Q: What is the Best Show on TV?

A: The Office.

For the last three years, I have always kinda sorta believed that statement, but last night’s episode proved to me why it is unequivocally true. I might even go out on a limb and call it the best comedy on network television in the past twenty years (Now, before Seinfeld fans start sending me poison wedding invitations, allow me a chance to explain).

The reason why The Office is so great is that it employs, perhaps, the greatest ensemble cast in television history. Every single actor embodies their character on the show to the nth degree. A lot of time, it seems like The Office is unscripted, but that is just a testament to the tour de force performances given by the actors week in and week out.

Take last night’s episode where Dunder-Mifflin Scranton played a Southern murder mystery game to take their minds off of corporate’s impending declaration of bankruptcy. Each actor was forced to play their own character and a character in the murder mystery, while staying true to their original character (i.e. play the murder mystery game as their Dunder-Mifflin alter ego would). Confused? Imagine trying to prepare yourself for such a performance.

The physical comedy and character interplay is also a huge part of The Office magic. Last night’s episode was no exception. The opening where Dwight beats himself up was incredible. The use of southern accents by all characters with mixed results (Andy’s was great, Oscar’s hilariously terrible) and the final fake gun stand off with Michael, Andy and Dwight was terrifically absurd.

Historically, even the best shows have had weak links in their cast.

Jerry Seinfeld didn’t act on Seinfeld once in nine years. He was just playing himself. Watch old episodes in syndication: he moves through scenes with a bemused grin on his face, letting the other actors do all of the heavy lifting.

Cheers was great; Ted Danson as Sam Malone was not. Yes, he played a great character but there was no depth in the performance. He was a playboy womanizer who never faced any real adversity.

Arrested Development had a cast that rivals The Office but it lacked popular support because of its writing. AD was too smart for its own good and the majority of the television viewing population are morons. The Office skates a thin line between shrewd and lowest common denominator comedy, which is why it is so successful. There’s something for everyone.

It also does romance very well, which brings in even more viewers (i.e. women). The Office has managed to make the Jim/Pam relationship fit in seamlessly with the show’s sensibilities. The best example of this was the wedding procession from a few weeks. It was equal parts pop culture reference, ridiculousness, genuinely funny and sweet, all packaged around the requisite Jim/Pam “Ahhh” moment.

That four minute clip is The Office in a nutshell and is proof of its greatness.

Hit Me with Your Best (Head) Shot

Once again, the hockey cognoscenti is bending to the will of the public and they are promising to do due diligence in eradicating head shots from the game. The public uproar stems from the serious skull and facial injuries suffered by OHL player Ben Fanelli in a ferocious hit two weeks ago.

The entire situation is eerily similar to all of the hot air blown by NHL general managers about cracking down on fighting after a senior player died when he hit his head on the ice in a fight. I covered the topic of fighting in hockey back in March. They said all the right things but has anything really changed? Of course not. Staged fights between two lunkheads with zero hockey skill still occur on a nightly basis.

However, something needs to be done about head shots as NHL players have been dropping like flies with concussions in this fledgling season. The safety of players is paramount, along with their intelligence. Concussions have been proven to have adverse effects on mental acuity and, let’s be honest, hockey players can’t afford to be any dumber.

The hit on 16 year old Ben Fanelli by over-ager Michael Liambis was brutally vicious, but it was also clean. Liambis never left his feet, he hit Fanelli with his shoulder and he didn’t the kid from behind. Unfortunately, Fanelli turned his back as the last second to make a pass, which caused his face to rocket into the glass when he was walloped by Liambis’ bulk.

Should Liambis have been suspended for the rest of the year? Absolutely not. But, OHL commissioner David Branch had to take a strong stance to show parents he is committed to keeping their kids in Canada’s top junior league.

In my opinion, the Fanelli incident could have been avoided, but not in the way Branch thinks. Have you seen the press pictures of Liambis and Fanelli? Liambis looks like a 20 year old man; Fanelli doesn’t look like he can grow facial hair yet.

That’s the biggest safety issue in junior hockey: having boys as young as fifteen face off against men five years older. The differences in strength, power and testosterone production at those ages is astounding.

Teenage boys can’t compete physically with twenty year olds. It’s physiologically impossible. And it’s also why I beat up high school kids on weekends. It makes me feel like a big shot.

To fix the problem in the NHL, forget about making the game less violent. To quote my buddy Brian Burke, “this isn’t ringette.” I think you have to look at the equipment. Players are ensconced in heavy duty plastic from head to toe: it offers too much protection. Guys race around the ice throwing their bodies at opponents with reckless abandon. Not to mention today’s players are so big and fast – it’s a recipe for disaster.

