The best show on television started it's fourth season last Wednesday and most of you weren't watching. What the hell?
I know. I know.
Denis Leary provides very little gray area. People seem to think he's either brilliant or a total assface. (For the record — I lean well to the former)
But, for the love of God, how can you keep yourself from at least trying a show that is harrowing, hilarious, heady and heartbreaking (sometimes all in the same scene.)
This is Denis Leary's high-water mark — or at least in a dead heat with No Cure For Cancer. As writer/actor of this highwire TV act (I'm going to break the record for descriptive H-words in a single blog) he delivers not only an emotional wallop but a tonic for the recent horrors visited on Irish-Americans who own television sets.
Who else was ready to call in air strikes after suffering through the likes of Madigan Men, Trinity and the goddamn Fighting Fitzgeralds?
Rescue Me has something for everybody.
Why, just in last week's episode alone — there was Tatum O'Neal passionately advocating for the marital importance of a porn stash. The woman's porn stash, no less. There were sexy doings in a Catholic church during Mass — and the participants were consenting adult parishioners. There was a spectacular explosion, firefighting heroics, pity sex, teen sex, gay marriage, substantial weight loss, true love, vomiting, domestic squabbling and at least eight genuine belly laughs.
Watch this show. You're worth it.
No comments:
Post a Comment