This is my fifth autumn on the TV beat, and in previous years, even as cable demanded more and more of my attention and respect, I was always struck by the wild swings, the spectacular hits, and the far more common spectacular misses of the Big Four. There was something noble and, occasionally, inspiring about the way in which they strove to stave off extinction or, worse, irrelevance. Sometimes their attempts were legitimately impressive; other times they were horrific. Some even involved actual dinosaurs. But even amid inevitable carnage, every fall carried with it a flicker of passion, a resilient, dark-denying spark that said “I am alive!” Or at least, “I am worth loathing!”
No longer. I don’t even need a word to sum up the fall 2015 broadcast slate, not when an emoticon will do: ¯\_(ツ
_/¯. This is the sorriest collection of recycled ideas, neutered groupthink, and depressing mediocrity I’ve ever seen. You have to understand: I’m not just saying nothing is good. I’m also saying nothing is even the slightest bit compelling. Or interesting. Or unique. Or even bad in a Put On Your Sunglasses, David Caruso, and Take a Look at That Car Crash sort of way. These shows are the empty, halfhearted shrugs of decaying empires that have no idea what viewers want anymore — and have committed the full force of their not-inconsiderable assets to proving it.