's other orphan, about why she fell in love with Stefan. When I first watched "1912," her blunt statement that she loved Stefan because he would never die seemed too simple, too reductive, to really work. Thinking back on it now, however, it makes perfect sense. As everyone in Elena's family has been taken away from her, it makes complete sense that she would latch on to someone who would never leave. Elena's reason for falling in love with Stefan isn't simple or reductive; it's an expression of the fundamental importance of family, one that gets right to the core of Elena Gilbert and of The Vampire Diaries.

Some suggestions for the new True Blood showrunner

Photo courtesy of thehollywoodgossip.com.

TVLine reported yesterday that Alan Ball, creator of Six Feet Under and True Blood, will be leaving the vampire drama after the show's fifth season, according to HBO:

“When we extended our multi-year overall deal with Alan Ball in July 2011, we always intended that if we proceeded to True Blood’s sixth season that Alan would take a supervisory role on the series and not be the day-to-day showrunner. If we proceed to season six, the show will remain in the very capable hands of the talented team of writers and producers who have been with the show for a number of years. This is the best possible world for both HBO and Alan Ball.”

Sookie's single, Marnie's gone, and someone amazing has returned!

Alice (Joe Manganiello) comes to an unfortunate realization in "And When I Die," the fourth season finale of True Blood. Photo courtesy of washingtonpost.com.

(There are going to be all sorts of SPOILERS here, so for the love of God, if you haven't yet watched "And When I Die," stop reading.)

Russell Motherfucking Edgington is BACK!

I realize that lots and lots of other stuff happened in the fourth season finale of True Blood, but the single most exciting development (and the only real reason I have to tune in next summer) is the return of Denis O'Hare's batshit, psychotic, blood-crazed villain. Russell's on-air rant in season three was the high point of the show so far, and O'Hare's delightfully insane performance is sure to add a welcome dose of balls-out crazy to season five. The only thing that would have been better would have been Russell's actual, physical presence in the episode, but I guess you can't have everything, and in the case of the wildly uneven finale, it's best to just take what you can get.

As promising as Russell's return is, it doesn't make up for the boredom that pervaded much of the season finale. For every really good scene there were two or three snoozers that provided only the most predictable, perfunctory resolution without bothering to inject any suspense into the proceedings. With the exception of the fantastically tense scene between Lafayette-as-Marnie and Jesus in Lafayette's kitchen, the final resolution to the witch storyline was every kind of dull; even the kitchen scene was only really interesting because of the great performances by Nelsan Ellis and Kevin Alejandro. The final resolution was mostly about various other spirits, including Adele Stackhouse and Antonia, convincing Marnie that it was her time to move on. This is not The Ghost Whisperer, people! This is a show about vampires having sex and killing people, not about ghosts convincing other ghosts to "go gentle into that good night." True Blood is not cut out for subtlety.

The follow-up to that scene was even worse. The scene - in which Sookie breaks up with both Bill and Eric because she has finally realized that, just maybe, it's okay to be single for five seconds - seems interminably long, and does no favors to Stephen Moyer and Alexander Skarsgard. Both vampires have spent inordinate amounts of time this season (and in other seasons) mooning over Sookie, and it is not flattering for either man. Here's hoping this break-up reminds them that they are strong, sexy, dangerous vampires, not lovesick teenagers. In the words of the fantastic Pam, "I am so over Sookie and her precious fairy vagina and her unbelievably stupid name. Fuck Sookie!" I have never agreed more with a character on this show than I did with Pam at that moment.

On the bright side, the episode's final act provided viewers with some excellent Bill and Eric action. When Nan Flanagan showed up in order to convince them to side with her in a mutiny against the AVL and the Authority, they responded to her taunts by removing her bodyguards' heads (Eric) and staking Nan herself (Bill). The scene was even topped off by some classic Eric snark, as he looks at the heap of gore that was formerly Nan and smirks, "What a bitch." This is the Bill and Eric I want to see next season. It would be even more awesome if they teamed up with Russell to take down the Authority.

Another promising development - Tara is dead! It's not that I necessarily dislike the character, it's that the writers have turned her into such a victimized, pathetic, angry, and completely one-dimensional basket case over the course of the series that her absence will be welcome. It reflects badly on the writing staff that the death of a character is less offensive than her continued existence. Let's hope Rutina Wesley can find herself a better job in the future. And if she could get one for Britt Morgan, whose trashy Debbie Pelt died after shooting Tara, so much the better.

