"Studio 60" is done, but this near-valentine in the Los Angeles Times indicates that he still doesn't know what he did.

Are we done? Please, please, tell me that's it. …

The burdensome, pompous, four-episode arc that ended the series told me two fundamental things. One, that all concerned had decided that no one was watching and the show could say and do anything it wanted. Two, that those episodes constitute Aaron Sorkin's admission that he wasn't very good at writing a show about television, so he might as well write about politics again until he was told to stop. And while I still enormously liked some things, including Matthew Perry's performance, I was way past ready for it to be done.

As you may have realized from a previous post, this has been a weekend of family business, so it was only this evening that I finally got to "Studio 60" …

I ended up not elaborating on last week's episode because it ultimately felt as if there wasn't any point to it. The show's not coming back. It doesn't deserve to. Case closed, right? I'm watching out of professional obligation — some notion that Aaron Sorkin's name means that I should at least play out the hand — but it wasn't good last week and I didn't expect it to be any better this week either.

Mostly it wasn't. The show just lumbers. I don't buy anything any of the characters are doing. They're playing out the hand, too, and they know that they won't be saved by the river card.

Which does not mean I was unmoved by the closing scenes with Tom. But neither does it mean that it didn't find the scenes self-important. Yes, there are more important things in life than the TV ratings — and, by implication, the TV shows that try to generate those ratings. I have been surrounded this weekend by things that are more important than a TV show. By family. By a major moment in my family's life. By joy and bittersweet memories. I don't need Aaron Sorkin to tell me that's important.

I do need Aaron Sorkin to not make crappy TV shows.

I do need him to provide something that, at the end of a tiring day, provides pleasure or insight or provocation — that, in sum, does not make me feel as if I have wasted an hour.

I need him to make comedy sketches that are — what's the word? — funny. Which he didn't do even when Matt was supposedly sober and on his game.

I need him to make an episode that does not feel as if he is playing a losing hand.

And I need him to keep his self-righteousness to himself, especially in the face of his own massive creative failure.

There are times, after all, when an entertaining TV show can be important, too.

NBC began burning off the remaining episodes last night. Pretty painful spectacle. I'll expand on that thought later.

TVtattle.com notes that NBC.com has posted a return date for "Studio 60": May 24. Tattle notes that's the day after the May sweeps end. It's also after NBC announces its schedule for Fall 2007. Bad signs all around.

Of course, the show's fans will be happy. But if NBC was interested in making fans of dead shows happy, it could get those unaired "E-Ring" episodes off the shelf. And that "American Dreams" finale.

And I'm dreaming on both counts.

Should they call it "Studio 60 at the Overlook Hotel"? and other viewing issues, after the jump

Looked like a couple of feet of snow this morning. Felt like a couple of tons. Snowfall had started last night, encouraging staying in last night — and forcing a stay-in this morning until the driveway and roads were clear enough. Especially the driveway.

Besides some work, I did some catching up on viewing. Finally finished "Studio 60" and, man, can I see why NBC decided to put it on hiatus quicker. The whole Matt-is-tripping thing just got sillier and sillier; I would not have been surprised to see Jack Nicholson's face in the photograph.

"Gilmore Girls" took us to an expected place: the crash of Lorelai and Christopher. Moderately well handled — I liked that Sookie asked the key question — but wrapped in twaddle like Rory's going girlish over the instructor.

"Veronica Mars" didn't knock me out, either. Didn't buy Logan as nanny, especially as the self-contained story. And budget caution was noticeable: Were those window shots of Las Vegas printed on cardboard?

Al Franken had his last show for Air America today, and announced he is running for Senate in Minnesota. I like Al, and his was one of the rare talk-radio shows I could listen to for fun. (The other is Stephanie Miller's.) I have no idea how he'll do in voting politics, in spite of his considerable experience as a commentator. But he has paid considerable political dues, including a visit to Akron on behalf of Ohio Democrats before the last election.

