Comedy
Dead Boy Detectives
Dead Boy Detectives targets teens in style and story. But it comes with very adult, problematic content.
Not everyone has a secret meth operation. Or is a forensics specialist who moonlights as a serial killer. Or moons over ageless and lovelorn vampires. Sure, maybe most folks have a secret or two lurking in the ol’ hall closet, but perhaps not all involve massive felonies or eternal damnation—even in the weird wide world of television.
Welcome to Cedar Cove, a quiet hamlet located in the comforting district of the Hallmark network. Here, power struggles are over old lighthouses, not iron thrones. When people date, their first conversations are about where to eat—not what to do if one of them turns into a zombie or werewolf. Based on a series of books written by Debbie Macomber, Cedar Cove is a low-key yet competent series anchored by actress Andie MacDowell. If television is comfort food, this is its homemade meatloaf.
Which is not to say you should eat red meat at every meal. Judge Olivia Lockhart, a divorcee who recently lost her son, serves as the Cove’s grounded center. She’s dating local newspaper reporter Jack Griffith, a recovering alcoholic with a bit of a past. Olivia’s daughter, Justine, seems perpetually entangled in relationships with one of the town’s many tortured beaus. Grace, Olivia’s best friend and a topnotch librarian, is seeing local rancher Cliff, and—
Well, you get the idea. Not only do Cedar Cove residents love their soapy town, but they love one another, sometimes two or three at a time—but not really like that. It is those love matches, triangles and rhombuses that keep things in this northwestern village … interesting?
Most of the time the sexual stuff is kept behind closed doors, away from the camera. And while the Cove’s dastardly villains scheme and connive their way into creating uncomfortable situations for decent folk, thrown punches are about as far as things go down the violence track. Bad language is infrequent as well. And Jack’s (mostly) successful struggle with alcoholism reminds us of the not-so-subtle dangers of drinking to excess.
Paul, a new town lawyer, gets “friendly” with Olivia, cozying up to her and flirting by way of teaching her how to hit a golf ball. Boyfriend Jack shrugs off the other guy’s interest with, “It doesn’t matter if he’s up to something. She’s up to nothing.” Maybe that’s ’cause Jack’s also getting chummy with a woman named Alex? Meanwhile, Grace and Cliff apparently break up, and Olivia’s brother Will has plans to demolish the family home.
Characters drink wine and beer. Jack and Olivia talk about a past bender of his and how, eventually, she’ll have to learn to trust him again. Jack breaks through Alex’s office door after her conniving boss, Warren, changed the lock. Warren’s mysterious wife arrives in Cedar Cove, looking for a divorce. Grace laments a failed marriage in her own past. We hear “h—” uttered twice, along with one use of “OMG.”
“One Day at a Time”
On the day of Luke’s assault trial hearing, Olivia must tangle with two newcomers: Rebecca, a district attorney whose career ambitions may destroy the life of a PTSD sufferer; and Jeri, Jack’s old friend, newspaper colleague and ex-wife. Justine, meanwhile, struggles with her feelings for Luke. Grace doesn’t know how to respond to Cliff’s confession of love. And Cecilia wonders whether to stop taking birth control despite her husband’s wishes to remain childless.
Jeri tells Olivia that she and Jack married in Las Vegas on a whim. She also details Jack’s serious drinking problem. While Jeri’s glad that Jack’s sober now, she cautions Olivia that alcoholism is always built on lies. Then she sends Jack a bottle of vodka. Justine pours herself some wine. Olivia drinks as well.
There’s talk of living “young and free” while you still can. And when Eric tells Rebecca, “You Kansas girls sure are friendly,” she winks back with, “You have no idea!” Grace and Cliff kiss (but she rejects his offer of cohabitation). Luke kisses Justine (who’s going out with someone else) and is slapped for his presumption. A secret admirer sends a married woman flowers.
There’s one use of “d–mmit.”
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
Dead Boy Detectives targets teens in style and story. But it comes with very adult, problematic content.
An elf mage contemplates on connection and regret as she watches her human friends grow old and pass away.
