It's Mourning in America

The mourning has begun, quietly. NBC has announced that The West Wing will not return for another season. It wasn't much of a shock when NBC cancelled American Dream before this season, another show we watched every week. But it seemed unlikely this series would go to the trouble of a creating a season-long cliffhanger--who would be the television President next year?--when there wasn't going to be a next year.

But of course, it was a business, not a creative decision, taken by a network that has lost its touch in both areas. The real world had already intruded with the death of John Spencer, one of the original West Wing stars. Now we're truly bereft, with no president but the so-called "real one," and Geena Davis, who will have to do.

I got a retroactive sense of this cancellation's inevitability in the reaction of a bunch of young whiners at Salon. One didn't like it because it was unrealistically intelligent, and besides, her actor boyfriend does like it. The one contributor who wasn't busily displaying his hip cynicism had to apologize because it made him feel good (i.e. corny.) These are apparently the viewers that advertisers pay attention to. Good luck.

The Internet attracts nitpickers, so I shouldn't expect anyone to simply acknowledge that it was at worst an interesting hour of television not about criminals or crimestoppers, and at best it was great. But the real reason I remained loyal was the simple fact that since 2000, President Barlett was my President, the chief executive of our alternative reality. I wasn't sure Jimmy Smits was going to do it for me, but I was willing to give him a try---and he's been looking and sounding like an acceptable substitute lately. (Not Alan Alda, sorry. One Republican president at a time is way more than enough.)

The idea that all we are to be left with is Bush may be too much to bear. Somebody has to set the standards, remind us of ideals, of intelligence and acting morally even in difficult or complex situations. The uber-hip Salon writers sure don't.

Maybe The West Wing's real sin was frequently articulating issues better than either politicians or the news media. We can't let a mere TV show even slightly slow down the collapse of civilization.

So we're left with the White House of Commander in Chief, now the property of the Bochco family, and its chief of staff, Tom Szentgyorgi (who I wrote about long ago when he was a young up and coming playwright.) Not a terrible alternative. However, for the best writing on contemporary issues as well as some of the best and funniest acting and general bizarre entertainment, we watch Boston Legal.

We're trying out that new series, Injustice, and still enjoy Numbers. Other that these, it's DVDs of Northern Exposure---its third season has some of the best television ever. No wonder old TV shows are the hottest trend in DVDs.