Let’s be realistic about “Everybody Hates Chris,” premiering at 7 tonight on KTVD- Channel 20. Chris Rock is busy trying to lower expectations for this little gem. That’s a good idea.
“Everybody Hates Chris” may or may not be the salvation of UPN, the rebirth of comedy in the post-“Raymond” era, and the greatest thing since sliced bread or “Wonder Years.”
It may or may not have more to say about race relations, the ghetto, late-20th century urban America, family and poverty than any TV series to date. And it may or may not provide a platform for one of the country’s greatest comedians to opine on these topics in language more suitable for the mainstream than that of his cable specials.
With only a single episode to judge, we don’t know yet.
What we do know is that Tyler James Williams is phenomenal as the young Chris and the initial half-hour is the most appealing comedy on the fall slates.
The pacing is as clever as the biting observations about adolescent angst in Brooklyn’s Bed-Stuy neighborhood. Quick cuts, minimal but honest dialogue and Rock’s narration keep the show moving.
The portrait of two hard-working parents, barely ahead of the bill collectors, is loving but funny.
The humor is socially astute. These are a fine 23 minutes. Let’s hope succeeding episodes are as good.
And now for something that’s “Inconceivable.”
Eggs and sperm. Little plastic containers of seminal fluid. Embryonic implants and breast milk.
If you’re squeamish about the mere words, NBC’s “Inconceivable” isn’t for you. (“Icky,” a number of male critics pre-emptively concluded.)
Stick with grisly crime scenes and gruesome autopsies in violent dramas more concerned with death than birth.
But if you live in the modern world, where technology is applied to baby-making, and if you follow the standoff between science and religion, you’ll recognize in this hour, premiering Friday (at 9 p.m. on KUSA-Channel 9), an opportunity for cutting-edge drama.
The topical themes illustrated in the ensemble drama “Inconceivable” – surrogacy, anonymous donors hunted by offspring, gay parents, artificial insemination, certain not-quite-legal infertility treatments – are an inventive leap beyond the raft of criminal procedurals.
But Americans aren’t accustomed to seeing such personal, quasi-sexual topics paraded in primetime. The sight of yet another bludgeoned body being dissected in one more police lab may be less disturbing than the medical procedures occurring in this posh Beverly Hills fertility clinic.
While the opportunity for envelope pushing is there, “Inconceivable” is struggling with its own birth, having endured casting changes and a shift in emphasis since the pilot was unveiled to critics. There’s a chance the producers could still get it right.
Ming Na (“ER”) plays Rachel Lu, co-founder of the Family Options Fertility Clinic and a single mom whose son wonders about his sperm-donor dad. Lu is in some ways the conscience of the clinic. The actress’ pregnancy has been worked into the story line in a slightly awkward way, but why hide it in a show about conceiving?
Jonathan Cake (“Empire”) plays brilliant, egomaniacal Dr. Malcolm Bowers, partner in the clinic and godlike miracle worker to the often desperate, infertile patients longing to be parents. When he’s not promising babies, he’s bedding babes. He easily sees his way past the moral and ethical questions his work raises.
Angie Harmon (“Law & Order”) joins them as new partner Dr. Nora Campbell, a flashy, self-assured, wealthy physician – and source of sexual tension for Dr. Bowers. Harmon’s towering presence could save the series. When she arrives, the excitement moves from petri dishes and sonograms to actual personalities.
Alfre Woodard has a guest role as a staff psychologist. The office manager, medical technician, nurse and legal counsel contribute their own dilemmas and baby traumas to the mix.
Co-creators Oliver Goldstick (“Desperate Housewives”) and Marco Pennette (“What I Like About You”), both of whom have used surrogate mothers to become parents, acknowledge that the science is changing so quickly, the fiction can barely keep up.
The pilot is marked by too obvious attempts to clone certain aspects of “Desperate Housewives.” The music gives it away. Among the evident rip-offs are the unmistakable caper music – you know it when you hear it – the use of the too-literal Queen and David Bowie song “Under Pressure” as a pregnant woman is ordered to “Push!,” along with too-cute episode titles (“Secrets and Thighs,” “To Surrogate With Love”). Clearly, the producers have been ordered to balance some of the difficult emotional and physiological issues with light, soapy bits.
It may be icky, but it’s a fertile premise.
TV critic Joanne Ostrow can be reached at 303-820-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com.
