Author: Overstuffed DVR

It’s been almost two weeks since the announcement of the 2014 Emmy nominations, and now that I’ve had an appropriate amount of time to heal (thanks summer vacation!), I feel ready to talk about my anger in an erudite and thoughtful manner—as opposed to the senseless rage that boiled up inside of me initially. So progress.

Here’s the thing. As we’ve discussed previously, the overwhelming amount of excellent television inundating us from all directions—including original programming streaming from sources like Hulu, Netflix, and even Yahoo (hurray Community!)—has a downfall: snubs become inevitable. There is virtually no conceivable way to shower accolades on all of the deserving series and performances out there, and I get that. However, what I don’t get is that—given the ever-deepening pool of contenders from which to draw—the Emmys decided to urinate directly into that pool like some kind of public miscreant, contaminating the waters with that most toxic of substances: laziness.

I’m not sure how or why I managed to delude myself into believing that this year’s nominations would flout the tradition of celebrating mediocrity that has become—with the occasional notable exception—the lifeblood of this awards show. But I went into this list of nominations with a heart full of hope, only for Downton Abbey to rip it, still beating, from my chest. Dammit, Downton Abbey!

Ever the pesky traditionalist, Emmy sought to highlight a predictable crop of honorees; fortunately, some actually deserving series– Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, True Detective, Fargo, Veep–wound up in the midst of the otherwise underwhelming crop. Also, apparently Emmy voters know Portlandia and The Spoils of Babylon exist! Color me surprised. But for every delightful shock, five eye-rolling choices followed. I’m no statistician, but those are craptastic odds.

Television is a rapidly changing medium, producing the most provocative and spellbinding storytelling you’ll find anywhere, and with these changes afoot, it’s high time Emmy stopped tinkling in the pool we love.  Jump in, swim around, and see what all the fuss is about.

Seriously, the water is good.

**Below, I’ve listed the nominations and will then sound off on a few things the Emmys got right as well as the heaping bucketful they did not.

 

2014 Emmy Nominations

 

Comedy Series

The Big Bang Theory

Louie

Modern Family

Orange is the New Black

Silicon Valley

Veep

 

Drama Series

Breaking Bad

Downton Abbey

Game of Thrones

House of Cards

Mad Men

True Detective

 

Lead Actress, Comedy

Lena Dunham, Girls

Edie Falco, Nurse Jackie

Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Veep

Melissa McCarthy, Mike and Molly

Amy Poehler, Parks and Recreation

Taylor Schilling, Orange is the New Black

 

Lead Actor, Comedy

Louis C.K., Louie

Don Cheadle, House of Lies

Ricky Gervais, Derek

Matt LeBlanc, Episodes

William H. Macy, Shameless

Jim Parsons, The Big Bang Theory

 

Lead Actress, Drama

Lizzy Caplan, Masters of Sex

Claire Danes, Homeland

Michelle Dockery, Downton Abbey

Julianna Margulies, The Good Wife

Kerry Washington, Scandal

Robin Wright, House of Cards

 

Lead Actor, Drama

Bryan Cranston, Breaking Bad

Jeff Daniels, The Newsroom

Jon Hamm, Mad Men

Woody Harrelson, True Detective

Matthew McConaughey, True Detective

Kevin Spacey, House of Cards

 

 

Supporting Actress, Drama

Anna Gunn, Breaking Bad

Maggie Smith, Downton Abbey

Joanne Froggatt, Downton Abbey

Lena Headey, Game of Thrones

Christina Hendricks, Mad Men

Christine Baranski, The Good Wife

 

Supporting Actor, Drama

Peter Dinklage, Game of Thrones

Jon Voight, Ray Donovan

Josh Charles, The Good Wife

Mandy Patinkin, Homeland

Aaron Paul, Breaking Bad

Jim Carter, Downton Abbey

 

Supporting Actress, Comedy

Julie Bowen, Modern Family

Allison Janey, Mom

Kate Mulgrew, Orange is the New Black

Kate McKinnon, Saturday Night Live

Mayim Bialik, The Big Bang Theory

Anna Chlumsky, Veep

 

Supporting Actor, Comedy

Andre Braugher, Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Adam Driver, Girls

Ty Burrell, Modern Family

Jesse Tyler Ferguson, Modern Family

Fred Armisen, Portlandia

Tony Hale, Veep

 

Guest Actress, Drama

Dianna Rigg, Game of Thrones

Kate Mara, House of Cards

Allison Janey, Masters of Sex

Kate Burton, Scandal

Margo Martindale, The Americans

Jane Fonda, The Newsroom

 

Guest Actor, Drama

Paul Giamatti, Downton Abbey

Reg E. Cathey, House of Cards

Robert Morse, Mad Men

Beau Bridges, Masters of Sex

Joe Morton, Scandal

Dylan Baker, The Good Wife

 

Guest Actress, Comedy

Uzo Aduba, Orange is the New Black

Laverne Cox, Orange is the New Black

Natasha Lyonne, Orange is the New Black

Tina Fey, Saturday Night Live

Melissa McCarthy, Saturday Night Live

Joan Cusack, Shameless

 

Guest Actor, Comedy

Nathan Lane, Modern Family

Steve Buscemi, Portlandia

Jimmy Fallon, Saturday Night Live

Louis C.K., Saturday Night Live

Bob Newhart, The Big Bang Theory

Gary Cole, Veep

 

Outstanding Miniseries

American Horror Story: Coven

Bonnie and Clyde

Fargo

Luther

Treme

The White Queen

 

Outstanding Television Movie

Killing Kenedy

Muhammad Ali’s Greatest Fight

The Normal Heart

Sherlock: His Last Vow

The Trip to Bountiful

 

Lead Actress, Miniseries or Movie

Helena Bonham Carter, Burton and Taylor

Minnie Driver, Return to Zero

Jessica Lange, American Horror Story: Coven

Sarah Paulson, American Horror Story: Coven

Cicely Tyson, The Trip to Bountiful

Kristin Wiig, The Spoils of Babylon

 

Lead Actor, Miniseries or Movie

Benedict Cumberbatch, Sherlock: His Last Vow

Chiwetel Ejiofor, Dancing on the Edge

Idris Elba, Luther

Martin Freeman, Fargo

Mark Ruffalo, The Normal Heart

Billy Bob Thornton, Fargo

 

Supporting Actress, Miniseries or Movie

Frances Conroy, American Horror Story: Coven

Kathy Bates, American Horror Story: Coven

Angela Bassett, American Horror Story: Coven

Allison Tolman, Fargo

Ellen Burstyn, Flowers in the Attic

Julia Roberts, The Normal Heart

 

Supporting Actor, Miniseries or Movie

Colin Hanks, Fargo

Martin Freeman, Sherlock: His Last Vow

Jim Parsons, The Normal Heart

Joe Mantello, The Normal Heart

Alfred Molina, The Normal Heart

Matt Bomer, The Normal Heart

 

Variety Series

The Colbert Report

The Daily Show

Jimmy Kimmel Live

Real Time with Bill Maher

Saturday Night Live

The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon

 

Reality—Competition Program

The Amazing Race

Dancing with the Stars

Project Runway

So You Think You Can Dance

Top Chef

The Voice

 

 

The Bad

1) The House of Cards & Downton Abbey Effect

I dig both of these shows. Really, I do. But their inclusion in the Best Drama category is, simply, laughable. For the love of all that is Padmore, I recapped the fourth season of Downton on this site and will likely do so again for the fifth season this winter. But you know and I know: season 4 wasn’t very good. It just wasn’t. Using Anna’s rape plot as an excuse to descend into melodrama, this string of episodes deserves to be little more than a footnote in Downton’s otherwise excellent history, not yet another year singled out for alleged greatness. And Jim Carter? You’re a lovable guy and Mr. Carson is delight, but his plot about a doomed love from his actor past? Kill me.