In other news, Jessica and Jason are now sex buddies, which is great because... sorry, I got distracted for a second thinking about naked Jason and Jessica in her slutty Little Red Riding Hood costume. I'm just assuming there will be more of this hotness forthcoming next season, and I think I can live with that.

In other cliffhanger news: ghost Rene turns up to warn Arlene that Terry is dangerous, which is presumably related to the appearance of his old army buddy Scott Foley (Scrubs' Sean and Felicity's Noel); Sam is being menaced by a werewolf; Holly and Andy are maybe going to hook up; and Steve Newlin is back! As a vampire! That last one is actually pretty cool, and I can really see it going somewhere. If Bill and Eric don't team up with Russell, maybe Steve will.

Stray thoughts:

• I'm not usually a big fan of subplots that go nowhere, but I will be really happy if we never see Hotshot again. Same goes for the fairies.
• Arlene's line about zombies being the new vampires would have been a funny meta joke if it wasn't so obvious the writers were trying to make it a funny meta joke.
• Bill and Eric's matching bathrobes were adorable!
• I didn't get to this in the recap proper, but I am very sad about Jesus' death. Kevin Alejandro, you will be missed.
• I really don't understand why everyone wants to get involved with Sookie. Alcide is the latest addition to the I-love-Sookie bandwagon, and it keeps getting more baffling.
• "I'm Janelle from Teen Mom 2"
• The Vampire Diaries comes back on Thursdays! Who's ready for a show with consistent characters, writers who understand suspense, and excellent pacing?

The Nielsen system obviously isn't working, but can it be fixed?

Fringe is generally considered a ratings failure for FOX, despite garnering the same number of viewers as The Walking Dead, which was considered a smash hit for cable network AMC. Photos courtesy of tvfanatic.com and eonline.com.

The Huffington Post recently published an article decrying the current Nielsen rating system. "TV Ratings: Are We Looking At Them All Wrong?" is an interesting read that nicely details the problems with the Nielsen rating system and ways in which it may or may not be evolving to suit the needs of the digital age. It's also, however, a painfully obvious rehash of things that bloggers, critics and creators have been pointing out for years. Yes, the Nielsen rating system is obviously becoming obsolete in an era where many viewers watch TV on their laptops and cell phones, and yes, network executives and advertisers need to completely rethink the way in which they look at a given series' popularity. Anyone who knows anything about television knows that. The problem is that reworking the system to suit an increasingly digital, fragmented landscape is going to be massively complicated and full of holes.

One of the major problems with the current ratings system - as any critic will tell you - is the way in which the Nielsen rating of a given show has become the major indicator of whether or not that show will get picked up for another season. The way the Nielsen ratings of a given show are constantly hyped, distributed and analyzed by critics and viewers alike has led to a perception that a show's Nielsen number is the be-all and end-all of that show's future. As an ardent Fringe fan, I experienced this first-hand over the last year. Every Friday morning (Saturday morning after the show was moved) I would check the previous night's ratings, desperate to know whether they had fallen or risen, hoping that my show would be saved even as I watched the numbers slowly decline.

But then something wonderful happened: the show was renewed! Fringe will be coming back for a fourth season after a fantastic, action-packed, emotional, shocking finale that was seen by less than 4 million viewers. And I have to attribute this to the FOX network executives - who I don't want to let off the hook completely, as they often make some head-scratchingly bad decisions - understanding a new reality of television: that maybe having a niche show with four or five million devoted, engaged viewers is just as good as having a monster hit.

The thing is, there aren't a lot of monster hits anymore. Any network exec aiming for a new Seinfeld or M*A*S*H or even a Lost is going to be disappointed, because that's not the way the market works anymore. Cable programming has turned TV into a niche viewing experience where people can choose from hundreds of options rather than three or four. This has resulted in an increasingly fragmented - and, in my view, increasingly diverse and high-quality - viewing experience. The explosion of well-made, artistically important television in the last ten years has been unprecedented. The upside is that there is more choice than ever out there for viewers, and more high-quality programming than ever before. The downside is that the sheer number of options drives down the numbers for any single program, and the current rating system has no way to account for that.

As choices increase, the very idea of a "major" network is becoming obsolete. Many of the most buzzed-about shows on the major networks - ABC, NBC, CBS and FOX - are drawing in audiences comparable to those of cable series. In particular, shows whose demographics skew younger, such as Community, 30 Rock, Fringe and Parks and Recreation have low Nielsen numbers. These shows also happen to be the ones that advertisers covet, as they draw in the all-important 18-34 demographic.

