HARDCORE PAWN, Episode Twelve: And You'll Go to Bed Without Your Supper, Too!

"In the heart of Detroit's 8 Mile lies the city's biggest and baddest pawn shop...."

I am Michiganian by birth, Detroiter by heart. I spent more than 30 years in the Automotive Capital of Earth, became a man and a professional there, so shows that are set in Detroit or attempt to capture a slice of life in the Motor City are especially dear to me.

Hardcore Pawn is an amazingly successful, largely unsung Detroit TV wonder. Shot inside the now-iconic American Jewelry and Loan on Eight Mile Road, Hardcore Pawn is truTV's most consistently successful series: its season seven premiere last March 26 drew the cable channel's largest audience ever in the coveted demo of adults 18-49. It's basic cable's No. 1 unscripted program in its 9 p.m. (EST) Tuesday time slot, spawned a spinoff series in Hardcore Pawn: Chicago and, if it weren't for the unbelievably whacked-out string of belligerent, ignorant, foulmouthed customers it spotlights, would be a continuing source of pride for Detroiters.

Moreover, I have grown to know series stars Les and Seth Gold and Ashley Gold Broad personally. I've written several stories on the family-owned business, including this feature for HOUR Detroit magazine. I've even patronized the place: the wristwatch I wear every day was purchased at American Jewelry and Loan. So for its lucky seventh season, I've selected Hardcore Pawn as a series to review here on a weekly basis. Here's a recap of Episode Twelve, aired on July 2:

Last week we bemoaned the lackluster quality of Episode 11, which we'll call "Ashley's 'Stay Out of My Deals, Seth – or Else!" show.  I even suggested that last week might have been the disposable, sacrificial-lamb episode used to set the stage for some Big Bang spectacular to follow.

Well, I don't like to brag when I'm right, but I'm so seldom right that please allow me to say: BOY, WAS I RIGHT!

Like the opposite side of the same Gold coin, Episode 12 was everything Episode 11 was not: roundly entertaining, unpredictable and unusually visceral. It featured extremely loud and obnoxious customers (even for Hardcore Pawn), a surprising act of charity and a shocking (does that word get used too often in reality TV?) final act. There actually were "firsts" in this episode, and for a series that's been around seven seasons, that's saying something.

Even the weekly bickering between Ashley and Seth that is the one constant of this series, even though you know it's greatly intensified for the sake of the camera (you do know that, right?), seemed more vehement, more personal – more real – this time around.

The episode touched upon two great ills of our present-day society: the woeful lack of self-esteem among many of today's young women, like the show's first customer who demanded $1,500 for a sack of baseball cards so she could bail her "baby daddy" out of jail, convinced he loves her because she was the first of his many woman he called for money (Dr. Phil should have been in line right behind her); and fears over our economy and soaring gas prices, evidenced by the fellow who wanted to sell his circular saw just for cash to fill up his tank.

Ashley is negotiating each deal and Seth is certain she's in over her head with both, her knowledge of sports memorabilia and power tools not being exactly profound. The first deal blows up when the customer refuses to take less money, eventually mooning security chief Byron after he shows her the door. (Do these people act like this at Walmart, too?) The second, although it appears to progressing smoothly, prompts Seth to jump in and "rescue" it, over Ashley's repeated protests of, "I got this...I got this."

And she believed she did. "I had the saw under control," she screamed, bursting into Seth's office after the deal was completed.

"When have you had anything under control?" Seth mocked, reminding her of two deals from the previous week, for gold and home repair materials, that had their issues.

"I don't need your help!" she steamed. "I need you to stay out of my business! I'm warning you."

Ooooh, a threat. Or foreshadowing, depending on your definition. Les commented that he's sick of watching his offspring bickering like three-year-olds, which may be an insult to three-year-olds everywhere. 

Then came one of the coolest moments in Hardcore Pawn history. A gentleman arrived from a small nonprofit museum in Howell and said he has an "insane" hobby of collecting nautical antiques. He showed Les an 1875 U.S. Lighthouse Service fog signal, a device most of us (including Les) never knew existed. It's a wooden box with a hand crank atop it which, when taken to the farthest point of shore and activated, makes a droning, gawdawful noise. Les made the mistake of asking if it works, and the seller was only too happy to demonstrate – in the middle of the showroom.

Les wants it. Badly. So badly that when the two can't come to terms between the owner's $750 lowest price and Les's $500 counteroffer and the man turned to walk out, Les chased him down before he could reach the door. How about $550, Les proposed.

Instead, the seller made a startling proposal. "I know you have a nonprofit you care about," he said. (Actually Les has a few, including Detroit's Heat and Warmth Fund, or THAW.) "Give me the $750 and I will turn around and donate it to your nonprofit."

'You two – take a hike!' Les demands. (Turner: Mark Hill)

Les, seldom one at a loss for words, is nearly knocked speechless. "He made an offer that even I can't refuse," he marveled.

You'd prefer to leave a tender moment alone, but the good feelings and bonhomie were quickly shattered by an earsplitting, frustrated customer who erupts after claiming she'd waited in line over two hours. Much to Ashley's delight, Seth's calm explanations to the woman appeared to have no effect whatsoever, so Ashley felt obligated to step into this "deal."

This obscene, boorish babe will be remembered for several things: placing the blame on American Jewelry and Loan for not informing her earlier when Ashley discovered she'd been standing in the wrong line for two hours, and loudly clapping her hands in Ashley's face, gospel revival style, while ordering her to "Begone!" as their confrontation heated up. (Ashley retaliated by clapping her hands in the same manner; they nearly had a clapping slap-off.)

But it was the string of insults she spewed as she was led to the exit that will resound for some time. "You're Daddy's Girl, b***h!" she hurled. "Your brother don't even like you, ho!"

And to Les, once she's outside: "That's your daughter?" she charged."You should have slapped that b***h hefore the doctor did when she came out!" Not exactly original material, but inventive for the moment. (And significant, as one of the rare scenes where a customer tacitly acknowledges knowing the Golds from the show. Often customers act as if the Golds are simply pawn shop proprietors they've never seen before, which at this stage of the game in Detroit seems a bit preposterous.)

Ah, but the coup de grace of this episode, which led to a historic first for the show, was yet to come. A customer named Scott came in with an autographed Detroit Tigers baseball from 1970 that he received through an inheritance. He's not from Detroit so the ball has no significance to him, and he needed to sell it to finance a trip to Puerto Rico. Naturally, Ashley handled the transaction. Just as naturally, Seth was certain she'd botch things up.

