So, yes, Showtime and Ilene Chaiken, creator of the lesbian soap The L Word, have again teamed up to pipe even more lesbian drama into America's homes. They're being mum on the details, so we're offering some of our own:

• Considering that Chaiken will be a part of the show, there's no doubt in our mind that some lesbian power couple will be included. Ellen and Portia are way above such antics, but we would settle for Jamie Babbit and Andrea Sperling, who brought us But I'm a Cheerleader and, yes, worked on a few episodes of The L Word. Plus, the couple has two children, so we can all get a "two mommies" moment.

  
  

• While we're on the subject of Hollywood's lesbian machine, how about inviting Top Gun actress Kelly McGillis to appear? She just came out and that always brings drama.

  
  

• It would be good for Chaiken to include a young dykette. Sure, she may not fit the "housewives" criteria, but you know how the lesbians love to take a youngin' under their wing and help them fly. Maybe McGillis can be the teacher.

  
  

• Now, we know this isn't likely, but we'll bring it up anyway: The L Word was great both for its over-the-top drama and its unabashed lesbian sex. We're sure there won't be any sexxx scenes on this new show. Titties, however, are definitely encouraged. Maybe a lesbian stripper trying to make it as a singer? We would also settle for a lesbian stand-up comic. Who shows her titties.

  
  

• We also envision a butch dyke worker who has a hot-ass wife who spends her days on Rodeo Drive shopping and getting her nails just right. Also, a woman with a really girly profession, like secretary or teacher.

  
  

• Please, please don't have anything centering around the gay and lesbian community center. Yes, we're glad they exist and all, but they're a total drag. And the lighting's always so hetero.

  
  

• No fat chicks. (Ha! We kid, of course. Don't hurt us!)

Video clip probably NSFW, BTW!

It's so hard to tell about the general quality of the show, glamored as we were by director Alexander Payne's reliably gentle/tough hand and the nimble work of Jane Adams, as Thomas Jane's pimp, who is one of Hollywood's most criminally underused actors. She gave a fine, nuanced, weird performance last night—spanning from sexual ecstasy to untethered artist sadness to hard-minded pragmatist with natural ease. And Payne's details—his close-ups, his visual aesthetic that's both warm and chilly—provided such a lovely backdrop for this kind of pleasingly lived-in acting.

But Thomas Jane? Hm. He's always been such a conundrum. He was maybe going to break out and be big after The Sweetest Thing and The Punisher and then it just fizzled into nowhere. And he's got that curious face, that bashed-up maybe-handsome, maybe-too-unfocused set of features that can be manly and attractive one minute, and then sort of sad and grizzled the next. It works mostly to his favor, we think, in the role of Ray Drecker, a washed-up high school coach who, in his youth, had a string of opportunities that never panned out (hey... sounds familiar!). Anne Heche ably plays his angry, moved-on wife in a part that could either stay shrill or round out to something unlikable, sure, but undeniably compelling in its true-to-life humanity (see: Nikki Grant on Big Love).

So we like it OK. But we're definitely not in love. We're trying to remember the last time a TV pilot grabbed us and demanded further viewing. Didn't happen for True Blood or, hell, even Big Love. What about over on Showtime? We're sorta liking Nurse Jackie, but it's really only for the same reason as Hung: a wonderful performance by a lead actress amid a sea of other, murkier things. In the case of Nurse Jackie: What the hell were they thinking casting that guy as Jackie's husband? He's like twenty years younger and belongs in some indie about softly strumming guitars in a sparsely-furnished New York apartment, not playing the borough-dwelling owner of a local dive bar. Also, Anna Deavere Smith is sort of embarrassing herself with jokey-joke cameos as a stern hospital administrator. And while Eve Best is a terrific actress, we're not sure that her hyperbolic character—bitchy blase rich Englishwoman doctor with a boatload of Blahniks but no love for children—belongs alongside Falco's more dependably "real" Jackie.

Both of these shows have promise, and we'll stick with them, but we're disappointed that we're not more excited. Not everything can be The Sopranos or Mad Men where we're hooked like suckers from the very beginning, but watching a show out of duty or some pretentious high-minded ideal that this is Good Television starts to feel like work after a while.

