Why I loved 'Curb Your Entusiasm'

Ten years ago at the annual TV Press Tour, Chris Albrecht, then the big man in charge of HBO, was asked what was going on with Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry David's insanely funny comedy.

"We're working hard with Larry and hopefully there will be a season of Curb in '07," he said. "The reason we don't know about Curb is Larry was very unsure after the last season. He felt like last season could have been the final season."

Thankfully, it wasn't. 

Fast forward to today when HBO announced that after a five-year hiatus, Curb will return for a ninth season.

I'm happy, no, downright giddy is more like it. While David has been busy playing one-time presidential hopeful Bernie Sanders on Saturday Night Live, he was sorely missed playing an exaggerated version of himself.

Curb was funnier than most of TV's so-called comedies. I could watch the lovably gruff David arguing with everyone from big name celebrities (Ted Danson, Ben Stiller, David Schwimmer) to no-name department store clerks for several more seasons.

People magazine has never published a "Crankiest Man Alive" special issue, but if it did, Larry David would grace the cover every year. He made Scrooge look like a kind-hearted grandfather.

I was sorry when HBO kicked Curb to the curb. 

But good shows never really die.

The day I hung out with Jon Stewart

After a stellar 16-year run, Jon Stewart signs off for good from The Daily Show tonight. Late night television won't be the same without his snarkiness and blade-sharp sense of humor.

Stewart's departure took me back to 2004 when I hung out at The Daily Show for a day while I was the television critic for The Palm Beach Post. No one can skewer the news like Stewart. I knew this already, but it was reinforced seeing him do it in person.

Here's that story....

 "Let me hear you make some noise!!!!" 
    The 100 giddy audience members on the shoebox-sized set of the The Daily Show with Jon Stewart are more than happy to oblige as they scream, wave, yelp and pump their fists in wide-eyed delight. 
    But Paul Mercurio, the show's hyper warm-up man, isn't impressed. 
    "Show some more enthusiasm," he shouts to the crowd as a disc jockey named Rocky spins deafening heavy metal jams. "I need you to blow the roof off this joint." 
    It's 6:20 p.m. - 10 minutes before Mr. Fake Newsman emerges to say hello to the crowd, sit behind the anchor desk and host what has become TV's most popular - and funniest - satirical news program. 
    For now, however, the crowd belongs to Mercurio. When he spots a conservatively dressed older man, for instance, Mercurio cracks, "How about a hand for (Gilligan Island's) Thurston Howell III." 
    He then goes on to poke fun at Puerto Ricans, attorneys, nuns, an overly excited guy from Uruguay and even Stewart. 
    "Jon is a little (guy)," Mercurio sniffs. "You can kick his a--. But don't stare. He's very insecure." 
    It's 6:30 p.m. That means Mercurio's time is up. Nobody trekked to The Daily Show's midtown Manhattan studios to see some unknown warm-up guy. 
    When Stewart, looking very Ted Koppel-like in a dark suit, gray shirt and striped tie, walks on stage, the audience stands and cheers wildly. He sheepishly pretends not to know what all the fuss is about. 
    "I don't care for this program and I don't watch it," he says sternly. "It's crass and puerile." 
    But we all know nothing could be farther from the truth. 
    Comedy Central's Daily Show is the hot button show of a divisive political season. Which is why viewership is up 25 percent from this time last year. During the week of the Republican National Convention, The Daily Show averaged 1.4 million viewers. And when the show aired live after the first presidential debate, a whopping 2.4 million viewers tuned in - the most in the show's eight-year history. 
    Amazingly, The Daily Show has become a key venue for vote-hungry politicians. Vice presidential nominee John Edwards, for instance, used Stewart's Emmy-winning show to announce his candidacy. And Sen. John Kerry yukked it up with Stewart in August. 
    The guest for this night's taping is Fox News commentator Bill O'Reilly. The show, however, is a few weeks before Reilly would be accused of sexual harassment by a female producer at Fox News. 
    Stewart acts as if he's intimidated by the big, bad O'Reilly. 
    "He's much larger than me," he says. "Please have my back." 
    With only a few minutes before taping, Stewart takes a few questions from the audience. It's in those fleeting moments where you get a great appreciation of just what makes Stewart and his show so popular. 
    Without the aid of cue cards or a script, Stewart does what only truly gifted performers can do - think quickly and be funny. 
    Someone asks him why he co-wrote the bestselling America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction, a faux government textbook. 
    "I'm Jewish and Jews control the media," he says. 
    Next question. 
    One woman talks about the joys of blogging. Stewart rolls his eyes. 
    "Sounds like a crack problem," he says. "I don't know what you just said." 
    Another person wants to know why the letters on the TeleprompTer are so big. 
    "I can't read and the show is done phonetically," Stewart responds quickly. 
    