"What do you know about baseball?' Seth demanded. "A lot," Ashley replied. They commenced offering conflicting prices for the ball, to the point where Scott felt compelled to ask, "Who am I negotiating here with?"

The bidding war then escalated into a vicious argument over how much Ashley knows about baseball, so loud that Les cranked up the antique fog machine he purchased earlier to try and quiet them down!

Scott was told to shut up in the middle of his own deal, and he'd seen enough. "I'll take my business elsewhere," he said, snatching back his baseball. "You two can finish this up on your own time. I thought you were professional and tactful. Evidently I was mistaken."

Ouch! An articulate customer putdown. And Les was livid! He doesn't have many rules, but arguing in public in front of a customer and blowing a deal rank at the top.

"I have never been more embarrassed of my children than I am at this moment!" he bellowed, then did the unimaginable: Les sends both his kids home immediately, warning them not to return until their attitudes improve and their bickering ceases. If they're going to act like children, he will treat them as such! I've never seen that take place before, veteran Hardcore Pawn viewers, have you?

And did you catch the very slight wince of discomfort Les displayed at the end of the episode? A stress-induced attack, perhaps? What a great little moment of setting the stage for next week's show! Let's hope there are no ambulances in the parking lot...not even for sale.

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Nothing in these 30 minutes worth upsetting the delicate balance of our Top 5 Most Outrageous Hardcore Pawn Customer Ejections of the season. So they remain the same, and the same is as follows: 

5. The "running naked guy" from Episode Ten who broke a floor lamp on the AJ&L sales floor, then tried to blame security chief Byron for the damage. After Byron responded to his accusation by showing him the door, he vented his outrage by stripping off his clothes and dashing au naturel around the store's parking lot yelling, "I make you horny bitches." A tough act to follow – in more ways than one.

4. The sentimental fool from Episode One who tried to pawn one of his late grandmother's rings in the same breath he mourned her recent death. His verbal and physical assault on Ashley sparked Les's rage, because NOBODY insults his daughter in his store. The confrontation brought Ashley to tears.

3. "DogMan," the tall computer genius with anger management issues in Episode Two who orders Les to retrieve the hard drive from his pawned PC and calls everybody "Dog." "Who let the dog out?" asked Les, who unleashed his first "MF" of the season. "Byron let the dog out!"

 

2. The belligerent, bare-butt bonehead from Episode Seven who pulled items off the shelves as Les looked on, then tried to sell Les's own merchandise back to him. When his scam was revealed, the ballsy burglar was dragged kicking to the exit – and his balls were about the only thing we didn't see as his jeans dropped to his ankles. "Time for your ass to be thrown out," Les ordered. "And what an ass that was."

And the returning champ among the three-fries-short-of-a-Happy-Meal crowd, still leader of the pack at No. 1:

The boy genius from Episode One who came in looking to buy a portable generator and asked, "It doesn't run on electricity, does it?" When he demanded to bring the generator to his home to test it out and was summarily refused, he got the Byron Bounce and ended up humping one of the tall front-door pylons on his way to the parking lot.

Well, he sure showed them something, didn't he?

The Sundance Channel Moves Smartly to 'RECTIFY' Itself

Rectify is a constant process of discovery.

Aden Young Amazes as Ex-Con Daniel Holden.

First you'll discover that this enthralling new semi-series, which bows at 9 p.m. EST Monday, April 22 with two back-to-back episodes, is on the Sundance Channel. You probably have Sundance on your cable system. You probably didn't know it. Or, you just figured the channel was way too elitist-snooty for you. But given that this is the first Sundance-owned original scripted series in its history (and it's really, really good), it's worth some determined channel surfing to find.

Shortly thereafter you'll realize that the six-episode show's premise – prisoner released from Death Row after almost two decades on the basis of new DNA evidence, facing re-entry into a strange and unfamiliar new world – only sounds like the storyline you've seen oh, maybe a kajillion times before. (Wasn't DNA part of the plot in The Shawshank Redemption? Les Misérables? White Heat?) The genius of Rectify is how it takes one of the most well-worn themes in all the dramatic repertoire and makes it feel multilayered, textured – well, remarkably fresh and new.

Part of that is due to the creative team behind Rectify: creator-writer Ray McKinnon, the Southern-fried actor (Sons of Anarchy, Deadwood) and standout independent filmmaker, whose Georgia upbringing allows him to fully translate the rhythms and psyche of his small-town characters; and executive producers Melissa Bernstein and Mark Johnson, the team behind Breaking Bad, looking for another visionary challenge in light of Walter White's impending departure.

The other part of Rectify's aura of originality is due to perhaps its most impressive discovery of all – Aden Young, who will deconstruct any notions you may hold about what a leading man should be. A Toronto-born Australian actor (exactly how does that happen?), Young may be remembered from the movie Killer Elite or the TV miniseries The Starter Wife, but this is unquestionably his breakthrough performance. He is Daniel Holden, the unremarkable Georgia boy convicted of brutally raping and killing his teenage girlfriend, thrust after 19 years back into a world he doesn't understand and never expected to live in again.

One might expect the character in such a script to either race through the streets of his hometown with blood in his eyes, vowing to wreak vengeance on everyone who done him wrong, or grab some drugs and a hooker and disappear into a cheap hotel. Daniel Holden does neither. His every movement and thought is so measured, so controlled, so internal. He has become, as Morgan Freeman's character "Red" Redding explains in Shawshank, "an institutional man," and everything in his bright, loud new world is as confusing as it is frightening. It's a role that easily could be overplayed by a miscast actor, but Young's totally restrained performance lands note-perfect at every turn.

Some celebration: Daniel and his sister-in-law, Tawney.

Daniel doesn't return to his tiny Georgia town to gloat, or even with the determination to begin his life anew. He simply has no place else to go. And the townsfolk, in particular his family, are equally befuddled: they never thought he'd survive Death Row, much less walk among them again. His mother, Janet (J. Smith Cameron), is thrilled, but conflicted; other family members stew over what he might take away from their lives, but his younger sister Amantha (Abigail Spencer, Oz the Great and Powerful, who's outstanding here), believes in Daniel and his innocence wholeheartedly and becomes his translator for modern society.

As Amantha drives him around town to see the sights (both of them), she can't help herself from saying things that seem inappropriate to a man recently released from prison. "That's gallows humor, huh?" she asks. "We call it 'lethal injection' humor," Daniel responds. "It's more humane...but not as funny."