And while we’re at it, can we just admit once and for all that we should like House of Cards more than we do? I mean for crying out loud did that show run in circles for the bulk of its second season. Raymond Tusk this, Raymond Tusk that, whoops fell into a threeway. Sure, the last shot of the season felt iconic and earned, but man was the journey a slog. Whichever way you slice it, this doesn’t belong within one hundred yards of the Best Drama Category, but good for Reg E. Cathey’s guest nod as Freddy—well-deserved.

Both of these shows are pure Emmy bait, and consider that bait taken and consumed. But two of the best dramas on television? Not a chance.

 

2) Homeland’s quality implosion

The third season of Homeland was a wretched, sloppy, manipulative, and nonsensical twelve episodes, so I’m glad it didn’t get its third consecutive best drama nod.  A display of common sense on the part of the Emmys. Go figure. Claire Danes did what she could, but Carrie Matheson has devolved into a parody of herself–seriously, we get it: Carrie goes off her meds, her eyes get wide, she stammers, no one believes her, she says, “Dammit Saul” and the whole gravy train keeps a-rolling.  Pass.

I love you, Mandy Patinkin.  I do.  I endured the first season of Criminal Minds for you, and if that doesn’t prove the depth of my devotion, then what would?  But, let’s face it: you’ve been better.  Look, I don’t blame you because the writing this season was–as previously intimated–horrendous.  Still, you didn’t deserve an Emmy nod, and that’s just a fact.

 

3) (Too Often) Name Recognition Trumps Deserving Talent

Don Cheadle.  Matt LeBlanc.  Melissa McCarthy.   Jon Voight.  Allison Janey.   Jeff Daniels.  Lena Dunham.  What do they all have in common?  The very mention of their names gets Emmy voters all hot and bothered, some for inexplicable reasons (ahem, Mr. Voight).  Melissa McCarthy is a hilarious woman, but does she need to be nominated for Mike and Molly?  You’re telling me the depth and breadth of her performance on a show built around fat jokes trumps Emmy Rossum’s dynamite turn on Shameless?  Or that Don Cheadle, usually spectacular but sleep-walking through the travesty that is House of Lies, delivered a more nuanced, multi-faceted performance than Chris Messina in The Mindy Project?  And don’t even get me started on Jon Voight wrestling Dean Norris’s Breaking Bad nod away from him just because the man, once upon a time, delivered the world’s best performance in Anaconda (I’m guessing that’s the rationale).  Allison Janey, you more than earned a nod for your fantastic work in Masters of Sex as a neglected wife learning the truth of her husband’s closeted sexuality, but did you need to double up for your work in bottom-of-the-barrel Moms?  Because I’ll tell you, no one made me laugh harder than Brooklyn Nine-Nine‘s  Chelsea Peretti on this list, but no one knows who she is, so bye-bye hope and hello mundanity.  The one that hurts the most to admit is Jeff Daniels, whom I really love; the fact that he won last year for Newsroom for playing a thinly drawn character baffles.  That he found himself nominated again positively infuriates.

Thomas Middleditch.  Christopher Evan Welch.  Jeremy Allen White.  TATIANA FRIGGING MASLANY.  Annet Mahendru.  Melissa McBride.  Chris O’Dowd.  What do they have in common?  In addition to those slighted above, they form an ever-expanding roster of those snubbed due to Emmy’s borderline fetishistic obsession with tradition for one simple reason: none of them are household names.  A shame.  With Emmy’s help, they could’ve been.

 

4) The Americans shut out (almost)

Nope.  No, no, no, no, no, no.  How?  How?  How?  How?  Why?  Why?  Why?  Why?  Good for Margo Martindale scooping up the solitary nod for her role as devious handler Claudia, but again, it’s a safe way to reward a show on the cusp of popularity by offering a token nomination to a previous winner.  Boo.

 

5) The Good Wife shut out of Best Drama

This, to me, makes no sense.  Network drama’s finest twenty-two episodes of the television season gets pushed aside by a British soap that’s been so much better and an easy political drama that hasn’t figured out how to use Netflix to its narrative advantage?  While both Downton Abbey and House of Cards coasted in their respective seasons, The Good Wife brought in a demolition team to reimagine and reinvigorate a show that needed neither reimagining nor reinvigorating.  If the Emmys had credibility to begin with, then this might have hurt the award show’s reputation.  But let’s just call it another example of #EmmyIgnorance.  Get that trending!

 

6) The death of comedy, aka The Big Bang Theory

I know you like The Big Bang Theory and think I’m a communist or something, but–comedy being subjective–I find it eye-rollingly lazy, pandering, and fundamentally unfunny.  I don’t believe it belongs anywhere near the Best Comedy category, but others do.  I disagree, but fine.

But let’s chat about Jim Parsons, who seems like a nice guy and is not devoid of talent.  Apparently there was this television movie called The Normal Heart that had a deal of good acting in, and Parsons deserves recognition for his performance there.  Couldn’t we have left it at that?  Please?

 

7) Parks and Recreation doesn’t get the love it deserves.

I think Li’l Sebastian would be mighty disappointed by this turn of events, and as every Pawneeian knows (other than Ben Wyatt, of course), you never want to disappoint Li’l Sebastian.  Shame on you, Emmys!  You made the hologram of Li’l Sebastian cry.  Feel good about yourself?  Unbelievable…

 

The Good

Still, like an emotionally abusive partner, the Emmys know to give us just enough love and attention to keep us scrambling back year after year despite the dysfunctional dynamic that’s developed between the two of us.  For example:

1) Portlandia

Holy crap, I didn’t know those doling out Emmy nominations even knew IFC existed, let alone actually watched the wonderful parade of bizarreness that is Portlandia.  Armisen does incredible work bringing his characters to life, none quite as brilliantly as his overzealous feminist/book shop owner/Lady Moon worshipper, in a comic tradition very much borne of Monty Python–on acid.  Throw in an original song nomination and a nod for Steve Buscemi’s guest work and you have a weirdly hip string of nominations for the Emmy’s.  Nice!

 

2) The ladies of Orange is the New Black

Just when I go on a rant of the Emmys favoring name recognition, along come the newbies of Orange is the New Black to blow up my theory.  Kate Mulgrew and Taylor Schilling seemed the most likely to appeal to voters, but that Laverne Cox became the first transgender actress ever to receive an Emmy nomination made me bristle with hope and excitement.  And Uzo Aduba is a revelation as Crazy Eyes and more than earned her nomination.  Wouldn’t you agree, Dandy-Lion?

