Skip Navigation

TV Reviews

 
MPAA Rating
Genre
Drama
Cast
Debra Messing as Julia Houston; Jack Davenport as Derek Wills; Katharine McPhee as Karen Cartwright; Christian Borle as Tom Levitt; Megan Hilty as Ivy Lynn; Raza Jaffrey as Dev Sundaram; Jaime Cepero as Ellis Tancharoen; Anjelica Huston as Eileen Rand; Brian d'Arcy James as Frank Houston
Channel
NBC
Reviewer
Paul Asay with Bob Hoose

Smash

There's a broken heart for every light on Broadway. So goes the old song. And NBC's musical drama Smash seems bent on proving the point.

On the surface, Smash bears some passing resemblance to Glee, its popular musical compatriot on Fox. But aside from the fact that both shows' leads sometimes burst into song with little provocation, not much else sticks once you get into the middle of it.

Glee resides in a surreal high school landscape where one-liners sprout like dandelions, Sue Sylvester prowls the halls like a Vaudeville villain and feisty teens search for their oh-so-special voices, on and off the stage. Smash is an older, arguably wiser show populated by more jaded characters. Dreams still can come true, it tells us … but then it asks, are they worth it?

Enter Karen Cartwright, a beautiful and talented woman hailing from the heartland. She was the talk of her small Iowa town when she came to the Great White Way to make it big—much to the chagrin of her parents. When they visit her in New York and meet at a swanky restaurant, it takes all of 30 seconds before Mom and Dad begin asking—ever so gently—whether she might be better off back home.

"We worry," Mrs. Cartwright says. "Of course we worry."

Karen, holding back an eye roll as best she can, stresses how determined she is to stick it out here. She may be working as a waitress, but there are better things around the corner.

"Sometimes dreams are hard," she says.

Her father looks across the table at her. He says, "Sometimes, sweetie, dreams just don't mix with reality."

At every turn, Smash seems determined to show us the hard truths that hide behind Broadway's shimmering shield. Karen's dreams may come true—but only if she crushes the dreams of Ivy, another talented wannabe star. Karen's dreams may come true, but only if she makes personal sacrifices. Karen's dreams may come true, but only if the play's creators and its director don't kill each other first, and if the financier doesn't go belly-up, and …

If Glee tells us that all we really need is a song in our hearts, Smash insists that no song—no matter how pretty it is, no matter how fervently sung—will pay the electrical bill unless some big producer likes it. Thus, Smash sets up a grittier but more realistic narrative: If Glee uses stardom as a form of salvation, Smash insists that celebrity and happiness don't necessarily go hand-in-hand. As onscreen playwright Tom Levitt says, "We are in an industry that's lousy with talent. Is it too much to ask for a little kindness too?"

But kindness isn't something this show excels at, especially when it comes to how it treats its audience. Sex is a subject that has a huge presence here—from racy, suggestive dance numbers to premarital rolls in the hay to the crimes of the casting couch. Heterosexual and homosexual relationships (and the specific sexual interludes that accompnay them) get lots of screen time and are frequently talked about.

Smash
isn't interested in teen sex the way Glee is. But it's certainly consumed with grownup relationships, which are simply assumed to be sexual.

Episode Reviews

"Let's Be Bad"

This episode takes its title to heart and gets down and dirty on a variety of fronts. The few moments spent in the wiggle-and-jiggle Marilyn show find Ivy struggling with her bombshell trill in a pill-popping musical routine. So Derek asks Karen to show Ivy how to sing. Ouch! Later, the blonde diva verbally slaps Karen down in retaliation.

Ivy and others get drunk before she marches up and sleeps with the director again. (As if to show him a thing or two!) And then Julia gives into her urges, kissing ex-boyfriend Michael while hubby is out of town. Meanwhile, Tom beds a new boyfriend, ending up naked in the sheets with him while discussing just how un-wow-worthy their first sexual tryst was.

For her mirror (and the camera, of course) Karen strips to bra and panties while grinding out a stripper-pole rendition of "It's a Man's World" to prove she's sexy too. Then she packs her smolder into a revealing dress to help her boyfriend out at a political shindig … before straddling him in the limo on the way back home.

Julia's son gets picked up for smoking marijuana.

"Pilot"

Karen and Ivy square off as the two favorites for the plum role of Marilyn Monroe in a new musical. After Karen beds live-in boyfriend Dev (the two are shown in foreplay and later in bed together, apparently naked), she's called in for some private work with director Derek Wills. She goes innocently, but it's clear he's angling for more. Karen proceeds to tease him, showing off her bra and crawling seductively onto his lap. Then she shuts him down with, "Not gonna happen."

Tom ogles his new assistant, and he and business partner Julia debate whether he's gay or not—the assistant, that is. Tom's sexual choices have already been well established. The director spits, "Gay men p‑‑‑ me off," and is promptly told, "That's an unfortunate position to take in the American theater." Meanwhile, allusions to sex range from mysterious to vivid gutter talk. Onstage, a sexually charged baseball-themed number features a female actress pressing her (costume-clad) breasts and body against the faces of male dancers. And the song gives us even more allusions to sex and sexual body parts.

Folks drink wine. God's name is misused a handful of time. On the plus side, part of the plot revolves around how excessive devotion to work can hurt family.

More