What's really not funny is the angry throng of powerful men, led by Sen. Roland Foulkes (Michael O'Neill), formerly the prosecutor who put Daniel away, who are obsessed with throwing him behind bars again. And for the touch of class any potentially successful series needs, Hal Holbrook provides the opposition to the anti-Daniel forces as his original defense attorney, Rutherford Gaines.

Rarely does such a simple story encompass so many intriguing subplots. Will Daniel's own family turn against him? Will Foulkes and his law-enforcement cronies find a way to reverse the technicality that set him free? Can he return to the family business? Will some good ol' boy try to kill him? And, not coincidentally, did he do the crime?

Daniel Holden has a lot of dangerous waters to navigate, and I think I'm going to enjoy taking the journey with him. On our Big Glowing Box scale of 1-10 remotes, I'm giving Rectify a 9. Seeing an old tale told an interestingly new way in the copycat world of television is praiseworthy all by itself. But in this era when it seems every drama wants you to embrace the antihero, Aden Young is worth discovering as well.

HARDCORE PAWN Four: Happy 100th, Les! (Episodes, That Is!)

"In the heart of Detroit's 8 Mile lies the city's biggest and baddest pawn shop...."

I am Michiganian by birth, Detroiter by heart. I spent more than 30 years in the Automotive Capital of Earth, became a man and a professional there, so shows that are set in Detroit or attempt to capture a slice of life in the Motor City are especially dear to me.

Hardcore Pawn is an amazingly successful, largely unsung Detroit TV gem. Shot inside the now-iconic American Jewelry and Loan on Eight Mile Road, Hardcore Pawn is truTV's most consistently successful series: its season seven premiere last March 26 drew the cable channel's largest audience ever in the coveted demo of adults 18-49. It's basic cable's No. 1 unscripted program in its 9 p.m. (EST) Tuesday time slot, spawned a spinoff series in Hardcore Pawn: Chicago and, if it weren't for the unbelievably whacked-out string of belligerent, ignorant, foulmouthed customers it spotlights, would be a continuing source of pride for Detroiters.

Moreover, I have grown to know series stars Les and Seth Gold and Ashley Gold Broad personally. I've written several stories on the family-owned business, including this feature for HOUR Detroit magazine. I've even patronized the place: the wristwatch I wear every day was purchased at American Jewelry and Loan. So for its lucky seventh season, I selected Hardcore Pawn as a series to review here on a weekly basis. Here's a recap of Episode Four, the show's landmark 100th episode, aired April 16:

When I made reference to a glowingly positive feature on Hardcore Pawn last week in Variety magazine in connection with the series' milestone 100th episode, I was fascinated – but by no means surprised – by the tone of the messages I received in return.

The responses from folks who live in Detroit or have Motor City ties were stingingly consistent. They said, in effect, "I hate that flipping show, because it always portrays our city in such a negative manner."

I'd be the first one to agree that Hardcore Pawn may not be the Convention & Visitors Bureau's first choice for a promo reel extolling the wonders of Detroit. But I've enjoyed the series from its one-shot, do-or-die pilot telecast in 2009 to its official debut in August 2010 right up through Tuesday's historic episode, and you'd hard-pressed to find a bigger Detroit zealot than I am.

While I don't want to come off sounding like an HP apologist  – especially because the show certainly doesn't need one – I invite all naysayers to keep a few facts in mind:

• More than 3 million people, a pretty massive number for basic cable, routinely tune in to watch Hardcore Pawn every Tuesday at 9 p.m. EST, so there are viewers who find the program worthwhile.

• Television is one of America's purest forms of democracy. If Americans had cast their vote against the show simply by not watching it (you know, like they do with NBC series), it wouldn't have survived the first season.

• Many viewers have told me they enjoy Hardcore Pawn primarily not because of its stream of profanity, customer hijinks or bum's-rush store ejections, but because it presents a real family trying to operate a real business under challenging circumstances. It shows a father and his two offspring who clearly love each other despite all the bickering and disagreements. People relate to the Golds: They may have a dad like Les, or recognize relatives or friends in Ashley and Seth.

• It's a pawn shop: one would reasonably expect some, if not most, of its clientele to be a bit on the crude and irritable side. I mean, in theory nobody really wants to be there, right? Whenever they decide to do a reality show at the Detroit Athletic Club, expect the ambiance to be decidedly different. I think.

• Whether we like to admit it or not, Hardcore Pawn is a slice of Detroit in all its crass and untamed glory. Remembering a time my neighbor on the East Side bolted out of his front door, raced over to stand nose to nose, and threatened to punch or cut me because I had taken his on-street parking space, I'm not certain the show's confrontations are always trumped-up. HP might not be the Detroit reality from Bloomfield Hills or Rochester, but it's the reality in some parts of the region.

• And, believe it or not, Hardcore Pawn is an asset to the visitor's bureau. The show's establishing shots frequently show views of a glistening riverfront or attractive city landscapes. And I personally have met people who traveled to Detroit from as far away as Florida and Washington state just to see American Jewelry and Loan for themselves and maybe try to sell an item. It's become a tourist attraction! It's good for the local economy!

All that being said, the 100th episode – arriving after the hype of promo commercials that promised "100 times more (fill in the blank)," was a disappointment. The theme centered around an employee who devised his own side hustle to sell customers front-of-the-line privileges for a $3 tip at the door – causing havoc inside the store – and Ashley employing her detective skills to identify the culprit after Les and Seth walked away from the problem. But the concept seemed disjointed and slowly paced; the line-cutting didn't seem to spark the kind of wild-eyed outrage one might expect knowing American's typical customer base.

The family conflict, on the heels of the store's head of security being fired for theft and the resulting, who-can-we-trust employee searches that triggered a mass walkout in earlier episodes, was whether to fire Anton, the enterprising worker who dreamed up the tip-jar scam. In the end, compassion came from a most unexpected source.

The highlight of the half-hour was the appearance of an immaculately restored, 1947 replica of a green Vernor's ginger ale delivery truck that Les should have bought at any price (Vernor's is a symbol of Detroit, and the truck was sweet). But the laugh-out-loud moment occurred when a customer tried to sell his "I-Grow Laser Hair Growth System" – essentially, a heat lamp inside a goofy-looking silver helmet with suction cups and headphones – and Bobby, American Jewelry and Loan's follically-challenged employee, volunteered to try it on.

The device caused the top of Bobby's round dome to glow neon red.

"You look like a Christmas tree," Les observed.

"I look like a (bleep)," Bobby replied.

The kicker: the seller himself was bald. "Well, I didn't use the thing," he maintained. "I'm very happy being bald."