 

3) Treme

Thanks to the impenetrable classification system that comprises Emmy categorization, Treme could not submit its excellent final season as a drama due to a too-few episode order, leaving the mini-series category wide open.  And wouldn’t you know: there it is!  This little gem of a show has flown under virtually everyone’s radar, so this token recognition (and, make no mistake, this show, as great as it is, doesn’t have a chance in hell in winning) feels like a nice pat on the back, a comforting reminder that those of us who watched this excellent, unique series were–miraculously–not alone.

While we’re on the subject of mini-series, I’m so pleased that we have finally split mini-series and television movie into two categories.  Good looking out there, Emmy.

 

4) Fargo cleans up

This brilliant mini-series is going to win a slew of awards come Emmys night, and I hope Allison Tolman is amongst them.  Molly Solverson became such a wonderful character thanks to Tolman’s subtle, understated performance as the determined detective.  Also an unknown (dammit there she goes taking the wind out of my rant-soaked sails again), this talented young lady deserves all of the awards please.  In fact, Fargo deserves them all.

 

5) The highest quality does not get snubbed.

Breaking Bad.  True Detective.  Game of Thrones.  Fargo.  Veep.  Silicon Valley.  Louie.  Had Emmy ballots been devoid of these names over and over again, then the system really would feel broken beyond repair.  It’s not enough to excuse the myriad snubs listed above, but we have to pause and admit that perhaps this award show might realize it’s peeing into our TV pool but just can’t help itself.  Time for a change, Emmys.  You know some of the quality that’s out there, so now you need to stop relying on humdrum expectation and do like the best of television does: reinvent yourself.

 

Thanks for reading!

And now the moment that we’ve all been waiting for, the final prize: Outstanding Drama Series.  With so much excellent television populating our screens these days, settling on the six best dramatic series proved no simple task.

Then, to further complicate matters, some of my favorite dramatic television of the past year chose to submit under the mini-series category, including Fargo and Broadchurch.  It felt strange not including them on this final list, but when I set out on this blogging project, I chose to limit myself by submission choices.

So now, without further delay, here we go: my choices for the best drama series!

 

                                         

The Americans                                                                   Breaking Bad

 

                                        

Game of Thrones                                                            The Good Wife

 

                                       

 Masters of Sex                                                              True Detective

 

Honorable Mentions: Parenthood; Person of Interest; Orphan Black; Banshee; House of Cards

 

“Show your work…”

Look, you’ve heard me wax poetic about these series already, and if brevity is really is the soul of wit, then let’s see if I can convince you of the greatness of these shows in just one sentence each?  #ChallengeAccepted

The Americans: The insightful, confident, and exciting spy drama that Homeland wishes it could be turns into a probing exploration of identity and allegiance–both personal and national–that refuses to pander to its audience.

Breaking Bad: The finest dramatic series the medium has ever produced–SAY ITS NAME–signed off with eight of its best hours, including the all-time great gut punch of an episode that is “Ozymandias.”

Game of Thrones: To reduce this series to its genre classification–fantasy–is to undersell a dramatic series sure to enter the upper echelon of all time greats in its depiction of loyalty, family drama, and devious political maneuvering; plus, DRAGONS!

The Good Wife: Network television’s best drama revitalized itself not once but twice in its fifth season–first, the dismantling of the show’s central partnership and established narrative beats and second, the sudden death of a major character–to prove that the best series are never complacent with what’s been done but are eager to take on a new future.

Masters of Sex: An excellent historical portrait and character study of William Masters and Virginia Johnson that transcends the tropes of standard biopics, Showtime’s banner series is also one of the most relevant series of modern times thanks to Lizzy Caplan’s stunning performance that turns Johnson into a metaphor for the plight of contemporary women.

True Detective: The television event that galvanized its viewers in ways few series ever have by depicting a crime of almost mythical opaqueness that begged for speculation, analysis, and repeat viewing, anchored by stunning performances and labyrinthine plotting.

 

Well that completes my Dream Emmy Ballot blogging project!  #FollowThrough Thank you for reading, and don’t forget to check out the actual Emmy nominations posted later this week!

When it comes to delivering outstanding performances on a weekly basis, few have mastered it as confidently and assuredly as the six women listed below.  This stands as an even more incredible feat when you consider that all six of these characters went to pretty dark places in their respective seasons, from manipulating a personal tragedy for political gain to struggling with the grief of losing a loved one, and the darker the trails blazed, the more fascinating these women became.

All right, let’s get to it.  Here they are, the talented women who fill up my Dream Emmy Ballot for Lead Actress in a Drama Series!

 

                                                   

Lizzy Caplan,                                                                       Julianna Margulies, 

Masters of Sex                                                                             The Good Wife

 

                                                  

Tatiana Maslany,                                                                        Keri Russell,

Orphan Black                                                                               The Americans

 

                                                      

Kerry Washington,                                                                     Robin Wright,            

Scandal                                                                                               House of Cards    

 

Honorable Mentions: Diane Kruger, The Bridge; Michelle Dockery, Downton Abbey

 

“Show your work…”

Last year’s two breakout performances, Tatiana Maslany and Keri Russell, deserve recognition for their roles in the mind-bending Orphan Black and the powder keg drama of The Americans, if nothing else, because both women masterfully embody multiple characters.  As with her on-screen husband Matthew Rhys, Russell must make it clear that her character Elizabeth Jennings does the acting when it comes to meeting assets or exploiting desperate romantics in the name of gathering clandestine intelligence.  But what fascinates about Russell is the way she maintains Elizabeth’s focused sense of purpose and refusal to allow American beliefs and material goods to bastardize her own Soviet identity.  The contrast between her stoic certainty and Phillip’s conflicting opinions generates an interesting undercurrent in their marriage that adds further depth to this already fascinating portrait.  Oh, and homegirl can kick some serious tukus and looks mighty good doing it, her physical deftness revealing still another facet of Elizabeth Jennings.  Maslany, meanwhile, has the challenging job of playing multiple cloned versions of herself and creating distinctive personalities for each.  Miraculously, she does, and we almost forget it’s Maslany playing  Beth and Sarah and Katya and Allison and Cosima and…But then Maslany has to kick it into high gear and pull something right out of The Americans, as in the great season one episode when Allison impersonates Sarah in front of Sarah’s daughter.  The mind-blowing implications of Maslany having to keep so many characters straight in and of itself is a considerable feat; however, when she can impersonate one character through the eyes of another, I want to throw all the Emmys at her.  Oh, and homegirl can kick some serious tukus and looks mighty good doing it.  See a pattern here?