These shows draw lower ratings for a number of reasons, but one that proves a major problem for the current system is the fact that this demographic is more likely to watch TV on their laptops or phones, as opposed to their TVs. As a 22-year-old student who doesn't own a television, I can tell you that most of my viewing happens on Hulu.com. Unfortunately for the shows I love, online numbers are only taken into account several days after an episode has aired; the number that gets publicized the morning after is the number of people who belong to Nielsen families and who watch the shows on TV. The fact that Nielsen boxes generally go to families also skews the ratings, because anyone who has ever watched TV with their parents can tell you that it often isn't their first choice of programming.

The obvious way to fix this problem would be to count Internet viewers right along with TV viewers. Watching TV on the internet, however, is an entirely different beast than watching it live, and it one that advertisers don't like as much. One of the great benefits of Hulu is the fact that, rather than having to watch twenty minutes of commercials interspersed with your show, you only have to see four or five thirty-second ads. The problem here is that advertisers want you to watch their ads on TV, all twenty minutes of them, rather than just seeing a few per episode online. And yes, the ads online can theoretically be more targeted than ads on TV, which is good for advertisers, but tell that to the damn Geico ads that plague my viewing experience despite the fact that I don't own a car.

The solution to this problem could be to offer a subscription service. Hulu is doing this with Hulu Plus, which costs eight dollars a month but offers more episodes, classic TV shows, and movies, all free of commercials. There have also been a lot of rumors going around that eventually Hulu will become a subscribers-only service. The major problem here, however, is that people are used to getting at least some TV for free, and while about half the households in the US are paying for some variety of cable, it's going to be hard to get people to forget about the fifty-plus years they spent getting their television for free. (I know some of you are going to draw a parallel here with the way that people were getting their music for free until iTunes came along, and now they're perfectly happy paying, but it's not the same thing. I came of age during the Napster era, but I still spent most of my life buying CDs, so it wasn't a huge shock to me to pay for music on iTunes. In fact, it saved me a lot of money on music.)

Another problem with asking people to subscribe to a streaming video service is that there are plenty of ways to watch TV online for free. They may not be strictly legal, and they may not always be the best quality, but they give those of us without TVs an opportunity to watch not only major network shows, but basic cable and premium channel shows as well. As long as those alternatives are out there, a sizable percentage of the young population (most of my friends included) is not going to pay to watch TV. Particularly if the cable companies keep jacking up their prices - cable costs rise on average 5% a year in the US, and they're not going to stop any time soon.

The point I'm trying to make in this incredibly roundabout way is that there is no way to really fix the Nielsen ratings so that they account for all the people who watch any given show. I haven't even gotten to the people who watch past TV seasons on DVD, or who buy the episodes from iTunes or Amazon. There is some talk of using a vague metric of "engagement" - according to the HuffPost article, Nielsen is also tracking "online discussions, Twitter feeds, Facebook shares and all the other ways that TV fans are interacting with their favorite shows online" - but this concept is nebulous at best and, given the TV shows that are most covered online, would probably lead you to believe that True Blood and Mad Men are the most popular shows on television. The real trick to figuring out a show's popularity in the digital age is going to be combining the traditional viewer count with online numbers and popularity metrics like discussion boards and Facebook and trying to plug the holes as they come up. It's not an easy task, but it could help little shows like Fringe survive as long as they deserve.

How To Fix "True Blood" and "Torchwood"

Two of these things are awesome, and one is not. I'll let you guess which is which. Photo courtesy of ology.com

I've been complaining a lot about True Blood and Torchwood: Miracle Day recently. This is partly because there's nothing else on and I have to write about something, and partly because neither show is... well, good. Torchwood is probably more offensively bad, but that's largely due to the heightened expectations created by Children of Earth. Season 3 of True Blood didn't leave me with much hope, so there was less distance to fall.

However, I'm a television believer; I'm not going to completely write off a show because of a bad season or two (unless that show is Glee, which I've just about given up on). So, in the spirit of constructive criticism, I'm going to offer three suggestions to improve these shows, along with examples of shows that get it right. Listen up, Alan Ball and Russell T. Davies, and maybe think about implementing these next season.

1. Plot balance is hard to achieve, but that doesn't mean it's unimportant.

True Blood and Miracle Day lie of the opposite end of the plot balance spectrum; the former is overplotted to the point of chaos, while almost nothing happens on the latter. True Blood needs to make any given plot point last for more than one scene, while Torchwood needs to lose the episodes that don't advance the plot, like last week's "The Middle Men."

Who does it right: The Vampire Diaries

Unlike Miracle Day, The Vampire Diaries is driven by an unstoppable forward momentum that is constantly driving the action. However, she show also knows when a plot point is worthy of playing out over several episodes. The backstory of the sun and moon curse was one of these plot points, unlike Eric's amnesia storyline on True Blood, which is rapidly squandering all the enthusiasm I used to have for it.