    
    It's easy to miss The Daily Show's West 54th Street headquarters/studio - a mere four blocks from my old high school, by the way - because it's inside a nondescript, two-story, burgundy-brick building. 
    30 Rock, it's not. A tiny blue awning that simply says The Daily Show with Jon Stewart is the only hint that an actual TV show studio exists inside. 
    It's two hours before showtime on a balmy fall afternoon. Folks are already starting to line up. 
    For the 20 or so fans waiting early, Jack McGee, the show's head of security, has a very important message. 
    "Anyone who has to use the restroom please line up in front," McGee says in a whispery, thick-as-mustard Noo Yawk accent. "Once you get inside, you won't be able to go." 
    McGee looks like an interesting character. He's tall and balding. His eyes dart around a lot, so you know he doesn't miss much. I learn McGee has been the head security guy since the days when snarky Craig Kilborn ran the place. 
    "I've only missed one week since I've been here," McGee says proudly. 
    I wonder how the audience for the show has changed over the years. 
    "In the beginning, it used to be older people," he says. "Today it's more or less people between 18 to 34. The kids today are more interested in politics than they used to be." 
    McGee looks like a no-nonsense kind of guy you don't mess with. A few Daily Show fans have found that out the hard way over the years. 
    "I've had to straighten people out when they find out they're not getting in," he says matter-of-factly. 
    Like how? 
    "I'd rather not discuss it, but they've been taken care of. You know, you get a couple of young kids who come in with a few drinks in 'em. Sometimes they get in and start acting up, go inside the bathroom and do some blow. But I catch 'em and take care of it."     

    If there was any doubt about Stewart's broad-based appeal, it's on full display today. 
    I see young women in eye-catching low-riders. Older, Wall Street-type guys in suits and ties. I see one lady in a wheelchair and two women journalists from Germany. I see hip Gen-Xers on $200 camera cellphones and kindly looking grandmothers who can remember when Jack Paar hosted The Tonight Show and when movie tickets cost $1. 
    Frances Helen Guest, 79, has been to The Daily Show twice and agrees with everything Stewart says. "He can really see through things and some of the shams that we're being fed," she says. "And I'm tired of the shams. I want a little truth to come out. I want somebody to see some of the things I see and Jon does that for me." 
    David Mulkins teaches high school social studies in New York City. He admits he never heard of Stewart's show until his students told him about it. Now he's hooked. 
    "I like the satire and I like the fact that he's always shooting down the sacred cows," says the 47-year-old Tennessee native. "In his satire he shows you the way the media, as well as public officials, mold the way we think and how they distort truths or even lie." 
    Joan Hervey, who lives in Plainsfield, N.J., says she waited 10 months to get her tickets after ordering them last winter. 
    "I thought they didn't like me," she says. "But I never forgot about it. Jon Stewart is one of the smartest people on TV and his commentators and writers are astute and really brilliant." 
    While Kristin Reisinger also thinks Stewart is smart, she appreciates his other attributes as well. 
    "He's kinda sexy," the 32-year-old Reisinger says, smiling devilishly. "This is a good way for me to start out my birthday weekend." 
    At around 20 minutes to 6, Terri Abrahams, The Daily Show's brassy audience coordinator, comes out to tell everyone they can't use cellphones, pagers or flash photography once inside the studio. 
    She adds that no one should even think about asking for a picture with Stewart or an autograph from him. 
    The crowd groans disapprovingly. 
    "Upper lip, sweetie, upper lip," Abrahams says to one woman. "Don't make me hurt you inside the studio." 
    
