charles-53188 I've seen the entire Deadwood series a dozen times, and considered my self a passionate fan of David Milch. Finally got round to watching this train wreck and was lost after three episodes. I only finished it to savour my incredulity via some masochistic urge to wonder why the writer of Deadwood could serve up this volcanic pile of crap, cancelled righteously, and now stone cold. Never been so disappointed as I was with this. I am more than a little interested in mystical stories which offer enlightening insight, yet I found this series exceptionally opaque, lending damage to any concept of spiritual virtue through reasoned obfuscation. As a fan of Deadwood, The actors from that ensemble appearing like pale ghosts in contemporary universe centred on a wasteland without redemption. Speech patterns and quirks of character from Deadwood are thick and abound to the point of alarming rehash, but it's not just sad, it's agonising... Where the misfits in deadwood were bound by a town in the wilderness, there in no reason for this weird and unsympathetic ensemble to hang in each other's orbit. Good bye & good riddance.

mozli From watching the first couple of episodes I wasn't sure what to make of this new series. It was a world that we've seen before, sort of. I mean, we've seen shows about beach communities(Flipper,Baywatch). We've seen shows about strange and wondrous beings among normal human beings(My Favorite Martian, Mork and Mindy and even THE FLINTSTONES w/The Great Gazoo). What distinguishes this story from those other shows is that even though the the situations are vaguely familiar David Milch slows things down and opens up the world to more than the standard situation conflicts that we're accustomed to. When a character can levitate when he's never levitated before is something you would see on 60's TV. But usually that is the only thing weird going on. You don't spend time on a telepathic parrot or a couple of immaculate conceptions. On top of that a lot of hard drug abuse, incest, communication with the afterlife and porn stars. Now with all that going on is Milch's signature writing style that forces the audience to pretty much pay undivided attention to what the characters are saying and what they are doing while they are speaking. Basically, this is another show too smart for its own good. I would have liked a second season. We don't get enough Rebecca DeMornay as it is.

J. Wellington Peevis Show had tons of promise, and created a great texture that was a throwback to the golden television era. But...it just kinda fizzled mid-season, as if they really had no master plan for what was to be, and just ham and egged the plot line. The more they revealed the true nature of the story, the dumber it became. It went from really cool and fresh to the final life-support season of Melrose Place in 5 episodes. I can hyperbole all night here, but i think you get the picture. Disappointing. So I don't know what to make of the whole project. Watch the first 3 episodes only? I cant really say. Personally, I can credit this failed venture with if nothing else turning me on to the amazing music of Joe Strummer, who's Johnny Appleseed backs the opening montage. Now thats good stuff!!

liquidcelluloid-1 Network: HBO; Genre: Drama, Fantasy; Content Rating: TV-MA (for pervasive graphic language and sexual content); Available: DVD; Perspective: Contemporary (star range: 1 - 4); Seasons Reviewed: Series (1 season)An average day in the life of the distant, dysfunctional Yost family starts to get a paranormal twist when a mysterious stranger (Austin Nicols) shows up at the door of Butchie Yost (Brian Von Holt), a washed-up former professional surfer, and insists he should get back in the game. He can only speak by repeating back what is said to him. He can cause father Mitch Yost (Bruce Greenwood) to levitate. He can send images over the internet with cryptic messages. He can make people disappear and he has something to do with a parrot who relays messages to motel resident Bill Jacks (Ed O'Neill) - among other things. A reporter and what may be a secret organization hot on their trail are also thrown in the mix.History will probably record "John From Cincinatti" as the show that aired after "The Sopranos" finale sent the country diving for their cable remotes more prominently than it will mention it as another series from famed "Deadwood" scribe David Milch. It has one of the most lively and fun opening title sequences ever to grace the premium channel. So good, in fact that Milch ("Deadwood") actually flashes back to it in the show's pretentiously empty ending montage. But I'm getting a head of myself.While "John" couldn't be further away from the lawless wild west and Milch's trademark backwards sing-song dialog, it has it's share of frustrations. OK, more than it's share as the show gets increasingly trying with each outburst fueled, narratively empty episode. One of the chief irritations is how crammed it all is. Milch, apparently feeling that the John/Yost storyline wasn't enough crams the periphery with the several guests at a run-down surf-side motel. The HBO/beach bum version of the "quirky colorful characters" you'd see in a "small town" movie.Milch tries to create a world here, surround us with a diverse ensemble and immerse us in a barren self-absorbed California wasteland that contrasts a tourist nightmare of a motel with it's love of the sand and sun of the beach culture. But Milch populates this world with aggressively annoying characters and pushes HBO's freedom to the breaking point with little to nothing to reveal with each episode and paranormal activities whose connection with each other remains locked in Milch's mind after a 1 season cancellation. It is a show about a love of surfing that will probably annoy surfers. A show about the paranormal that will annoy the sci-fi crowd. Where "Deadwood" had a "Sopranos" serial structure, it still moved. "John" has seemingly no structure, spending the entire first season running in place using the blank-faced, parrot-nature of it's title character as a literal screen writing roadblock to keep the story moving anywhere.It's hard to feel for the characters in any way when they are either screaming their lungs out in a fit of melodrama (Rebecca De Morney is the chief offender) or doing things no one can relate to for reasons they, themselves, often have no idea why. Here is the thing. I'm all for weird. I love weird and I love original. But you've got to give me weird with something else. Weird and funny ("Flight of the Conchords"), weird with intelligent storytelling ("Lost") or weird with a swing-for-the-fences David Lynch style of visual poetry ("Carnivale"). "John from Cincinnati" is weird for the sake of weird. I might call it original if I had any idea what the hell it was trying to say. But either way, Milch's bizarre "Roswell" by way of "Step into Liquid" story fails to give us anything to hold onto."John" is another self-indulgent, pretentiously enigmatic TV treadmill whose sole purpose seems to be to send the audience away bored and befuddled and then demand they come back for more if they want to know how it all "fits together". But Milch, unlike J. J. Abrams or David Chase, has yet to earn that trust. Without that it comes off more like "keep watching if you know what's good for you and maybe we'll throw you a bone in a few years". Something tells me this show could have gone on for 5 years and we'd still be standing in the same spot.* / 4