Leave it to Jeebus

OK, right. Network executives these days have to reach as far as Plastic Man to come up with a situation they hope might attract viewers to a situation drama. And so it came to pass that the descendent of "Father Knows Best" and "Leave it to Beaver" is a maudlin and convoluted miasma of dysfunction called "The Book of Daniel."

This overloaded vehicle stars Aidan Quinn as the hunky Reverend Daniel Webster, a liberal Episcopalian not-so-divine who has been driven by the incessant rasping of his bishop and immediate superior, the file-voiced Beatrice (Ellen Burstyn) to finding solace in pharmaceuticals rather than the arms of Jesus. What makes this odd is that his best pal is none other than his equally hunky counterpart -- Jesus (none other, played by Garret Dillahunt), who stands around looking mournful whenever the Rev pops another Vicodin, but mercifully and gently upbraids his bud in modern vernacular, rather than affecting the tortured syntax and antique vocabulary of King James.

Daniel's got a witch's brew of trouble at home, too. His daughter is a dope dealer, his grown son discreetly gay, and his adopted Chinese son devoted to football and spreading his seed among the local blossoms. Worst of all, his wife slams about half a dozen screwdrivers for breakfast every morning.

"Father Knows Best" it ain't.

Rev. Dan's faith doesn't seem to avail, nor does his impeccable pedigree (he's descended from the famous nineteenth-century politician of the same name). This is definitely a job for Jesus. And fortunately, Jesus is right out there in the garage, sharpening the lawnmower blades as he plans the guest list for the rapture.

The whole premise of this mess is just silly. When I was a kid it was enough for a situation program to just have a regular family where everybody was heterosexual and drug free except for that tiny cup of watery coffee in the morning, and the dad always wore a suit (did he sleep in that suit?) and smoked an unlit pipe and mom always wore a dress and heels at home, and she had a hair helmet with six coats of verathane on it, and the kids got in trouble for keeping a frog in a drawer and blaming it on Lumpy, and they ate things like stuffed bell peppers with creamy marshmallow sauce for dinner and appeared to be as normal as anyone can be when they eat that kind of drek, and Jesus always stayed right where he belonged -- nailed up behind the altar at the local church.

Were things better then? I can't answer that question. I've always had a feeling that Ward and June Cleaver were aliens who unzipped their human skins when the kids were in school, and went out to the garage and ate tire lint.

But they didn't show that part on t.v., like they do now.