That's Still On? "Brooke Knows Best" might be the worst

Whatcha gonna do when divorce runs wild on YOU?

Yeah, I'm an old-school WWF fan, so you'll have to excuse my enthusiasm for a VH1 CelebReality project that might result in cameos from Bam Bam Bigelow or "Ravishing" Rick Rude. (Wait, they're both dead? Errrr, nevermind.)

But really, I was probably most curious (morbidly, of course) by the fact that the Hogans are still on TV in some meaningful capacity.

After all, celebrity outside his customary brand of yellow trunks has not been super kind to "Terry" Hulk Hogan since he was placed atop the "Father Knows Best" mantle for reality TV.

Since the Hulkster's show debuted, he and longtime wife Linda announced a divorce (Hulk allegedly couldn't keep Hulkamania from running wild with one of his daughter's friends), son Nick served six months in jail for a high-speed car crash that left a passenger with serious brain injuries for the rest of his life, and daughter Brooke ... well, she gets plenty of magazine covers showing her tight bod, but her singing career is about as credible as Paris Hilton's.

Already in its second season, "Brooke Knows Best" follows Little Miss She-Hulk as she ventures out "on her own" in a big, bad world where not everyone says their prayers or eats their vitamins. Like the "Ashlee Simpson Show," it's a transparent vehicle for her to promote a vapid music career, so ultimately, there's no reason anyone other than dudes who read Maxim on the can would want to check this show out.

"Brooke Knows Best" is "Jon and Kate" plus "The Hills," so you can imagine the scripted drama that unfolds. In the episode I watched, Hulk introduces his new girlfriend -- man, I thought Thunderlips could do SO much better even in his crippled condition -- to Brooke. The two share several uncomfortable silences before Brooke drops the "Are you getting married? Do you want to have kids?" bomb on her. Hulk's gal pal replies: "First, he has to get divorced."

That makes for an appropriate segue to Linda Hogan's mansion, where she's shacking up with a 19-year-old who apparently used to live with the family back in their healthier days. Hulk talks about how painful it is to see a 19-year-old profiting off his blood, sweat and tears in the ring. While taking a well-orchestrated boat ride past the old crib, the Hogans' dogs still living at the family house see the boat from shore and start howling like mad. This causes Brooke to cry ... and well, it's actually kind of a downer.

That the whole situation was contrived should probably diminish any emotion behind the moment. But it seemed pretty legit even if Brooke knew what was coming.

Bottom line: You can't have two sets of cameras following now separated parents (at right) and expect that everything is legit between both sides. The worst example of this comes when Linda calls Brooke on the phone to chat about their ongoing rift -- Brooke disapproves of the age difference in her new relationship. Brooke has to pretend that she's SHOCKED to receive the call when her roommate answers and says, "It's your mom." On the positive side, according to my wife, Brooke's acting was much better than anything she's ever seen on "The Hills." Small victories.

So ... yawn ... not much to be excited about -- unless you fall in the neanderthal category that believes every blonde with a tan and nice body is automatically super hot. If anything, this show is an accurate reflection of what the Gosselins are about to experience when their TLC show resumes post divorce. Both sides will have to pretend that they don't see what's coming, when in "reality," every situation has been plotted out well in advance inside some sleazy production room.

So while "Brooke Knows Best" is pretty horrible, it's probably not the worst Hogan reality installment I can think of. That title would be reserved for "Nick Knows Not to Drop the Soap."

That's Still On? Score: 2 (out of 10)

DVR Priority: Somewhere between "Mr. Nanny" and "The Greatest Matches of Doink the Clown's Career"

What You Could Be Doing Instead: Taking steroids in an effort to die prematurely like most professional wrestlers. Repeatedly ashing yourself in the head with a steel chair. Watching "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" so you can see Jon Gosselin's balding head instead of Hulk Hogan's.

-- Thomas Rozwadowski, trozwado@greenbaypressgazette.com

That's Still On? "Eli Stone"

Let's face it: There's a lot of TV out there. It can be easy for a show to sneak under your radar, like many-a Russian submarine, and keep powering along unnoticed, watched by just enough people to keep it afloat. (We know subs don't traditionally float, but stay with us here.) That's why the focus of our Channel Surfing series, "That's Still On?," is to seek out these Red Octobers and bring them to the surface. These aren't necessarily the shows you should be watching ... these are shows you didn't even know you could be watching.

Today's That's Still On?: "Eli Stone"

I'll admit, I thought "Eli Stone" was cancelled last year. I don't know anyone who has ever watched it. I've never heard anyone talk about it. I haven't even accidentally stumbled across a review of it while searching for "Pushing Daisies" or "Lost" scoops on the Web.