2. Trim the fat.

Both these shows have characters and storylines that are boring, annoying, and distracting to the point where they stop the action dead every time they appear. True Blood suffers every time Tara, Debbie and Alcide or the Hotshot werepanthers take center-stage, while Torchwood's Esther Drummond sucks the life from the screen with every appearance. Get rid of them and viewers won't feel the need to channel surf every time they pop up.

Who does it right: Game of Thrones

For a show with a huge number of characters to keep track of, there are none that fail to command attention during their time in the spotlight. There was no point during Game of Thrones' first season when I found myself wishing that a scene would hurry up and end so I could get back to the "good" characters. I certainly can't say the same for either True Blood or Torchwood.

3. Give the show some stakes.

True Blood's biggest problem is that viewers have been trained never to worry about any of the characters, because any dangerous situation will invaribly resolved in the next scene. Torchwood's problem is that the very premise of "Miracle Day" gets rid of death. Vera's demise two episodes ago should have solved this problem by demonstrating that people can, in fact, still die, but the stakes were no higher in the last episode than they had been before. Even Jack's mortality has done nothing to create danger, since his storyline hasn't involved any injuries worse than a papercut since he was poisoned in the second episode. Ironic, since this is the same show that shocked viewers by killing Ianto Jones in Children of Earth.

Who does it right: Battlestar Galactica

The first season may have ended with Bill Adama shot, not beheaded (it's not like the show was written by George R.R. Martin), but the threat of death has been pervasive since the beginning. Opening a show with the near-extinction of humanity will do that. The many deaths that followed only reinforced the sense that anyone could die at any moment, particularly if that character had spent the episode finding happiness and redemption. I have five more episodes to watch, and I'm willing to bet that at least half the original cast bites it before the end, even if all that's left of humanity manages to hang on. The constant threat that the human race will be lost to the universe forever; now, those are some serious stakes.

True Blood: Eric's Vampire Nature

David Tennant as the Doctor in "Human Nature" and Alexander Skarsgard as Eric in "You Smell Like Dinner." Photos courtesy of danowen.blogspot.com and breesays.buzznet.com.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love the Doctor Who two-parter "Human Nature"/"The Family of Blood," and anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis knows that I am enjoying the hell out of Eric's amnesia storyline on True Blood. It wasn't until the most recent episode, "I Wish I Was the Moon," that I realized that these two things were connected. Much of my fascination with the new, memory-wiped Eric Northman has to do with my deep and abiding love for those two Doctor Who episodes.

I put this together during the last episode, when Eric, captured by Bill and knowing that he was about to face the "true death," told Pam that he didn't want to become the "viking god" Eric again; that he didn't want to know the man who, along with Pam, "killed and fucked" his way through humanity. Sweet, guileless new Eric wanted to remain the man he had become, the man who loved Sookie and would do anything to protect her. Anyone who has seen "Human Nature" and "The Family of Blood" will see the similarities. In these episodes, David Tennant's Doctor becomes completely and fully human in order to escape from the titular ruthless family. He settles down in England under the name John Smith, teaching at a boy's school and falling in love with Joan Redfern (Jessica Stevenson). He knows nothing of his past as The Doctor.

Eric's line to Pam is heavily reminiscent of John Smith's reaction when he finds out his true identity, and is forced to make a choice: whether to remain John Smith and live happily with Joan, or whether to become the Doctor, the man who is "like night and the storm and the heart of the sun." When told by his companion Martha that the Doctor never gave her instructions on what to do if he should fall in love, he is horrified, fearful of dying in order to become a man to whom it would never occur that he might fall in love. It makes his ultimate decision to turn back into the Doctor and save the world painful and tragic rather than triumphant, and emphasizes the loneliness of the last Time Lord.

The Doctor and Eric are similar characters in many ways, even without their amnesia arcs echoing one another. They are both deeply lonely men, constantly living with the knowledge that they are different and that they cannot have the one thing they want: love, whether it be with Joan Redfern or Sookie Stackhouse. Eric is violent and frightening, but the Doctor is as well, a man whose name in Lorna Bucket's language does not mean "healer," but "warrior." And they are both marked by deep tragedy; Eric by the murders of his family and the death of his maker, the Doctor by the extinction of his own people at his hands. The personas they take on when their memories are lost are their only chance at redemption. Redemption through love.

