Pop Vultures

Mea Culpa, Etc.

2009-07-18T07:56:36Z

Right, here’s the deal. I have tried, people. I have tried to keep this blog going, but the simple fact is that I haven’t had the brainpower required to run this site since I stepped into my first class way back in September. Apparently, I have a limited capacity to think and write about film and television, and I’ve been using the whole of that capacity to write really pompous essays on the fractured voice in multi-strand narratives. Trust me, that is not an essay I should ever post.

I don’t know what’s going to happen to Pop Vultures. Sure, it’s been in a coma for the better part of a year, but I’m still not ready to pull the plug for good. I do know that, in six weeks, I hand in my dissertation and will either a) learn what kind of job a masters in Film & TV Studies actually qualifies me for or b) move into my mother’s basement and spend my days mastering Rock Band while telling anyone who will listen that the economy was just fine when I decided to quit my job to go back to school. At least, in one of those scenarios, I’ll still have time to write.

Back when I was still optiistic/deluded enough to believe that I’d have an active site by summer, I bought a four-day ComiCon pass and cashed in a bunch of frequent flier miles, so next week I’ll be in San Diego. I won’t even pretend that I’ll be posting regularly, but I will make a genuine effort to write a post summarizing the experience. The magic of Wi-Fi means I will likely be tweeting the whole thing, too, so you should follow me @marciaish if you are interested in my vaguely misanthropic and fear-inspired convention ramblings.

And, sometime in September, I will make a real, serious, no-I-mean-it-this-time decision about what to do with Pop Vultures. See you then.

2009 Eurovision Liveblog

2009-05-16T22:14:37Z

Yes, I know I’m a wee bit rubbish, making all these promises I can’t keep about posting regularly again, and then…not doing it. Blame my dissertation. You could blame me, I suppose, but since I blame my dissertation for everything, it’s easier to just cut out the middleman.

However, consider this my version of standing on your doorstep with puppy dog eyes and a dozen red roses, begging your forgiveness and promising that this time, baby, I’m back for good. And even if I’m still a lying cow, at least, for this one night only, I can offer you the sweet, sweet loving of Eurovision. You know you want it.

So join me here tonight to comment on the highs, the lows, the music and the mayhem. And, really, it’s all about the outfits, anyway.

7:20. I’ve got thirty minutes to refresh my memory on the spelling of the former Soviet republics. Do you think that, 20 years on, we still refer to them as the “former Soviet republics” simply because that’s easier to spell?

7:55. Terry Wogan advised Graham Norton to wait until the 5th act before he started drinking. I do not intend to follow that advice.

8:00. I’ve just been informed that I can “sing-along” via the red button on Freeview. That would be the campest karaoke in the world, and yet of course I push the button. I must know the lyrics.

8:02. Graham Norton assures us that he misses Terry Wogan, too. So long as Graham can refrain from pointing out the relative attractiveness of each female performer, I won’t miss Terry at all.

8:04. Isn’t kicking off with the Cirque du Soleil a bit misleading? It implies such things as talent, skill and class, three things I never expect to see in my Eurovision.

8:11. First costume atrocity! Our host is wearing the product of an unholy love affair between an ostrich and a bowl of orange sherbet.

8:14. Lithuania kick things off with “Sasha Son”. It is an utterly inoffensive and forgettable ballad. Worse, they are all dressed in tasteful black and white. I protest. However, the entire stage seems to be made of flying CGI piano keys, so at least they didn’t totally favor subtlety. And he just lit his hand on fire, which clearly shows dedication to his art.

8:17. Israel are up with “There Must Be Another Way”. This song features two women who apparently got lost on their way to the local goth club, considering the black lace and corset outfits. They do have pretty voices, though.

8:22. France are up! Hurrah! You can always count on the French to bring something truly ridiculous to Eurovision. And yet…this woman is wearing a basic black dress and standing still on a nearly empty stage. Where are the dancing sheepherders and the pantaloons made of licorice? This is not the Eurovision I am proud to know and mock. The song is…oh, who cares.

8:25. Sweden’s turn, and Graham Norton describes it as “popera” and tells us the dress cost €30,000 Euros. I feel a bit more optimistic, a feeling that remains once it actually starts. It’s proper disco. The woman doesn’t have half the voice required to pull it off, and I’m pretty sure that the natural Swedish skin tone isn’t neon orange, but I don’t care. The backup singers have glitter masks, and I’m easily pleased. The song pretty much sucks, though.

