You Can Call Him "Al"

I'm not afraid to say it. I like my t.v. shows. I'm far from a television addict, but I am loyal to the shows that I watch. Thankfully, most of my favorite shows are on HBO, so I can play them on demand and not be a slave to the Tube.

In the past, I have had my share of verbal run-ins with the occasional, purported "intellectual," who speaks dismissively of television as a total waste of time and not remotely worthy of his or her attention. Except of course, PBS. "Oh, I don't watch television. I would rather go outside and do something." At 10:00 p.m. on a Sunday? Every single night? Get over yourself. Try a little "Six Feet Under," or maybe some Skinemax. It will be good for you.

Sometimes I hear: "I would rather read a good book." I like that one too. As if you have to choose to do one or the other. People can either read or watch television, and never the twain shall meet. "I don'ts likes to reads, I NEEDS TO WATCH MY TELO-VISHONZ, NOW!"

Most Americans don't even read books for pleasure anymore. They have their hands full with Maxim and Cosmo.

Then there's those parents who won't let little Tommy or Sally watch any television because it's "bad for them." These are the same tightasses who won't let their kids eat any sugar cereals or even an occasional Devil Dog. Here's an idea: why don't we put Tommy and Sally in a big, impermeable plastic bubble, so that nothing will ever touch, much less harm them. They can get around the playground by running inside the bubble, like a hamster in a Liberty Ball. This will keep Tommy and Sally nice and safe from the world.

I briefly dated someone who hated television. Total disaster. She would get annoyed if I turned on my t.v. for even 5 minutes. It didn't matter what time of day it was, or even if I was just checking the news or a sports score. The second my brain generated a synaptic impulse down my arm and into my hand to start moving towards the remote, she would start. Sighing. Exaggerated eyeroll. Huffing. Stage 4, if I hadn't turned off the t.v. after the huffing started, was a catatonic blank stare, accompanied by a pregnant, stony silence. Which would continue even after I turned off the t.v.

This was at MY apartment. At her apartment, she had this small, crappy, 16-inch black-and-white plastic box that didn't even work. She kept it on a small stool as a decoration for the men in her life -- a little misleading bone she threw at them to disguise the fact that she was actually a TeleNazi. As I recall, her t.v. wasn't even plugged in. Talk about false advertising.

After awhile, it became clear to me that something had to go. Her or the t.v. The choice was a clear one. Unlike love, television lasts forever.

This brings me to tonight, which marked the beginning of a new season of one of my favorite shows, "Deadwood." For the uninitiated, "Deadwood" takes place in, you guessed it, Deadwood, a mining town in the Black Hills of South Dakota, during the Gold Rush of the 1870s. The set is so real that when you're watching the show, you almost feel as if you are in the town yourself, with all of its mud, squalor, and stink. Everyone on the show has at least 2 layers of dirt on their face. No one looks consistently clean except for the little kids who pop up from time to time. I feel like I need a shower after every episode.

The best part of "Deadwood" is all of the dirty, backstabbing, profane characters who inhabit the Deadwood universe. Each of them speaks in this obscene, Shakespearean vernacular that is hilarious to listen to, particularly when it's being used to insult someone. In a typical episode, this happens about once every 20 seconds. The dialogue is a cross between flowery Shakespearean quatrains and the kind of profanity you would hear at a trucker's convention. And you are forced to listen to every word from every character, or you will have no clue about what is going on.

By far, my favorite character is Al Swearengen, who is aptly named, given that every other word out of his mouth is a dirty obscenity. He is played by Ian McShane, who is British. You would never know it from hearing him on the show - it's uncanny. (McShane also played the mob boss in "Sexy Beast" - a great movie.)

Swearengen is bigger than life, and every time he is on screen, it's an event. I cannot get enough of him. While virtually all of the Deadwood characters are morally compromised, and none of them are completely likeable, Al keeps it real. He tells it like it is, and does whatever he has to to maintain his standing in the camp. Lying, cheating, stealing, killing, you name it. He's consistent, he pulls no punches, and he is always at least three steps ahead of every potential adversary. Al is utterly, consistently, hopelessly, Machiavellian. He doesn't care how powerful you are, or what you can do to him, he will find your weakness and exploit it.

Every episode, the show provides us with a way to hear and know Swearengen's innermost thoughts, motivations, and machinations. In one episode, he gave a drunken, but poetic, Hamlet-esque soliloquy to a decapitated head of an Indian, which, for some reason, he kept in a box in his room for the entire season. Most of the time, we learn what Al is planning through a loud, insulting, creatively-obscene, absurdly funny rant directed at one of his lowly, clueless subordinates. And, on occasion, Al will even wax philosophical while receiving sexual favors from one of his prostitutes. He's a multitasker.

Alas, due to contractual issues and high production costs -- $4.5 million an episode -- there will only be one more season of Al Swearengen for me to enjoy after this one. It amazes me that inane reality shows and mediocre shows like "CSI Miami," "Law and Order [INSERT SPIN-OFF TITLE HERE]" manage to stay alive for years, but we only get to see "Deadwood" for a lousy four seasons.

It's really too bad Al Swearengen isn't in charge of programming at HBO. He would know what to do.