By Lori Acken
We hate to say we told you so. But we told you so. And to be fair, so did pretty much every other TV critic out there, pro or otherwise.
As news of Fall Premiere re-ups builds from a trickle to a stream, ABC has officially pulled the plug on its two weakest offerings, Kelsey Grammer’s sitcom Hank and the Rebecca Romijn/Lindsay Price dramedy Eastwick — shows whose admittedly appealing cast members still couldn’t save them.
How gone are they?
By Lori Acken
Everybody can relax now. The long-rumored Jackson Family reality series has become an actuality — and Michael’s three children are NOT the stars of the show.
Instead, it is four of the musical legend’s brothers — Jackie, Jermaine, Tito and Marlon — who are featured in A&E’s new docuseries The Jacksons: A Family Dynasty, premiering with back to back episodes on Sunday, Dec. 13 beginning at 9pm ET.
The series will follow the brothers as they prepare for a Jackson Five reunion, lend vocals to the soundtrack for Michael’s This Is It feature film and attend it’s bittersweet premiere, and support Tito as he joins Gladys Knight in a concert performance at London’s Wembley Arena — all while trying to come to terms with Michael’s untimely death.
By Lori Acken
Well, huh.
Apparently the mother lode of excitement that was the recent Bachelorette — what with its bragging girlfriend-haver Wes, toe-lovin’ Tanner, controversial winner Ed, and a host of relentlessly returning cast-offs — was just a little too much for ABC.
It’s the only reason I can think of to explain why — after taunting us Bachelor faithful with potential promises of Romeo-in-blue-jeans Reid or Ken-Doll-come-true Kiptyn as Season 14’s one for the roses — they up and settled for snoozy, milquetoast, tattletale Jake.
Jake.
C’mon now, Alphabet — and sorry Jake’s mom — but surely you know this here is the kind of guy us girls, even us good girls, even us girls who didn’t have boys lined up on our doorstep, ditched out on the minute someone else came courting?
By Lori Acken
Because I seem to like to admit things at the start of these buggers …
I’ll admit it. When I first read the not-so-good news about victorious Bachelorette-slayer Ed and his purported cheating (and total cheesebag) ways, I was crestfallen. I love my little dark-haired duo. I love that Big E ‘n Li’l Jill seem happily on their way to a Windy City version of Trista and Ryan’s patented (and, thus far, unduplicated) happily ever after.
Instead he, well, he f**kin’ disappointed her, to quote our little sailor-mouthed singleton whilst on the cusp of her betrothal.
Or did he?
By Lori Acken
My prediction? Ed and Kiptyn be damned (or be the next Bachelor) — Jillian chooses no one.
Or — since we’ve already been treated to that particularly irritating outcome a few seasons back, courtesy of Bachelor Brad Womack — maybe an old Vancouver-based beau returns in next Monday’s finale to sweep her off her feet.
Or maybe she decides that dream dating the dapper duo ain’t such a bad life and continues the competition off-air.
That’d be a new one, too.
In any case, with exactly one successful union under its belt in 17 cumulative seasons, The Bachelor/ette franchise obviously does not require matrimony as the key to its success … so anything that could feasibly be chalked up to “The Most Dramatic Final Rose Ceremony Ever” should suffice, as long as it draws viewers and enrages bloggers. Right?
Right on.
By Lori Acken
Smile a while, Sara Sidle lovers!
CBS announced today that SAG Award winner Jorja Fox will reprise the role on multiple episodes of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation when the show returns for its tenth season September 24.
“We’re thrilled for Jorja’s return to CSI,” said executive producer Carol Mendelsohn. “The viewers and longtime CSI fans will be excited to discover where life has taken Sara Sidle and what brings her back to the CSI team in Las Vegas in our premiere episode.”
Fox, a series regular and fan favorite since the show’s first season, left in the midst of Season 8, briefly reappearing in Season 9 as part of the story line that ushered fellow series regular William Petersen — who starred as Gil Grissom, Sidle’s boss and lover — to the other side of the series’ cameras to produce and direct.
Nonetheless, dare we be greedy enough to hope that Grissom is there at his lady’s side when she returns, since Petersen said he was not opposed to making guest appearances?
Stay tuned …
By Lori Acken
Bachelorette fans, if you’re like me, you long ago passed the, “Well, DOES he or DOESN’T he?” thing about ol’ Wes The Silver Tongued Maybe-Not-A Bachelor and his waitin’-at-home alleged girlfriend, and moved right on to “Who the hell is she, and why isn’t she pissed?!”
