
Poor
monshu! His heinous temporary promotion has left him too exhausted at night even to read his escapist genre novels. And poor me! Since he's watching TV to relax and I want to relax with him, I end up watching TV, too--and more than he does, since he falls asleep and then I find myself unable to leave the programme before it ends because that's just how my bloody mind works. (I don't like turning pop songs off in the middle either.)
In any case, this is how I ended up catching the pilot of
Running Wilde last night, which I pretty quickly placed as That-Show-Someone-Told-Me-About-(probably-
rollick)-That-Wants-So-Badly-To-Be-
Arrested-Development-But-Isn't. And that's an especially damn shame given all the talent that's been flung at it. My half-hour of viewing was filled with moments like "Hey, is that Peter Serafinowicz? Cool! Did they really get him just to play a cringe-inducing racist stereotype? Oh."
Actually my first moment like that was seeing Mel Rodriguez' Mario moustache. At first, I couldn't even tell that he was playing a Hispanic. Seriously, "Migo"? That's not Spanish, it's Latverian. I blame him for sucking me in in the first place, since as perfectly suited as Will Arnett was to the character of Joel, I just can't see wanting to watch a series where the rich clueless douche is the protagonist. But as long as the cute bear stays trapped in a suit, there's nothing to bring me back for more.