8:29. Croatia’s lead singer is attempting to eye-fuck the camera, and standing in a pose that suggests he derives his singing power from his groin. The back up singers are doing a lot more swaying than actual singing, the better to display the flimsiness of their many layers. The overall effect is of a romance novel cover come to life. I’ve already forgotten what the song sounds like. However, I usually like the insane pop numbers, complete with knitting goatherders, so don’t assume I’m predicting any winners tonight.

8:33. Portugal are kind of awesome. They’re wearing what I presume to be a variation on their national costume, and the set is a drug-inspired psychedelia of technicolor rainbows, clouds and puppy dogs. Plus, the song is actually quite catchy! I have a favorite, for the moment.

8:37. Graham introduces Iceland as being a “real contender”. Unlike Sweden, the singer does not terrify me, and the song has that theatrical ballad thing that Eurovision so favors. Plus, her dress contains ruffles, feathers, rhinestones AND what appears to be a Christmas ornament hanging from one sleeve, so you know I love it.

8:40. Greece earns my immediate love by appearing to be a 90s pop band, except way gayer. I’ll give you a moment to figure out how that could even be possible. The lead singer is prancing around in all white, with the shirt unbuttoned to his navel, and is dancing on a treadmill, leaping in the air, and making more theatrical gestures than you would see in the “Thriller” video. Truly, deeply awesome.

8:44. Armenia finally erases all my earlier doubts about the camp value of this year’s Eurovision, thank gawd. They appear to be six female villians from an 80s fantasy film. The song is slightly bouncy and actually rather fun. Have I gone soft? That’s four in a row I’ve sort of liked.

8:48. Russia is up with that terribly sincere Eurovision half ballad I can never get behind, though they always seems to win (except for such glorious, glorious moments as Lordi). It’s interchangeable with the other Eurovision half ballads, but it’ll get bunches of votes. It seems to be an ode to someone’s mother and features a crying older woman on the screen. As a song, I don’t care, though I appreciate the attempt at performance art. The lack of sequins, however, is disturbing.

8:52. Azerbaijan fortunately pick up the sparkle baton and run with it. The female singer is wearing the dress equivalent of a mullet. From the back, it’s an entirely respectable bridesmaid’s dress; from the front, it will make her gynecological exams much more efficient. She also appears to be wearing ONE gold lame stocking. The song is catchy, the look is insane. They’re a contender, for sure.

8:56. Bosnia & Herzegovina are so subdued and tasteful by comparison. Only Azerbaijan could make period military garb look subdued. They are very, very sincere and I’m sure there’s a deep meaning to the lyrics, if I could understand any of them.

9:00. Moldova is up, and I am temporarily distracted by the fact that I could not find Moldova on a map. The lead singer is wearing a peasant blouse, lime-green sequined mini-dress + corset, and purple knee high boots, so it’s clearly on the continent of AWESOME. Her backup singers are impressively limber and energetic. The song has absolutely no chance of winning, and Graham clearly agrees, calling it “special.” His tone suggests the short bus version of special.

9:06. Has it really only been an hour? Malta are up now, and it’s another one of those classic numbers in which a woman in a black dress stands in front of a microphone and sings with exuberant hand gestures. Next.

9:08. Estonia’s song is surprisingly pretty. It features a lot of strings set to a dance beat. However, Graham has already informed us that no winner has ever worn a completely blue dress, as they all are, so I must consider that a handicap. I still like them, even if their use of sequins is almost tasteful.

9:14. Denmark is going for the 90s “boy band that thinks it’s a rock band but is really a boy band” look and sound. Also, the lead singer spends the entire time in a John Wayne inspired bow-legged crouch. They do, however, end with pyrotechnics, which gives them one point from me. Just the one, however.

9:17. I have no idea why Oscar de La Hoya is singing for Germany, while wearing skintight glitter silver pants. That is what Graham said, right? I’m not hallucinating from sequin overload, am I? And that’s…Dita von Teese? Okay, Oscar, if that’s who he is, just opened his shirt and is writhing next to Dita. The pure amount of hot flesh on display right now means I have no chance of judging the song fairly. I’m sure it’s awful, but I might have to rewind that last part to be sure.