But a recent barrage of "Eli's Coming" promos on ABC got me thinking: how awful could it truly be? After all, when NBC aired "Freaks and Geeks" promos back in the day, I instantly thought, "Man, what a gimmicky name for a show?" With "Eli Stone," I actually found the promos to be somewhat engaging -- you know, save for Katie Holmes' annoying smile staring back at me. And since Jonny Lee Miller (the aforementioned Eli Stone) earned such good will from his role as Sick Boy in "Trainspotting," I decided to watch last night's Season Two premiere and see if the show was worth telling others about.

The verdict having missed the entire first season? This show is not only cohesive. It's surprisingly good. Perhaps due to the writers' strike, last night's first "Stone" episode of the season -- "The Path" -- did a lot of subtle backtracking for old viewers as well as new ones. Still, it was crafted in a way that kept fresh plots moving forward, presumably aimed at capitalizing on the faith (an operative word, I found, for "Eli Stone" episodes) ABC has shown in Greg Berlanti and Marc Guggenheim's fanciful vision.

In short form, Eli Stone plays a slick San Francisco lawyer who because of an aneurysm, starts having vivid hallucinations that oddly, involve pop singer/bathroom sex addict George Michael. His Chinese acupuncturist, Dr. Chen, believes these to be divinely inspired visions of the future, and as the Season Two premiere reminds us often, Eli actually predicts an earthquake, saving several lives in the process. Not wanting to accept the responsibility that comes with being a "prophet," Eli has the aneurysm removed -- and "The Path" chronicles how this has affected others, namely Chen and Eli's supportive boss, Jordan Wethersby, who seemed to be moving his law firm toward a path of real spiritual change and social justice -- not just defending evil predatory banks, as soon becomes the case in rather timely fashion.

Eli can't practice law until his health is cleared, and his therapist, played by Sigourney "There is no Dana, only Zuul" Weaver, convinces him that he misses what the visions meant to his life, that without them he'll revert back to an unscrupulous, money-hungry lawyer, or basically a soulless egomaniac without purpose. Eli just wants to practice law with a clean bill of health, but quickly reverses course when his brother, Nathan, is struck with an Eli-like vision of a crane falling through the roof of a bank. It's later revealed that Jordan Wethersby is inside the bank at the time, and in order to convince the rescue crew to search in the right place -- a weak structured location discovered with the help of Chen -- he has to convince a judge to grant an official order.

The courtroom part becomes a bit convoluted, but it also displays a nice balance of faith vs. reason -- the idea that God and divinely inspired rituals might, in fact, have a place in the courtroom if one must place his or her hand on the Bible. The change in Eli's prescribed path only comes when he realizes that Therapist Weaver is, in fact, not a real therapist, but a "fiduciary" of God poised to talk some sense into him, or in Eli's view, "punish" him and others for basically giving God the middle finger. ("I think that grace fulfilled you in a way you didn't even know you needed, and the only thing crazy about you is the fact that you don't seem to realize that," Weaver's character tells Eli.) If Eli won't be God's prophet, then Nathan must. Eli, knowing Nathan wants to have a normal family life with his new live-in girlfriend, agrees to take the aneurysm back and stop questioning what he can't explain.

Real visions or just boring ol' faith? That's the backbone of "Eli Stone." Certainly there's ambiguity, but even if Eli is "imagining" his visions, he's acting on them and has already been proven right several times. He's also not hiding his daffiness to others. They're completely aware the visions in his head are set to George Michael tunes. So coupled with the shark-infested backdrop of a law office, it makes for a nice dichotomy -- one that isn't always firing on all cylinders, but makes for a fast paced hour that leads to a few laughs and some tough questions about moral responsibility and answering to a higher power.

Is it a show worth putting YOUR faith in? In the first and only episode I saw, there were some nice wrinkles involved, and nothing that would lead you to confuse its semi-preachy premise with say, "Touched By An Angel." "Eli Stone" may have a ways to go before becoming appointment television, but it certainly can't be worse than another hallucination-heavy show, "Ally McBeal." And didn't a lot of people watch that?

That's Still On? Score: 7.5 (out of 10)
DVR Priority: Medium
What You Could Be Doing Instead: Mocking others for spiritual beliefs you'll never have.

-- Thomas Rozwadowski, trozwado@greenbaypressgazette.com

that's still on? "the big bang theory"

Let's face it: There's a lot of TV out there. It can be easy for a show to sneak under your radar, like many-a Russian submarine, and keep powering along unnoticed, watched by just enough people to keep it afloat. (I know subs don't traditionally float, but stay with me here.) That's why the focus of this new Channel Surfing series, That's Still On?, is to seek out these Red Octobers and bring them to the surface. These aren't necessarily the shows you should be watching ... these are shows you didn't even know you could be watching.