Now the impressive milestone has passed, the 100th episode is over and out. (Which means, by the way, that we may see Hardcore Pawn in reruns for the rest of our natural lives.) Mazel tov. Let's hope for a rebound on Episode 101.

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With no outrageous customer ejections in this episode (another glaring absence), the Top 5 American Jewelry and Loan store tossouts from last week remain unchanged. They are:

5. Josh, the Dallas doofus from Episode Three who demanded $500 for his worthless watch.

4. Patrick, the demented drum dealer from Up North, also in Episode Three, who declared, "Everybody knows Ashley from American Jewelry and Loan is a bitch!" Security chief Byron showed Patrick the door so quickly, Ashley had to chase him down in the parking lot to return his "antique" African drum.

3. The sentimental fool from Episode One who tried to pawn one of his late grandmother's rings in the same breath he mourns her recent death. His verbal and physical assault on Ashley sparked Les's rage, because NOBODY insults his daughter in his store. It also brought Ashley to tears.

2. "DogMan," the tall computer genius with anger management issues in Episode Two who orders Les to retrieve the hard drive from his pawned PC and calls everybody "Dog." "Who let the dog out?" asked Les, who unleashed his first "MF" of the season. "Byron let the dog out!"

And, still reigning at No. 1:

The boy genius from Episode One who came in looking to buy a portable generator and asked, "It doesn't run on electricity, does it?" When he demanded to bring the generator to his home to test it out and is denied, he got the Byron Bounce and ended up humping one of the tall front-door pylons on his way to the parking lot!


That fool had issues.

HARDCORE PAWN, Episode Three: There's a Monster on the Loose (And It's Not Ashley!)

"In the heart of Detroit's 8 Mile lies the city's biggest and baddest pawn shop...."

I am Michiganian by birth, Detroiter by heart. I spent more than 30 years in the Automotive Capital of Earth, became a man and a professional there, so shows that are set in Detroit or attempt to capture a slice of life in the Motor City are especially dear to me.

Hardcore Pawn is an amazingly successful, largely unsung Detroit TV jewel. Shot inside the now-iconic American Jewelry & Loan on Eight Mile Road, Hardcore Pawn ended its sixth season with 3.4 million viewers on truTV, largest audience in the network's history. It's basic cable's No. 1 unscripted program in its 9 p.m. (EST) Tuesday time slot, spawned a spinoff series in Hardcore Pawn: Chicago and, if it weren't for the unbelievably whacked-out string of belligerent, ignorant, foulmouthed customers it spotlights, it would be a continuing source of pride for Detroiters.

Moreover, I have grown to know series stars Les and Seth Gold and Ashley Gold Broad personally. I've written several stories on the family-owned business, including this feature for HOUR Detroit magazine. I've even patronized the place: the wristwatch I wear every day was purchased at American Jewelry & Loan. So for its lucky seventh season, which premiered Tuesday, March 26, I've selected Hardcore Pawn as a series to review here on a weekly basis. Here's a recap of Episode Three, aired April 9:

I love the sibling-rivalry episodes of Hardcore Pawn best, because I know they're truly rooted in reality.

Ashley and I have spoken about her relationship with Seth. She candidly admits that while she loves her brother dearly, she begrudges the fact that she worked faithfully with Les at the pawn shop all through high school and her college years at Michigan State, then had to make room for Seth when he finally decided to join the family business. Resentment that deep never fades away completely.

So as Episode Three, "Monster Deals," begins with a contrite Seth welcoming back American's reluctant female employees after rescinding his body-search policy at the end of last week's show, Ashley can't resist a little "nanny-nanny-boo-boo" taunt in Seth's office doorway. She gets the door slammed in her face for her efforts.

"What do you do around here," Ashley asks him, "other than piss off the employees and act like an ass?"

 "The only thing you do," Seth counters, "is scare customers away."


Chal-longe! Brother and sister square off to see which one can attract more customers inside the store.

Unlike the previous two episodes, the lunatic client confrontations begin practically right off the jump in this half-hour. Josh, a blue-bandana-wearing wanderer from Dallas, wants to sell Les the beloved watch his grandmother gave him for so he can get back home. (Why is it always the grandmother? Sellers trying to evoke more sympathy? Don't grandfathers ever give expensive gifts?)

When Les informs him that the gold is plated and the timepiece virtually worthless, and adds that he knows this because he owns the place, young Josh responds with the ballsiest question of the year so far: "Can I talk to someone who knows what they're doing?" Why, sure. Les calls over his "jeweler" – Byron, his mountainous head of security – for a second opinion. "Nothin'!" Byron confirms.

After calling Byron a "bozo" and a "bitch" to his face, not the wisest things to say to a man who can block out the sun, Josh receives the bum's-rush escort from the security chief. Best part: Byron implores him to "have a nice day, sir," all the way out the door. "Guess the bitch won this one," he concludes.

Credit: Mark Hill/Turner

After dealing with five used CPR dummies so skanky that even the woman who brings them in won't demonstrate them (Rick, the always-agreeable head of computer security, cheerfully goes mouth-to-plastic-mouth to show they still work – is he the real dummy?), Ashley reveals her major marketing strategy. It's a gargantuan, inflatable King Kong lookalike on the roof of the pawn shop, the kind of gimmick you see on auto dealerships to promote a big sale. Across the gorilla's chest are the words, "Monster Deals."

"This is your great idea?" Seth laughs. "What the f--- does 'Monster Deals' even mean?"

"BIG deals," Ashley explains.

Les tries his best to encourage his daughter's initiative, but his facial expressions reveal how he really feels about having a giant balloon perched on top of his store.

Seth has the gorilla taken down the same day.

Then comes the most brutally honest Hardcore Pawn transaction of the season. Patrick, a bony Northern Michigan visitor sporting a Faux-hawk, tries to sell Ashley an antique African drum that once belonged to his father. Ashley maintains that the materials used to make the drum look too new for it to be vintage.

"I'm sure if it sits in here as long as some of the stuff's been sitting in here, it'll be an antique by the time it's sold," he counters. (Popular American Jewelry and Loan truism No. 1.)

She offers him $35. He counters with $350. "We're not even in the same ballpark," Ashley says. Patrick goes ballistic.

"I knew right when I seen (sic) you were going to be the one helping me that you were going to be a bitch," he erupts. "Everybody knows that Ashley at American Jewelry and Loan is a bitch!" (Truism No. 2, to the point where Ashley says total strangers come up to her on the street and exclaim, "You're that bitch on TV!" Talk about taking one for the family.)

