Survivor: Pearl Islands
The granddaddy of reality shows goes Pirates of the Caribbean. Dispatching this season's 16 with nothing but the clothes on their backs was a neat twist, but they should have had to walk the plank. Especially those wearing Armani suits and stiletto heels for a flight to Panama. Why are they blurring out the butts when you can see Dennis Franz's sorry ass every week on NYPD Blue? After witnessing Osten's underwear problems, you just know he's gonna be the next Calvin Klein poster boy. And did anyone catch the "Morgan behind" caption during the immunity challenge? Cheap, but brilliant. After their loss, Team Morgan could only be thinking one thing: Hate the Drake.
This new series about homeland-security experts borrows elements of CSI, Alias, The Agency and 24. My advice: Return them and nobody gets hurt. Given the title, I half expected to see Keanu Reeves. I got Kelly Rutherford. Um, wasn't she a hooker on Melrose Place? Basically, this show's about terrorists getting caught. One thing this show won't catch: on.
Jamie Kennedy Experiment
I wonder if Jamie Kennedy has an Ashton Kutcher voodoo doll. Kutcher's like the last-minute substitution who goes the final 10 yards for the winning touchdown. Kennedy had his show long before Kutcher's Punk'd, and yet Kutcher's the MTV darling with Demi Moore on his arm. Well, at least Kennedy got to do Play for a Billion.
I'm told this show is supposed to be uplifting and inspiring, but I don't know which part made me saddest: The "ugly" twin living with Snow White's evil stepmother's magic mirror in her face every day, the guy who hoped his new "action star" appearance would get his crush to finally fall for him or seeing the confusion on the same guy's daughter's face when she met her new daddy. I was freaked, so imagine what was going through her head. Forget about saving for college and get that child into therapy.
Paul McCartney in Red Square
The best part was not the concert but McCartney's orphanage visit, where the parentless children serenaded him with Beatles tunes. McCartney said his wife, Heather, was getting teary-eyed. I'm glad I wasn't the only one.
Dave Attell is in Dublin on St. Patrick's Day, the Emerald Isle equivalent of Mardi Gras. He seems almost at home with his kindred spirits (Guinness and Jameson), but if ever there were a comedian in need of a Queer Eye for the Straight Guy intervention, it's Attell. Carrot Top's hopeless.
Three of my favorite things: Meg Ryan, Kevin Kline and Paris. Sure Ryan has the patent on perky, but can anyone truthfully say that they prefer Proof of Life to You've Got Mail? And of course she chooses Kline over pasty Timothy Hutton. He had us at bon jour. Phoebe Cates, you are my idol.