I'm already sick of shows set in Vegas. I realize there have actually only been a handful of Sin City-centric shows recently, but since they all recycle the same elements, it seems like there's been a lot more. It's great that Vegas has captured the TV zeitgeist, but little of the Vegas you see on TV—even on reality shows—represents the actual city. This is a phenomenon that LA and New York residents have been dealing with for years, but since Vegas as a TV locale is relatively novel, every representation skews public perception of our city that much further.
It'd be nice if some of the shows set in Vegas were good. Take the flashy new drama, Dr. Vegas (CBS, Fridays, 10 p.m.), CBS's attempt to answer NBC's flashy drama, Las Vegas. It's got an interesting premise: Rob Lowe plays the resident doctor of the fictional Metro Hotel and Casino, where he deals with guests' medical problems while battling his own gambling addiction. The show is loosely based on a real-life doctor who practiced at Caesars Palace for 40 years, and has the potential to combine the life-or-death drama of medical shows with the glitz of a show like Las Vegas.
The problem is that the show so far is all glitz and no drama, and doesn't seem to know whether to take itself seriously or not. Lowe, although a proven strong actor in his post-Brat Pack days, is not believable as a doctor or gambling addict, and seems to be having too much fun for all the problems his character supposedly has. He does have good chemistry with co-star Joe Pantoliano, who plays the casino owner, but the plots so far have relied too much on Vegas clichés (corrupt boxing matches, card counters, showgirls on drugs) to be particularly compelling.
Far more compelling, strangely enough, is the reality show American Casino (Discovery, Fridays, 8 p.m.), which just kicked off a new season. American Casino has succeeded where Fox's summer flop, The Casino, failed, depicting the inner workings of a Vegas hotel-casino and the various people who populate it. The differences between the two are clear: The Casino, from reality mogul Mark Burnett, focused on over-the-top personalities and characters like swingers, frat-boy virgins and prostitutes of indeterminate gender. It tried to make its stars, Golden Nugget owners Tim Poster and Tom Breitling, into actual stars, despite both being boring and peevish. And it focused on antics with guests that were obviously staged, brought in to create story lines.
American Casino, on the other hand, takes a much more casual approach, focusing on the locals-oriented Green Valley Ranch casino, which is off the Strip and doesn't attract the same kind of self-consciously flashy characters as the Nugget. Instead of artificially building up their stars as embodiments of Vegas cool, the producers have let personalities develop naturally, and given more insight into the inner workings of the property by focusing on employees rather than guests. It's a testament to the show's effectiveness that the death of Michael Tata, a GVR vice-president and one of the stars, was handled with dignity but still made for interesting drama among employees. If anything, American Casino can be a little dull, but at least it doesn't aim higher than its reach. Mark Burnett should take note.
Also this week, the new fall shows continue to debut, and we've reached the schmaltzy family drama portion of the premiere season. Without a doubt the worst is the cloying, irritating Clubhouse, (CBS, Tuesdays, 9 p.m.). Exactly what you'd expect from CBS, this predictable, middle-of-the-road drama stars the supremely annoying Jeremy Sumpter as a batboy for the fictional New York Empires baseball team. Our young hero learns a good four lessons in each episode, and everything gets wrapped up neatly by the time the credits roll. Subtract even more points for sticking good actors like Christopher Lloyd and Mare Winningham with treacly, pseudo-inspirational garbage.
Maybe it's just because I can't stand babies, but I didn't like Kevin Hill (UPN, Wednesdays, 9 p.m.) much more than Clubhouse. Taye Diggs is charming as a high-powered lawyer who gets stuck raising his cousin's baby, but the concept is just Three Men and a Baby with one man, or the Diane Keaton comedy Baby Boom with a male, instead of a female, workaholic. Kevin learns that family is more important than making money, and he has a gay nanny to bring the show into the 21st century. Wake me when it's cancelled.