Two sides of the same coin, Kerry Washington’s Olivia Pope and Robin Wright’s Claire Underwood both operate within the political sphere of Washington D.C. and manipulate it to their advantage–but often for very different reasons.  For Claire, her dubious nature is just a means to an end for the preservation of her own legacy through the legacy of her husband, Francis.  She’s not above turning a personal tragedy into a publicized plea for support or lying baldly to the American people, and Wright’s icy cool demeanor becomes the perfect conduit for this political dubiousness.  Even when House of Cards struggles to maintain consistent quality, Wright’s performance never falters and–that alone–should earn her a second Emmy nomination.  Meanwhile, Olivia Pope faced a morality crisis in the back half of Scandal‘s excellent second season as she struggled to come to terms with her involvement in the rigging of Fitz’s election.  For a woman known as the D.C. fixer capable of shoving aside her ethics when they interfere with her end game, Pope’s internal conflict became fascinating thanks to Washington’s stellar performance.  And, let’s be honest, Washington can spout off Shonda’s trademark million-mile-an-hour dialogue with the best of them without missing a beat, and that’s no easy task.

In The Good Wife‘s fifth–and best–season, Julianna Margulies’s Alicia Florrick had a ton of great material to sink her teeth into: branching out from LG and negotiating the anxiety and turmoil that result from building a new firm from the ground up, struggling with her grief in the wake of Will’s death, and essentially reducing her marriage with Peter to a political arrangement (and thus leaving him for all intents and purposes).  For any other show, any one of these plot lines would have been more than enough to suffice deepening characterization, but this is The Good Wife, network television’s best drama by a country mile, and Margulies keeps all of these plates spinning in the air without breaking a sweat.  And it’s the seeming naturalism of her performance, the apparent ease with which she delivers it, that demands Julianna Margulies garner yet another nod.  Like Bryan Cranston, Margulies uses each year of The Good Wife to turn in a slightly different performance because Alicia has developed into such a dynamic character who, with each passing season, further illuminates the ongoing irony of the show’s title.  And yet, my favorite aspect of her performance in season five has to be Alicia’s evolving understanding of how the law game works, culminating in her reaction to Diane asking if she’d always been so deceitful and cunning or if she learned to be: “I learned from the best,” she replies, words smooth as silk and lips curling into a wolf’s playful smile.  #GameSetMatch

The most prevalent criticism levied against Showtime’s Masters of Sex  is that Lizzy Caplan’s Virginia Johnson emerges virtually unscathed while the show never shies away from demonizing William Masters.  But this–I think–has more to do with Caplan’s riveting performance than a shortcoming or agenda on the part of the writers; it is her whole-hearted investment in the study of sexual response from a humanistic standpoint that clashes so clearly with Masters’s fixation on data.  She becomes the conduit through which we take in this world in all of its detail, and she shines brightest when revealing the double standards at play in the male-dominated medical field and the unavoidable irony of men dabbling very much in a woman’s world without involving any women.  Sound familiar?  That Caplan can take this famous historical figure and somehow turn her into a metaphor for the modern woman becomes her most impressive feat of acting in a season of television filled with standout moments.

 

Well, that about wraps up our forays into the dramatic acting categories!  Stay tuned for our final Dream Emmy Ballot, the one you’ve no doubt been awaiting with bated breath: Outstanding Dramatic Series!  ‘Til next time!

Don’t get me wrong, I like  dramatic television series as much as the next guy, but hot damn did the six gentlemen below do some heavy lifting to earn their hard-earned spots.  From crystal meth kingpin to pioneering sex researcher, from philanthropic billionaire genius to clandestine Soviet spy, and from one messed up homicide detective to another slightly less messed up homicide detective, these guys  brought their A games.

When a lead performer really carries a show, his (or her) presence on it becomes a defining mark of that series’ identity.  Could you imagine any other living human being playing Breaking Bad‘s Walter White?  Or some other stringy-haired jamoke depicting True Detective‘s Rust Cohle?  Of course you can’t because I’m right.  But more than that, we correlate a show’s overall greatness with the singular greatness of the central performance anchoring that show, and that’s exactly what we have on display here.

Without further delay, here are the men most deserving of hearing their names called for Best Lead Actor in a Drama Series.

 

                                      

Bryan Cranston,                                                  Michael Emerson,

    Breaking Bad                                                       Person of Interest

 

                                     

Woody Harrelson,                                        Matthew McConaughey,

     True Detective                                                        True Detective

 

                                     

Matthew Rhys,                                                      Michael Sheen,

   The Americans                                                         Masters of Sex

 

Honorable Mentions: Kevin Spacey, House of Cards; Hugh Dancy, Hannibal; Jim Caviezel, Person of Interest

 

“Show your work…”

Matthew Rhys’s chameleonic turn as Phillip Jennings/Clark/long-haired hippy in FX’s phenomenal series The Americans positively scintillates.  In addition to the physical presence he brings to a scene–whether engaged in a fire-fight or approaching an asset–Rhys does a masterful job depicting the emotional tole his career as a Soviet spy living in America has taken on him.  Feeling trapped between two worlds, Rhys can take his character from calm, supportive father to a terrifying rage monster (note to self: don’t mention church around him, right Paige?) sometimes within a single scene.  While his precise handle on the range of emotions that might define a spy’s life impresses, it’s something far more subtle that makes his performance so miraculous:  even when he must adopt a disguise and persona in order to complete a mission, there still lurks the uncertainty and ambivalence that typifies Phillip’s emotional struggle.  In order words, Rhys makes it very clear that it’s Phillip playing these other roles, not Rhys the actor.  I’m not sure how this insanely talented actor manages to pull that high-wire balancing act off, but it catapults his uniformly outstanding performance into the upper echelon.

Time is a flat circle, and no matter where you stand on its continuum, you will not find a more electric partnership anywhere on television than the one between Marty and Rust in HBO’s brilliant crime series True Detective.  With the McConnaisance heading into stage two, Matthew McConaughey seems all but guaranteed to win an Emmy for his work as Rust Cohle.  And trust me, the inevitable accolade is well-deserved–his performance is a revelation, imbuing his enigmatic character with shades of hubris, arrogance, sadness, weariness, hope and cynicism in equal doses.  I can’t remember the last time a character’s redemption has felt so authentic, earned, and profoundly moving as that which Rust found.  Plus, the man does a great parlor trick with beer can origami!  #YouAskMeTheMcConaugheysWinning Despite the superlatives we heap onto McConaughey, it it no way detracts from Woody Harrelson’s work as Marty.  As this dark and winding season progressed, Marty became more difficult to like and even more difficult to understand, as his self-destructive path ultimately destroyed the relationships closest to him.  Harrelson didn’t shy away from the depths of rage that motivated Marty, and when he cut loose, the results were truly explosive.  Need evidence?  The scene of him resorting to physical  violence against his daughter after she returns home from a promiscuous sexual escapade perfectly captures Marty’s impotent rage.  It’s a humdinger of a performance and a reminder that we couldn’t have Rust without Marty.  Do you think the Emmy could just call it a tie already?