Oh here's what the whole Twilight fiasco needed: a touch of class. Lauded British actor Michael Sheen has joined the cast of the sequel, in which he'll play the leader of the Voltrons, a dangerous sect of vampires that are sparkly and wear high-water pants. Or something. [Variety] Speaking of classy British types, Ray Winstone, Anna Friel, and David Thewlis have all joined the cast of London Boulevard. The crime drama stars Keira Knightley and Colin Farrell and is being filmed in London this summer. It just shits sophistication! [Variety]

FX is capitalizing on the whole pirate craze, just as any self-respecting cable network ought to do. They've just green-lit a pilot for Pirate Hunters: USN (because initials are so hot in TV right now!), which follows Navy sailors as they sail the seas, stop pirates, and make careful, tender love to each other down somewhere in their bunks, buried in the belly of the ship. [Variety] In other pilot news, Showtime has decided to make it 0 for 4, passing on their final possible series for next season, Possible Side Effects. The show, written and directed by Tim Robbins and starring Josh Lucas, was the last of a quartet to be turned down by the premium cabler, following End of Steve, The Farm, and Ronna and Beverly. Instead Showtime has picked up, for cheap at a flea market, reruns of Arli$$ and Carnevale. [Variety]

Good news for NBC! Their new drama Southland set out on fairly sturdy legs on Thursday night, the first drama to air in that night's 10pm slot since e.r. came rumbling out of the gate allllll the way back in 1994. It earned 9.86 million viewers, winning the night in all key demos. The show's actually not half bad, I recommend giving it a look-see. Also Parks & Recreation held on to 88% of its Office lead-in, though it was certainly buoyed by the second new Office of the evening waiting just beyond it. It'll have a tougher time holding onto those numbers once My Name Is Earl returns to the 8pm slot next week. [Variety] In other businessy news, Sundance Institute executive director Ken Brechner has resigned from his post after 14 years. This comes after the recent news that festival director Geoff Gilmore has resigned to head up the Tribeca Film Festival. Sundance getting too big? Too corporate? To stagnant? Restless and in need of a change? Probably a little of all of that. [THR]

In case his bellowing from over there on Fox at 5pm isn't quite loud enough, populist horrorshow Glenn Beck is taking his act on the road. He'll be doing six live performances in June, touring such liberal hotspots as Houston, Kansas City, and San Diego. He calls his act "poor man's Seinfeld," but I call it "poor man's insane agitator, pitchfork supplier, and torch lighter." [Variety] While on the topic of imbalanced, worrisome people, animal nut Jeff Corwin has landed a deal with the Food Network. Apparently attempting to compete with the Travel Channel's Bizarre Foods, Corwin will travel the globe eating weird stuff. He'll also spend some time staring unblinkingly at the camera, smiling insanely. [THR]

HBO's new pilot The Wonderful Maladys, about three siblings who lost their parents at a young age, just keeps getting more interesting. Already making me curious for starring the wonderful trio of Sarah Michelle Gellar, Molly Parker, and Nate Corddry, the show has now added the underused Adam Scott (Party Down) and Zak Orth (Vicky Cristina Barcelona, recently) to the cast. Consider me intrigued. [THR]

Showtime, perhaps concerned about belt-tightening, or perhaps concerned that the shows suck, have been turning down pilots left and right. They've passed on the Matthew Perry series End of Steve, a spin-off of The L Word, and now the buzzed-about comedy Ronna and Beverly, about two Jewish ladies in Boston. The pilot they ordered from Tim Robbins, Possible Side Effects, remains in the game, but it's far from a sure bet. [Variety] HBO has good news, at least. Their new film Grey Gardens has earned its very first rave. Big Edie hasn't been this pleased since Jerry liked her corn. [Variety]

Melora Hardin, who deserves to be a big big star because she is so funny as Jan on The Office, has landed a lead role in the new FX pilot Lights Out. She'll play the surgeon wife of a retired boxer who becomes an enforcer for loan sharks to help support his family (but... isn't she a surgeon?) Good for her. [THR] In other thrilling TV news: Have you ever felt that Gossip Girl, about richie rich Upper East Side teens, isn't real enough? Well now Bravo is bringing you NYC Prep, a reality series about horrible rich "social" children who go to fancy schools in Manhattan and poop Burberry-print feces and when they cry it just sounds like Deborah Voigt singing and their tears are made of diamonds and when they die they become the stone lions out in front of the Met Public Library. All of this happens in the first episode. [THR]

A Dutch television show has decided that Osama Bin Laden had nothing to do with the September 11th attacks, and that the accusation was just a part of "Western propaganda." Upon hearing the news, George W. Bush issued a statement from his Crawford, TX ranch saying "See? I didn't need to look for him that hard after all." When he found out that the show is in fact a stupid reality show called Devil's Advocate in which a fancy, sell-out lawyer tries to exonerate perpetrators of terrible crimes in the unending quest for ratings, Bush sighed and shook his head said "Well... Well, dammit. Laura, can I get a back rub?" [THR]