Today's That's Still On?: "The Big Bang Theory."

Lifelong nerd that I am, I was intrigued by CBS' "The Big Bang Theory" when I first heard about it. This is great, I thought. A show about nerds, a show celebrating the nerd lifestyle, that will thrust nerds into the mainstream of popular culture and help me get a date! I shall watch this show! And then I completely forgot about it. (But Thrust Nerds would make a kick-ass band name, don't you think?)

I forgot about it so spectacularly, I could've sworn it debuted last season already, and was now well into its second year. But no, "The Big Bang Theory," produced by sitcom stalwart Chuck Lorre ("Dharma and Greg," "Two and a Half Men"), first aired in September of aught-seven, which I know seems like forever ago when you take into account the writers strike. But this kind of space-time anomaly can occur when a show simply vanishes off my plane of reality, drifting aimlessly in a forgotten netherworld populated by relatives' birthdays, the Grammys, and most of my high school education.

Yet while I'm not alone in my obliviousness to this show, if recent Nielsen ratings are any indication, I may well be in the minority. "Theory" landed at #42 (with an 8 share, whatever the hey that means) for the week of April 21, the most recent date available from my exhaustive Wikipedia research. While the show has never cracked the top 20, it's never dipped below 50 — and that, my friends, is the sign of a mediocre, long-lasting sitcom.

"Mediocre" is the key word here. (How mediocre is it? Its theme song is performed by Barenaked Ladies. Yeah ... 1998 called, it wants its crappy novelty band back.) The episode I watched tonight — the only episode I've ever seen, keep in mind — was pure sitcom fooferall. In an age when the traditional situation comedy has two feet, an arm, and most of its torso in the grave, "Theory" is clinging to the terra firma by its multi-cameraed, laugh-tracked abused, bare teeth. Even the show's premise has the stink of rigor mortis: A hot, dim blonde (Kaley Cuoco) moves in across the hall from four brilliant, shut-in physicists. She then befriends the poor lonely dweebs and teaches them about the outside world, BECAUSE THAT HAPPENS. She even, from what I can tell, develops feelings for one of dorks, Leonard, played by Johnny Galecki ("Roseanne").

This particular episode, titled "The Peanut Reaction" (each episode has vaguely sciencey-sounding titles, like "The Dumpling Paradox," "The Fuzzy Boots Corollary," and "The Luminous Fish Effect" — again, Wikipedia), dealt with Leonard's birthday, and his friends' quest to throw him a party, something he never had before. (Of course not, seeing as how geeks never party — not even with cake and Pin the Tail on the Donkey.)

The other three geeks contribute with varying degrees of geeklike behavior. Sheldon (Jim Parsons), the bastard lovechild of Niles Crane and Toby Radloff, set on buying his roommate a wireless router as a present, misses the party because people at the electronic store keep asking him tech questions, which he is only too happy to field until security is called. Creepy little sleazoid Howard (Simon Helberg), tasked with keeping Leonard busy while the party is set up, fakes an allergic reaction to a peanut. This fails to fool Leonard for very long, and so, promised by hot neighbor Penny that she will hook him up with one of her slutty friends, Howard gobbles up a peanut granola bar, prompting the show's best line: "I'm doing this for you, little guy." As for the lone minority character, Rajnesh (Kunal Nayyar) ... well, I guess he should be happy he's got steady acting work, because he didn't have much to do this week.

From what little I've seen, I can understand the appeal of this kind of show. It goes down easy, offers a few genuine laughs, and doesn't take a lot of thought (which is disappointing, considering it's about frickin' physicists). It leads into the more-popular "How I Met Your Mother," and probably carries a lot of that show's viewership, who don't care to have to change the channel come 7:30. (I watched tonight's "Mother" as well, by the way, featuring the return of Britney Spears, and it made me want to pry my teeth out with a butter knife.)

I'm not about to structure my Monday night around "Theory," but as far as mediocre sitcoms go, you could do a lot worse. (COUGH HowIMetYourMother COUGH.) Now that CBS has picked it up for a second season — wait, seriously, this isn't its second season already? — let's see just how long this run-of-the-mill comedy can tread ratings water.

That's Still On? Score: 6.4 (out of 10)
DVR Priority: Low
What You Could Be Doing Instead: Reading Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time."

— Adam Reinhard, lifeisfunnybutnothahafunny@gmail.com