That does it: Byron hustles Drummer Boy out the door so fast that Ashley has to chase behind them to give Patrick back his drum. Beat off, fella.

However, when a subsequent customer also gets in Ashley's face, demanding his "20 percent discount" and shouting, "I want you to quit, quit, quit!" Seth invites her and Les to go onto the roof – not to replace the gorilla, but so he can unveil his counter marketing strategy:

A giant billboard next to the store, with a headshot of Ashley and the invitation, "Make Her Quit, Save 20% on Next Purchase."

"Now that's a marketing campaign!" Seth beams.

"You are such an a--hole!" Ashley steams.

This was far and away the funniest and most entertaining episode of Season 7 thus far, the feel of Hardcore Pawn when all elements are clicking. And next week: the show's landmark 100th episode. Oh, that should be something to see.

SIDEBAR: I noted something in this episode that's practically never seen: A person walking out of the store with his face obscured for the camera! Doesn't everybody who comes into American Jewelry and Loan want to be seen on TV?

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Now that we're approaching a critical mass of episodes, beginning with this post we're going to rate, in our view, the best American Jewelry & Loan store ejections of the season. Currently, the Top 5 dismissals are:

5. Josh, the Dallas doofus, from this Episode Three.

4. Patrick, the demented drum dealer and Ashley verbal assaulter from Up North, also in Episode Three.

3. The sentimental fool from Episode One who tries to pawn one of his late grandmother's rings in the same breath he mourns her recent death. After Ashley politely informs him that Granny's ring is fake, he demands to speak to someone else "because you irritate me, flat out," calls her the B-word and sticks his finger in her face. That's enough to get Les involved in the toss-out, because NOBODY insults his daughter in his store. The incident also brings Ashley to tears.

2. "DogMan," the tall computer genius with anger management issues in Episode Two who orders Les to retrieve the hard drive from his pawned PC, begins slapping the glass between himself and Les when he's told no, and starts calling everybody "Dog" until security chief Byron "escorts" him from the store. "Who let the dog out?" asks Les, who went so far as to write "NO" in big letters on a piece of paper, shove it in front of the troublemaker's face, and unleash his first "MF" of the season. "Byron let the dog out!"

And, coming in this week at No. 1:

The boy genius from Episode One who comes in looking to buy a portable generator and asks, "It doesn't run on electricity, does it?" He then asks to bring the generator to his home to make sure it works and, when Seth scoffs at his request, flies into a rage, gets the Byron Bounce out the front door and ends up humping one of the tall front-door pylons on his way to the parking lot!

What a maroon.

DALLAS: Snidely Whiplash Has Nothing on Harris Ryland

Big, huge, Texas-sized doin's on Dallas this week.

In last Monday's episode, the state seized the land – and essentially, the business – of Ewing Energies as a result of the explosion that leveled the company's methane gas refinery.

Ken Richards (so cool to see Lee Majors again, in a guest role) pulls a Judas act on Sue Ellen and the family.

TESHA, the state's energy commission, ruled Christopher's negligence in not replacing a faulty sensor was to blame for the blast (when we all know it really was Cliff Barnes who paid for the platform to be dynamited, killing Christopher and Pamela's unborn babies in the process) and fines the family $1 billion for the catastrophe. (Note here: the Ewings' reaction, after Bobby tells the commission to stick their ruling where the oil don't flow, was not, "Oh, my Lord, where are we ever going to find that much money?" "It was more, "Oh, well, if we have to pay it, we guess we will." How much money do they have at Southfork, anyway? Must. Be. Nice.)

Even the governor of Texas (Steven Weber) appears to be in on the conspiracy to run the Ewings out of business and bring them to their haughty knees. And all the while, Harris Ryland (Mitch Pileggi) and Barnes are sitting back, rubbing their hands with glee and waiting for the dominoes to fall.

Oh, the soap's getting all sudsy now. It's all enough to merit a two-hour Dallas spectacular beginning at 8 p.m. EST Monday, April 8 on TNT, two new episodes back-to-back as the Ewing family unites to begin their counteroffensive.

Bobby wants to muss him up, but Ryland's got the upper hand – for now.*

With the death of J.R., this series needed a villain contemptible enough for the audience to boo and hiss whenever he appeared on the screen. Frankly, Cliff (Ken Kercheval) is a little long in the tooth for the assignment, but the producers appear to have found their man in Harris Ryland.

He pushes his mother (Judith Light) down a staircase. When he disapproves of his daughter's boyfriend, he has the kid snatched off the street, stuffed in a trunk and the snot beaten out of him. Boo! Hiss! Pileggi is certainly not the man he used to be in TV viewers' eyes, a mighty far piece from his days as Walter Skinner on The X-Files.

But I'm betting Pileggi knows what most actors recognize, and what Larry Hagman understood very well: villains usually get the best lines. And before we forget about it and move on, his closing speech as Harris at the end of last Monday's episode, "Let Me In" written by series creator David Jacobs, Cynthia Cidre and Aaron Allen, is a bit of business worth remembering.

Sitting in the governor's office, Ryland delivers a chilling, monotonal soliloquy comparing his strategy to that of a notorious killer of the animal kingdom. While he talks, the screen flashes with scenes of the Ewings' business and family slowly unraveling.

Ryland says: 

"I watched this program the other day. Some nature documentary on the hunting pattern of the Komodo dragon. Did you watch this?

"Well, see, the Komodo is venomous. His bite is poison. So he bites his prey – buffalo, usually – and then he waits.

"The Komodo is strong. But the buffalo is stronger. He can't take it down while it's at full strength. So the dragon waits, while the buffalo gets weaker and weaker. Takes days. Weeks, sometimes.

"Now the dragon keeps his distance but never loses sight of his prey. He's patient, and he has no mercy. That's his biggest strength.

"The dragon watches the poison takes hold, waiting for the buffalo to fall. For a moment to pounce. The buffalo panics, tries to escape, tries to fight the venom. But it's no use. The venom is absolute.

"There's no escapin' it, no fighting it, no endgame where the buffalo wins and the dragon loses. But the dragon's patience is well rewarded. The buffalo collapses, succumbs to the venom.

"And that's when the dragon feeds."

Hey, did he just call the Ewings a bunch of buffaloes?

Never herd anything like that.


*Photo courtesy TNT/Jade Rosenthal

HARDCORE PAWN Season Premiere: Crime, Caution and Craziness

I am Michiganian by birth, Detroiter by heart. I spent more than 30 years in the Automotive Capital of Earth, became a man and a professional there, so shows that are set in Detroit or attempt to capture a slice of life in the Motor City are especially dear to me.