I know, as (I hope) do the True Blood writers, that Eric can't remain amnesiac forever. The vampires need their Viking God to defeat the witch who wants them all to burn. Bill needs his sheriff. Pam needs her maker. Having seen "Human Nature" and "The Family of Blood," I know how Eric's relationship with Sookie must end. As beautiful and hopeful as he is now, he must at some point go back to being his true self, and break her heart in the process. Let's just hope that, like the Doctor, he learns a few things along the way.

True Blood: Is Bill Compton the new Eric Northman?

Alexander Skarsgard's Eric taking orders from Stephen Moyer's Bill, now the King of Louisiana. Photo courtesy of bestfantasystories.com.

After watching the most recent episode of True Blood, "If you love me, why am I dyin'?" I started to rethink my previous appraisal of the show. I didn't drastically rethink it - I still think that the many plots are probably never going to converge, and I still intensely dislike anything having to do with fairies - but I think that there is definitely some interesting character development going on, particularly as pertains to Alexander Skarsgard's Eric Northman and Stephen Moyer's Bill Compton.

Eric has always been my favorite True Blood character, and not just because he is a flawless slab of Nordic beauty (although that certainly helps). The character's appeal always stemmed, at least to me, from his supreme confidence, sharp wit, and the sense of danger that was always palpable in his presence. While I'm not hating amnesiac Eric as much as I thought - "I know I'm a vampire Snooki" was one of the funniest lines I've heard in a while, delivered with the kind of superb inflection only Skarsgard can muster - I suspect that stripping the show's most appealing character of his personality is going to get really old, really fast.

Bill's transformation, however, has brought nothing but good things to the character. The power with which he commands his subordinates is thrilling, as is his new playboy persona. In the last episode, when telling Portia Bellefleur that he could never love her, he veered dangerously close to old, mopey Bill, but he more than made up for that in the scene when he coldly and calmly ordered the execution of a vampire who had the misfortune to be caught feeding on camera. Bill's unruffled exterior when passing this judgement, and the icy detachment with which he proclaimed himself the Authority, was fantastic. It lent his character a dangerous edge that carried through to the next scene, when he sweetly advised Jessica to tell Hoyt about her infidelity.

The character arcs here are interesting, because Bill has essentially become Eric and vice versa. Bill now has the sauve exterior (although let's be real here, there's no comparison), the dangerous side just waiting to be unleashed, and a sweet maker-progeny relationship with Jessica, similar to the one Eric has with Pam (with the caveat that, as much as I love Jessica, she will never be as awesome as Pam). Eric, meanwhile, has all the sweet guilelessness and honesty that (Sookie thought) Bill had when he first arrived on the scene, as well as a willingness to do anything, including turn on a fellow vampire, to protect Sookie even as his very presence puts her in danger. Now all he needs to really embrace the role is a bad haircut, a generally mopey demeanor, and a bizarre pronunciation of "Sookie." (It should also be noted here that, while Bill is certainly not as attractive as Eric, his hair is drastically better this season.)

I'm interested to hear what you think. Do you agree with my observations, or do you think I'm completely misinterpreting the character arcs? Can Bill ever be as awesome as Eric? (He can't, in case you were wondering.) And how many episodes can this innocent-Eric thing last before it stopbs being cute and becomes incredibly irritating?

Review: "True Blood" Season 4

A very shirtless Eric Northman (Alexander Skarsgard) in "You Smell Like Dinner," the second episode of True Blood's fourth season. Photo courtesy of nydailynews.com.

I've been entirely too spoiled by The Vampire Diaries' breakneck pacing, consistent characters and snappy writing to think of True Blood as anything but an inferior knockoff (despite the fact that the HBO series premiered before TVD). I'm still watching the fourth season, largely because it is summer and there is nothing else on, but I'm treating it as a soapy, sexy diversion rather than an actual TV show with believable characters, coherent storylines, or dramatic stakes. This is not only making it much easier to watch - it also keeps me from spiraling into depression when I remember that, a mere three weeks ago, this time slot was occupied by the far superior Game of Thrones.

Since I no longer have any emotional investment in any of the characters, I will evaluate the storylines based on their potential for interesting character development (not much) and hot guys getting naked (lots and lots). As such, the opening scene of the season premiere - in which Sookie made it to Fairyland, only to discover that it was actually an illusion that covered up a nasty, goblin-ridden desert in which you could be trapped by eating glowing fruit - did almost nothing for me. It's been quite a while since I cared even a little bit about Sookie's problems, and this bizarre moment did not make me care about them more. Even the death of her grandfather, Earl Stackhouse, from light fruit-related causes was underwhelming, largely because it is now a given that, if Sookie cares about someone, a shitstorm of trouble is about to come their way. The extremely obvious Persephone overtones that went with the scene did not make it any better.