Still, I keep thinking of Tom Lehrer's line about movie hoofer-turned-politician George Murphy: "Isn't it great, at last we've got a senator who can really sing and dance?" Mocking, certainly, only Murphy had been elected. As was Jesse Ventura. And that fella Reagan didn't too badly either. Besides, there have been plenty of politicians as funny as Franken, and some might have even been funny on purpose.

Also funny on purpose is Christopher Guest's "For Your Consideration," which I have been checking out on DVD. The Guest stock company is so funny on its own that I was having fun just with the deleted scenes. Not sure how I will end up ranking this among Guest's movies, since his movies get better with repeated viewing over time. I still don't think this is going to be up there with "Waiting for Guffman" or "Best in Show," but it's pretty good. Catherine O'Hara, after all, especially at the end. Harry Shearer. And Fred Willard, Fred Willard, Fred Willard.

Have been watching "Entertainment Tonight's" unbelievable cozying up to Howard K. Stern, including the cameras there for Stern's reunion with Anna Nicole Smith's baby. What a huge load. If Stern really cared about this kid, he wouldn't be using her as a prop in his image-rebuilding campaign. And "ET" is willing to play along in exchange for exclusivity.

And, it being Wednesday, I expect to have a few thoughts later on some of tonight's shows.

Pondering an NBC schedule change, after the jump …

I haven't gotten through last night's "Studio 60" yet. Ten minutes in, I decided I needed sleep more. Maybe the 10 minutes was more than many viewers have given it, since NBC gave the Aaron Sorkin drama a more abrupt hiatus than was at first planned. Here's the announcement:

NBC's new mid-season drama "The Black Donnellys" will premiere on Monday, February 26 (10-11 p.m. ET) — following the hit drama "Heroes" (9-10 p.m. ET), it was announced today by Kevin Reilly, President, NBC Entertainment.

"The Black Donnellys" had previously been announced to debut on March 5. "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" (currently Mondays, 10-11 p.m. ET), will return to the schedule later this season on a date to be determined.

I guess it's time to look at the rest of the "Donnellys" review disc. I thought the pilot was interesting enough when I saw it last summer, although it felt like a more accessible version of "EZ Streets," a marvelous but short-lived show also from Paul Haggis. Of course, almost no one saw "EZ Streets." For the vast TV audience, any comparisons would be about as useful as noting parallels with "Berlin Alexanderplatz." (Fear not. I haven't seen that either.) But the disc with more episodes has been around for weeks, and somehow I just haven't gotten to it. But soon. And, obviously, sooner than I expected.

I managed to sit through last night's "Studio 60" (as well as the last 15 minutes or so of "24" which is NBA-like in holding the real drama until the clock is ticking down). Mostly a snooze, once again no point to a two-parter. But I did perk up at the reference to the TCA being in town.

TCA is the Television Critics Association. I'm a member, and you have read about some of its gatherings in this blog.

On "Studio 60," Tom, in a bad lie, claimed that he had to be a celebrity waiter at a TCA event. The lie was bad because there was no point to it, and because his getting caught seemed inevitable — pretty much the way you knew that Danny and Jordan were going to get locked on the roof before the door even snapped shut. (And how many cell phones would be unable — oh, never mind, it's not worth it.)

Now, I have been to many TCA events over the last 22 years and I don't remember one with celebrity waiters. That said, I do remember:

— Craig Kilborn having Jell-O shots delivered to everyone present at a TCA awards.

— Jimmy Kimmel working the grill one lunchtime.

— Richard Simmons carrying a tray of fruit to reporters.

— A Fran Drescher press conference accompanied by bags of her croutons.

So maybe Aaron Sorkin was a waiter one time, and I just didn't notice.

Caught up with "24" yesterday and this morning, and I have to say the absurdity of it is so brazen that I'm almost amused. As near as I could tell, exactly one southern California street was clogged by panic-stricken drivers. Jack's own driving attempts, as well as those of other characters, for the most part were blissfully unimpeded.