9:21. Turkey’s version of Shakira is giving it her all. I’m so happy to see a naked, non-size 0 belly on my TV that I’m immediately predisposed to like them. Plus, the song has a good beat and you can dance to it. I’m okay with this song.

9:26. Albania! Oh, Albania! You had me at the backup dancer wearing all teal and sequins, including his bellbottoms and full face mask. And then, just in case that wasn’t enough, you give me two more dancers in clown makeup. Who even cares what the song sounds like?

9:29. Norway’s set features a projection of a small village and a gigantic moon, the dancers appear to be doing pushups as part of their routine, and the lead singer is grinning with such smarmy enthusiasm that you want to stick him in front of CNN disaster coverage until he cries. The song, however, is catchy.

9:33. Okay, forget everything I have said up till now. The Ukraine MUST win. They have: gladiator backup dancers, Marie Antoinette-esque figures that appear to do nothing but stand there, sequined knee-high boots on the lead singer, and spinning circular set pieces. And the lead singer just played drums while the gladiators dragged her about! No one can possibly top that tonight. Gladiators!

9:36. Romania is fighting back with the power of girlflesh. A fair amount of boobs and legs are on display right now, but if it’s not in a gladiator costume, I just can’t be bothered to feel it. It’s a pretty straight forward pop song, all things considered.

9:40. The UK is up now, with Andrew Lloyd Webber playing on a song he wrote. The UK is actually taking it seriously this year. I have no idea why. The song sounds like a Disney ballad, both in melody and lyrics. It’s her time, her moment, blah blah. It’s my moment to refill my glass. I think it might actually get a fair number of votes. It shouldn’t.

9:44. It’s Finland now, also known as the Land of Lordi to the Eurovision afficianado. This band…is no Lordi. Imagine if Donnie from New Kids on the Block crashed a group of slutty bridesmaids singing karaoke at a wedding. Also, there are shirtless, shrug-wearing men twirling fiery batons near burning oil barrels. None of the pieces seem to belong together. It’s the Dadaist version of a stage show.

9:48. Just Spain to go now. They give a fairly straight-forward performance, exhorting us to take it and shake it. It’s your fairly standard song and dance number until, boom! — magic! No, really, the backup dancers held a drape in front of the singer until she disappeared…only to reappear three feet away a moment later. I think she just crawled over there. They look like they had fun, which is good, since they have no chance of winning.

9:52. Now, it’s just time to vote. I vote for more tequila, after which I will actually read through what I’ve written and correct the myriad typos. Well, at least the ones I can see through the tequila. While we wait to see who gets the votes, weigh in below with your personal favorite.

10:20. It’s time to report the votes, also known as the point of the evening when tipsy journalists from across Europe deliver the results while pretending that they’re not completely biased based on geographic location. “Report the votes” is much faster to say, however.

10:24. Norway is running away with it. Sadly, the Ukraine isn’t even in contention. Apparently, the rest of Europe does not rely on the same gladiator-based criteria that I use.

10:35. Just before the break, Turkey makes a sudden surge, though it’ll take a Eurovision miracle to overcome Norway at this point.

10:55. And Norway just broke the Eurovision record for vote-getting. It’s safe to say that it’s over. If I was smart, I’d turn the TV off before the reprise, saving myself the inevitable earworm. I’m not, though.

11:11. Norway is officially the winner. If you’re not in Europe, I strongly suggest you don’t look for the song on YouTube, unless you want to spend the next three days singing, “I’m in looooooove with a fairy tale, even though it hurts.” It’s too late for me, sadly.

Playing With The Dollhouse

2009-04-13T19:44:50Z

My, but there is a lot to talk about. I suppose that happens when one takes an unplanned six-month hiatus from television blogging. Still, most of the stuff worth talking about seems to have happened in the last few weeks. A surprising number of mid-season shows have appeared, some of which are actually – shocker – watchable. This is a rather nice change of pace, considering that I found the fall shows so uniformly dull and predictable that I had absolutely nothing to say about them (it is so much easier it is to blame The Eleventh Hour than my own time management skills). This week, I’ll be taking a look at the new shows and deciding which ones are worth watching. I’ll also be donning my sci-fi geek hat to have a look at the returning Doctor Who and Red Dwarf episodes, while Samantha has a few words to say about the latest onslaught of procedural drama.