One storyline, however, that does have potential is Bill's ascension to the title of Vampire King of Louisiana. I've never hated Bill as much as some people do, but I did find his constant moping over Sookie, not to mention his complete lack of understanding of just why she might not trust him, extremely irritating. However, based on the first two episodes King Bill is a vast improvement; not only does he have a much better house, he's powerful, sleeping with various hot ladies, and can order Eric around. I'm hoping that he has actually moved on from Sookie, and that we're not going to find out that he's really just hiding from his love for her or some other buzzkill like that.

Now that Bill has seemingly moved on, Sookie is finally free to get together with Eric. Now, I knew that Eric's (SPOILER ALERT) memory loss was coming, but I'm still not happy about it. I liked the idea of Sookie playing games with Eric, who now owns her house and wants to own her as well. I love Eric just the way he is, in all his deadly, sarcastic glory; I don't need another, lamer version of Eric, no matter how much time he might spend with his shirt off. I want Sookie to learn to love the real Eric, flaws and all, and while Pam and Bill dealing with this new turn of events might be fun for an episode or two, I have no doubt that the writers will drag it out until no one can stand it any longer.

Regular readers of this blog will no doubt remember that my absolute least favorite element of the show is the continued victimization of Tara. Those people might think that I would be pleased about Tara's transformation into a badass cage fighter in a (seemingly) healthy relationship with lovely girl named Naomi. I'm glad to see that Tara is, at least for a couple episodes, free of the constant terrible experiences that plagued her life in Bon Temps (although that will probably last for all of ten seconds), but I'm a bit uneasy about her newfound lesbian relationship. This show has a tendency to divide its women into damsels-in-distress, who are generally straight, and tough women who can take care of themselves, who are generally lesbians and often vampires. Tara's turn to lesbianism reinforces the show's underlying truth, that women who are attracted to men are also dependent on men. Tara could easily have been in a healthy relationship with a man, but on this show healthy relationships between a man and a woman are an impossibility.

There are lots of other plots going on, and based on previous evidence none of them will come together in a coherent fashion. That means that, as much as I want to care about Lafayette joining a coven, Jason being turned into a werepanther, and Jessica and Hoyt's marital problems, but I know that none of these subplots will have any bearing on the season's main arc, so I don't. (And as far as Sam's relationship with Navajo shapeshifter/skinwalker Luna, I don't even want to care about that.) I'm really just in this for the naked Eric and the possibilities that arise with Bill as King of Louisiana; anything else along the way is just a bump in the road.

Is Too Much Freedom on TV Ever Bad?

The cast of Seinfeld shakes on it in "The Contest." Photo courtesy of joyhog.com.

With all the talk about "sexposition" on Game of Thrones recently, as well as the return of the often-gratuitous True Blood last weekend, I've been thinking about the role of censorship in television. Not censorship of ideas or political views - I'm completely against that - but censorship of things like sex, violence and foul language. Now, I'm not for censorship in any way, as I was raised by parents who realized I was smart enough to figure things out for myself and therefore chose not to censor things; however, I do think that the inability to show sex or violence onscreen can often lead to increased creativity.

I started thinking about this issue while reading Nerd Do Well, a memoir by the incredibly funny and talented Simon Pegg. In the book, Pegg describes his early comedic leanings by describing a joke he told to a friend's mother. The punchline of the joke relied on a mildly dirty work that Pegg, who was in primary school at the time, didn't want to say in front of an adult. Instead, he just paused and allowed the mother to guess the word based on rhyme and context. According to Pegg, the fun of guessing the dirty word for oneself made the joke much funnier than it would have been had Pegg said it aloud.

Pegg's point - that something implied is often funnier, sexier or scarier than something that is actually seen - is one that has been backed up by many TV shows. With the exception of pay cable channels like HBO and Showtime, television is a medium that has to abide by certain guidelines as to how much sex, violence and profanity is allowed. While this can be incredibly frustrating - "nipplegate," anyone? - it can also lead to increased creativity on the part of showrunners and writers, who are forced to come up with alternative way to get their point across.

One of the best - and best-known - examples of this is the classic Seinfeld episode "The Contest." The episode, which was ranked as the single best television episode of all time by TV Guide, revolves around a contest between the four main characters to determine who can go the longest without masturbating. However, due to strict television guidelines, the word "masturbate" is never used in the episode, isntead being referred to by euphemisms such as the now-classic catchphrase "master of my domain." The episode would probably still be funny if the word could be used, but the heavy implication of the subject matter and the many amusing euphemisms used by the group make the whole thing much funnier, because it makes the audience feel like we're in on the joke.

