You Don't Have to Be a Football Fan to Love Friday Night Lights

Fall is in the air, and football season has begun. While I've always enjoyed autumn, I never gave the pigskin much thought, but I know a lot of my classmates got pretty excited about high school football. Their enthusiasm pales, however, in comparison to that of the townspeople of Dillon, Texas, where the television drama Friday Night Lights takes place. For Dillon residents, supporting the Panthers is a matter of civic pride, since it is the only football team in town. Most businesses shut down on the day of a home game; the stadium is the only place to be.

It is into this community that Eric Taylor (Kyle Chandler) comes as the new head coach of the Panthers. Expectations are high; the team has done very well for itself in the past, and the current starting quarterback, Jason Street (Scott Porter), is one of the most talented athletes recruiters have seen in years. The pressure is intense enough even with this golden boy in the lead, but when a tragic accident puts Jason out of commission, Coach Taylor must scramble to keep the team in the running for the championships, and himself in a job. That means trusting in sweet, shy, stuttering second-stringer Matt Saracen (Zach Gilford), who has his hands full as it is holding down a job and looking after his beloved grandmother (Louanne Stephens), who slips in and out of dementia. Nervous and bumbling at the beginning, Matt gains confidence over the weeks without sacrificing his deeply ingrained sense of integrity.

While the show focuses most prominently on the twin journeys of Matt and his coach as they try to become comfortable in their new roles, we also watch several other characters develop. Initially, Eric's wife, Tami (Connie Britton), struck me as a bit of a bubble-head, but that first impression soon corrected itself. A patient and caring wife and mother with occasional bursts of temper that match her husband's, she finds her place in the town when she takes a job as school counselor and begins advising students, who benefit greatly from her concern. Her new job occasionally causes friction, however, since she sometimes finds herself butting heads with her husband on certain issues, like the school looking the other way when football players cheat on tests. His daughter Julie (Amy Teegarden), meanwhile, is 15 and full of attitude, an intellectual whose determination to have nothing to do with the sport that obsesses her dad falters as Matt gradually works up the nerve to ask her out.

As Jason learns to adjust to life in a wheelchair, his solid relationship with perky cheerleader Lyla Garrity (Minka Kelly) begins to crumble, despite her faithfulness in visiting him daily at the hospital and in rehab. Meanwhile, he wonders bitterly why his best friend, surly Tim Riggins (Taylor Kitsch), hasn't come to visit; when he finally does, their friendship is tested after Jason discovers a shattering secret. Other notable students include bad-girl Tyra Collette (Adrianne Palicki), Tim's on-again, off-again girlfriend; Smash Williams (Gaius Chales), a hot-shot who is probably the most likely remaining member of the team to go pro; and Landry Clarke (Jesse Plemons), Matt's nerdy best friend who dishes out bad dating advice while pining over Tyra. Tim and Tyra remind me a lot of Daniel and Kim from Freaks and Geeks and follow a similar progression, while Matt's struggles to keep his new status as football star from going to his head recall Clark in season four of Smallville.

All of these students have problems, and we often see the parents taking an active role in helping their children through their difficulties. The Taylors present the best example of a mom and dad supporting each other and their child, and indeed they wind up playing parents to dozens of students throughout the year. Eric can holler with the best of them out on the field or in the locker room, but he is fair, and he values respect and hard work. He does sometimes get a little too caught up in his job, however, and that's when it's up to Tami to remind him how important family time is. Apart from the Taylors, my favorite parent is Smash's mother, Corrina (Liz Mikel), a widow and devout church-goer who raises her children with a firm hand tempered with expansive affection.

Lyla's affluent parents strive to keep a stable home for their children, but her father Buddy's (Brad Leland) philandering makes that difficult; Jason's parents are so desperate to provide for Jason in the face of his costly medical bills that they decide to sue Coach Taylor for their son's injury. Tyra's mother (Dana Wheeler-Nicholson) is deeply devoted to her daughter but tragically addicted to men who take advantage of her, and she does nothing to foster Tyra's opportunities to further her education. Tim lives with his brother Billy (Derek Phillips), who generally is a bad influence but at least is there for him, which is more than can be said of his father (Brett Cullen, who's appeared on LOST and Ugly Betty, two of my other favorite shows), who only shows up long enough to remind Tim what a lousy role model he is. Similarly, Matt's dad (Brent Smiga) spends most of the season off-screen, and his arrival from Iraq causes more problems for Matt than it solves, at least initially, but his grandma, even at her least lucid, remains warm and loving.