First, though, let’s get to the show I know you want to talk about. That’s right, let’s talk Dollhouse (because, if there is one thing I assume about my fellow vultures, it’s that you are all Whedon’s bitches just as much as I am. At times, it may be the basis for our entire relationship). Now, to be fair, Dollhouse premiered back in January, but I’m glad I waited to review the show, which has had an even slower start than previous Whedon shows. The man sometimes takes a while to get warmed up, and Dollhouse is no exception. (Don’t believe me? Go watch “I Robot, You Jane” from season 1 of Buffy or even “Heart of Gold” from Firefly. “Erratic” is a kind description for the first seasons of Whedon’s shows).

Now, I’m going to admit that I’ve enjoyed the show from the start, despite its flaws. Maybe this is because I enjoyed seeing a new sci-fi mythology constructed, or because I have blind faith in Whedon and trust that my dedication will pay off. Maybe it’s because I usually watched it on Saturday morning while still a little bleary from the night before. Whatever the case, I have consistently enjoyed it – with reservations. At times, Dollhouse has been a difficult show to love.

Dollhouse episodes are built around the A-plot in which one or more of the doll characters are imprinted with a personality and sent off to have some sort of adventure. These adventures have, almost without exception, sucked. There are many reasons for this degree of suckage. First of all, the majority of the dolls’ assignments are sexual fantasies for rich, privileged clients, which basically makes them high tech whores and raises all sorts of icky questions about consent. It also ensures that Echo, the lead doll (played by Eliza Dushku) is little more than Fantasy Date Barbie, dressed up in a series of scanty outfits that serve mainly to show how hot Dushku is. I mean, at one point the woman chose to wear high-heeled boots while trying to escape a situation on foot. This character is not making fashion choices based on their practicality. And, you know, I’m glad that Dushku is doing her yoga and staying healthy and all, but I’ve got a problem with the constant need to remind us of how fit she is. Remember when Whedon had awesome, kickass female leads that didn’t need close-ups of their ass to establish their character? Seriously, Buffy and Zoe would eat Echo for breakfast.

These adventures also suck because the audience has little reason to care about the temporary role the dolls take on each episode. One week Echo may be a hostage negotiator, but there’s no reason to get involved with the character when she’ll be a master thief next week. Also, since these characters are one-offs meant to interact normally with the outside world, they never get a chance to develop the classic Whedon wit, a humor often based on outsiders trying to make sense of their bizarre world. And really, a Whedon show without jokes makes the baby Jesus cry.

Few of the actors on the show are gifted enough to believably slip in and out of new characters each week (the exception to this is Enver Gjokaj, who plays Victor and whose easy transition between characters makes him, for me, the true standout of the show). They’re fine – no one is embarrassing themselves — but not good enough for this to be the selling point of the show.

That’s the bad news. The good news is that Joss & Co seem to be focusing on a better selling point: the Dollhouse itself. What started as a slow-building B-plot has steadily become the focus of the series, which is excellent news. This is where the show is actually, you know, good. The recurring characters are allowed to be morally complex (in some cases, such as DeWitt, they are so morally grey that they might actually be statues. That moved and spoke and, okay, that metaphor got away from me). They get to develop personalities and, thank Joss, a sense of humor. They are consistent across multiple episodes, which actually gives me some room to care about these characters in a way that I can’t care about the dolls. When you’re more interested in the morally bankrupt high-tech pimps than their supposed victims, you know you’re watching a Whedon show. Dushku may be the star, but I tune in each week to find out what Boyd, Adelle and Topher get up to. And to see if Tahmoh Penikett takes his shirt off. Hey, we all find our own hangover cures.

The creation of a mythology provides a richness to the series and a layer of meaning absent in the adventure-of-the-week episodes. It also gives the show room to explore some of those prickly moral questions of consent and power. This is the sort of thing I expect from Whedon – not some sci-fi Charlie’s Angels, but a study of desire and need and what, exactly, makes us human. Perhaps I truly am too blinded by the Whedon love to see otherwise, but I think the show is finally getting away from the former and settling into the groove of the latter. I’m hopeful that the show evolves significantly over the next few episodes and continues to move beyond the plaything plotlines. Joss has proven in his previous series that he’s willing to shake things up, and maybe the future of Dollhouse won’t be about the dolls at all.

Of course, the show’s ratings have been in the gutter, and there’s a very good chance that we won’t get to see a second season. After all, this is FOX, the network that consistently places all sci-fi shows on Friday nights in order to watch them fail. (Really, if doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result is a sign of insanity, is FOX the first certifiable network?) Word has yet to come from on high as to whether there will be a pickup for next year, which is too bad because, despite the problems, this is a series that is really starting to prove that it deserves a second season.

What do you think? Have you been watching , and do you hope it gets a chance to stick around and play for a bit longer?

The Dog, The Heart, The Show

2009-04-07T13:51:38Z

I don’t care if it’s a week late. This moment had to be shared. Can you believe that you don’t watch this show?

Watch This Space

2009-04-07T13:32:44Z

I did not mean to go away. I certainly did not mean to disappear for such important events as the conclusion of Battlestar Galactica or Joss Whedon’s return to network television. I am horrified that I was not here to comment on such television moments as Grey’s Anatomy’s ghost sex or the dog that ate the transplant heart on One Tree Hill. (I still haven’t recovered from the former, honestly. There are times, when I am alone, that I look up from whatever I’m doing and say, “Ghost sex!” in a tone of absolute wonder.)

Posting to Pop Vultures became rather like that email you mean to send, but keep getting distracted from writing. And, the more time passed, the more silly it seems to send it and the more certain you become that the recipient really isn’t that interested in what you have to say anymore. Also, I was really, really busy working on a masters degree in Film & TV. In other words, I may be a procrastinator, but at least I’m an overqualified procrastinator.

I miss it, though, and I have missed it for quite a while. I still have a lot of work to do this summer, writing the dissertation that will actually earn me the degree, but I’m ready to finally write that damn email, metaphorically speaking. I may never get back to daily postings, but I think posting something is a nice place to start.

After all, the ghost sex demands it.

TV, TV: Where Did Our Love Go?

2008-11-03T11:34:20Z

My life has changed quite a bit in the last couple of months. I went from working in a respectable career, earning this remarkable thing called “money”, to being an impoverished student whose primary source of income was the weekly pub quiz.

That’s not the only change. Those who follow this blog might have noticed a change in the frequency of posting. A large part of that is due to the need to write things that actually pay when I have the chance, and between that and the vast amount of time spent consuming fine alcoholic beverages, I simply have less time to post. There’s another reason, though — another big, and very unwelcome change: I have less to say about television.

It doesn’t make sense. I’m doing a masters in Film & Television Studies, and as the only television-focused student in the group, I spend a lot of time defending the small screen. I talk about TV all the time. Surely, I should be able to transfer some of it to this page?

I still love TV, even though it’s trying very hard to push me away. These days, if TV was a lover, it would be staying out late and forgetting our anniversary on a regular basis. Instead of bringing me roses in the form of shows like The Wire, it is stopping at a convenience store on the way home to pick up a bunch of pink carnations in the form of Fringe and The Eleventh Hour. TV, I fear, is taking me for granted. It’s just stopped trying.

I still watch most of my old favorites, but today I tallied up all the shows I still watch, and it averaged out to fewer than two hours a day. TWO. Okay, yeah, that might be a bit much for the average sort, but I am no average TV viewer. I am a TV blogger. It is my sacred duty, imposed upon me by the gods of Wordpress and the Google search function, to watch as much TV as I can possibly get away with.

Maybe it was the strike. Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s the fact that the networks insist that my life will be better if I watch crap like Worst Week or The Ex List. Maybe it’s the long span of time before Battlestar Galactica and Lost start up again. Whatever it is, TV and I are in a slump. It just doesn’t excite me like it once did.

How are you and TV getting along these days? Are you still close, or has the spark gone out for the moment?

Tidbits for Monday

2008-11-03T11:03:09Z

Good news for Dexter fans, it’s been renewed for two more years, continuing Showtime’s dominance over HBO in the original series category. Who would have ever guessed that a show about a serial killer would last five seasons?

Speaking of HBO, they’ve picked up Curb Your Enthusiasm for yet another season. Fans of dry, ironic comedy are celebrating.

Joss Whedon clears up some of those rumors about who’s going to be living in the Dollhouse and what’s happening to its neighborhood. Our hopes are still high for this one.

