Bedford Diaries
Ahh, bittersweet premiere. Given that Milo Ventimiglia already made a beeline for NBC's upcoming

Heroes, I couldn't help but feel that WB was just going through the motions here but hey, I understand. They spent good money on this show and they're gonna air it, by golly. More power to them. OK, before we bite into the meat of this sandwich, I admit it: I had high expectations for this show. Can you blame me? It was created by Barry Levinson and Tom Fontana, and if those names sound familiar, it's because they also created a little show called Homicide: Life on the Street, all seven seasons of which grace my DVD shelf. And I wish I could say that Bedford was everything I thought it'd be, but my mom taught me lying was bad. There was nothing wrong with the premise college kids learn about sex in an ultraliberal NYC school, can you say ka-ching? but that's where the good ended and the soppy, melodramatic writing began. And it's a shame, because a couple of the characters could potentially be pretty compelling: Ventimiglia's rich boy Richard and Corri English's "crazy" Natalie, for example. When he kissed her forehead and walked away, that was an original moment, though I wish the writers had kept their relationship hidden a little longer. That's true across the board, actually everybody blabbed so much about their issues/problems/backgrounds that I now know everything about everybody, which isn't the smartest way to keep an audience coming back week after week. Here's hoping for better future eps, otherwise we're gonna have a dull hour of TV on our hands. And that, boys and girls, is something even sex can't fix.