'John From Cincinnati' surfs into the sunset

Farewell, "John From Cincinnati," we hardly knew ye.

Or, to be more accurate, we hardly understood ye.

HBO confirmed today that the David Milch-created drama "John From Cincinnati" will not return for a second season. The show, which was critically pummeled for its dense storylines that eschewed logic, ends its 10-episode run with last Sunday's episode.

(Photo courtesy HBO)

Um, OK.

So John and Shaun return from what I can only assume is a Laird Hamilton-style surfing tow-in from heaven, outfitted in stylish camo wetsuits.  Shaun has become as incomprehensible as John when asked about where the duo went.  (He replies "Cincinnati.")  John rambles something to Linc about 9-11-14, like he's suddenly read the Book of Revelation and wants to jabber about it.  Cass films the whole scene with her video camera, which has magic Wi-Fi capabilities.  Other hit men come from Hawaii and wander around.  A TV newscaster recognizes Tina from porn.  And Linc convinces the whole family -- John included -- to sign with Stinkweed and have a parade to celebrate Shaun's return.  Mitch stops levitating after the deal is done, which is good because treatment for levitation is totally not covered under Stinkweed's HMO.

And with that, "John From Cincinnati" throws in the towel.

I know that this show has been talking about it for two weeks, but color me surprised:  Shaun is gone. Hey, who thought narrative foreshadowing would actually come to fruition on this show?

Cissy wakes up and finds Shaun missing from his bedroom, leaving behind his wetsuit.  None of the cast of characters knows where the boy has gone off too -- and Vietnam Joe says the last person he saw him with was John.  Of course, Shaun only disappeared after he signed a contract with skeezy surfing promoter Linc, so who knows what side of the good vs. evil divide his soul has been given to?

In the closing minutes of last week's episode, John told Cass that Shaun would soon be gone.  Gone how?  Dead gone?  Gone surfing?  Gone fishing?   Gone to Sea World with his porny mom to escape the rest of his whack-job family? Because, at least in the short term, that's where Shaun has gone off to.

In Sunday's episode, however, John manages to spread the word of his premonition about Shaun -- and causes panic in the process.  In something straight out of 2002's "The Ring," John creates an Internet video that gets pushed to the websites and the dreams of Clan Yost and their hangers-on.  The video is a loop of John sitting in front of a black sheet with a half-drawn stick figure chalked on it in white.  John repeats over and over that Shaun will soon be gone.  And that's it.  (Instead of the video causing death, of course, it makes viewers wish they were dead, I guess.)

Wow, it was a regular issue of the Wall Street Journal during this episode, with the workplaces and finances of the major characters coming to the forefront.  Mind you, it still made no sense whatsoever, but it was nice to see the players involved in something related to the real world, instead of reenacting scenes from the Bible in parking lots with special guest star Beetlejuice.

Cissy and Kai are doing their best to run the surf shop into the ground by missing their shifts and closing the shop early.  Cissy has an ugly run-in with one of the attorneys representing the hospital that "saved" Shaun's life -- and, as it turns out, the place has an ulterior motive to screw over the good doctor who resigned his post after he treated him.  The renovation of the no-tell motel continues, if you consider repaving a small section of concrete "renovation."

And after an attempt to blackmail him, Linc winds up getting a $65-million buyout from his surf company, Stinkweed.  (Seriously.)  It certainly gives him the freedom and the cash to woo the Yost family full time -- and it appears as though the father-son combo of Butchie and Shaun may soon be hitting the waves together.  (Patriarch Mitch, for the second week in a row, is MIA.  Cissy hypothesized that he might be on another astral plane -- hey, anything is possible.)

And John's job?  It still appears to be goofball predictions.  After disappearing for the majority of the episode, he returns to tell Cass, who was fumbling around with the editing of her movie, that "Shaun will be gone soon."  What, again?  For real this time?  I mean, how many times can he be resurrected by the kiss of a bird, really?

-- Ann Donahue

(Photo courtesy John P. Johnson /HBO)

Let's imagine a conversation between the Rebecca De Mornay of 1983, fresh off of playing working girl Lana in "Risky Business," and the Rebecca De Mornay of 2007, currently playing surfing matriarch Cissy Yost in "John From Cincinnati":

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, beautiful women always get stuck playing prostitutes but, you know, it was a fun movie and that cutie Tom Cruise seemed like a real up-and-comer. Totally not weird at all.

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, as you get older, there's much talk of roles for women of a certain age -- the famous line is that you're either playing the babe, the district attorney or the grandmother. And admittedly, I am playing a grandmother in this show.

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, but you're a totally hot grandmother! Irrationally hot! Almost chronologically-impossible-to-be-a-grandmother hot!

Cissy-era De Mornay: Why, thank you. But all that aside, I think I've managed to put a twist on the ol' grandma routine.

Lana-era De Mornay: How so?

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, in Sunday night's show, my character was revealed to be an incestuous pederast!

... to ask the big question about this show. No more vague Milchian shenanigans like we saw on Sunday night's episode, where there was more talking to parakeets, luchadors, a rainstorm in Southern California (as if!) and Shaun's birth mother showing up, leading to the shrill, paranoid, crazy-lady meltdown of Rebecca De Mornay's character. All of this may or may not be connected, or important, or interesting. Take a deep breath and clear your mind of all this.  Now we must face the ultimate query: HBO ditched "Deadwood" for this?

Hey Doctor Smith, welcome aboard. In Sunday's episode, Shaun's doctor from the hospital resigned his post, unable to reconcile the boy's injuries with his lickety-split healing. He was having the de rigeur crisis of faith for a man of science - did he just witness a miracle, as the newspaper proclaimed on its front page?  To try to get a better sense of what's going on with the Yost family, he headed over to the Not-So-OK Corral, the hotel where Butchie lives, and uncovered...well, nothing. Pretty much just a mess of people acting in an irrational way.

On some level it was nice to have a character who is so directly a stand-in for the viewing audience at home.

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John From Cincinnati': Papa don't preach

Um, OK.

So John and Shaun return from what I can only assume is a Laird Hamilton-style surfing tow-in from heaven, outfitted in stylish camo wetsuits.  Shaun has become as incomprehensible as John when asked about where the duo went.  (He replies "Cincinnati.")  John rambles something to Linc about 9-11-14, like he's suddenly read the Book of Revelation and wants to jabber about it.  Cass films the whole scene with her video camera, which has magic Wi-Fi capabilities.  Other hit men come from Hawaii and wander around.  A TV newscaster recognizes Tina from porn.  And Linc convinces the whole family -- John included -- to sign with Stinkweed and have a parade to celebrate Shaun's return.  Mitch stops levitating after the deal is done, which is good because treatment for levitation is totally not covered under Stinkweed's HMO.

And with that, "John From Cincinnati" throws in the towel.

I know that this show has been talking about it for two weeks, but color me surprised:  Shaun is gone. Hey, who thought narrative foreshadowing would actually come to fruition on this show?

Cissy wakes up and finds Shaun missing from his bedroom, leaving behind his wetsuit.  None of the cast of characters knows where the boy has gone off too -- and Vietnam Joe says the last person he saw him with was John.  Of course, Shaun only disappeared after he signed a contract with skeezy surfing promoter Linc, so who knows what side of the good vs. evil divide his soul has been given to?

In the closing minutes of last week's episode, John told Cass that Shaun would soon be gone.  Gone how?  Dead gone?  Gone surfing?  Gone fishing?   Gone to Sea World with his porny mom to escape the rest of his whack-job family? Because, at least in the short term, that's where Shaun has gone off to.

In Sunday's episode, however, John manages to spread the word of his premonition about Shaun -- and causes panic in the process.  In something straight out of 2002's "The Ring," John creates an Internet video that gets pushed to the websites and the dreams of Clan Yost and their hangers-on.  The video is a loop of John sitting in front of a black sheet with a half-drawn stick figure chalked on it in white.  John repeats over and over that Shaun will soon be gone.  And that's it.  (Instead of the video causing death, of course, it makes viewers wish they were dead, I guess.)

Wow, it was a regular issue of the Wall Street Journal during this episode, with the workplaces and finances of the major characters coming to the forefront.  Mind you, it still made no sense whatsoever, but it was nice to see the players involved in something related to the real world, instead of reenacting scenes from the Bible in parking lots with special guest star Beetlejuice.