Are you wondering how you can get a girlfriend in time for the holiday parties? Here’s Don Draper’s Guide to Picking Up Women. Follow Don’s lead and the women will be falling at your feet.

Road Tripping With The BBC

2008-10-23T13:03:51Z

I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but there’s this thing going on in America at the moment called a Presidential Election. It’s kind of a big deal, apparently. And in recognition of that fact, the BBC has busted out its big guns and sent two of its finest small-screen stars across the pond, to report back to the mother country about all the fuss going on in that uppity former colony of ours.

I am, of course, ecstatic about this, because one of these stars is Stephen Fry, otherwise known as the only man I would leave my fiancé for, if only he would ask. In Stephen Fry in America, Fry has spent several months travelling across the United States, in a London taxi of all things, and is stopping off in every state of the union in order to report on interesting and unusual things. So far these things have included lobster fishing off the coast of Maine, a meeting with the mafia gang who inspired The Godfather in New York, and a visit to a body farm in Tennessee (and if you don’t know what that is, I suggest you Google with caution).

I am so delighted that my beloved Stephen Fry is back on our screens, being his usual erudite and foppishly-charming self, that I hesitate to voice any complaint at all. But I must admit, this series is not as perfect as it could be, only because too much is crammed into every show. Yes, Fry does go to every state in the Union, but so rapidly that some are simply driven across and remarked upon in passing.

If only we could have a show for every state. I would happily watch Stephen Fry trying to fill an hour of television with interesting facts about Nebraska or Delaware. Let’s face it, if anybody could do it, it’s him. But, this is only a minor quibble, and mostly I find Stephen Fry in America utterly wonderful and delightful, and so will you.

Slightly higher up the didactic ladder, The American Future: A History is Simon Schama’s survey of the history of the United States as a cautionary tale. Or, in other words, everything that is happening now has happened before, and we could all learn a thing or two from it if we would only pay attention. The first episode looked at America’s wartime history, going all the way back to the conflicting perspectives of Jefferson and Hamilton to illustrate the ideological conflicts about the Iraq war that are now at the forefront of the presidential campaigns. It’s stirring and controversial stuff.

In the next episode, apparently, Schama is examining the history of religious pluralism in the United States. It’s all a lot less frivolous than Stephen Fry creating a new flavour of ice cream at the Ben and Jerry’s factory in Vermont, but it’s fascinating viewing nevertheless.

You can find further Stateside hi-jinks with my beloved Fry on BBC1, Sunday nights at 9pm. And if you also want to learn about the minutiae of American history and what it all means for today, you can catch Simon Schama on BBC2, Friday nights at 9pm. I have no doubt both these shows will also be coming to BBC America in no time at all.

Monday’s TV

2008-10-20T15:26:07Z

Monday’s top picks:

There’s something for everyone on Monday night. How I Met Your Mother still makes me laugh every week, which is something I never thought I’d say for a CBS comedy. CBS, 8:30

Chuck also still makes me laugh. So does Heroes, which follows it, though I’m pretty sure Chuck is the only one that’s intentionally funny. NBC, 8:00 and 9:00

For cheesy goodness, Gossip Girl’s second season has more than lived up to the promise of the first one. Chuck may be the greatest soap villain since Amanda Woodward first flexed her claws. CW, 8:00

Tidbits for Monday

2008-10-20T15:53:58Z

If you’ve been rewatching your Firefly box set in order to get your Nathan Fillion fix, Spike.com has got your back. PG Porn is a James Gunn short that features the majestically-armed one as a frisky, acting-impaired carpenter. Definitely worth a view.

Still bitter about Deadwood’s cancellation? Then here’s an item for your Christmas list. HBO is releasing a 19 disc set of the complete series — complete with an explanation of where the series would have gone if HBO had not cruelly yanked it off the air. Oh, Al. How I miss you.

Speaking of series we miss, Battlestar Galactica only has ten episodes left. Ten. That’s such a small number. The final episodes have a launch date. On January 16, we finally get to see what happens now that they’ve found Earth.

It’s good news/bad news for fans of sci-fi TV. The Sarah Connor Chronicles has been picked up for a full season, which is good news for those that are still watching. The bad news is that this might be because Whedon’s Dollhouse won’t be available as a mid-season replacement.