Michael Sheen’s depiction of sex pioneer Dr. William Masters, in Showtime’s preciously titled Masters of Sex, is one of the most engaging feats of acting on television.  His William Masters becomes a man of repressed urges, soaring ego, and insufferable arrogance, and Sheen does little to temper those uglier sides of his personality because he understands that they also illuminate the uncompromising depth of his genius.  Sheen, however, also allows us the occasional glimpses beneath his veneer of self-righteous pomposity; his “research-based” relationship with Virginia Johnson reveals a tenderness and vulnerability that Masters has snuffed out of his own bloodless marriage.  Sheen can accomplish a great deal with a contemptuous look or a truncated cry of “Virg–Jane!” to convey precisely what motivates Masters, and this gift–more than the words on the page–forces us to root for a man he doesn’t try to get us to like, simply to understand.

Michael Emerson’s Harold Finch, a reclusive billionaire with a helluva Machine, gives the world of Person of Interest its much-needed moral compass.  Beset on all sides by those who seek to use the Machine to satiate the most morally corrupt facets of human nature, Harold remains the devoted philanthropist undeterred by the likes of Decima Technologies and Samaritan.  You might argue that such single-mindedness would create a character (and performance) entirely myopic, but to suggest that would undercut the simplistic depth of Emerson’s work.  Even when bound to his sense of moral duty, Finch finds new ways to surprise us, unlocks new possibilities for selflessness and sacrifice.  You see, Emerson embodies Finch with character details (the limp, the almost robotic voice, the tech savvy) that specify his character, and the more specific he becomes, the more universally symbolic he becomes of the need for self-actualized goodness in a world determined to wipe it out.  Great stuff.

Over the years, the Emmys have garnered a reputation for awarding the same winner for the same performance several years in a row, including the likes of The West Wing’s Allison Janey, The Sopranos‘ late and greatly missed James Gandolfini, and Frasier‘s David Hyde Pierce.  As much as I adore all three of them (and the other repeat winners, like Aaron Paul, not listed here), at a certain point enough is enough.  I mean, how different was, say, Pierce’s Niles Crane from one year to the next?  I’d hazard a guess and say not different at all.  What I’m trying to say here is that I’m not a huge fan of the repeat winner, okay?  I’m sorry I’m not sorry.  But then along comes Bryan Cranston, who manages to take Walter White through so many iterations, so many transformations, that he seems as if he does give an entirely new performance each year.  And this, Breaking Bad‘s final season, found Cranston digging deeper than ever before.  One of the best pieces of acting to ever grace stage or screen, Bryan Cranston deserves the right to repeat his Emmy glory and make me look like a hypocritical such-and-such.  I can take it.  You’re welcome, Mr. Cranston.

 

That’s the end.  Stay tuned next time for the penultimate Dream Emmy Ballot: Best Lead Actress in a Drama!

Not sure if you’ve heard the scuttlebutt, but there’s a heck of a lot of excellent television these days, and a great deal of it seems to flourish in the mystical land of drama.  Like my previous list of outstanding supporting actresses, I found this particular field of noteworthy gentlemen difficult to whittle down.  My first pass at this had a list of ten men who just had to make the final cut.   I know, I know #TVWatcherProblems.

But hey, before you climb up on your high horse and start pooh-poohing this arduous process, I’ll admit that having an overstuffed field from which to pluck possible nominees is a great problem to have.  We’re in the midst of TV’s Golden Age (forgive the dramatics, your honor), and the men listed below–not to mention the several other excellent performers that didn’t make the cut–all contribute to the preservation of that legacy.

Here we go, folks!  My dream Emmy ballot for Best Supporting Actor in a Drama Series!

 

                                         

Josh Charles,                                                                   Charles Dance,

The Good Wife                                                                 Game of Thrones      

 

                                         

Peter Dinklage,                                                                  Dean Norris,

Game of Thrones                                                                 Breaking Bad

 

                                         

Aaron Paul,                                                        Michael Kenneth Williams,

Breaking Bad                                                                 Boardwalk Empire

 

Honorable Mentions: Jeffrey Wright, Boardwalk Empire; Walton Goggins, Justified; Pedro Pascal, Game of Thrones; Michael Kelly, House of Cards; Noah Emmerich, The Americans

 

“Show your work…”

When it comes to Breaking Bad, Dean Norris’s Hank and Aaron Paul’s Jesse played significant roles in maximizing the already outstanding quality in the show’s final season.  Few scenes floored me as much as Walt confronting Hank in the Schrader family garage in the season opener, and that sequence’s excellence has as much to do with Norris as Cranston; the man radiated anger and betrayal from every pore of his body, but his eyes allowed us a peak beneath the blow-hard bravado and at the bruised ego and terrifying powerlessness lurking there.  Meanwhile, Jesse’s sense of obligation to Walt clashed with his morality in fascinating ways, and Paul played those reversals and counter-reversals brilliantly.  But Paul’s best work came in his depiction of Jesse’s downward spiral, as this young man found himself subjected to such physical and mental cruelty that reduced him to a dehumanized shell of his former self, culminating in his gut-wrenching reaction to the death of a truly innocent bystander.  Needless to say, Breaking Bad had a banner year–did it ever not have one during the course of its run?–so you might as well get used to hearing its name called repeatedly in the drama categories come Emmy night.  Consider this a glimpse into the future.

There’s this other show on television, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it.  It’s called Game of Thrones?  Oh, you have heard of it because you’re a human being currently residing on this planet called Earth.  Gotcha.  Anyway, in addition to showcasing wedding massacres, this show also features one of the most upsetting father-son relationships on television in Charles Dance’s Tywin Lannister and Peter Dinklage’s Tyrion Lannister.  Despite their names’ passing similarities to one another, the two men could not be further apart.  This season, it was King Joffrey’s death that drove a larger wedge between the two; when Tyrion becomes the lead suspect in the regicide, Tywin sees it as his opportunity to fulfill his longterm goal of removing the member of his family he views as tainting it.  Charles Dance is the epitome of icy resolve, while Peter Dinklage absolutely spellbinds during Tyrion’s trial; his rant, wherein he vows he did not kill Joffrey but wishes he had, saw our favorite Lannister fed up with his almost universal mistreatment and adopting the persona expected of him.  Oh, and the way Dinklage performed the season finale’s big climax?  Happy Father’s Day!

In many ways, season four of HBO’s overlooked Boardwalk Empire is all about Michael Kenneth Williams’ Chalky White.  As the episodes unfold, it becomes increasingly clear that this is–in some ways–the story of Chalky’s personal tragedy as much as it is the story of Nucky’s criminal ascent.  Certainly, Chalky encountered his fair share of tragedy on multiple fronts this year, none as gut-wrenching as the accidental murder of his daughter in front of him.  Is there any performer on this list who so seamlessly vacillates between menacing rage and tender vulnerability with the ease of Michael Kenneth Williams?  Maybe, but Williams takes these moments that most would tackle with Acting (with a capital A, of course) and uses them as an opportunity to showcase his quiet subtlety, and that’s a decision that deserves recognition.