If you soften the equipment (especially shoulder pads), players will think twice about turning themselves into human battering rams. Less vicious hits, fewer concussions, safer playing conditions, better hockey.

Voila.

MJ Reincarnated as Disgraced, Former Slugger?

(Note: I don’t really find Kristen Stewart all that attractive and I think the Twilight saga is unbelievably boring and stupid, but I needed a picture of a pale actress to fit in with today’s column motif and she’s the only one I could think of)

It didn’t take Michael Jackson long to embrace his inner Elvis and make appearances from beyond the grave in an attempt to stay socially relevant and to make the list of top earning dead celebrities.

While Elvis sticks to backwater outposts in rural Mississippi taking the form of old, random fat guys, MJ has stepped it up a notch by inhabiting the body of former Chicago Cubs home run king Sammy Sosa.

Have you seen the picture of Sosa circulating on the internet? My God, it’s absolutely terrifying. He looks like Powder. I would have included the picture here but in case anyone under the age of thirteen reads this I chose not to post it lest the photo haunt their dreams.

Apparently, he is not suffering from the same “I hate being black” disease which inflicted the King of Pop. Instead, he is undergoing an elective rejuvenating, cleansing process that is usually the bailiwick of rich, vain women.

Yeah, that’s much more normal.

I need some more information on this rejuvenation process. Do they just dip your body in paint thinner? Do they scrape layer upon layer of skin off with a cheese grater? It all sounds like some torture device devised by Jigsaw from Saw fame.

I love that Sosa is trying to downplay his freakish appearance by saying that his “whiteness” is due to the lighting in the photo. Umm, I don’t think so, Sammy.

I’ve never seen a picture of Denzel Washington taken under harsh lighting conditions that makes him look like Tom Hanks. Sosa looks like a character out of an old Dave Chapelle sketch.

This entire situation pretty much solidifies the assumption that Sosa was on extreme doses of steroids during his assault on the home run record book in the late 1990s. I’m fairly confident anyone willing to play both sides of the Paul McCartney/Stevie Wonder classic Ebony and Ivory would have no qualms about ingesting truckloads of performance enhancers.

Here’s a question: since Sosa was black when he forgot how to speak English when questioned about steroid use by Congress, does this mean he would forget how to speak Spanish when asked about this cleansing process now that he’s whiter than Wonderbread?

Unforgivable Oversight

I had originally planned on making Monday’s posts all about the NFL. Today, I wanted to discuss the respective greatness of the two remaining undefeated teams, the Indianapolis Colts and New Orleans Saints. I pictured a faux Super Bowl preview of the two juggernauts while discussing their contrasting styles: the Saints’ razzle dazzle offensive explosions compared to the cold, calculated precision of Indy’s attack.

However, that plan went out the window when I discovered that one of the most influential people of our time celebrated his 40th birthday last Wednesday and I knew nothing about it until the weekend. Who am I talking about? The one, the only: Matthew McConaughey.

How was this not a national holiday (and I mean all nations)? And how was this not a bigger story in the mainstream media? Kids should have been taken out of school, government offices should have been closed, and marijuana should have been legalized for one day.

I follow pop culture and celebrity gossip way more than any straight male should and I had no idea Wooderson turned forty. That, in itself, is an absolute tragedy. The women’s network couldn’t have strung together a romantic comedy marathon showing only McConaughey fare? How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Failure to Launch, Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, Fool’s Gold should have been playing on an endless loop for 24 hours.

Obviously, I am a huge McConaughey fan. He procured a spot on my Top 10 Mancrush list (there’s no way he should be ranked at #5; that’s my fault as he should have been the questionable number one as my mancrush has only grown in the past 18 months).

Sure, he makes some crappy movies but he is exceedingly likeable on screen. I mean, did anyone see Surfer, Dude? It was one of the worst films I have ever seen but I made it through the entire 85 minutes because McConaughey was in it and there are a lot of scenes with naked chicks (an addition I’m attributing to Matty in his role as producer).

I did a little research on his big day and found an article on the People magazine website, which has a video showing 28 shirtless photos of Matthew in fifty-three seconds. I got way too excited when the site told me I could get “Matthew McConaughey Sexy and Shirtless 28 Ways.”

My fascination with the Texan isn’t sexual (I don’t think), but I can’t help but be impressed with the man. McConaughey’s commitment to physical fitness and positive outlook on life is something to admire. Upon turning 40, McConaughey said he plans to “spend some more time with my family and friends today, grillin' steaks and sippin' beers, celebratin' more to live for.”

Who wouldn’t want to hang out with the guy?

To mark the occasion (albeit belatedly), I played half an hour of shirtless football yesterday afternoon in the glorious sunshine channelling my inner McConaughey.

(Then I hit on some high school girls to channel my inner Wooderson)