    Back inside that raucous studio, I'm sitting next to a bald guy named Dale. He won't tell me his last name. I do know he's 30, from Vancouver and a stand-up comic. 
    He says he likes Stewart comedic point of view. 
    "He doesn't just tell jokes," Dale says. "There's substance to what he's talking about." 
    Does Dale think he can be the next Jon Stewart? 
    "In my dreams," he says, laughing. 
    All Dale wants to do today is "absorb and learn." 
    After chatting with O'Reilly about everything from the war in Iraq to bongs in the green room, Stewart tells Mr. Fox News Star during a commercial break that he always finds him "interesting and surprising." 
    At the time, I'm sure Stewart didn't know how prophetic those words would be. 
    It's 7:30 p.m. The show is over and Stewart thanks everyone for coming. But before the crowd can head for the exits, a production guy starts whispering in Stewart's ear. 
    Here comes an announcement. 
    "We have one extra thing to do because I did something wrong," Stewart says sadly. "It'll only take a few hours. I hope you brought a sandwich." 
    Stewart, of course, is kidding. 
    And that's no surprise coming from TV's savviest lampooner. 
    

Monsters, aliens, deformed freaks...the 5 best 'X-Files' episodes ever

In honor of Fox announcing on Tuesday that The X-Files -- TV's best sci-fi drama ever -- will return as a limited, six-episode series (yay for me!!!!), here's a look at my top five episodes during the show's memorable nine-year run.

1. "SQUEEZE" 
The story: A liver-eating serial killer (Eugene Victor Tooms) is on the loose after a 30-year hibernation. 
Why it's a classic: The X-Files boasted many unforgettable genetic mutants, but none of 'em were more memorable than the soft-spoken Tooms (a superbly cast Doug Hutchison) who exudes a chilling menace without uttering a word. Remains the show's best stand-alone monster episode. 

2. "HOME"
The story: The Peacocks, a hideously deformed family big on inbreeding, goes on a murderous rampage in their idyllic hometown.
Why it's a classic: The most intense -- and frightening -- X-Files episode ever. It was so intense, Fox initially refused to repeat it. 

3. "ICE" 
The story: FBI agents Fox Mulder (David Duchovny) and Dana Scully (Gillian Anderson) are trapped in a remote Alaskan outpost...with a worm-like parasitic life form. 
Why it's a classic: Yeah, I know, the episode is basically a TV version of John Carpenter's The Thing, but it's still claustrophobic and wonderfully creepy. 

4. "PILOT" 
The story: The one that started it all. Scully, a low-key medical doctor is teamed with "Spooky" Mulder, a dry-witted UFO believer, to debunk Mulder's out there paranormal theories.
Why it's a classic: Brilliantly sets up the dense mythology to follow in upcoming seasons and instantly showcases the palpable chemistry between Mulder and Scully. Can't forget a then silent Cigarette-Smoking Man (William B. Davis) intensely puffing away in a cameo appearance. 

5. "MUSINGS OF A CIGARETTE SMOKING MAN"
The story: We learn more about the mysterious CSM, the sinister government figure who often keeps our intrepid agents from uncovering the truth about alien existence.
Why it's a classic: The brilliantly penned episode by Glenn Morgan peels back the layers of CSM's character, who we learn was a failed novelist and who grew up in several orphanages after his communist spy father was executed and his mom died of cancer. Perhaps that explains why he killed JFK and framed Lee Harvey Oswald for it.

'The X-Files' gearing up for another run

The Truth Is Still Out There -- and could be coming back soon.

According to a report on TV Wise's website, Fox is close to inking a deal to bring back The X-Files, one of television's best dramas ever.