As if Josh Charles hadn’t blown our minds with his desk-clearing meltdown in The Good Wife‘s game-changer “Hitting the Fan,” he had to go and take Will Gardner deeper down the rabbit hole in the episodes that followed.  Will’s bruised ego, his sense of betrayal, his fratboy pettiness–they all rose to the surface.  But even more impressive is Charles’s showcase episode, “The Decision Tree,” wherein this talented actor did so much with the shake of his head or a wry smile as memory flashes revealed the undercurrent of Will’s facade: his continued fascination with (and dare I say love for?) Alicia. It would have been so simple for Josh Charles to play this entire arc with the dramatics of “Hitting the Fan,” but he wisely dialed back, revealing a more contemplative side to Will so that–even when he actively worked against Alicia, as in the scramble to claim the ChumHum account–we couldn’t help but root for the guy.  Josh Charles has been so good for so long, and his work in this season of this excellent show seems as good a time as any to reward him for that.  Plus, Will’s dead so it’s now or never, right?  I say now.  #CharlesInCharge

 

That wraps up this go around of my Dream Emmy Ballot!  Until next time, whence we dive into Best Actor in a Drama Series!  Hold onto your hat!

Geez, ladies!  What’s with all the drama?  See what I did there?  #TVpuns

Listed below you’ll find a list of exceptional actresses whose performances absolutely enthralled.  Paring the field down to just six presented a (hyperbole warning) Herculean task, forcing me to trim great performances from the likes of Game of Thrones just to make way for some of the women you’ll see here.  And when Game of Thrones winds up on the cutting room floor, you know the competition is fierce.  For me, determining my dream ballot for this category was easy: which performances stuck with me after having moved me profoundly or shaking me to my core or, as is often the case, both at the same time?

Fun game: contrast the thumbnails below to those just recently posted to accommodate my picks for comedy categories.  From steely eyes to ugly cries, here we go!

 

                                           

Christine Baranski,                                                           Anna Gunn,

       The Good Wife                                                              Breaking Bad

 

                                             

Taraji P. Henson,                                                         Annet Mahendru,

 Person of Interest                                                             The Americans

 

                                            

Melissa McBride,                                                            Mae Whitman,

The Walking Dead                                                                 Parenthood

 

Honorable Mention: Lena Headey, Game of Thrones; Ivana Milicevic, Banshee; Sophie Turner, Game of Thrones; Erika Christenson, Parenthood

 

“Show your work…”

If you scoffed at my selection of The Walking Dead‘s Melissa McBride, then allow me to provide my five-word retort: “Look at the flowers, Lizzy.”  I mean, right?  McBride absolutely killed it (too soon?) in portraying the weight of the soul-crushing decision to euthanize Lizzy before she transformed into a full-blown psychopath.  I watched this scene, hands clapped to my slack-jawed mouth, in awe of her spellbinding performance: McBride wore Carol’s moral conflict on her face like a grotesque Halloween mask.  As a show, The Walking Dead can be frustratingly inconsistent, but that in no way diminishes the wallop Melissa McBride packs in the all-time great episode “The Grove.”  A stunner.

A thousand times da, Nina Sergeevna!  I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen any performer–actor or actress–pull off the kind of high-wire balancing act required of Annet Mahendru on FX’s brilliant series The Americans.  Mahendru manages a mind-boggling paradox: Nina is both one hundred percent sympathetic and one hundred percent untrustworthy.  Perhaps it has to do with the woman’s gorgeous face, which emotes so completely that we feel her feeling the burden of her betrayal as a double agent.  I hope with every fiber of my being that Nina’s walk down the stairs at the end of season two did not serve as her permanent exit from the show because The Americans–for all its strengths, which are myriad–must credit this outstanding actress as a major contributor to its overall success.

Look, Mae Whitman.  We need to talk.  Can you do me a huge favor and not rip my still-beating heart out of my chest every time you’re on screen?  Thanks, Mae!  That would be just darling of you.  Seriously, a mere quiver of the lip is enough to send me into paroxysms of despair.  If you’ve read this blog before, then you know I hold a very soft spot in my heart for NBC’s Parenthood; the cast is excellent, the writing spot-on.  I could single out any one of the talented performers from this showcase of a series, but Amber’s doomed relationship with Ryan was one of the best things this show has done, and that has a great deal to do with Mae Whitman (and Matt Lauria, but he ain’t no lady, so back off!).  Even better?  This arc forced Amber to reconnect with her deadbeat dad Seth, which always forces me to feel every single feel.  #MaeMayWin Let’s get that trending!

Speaking of the ugly cry, was there anything more gut-wrenching than Skyler White’s mid-street collapse in Breaking Bad‘s best episode, “Ozymandias?”  Truly intense stuff, and that’s to say nothing of the minutes preceding her futile sprint down the street.  Geesh, Anna Gunn, you’ve already won an Emmy for your excellent portrayal of Mrs. Walter White.  Can you leave some for the rest of us?  I know fans loved to hate on Skyler throughout the course of the show’s run, but I found Gunn consistently compelling in the role and never more affecting than in the series’ final stretch of episodes.

Person of Interest very confidently strode to the head of the network drama class this season, and Ms. Taraji P. Henson helped it get there.  Jos Carter’s multi-season struggle with the nefarious HR reached its brutal climax halfway through the third season, though Carter’s  victory came at a steep cost.  Along the way, Henson elevated what could have amounted to little more than a stock character into a multi-faceted, complex woman whose belief in justice motivated many of her decisions and actions.  Embodying the show’s heart, Henson proved Person of Interest anything but a flash-in-the-pan science fiction show.  For that alone, her nomination would be very well-deserved–unfortunately, I’m not counting on the Emmy machine picking Henson’s number this time around.

On a television show full of bad-ass women, Christine Baranski’s Diane Lockhart still manages to stand out from the pack.  The Good Wife reinvented itself this season, and Diane found herself at the epicenter of these narrative shifts.  Baranski’s refusal to rely on obvious histrionics as Diane leaned over the body of her fallen friend is indicative of the subtlety and restraint she brings to the role without sacrificing palpable pathos.  Yet somehow, Baranski’s best work came after her partner’s death, whether grappling with her grief or butting heads with the circling sharks of fellow partners.  But, for me, Diane’s reconnection with Alicia and her gradual separation from the firm she helped build really carried this performance.  Where this character ended up–knocking on the door of Alicia’s firm–might have been inevitable, but the journey Baranski took us on with her her character to arrive there felt like an acting masterclass.

 

That’s the end!  Next time, let’s see what the supporting gentlemen are doing in their respective dramatic roles, shall we?  Looking forward to it!

Look, comedy is incredibly subjective.  What I find gut-bustingly hilarious might elicit little more than the wryest of smiles from you, so–of all the categories so far–this one seems the most subjective.  Even if you don’t find, say, Louie to be your proverbial cup of tea, I doubt very much you could deny the craftsmanship of the performances and writing, but when it comes to the selection of the Best Comedy Series, such a title seems synonymous with Funniest Comedy Series.  And so this crazy little wheel of subjectivity keeps spinning ’round.  Like a record, baby.  Right round round round. #MixingMetaphors #80s

Taking all of that into account, here they are, the comedy series that I consider most worthy of nominations.  Let the debate over the true nature of comedy commence!

