Shark Jumping

Infamous season 6 looms for West Wing

After a long summer of waiting, The West Wing is finally back tonight!

Who am I kidding? I almost forgot about the show over the summer, and if it weren't on my calendar for tonight, I might have forgotten to watch it. In fact, I'll probably tape it so I don't miss any of the Red Sox game. Seeing them possibly achieve the greatest comeback in sports history against the evil Yankees will be far sweeter than whatever John Wells has cooked up for tonight. Sorry, NBC. Your strategy of running last year's finale right before this year's premiere isn't going to work for me. I remember last year's finale, and it wasn't very good. (So not good, in fact, that it didn't even interrupt last May's stream of consciousness style blogging about American Idol.)

I still care about the characters, but as the article above points out, there's little reason to believe that things will get better from here. Six years in, most shows are flailing. Check out the lead Linda Holmes puts on her story:

The dreaded sixth season is an awkward stage in the life of a TV drama. The show is aging. Original dynamics have played themselves out; the first round of new characters brought in to replace the first few original characters to bolt have probably already been rejected by the once faithful, now bitter fan base; the writers who wrote the Emmy-nominated pilot have moved on. Season 6 is the time to start panicking.

Start? I've been panicking since they said Rob Lowe was leaving. And when Sorkin left? Who wouldn't have panicked then? Anyhow, Holmes knows why we watch--and what we fear:

This is still a show, and particularly a cast, capable of being remarkable. When "West Wing" isn't lecturing, or being inordinately pleased with itself, or in some other way showing off, it can be a lot of fun. Unfortunately, recent seasons do not offer large helpings of hope for this one.

Like I said, I'll watch tonight, but hope? I've got about as much hope for the show as Charlie has of ever actually marrying Zoe. Go ahead, Wells: Prove me wrong.