TV more than held its own in 2001; We turned to it for news and then for some escape
We may remember 2001 as the year when we learned to appreciate the little things. Like being alive. Spending time with loved ones. Taking vacation at home. And watching TV. Yes, it was a year when Americans stopped taking television for granted. When tragedy struck, we were riveted to our sets. No one had to tell us to be on high alert. Wherever we went, we gravitated to the nearest TV screen for the latest developments. When we needed a respite, TV delivered again, with the most extraordinary menu of entertaining diversions this critic has seen in years. I would gladly stay home for any of the following programs, even in repeats, than be stuck in a movie theater with another over-hyped movie like "Lord of the Rings." (I swear that during those three hours, I aged faster than Bilbo Baggins.) My top 10 of 2001, in no particular order: Coverage of the terrorist attacks. For 72 straight hours, America's broadcast and cable networks set aside their commercials - but rarely their objectivity - to inform and move us in the aftermath of the Sept. 11 attacks. From the scrappy ground zero reports of Fox News Channel and MSNBC to the local coverage of New York 1 to the marathon shifts put in by Peter, Tom and Dan, TV responded to the tragedy with professionalism and poise. Kudos to broadcasters who, after taking a billion-dollar bath in lost commercials, didn't ask for a federal bailout. "Six Feet Under." Though an HBO series about the funeral business could have gone any number of deviant directions (undertakers by day, strippers by night!), "American Beauty" creator Alan Ball chose a surprisingly serious approach, using death as a stage for discussing fundamental issues - the essence of relationships, the yearning of the human spirit - that even the best TV dramas try to avoid. Backed by a cast that delivered routinely stunning performances and scripts that were (you might say) dead on, "Six Feet Under" left us feeling gloriously alive. "The Sopranos." This was the ugliest season yet for HBO's heavyweight champ. One woman was raped, another bludgeoned to death against a guardrail. Even poor Meadow, off at college, wound up sleeping with a creep. Some critics have accused "Sopranos" creator David Chase of glorifying mob life, but his cold-blooded assessments of the misogyny that runs rampant through that culture proved otherwise. Season 3 didn't end with a cliffhanger, but that did nothing to stem our impatience for more (there won't be new episodes until September). "24." No new fall series had more riding on it than this techno-thriller. It has lived up to its hype and then some. Though not a perfect show, "24" moves so quickly you'll learn to forgive (and likely forget) its errors. We're only six hours into the most fateful day in the life of federal counter-terrorism agent Jack Bauer (Kiefer Sutherland), so there's plenty of time to catch up. Once you're on board this runaway train, you won't want off. This is a show you'll find yourself discussing with other fans, if only to piece together the dozens of things that happened in the last episode. "Late Show With David Letterman." Last year, after his hour of need, Dave Letterman shared his still-beating heart and won over ours. This year he opened his heart as never before, spilling out his anger and grief over the attacks on his adopted hometown. Audiences embraced Letterman as the cranky but resilient New Yorker we suddenly found endearing. On the eve of his 20th anniversary in late-night television, he's having his best ratings in half a decade. No one tells a better bin Laden joke. "100 Centre St." Before he agreed to this A&E drama about New York's night court system, director Sidney Lumet hadn't worked in television for 40 years. It was like he never left. Thanks to state-of-the-art digital cameras, each scene of "100 Centre St." is charged with the kind of intensity not seen since the old live dramas Lumet used to make. With quiet power, this show depicts how idealism and pragmatism can co-exist in a place where petty crimes are tried at night and high-level corruption walks freely by day. Alan Arkin alone is reason to discover this show. (It airs at 9 Tuesdays on A&E.) "Scrubs." The most ambitious comedy on TV today is this densely packed sitcom about life as a first-year medical intern. "Scrubs" isn't afraid to take on life-and-death issues, albeit briefly, in between frenetic, cartoonlike scenes of slapstick and fantasy sequences. Some of the fantasies work, others don't, but you have to admire a show that tries to do so much in so little time. "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." The ingenious three-part resurrection of Buffy Summers would have been ambitious enough for this cult favorite. But then it mounted the musical episode to end all musical episodes - an astonishing revue of lyrical delight and visual enchantment. The best show you're still not watching keeps getting better. "The Bernie Mac Show." Here's one way to create a celebrity sitcom: Find someone who's already a bona-fide star, not just another standup comic with an HBO special. Base the show on one of his most popular routines. And take some chances. The folks behind "The Bernie Mac Show" did all this in creating this offbeat family sitcom, giving their star an unconventional stage to show off his uncommon charms. "Reba." Another way to create a celebrity sitcom: Come up with a sparkling variation on a tried-and-true theme. Make it funny. Then find your celebrity star. That was the approach taken here, as creator Allison Gibson plotted a point in the dysfunction junction somewhere between "Roseanne" and "Married ... With Children." Later, country legend Reba McEntire was recruited to play the embattled mom, which she does with grit and crackle. If I had more space I would also tell you why I watch "Everybody Loves Raymond," "ER," Showtime's "Resurrection Blvd.," HBO's "Project Greenlight," "Boston Public," "The Guardian," "The Tick" and the amazing new National Geographic Channel. But if I did that, I would miss my deadline - and that's one of the little things in life one never takes for granted. To reach Aaron Barnhart, call (816) 234-4790 or visit the TV Barn Web site at www.tvbarn.com. @ART CAPTION:Dan Rather @ART:Photo (color)