Hardcore Pawn in particular is an amazingly successful, largely unsung Detroit TV jewel. Shot in the now-iconic American Jewelry & Loan on Eight Mile Road – and without the benefit of hotly-debated Michigan film incentives – Hardcore Pawn ended its sixth season with 3.4 million viewers on truTV, largest audience in the network's history. It's basic cable's No. 1 unscripted program in its 9 p.m. (EST) Tuesday time slot, has spawned a spinoff series in Hardcore Pawn: Chicago and, if it weren't for the unbelievably whacked-out string of belligerent, ignorant, foulmouthed customers it spotlights, would be a continuing source of pride for Detroiters.

Moreover, I have gotten to know series stars Les and Seth Gold and Ashley Gold Broad on a personal level. I've written several stories on the family-owned business, including this feature for HOUR Detroit magazine. I've even patronized the place: the wristwatch I wear every day was purchased at American Jewelry & Loan. So for its lucky seventh season, which premiered Tuesday, March 26, I've selected Hardcore Pawn as a series to review here on a weekly basis. Here's a recap of Episode One:


The seventh season opener, "Frisky Business," arrived with an uncommonly somber, serious tone: the first true wacko customer didn't arrive until more than seven minutes into the proceedings. In last season's two-part finale, Joe, the store's head of security for three years, was caught on video stealing scrap gold and loose diamonds from the business, was fired and prosecuted. Now all the employees – as well as Les, Seth and Ashley – are on edge wondering what the corporate reaction to this Judas-like betrayal should be.

Les, the wise one, acknowledges it's a fact that a worker occasionally will steal from you. It's happened to him before, and it's a sad reality of doing business. Seth, the cautious one, thinks that's a copout. It's possible Joe wasn't working alone, and if that's the case every employee is a potential suspect. "If you can't trust your head of security, you can't trust anybody," he declares. A strong response is needed, and Seth calls for a mandatory all-store meeting on the showroom floor.

Les announces at the meeting that Byron, a young bespectacled gentleman about the size of the Spirit of Detroit statue, will replace Joe as security chief. He also enacts a new rule that the jeweler's table is officially off-limits to all but a handful of personnel. "If we see anybody else around there, your ass is on the line," he warns.

(Credit: Mark Hill/Turner)

It's Seth, however, who drops the biggest bombshell: Beginning that night, the bags of all workers will be searched upon leaving the building. As you might imagine, this goes over about as well as removing your belt and shoes at airport security, or breaking wind aboard the plane.

He ends the meeting with the ominous notice: "We will be instituting other measures as well," which takes even Les and Ashley by surprise.

Then we're off to business as usual. An innocuous-looking man who tries to sell Les a handsome brass table compass for $150 that he himself is selling online for $33 naturally incites the patriarch's ire ("Do I look like a f***ing idiot?"). He gives the seller and his compass speedy directions to the door, steamed that anyone would even try to play him as a fool at this stage. "Yeah, this is my first day of being a pawnbroker," he cracks.

It's the episode's second customer, however, that brings Hardcore Pawn back to its slam-bang reality roots. A gangly, headbanded gent laments the recent passing of his grandmother in the same breath he asks to pawn one of the old gal's rings to pay his rent. Ashley, literally sweet as she can be, politely informs him that Granny's ring is a fake and he'll need to pawn a TV or other items to hit the $300 he's requesting.

"So you're saying basically I wasted my time standing up here talking to you?" he asks, demanding to speak to someone else "because you irritate me, flat out." (Ashley gets that a lot.) He suddenly demands she lowers her voice and sticks his finger in her face! Oh, that's the cue! Byron, the new security chief, appears like a mountain out of the mist, bodyslams the finger-wagger and bull-rushes him out the door. (That's the moment you remember this is "reality" TV; they'd be facing personal injury lawsuits every week if they manhandled customers like this in real life.)

He calls Ashley the "B"-word as he leaves, triggering Les's anger again – nobody insults his daughter in his presence – and a shaken Ashley appears to display genuine near-tears emotion after he's gone. "People come in my face all the time and scream at me," she says, "but nobody's ever touched me. Thank God for Byron."

Later, a laid-off man tries to sell Les a gull-winged 1976 Bricklin sports car ("one of the coolest cars I've ever seen," Les gushes) for $30,000 but agrees to pawn it for $7,000, and an unsure single mother agrees to part with her larger-than-life Blues Brothers statues for $300 but reneges on the deal when friends whisper she could get more elsewhere. But my personal favorite customer of the episode is the skullcapped boob who lost power in his home the night before and comes to Seth looking to buy a generator.

"It doesn't run on electricity, does it?" he asks. (Ouch.) 

Assured that generators are made not to need outside power, he attempts to negotiate a deal. When he can't come up to Seth's asking price of $700, he asks to bring the generator to his home and test it before purchasing it. Yeah, right, and when it works, you'll come right back with the money, correct? Ultimately, he flies into a rage, becomes the second patron in 30 minutes to receive the Byron Bounce, and ends up humping one of the front-door barricades on his way to the parking lot!

"You...need...help," Byron suggests. "Psychiatrist. Xanax. A beer. Something."

The episode ends with Seth – who's been talked off the idea of body-searching the workers by Les and Ashley – following through on his promise to inspect the bags of every employee as they leave the store, totally infuriating the female employees.

"We have a problem," Seth observes. "No," Les replies, "YOU have a problem."

Norman, Is That You? 'Bates Motel' is 'Psycho' New and Old

Welcome! Here you check in, but you don't check out. (Joe Lederer/A&E)

Beauty and the Beast. Hawaii Five-O. The Carrie Diaries. Prime Suspect. Elementary. It must be prime-time television, where everything old is being "reimagined" for another hopeful shot at ratings success. (WARNING: Whenever you see the word "reimagined," immediately think "recycled, threadbare concept I have seen at least once before.") If there are so many bright, cool, creative people in Hollywood, why are there so few completely original ideas?

It's because our lords of entertainment hunger for the one thing nobody on this earth is guaranteed: a surefire winner. Production costs being so astronomical these days, no network can afford to sire too many litters of dogs in its lineup. The prevailing theory is, if you already have some familiarity with a storyline or character you'll be much more willing to tune in to our new series, out of curiosity if no other reason, and join millions of your like-minded friends in the process. (This wisdom fails to take into account that shows like Duck Dynasty, Breaking Bad, Mad Men, Downton Abbey and The Walking Dead may be runaway hits because there is nothing else like them on television, but I digress.)

