“John from Cincinnati”: A different P.O.V.


I’m man enough to admit I have a guy crush on David Milch. I’ve watched everything he does, and I meanJfcmilchnichols_2   everything. “Hill Street Blues” … watched every episode. Hell, I was a fan of “Bay City Blues.” “Big Apple,” with his good friend Ed O’Neill, was intriguing and smart, but had little chance of succeeding as a midseason replacement where only easy-to-digest series have a chance to thrive.

And as for “NYPD Blue,” I might not have been fanatical about it as much as my friend Alan Sepinwall of the Newark Star-Ledger, who blogged about every episode on his informative “Blue” website, but I was devout. Watched every minute of it. From Caruso’s enthralling first season to Sipowicz’s promotion in the series finale, I was there for every second.

As I write this, I’m staring at my “Deadwood” poster, looking into the steely eyes of Al Swearengen, with Seth Bullock’s hand on his holster and Trixie looking pissed off, in the delicious way only she can. So don’t even get me started on the greatness of “Deadwood.”

Which only adds to my utter disappointment that was “John From Cincinnati.” With all due respect to my Variety colleague and curator of this blog, I think “John” was a monumental misfire, with lessons to be learned all around.

(Pictured above: David Milch, far right, with “John from Cincinnati” stars Luke Perry, left, and Austin Nichols.)

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