Cissy and Kai are doing their best to run the surf shop into the ground by missing their shifts and closing the shop early.  Cissy has an ugly run-in with one of the attorneys representing the hospital that "saved" Shaun's life -- and, as it turns out, the place has an ulterior motive to screw over the good doctor who resigned his post after he treated him.  The renovation of the no-tell motel continues, if you consider repaving a small section of concrete "renovation."

And after an attempt to blackmail him, Linc winds up getting a $65-million buyout from his surf company, Stinkweed.  (Seriously.)  It certainly gives him the freedom and the cash to woo the Yost family full time -- and it appears as though the father-son combo of Butchie and Shaun may soon be hitting the waves together.  (Patriarch Mitch, for the second week in a row, is MIA.  Cissy hypothesized that he might be on another astral plane -- hey, anything is possible.)

And John's job?  It still appears to be goofball predictions.  After disappearing for the majority of the episode, he returns to tell Cass, who was fumbling around with the editing of her movie, that "Shaun will be gone soon."  What, again?  For real this time?  I mean, how many times can he be resurrected by the kiss of a bird, really?

-- Ann Donahue

(Photo courtesy John P. Johnson /HBO)

Let's imagine a conversation between the Rebecca De Mornay of 1983, fresh off of playing working girl Lana in "Risky Business," and the Rebecca De Mornay of 2007, currently playing surfing matriarch Cissy Yost in "John From Cincinnati":

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, beautiful women always get stuck playing prostitutes but, you know, it was a fun movie and that cutie Tom Cruise seemed like a real up-and-comer. Totally not weird at all.

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, as you get older, there's much talk of roles for women of a certain age -- the famous line is that you're either playing the babe, the district attorney or the grandmother. And admittedly, I am playing a grandmother in this show.

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, but you're a totally hot grandmother! Irrationally hot! Almost chronologically-impossible-to-be-a-grandmother hot!

Cissy-era De Mornay: Why, thank you. But all that aside, I think I've managed to put a twist on the ol' grandma routine.

Lana-era De Mornay: How so?

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, in Sunday night's show, my character was revealed to be an incestuous pederast!

... to ask the big question about this show. No more vague Milchian shenanigans like we saw on Sunday night's episode, where there was more talking to parakeets, luchadors, a rainstorm in Southern California (as if!) and Shaun's birth mother showing up, leading to the shrill, paranoid, crazy-lady meltdown of Rebecca De Mornay's character. All of this may or may not be connected, or important, or interesting. Take a deep breath and clear your mind of all this.  Now we must face the ultimate query: HBO ditched "Deadwood" for this?

Hey Doctor Smith, welcome aboard. In Sunday's episode, Shaun's doctor from the hospital resigned his post, unable to reconcile the boy's injuries with his lickety-split healing. He was having the de rigeur crisis of faith for a man of science - did he just witness a miracle, as the newspaper proclaimed on its front page?  To try to get a better sense of what's going on with the Yost family, he headed over to the Not-So-OK Corral, the hotel where Butchie lives, and uncovered...well, nothing. Pretty much just a mess of people acting in an irrational way.

On some level it was nice to have a character who is so directly a stand-in for the viewing audience at home.

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John From Cincinnati': The end is near

I know that this show has been talking about it for two weeks, but color me surprised:  Shaun is gone. Hey, who thought narrative foreshadowing would actually come to fruition on this show?

Cissy wakes up and finds Shaun missing from his bedroom, leaving behind his wetsuit.  None of the cast of characters knows where the boy has gone off too -- and Vietnam Joe says the last person he saw him with was John.  Of course, Shaun only disappeared after he signed a contract with skeezy surfing promoter Linc, so who knows what side of the good vs. evil divide his soul has been given to?

In the closing minutes of last week's episode, John told Cass that Shaun would soon be gone.  Gone how?  Dead gone?  Gone surfing?  Gone fishing?   Gone to Sea World with his porny mom to escape the rest of his whack-job family? Because, at least in the short term, that's where Shaun has gone off to.

In Sunday's episode, however, John manages to spread the word of his premonition about Shaun -- and causes panic in the process.  In something straight out of 2002's "The Ring," John creates an Internet video that gets pushed to the websites and the dreams of Clan Yost and their hangers-on.  The video is a loop of John sitting in front of a black sheet with a half-drawn stick figure chalked on it in white.  John repeats over and over that Shaun will soon be gone.  And that's it.  (Instead of the video causing death, of course, it makes viewers wish they were dead, I guess.)

Wow, it was a regular issue of the Wall Street Journal during this episode, with the workplaces and finances of the major characters coming to the forefront.  Mind you, it still made no sense whatsoever, but it was nice to see the players involved in something related to the real world, instead of reenacting scenes from the Bible in parking lots with special guest star Beetlejuice.

Cissy and Kai are doing their best to run the surf shop into the ground by missing their shifts and closing the shop early.  Cissy has an ugly run-in with one of the attorneys representing the hospital that "saved" Shaun's life -- and, as it turns out, the place has an ulterior motive to screw over the good doctor who resigned his post after he treated him.  The renovation of the no-tell motel continues, if you consider repaving a small section of concrete "renovation."

And after an attempt to blackmail him, Linc winds up getting a $65-million buyout from his surf company, Stinkweed.  (Seriously.)  It certainly gives him the freedom and the cash to woo the Yost family full time -- and it appears as though the father-son combo of Butchie and Shaun may soon be hitting the waves together.  (Patriarch Mitch, for the second week in a row, is MIA.  Cissy hypothesized that he might be on another astral plane -- hey, anything is possible.)

And John's job?  It still appears to be goofball predictions.  After disappearing for the majority of the episode, he returns to tell Cass, who was fumbling around with the editing of her movie, that "Shaun will be gone soon."  What, again?  For real this time?  I mean, how many times can he be resurrected by the kiss of a bird, really?

-- Ann Donahue

(Photo courtesy John P. Johnson /HBO)

Let's imagine a conversation between the Rebecca De Mornay of 1983, fresh off of playing working girl Lana in "Risky Business," and the Rebecca De Mornay of 2007, currently playing surfing matriarch Cissy Yost in "John From Cincinnati":

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, beautiful women always get stuck playing prostitutes but, you know, it was a fun movie and that cutie Tom Cruise seemed like a real up-and-comer. Totally not weird at all.

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, as you get older, there's much talk of roles for women of a certain age -- the famous line is that you're either playing the babe, the district attorney or the grandmother. And admittedly, I am playing a grandmother in this show.

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, but you're a totally hot grandmother! Irrationally hot! Almost chronologically-impossible-to-be-a-grandmother hot!

Cissy-era De Mornay: Why, thank you. But all that aside, I think I've managed to put a twist on the ol' grandma routine.

Lana-era De Mornay: How so?

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, in Sunday night's show, my character was revealed to be an incestuous pederast!

... to ask the big question about this show. No more vague Milchian shenanigans like we saw on Sunday night's episode, where there was more talking to parakeets, luchadors, a rainstorm in Southern California (as if!) and Shaun's birth mother showing up, leading to the shrill, paranoid, crazy-lady meltdown of Rebecca De Mornay's character. All of this may or may not be connected, or important, or interesting. Take a deep breath and clear your mind of all this.  Now we must face the ultimate query: HBO ditched "Deadwood" for this?

Hey Doctor Smith, welcome aboard. In Sunday's episode, Shaun's doctor from the hospital resigned his post, unable to reconcile the boy's injuries with his lickety-split healing. He was having the de rigeur crisis of faith for a man of science - did he just witness a miracle, as the newspaper proclaimed on its front page?  To try to get a better sense of what's going on with the Yost family, he headed over to the Not-So-OK Corral, the hotel where Butchie lives, and uncovered...well, nothing. Pretty much just a mess of people acting in an irrational way.

On some level it was nice to have a character who is so directly a stand-in for the viewing audience at home.

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John From Cincinnati': Wait, where's Naomi Watts?

In the closing minutes of last week's episode, John told Cass that Shaun would soon be gone.  Gone how?  Dead gone?  Gone surfing?  Gone fishing?   Gone to Sea World with his porny mom to escape the rest of his whack-job family? Because, at least in the short term, that's where Shaun has gone off to.

In Sunday's episode, however, John manages to spread the word of his premonition about Shaun -- and causes panic in the process.  In something straight out of 2002's "The Ring," John creates an Internet video that gets pushed to the websites and the dreams of Clan Yost and their hangers-on.  The video is a loop of John sitting in front of a black sheet with a half-drawn stick figure chalked on it in white.  John repeats over and over that Shaun will soon be gone.  And that's it.  (Instead of the video causing death, of course, it makes viewers wish they were dead, I guess.)

Wow, it was a regular issue of the Wall Street Journal during this episode, with the workplaces and finances of the major characters coming to the forefront.  Mind you, it still made no sense whatsoever, but it was nice to see the players involved in something related to the real world, instead of reenacting scenes from the Bible in parking lots with special guest star Beetlejuice.

Cissy and Kai are doing their best to run the surf shop into the ground by missing their shifts and closing the shop early.  Cissy has an ugly run-in with one of the attorneys representing the hospital that "saved" Shaun's life -- and, as it turns out, the place has an ulterior motive to screw over the good doctor who resigned his post after he treated him.  The renovation of the no-tell motel continues, if you consider repaving a small section of concrete "renovation."

And after an attempt to blackmail him, Linc winds up getting a $65-million buyout from his surf company, Stinkweed.  (Seriously.)  It certainly gives him the freedom and the cash to woo the Yost family full time -- and it appears as though the father-son combo of Butchie and Shaun may soon be hitting the waves together.  (Patriarch Mitch, for the second week in a row, is MIA.  Cissy hypothesized that he might be on another astral plane -- hey, anything is possible.)

And John's job?  It still appears to be goofball predictions.  After disappearing for the majority of the episode, he returns to tell Cass, who was fumbling around with the editing of her movie, that "Shaun will be gone soon."  What, again?  For real this time?  I mean, how many times can he be resurrected by the kiss of a bird, really?

-- Ann Donahue

(Photo courtesy John P. Johnson /HBO)

Let's imagine a conversation between the Rebecca De Mornay of 1983, fresh off of playing working girl Lana in "Risky Business," and the Rebecca De Mornay of 2007, currently playing surfing matriarch Cissy Yost in "John From Cincinnati":

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, beautiful women always get stuck playing prostitutes but, you know, it was a fun movie and that cutie Tom Cruise seemed like a real up-and-comer. Totally not weird at all.

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, as you get older, there's much talk of roles for women of a certain age -- the famous line is that you're either playing the babe, the district attorney or the grandmother. And admittedly, I am playing a grandmother in this show.

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, but you're a totally hot grandmother! Irrationally hot! Almost chronologically-impossible-to-be-a-grandmother hot!

Cissy-era De Mornay: Why, thank you. But all that aside, I think I've managed to put a twist on the ol' grandma routine.

Lana-era De Mornay: How so?

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, in Sunday night's show, my character was revealed to be an incestuous pederast!

... to ask the big question about this show. No more vague Milchian shenanigans like we saw on Sunday night's episode, where there was more talking to parakeets, luchadors, a rainstorm in Southern California (as if!) and Shaun's birth mother showing up, leading to the shrill, paranoid, crazy-lady meltdown of Rebecca De Mornay's character. All of this may or may not be connected, or important, or interesting. Take a deep breath and clear your mind of all this.  Now we must face the ultimate query: HBO ditched "Deadwood" for this?

Hey Doctor Smith, welcome aboard. In Sunday's episode, Shaun's doctor from the hospital resigned his post, unable to reconcile the boy's injuries with his lickety-split healing. He was having the de rigeur crisis of faith for a man of science - did he just witness a miracle, as the newspaper proclaimed on its front page?  To try to get a better sense of what's going on with the Yost family, he headed over to the Not-So-OK Corral, the hotel where Butchie lives, and uncovered...well, nothing. Pretty much just a mess of people acting in an irrational way.

On some level it was nice to have a character who is so directly a stand-in for the viewing audience at home.

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John From Cincinnati': Satan gets a golden parachute

Wow, it was a regular issue of the Wall Street Journal during this episode, with the workplaces and finances of the major characters coming to the forefront.  Mind you, it still made no sense whatsoever, but it was nice to see the players involved in something related to the real world, instead of reenacting scenes from the Bible in parking lots with special guest star Beetlejuice.

Cissy and Kai are doing their best to run the surf shop into the ground by missing their shifts and closing the shop early.  Cissy has an ugly run-in with one of the attorneys representing the hospital that "saved" Shaun's life -- and, as it turns out, the place has an ulterior motive to screw over the good doctor who resigned his post after he treated him.  The renovation of the no-tell motel continues, if you consider repaving a small section of concrete "renovation."

