Thursday, February 22, 2007

I CRASHED MY GRANDMA'S CAR AND NOW LANDRY DRIVES ME AROUND: At some point I'll stop gushing over Friday Night Lights, but not yet. What I noticed the most about this week -- aside from the usual attention to character growth and the unusual ability to use Tyra to service three separate plots -- was the way the show packed a lot of meaning into very small things. I liked the weirdly Hockney-ish establishing shots and the mask-like fret Coach Taylor slips on when he can't help the people he cares about, but most of all I loved Tyra's ambiguous glance at Lyla in the church parking lot, which conveyed terror, sympathy, and contempt all at once while omitting (at least to me) the most obvious choice, embarrassment.

The leg wrestling was nice too.

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