Freddie Highmore as Young Norman, Vera Farmiga as Mom.

And now, one of the most iconic tales in all of moviedom has become a TV renovation project: Alfred Hitchcock's classic 1960 thriller Psycho, as "reimagined" in the new series Bates Motel premiering at 10 p.m. EST Monday, March 18 on A&E. (If you watched the 2012 biopic Hitchcock starring Anthony Hopkins as the Master of Suspense, you're amazed that Psycho – itself based on the novel by Robert Bloch – ever got made in the first place, but again I digress.) Bates Motel presents as the prequel to Hitchcock's genre-defining film, probing the parent-child relationship between a 17-year-old Norman Bates and his flighty, borderline sociopathic mother, Norma, and the circumstances that played into his becoming the most famous fictional serial serial killer in history. (Hannibal, yet another "reimagined" series coming to NBC April 4, might disagree.)

Like different breeds of dogs, however, there are different sizes and shapes of these creatures. There are great reimaginings (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) and horrible reimaginings (AfterMASH).

Bates Motel is an...OK reimagining.

I really want to like this show. Young British actor Freddie Highmore (Finding Neverland) is a brilliant cast as the teenage Norman, bearing an uncanny likeness to the late Anthony Perkins and exhibiting the angular, awkward, sheepishly cute demeanor one might have envisioned in the character as a schoolboy.

We never actually met Norman's mother – at least, not with her skin on – so in theory any actress could have played the role. Again, executive producers Carlton Cuse (Lost) and Kerry Ehrin (Friday Night Lights), two gentlemen whose work I admire, made an inspired choice with Vera Farmiga (Up in the Air) as Norma Bates. Farmiga has an awful lot of foundation to pour in Monday's opener – she is, by turns, loving, overprotective, flirtatious, manipulative, secretive and confrontational – yet manages to pull it all off while being neither unappealing nor contrived. The series stays true to the setting and architecture of the Bates Motel in our collective memory, while blending in some breathtaking bayside scenery as this show ventures outside the confines of their property.

The big problem with Bates Motel is that it feels like a jumbled anachronism. The creators very much want it to be a contemporary series – we see iPhones, texting, BMW convertibles and wild, dope-smoking high school parties – but Norma and Norman, by their dress, their mannerisms, even some of their dialogue – seem firmly rooted in the time period of the Psycho movie decades ago. It's as if they were transplanted from another age to walk among us in modern times. "It makes my brain hurt," my wife said, trying to rationalize the two polar-opposite contexts. Mine was starting to throb a bit, too.

Master Bates, in the Dark. (All photos, Joe Lederer/A&E)

There is death within the first three minutes of the pilot (Norma's second husband, of unexplained causes) and two more graphically violent acts before the hour ends. Her spouse's demise prompts impulsive Norma to pack up lock, stock and favorite son, move to the dozy coastal village of White Pine Bay and buy a foreclosed, tumbledown motel. She has a second, older son, Dylan (Max Thieriot), but you won't meet him for a week or so. He's worth the wait.

"This is our chance to start over," she tells Norman.

"Maybe some people don't get to start over," he replies. "Maybe they just bring themselves to a new place."

Guys, we all should be so lucky as to be brought to this place. Filed under the category of "Things That Have Never, Or Will Never Happen to Me, Ever," while waiting for the bus to begin his first day of high school Norman is set upon by five beautiful classmates who pepper him with personal questions then whisk him away in the Bimmer. (What made him turn evil, anyway?) He's taken with the vivacious Miss Popularity, Bradley (Nicola Peltz), who sees him as "a beautiful, deep, still lake in the middle of a concrete world," but he's being pursued by quirky school loner Emma Decody (Olivia Cooke), whose lifelong battle with cystic fibrosis forces her to drag an oxygen tank around campus. She senses a kindred spirit in Norman. "Do you have some sort of chronic illness?" she asks him, looking almost disappointed by his response.

You'll also meet a creepy sheriff (Nestor Carbonell) and his smitten deputy (Mike Vogel) who views Norma as someone worth investigating. If you remember the eccentric '90s mystery Twin Peaks, it's almost impossible not to draw comparisons between it and Bates Motel; actually, this might have been easier to accept and appreciate as a "reimagining" of that series.

On our Glowing Box scale of 1-10, I give Bates Motel a 6. I encourage you to check in, however, out of curiosity if nothing else: how long you stay before checking out is entirely up to you.

On 'Dallas,' J.R. Goes Out With a Bang – For Real This Time

This time, sadly, J.R.'s not coming back. (Credit: Skip Bolen/TNT)

Whether you follow the new incarnation of Dallas like a Texan follows his Longhorns or you decided to keep your TV past in the past, if you loved the series in the '70s and '80s you owe it to yourself to tune in to the episode titled "J.R.'s Masterpiece" at 9 p.m. EST Monday, March 11 on TNT.

It's "Who Shot J.R.?" 2.0, as last week's hour ended with J.R. Ewing's son, John Ross (Josh Henderson) on the phone with his felonious father when he hears two gunshots on the other end of the line.

"Dad? DAD?" he screams.

I was so hoping he might get stabbed or poisoned this time around. Let the murder mystery begin!

Of course, unlike the media phenomenon that swept the world over three decades ago, J.R. won't be returning to lead the investigation this time, since Larry Hagman died of cancer last November at 81. So Monday's episode, J.R.'s memorial service at Dallas's exclusive Petroleum Club, is both a celebration of TV's most famous and enduring villain and the remarkable actor who portrayed him.

Might as well practice saying it now: "Boy, doesn't he (or she) look old?" Because J.R.'s funeral reunites a score of characters from the show's first go-round, and seeing them on the same set again is one of the special delights of the hour.

In addition to series regulars Patrick Duffy (Bobby) and Linda Gray (Sue Ellen), Ken Kercheval (Cliff Barnes), who makes recurring appearances, and Ted Shackelford, whose character Gary Ewing returned to Dallas a few weeks ago, will be there. (Knots Landing alert: Joan Van Ark, the longsuffering Valene Ewing who's now estranged from Gary, will return in a few weeks.)

Jones, Cuban and Mayor Rawlings with Duffy (Skip Bolen)

The guests include Ray Krebbs (Steve Kanaly), Lucy Ewing (Charlene Tilton), Mandy Winger (Deborah Shelton) and J.R.'s second wife, Cally (Cathy Podewell). Victoria Principal, Priscilla Presley and Susan Howard were invited, but declined; however, as a testament to the larger-than-life persona of both Hagman and his character, real-life Dallas moguls Jerry Jones, owner of the Cowboys, Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban and Dallas Mayor Mike Rawlings appear as themselves at the memorial.