Then there was the seeming lack of real alarm about the nuke and the radiation — oh, it's blowing somewhere else! Sort of like the second-season nuke, which was put aside almost immediately after it happened. Jack moved on, and so did the show.

And I can't overlook Jack's latest Prince Hamlet move, the I-can't-go-on-I-must-go-on attitude (all right, that's more Samuel Beckett) that didn't make CTU think Jack was a little too unsteady to deal with THE BEST CLUE THEY HAD!

Finally, speaking of clues, anyone else think they were blatantly signalling that Jack's brother's kid is actually Jack's?

On "Studio 60," maybe I was just tired but I did laugh at Dolphin Girl. Beyond that, not too thrilled about the episode. The whole Danny-chasing-Jordan thing is getting way too creepy. And when so many plot threads were hanging with 10 minutes to go, I started thinking, "Rats, a two-parter." Not least because nothing was interesting enough to justify a second part.

Then again, I may also be reacting to recent reports of Aaron Sorkin playing Mr. Crankypants during the January TV press tour. Check out my friend Alan Sepinwall's account here.

An especially big mess for "Studio 60" in what, if I'm counting correctly, is its fourth telecast — hence the title of this post.

Are we really supposed to believe that Harriet didn't know that was the baseball star's phone number? (And why does Sorkin insist on giving strong women a dumb streak?) Are we really going to have to sit through a faux Maureen Dowd? Is the show ever going to do a sketch — or, in this case, a monologue — that is genuinely funny? (I was particularly disappointed by the references to the show-within-the-show having had two good weeks; I had hoped that someone had recognized that it isn't really all that good.) And what sort of fake sunshine was that ending supposed to be?

Arrrrrrrrgh. But I'm sure Vanity Fair loved it.

Here's where I get a little crazed: Last night, it was about 11 p.m. when the bride and I got back from the screening of "The Departed," and I just couldn't relax. Too much Diet Coke at the movie — it was in one of those cups you could float a paper sailboat across — and I was just wired from watching and thinking about the movie. So, after a feeble attempt at sleeping, I settled down with my recording of the third episode of "Studio 60."

Which didn't help me sleep either.

I fear the wheels are falling off the bus with this one. The biggest reason is that Aaron Sorkin keeps insisting on showing us comedy sketches within the show and it's now absolutely clear that Sorkin can't write sketch comedy. (Maybe he should send a distress call to Tina Fey.) We're supposed to believe that something remarkable is happening with the show, but we have no on-camera evidence of that — and at some point viewers are going to catch on.

It's my secret hope that the dour, show-ending expression on the face of Matthew Perry — one of the two best things in last night's show — means that his character at least knows that the show isn't very good. That it's not just that the ratings will decline, or that the media scrutiny will get more intense. He knows as well that the laughs are artificially generated and will dry up soon enough. But nothing other than Perry's face (and our own view of the sketches) makes that point, so I may be giving it too much credit.

More gripes: An 8-year-old DUI for a network entertainment division president isn't going to generate much of a frenzy — and a book about her would lie dead on the shelves. The focus-group research was oversimplified. The speech about a DUI being worse than a coke problem was absurdly self-righteous.

Second best thing in the episode (after Perry's performance): The Tina Fey-Alec Baldwin promo for "30 Rock." Now, THAT's comedy.

Maybe this is the late hour and the caffeine talking — although, based on some conversations with other viewers this morning, I doubt it. Your thoughts?

… here's the question: Did the cold open live up to the hype? I mentioned before that I didn't think it was all that good, and I still don't think so. I mean, an edgy and contemporary show — and it supposedly wows the crowd with a riff from Gilbert & Sullivan? That cuts into the credibility of the piece; if the sketch wasn't really great, we probably shouldn't have seen it at all. Then again, I have heard conflicting opinions at work — pro-sketch and anti-sketch. Any thoughts out there?