Indonesia will be adding Fox International's network Foxcrime to their broadcast roster, to be part of cable company Indovision. The network—which features reruns of tons of crime shows like NYPD Blue, Kojak, and the C.S.I. iterations—is also broadcast in Europe and other Asian markets. For a second I was kind of jealous that those foreigners get to have an entire channel devoted to shows about crime, but then I remembered that we have both TNT and USA. So suck it, Indonesia. [Variety]

Movie stars steal theater folks' roles again! Though Cynthia Nixon and John Slattery played the roles in the well-reviewed Broadway production, square-jawed Aaron Eckhart and bugle-lipped Nicole Kidman will be starring in the film adaptation of David Lindsay-Abaire's play about a dead kid, Rabbit Hole. Oddly, John Cameron Mitchell, of Hedwig fame, will helm. The theateriest movie news ever! [Variety] And speaking of Sex and the City people, Warner Bros. and New Line have finally set a date for the big SATC movie sequel. Set your lipgloss to stun and mark your pink martini calendars, because on May 28, 2010... your sequined dreams will be realized once more. The story of grief and loss and life changes as the three gals make the tough decision to put Samantha in a home is sure to be a crowd pleaser. [Variety]

That twee-looking little indie movie about hipsters and babies and stuff, Gigantic, starring Zooey Bechamel, Paul Dano, and John Goodman, has won the top prize at the AFI Dallas International Film Festival. So, it must be good! [Variety] Meanwhile, in bizarro land, Julian Schnabel and Patton Oswalt have won awards at the same festival. [Variety]

Showtime has picked up two new series. They'll likely run with the comedy Ronna & Beverly, about two middle aged Jewish ladies in Boston (!!), and the Tim Robbins-produced drama Possible Side Effects, starring Josh Lucas. Sadly for someone probably, they've passed on the Matthew Perry series End of Steve. [Variety] More cable bad news: the season two finale of FX series Damages was down 32% from last year in the ol' ratings department. Though, a third season has already been ordered, so no worries. [THR]

The terrific Rosemarie DeWitt is joining the cast of John Wells' Company Man, alongside Chris Cooper, Kevin Costner, Tommy Lee Jones, and Ben Affleck. They're filming in Boston, so I'm gonna have to run home and gawp at them like a regular weirdo or something. [THR] Amaury Nolasco, from Prison Break, has been cast in the Hunter S. Thompson adaptation The Rum Diary, starring Johnny Depp. It's filming in Puerto Rico, so if you're there, go and gawp like a standard strange-o. [THR]

One of the many perks of living in countries like Slovakia, Romania, and the Czech Republic? You get to watch the precious premium cabler the MGM Channel. Well now those of you in jealous Slovenia can relax. They've finally brought the network to you too. So good. All is well in Central and Eastern Europe. [Variety]

The pilot is now streaming at the Showtime website (type in TARA when prompted for a password). What Cody has come up with is Tara, a depressive housewife and muralist-for-hire, played by Toni Collette with the open-mouthed neediness she's capitalized upon since Muriel's Wedding. But unlike Muriel, there's nothing here to make us particularly care about Tara. She's not quite pathetic enough, or crazy enough, or manipulative enough. She possesses none of the guile or sex appeal that made Mary-Louise Parker's pot-dealing mom in Weeds so instantly engaging, none of the ferocity and purposefulness of the women at the center of The Closer and Damages, none of the stifled ambition propelling the Mad Men girls. Tara might talk a lot, but she arrives utterly inert, without any reason to exist.

What Tara does have, however, is a hook. She suffers from dissociative identity disorder, a very real affliction which in Hollywood's hands always seems to offer actors a showcase to flaunt one's broad-ranged capacity for flimsy stereotyping. Why perform one character well, the thinking seems to go, when you can instead embody a half-dozen lazily rendered caricatures, spanning generations, socio-economic backgrounds, and colorful slang lexicons?

And so, just as the mind starts to wander away from the neither remarkable nor well-observed struggles of Tara, her long-suffering and sketchily motivated husband Max (John Corbett), and their two Junospeak-afflicted children (we meet the daughter shortly after she's taken the Morning After pill; their teenage son, meanwhile, is forced to utter the line, "Aunt Charmaine is a hosebeast," among other humiliations), we're introduced to Tara's alter egos: T, the slutty tween, Buck, the trash-mouthed trucker, and, in a future installment, Alice, the happy 1950s homemaker. We'd prefer a Hills marathon, a Larry the Cable Guy special, and some Leave it to Beaver to this. At least there's some authenticity in that artifice.

Of signing on for the series, Collette has said, "I never even contemplated working in TV. And this script arrived and as soon as I finished it I closed the last page and said, 'I have to do this.' It's so well-written, it's like a dream job." We hope that was T talking, because watching the finished product was also something of a dream—one of those meandering and pointless dreams that seems to last forever, but fails to provide a single memorable moment when it's over. The United States of Tara isn't just bad. It's bad four times over.

• The United States of Tara [sho.com]

Some background: An Edmonton local named Johnny Brian Altinger went mysteriously missing early in October after setting up an internet date with a woman he had never met. Cops seized a screenplay by filmmaker Twitchell in which a male killer who works in a forensics unit (just like Dex) lures "a cheating husband to his death through an Internet dating scam in which he pretends to be a woman." In the story, the husband is decapitated with a power saw.

Twitchell was arrested on Halloween night, on suspicion of having enacted out his murderous fantasies on Altinger in his garage (pictured). Told of the development, Dexter EP Melissa Rosenberg admitted the gruesome crime confirmed her worst, "our lovable leading serial killer has finally reaped what he's sown!" fears:

Melissa Rosenberg, the show's executive producer, was visibly shocked on the weekend when she learned about the first-degree murder charges laid against Edmonton filmmaker Peter [sic] Twitchell, an avid Dexter fan.

"Oh Jesus!" she exclaimed. She saw this as a "worst fears" situation — something which had worried the show's creators from the beginning.

"This is a tragic and horrible thing to hear."

"Every time you think you're identifying with Dexter and rooting for him, for us it's about turning that back on you and saying: 'You may think that he's doing good, but he's a monster. He's killing because he's a monster.'"

We suppose this will reignite the TV-violence-begetting-violence debate that has raged since the dawn of Quincy. But really, now— if a deranged murderer is going to lure an innocent to their death, you can't really blame their favorite serial-killer-glorifying show that just happens to fetishize the finer points of blood-spatter physics and scalpel-technique every week. Can you?

• Alleged copycat killing is nightmare come true for Dexter producer [Vancouver Sun]
• 'Killer' garage lures curious [TheStar.com]

Some of us here at HQ are sick of Rita's scrunchy-faced whining. The baby/marriage plotline was sort of inevitable, as they couldn't really have had Dex skulking around an only semi-serious relationship forever. The whole Prado business is... well, it's whatever. We're not really sure where Jimmy Smits' character arc is headed, but we hope it's surprisingly gruesome. Because, you know, that's what this show does best. And, once again, Jennifer Carpenter steals the show as sister Deb, who is getting tangled up not only in an Internal Affairs investigation, but with a sultry guitar-playing CI as well. She sure knows how to pick 'em!

So what say you? Is two more seasons a good thing, or should this show be Saran Wrapped to a table and cruelly put out of its misery?

"Comedy should only be written about sensitive subjects."

"That's my philosophy. To say that we shouldn't have comedies about sensitive subjects is to denigrate comedy. Which to me is a very high art form."

It remains to be seen if this series will fulfill the promise of Juno and establish Cody as the great screenwriting voice of her generation, or if a surface treatment of a serious subject and penchant for dialogue like, "Craptards, mom! Dov Berkleman is coming over tonight to Schoolhouse my Rock, and I need to know if you're the 18-year-old slut or the 58-year-old clarinetist. For seriousballs!" will ultimately leave Tara viewers and Diablo fans alike severely disappointed.

• United States of Tara Preview [/Film]

• Californication [Showtime]

He said Tea gave him an ultimatum: "Get treatment or our marriage is over," a source told the tab, which is riding high after getting former presidential candidate John Edwards to admit his tomcattin'.

"At first, Duchovny tried to lie his way out of trouble, but eventually was overwhelmed with guilt and confessed," The Enquirer contends.

US Weekly concurs that Duchovny, 48, "has a history of indiscretions," according to "multiple sources." The mag claims he put the moves on an extra on his Showtime hit, "Californication." "They ended up making out," alleges a source. "She later heard this wasn't the first time he'd taken special interest in an extra."

Since checking in for a 35-day course at the Meadows rehab center in Wickenburg, Ariz., Duchovny has been visited by his supportive wife, who has been forced to scratch promotional appearances for her new comedy, "Ghost Town."