Another example that I've always been fond of is the inclusion of marijuana in That 70s Show. The characters smoke pot in almost every episode, but it is never referred to by name and no joints or bongs ever appear on-screen. Instead, the audience sees the camera pan over the characters while puffs of smoke hang in the air around them, allowing viewers to pick up on the cues and laugh with the characters, while once again including the audience in the joke.

Dramas can also use implication and creativity to increase the impact of a scene without actually showing it. I'm not normally a big fan of Mad Men, but Joan's rape in the second season of that show was beautifully played, and all the more powerful because of how little was shown. It was far from gratuitous, showing no nudity and cutting away before the deed was actually done, focusing instead on Joan's glassy-eyed, resigned stare. Not showing the scene allowed the audience to imagine what is happening and project our horror onto the situation, while avoiding the fetishization of sexual violence that often comes with portrayals of such behavior onscreen.

It's not that showing sex, violence, drugs or profanity on TV is always badly done: The Wire showed characters doing drugs in order to illuminate the societal problems that plagued Baltimore, Tell Me You Love Me used explicit sex scenes in order to delve deeper into couples' relationships, and Deadwood elevated cursing to an art form. However, portraying these subjects on television is always dangerous, and difficult to do well. For every Tell Me You Love Me there are several True Bloods, a show that uses gratuitous sex to cover plot holes and that is often guilty of fetishizing violence against women. Shows like Seinfeld and Mad Men have shown viewers that censorship is not necessarily a bad thing; now, if only shows like True Blood would take that lesson to heart, and realize that ability to show something onscreen doesn't imply necessity.

Sexual Violence and Vampires: or, why "True Blood" is much more offensive to women than "Game of Thrones"

Rutina Wesley of True Blood and Emilia Clarke of Game of Thrones. Photos courtesy of io9.com and ugo.com.

In the past, I've written several articles about the role of sexual violence on Game of Thrones. This issue has recently become a hot topic; it was addressed in a story by Jace Lacob on the Daily Beast, where Lacob discussed how the role of sexual violence has actually been diminished in the TV show, compared to the prevalence of rape in George R.R. Martin's novels. In that same article, Lacob discusses the amount of sexual material in the show, saying that the (non-violent) sex in Game of Thrones is even more gratuitous than the sex in other HBO shows, specifically citing True Blood as an example of a show with less gratuitous sex and nudity than Game of Thrones.

Lacob's reference to True Blood - which was one of my favorite shows until it completely ran off the rails last season - got me thinking about the role of sex, specifically violent sex, on True Blood. It isn't surprising that True Blood contains a lot of gratuitous sex; after all, it's a show on HBO based on a series of extremely sexual novels. However, the show also contains worrisome amounts of violent, unwanted sex, perpetrated almost entirely against victimized female characters.

It isn't really surprising that a show about vampires would contain sexual violence; after all, the vampire mythos is rife with sexual symbolism, a tradition that dates back to what is widely considered the first true vampire novel, Bram Stoker's Dracula. In an article about portrayals of gender roles in both general audience and young adult vampire fiction, Melissa Ames, professor of media studies at Eastern Illinois University, describes scholarly analyses of Stoker's novel that emphasize the sexual metaphors inherent in vampirism. She specifically mentions Christopher Bentley's reading of the novel, in which he finds "'deviant' sexual behavior throughout the entire novel from the incestuous relationship Dracula has with his three sister/daughter figures [...] to the 'forced quasi-fellatio' invoked when Dracula imposes his blood upon Mina [quoted in Ames 2011]." In addition, the symbolism of drinking blood - a form of penetration - is often connected to sexuality, and unwanted or violent attacks can be read as sexual assault.

The role of sexual assault on True Blood is, then, even more prevalent than one might have originally thought. In addition to scenes and storylines that clearly dealt with rape and sexual assault - the attempted rape of Sookie (Anna Paquin) during her excursion to Dallas in the second-season episode "Rescue Me" and Tara's (Rutina Wesley) repeated rape at the hands of a vampire in the third season - there are less obvious examples that can be read as representative of sexual assault. Sookie's initial attraction to Bill (Stephen Moyer) was the result of her consumption of his blood, which caused her to have sex dreams about him; a scenario which can be expressed as unwanted penetration of Sookie's mind with these images, and coercion on Bill's part. A similar process takes place in the second season when, after drinking Eric's (Alexander Skarsgard) blood, Sookie once again experiences sexual dreams. Hoyt (Jim Parrack) and Jessica's (Deborah Ann Woll) relationship also has sexually violent undertones, as sex is always painful for Jessica due to the fact that she will always be a virgin no matter how many times she has sex.

