You guys, after watching the first couple episodes of the season, I am worried about Kalinda on The Good Wife.

I don’t mean her physical safety; if anyone can eventually best her dangerous husband, Nick Savarese (played by Marc Warren competently doing the British tough guy thing) it’s her. We already saw her fight him in the season premiere, and she clearly has preternatural fighting ability for a woman her size. And I’m not worried about her psychologically, though clearly she can’t completely get this guy go. 

No, what I’m worried about is this storyline and what it’s doing both to Kalinda as a character and to the show at large. I can see how this storyline of her abusive relationship reveals things about her character: how she became tough and learned to take care of herself, and so on. But to see their past abusive relationship start to play out all over again is disturbing, to say the least.

Viewers have always been intrigued by Kalinda because of her mysteriousness and ambiguous sexuality. Those are both interesting qualities, and heaven knows we need more non-straight people on network TV. But we also need more tough women on TV, and to see someone so thoroughly bad ass and competent at her job as Kalinda in some kind of sexual thrall to an abusive asshole is really sad. I’m not saying it’s not realistic, since it happens to plenty of people, but it feels a bit retrograde for this particular character. I don’t mind seeing a storyline in which Kalinda is thrown off her game, especially since past nemeses such as Blake were a match for her at all, but to have it come from a man in the context of a romantic (if you can call it that) relationship is just plain sad.

Then there’s also what this storyline does to the show, structurally. Sure, they are trying to keep it tied to the Lockhart Gardner by having Nick as a client of the firm, but it’s a thin disguise for the fact that this storyline is off in its own little world. Kalinda even missed work. Kalinda. Missed work. I can hardly believe it. She got the job done once she did come in, but I can only assume that Nick will continue to be a distraction to her in the weeks to come.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the much-hyped ice cream scene. Look, I watch lots of stuff on HBO, and I am not disturbed by graphic sexuality on TV. But the bit with the ice cream cone, while not really shocking as it was supposed to be, was just … needlessly vulgar. (And I never call anything “vulgar.”) It was gross. And I don’t think it told us anything about the characters or their relationship that we either didn’t know or couldn’t surmise from existing material. They have a twisted sexual bond. She wants him to go away but he has a strong sexual hold on her. I get it.

I don’t mind seeing a more vulnerable side of Kalinda, and one thing I liked about Sunday’s episode was that Kalinda didn’t hesitate to tell Alicia what was going on. It’s nice to see their friendship back on track and Kalinda keeping her promise to confide in Alicia. I just wish we could see this vulnerability and friendship with Alicia outside of a romantic or sexual context. In fact, I kind of liked how Kalinda would enter sexual relationships but stay out of forming truly deep bonds. It’s a different portrayal of a woman’s sexuality than we often see on television. And if this relationship with Nick is what we get when she does have a deep bond with someone, then I definitely prefer the Kalinda who slept with people more casually.

I trust that the writers will not allow this storyline to full weaken Kalinda’s character; I assume she will eventually find the strength to get rid of the guy once and for all. However, this is not really a journey I want to watch her take because I’d prefer her not to show vulnerability in the relationship realm, if she has to show it at all. We have seen the storyline of a strong woman who is weakened by the love of a man done to death by now, and I thought the show’s portrayal of this character was above it. I don’t think the story adds anything to a character who is one of the more intriguing and unusual on TV, and I certainly don’t think it adds anything to The Good Wife as a show.

I hope I am wrong and the show will surprise me, but right now, I am not feeling this plot at all. Readers, take to the comments and let me know if the story is resonating any better with any of you.

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The season three premiere of Treme on HBO, entitled “Knock with Me – Rock with Me,” got me to thinking about how even though the show’s structure seems to be very loose, its music gives us a way into its world. New Orleans jazz and blues — rather than plot — drives the show, and that may be off-putting for some viewers. I am attracted to shows that experiment with structure, but of course, that’s not for everyone, and that’s cool. But if you have not watched Treme or tried and couldn’t get into it, consider giving it another shot — and let its music be your guide into the world of post-Katrina New Orleans.

The idea that shows teach us how to watch them is such an old chestnut at this point that I hesitate to even bring it up, but the season’s first scene brought home this point to me. As Antoine Batiste and others play in the streets of Treme as a memorial to tuba player Kerwin James (which really happened), the cops break it up, citing noise complaints and a lack of permit. Incredulous, Antoine tells the cops, “Anyone with complaints about music in Treme, they in the wrong place altogether.” This defiant statement could be a thesis statement for the entire structure of the series. If you don’t like the music, or you don’t like the show’s extended use of musical montages, then this show is not for you. But give the show and its sounds a chance to pull you in, at least.

