1.78:1 Widescreen

“You're the good kind of addict. You're the I-got-messed-up-with-the-wrong-girl-and-ended-up-on-a-blow-bender addict. But Ertz is the Skeevy-old-man-who-got-caught with-a-crack-pipe-and-the-17-year-old-from-Speed-Racer addict.”

Where season seven of Entourage was all about the hard life and times of Vinnie Chase (Adrian Grenier) and company stumbling through the shallow traps of an impossibly expensive Hollywood lifestyle: i.e. growing addictions, porn star girlfriends, and desperate career moves, Entourage: The Complete Eighth Season is all about redemption through hard choices. It picks up as a newly clean and sober Vincent is released after a 90 day stint in rehab, and his cohorts scramble to provide a safe environment for him.

The wife and I have spent quite a few weekends within the last year going to antique shops and malls, flea markets and basically any place where we might go through a pile of stuff to find that one special item for our collection. The search has produced many interesting items and it brings us joy to see all of the items that simply do not show up in a retail store. Today, we are reviewing American Pickers volume 3, a show that lives on the art of finding that next treasure by going through America’s backyards.

For those who are not familiar with what exactly is American Pickers about, here is a short synopsis There are these two guys, Mike Wolfe and Frank Fritz who roam the United States in search of knick knacks, car parts, collectibles, anything that will bring them money. A picker. Their method is somewhat unorthodox as they actually visit people’s homes, storage sheds, and any other place where somebody might store their collection.

-"And what do I say when they ask me why it wasn't regulated?"
-"No one wanted to. We were making too much money."

At first glance, sitting down to watch a film about the financial meltdown of 2008 seems only slightly more fun than going through the actual meltdown again. Fortunately, director Curtis Hanson (L.A. Confidential) and a towering ensemble cast — I felt like I'd died and gone to Character Actor Heaven — mostly keep Too Big to Fail away from CNBC territory and deliver a brisk, entertaining film.

"I'm Rick Harrison, and this is my pawn shop. I work here with my old man and my son, Big Hoss. Everything in here has a story ... and a price. One thing I've learned after 21 years? You never know what is going to come through that door."

Remember that PBS show where some old-stuff expert would come to your town and sift through a lot of junk that folks found in their basements or attics? Remember that he would give you a story about the items these people brought in? The idea was that once in a while someone discovered valuable treasure in those dusty rooms. Remember that show? This isn't that show. It does, however, have some things in common with the old PBS program.

"I'm Brad Meltzer. I've spent my life collecting stories. The best include signs, symbols, and coded messages that are hidden in plain sight. Some have become the basis for my novels. But I've only scratched the surface of what's out there, and now History has given me the resources to investigate the rest. This is Decoded."

What if I told you there was an author out there who was known for writing novels that include historical conspiracies, secret societies and buried treasures, and that this author has found a way to parlay his moderate writing success into a television series for History?

“Ugh. How many times do I have to explain this to you? If you see the neighbor's house getting broken into, it's probably Karl high out of his mind thinking he's locked out of our house.”

When it comes to office based slacker comedies, Mike Judge’s Office Space still sets the gold standard. Workaholics wishes it could be as quotable and timeless as Office Space, but settles for goofy, instantly forgettable juvenile ramblings suitable for a stoner’s short term memory. Much like the boy’s prank of choice, involving a dollar bill wrapped around poop, Workaholics looks good on the surface, but is pretty much the same old crap underneath.

"Make no mistake. Blood will be spilled. Lives will be lost. Fortunes will be made. Men will be ruined. There will be betrayal and scandal and perfidy of epic proportions."

With a statement like that, how can you not want to check out AMC's newest drama series Hell On Wheels? I've been told the title sounds like it's about motorcycle gangs, and I couldn't agree more. The term refers to the mobile tent city that housed the workers on the Union Pacific Railroad and the support entourage the camp attracted. It was a virtual tent city that had all of the essentials: a church, bar, and whorehouse. It was just after the Civil War, and the American government believed that a railroad connecting the East and West coasts was just the kind of project the country needed to pull back together and heal still-festering wounds. As one of the filmmakers accurately points out, this was the Apollo moon project of the day. Long believed impossible by the brightest engineers of the day, the railroad would cut the time it took to go from coast to coast from six months to just under seven days. It was a truly remarkable feat, and it carried with it more than a fair dosage of corruption and blood. Now AMC has brought those days from 1865 back to our television screen with an ambitious and smartly produced series. It's a must see.

"I'm yelling for society, for everybody! It's not just me!"

That's Larry David chastising a dog walker who didn't bring along a bag to clean up after her pooch, but that statement also tidily summarizes the premise of Curb Your Enthusiasm. After 11 years, seven seasons and 70 episodes of over-analyzing and kvetching — and after pulling off an incredibly well-received Seinfeld reunion in season 7 — a small part of me wondered if David had anything left to complain about heading into season 8. I should've known better.

For most of the last decade or more CBS has dominated the primetime drama market on network television. One of the reasons, of course, has been the prevalence of top-flight crime dramas like the NCIS and CSI franchises. From 2003 until 2009 the Thursday line-up on the eye network included the blockbuster pairing of the original CSI and Without A Trace. Both were products of filmmaker Jerry Bruckheimer's television stable. While CSI focused on the science behind a criminal investigation, Without A Trace took the more traditional route of the human element to the FBI's Missing Persons Unit.

Jack Malone (LaPaglia) was the tough-as-nails head of the unit. He had a degree in psychology and acted very much like a profiler at times. It was his job to direct the investigation unit. The team consisted of Vivian Johnson (Jean-Baptiste). She was a veteran officer and Jack's right hand. Danny Taylor (Muciano) had changed his last name to escape his family roots which included a habitual criminal brother and an abusive father. The unit was his way of starting a new life. Martin Fitzgerald (Close) was the son of a powerful senator and was always fighting to prove himself on his own merits. Samantha Spade (Montgomery) was the young attractive young woman on the team who had already had an affair with the married Jack but also had romantic ties to Martin. Unfortunately, she didn't do much to break the vulnerable female role.

Often in columns, writers are basically forced to do enough research on their own to qualify as experts. But that is not always enough. Sometimes, we are a lot better off if we just consult an expert from the get-go and ask them all of the pertinent questions we need answered. My wife happened to be that expert I needed for the latest season of True Blood, Season Four. Without her, Sookie Stackhouse might just be another girl from the Jersey Shore. Wait, which show am I reviewing again?

What do we need to remember from Season 3, well only two things really. One, Sookie Stackhouse is in Fairyland and two, Bill Compton is the King of Louisiana. Outside of that, we should be able to explain the rest. Let us rejoin the cast of True Blood, shall we?