I spent an evening with Hagman many years ago with a group of television critics at his Malibu beach house. It's a night I remember vividly to this day. He was gracious, friendly – and showed flashes of a wild-ass, bad-boy streak he couldn't mask if he tried. I left his presence thinking everything I'd heard and read about him actually might be true. Larry Hagman – native Texan, liver transplant recipient, marijuana advocate – was a marvelous TV actor (don't forget Maj. Tony Nelson in I Dream of Jeannie), and truly one of a kind as a human being.

If you'd like to catch up on the events leading up to this historic episode, TNT is making the first seven hours of the current Season 2 available for online viewing at http://tntdrama.com. And the official Dallas fan site, http://www.ultimatedallas.com/, is an overwhelming wealth of information on the series.

In the tipping point of "J.R.'s Masterpiece," Barnes crashes the private ceremony and runs his big mouth, sparking a brawl that disrupts the proceedings. Kercheval, however, escapes without a scratch. "Back in the day, Cliff Barnes would have been the first person hit," Duffy told TV Guide. "But we can't lay a finger on each other anymore because we'd fall down and break a hip."

Mark Burnett Takes on 'The Bible' – Will Jesus Be a Survivor?

My wife looked at me like I'd just turned my Aquafina into Cabernet when I casually mentioned, "You know, I was watching The Bible this morning, and..."

The notion of watching rather than reading God's holy word may sound like blasphemy to some, but hey! It's the 21st century! Who reads anymore anyway? (Oh, except you, of course. And I'm very grateful.) I'll wager millions will be turning the Good Book into a visual medium at 8 p.m. EST Sunday, March 3 to behold the premiere of The Bible, a sweeping five-week, 10-hour miniseries event on History.

It's by no means an exaggeration to suggest that March 3 may be the biggest night in History's...uh, history. The Bible will be followed at 10 p.m. by the cable channel's first original scripted series, Vikings, itself a nine-week voyage into the very distant past. Talk about packing all your dynamite into one bang. (I can't wait to see how ABC's heavily-promoted new drama Red Widow, also bowing March 3 with a two-hour debut, will fare against both God and gods; "widow" may be the operative word.)

Which of these two History blockbusters did I concentrate on? Well, there's a no-brainer: the Vikings have Valhalla, and there's no way they're letting me in there! I'll focus on the promise of Heaven, thank you very much.   

Roma Downey as Mary. (A&E/Casey Crawford)

The Bible is executive produced by Mark Burnett, the programming whiz who through his reality-TV triumphs like Survivor, The Apprentice and The Voice has shaped much of what prime-time television is today, and his wife Roma Downey, best known as star of the appropriately-titled Touched by an Angel, who also appears in the series in the role of Mary. (Duh. If you were producing The Bible, what part would you take? Jezebel?) 

Their showbizzy stature in leading this production is more than enough to make Christians a bit jittery ("Which of the disciples will be voted off Gethsemane? Tune in next week!"), especially since Burnett and Downey had to know that biblical scholars, ministers, believers, people of other faiths – even atheists – would be waiting eagerly to dissect and rip apart every scene. To their considerable credit, however, they took the righteous path, crafting a vivid, awe-inspiring spectacle that strives to stay true to the Bible and bring its stories to life. (There's even a disclaimer at the top that reads, "This program is an adaptation of Bible stories that changed our world...it endeavors to stay true to the spirit of the book.")

Diogo Morgado as J.C. (Joe Alblas/A&E)

Are there some liberties taken? Of course. I never knew, for example, that one of God's avenging angels in Sodom was the original Bruce Lee. But not so many as you might expect. The Bible is a pretty exciting read all by itself. It's a "greatest hits" condensation of Scripture, but any series whose first episode begins with Noah and his family being buffeted wildly in the ark and ends with the parting of the Red Sea (my, how CGI has improved since The Ten Commandments) has got to be something to see, no?

The Bible looks rich and feels solid. There are scenes, such as the first look at Pharoah's colossal palace, that literally took my breath away. Beyond Downey, there is a massive cast of largely international actors, and the average U.S. viewer probably won't recognize one of 'em. That's a good thing, because it takes one away from thoughts like "I can't believe they cast him as Jesus" (him in this case being the young Portuguese star Diogo Morgado) and allows you to focus on the stories themselves. I had no idea, though, that so many Old Testament figures sported British accents. And I swear that William Houston, the Royal Shakespeare actor cast in the role of Moses, is trying to channel the ghost of Charleton Heston. 

The special effects are really the star of this epic. You'll be as fascinated as delighted to see Lot's wife become a pillar of salt (she's depicted as a real shrew), and the interpretation of the Burning Bush is unique and unexpected. Actor Keith David, who has often been described as "the voice of God," provides the narration. However, since this is America, the land of religious tolerance, and History has opened the door, shouldn't a miniseries on the Quran be forthcoming? The Torah? The Book of Mormon? 

There are violent and bloody scenes in The Bible, as there are in the Bible, but they are necessary within the context of the narrative; Vikings is the only saga I can remember that begins with a savage, bloodthirsty battle for no other reason than to set the stage, then immediately becomes dull.

An international Irish-Canadian production (and you know how mild and gentle those Canadians are) created by Michael Hirst, the man who gave us The Tudors, Vikings is a simple story, simply told. Young, ambitious Ragnar Lothbrok (Travis Fimmel) wants to take the Viking raiding party west this year to plunder new lands; his local chieftain, Earl Haraldson (Gabriel Byrne, looking extremely bored), says there ain't nothin' out there and tells Ragnar to stuff it in his helmet: they're heading east again, like they have every year. Frustrated, Ragnar defies his leader and secretly begins building his own longboat with the help of a whacked-out shipbuilder named Floki (Gustaf Skarsgård). In between, there's fighting.

The best part of the opening episode for me was when Lagertha (Katheryn Winnick), Ragnar's hottie wife, lays to waste two would-be home invaders who show up expecting to plunder her. (Viking women rock!) Other than that, Vikings is largely full of ship.

I'll give The Bible nine out of 10 remotes (only God is perfect, you know), Vikings four.

Plus What: Over two telecasts on premiere night, March 3, The Bible averaged 14.8 million viewers and 13.1 million total viewers from 8-10 p.m, making it the No. 1 cable entertainment program of 2013 and, obviously, the highest-rated series in History's history.