Well, we finally know who the hell she is. And why she isn’t pissed. And if you’re picturing some sweet little Austin-grown posey in a flowery dress and cowboy boots who, like Jillian, is completely snowed by her man’s tender tunes … well … not so much.
Before she spent three years with Jilli’s favorite eye-and-ear candy, 29-year-old Austin-based spa owner Laurel Kagay also dated Season 11’s infamous commitment-phobe Bachelor Brad Womack, an Austin bar owner, for four years — sending the blogosphere into a frenzy with rumors of everything from daily texts from Womack during filming to a love child borne to Kagay about which neither speaks.
One revelation that’s definitely not conjecture: the Texas heartbreaker also dated Austin-based businessman Collin Evans, an unsuccessful contender for the heart of Season 3 Bachelorette Jen Schefft.
Personally, I think the girl seems like a hoot … and one savvy bachelorette to boot, since she suh-wears she and Wes are no longer together. Helloooooo, TB producers … ? Just imagine whom her 5 Extra Men could be.
By Lori Acken
Back in early May, with storm clouds already directly overhead for TLC’s most famous — and lucrative — couple, Jon & Kate Gosselin, I aimed my “Pushing Buttons” column for the July issue of Channel Guide at the wisdom (or lack thereof) in real Moms and Dads inviting TV audiences to be their nosiest of neighbors. Especially when they are raising a family that is unique because of enormous ranks and the inherent enormous challenges.
Because we work some six weeks out from the time the magazine arrives in your homes, as I was writing, the rest of the nosy neighbors were kept terrifically busy guessing what would go down first: Kate would ditch Jon for her silver-fox bodyguard, Jon would dump Kate for a gum-chewin’ teacher, or TLC would eventually let on that it was all just a little fictionalized stew they cooked up for ratings’ sake. Because let’s face it — the snugglefest that was Father Knows Best went out of fashion a half-century back and we all love to hate Raymond now.
And now, just a few days before that issue and that column arrive in your mailbox, we got the one-two punch that we kinda saw coming: There will no longer be a Jon and Kate at home with the Eight. Not at one time anyway.
For a while, there won’t even be a show.
By Lori Acken
Good one, WWE. You had me going there for a little minute.
After boring, confusing and irritating me right into the arms of the UFC with dopey-even-for-wrestling story lines, loathsome new characters, switcheroo casting and just the general feeling that thee and I had been together entirely too long, you almost got me back with Monday night’s announcement that The Vince had sold The Raw to his long-time frenemy The Donald.
“The terms of the deal were not disclosed” said today’s ensuing press release.
“This was an offer I couldn’t refuse,” said Vince (WWE Chairman Vince McMahon).
“WHA’??!” said the world. Or at least those of us who care.
So did Donald Trump REALLY buy a single franchise from the WWE stable of programming? Did uberego Vince McMahon really fork over his biggest, most prolific ratings grabber to a guy that, on camera anyway, he cannot stand?
By Lori Acken
First of all, just let me say that you, Jillian Harris, are my kind of girl.
I didn’t catch enough of last season’s The Bachelor to get much of an impression of the freewheeling Canadian, whom — despite having what appears to be a nimble mind, open heart and giddy willingness to do any number of things that might mess up her hair and run her makeup and not involve the bedroom — might have forever gone down in Bachelor/ette history as the cheery chick with the goofy hot dog theory and mad hot-tub-lovin’ skills.
I am glad she did not.
Because having witnessed the tongue-firmly-in-cheek aplomb with which our Jillian sassed her way through that god awful obligatory G-rated Poster Queen Montage (scoring herself some kick-ass swimsuits and a date with a sweet purple vintage convertible in the process) topped off by her accessorizing her killer white frock o’ greeting with a ton of hearty COOL!’s, RIGHT ON!’s (my favorite phrase!) and the declaration that her favorite band is the uberuntrendy Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (mine, too, Jilli-girl! Mine, too! RIGHT ON!), I knew I had found me a Bachelorette at least I could love forever. No matter what the Beef du Season ultimately think about her.
And outside of a couple who had clearly come to the party to shill their manwares to a zillion TV viewers as much, if not more so, as the bachelorette herself (I’m talking you Billbro/Greg and Second Hand Kyle), they seemed to think about her a lot and ain’t afraid to let it render them completely daft.