Now, I don't necessarily have a problem with the portrayal of sexual violence onscreen (although I agree with A.O. Scott of the New York Times that seeing sexual violence in film or on television can lead to fetishization of such violence), as I think it can be done well and addresses an important issue. However, I have a serious problem with the rampant sexual violence on True Blood, and the way this violence victimizes the show's heterosexual female characters (and occasionally homosexual male characters) while not allowing the women to grow, or even change as a result of their experiences. As a result of this victimization, True Blood is, to me, one of the least feminist scripted shows on television. (Reality shows like Jersey Shore or The Real Housewives of... are an entirely different ball game).

The most prominent example of female victimization in True Blood is Wesley's Tara Thornton. Over the course of the third season, Tara was raped repeatedly by James Frain's Franklin and was shown being unable to save herself. Instead, she was ultimately rescued by Jason (Ryan Kwanten), in an example of the kind of damsel-in-distress storytelling that is disturbingly common on True Blood. Indeed, her relationship with Franklin only begins when he comes to her rescue during an attack in the parking lot of Merlotte's. Indeed, much of Tara's life - like the lives of the other human, female characters on the show - is defined by men, whether they are rescuing her or terrorizing her. She never gets the upper hand in a romantic relationship.

In this way, Tara and the other women of True Blood, particularly Sookie, are constantly defined by their relationships to men. This is a criticism that is constantly leveled at Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series as well; according to Ames, Bella Swan (portrayed by Kristen Stewart in the films), is "constantly depicted as the damsel in distress forever in need of rescue by a male." The same can be said of all the female, non-vampire characters of True Blood. Sookie's life is largely defined by the conflict between her relationship to Bill and her attraction to Eric; Tara is a constant victim who always needs rescuing by the men in her life; Arlene is characterized by her string of husbands. In addition, the more minor characters such as the waitresses at Merlotte's are simply disposable, existing so that bad things can happen to them.

This is one major way in which True Blood differs from Game of Thrones and True Blood. While Game of Thrones depicts a world in which sexual violence is commonplace, the show's female characters are portrayed as more than just victims. Daenerys Targaryen, the show's most prominent rape victim, quickly learns that she can use her sexuality to her advantage and quickly sheds her victimization, learning to use her own power to accomplish things. By the most recent episodes, Daenerys' relationship with her husband, Khal Drogo (Jason Momoa) is one of the more equitable relationships on the show, and Daenerys is using her newfound power to save captive women from being raped by the Dothraki.

The CW's The Vampire Diaries also offers a much more positive, less victimized portrayal of women then True Blood. The show's protagonist, Elena Gilbert (Nina Dobrev) certainly has as many problems as Sookie does, although she is never sexually assaulted. Elena is also in a relationship with Stefan (Paul Wesley), and also drawn to his brother Damon (Ian Somerhalder), just as Sookie is torn between Bill and Eric. However, Elena is a much stronger character than either Sookie or Tara; like Daenerys, she refuses to be controlled by the other characters, even when Stefan tries to protect her by preventing her from taking part in various events.

While the female characters on True Blood are certainly victimized by both explicit and implied sexual violence, that is not the only problem the show has in terms of feminist perspectives and sexual violence. Rape is often trivialized on the show, most notably when Sookie is assaulted and nearly raped in Dallas in the second season. After her return to Bon Temps and her realization that an evil maenad has taken over her house, Sookie articulates her sadness by saying "I was almost raped in Dallas, but this is so much worse." This comment made my jaw drop when I watched the episode, as it takes the pain and humiliation of sexual assault and sweeps it under the rug, much like the way in which Tara's abusive relationship with Franklin is shunted out of the way to make room for the other plotlines.

The issue of sexual violence is one that has been addressed on many different television shows, from Mad Men to Game of Thrones. However, one of the most distressing depictions of violence against women and victimization is that on True Blood, which routinely victimizes women and trivializes issues of sexual violence. The gender roles portrayed on True Blood are often just as old-fashioned and restrictive as those of Stephanie Meyer's infamous Twilight, but with more violently sexual undertones. True Blood can still be fun to watch - it's a soapy guilty pleasure - but I certainly wouldn't let a teenage daughter of mine watch it. Not for the gratuitous sex or the violence, since I don't believe in censorship. I simply wouldn't want my child to think that the passive, victimized behavior of the women on the show is any sort of ideal.