 

                                           

                  Enlisted                                                                                Louie

 

                                          

     Orange is the New Black                                          Parks and Recreation

 

                                          

              Silicon Valley                                                                          Veep

Honorable Mentions: Shameless; The Mindy Project; Family Tree; Derek; Hello Ladies; Brooklyn Nine-Nine; Nurse Jackie

 

“Show your work…”

Enlisted, likely, caused you to furrow your brow when you spotted it on my list, so let’s start there.  It’s a ridiculous show, one that can feature a loving homage to Donkey Kong or a heart-stopping escape from a field of porta potties, an ever-escalating prank war or an obsession with Lori Loughlin.  But reveling in the ludicrousness of life at Fort McGee becomes the point of the series: it tackles Army-related drama, such as Sgt. Pete Hill’s PTSD and palpable survivor’s guilt, without sacrificing its own brand of humor.  Very assuredly and slyly, this became a comedy series about the process of overcoming trauma and the need to reinvent oneself in the wake of it, but it’s also a show about the bond of brotherhood in its myriad forms.  The principle cast (Geoff Stults, Chris Lowell, Keith David, Angelique Cabral, and Parker Young) clicks perfectly and gets great back up from those making up the ragtag squad Pete leads.  Unfortunately, Fox mishandled the scheduling of this excellent show, leading to its cancellation, so a surprise nod for Best Comedy Series might assuage the sting a bit and give those Fox execs a moment of pause.  Wouldn’t that be nice?

I’ve written about Louie on here before, so I’ll keep it brief.  There’s never been a show like this before; I doubt we’ll see one as good as it for a very long time.  No other series imbues its consistently disarming comedy with such insight, wit, heart, and sadness; even more miraculous, sometimes the show dispenses with comedy altogether and aims to present a dramatic story instead.  Simply put, this is wondrous television at its most surprising and satisfying.

Netflix’s Orange is the New Black seems poised to claim the title of awards darling this year–and for good reason.  The predominantly female cast reveals its talent piece at a time as the season’s overall narrative structure zeroes in on a specific inmate (providing backstory and context) while also depicting Piper’s gradual unraveling.  Amidst so much quality storytelling, a few threads stand out: the show’s frank and moving depiction of how an inmate’s gender identity affects her family truly impresses, as does Larry (Jason Biggs) struggling to accept the way Piper’s choices have impacted his own sense of self.   If this doesn’t sound gut-bustingly hilarious, that’s because it isn’t, but that’s not to say moments of levity do not emerge.  So, while Orange certainly stands as the least laugh-out-loud comedy on this list, its achievement remains nonetheless staggering.

Parks and Recreation, network television’s best comedy by a considerable margin, stands alone, a true anomaly.  Often times, the shows that strike a chord with audiences come with a twinge of cynicism, as if–underneath the jokes–lives condescension; most times, these shows ask us to laugh at their characters, to judge them for their stupidity or closed-mindedness, their religiosity or social awkwardness.  But not Parks and Recreation.  If anything, this is a show about idealism and positivity in a world hellbent on squashing both.  Somehow, this show feels like a celebration of life, and it also happens to be hysterical.  See Ben Wyatt getting drunk on blueberry wine, Donna scolding her cousin Ginuwine, Andy (and Mouse Rat!) leading a Li’l Sebastian tribute song, Ron destroying a homemade chair for looking “too perfect,” Chris Tragger enacting a one-man dance party to the sultry sounds of “One Headlight,” and Michelle Obama stunning Leslie into silence.  And beneath the effervescent comedy lies a beating heart imbuing it all with a true warmth that’s as infectious as the characters and jokes.  Because as memorable as the comedy is on Parks and Recreation, those moments of friendship–pure, true friendship–ring truest, such as Ron’s pilgrimage to a whiskey distillery in “London.”  Long-lasting network comedies shouldn’t be this good, but Parks and Recreation certainly defies convention.

Silicon Valley‘s inaugural season might stand as a collection of the funniest  episodes HBO has ever aired.  Vacillating between sharp parody of the tech industry in desperate need of lampooning and bawdy humor (the epic dick joke that accounted for a considerable amount of the finale’s run time still has me laughing), Mike Judge’s show emerged as confident in itself as Richard is unconfident.  Anchored by a breakout turn from Thomas Middleditch and buoyed by the likes of TJ Miller, Christopher Evan Welch, Zach Woods, and Kumail Nanjiani, Silicon Valley proves what we already know: the best comedy is concentrated, playing to its strengths while also finding news ways to surprise its audience.  For eight brilliant episodes, Silicon Valley did just that and more.  Bring on season two, and remember: never trust coders in muscle tees.

No show on television (since perhaps another HBO staple, Deadwood) has relished in the poetic nature of profanity to such masterful effect as Veep.  From the outset, this series means to satirize American politics–and it does–but, really, it goes deeper, so what we have here is a show about the corrupting influence of power and the buffoons foolish enough to attempt to wield it.  And what’s more, in allowing the charade of politics to continue in the way Veep depicts them, we–the audience–become the butt of the grandest joke of all.  Julia Louis-Dreyfus kills it as Selina Meyer, but her staff of knuckleheaded idiots are suitable counterparts, from Matt Walsh’s Mike to Tony Hale’s Gary, from Anna Chlumsky’s Amy to Reid Scott’s Dan.  And let’s not forget–how could we?–Sufe Bradshaw’s stoic Sue, Gary Cole’s pandering Kent, Kevin Dunn’s curmudgeonly Ben, and founder of Ryantology himself: Timothy Simon’s Jonah.  Excellent cast, excellent writing, biting satire, and Shakespearean bawdiness coalesce to create truly original comedy.

 

That’s it on my end!  Feel free now to decry my limited comprehension of what does and does not qualify as funny.  Don’t worry, I won’t cry too much.  Until next time, when we dive into the swirling miasma of misery that is drama!  Bring some tissues, ‘cuz it’s ’bout to get…dramafied.  Had nothing.  Sorry.

So many hilarious performances on television, so little time!  I’m dubbing this category #YearoftheChris because two of my hopefuls are blessed with said first name, and that can’t just be happenstance, can it?  I didn’t think so either.

From a doctor to a single dad, from a would-be womanizer to an amateur genealogist, from a start-up’s CEO  to a nerdy city planner, below are–in my mind–the cream of the crop of television’s comedy actors.

Without further delay, here we go: my dream Emmy Ballot for Best Lead Actor in a Comedy Series!

 

                                   

Louis CK, Louie                                 Chris Messina, The Mindy Project

 

                                

Thomas Middleditch, Silicon Valley      Stephen Merchant, Hello, Ladies

 

                               

Chris O’Dowd, Family Tree              Adam Scott, Parks and Recreation

 

Honorable Mentions: H. Jon Benjamin, Archer; William H. Macy, Shameless; Ricky Gervais, Derek; Andy Samberg, Brooklyn Nine-Nine; Elijah Wood, Wilfred

 

“Show your work…”

The criminally underappreciated Family Tree was–pardon the impending pun–rooted firmly in the excellent performance by Chris O’Dowd.  Thanks to O’Dowd’s one-of-a-kind charm, Tom Chadwick became a man whose multi-continental journey became a symbol for his own self-discovery following a divorce.  O’Dowd tempered the show’s moments of outrageous quirkiness with ace reaction shots but could also deliver the funny himself: see his diatribe against an angry motorist for spouting off “mythical racism.”  I’ve resigned myself to the reality that O’Dowd will not receive the gift of a nomination, and that’s a true shame.

