Published on Thursday, August 28, 2008

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'Psych' should have a spot in your schedule


By DEREK WALKER

I recall a time when all I watched were reruns of “Home Improvement” and “George Lopez” on Nick at Nite. That was last night actually.

Indeed, the majority of my television viewing comes in the form of syndicated programming, but there is a place in my heart for more contemporary shows.

While my friends are either out partying with friends or getting ready to go out and party with friends on Friday nights, I dust off the Jiffy Pop, lock my doors, and set the dial to the USA Network. That is to say I even have Jiffy Pop, let alone edible Jiffy Pop (It’s been a while since I actually went shopping).

Yes, amid the hours of dog shows and tennis matches between two dudes nobody has ever heard of, there is some good programming on this channel. “Psych,” starring James Roday and Dule Hill, is the perfect show for those still entrenched in their childhoods. The majority of the humor revolves around Shawn Spencer’s (Roday) almost obtrusive obsession with ‘80s references and pineapple, and his partner Gus’s (Hill) various reactions. This makes for more than a handful of awkward scenarios and well-placed reaction shots.

[From the episode, “And Down The Stretch Comes Murder”]
Gus: You always gotta hit it right on the nose, don’t you? Why couldn’t I be Crockett?
Shawn: Because, Gus, you stood in front of the entire third grade class and said, “When I grow up, I want to be Phillip Michael Thomas.”
Gus: Well, you said, “I want to be the mascot for the Milwaukee Brewers.”
Shawn: Dude, he’s the biggest sausage in the world!

There are serious moments, too, although they are positioned few and far between the funny. The emphasis of the show is on comedy, but it never hurts to have a feel-good moment along the way. Think of it as “Scrubs” with less Zach Braff and sappy music, the same amount of bizarre character antics and more outlandish psychic-related humor.

At heart, “Psych” is a police detective drama showcasing the sillier, more down-to-Earth side of life on basic cable. The combination of subtle, under-the-radar allusions and quick-witted quips is as delicious to digest as, say, a slice of pineapple.

So while the grunt of the Tool Man still occupies my airwaves six nights of the allotted seven, shows like “Psych” will always have a spot in my schedule.

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