Here’s the full press release, courtesy the Atlanta-based cable network’s media-relations department:

Golden Globe winner Scott Bakula (”Quantum Leap”) has signed to join Ray Romano and Andre Braugher in TNT’s new character-driven drama pilot “Men of a Certain Age” a wry look at what it means to be a guy approaching mid-life while also exploring the unique bonds of male friendship. The show follows three guys who have been best friends since college. Now in their 40s, they’re finding that life is indeed, as John Lennon once said, “what happens when you’re making other plans.”

Bakula will play Terry, a handsome, intelligent but struggling-to-make-it actor. His character rounds out the trio that also includes Joe (Romano), a slightly neurotic divorced father of two who had dreams of being a professional golfer but instead owns and runs a party store, and Owen (Braugher), an overstressed African-American husband and father who is a car salesman at his dad’s dealership.

Bakula’s long list of credits includes the acclaimed sci-fi series “Quantum Leap,” for which he won a Golden Globe, and “Enterprise,” the latest entry in the Star Trek universe. He has also played recurring characters on “Murphy Brown” and “The New Adventures of Old Christine.” