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| 'Queens
Supreme,' case dismissed Silly, dull mess of a show, a real talent-waster By Ethan Alter In the wake of the short-lived debacle that was "girls club," is it possible that David E. Kelley might be currently operating under a pseudonym? I ask because the new CBS courtroom series "Queens Supreme" (Fridays, 10 p.m.) plays so much like a Kelley production that it was a surprise not to see his name listed in the credits. As with the uber-producer's signature shows, specifically "Picket Fences" and "Ally McBeal," "Queens Supreme" strives for a mixture of comedy and drama, often through the use of over-the-top storylines and attention-grabbing plot twists, such as the severed penis that turned up in last week's premiere. Also like both of those earlier series, the attempts at dramedy are rarely successful here. Simply put, "Queens Supreme" is a mess, an overwrought, dull and downright silly show that squanders too much notable talent. Chief among the wasted performers is series star Oliver Platt. Platt has been one of Hollywood's ace scene-stealers since the early '90s. Whenever he tries his hand at being the lead of a television series, however, the result rarely works out well. Anybody remember the failed NBC drama "Deadline" back in 2000? On that show he portrayed a combustible newspaper reporter, prone to elaborate outbursts and other amateur theatrics. For "Queens Supreme" he's traded in the journalist's cap for judges' robes, but his character remains essentially the same. As Jack Moran, Platt stomps around the set alternately bellowing and cackling at anyone who comes within five feet of him. It's an awful performance, made all the worse by the knowledge that Platt can be a fantastic actor when he's given good material to work with. More subdued, but no less disappointing, is veteran character actor Robert Loggia, who is trapped in the Martin Sheen role as the ensemble's wizened boss/father figure, Judge Thomas O'Neill. While he doesn't let the part fall into caricature a la Platt, Loggia doesn't try very hard to make O'Neill a compelling character, either. In fact, most of the time the actor simply looks bored, and given the dialogue he's reciting, who can blame him? Rounding out the cast are Annabella Sciorra as the newly appointed justice -- and personal friend of the mayor -- Kim Vicidomini, L. Scott Caldwell as O'Neill's no-nonsense second-in-command Rose Barnea, and Marcy Harriel and James Madio, who play two overly eager legal assistants. Eagle-eyed viewers probably noticed Vincent Pastore from "The Sopranos" in the first episode, but it's unclear as yet whether he'll be a recurring performer. Perhaps realizing that their attempts at dramedy weren't going so well, the writers turned the second episode, entitled "Flawed Heroes," into a much more straightforward courtroom drama, complete with a subplot about an Irish mob that threatens Moran's life. While it's an improvement on the pilot, "Heroes" is still pretty generic television. There's nothing in it that hasn't been done and done better in countless other legal series. And that's actually the root of the problem. Much like the recent glut of medical dramas, there are so many courtroom shows on the air right now that they're all starting to run together. The producers were wise to distinguish "Queens Supreme" by injecting some humor into the proceedings, but the execution is faulty at best, insulting at worst. The best way to inject some life into this dying genre would be to hire "Scrubs" creator Bill Lawrence to do a legal sitcom. After all, episode for episode "Scrubs" balances humor and pathos with a mastery that "Queens Supreme" can only dream of. January 16, 2003© 2003 Media Life -Ethan Alter is a New York writer and a regular contributor to Media Life.
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