Fake Feminism in Pan Am, The Playboy Club and Charlie's Angels Why do TV producers think it's "empowering" to put women in a skimpy outfit? NBC's The Playboy Club and ABC's Pan Am and Charlie's Angels all sang that tune with varying degrees of failure. The creators and stars of each show promised "modern women" who "were really free and in charge of their lives." In truth, Playboy Club's lead Bunny relied on a man to overcome a crisis; Pan Am stewardesses got to travel the world — by serving refreshments (and affairs) to passengers; and no matter how you reboot it, Charlie's Angels is essentially about three scantily-clad women following the orders of a dude named Charlie. It's one thing to reinterpret an era for television, but to tout the shows as being pro-women is ridiculous.

Still puzzled? So are we. Nothing against "Uptown Girl," but what purpose did it serve? If it was to introduce Blaine's admirer, Sebastian, why not let him take the lead instead of some random Warbler whose overly animated face made us wonder how he was cast in the first place? Why film it in such a goofy way, with the boys serenading some random lady? Just… why? Maybe it was all to show Blaine he made the right decision in leaving.

The music of Grey's has always been another character on the series, so it makes sense that the show would attempt to make a musical episode. What doesn't make sense? The music — all of which had been used before on the show — didn't dovetail at all with the story of Callie's brush with death. Sara Ramirez has powerhouse pipes, but what this episode desperately needed was a better playlist.

It's with a heavy heart that we relegate the creator of Tiger Blood to the "worst" category, but let's face it — the guy went crazy this year. He got axed from Two and a Half Men, launched a failed "Violent Torpedo of Truth" Tour, and proclaimed he was on a drug called Charlie Sheen. ("It's not available," he said. "If you try it once, you will die.") Things got so bad for the actor, even his goddesses left him! Sorry, Charlie!

Two good-looking people getting it on should be a visual treat for cable viewers, but not so when Queen Cersei cheats on her husband by doing the deed with her own twin brother Jaime Lannister. Sorry, but twincest trumps all when it comes to the icky taboos. You used to live in the same womb! We felt chills multiplying, and it had nothing to do with that infamous winter coming.

We like Ringer — really, we do. But couldn't the show have shelled out a little more in their efforts to realistically double Sarah Michelle Gellar? In an unintentionally hilarious speedboat scene, a really obvious green-screen effect distracts us from what is written as a fairly sweet scene between the sisters. There were weird cutaways, awkward hugs and a particularly ungraceful head-to-shoulder lean — the latter of which was, thankfully, dropped from the final cut. We're going to assume it was a campy homage because it was a dead ringer for the Hitchcockian noir films of the 1950s. For future reference, though, 60 years have elapsed, it's time to step up the game.

Although we love condescending, acerbic and self-destructive House, we always felt that at heart, he was a good (if massively dysfunctional) guy. We could not, however, forgive his complete disregard for human life when he rammed his car into Cuddy's house in a jealous pique. What was that? Did we miss the shark that his car jumped over because this over-the-top action certainly felt like a cry for help — and not just from his character.

Because he didn't have enough on his plate already, Franco added "Oscar co-host" to his overflowing résumé. The result: a painful, laborious, unfunny affair in which our modern Renaissance man looked blasé, distracted, sleepy and, as long has been rumored, high. The writers were partly culpable for the underwhelming material, but at least Anne Hathaway tried to look engaged. You're an Oscar-nominated actor, James, so act like you care!

True Blood never met a dream sequence it didn't love, but Sookie's imagined threesome with her two vampire suitors, Bill and Eric, was more like a nightmare. Sookie's breathless quibbling and the men's puppy-eyed declarations of admiration are the opposite of what makes the edgy show so watchable. Sure, it's played for laughs, but we fans take the choice of Miss Stackhouse's sexual partners to be serious business. Why, then, shouldn't the show?

Where have all the men gone? If you believe the new slate of shows (Last Man Standing, Man Up!, How to Be a Gentleman and the upcoming Work It), they've all been rendered impotent. Whether unemployed, in need of a makeover, resentful of their working better halves or stuck in adolescence, the current small-screen men are portrayed as bitter, clueless dysfunctional losers who fumble and stumble around for laughs. Except it's not really funny and perpetuates a tiresome stereotype of the incompetent man and his wife who fixes everything. When can we start depicting strong and successful men and women without degrading the other gender?

America laughed for weeks when the first Hangover hit theaters, but did the sequel have to be the exact same movie, only set in Bangkok? The joke's never as funny the second time around, no matter how much male full-frontal nudity you add.

It's one thing to be on a dating show just to gain some fame, but it's another to go out of your way to be cruel to the girl. Bentley called Ashley an ugly duckling, made fun of her crying and left the show (twice!) before not even showing up to defend himself on "The Men Tell All" special. It must be reality TV, because you couldn't script a bigger jerk.

Maybe if we hadn't already been bored silly with boring red herrings. Or maybe if we had a compelling reason to care about the personal lives of Linden and Holder (Little Man isn't one). Maybe if Richmond's campaign and the corruption surrounding it hadn't been so one-note. Maybe if Rosie Larsen's life had been more surprising than, instead of similar to, Laura Palmer's. Maybe then we wouldn't have minded not finding out who killed Rosie by the end of the first season.

Alicia Florrick is a new woman, so that calls for a new look. Unfortunately that new look is bangs that scream more "1950s housewife" than "sexually liberated woman." Plus, it looks like a forehead curtain. (Maybe it's to hide her affair with Will?) Thankfully, it's just a wig, so hopefully this whole follicular faux pas will be rectified ASAP.

There are those series finales that fail to live up to their better days (call it Seinfeld Syndrome), but the final chapter of HBO's Hollywood bromance saga was so frustrating, it made us wonder why we ever cared about the boys from Queens in the first place. After eight years of watching movie star Vince sleep around and power agent Ari scream his butt off all over Tinseltown, both men suddenly and inexplicably turned over new leaves in the final episode. Vince as a married man? Ari retired? The sole appropriate conclusion was Eric and Sloane flying off into the sunset together. A Hollywood ending? More like a horrible nightmare.

We'll take any opportunity to watch an Anchorman reunion (in case you don't know, it's kind of a big deal), but it was all downhill after the hilariously awkward meet-cute between Michael Scott (Steve Carell) and Ferrell's Deangelo Vickers. Deangelo was all over the place to say the least — at times he was too similar (read: dim) to Michael and at other times, the obnoxious new man in Scranton only made us miss the world's best boss even more than we already did. We've never been so happy to see someone at Dunder Mifflin get their walking papers.

We're not just saying that Adam Sandler playing the male lead and his own female twin is a horrible, unfunny idea, but that it's also one of the worst representations of cinema drag ever. You, sir, are no Tootsie, Mrs. Doubtfire or, hell, even Big Momma.

For a historical drama, J. Edgar requires an unwieldy suspension of disbelief that the latex-laden animatronic creatures we see on screen are the older versions of J. Edgar Hoover (Leonardo DiCaprio), Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer) and Helen Gandy (Naomi Watts). It's as if the makeup department head had become myopic in his/her dotage, slathering on the old-age trappings with an unsteady, decrepit hand.

We're still baffled at how this sitcom received a full-season order. While we generally like star/creator Whitney Cummings' foul-mouthed material at Comedy Central's roasts, the sanitized (and, for some reason, loud) version that is her TV alter ego is just unwatchable, mostly because she's delivering punch lines instead of dialogue. And don't even get us started on her scraggy boyfriend....