Stars David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson are reportedly on board to reprise their roles as flashlight-wielding FBI agents, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.

For nine seasons, The X-Files was an intoxicating mix of murky government conspiracies, scary monsters and sinister aliens. The X-Files came along at an auspicious time with The Cold War just ending. People needed a new boogeyman, something to fear, and The X-Files provided it.

Series creator Chris Carter understood that a show featuring substance and style could be tough to beat. Not only was The X-Files an extremely intelligent series, it looked like a $100 million feature film. No show, for example, has ever made the woods appear so foreboding. Or the simple sight of flashlights piercing the darkness so hypnotic.

The X-Files was one of those rare series where paying attention wasn't just important, but essential.

Yet, that didn't guarantee you'd always understand what was going on. Like any good soap opera, The X-Files always raised more questions than it actually answered. That tactic, however, led to its ultimate demise as viewers -- including myself -- grew weary of the show's deliberate plotting and glacial parceling  of clues.

Still, after the series went off the air in 2002 as it limped to the finish line, I was sad to see Mulder and Scully put down their flashlights for good. That awful 2008 film, The X-Files: I Want To Believe had me wishing they kept those flashlights locked away.

But after such a long hiatus, I'm ready for The Truth to not just be out there, but to come back to my living room as well.

'Gotham's' Jada Pinkett Smith says she won't be back for a second season

So, Jada Pinkett Smith says she's not returning for a second season on the hit Fox drama, Gotham.

That'll be our loss since Smith plays roughneck gangsta Fish Mooney as a deliciously fiendish scene chewer who could easily have been the star of the show. I mean, you don't see many characters willing to scoop their own eye out with a spoon just to save their own hide.

Fish is badass personified, a take charge chick who can wax poetic like Maya Angelou one moment, then slit someone's throat the next. She makes Taraji P. Henson's hood rat Cookie on Empire look like a church-going Girl Scout.

Smith made the announcement today on Live With Kelly and Michael, but she was pretty coy about her leaving, saying she didn't "think" she would be back because she only signed on the show for one season.

In a statement the producers would only say, "Fish Mooney's storyline takes a lot of interesting twists and turns into the finale of season one of 'Gotham.'"

All of this, of course, could be a well calculated ploy by Smith to squeeze more money out of the producers.

That's definitely something Fish would do. And, if the producers didn't give her a raise, well, let's just say they would probably be resting at the bottom of the ocean...as Fish food.

My time on 'The Daily Show'...OK, not on the show, but in the audience

After a stellar 16-year run, Jon Stewart signs off for good from The Daily Show tonight. Late night television won't be the same without his snarkiness and blade-sharp sense of humor,

Stewart leaving took me back to 2004 when I got a chance to hang out at The Daily Show for a day when I was the television critic for The Palm Beach Post. The fun I had that day is the same fun and laughs viewers have been having for years watching Stewart skewer the news like no one can.

Here's that story....

 "Let me hear you make some noise!!!!" 
    The 100 giddy audience members on the shoebox-sized set of the The Daily Show with Jon Stewart are more than happy to oblige as they scream, wave, yelp and pump their fists in wide-eyed delight. 
    But Paul Mercurio, the show's hyper warm-up man, isn't impressed. 
    "Show some more enthusiasm," he shouts to the crowd as a disc jockey named Rocky spins deafening heavy metal jams. "I need you to blow the roof off this joint." 
    It's 6:20 p.m. - 10 minutes before Mr. Fake Newsman emerges to say hello to the crowd, sit behind the anchor desk and host what has become TV's most popular - and funniest - satirical news program. 
    For now, however, the crowd belongs to Mercurio. When he spots a conservatively dressed older man, for instance, Mercurio cracks, "How about a hand for (Gilligan Island's) Thurston Howell III." 
    He then goes on to poke fun at Puerto Ricans, attorneys, nuns, an overly excited guy from Uruguay and even Stewart. 
    "Jon is a little (guy)," Mercurio sniffs. "You can kick his a--. But don't stare. He's very insecure." 
    It's 6:30 p.m. That means Mercurio's time is up. Nobody trekked to The Daily Show's midtown Manhattan studios to see some unknown warm-up guy. 
    When Stewart, looking very Ted Koppel-like in a dark suit, gray shirt and striped tie, walks on stage, the audience stands and cheers wildly. He sheepishly pretends not to know what all the fuss is about. 
    "I don't care for this program and I don't watch it," he says sternly. "It's crass and puerile." 
    But we all know nothing could be farther from the truth. 
    Comedy Central's Daily Show is the hot button show of a divisive political season. Which is why viewership is up 25 percent from this time last year. During the week of the Republican National Convention, The Daily Show averaged 1.4 million viewers. And when the show aired live after the first presidential debate, a whopping 2.4 million viewers tuned in - the most in the show's eight-year history. 
    Amazingly, The Daily Show has become a key venue for vote-hungry politicians. Vice presidential nominee John Edwards, for instance, used Stewart's Emmy-winning show to announce his candidacy. And Sen. John Kerry yukked it up with Stewart in August. 
    The guest for this night's taping is Fox News commentator Bill O'Reilly. The show, however, is a few weeks before Reilly would be accused of sexual harassment by a female producer at Fox News. 
    Stewart acts as if he's intimidated by the big, bad O'Reilly. 
    "He's much larger than me," he says. "Please have my back." 
    With only a few minutes before taping, Stewart takes a few questions from the audience. It's in those fleeting moments where you get a great appreciation of just what makes Stewart and his show so popular. 
    Without the aid of cue cards or a script, Stewart does what only truly gifted performers can do - think quickly and be funny. 
    Someone asks him why he co-wrote the bestselling America (The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction, a faux government textbook. 
    "I'm Jewish and Jews control the media," he says. 
    Next question. 
    One woman talks about the joys of blogging. Stewart rolls his eyes. 
    "Sounds like a crack problem," he says. "I don't know what you just said." 
    Another person wants to know why the letters on the TeleprompTer are so big. 
    "I can't read and the show is done phonetically," Stewart responds quickly. 
    
    
    It's easy to miss The Daily Show's West 54th Street headquarters/studio - a mere four blocks from my old high school, by the way - because it's inside a nondescript, two-story, burgundy-brick building. 
    30 Rock, it's not. A tiny blue awning that simply says The Daily Show with Jon Stewart is the only hint that an actual TV show studio exists inside. 
    It's two hours before showtime on a balmy fall afternoon. Folks are already starting to line up. 
    For the 20 or so fans waiting early, Jack McGee, the show's head of security, has a very important message. 
    "Anyone who has to use the restroom please line up in front," McGee says in a whispery, thick-as-mustard Noo Yawk accent. "Once you get inside, you won't be able to go." 
    McGee looks like an interesting character. He's tall and balding. His eyes dart around a lot, so you know he doesn't miss much. I learn McGee has been the head security guy since the days when snarky Craig Kilborn ran the place. 
    "I've only missed one week since I've been here," McGee says proudly. 
    I wonder how the audience for the show has changed over the years. 
    "In the beginning, it used to be older people," he says. "Today it's more or less people between 18 to 34. The kids today are more interested in politics than they used to be." 
    McGee looks like a no-nonsense kind of guy you don't mess with. A few Daily Show fans have found that out the hard way over the years. 
    "I've had to straighten people out when they find out they're not getting in," he says matter-of-factly. 
    Like how? 
    "I'd rather not discuss it, but they've been taken care of. You know, you get a couple of young kids who come in with a few drinks in 'em. Sometimes they get in and start acting up, go inside the bathroom and do some blow. But I catch 'em and take care of it."     