And after an attempt to blackmail him, Linc winds up getting a $65-million buyout from his surf company, Stinkweed.  (Seriously.)  It certainly gives him the freedom and the cash to woo the Yost family full time -- and it appears as though the father-son combo of Butchie and Shaun may soon be hitting the waves together.  (Patriarch Mitch, for the second week in a row, is MIA.  Cissy hypothesized that he might be on another astral plane -- hey, anything is possible.)

And John's job?  It still appears to be goofball predictions.  After disappearing for the majority of the episode, he returns to tell Cass, who was fumbling around with the editing of her movie, that "Shaun will be gone soon."  What, again?  For real this time?  I mean, how many times can he be resurrected by the kiss of a bird, really?

-- Ann Donahue

(Photo courtesy John P. Johnson /HBO)

Let's imagine a conversation between the Rebecca De Mornay of 1983, fresh off of playing working girl Lana in "Risky Business," and the Rebecca De Mornay of 2007, currently playing surfing matriarch Cissy Yost in "John From Cincinnati":

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, beautiful women always get stuck playing prostitutes but, you know, it was a fun movie and that cutie Tom Cruise seemed like a real up-and-comer. Totally not weird at all.

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, as you get older, there's much talk of roles for women of a certain age -- the famous line is that you're either playing the babe, the district attorney or the grandmother. And admittedly, I am playing a grandmother in this show.

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, but you're a totally hot grandmother! Irrationally hot! Almost chronologically-impossible-to-be-a-grandmother hot!

Cissy-era De Mornay: Why, thank you. But all that aside, I think I've managed to put a twist on the ol' grandma routine.

Lana-era De Mornay: How so?

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, in Sunday night's show, my character was revealed to be an incestuous pederast!

... to ask the big question about this show. No more vague Milchian shenanigans like we saw on Sunday night's episode, where there was more talking to parakeets, luchadors, a rainstorm in Southern California (as if!) and Shaun's birth mother showing up, leading to the shrill, paranoid, crazy-lady meltdown of Rebecca De Mornay's character. All of this may or may not be connected, or important, or interesting. Take a deep breath and clear your mind of all this.  Now we must face the ultimate query: HBO ditched "Deadwood" for this?

Hey Doctor Smith, welcome aboard. In Sunday's episode, Shaun's doctor from the hospital resigned his post, unable to reconcile the boy's injuries with his lickety-split healing. He was having the de rigeur crisis of faith for a man of science - did he just witness a miracle, as the newspaper proclaimed on its front page?  To try to get a better sense of what's going on with the Yost family, he headed over to the Not-So-OK Corral, the hotel where Butchie lives, and uncovered...well, nothing. Pretty much just a mess of people acting in an irrational way.

On some level it was nice to have a character who is so directly a stand-in for the viewing audience at home.

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John From Cincinnati': Yeah, they really went there

Let's imagine a conversation between the Rebecca De Mornay of 1983, fresh off of playing working girl Lana in "Risky Business," and the Rebecca De Mornay of 2007, currently playing surfing matriarch Cissy Yost in "John From Cincinnati":

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, beautiful women always get stuck playing prostitutes but, you know, it was a fun movie and that cutie Tom Cruise seemed like a real up-and-comer. Totally not weird at all.

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, as you get older, there's much talk of roles for women of a certain age -- the famous line is that you're either playing the babe, the district attorney or the grandmother. And admittedly, I am playing a grandmother in this show.

Lana-era De Mornay: Yeah, but you're a totally hot grandmother! Irrationally hot! Almost chronologically-impossible-to-be-a-grandmother hot!

Cissy-era De Mornay: Why, thank you. But all that aside, I think I've managed to put a twist on the ol' grandma routine.

Lana-era De Mornay: How so?

Cissy-era De Mornay: Well, in Sunday night's show, my character was revealed to be an incestuous pederast!

... to ask the big question about this show. No more vague Milchian shenanigans like we saw on Sunday night's episode, where there was more talking to parakeets, luchadors, a rainstorm in Southern California (as if!) and Shaun's birth mother showing up, leading to the shrill, paranoid, crazy-lady meltdown of Rebecca De Mornay's character. All of this may or may not be connected, or important, or interesting. Take a deep breath and clear your mind of all this.  Now we must face the ultimate query: HBO ditched "Deadwood" for this?