There's no telling how much of Duchovny's five-week sex rehab stint has yet to be completed, but we suppose if he had to dry out somewhere, "Wickenburg, Arizona" sounds as good a place as any. Still, we wonder if this presages a drop in deep background eye candy when Californication returns for its second season. Should sex-addicted novelist Hank Moody find his way to the Playboy Mansion, will the grotto be filled not with Playboy bunnies but with first-round casting rejects from Lifetime's Fat Friends?

• Cheat sheet found in David Duchovny's Sex Files [NY Daily News]

In 1997, the actor denied rumors that he himself was a sex addict.

"I'm single and I had a long-term girlfriend up until last November," Duchovny told Playgirl magazine. "I have been seen with more than one woman in the last few months, so I'm an easy target for those kind of things."

He continued "I'm not a sex addict. I have never been to those meetings. It's hurtful to my family and if I was involved with a woman in a monogamous relationship, it would be hurtful to her. There was another story claiming I was a neat freak. If I had to choose one of the two, I think I'd rather be a sex addict."

It appears Duchovny chose unwisely, though he'll certainly be raking in awkward, free promotion when Californication returns for its upcoming second season. While we're sure the actor regrets the damage done to his family (as well as that suddenly damaging, soul-baring interview to Playgirl — but they were so friendly!), we can't say we're that surprised. After all, this is the man who sullied the polite tradition of tea time forever by posing with a cup covering areas that only Dana Scully is meant to investigate. If the truth is out there, we really shoulda seen this coming.

• David Duchovny Enters Rehab for Sex Addiction [Us]

The best part, though? According to reports (excerpted after the jump) the Weinsteins are actually paying Showtime to air their product:

[I]n an unusual twist, the indie distributor apparently will make an advance "bonus" payment of as much as $100 million to the pay cable channel.

As in other pay TV deals, Showtime would parcel out payments to the Weinsteins according to the performance of the various films at the domestic boxoffice — minus the prepayment, which is essentially a discount on the amount Showtime will owe the supplier.

Declining to discuss the financial terms of the deal, the Weinstein Co. co-chief Harvey Weinstein called the suggestion of a prepayment clause "rumor and innuendo" but added that in his opinion, the deal is "a game-changer" for his company.

The only game we see changing is Showtime's, which blew off Paramount, Lionsgate and MGM (the Weinsteins' original cable partner) demands three months ago and which, before yesterday, didn't have a theatrical output deal in place. That it achieved not only that, but got the distributor to pay for it, thus underwriting a good chunk of the original programming it needs to keep its carriers happy? That's awesome.

Granted, it's TWC — the $100 million is widely perceived as insurance against the day when Matt Blank's hotline to Harvey bounces back with an automated disconnection message. And regardless of whether or not Harvey pulls out the big '08-'09 he's planning — Gawker's analysis seems to suggest otherwise — Showtime will need more than Tarantino Oscar bait to fill its slate (its Viacom divorce partner CBS Films is good for roughly 30-40 projects in that time). But as marriages of convenience go, we've seen worse. Anyway, it's hard to resist the idea of the new Showtime as something of a mail-order bride. Best of luck to all!

• Weinstein Co. inks deal with Showtime [THR]

Proving that truly great actors don't even need lines to turn you into a laughing-while-weeping mess, our Celia found herself sharing a cell with the makeover-happy Chita, who decided to make Celia "her special girl." Meaning, use her as a voodoo doll dressed in the kind of clothing we see gathering dust in our grandmother's attic and wearing rouge so red we're in pain just imagining Perkins scrubbing it off after shooting. But as much as we enjoyed our trippy half hour with the knee-deep-in-shit Weeds-ers, we're slightly apprehensive about next week's episode's theme: euthanasia. Getting high off your TV set is sort of interesting, but we have yet to ponder the delights of assisted suicide.

• WEEDS [Showtime]

To summarize, the town of Agrestic is burning. Relocation means somehow entering Andy’s mother’s old house equipped with a barking doorbell, the charm of which is entirely lost on the Botwins and their smiling-through-gritted-teeth realization that an imaginary attack dog has been freaking them out for years. Though the presence of the dead grandmother is revealed eerily by little public masturbator Shane, our favorite moment occurs when Nancy, the epitome of how a jaded suburban adulthood spent in Southern California renders the smart ones barely conscious, lists the 10-year old Rad’s many accomplishments: “He’s read the whole Narnia series, and now he’s moved on to His Dark Materials which he likes, his favorite dragon is the komodo dragon and he thinks dodgeball is gay.” Dibs on Rad ten years from now.

• 'WEEDS' SETS SHOWTIME RATINGS RECORD [THR]
• WEEDS [Showtime]