HBO-Lite?

I know that there are so many more important things to blog about these days, from the mounting stress over the spread of H1N1 to the health-care impasse that seems to be making so many people sick, at least metaphorically. Then there were the recent 9/11 memorials and the 9/12 protests, the latter replete with threats of secession from the union! Maybe all of that is exactly why I desperately need the distractions of HBO these days, now more than ever. But I have to say, I am starting to feel a little nonplussed about my little cable TV vice.

When did HBO start skimping on the minutes? I have been a rabid fan of HBO’s Original Programming since the surreal days of Oz, a prison show that should have ended all prison shows. And I’m still hooked to the channel’s offerings, almost across the board. I’ve watched all the hit show, The Sopranos, Sex and the City, The Wire. Usually, I had to record them and catch up later in the week, but I was pretty anal about following these sprawling narratives as they unfurled over the course of several months. 

One of the great things about HBO’s shows, of course, is that you can watch them sans commerical interruptions. And I used to think that such a fact meant those shows gave viewers something close to a full televisual hour (or half-hour) of viewing. Sure, The Sopranos might end a couple minutes early now and then, but that felt like the exception, not the rule.

Am I wrong to think that HBO’s shows have been getting even a tad leaner than usual lately?

My DVR clocked last night’s episode of Entourage at 23 minutes. And that included the “previously on Entourage” segment (which I always fast-forward) and the too-long opening credit sequence. So, last night’s show was actually more like 21 minutes-long. Maybe even 20. That’s as short as the half-hour we get on broadcast TV. Even shorter. 

I realize that HBO uses the extra time between shows to advertise all of their other programming options, especially during their most popular fare, when they know eyeballs are in front of screens. But 20 minutes is getting ridiculous, no?

All shows should follow the model recently instituted by Showtime’s Weeds.

The Mary-Loiuse Parker vehicle has probably gotten a little worse (not better) every season its been “on the air,” but I still try to catch it whenever I can. I used to think that its problem stemmed from a futile attempt to out-HBO HBO. But now I suspect that the producers may actually be trying to turn “jumping the shark” into a kind of cult-like attraction, a point of pride and an incentive for even more irrationally intense fan loyalty. The show’s ramped-up absurdities keep you hooked, waiting for the next surreal fix, hoping for an even more potently ridiculous televisual high each and every week.

But what I really appreciate about the show is that the producers have decided to forego any musical opening, an elaborate pre-show ritual that for the worst shows on TV almost feels like a kind of stall tactic. And Weeds gave up a lot when they cut their show’s catchy tune, because they had a wonderful song, perfect in tone and text: Eric Anderson’s “Little Boxes.” I enjoyed it every single week. I even almost iTuned it. But the show’s producers decided to cut to the chase and start Weeds without it. Given how much Pay TV is careening off into the opposite direction (more elaborate opening songs and less time for meaty episodes), I appreciate their attempt to swim against that particular current, especially if it means more time for actual storytelling.