Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Open Letter Mondays (late edition)
Dear Zooey (can I call you Zooey?),
Yeah, yeah. So this is late. I'm not getting paid here, you know? Anyway. I watched your pilot. At least I tried to. Look, I know that TV pilots are often a lot worse than the actual show - it's kind of a throw it to the wall and see what sticks approach - but I only lasted about ten minutes before giving up.
Ugh. Sitcoms, right? Comedy is hard. I get it. But everyone kind of hates your show right now. NPR was particularly harsh, The Washington Post even more so.
Dang. I know I'd want to curl up with a pint of ice cream if my sitcom got panned that bad. And yes, it is kind of a low blow for Hank Steuver to snarkily call you too old to play the Bambi-eyed ingenue. But, look, first of all, it is not that weird now for guys and girls to share an apartment. It doesn't elicit gasps and pearl-clutching. It's just not that strange. Banking on that as the premise for all your show's zaniness is like trying to build a sitcom about Grandpa's hilarious escapades with his new motor-car.
I'm not really sure what to tell you, other than to gently remind you that you are a grown-assed woman. Leave the bug-eyed staring and cringe-worthy adorkableness (see? Even saying that word makes me groan) to the kids.
EDITED TO ADD: So, apparently not everyone disliked this show: The New Girl had a healthy first episode rating, even beating the new Glee, and Fox has ordered a season. To which I say: Twilight, okay?! Twilight!