Explosions Exploding

So, you're a fan of terrible TV. Worry not! There are lots of terrible things, like agnosticism and getting caught learning to play an instrument, but here's the catch: I can make your TV show better. You may think that anybody can do this simply by hiring new writers or better actors, and you'd be right, but I'm going to work within self-imposed constraints and use my knowledge to improve three shows by at least 37% without simply killing every character or firing every writer. Now read on as I kick mediocrity in the dick.

The Show: How I Met Your Mother

"We found a wallet in here and we're not giving it back!"

The Problem: I've Seen Friends

Comparing How I Met Your Mother (or HIMYM, which is dangerously close to HIMYN - just sayin') to Friends is lazy, and it is somewhat unfair since people don't like you making fun of their show, but the problem remains: I've seen Friends. I spent a good decade of my life seeing repeats of Friends on various channels, and whatever room there was in my heart for several whiny, over-privileged New-Yorkers was filled. This is hardly fair since Friends didn't invent the sitcom or New York (it did invent The Rachel and dancing in fountains) but that's my own experience, and it's why I can't invest in the show. Oh, and it's not funny. 

The Solution: Identity

If you haven't seen the film Identity then you should know that every character is a figment of a convicted murderer's mind. You should also know I just spoiled Identity for you. Just be glad I spoiled a shitty film in which the story is revealed to have taken place in somebody's mind instead of something you might've watched like Pan's Labyrinth or Jacob's Ladder. Anyway, upon adopting this direction the show becomes infinitely more interesting; stilted dialogue becomes the result of a fractured mind incapable of creating well-rounded individuals; the cardboard, too-clean New York is explained away as a reflection of all the family-friendly television our protagonist has consumed; the show gains an over-arching narrative that viewers can look for clues of in each episode. Basically, it's a lot more fun than playing 'guess the baby mama' with the female cast. Hey, maybe for the series finale they could send a camera crew out to a random viewer's house and tell them that it was their creation all along - that they're responsible for polluting the airwaves with the televisual equivalent of a dog breathing in your face. In all honesty, 'it was all a dream!' is tacky bullshit, but at least you'd blow that one person's mind, and that's one more than the real show will ever succeed in blowing.  

That same viewer's attempts to dream of Candy Land would prove unsuccessful.

The Show: Skins

This Facebook quiz says I'm just like the cunty one!

The Problem: They Have No Problems

I can only speak about series four and five of Skins since that's all I've seen, but even if it did start out great watching it is now like watching a viral video your mother sent you, and that's where I aim to improve. Skins is an example of a show written by older people pandering to kids in their mid-to-late teens by presenting their lives as fascinating, hedonistic and full of angst. It's no surprise that these people latch onto this show and act like it's a mirror of their drug-fuelled lives - they just want to be cool. The problem is that every character has a pretty decent life; they have food, clothes, a chance at an education and at least a couple of friends. They're also all annoying little assholes who create drama for themselves and then spend forty minutes wandering the streets screaming something like "IT'S FUCKED. IT'S ALL JUST FUCKED" as they spiral into all-out despair over the delay of their Amazon.co.uk delivery or whatever the fuck has happened that makes them discount the remaining sixty-to-eighty years of their life. 

The Solution: Jerry

Who's Jerry? This is Jerry:

Hi, Jerry!

OK, so maybe not that kid specifically, but Skins' next step is to cast and incorporate either a thalidomide or paraplegic. That is my only contribution, but it is most certainly an important one. By forcing the writers to add ol' Jerry into at least two-thirds of scenes I fucking dare the writers to try and write a story about any character getting dumped/losing their super-8 camera/being de-friended by Vice magazine on Facebook/having their parent not give them their undivided attention/being crushed by Dorothy upon her arrival/forgetting their sock puppet theatre rehearsal with a straight face whilst our stoic hero sits prominently in the foreground. Jerry instantly becomes a symbol of sanity, and should any two characters become hysterical with anger over which one of them gets to blow weed in a stray dog's face, then it's Jerry's time to shine as he calmly rolls on from the right side of the screen. Skins is forced to take a long, hard look at itself before deciding that maybe the problems of your average sixth-form student pale in comparison to those of pretty much anybody, and that there are people in this world who can accept and move on from whatever life throws at them without throwing a shit-fit that would make Jack Nicholson blush.

Just grow a pair of tits and move on.

The Show: Episodes

I'm sure 'Joey' will enjoy a renaissance on Blu-Ray.

The Problem: Matt LeBlanc Is Dead Inside

If you've read any of the dozen interviews with Matt LeBlanc during which he talked about waiting to accept just the right project after Friends then you'll already know the sadness I'm talking about. Here is a man still struggling to come to terms with the world's baffling disdain of the Lost In Space remake whilst at the same time trying to afford a pool for his pool-cleaning net. You can't really compliment his performance as a down-and-out actor when you know that between takes he's trying to persuade the government that he has nothing worth repossessing on his Motorola Razr. I mean really, the problem with the show is that it's not funny, but let's forget that and focus on poor Matt instead. 

The Solution: PayPal

It's not too late to return Joey to his late-90s glory. It's time for a grass-roots campaign that reaches around the world. I want people in China donating their hard-earned China dollars, I want Russians taking a break from raising children of steel and instead marching through the streets of Moscow to the tune of The Rembrandts 'I'll Be There For You'. Whatever your national stereotype, stop doing that and give Matt some money. Once we've raised enough money then it's time to hand over that money to Japanese scientists who will then create five highly realistic androids based on the likenesses of the cast of Friends which are then instilled with the five, fictitious personalities of that show. Upon completion of the Friends-bots our next step is to create a 1:1 scale replica of New York (like a much grander Synecdoche, New York) for Matt to live in where eventually the life, memories and sadness of Matt LeBlanc are replaced wholesale by the wacky hijinks of Joey Tribbiani, this fictional life eventually consuming him whole until nothing remains of his true self but half-remembered dreams of a cruel and distant land which shunned his genius. If I did have to think of a way to improve Episodes, I'd probably just add a talking koala called Donny. I don't know, it might be cool.