I already miss cancelled Life: Damian Lewis and his quizzical expressions, his way of inflecting a line so that it became an inquiry into your state of mind rather than a mere statement. Playing a rich cop who’d been framed, sent to jail, and released, his Charlie Crews — and the entire series created by Rand Ravich — transcended the usual quirky-cop genre.
I wanted another season of Life to see more of Adam Arkin (underutilized this past season), and to be able to take back in print the criticisms I had of Donal Logue’s character. (His Tidwell got more interesting as the series went on.)
Most of all, I just wanted Crews to keep on driving around L.A., roughing up bad guys with the quiet power of a man who’s got nothing to lose. He may have called his attitude Zen; I called it hard-boiled romanticism at its best.
Will you miss Life?
Steve-O is an idiot. A professional one, as he’s proven in rising to some kind of stardom as part of the Jackass crew, falling face-first into animal dung, skateboarding dangerously, letting animals bite his naked butt — he’s made a career out of stupid pranks and dares, which turned him into a celeb to people who like their humor both adolescent and a little shocking.
Last night, Southland answered one of the questions I had about it: What’s the deal with Tom Everett Scott’s character? A familiar face appearing in an ensemble cop show, Scott had until recently been pushed to the corners of this increasingly fine new series. But last night, his police detectivbe Russell Clarke was prominent in two subplots: a murder investigation that obsessed his partner, Lydia Adams (is Regina King headed for an Emmy, or what?), and just as interestingly, Russell’s off-duty pursuit of becoming a writer.