Speaking of requisite straight-men in the face of absurdity, is there a character better suited to the role than Adam Scott’s Ben Wyatt?  Mr. Leslie Knope has the difficult job of grounding some of the more ludicrous situations and characters (see Andy Dwyer), but he does so with such deadpan aplomb, he manages to elevate this standard role to something truly funny.  Scott knows just when to ramp up Ben’s childlike glee (or outrage) when it comes to his nerdy wheelhouse, whether that’s his reaction shot to Letters of Cleo reuniting for the Unity Concert or showing the boys how a real man plays Cones of Dunshire.  For me, Leslie Knope is the heart of Parks and Recreation, but thanks to Adam Scott, Ben Wyatt is its lungs, finding new ways to breathe new life into otherwise standard comedy tropes.

In years to come, doctoral candidates will be analyzing the unadulterated brilliance of FX’s Louie and the way it quietly and single-handedly altered our expectations of what a comedy series can accomplish, and none of that would be possible without CK’s titular performance.  Whether struggling with the modern realities of life as a single-father or delivering gut-busting stand up, Louis CK’s fearless performance can match the dauntless writing step for step.  It’s an incredible performance brimming with pathos, humor, and more than a pinch of sadness.

Thomas Middleditch is spectacular as the socially awkward but technologically brilliant Richard in HBO’s Silicon Valley.  His mannerisms and speech patterns give his character a fullness because Middleditch clearly has no interest in poking fun at Richard; rather, he wants to expose his quirks and idiosyncrasies as well as his genius. Great stuff.  Stephen Merchant, on the other hand, walks a fine line with Stuart Pritchard in Hello, Ladies.  At times, we need to fume at Stuart; other times, we pity him.  We laugh at him (how hilariously awkward was the scene of him trying to get out of the sports car in front of the club in the pilot episode?); we laugh with him.  That’s quite a bit to ask of an audience, but Merchant manages handily, creating a full portrait of a man trying too hard to find a connection when there’s one right under his nose.

Chris Messina has been great for what feels like forever, so it’s about time to laud this guy with the props he so richly deserves.  His Dr. Castellano is the most charming curmudgeon to grace our small screens in quite some time, and Messina did an excellent job dismantling Dr. C’s bravado a piece at a time over the course of the excellent second season to reveal the beating heart of a true romantic.  The Mindy Project enjoyed such phenomenal success this year in no small part due to Messina, whose electric chemistry with fellow dream-nominee Mindy Kaling virtually set our televisions on fire.  Oh, and the dude can dance apparently.

 

There we have it, ladies and gentlemen.  Tomorrow, stay tuned for the culmination of this first half of my Dream Emmy Ballot experiment: Best Comedy Series!  Until then, don’t forget to keep that mythical racism in check.  Leprechauns are people too!  #TheMoreYouKnow

If I had my druthers (and don’t we all wish to hold our druthers firmly in our grasps?), then this year would feature an unprecedented victory the likes of which the Emmys have never seen: a six-way tie!  Hurray!  Wouldn’t that be grand?  #WereAllWinners

Seriously, this is one tough category to judge with shows like Shameless and Orange is the New Black straddling the the line arbitrarily dividing drama and comedy.  But whichever way you slice it, the six women below deliver some of the best comedic performances on television–male or female.

Without further adieu, here we go!

 

                                    

Edie Falco, Nurse Jackie                       Mindy Kaling, The Mindy Project

 

                               

Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Veep                       Amy Poehler, Parks and Rec

 

                                  

Emmy Rossum, Shameless           Taylor Schilling, Orange is the New Black

 

Honorable Mentions: Martha Plimpton, Raising Hope; Kerry Godliman, Derek; Aisha Tyler, Archer

 

“Show your work…”

I’m going to flout convention on this one and toss the names of two repeat nominees/winners into the ring, though I usually detest the Emmys for doing just that.  Edie Falco should hear her name called for her turn as Jackie Peyton in Nurse Jackie, and Julia Louis-Dreyfus needs a nod for hers as VP/POTUS(!) Selina Meyer in HBO’s hilarious Veep.  Both deserve to keep their streaks of nominations alive, though for markedly different reasons: Falco has taken Jackie to some dark, manipulative places this year while Selina has soared to new heights of neurotic self-aggrandizement.  I’d be flummoxed if both of these exceptionally talented women don’t find their names on the ballot come July.

Meanwhile, Emmy Rossum and Taylor Schilling of the “comedies” Shameless and Orange is the New Black deserve to hear their names called.  Schilling transformed Piper from a cloyingly obnoxious and privileged women to a one beaten down by a system, stripped of her identity.  It’s a powerful performance; in the closing minutes of season one, you can feel the impotence and rage radiating off her as she unleashes her aggression on her erstwhile aggressor.  Great stuff.  Rossum’s Fiona Gallagher faced a similar downward trajectory this year, a path paved with infidelity, drug use, and negligence that ultimately landed her in prison.  But what made Rossum so compelling this year was that, for each frustrating misstep Fiona took (and they were myriad), she still managed to retain her character’s pathos.  We couldn’t help but feel that Fiona, like Piper, has been crushed by her circumstances and therefore overwhelmed and out of her depth in the face of even marginal success.  Sounds hilarious, doesn’t it?  Oh wait a minute, it’s actually a soul-crushing performance beautifully depicted!  I always get those two confused. #EmmyforEmmy Yup, that happened.

Mindy Kaling and Amy Poehler might serve as the centerpieces to the two most “traditional” sitcoms on this list–not that there’s anything remotely pedestrian about these two fantastic, original network comedies–but that in no way diminishes the quality of their performances on The Mindy Project and Parks and Recreation.  Both actresses are considerably adroit at jumping from drama to comedy. Kaling mastered it over the duration of season two’s arc that ultimately landed Dr. L in the arms of Dr. C.  The scene where she breaks up with Dr. C (the first time) could have been welcomed on the screen of any major drama, but Kaling can also crack us up as we watch her collapse into an exhausted heap at the top of the Empire State Building after running up the stairs to the man of her dreams.  Amy Poehler captures every glimmer of Leslie Knope’s optimism and every note of idealistic resolve, but Leslie had some trying times this season: first, the departure of new mom/beautiful land mermaid/best friend Anne Perkins, next the bitter disappointment of her removal from office, and finally, the ongoing decision whether or not to take a federal dream job that will force her to leave Pawnee in her rearview.  What’s most impressive about these two performances is that they leave us longing for more.  What’s next for Leslie after that unexpected time jump?  Will Dr. L maneuver a romantic life with Dr. C?  Stellar performances both in dire need of some recognition.

 

Well that about does it!  Until next time, friends, when I’ll present my dream ballot for Lead Actor in a Comedy Series!