    If there was any doubt about Stewart's broad-based appeal, it's on full display today. 
    I see young women in eye-catching low-riders. Older, Wall Street-type guys in suits and ties. I see one lady in a wheelchair and two women journalists from Germany. I see hip Gen-Xers on $200 camera cellphones and kindly looking grandmothers who can remember when Jack Paar hosted The Tonight Show and when movie tickets cost $1. 
    Frances Helen Guest, 79, has been to The Daily Show twice and agrees with everything Stewart says. "He can really see through things and some of the shams that we're being fed," she says. "And I'm tired of the shams. I want a little truth to come out. I want somebody to see some of the things I see and Jon does that for me." 
    David Mulkins teaches high school social studies in New York City. He admits he never heard of Stewart's show until his students told him about it. Now he's hooked. 
    "I like the satire and I like the fact that he's always shooting down the sacred cows," says the 47-year-old Tennessee native. "In his satire he shows you the way the media, as well as public officials, mold the way we think and how they distort truths or even lie." 
    Joan Hervey, who lives in Plainsfield, N.J., says she waited 10 months to get her tickets after ordering them last winter. 
    "I thought they didn't like me," she says. "But I never forgot about it. Jon Stewart is one of the smartest people on TV and his commentators and writers are astute and really brilliant." 
    While Kristin Reisinger also thinks Stewart is smart, she appreciates his other attributes as well. 
    "He's kinda sexy," the 32-year-old Reisinger says, smiling devilishly. "This is a good way for me to start out my birthday weekend." 
    At around 20 minutes to 6, Terri Abrahams, The Daily Show's brassy audience coordinator, comes out to tell everyone they can't use cellphones, pagers or flash photography once inside the studio. 
    She adds that no one should even think about asking for a picture with Stewart or an autograph from him. 
    The crowd groans disapprovingly. 
    "Upper lip, sweetie, upper lip," Abrahams says to one woman. "Don't make me hurt you inside the studio." 
    
    Back inside that raucous studio, I'm sitting next to a bald guy named Dale. He won't tell me his last name. I do know he's 30, from Vancouver and a stand-up comic. 
    He says he likes Stewart comedic point of view. 
    "He doesn't just tell jokes," Dale says. "There's substance to what he's talking about." 
    Does Dale think he can be the next Jon Stewart? 
    "In my dreams," he says, laughing. 
    All Dale wants to do today is "absorb and learn." 
    After chatting with O'Reilly about everything from the war in Iraq to bongs in the green room, Stewart tells Mr. Fox News Star during a commercial break that he always finds him "interesting and surprising." 
    At the time, I'm sure Stewart didn't know how prophetic those words would be. 
    It's 7:30 p.m. The show is over and Stewart thanks everyone for coming. But before the crowd can head for the exits, a production guy starts whispering in Stewart's ear. 
    Here comes an announcement. 
    "We have one extra thing to do because I did something wrong," Stewart says sadly. "It'll only take a few hours. I hope you brought a sandwich." 
    Stewart, of course, is kidding. 
    And that's no surprise coming from TV's savviest lampooner. 
    

Why Justin Bieber getting roasted on Comedy Central is a smart career move

So, reportedly Bad Little Boy Justin Bieber will be the next celeb Comedy Central roasts.

Over the years, roasters have zinged everyone from Donald Trump to Flavor Flav. But The Biebs has to be one of the most inviting targets ever. Jeff Ross is salivating so much, there's probably a pool of drool in his front yard.

Where to start?

The Biebs' brushes with the law? Those ridiculous Calvin Klein ads? The hair? The tats? The music? The monkey he ditched in Germany?

Roasters may have too much material. Comedy Central should consider making a two-part special.

Give the Biebs credit, though. Apparently, he's been begging to be roasted for years and is more than game for being the butt of cruel jokes judging by the series of tweets he sent today.

The Biebs had done a lot of dumb things in his 20 years. So have a lot of other 20-year-olds. Thing is, The Biebs has had to grow up on a public stage, in front of millions of people. Not an easy thing to do.

Despite all the dumb stuff, getting roasted on Comedy Central could be one of the smartest things The Biebs has done.

Appearing as a good sport on national TV all the while get toasted and roasted can't hurt album sales, right?