The jazz funeral is a quintessential New Orleans tradition. Since Treme is a show intimately concerned with the intertwining of setting and music (you can’t have one without the other on this show), it often features events such as the abortive memorial for James. The song choice, the hymn “I’ll Fly Away,” while appropriate, is not the kind of dirge most of us associate with funerals. There is sense of joy to it, and the lyrics speak of death as impending freedom.

The joy of most of Treme‘s music seems at first to be at odds with its setting. New Orleans after Katrina — the episode is set 24 months after the storm — still has its issues, to say the least. As last season showed us through the brutal rape of Ladonna Batiste-Williams, crime has gone up in the city. People like Toni Bernette are still investigating Katrina-related deaths. The series never shies away from these brutal truths about the city, but as the show’s catchy theme song demonstrates, New Orleans is still capable of living up to its reputation as a place of pleasure, of “buck jumping and having fun.”

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=1M1Iagf3GSs

The happiness inspired by the theme song is echoed by musical moments in the season premiere, such as violinist Annie finally starting to come into her own on the New Orleans club scene as her boyfriend proudly looks on. Such scenes drive the show forward so that its darker moments don’t drag it down, but to be fair, the premiere — though it started with a memorial — was a pretty upbeat episode that showed most of our characters in decent places in their lives. The arrests that follow the memorial anger the community, but one of the musicians involved makes the most of his newfound popularity by playing “Who Dat Called the Police” to a packed club. Davis McAlary, who has already worked on Katrina-related music, decides to write an opera about the storm, recruiting greats like “Frogman” Henry. The show, rather than being unrelenting bleak, shows how the residents of NOLA make musical lemonade out of lemons.

I admit that I don’t know much about jazz (so forgive me if I lapse into generalities or say anything untrue), but I do know that it can be experimental and free form, and that it relies a lot upon improvisation. But there is still a structure to every song, usually provided by the rhythm section. Similarly, Treme can seem kind of free-form, relying on musical scenes and character vignettes to drive storytelling rather than merely plot. In fact, aside from arcs like Toni’s investigations or Ladonna’s rape, not much really happens on Treme; rather, the plot — such as it is — is defined by character arcs. Will Antoine be able to settle into his role as a music teacher? Will Annie be able to become a real musician rather than a street musician? Will Sonny’s continue to his ascent from being a total asshole? These are the stories that the show tells through little character moments, like Sonny quietly accepting her girlfriend’s father’s limitations on their dating time.

Though each episode presents a collection of character moments, that doesn’t mean there is no structure. This premiere episode is beautifully framed by the two memorials for Kerwin James. After the police break up the first, they arrive to be the escort for the second one. This time, the memorial is a success. Even though New Orleans circa 2007 is weighed down by all kinds of social and infrastructure problems, the people still have hope, and they express that hope through music.

Showrunner David Simon has previous experimented with form in The Wire, and he continues to do so here. There may be slow moments, or moments that puzzle us, but I find the experimentation beautiful to watch as a whole, just as I find the show’s music beautiful to listen to. As Big Chief Albert Lambreaux says of his collaboration with his son on music that mixes jazz with the traditions of the Mardi Gras Indians, they “done broke fresh fucking ground.” So too does this show. It may not always work all the time or for a lot of people, but the attempt is beautiful to watch.

If you found the show too slow or lacking in plot, or if it doesn’t sound like your cup of tea, give it a try anyway. I think the show could be picked up with season three, though starting from the beginning would be even more rewarding. Let the music carry you through an episode, revealing the hopes and frustrations of the characters. Even if you find that it’s still not for you — and that’s totally fine — you may at least discover that you like jazz a lot more than you thought you did. I know I did.

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Few networks have as strong and as recognizable a brand as USA does. After a summer of watching and reviewing some USA offerings, I am starting to think about what works and doesn’t work in the network’s formula for its shows. We know the network for its blue skies, “Characters Welcome” approach to television storytelling. The shows are generally fun summer fare, often procedural and easily digestible. In general, this is an approach to TV that I enjoy, as I don’t believe every show can or should be, say, Breaking Bad.

The week-to-week formula on a USA show generally follows the pattern that Burn Notice has been using for six seasons now. There is a protagonist, Michael Westen, who is very good at his job, though of course his personal life is a mess. Every week, he and his team have a new case to deal with, but there is an overarching mythology that gets increasingly complicated as the seasons go on. This mythology is usually sort of confined to during the first five minutes and last five minutes of every episode, except for premieres and finales, which often deal exclusively with mythology. This is the formula, and while it may have worked in the early seasons of the show, it’s getting tired now. (Psych is an even older show, but it doesn’t really have a mythology so it’s been grandfathered in.)