Each episode juggles all these storylines and characters quite well, aided by a jerky cinematography style that I initially disliked but that grew less distracting for me as the season progressed. There are many scenes in which several of the key characters are scattered across a room or a field, and often the camera will pan away from one conversation to another occurring feet away. This seems to happen especially often in the beginning, when there is a need for us to get to know the different characters as quickly as possible. Later episodes tend to put more focus on characters' individual paths, and there is plenty of room for them to make mistakes and mature; writers Peter Berg and Buzz Bissinger see to it that most characters do plenty of both.

Several of the characters - most prominently Lyla and Smash's family - are vocally Christian, and it seems most of the townsfolk attend church, which is refreshing to see, though it doesn't prevent anyone from getting into sticky situations. More than half a dozen characters are unfaithful to a spouse or significant other over the course of the season, and there are instances of bullying, violence, unethical practices, racism, underage drinking, theft and drug use. Such mis-steps have consequences, however, and most characters are considerably wiser at the end of the season than they were at the beginning.

Friday Night Lights is a slice-of-life show that demonstrates how a town can be both divided and united by a passion for football and how times of change and trauma help to build character. Though the show was snubbed by the Emmys and didn't manage to rein in a large audience, it has another chance to find its footing this fall, and I hope it does because whatever accolades it receives are well-deserved. I probably won't be spending any time at the football stadium this autumn, but I'm all too happy to get into the spirit by watching Friday Night Lights.

Ugly Betty Introduces Us to a Truly Beautiful Heroine

Summer is winding down. As compensation for this potentially depressing reality, the major television networks stand at the ready to distract viewers with a colorful array of new shows. The last few years have been good to me. Four years ago: Joan of Arcadia. Three: LOST. Two: Ghost Whisperer. And last year... Ugly Betty. All the summer buzz for this show based on a popular telenovela especially intrigued my mom, so we made a point of watching the first episode when it aired. We were hooked.

Ugly Betty is a bright, splashy, silly but life-affirming show revolving around one of the most engaging heroines ever to grace the small screen. America Ferrera, who wowed me a couple years back in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, dazzles as the luminescent but gawky Betty Suarez, a plucky young Latina from Queens whose trademark look includes clunky red-framed glasses, a mouth full of metal and one fashion disaster after another. Her ensemble should pose a glaring problem, since she's just landed a position as the assistant to the editor-in-chief of Mode, a major fashion magazine. But Betty has a smart head on her shoulders and a soul brimming with goodness, so her common sense, cleverness and morality allow her to get further in this cut-throat business than anyone would expect.

It helps that her boss, Daniel Meade (Eric Mabius), is stepping into unexplored territory himself, having just been appointed by his father, magazine tycoon Bradford Meade (Alan Dale), to run the show. Mabius plays his role with a charming mixture of befuddlement and style. He's obviously used to the finer things in life, but as a rich playboy he's never had to go after them himself. Bradford - who in many ways is identical to Charles Widmore (the wealthy, dream-squashing father of Desmond's dream girl, Penny), the character he portrays on LOST - thinks having a frumpy assistant will help Daniel keep his mind on his job, but he never counted on the dramatic impact she would have on his work ethic and his overall development as a person. Daniel isn't a bad guy. In most respects, he's very decent, but he does have some unfortunate tendencies, and Betty soon takes it upon herself to go above and beyond her daily duties and act as his own personal Jiminy Cricket.

If Daniel soon begins to appreciate her, most of her other new associates come around much more slowly. She does find a fast friend in Christina McKinney (Ashley Jensen), an off-beat Scottish seamstress desperately trying to get her foot in the door as a fashion designer, but even after surviving her first nightmarish day on the job, she finds animosity around every corner. The most egregious offenders are Amanda Tanen (Becki Newton), a receptionist who's had her eye on Betty's job (and her boss) for ages, and Marc St. James (Michael Urie), effervescent assistant to icy fashionista Wilhelmina Slater (Vanessa Williams), who is determined to seize Daniel's power for herself.

Williams' presence is commanding, and she struts around the office like a slightly classier version of Cruella De Vil. Wilhelmina may not be ordering hits on spotted puppies, but she certainly isn't short on underhanded schemes, and Marc is incomparably capable of helping her carry them out. His favorite side hobby is teaming up with his best buddy Amanda and heaping the snark on Betty, who generally shrugs off their insults, which are usually veiled as compliments whose sarcasm she often misses. When I watched the pilot episode, I was powerfully reminded of 13 Going on 30, and Amanda particularly brought to mind the catty, back-stabbing Lucy, fellow employee at the fashion magazine where naive protagonist Jenna works. It's hard to say which of the office divas is more unlikable, but both manage to garner our sympathy before too long, rude remarks and conniving aside. Wilhelmina becomes downright cuddly during a mid-season arc involving laid-back millionaire Ted LeBeau (Brett Cullen, who I first knew as apparent goody-two-shoes Goodwin on LOST), while Amanda shows her vulnerable side as she pines after Daniel.