Hey Doctor Smith, welcome aboard. In Sunday's episode, Shaun's doctor from the hospital resigned his post, unable to reconcile the boy's injuries with his lickety-split healing. He was having the de rigeur crisis of faith for a man of science - did he just witness a miracle, as the newspaper proclaimed on its front page?  To try to get a better sense of what's going on with the Yost family, he headed over to the Not-So-OK Corral, the hotel where Butchie lives, and uncovered...well, nothing. Pretty much just a mess of people acting in an irrational way.

On some level it was nice to have a character who is so directly a stand-in for the viewing audience at home.

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John From Cincinnati': The time has finally come ...

... to ask the big question about this show. No more vague Milchian shenanigans like we saw on Sunday night's episode, where there was more talking to parakeets, luchadors, a rainstorm in Southern California (as if!) and Shaun's birth mother showing up, leading to the shrill, paranoid, crazy-lady meltdown of Rebecca De Mornay's character. All of this may or may not be connected, or important, or interesting. Take a deep breath and clear your mind of all this.  Now we must face the ultimate query: HBO ditched "Deadwood" for this?

Hey Doctor Smith, welcome aboard. In Sunday's episode, Shaun's doctor from the hospital resigned his post, unable to reconcile the boy's injuries with his lickety-split healing. He was having the de rigeur crisis of faith for a man of science - did he just witness a miracle, as the newspaper proclaimed on its front page?  To try to get a better sense of what's going on with the Yost family, he headed over to the Not-So-OK Corral, the hotel where Butchie lives, and uncovered...well, nothing. Pretty much just a mess of people acting in an irrational way.

On some level it was nice to have a character who is so directly a stand-in for the viewing audience at home.

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John From Cincinnati': Faith healer

Hey Doctor Smith, welcome aboard. In Sunday's episode, Shaun's doctor from the hospital resigned his post, unable to reconcile the boy's injuries with his lickety-split healing. He was having the de rigeur crisis of faith for a man of science - did he just witness a miracle, as the newspaper proclaimed on its front page?  To try to get a better sense of what's going on with the Yost family, he headed over to the Not-So-OK Corral, the hotel where Butchie lives, and uncovered...well, nothing. Pretty much just a mess of people acting in an irrational way.

On some level it was nice to have a character who is so directly a stand-in for the viewing audience at home.

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John From Cincinnati': That vision thing

The current issue of Outside magazine features Brian Van Holt, who plays Butchie Yost, on the cover, and inside, writer Jon Cohen pays on on-set visit to talk about the mystique of the show with David Milch. Milch, in explaining the title character, tells Cohen: "'John purifies intentions,' Milch tells me at one point, likening the character to a mirror others can peer into and see themselves. 'If I could explain it fully, I wouldn't have to tell this story.'"

This quote, to me, is less than comforting. So Milch is working out some creative issues, and we get to see the process? That's...interesting, I suppose. But I'm not so sure how rewarding it is to the viewer. The most recent episode moves the plot along, yes, but Milch's modus operandi of doing so without elucidating any of the characters' motives is increasingly maddening.

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John from Cincinnati': High tide, low tide

After last week's pilot, which seemed like an hour-long, heatstroke-induced mirage, John from Cincinnati coalesced into some sort of coherence this week. I mean, there was still talk of haunted hotels, churros, random earthquakes and waaay too much detail about bathroom habits, but it seems as though the show has divided into two major tales: the burgeoning surfing career of Shaun Yost, and the mysterious antics of the titular John, whose becoming Butchie's best friend since he manages to heal - without the laying on of hands, even! - the addict's drug-induced hangover.

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.

'John from Cincinnati': The Kahuna has spoken

O mighty oracle David Milch. Let's go through your resume, shall we? We have "Hill Street Blues," followed by "NYPD Blue," and then, most recently, "Deadwood." This gives me hope that somehow, sometime, "John from Cincinnati" will pull together and make some kind of sense. Sure, HBO's latest has all of Milch's rat-a-tat-tat mellifluously profane chatter -- which is worthwhile just to listen to, kind of like poetry read aloud -- but anything that's presented under the guise of narrative television needs to be something more than free verse.