Now, I don’t watch every single USA offering (sorry, Suits and Covert Affairs), but of the ones I do watch, White Collar seems to be the more direct descendant of Burn Notice – which is my model for an archetypal USA show — in terms of structure. There is a case of a week, and nowadays, the episodes check in on Neal Caffrey trying to figure out why his godmother Ellen was murdered; in earlier seasons, it was his girlfriend’s death he dealt with, more than once, even. Now we are getting the idea that the current storyline will unravel to reveal Surprising Truths about Neal’s dad, who may or may not have been a dirty cop. I expect these reveals will take a long time and involve increasing layers of bad guy conspiracies, just like on Burn Notice.

And already, I don’t care.

In the case of both White Collar and Burn Notice, the long-term story arc is in fact the least interesting element of the show. The multi-year arc of who burned Michael got so complicated that I could not longer keep track of it and, thus, did not care much about it. I expect the investigation into Nate’s death to go the same way, as well as Neal’s investigations on White Collar. For both of these shows, the chemistry between the leading players as they do their week-to-week case work is the real appeal. Michael, Sam, Fiona, and Jesse interacting and tackling problems from week to week is the engine that drives Burn Notice, just as the uneasy Neal/Peter partnership is what makes White Collar work.

I have started to notice shifts in the USA formula, these two shows notwithstanding. I was reviewing Necessary Roughnessthis summer, and I came to see it as having an opposite problem from White Collar and Burn Notice. Dr. Dani Santino usually had a case of the week, but it almost always felt shoehorned in compared to the increasing drama with Dani’s personal life and the drama surrounding the Hawks. With this show, so much was going on I never really felt that I needed to see Dani’s other patients. I wonder if the difference here is that Dani has to work each weekly therapy “case”alone, isolating her from the other characters, such as Matt, Nico, and TK, whose interactions help make the show interesting.

If USA is really all about characters, then a show like this should be allowed to focus on the characters in their shared milieu rather than isolating them. For White Collar and Burn Notice, the shared milieu is structured so that it involves the main cast in the cases of the week, whereas with Necessary Roughness, the shared milieu is the football team and all its attendant stories. As a result, this just doesn’t lend itself as well to cases of the week, unlike the other two, which are more fun when they are mostly procedural.

The show that I actually feel is allowed to be itself the most while also managing to stick to the USA formula the best is, oddly enough, Royal Pains. I don’t think most people would say this is exactly the best show on the network, but in some ways, it offers the most uncomplicated pleasure. Now, hear me out. The show’s milieu, a concierge medicine company, lends itself to involving everyone in cases of the week, especially now that Paige works for HankMed, and most of the actors involved shine when dealing with the patient guest stars. The case of the week showing the main characters something about themselves is a trope as old as procedurals, but I think it works here because health care professionals have to care so much about their patients. (It should work on Roughness, but the case of the week is often given so little time there as to feel perfunctory; we can’t care about Dani’s non-team patients if if the show doesn’t.)

HankMed also allows for enough interpersonal drama to keep things interesting. For instance the introduction of the awkward Dr. Jeremiah Sarcani and his sweet unrequited love for Divya has been a highlight of the season for me. This show, since it lacks the mythology of some of the heavier USA offerings, focuses on the characters: the very essence of USAs’s Characters Welcome mission statement.

I don’t mean to imply that Royal Pains is a perfect show by any means. Mark Feuerstein is pretty good when playing against patients and against Paulo Costanzo, but the repeated attempts to give him a girlfriend are snooze-worthy. The Paige is adopted storyline needs to play out further before I can judge it properly. And the stuff with Boris (which may be this show’s attempt mythology) is a waste of Campbell Scott and feels like it belongs on, well, Burn Notice. But most of this stuff doesn’t take away from the good work the show has done by toning down Evan’s character by keeping him with Paige and allowing him to grow, and by Hank finally admitting they needed to hire other doctors and grow the business. Their little team feels like a family, which is why I tune in from week to week.

The conclusion I can tentatively draw from my musings is that, perhaps USA shows should either be or not be procedural, depending on what works for each show, but that the ones I watch at least would be better off without a heavy-duty mythology arc that starts to feel confusing and perfunctory after a while. USA should trust their slogan to be true: characters are why people tune in to shows most of the time.

Of course, USA’s formula seems to work well for them in terms of ratings, and if it ain’t broke, right? I don’t know that the network feels that it ain’t broke, though. This season’s miniseries Political Animals represented an attempt to experiment with breaking the formula a bit, even though the show was tonally similar to the network’s other shows. Unfortunately, the ratings were not great, which may teach USA to just leave things be. However, I also feel like the second season of Necessary Roughness, with its decreased emphasis on cases of the week may have been part of the same experiment, and perhaps shows a willingness to let each show find what works for it (even if they won’t be allowed to abandon the formula entirely). I really hope that’s the case. The USA brand is very strong and clearly a good way to launch shows, with their focus on character and on maintaining a breezy tone, but then those shows should be allowed to find their way without too many network constraints or demands for complicated mythology.

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