But among this troublesome trio, it's Urie who really steals the show, flouncing around the office with an impeccable wardrobe and sparkling smile, feigning friendliness to Betty even as he snaps unflattering photos of her and competes with Amanda to come up with the most scathing appraisals of their newest co-worker. Marc is cruel in a Simon Cowell-meets-Jack McFarland sort of way, but he's so darn adorable it's hard to get too perturbed about it, and no one can deny he's both a dedicated lackey to Wilhelmina and a faithful friend to Amanda. In a show marked by camp, he's probably the most over-the-top character of all, but underneath all that showmanship is a sensitive and sometimes even compassionate soul, which we see particularly strongly when Marc's mother makes a guest appearance late in the season.

Betty has more problems to deal with on the home front. She lives with her father Ignacio (Tony Plana), a tender, fun-loving widower who immigrated to America from Mexico 30 years ago. As health problems prevent him from working, Betty finds herself the main bread-winner of the family, though her saucy older sister Hilda (Ana Ortiz) brings in some cash selling herbal remedies. Ignacio is a refreshingly devoted father, but he has a few skeletons in his closet that cause a host of headaches when they come out to tap-dance across the kitchen floor. Speaking of dancing, Betty's pre-teen nephew Justin (Mark Indelicato) is like a miniature Marc with a little less 'tude. Ecstatic that his aunt has managed to land a position at the magazine of his dreams, the musical-obsessed, flawlessly garbed Justin takes every opportunity to sneak a peek at the inner workings of Mode, much to the chagrin of Santos (Kevin Alejandro), the macho absentee father who comes back into his life early in the season.

And then there's Walter (Kevin Sussman), Betty's high school sweetheart, who in the first episode cheats on her with the neighborhood floozy who's only using him for his discount at the electronics store. I recognized Sussman immediately as the mobster-threatened ninny from the Verizon Wireless commercial, and he's similarly the epitome of awkward here. He strives to win Betty back, and at first I rooted for their relationship; after all, four years together can't just be thrown out the window. But there is the matter of the infidelity, and the fact that Betty and Walter have zero chemistry with each other. Each of their scenes seems like an ungainly waltz, with Betty trying not to get her toes stubbed by the croaky young man who tries his best to be sweet but more often comes across as clingy, whiny and clueless.

Not so Henry Grubstick (Christopher Gorham), who, with his Clark Kent looks and C-3PO mannerisms, is every bit as geeky as his name suggests but is a Nerd in Shining Armor if ever I saw one. Time seems to stand still every time the glasses-clad accountant waddles over to Betty for some heart-fluttering small talk. Before long, her officemates notice right along with the audience that these two are perfectly poised to be the cutest couple in Manhattan, but Walter is only one of the roadblocks standing in the way of this storybook romance.

And storybook is a good way to describe this show, which veers ever so slightly away from reality. It's like a Kodachrome snapshot of New York City, packed with over-dramatic performances and unreasonably coincidental twists and turns, to say nothing of all the steamy secrets bubbling underneath the revered name of Meade. With its vibrant sets, snappy dialogue and winking scene transitions, it's candy for the eyes and ears. Ugly Betty doesn't try to take itself too seriously, as evidenced by the self-parody in the form of the Spanish soap opera Ignacio often watches, which usually features a gorgeous man and woman engaging in some sort of violent argument that turns into a passionate kiss. It is on this show that executive producer Salma Hayek makes her first appearance; she later returns for a mid-season arc as the editor of a new women's magazine with whom Daniel becomes smitten.

The show is steamy, with all sorts of torrid little affairs happening at once. Double entendres fly fast and furious and along with showing the sometimes seedy ins and outs of the fashion industry, it broaches such ticklish topics as transsexualism, teenage pregnancy and illegal immigration. While it aims for comedy and succeeds brilliantly, it also manages to be very touching, particularly in its treatment of family. While there is a clear contrast between the Meades' dysfunctional opulence and the Suarezes' wholesome near-poverty, the members of Daniel's family do find ways of caring for each other, and Betty becomes like a sister to him, providing both a stern guiding hand and a shoulder to cry on.

In the end, it all comes down to Betty, whose steps may be clumsy, whose clothes may clash, whose confidence may waver, but who never loses her kindness, her unswerving ethics, her absolute decency. Through the skill of America Ferrera, we see the American Dream in action, a regular girl without much cash or many connections making her mark on the world through a combination of ambition and integrity. I don't know if this year's fall season will yield a new show for me to get hooked on. But I know that season two of Ugly Betty is right around the corner, and that is a beautiful thing indeed.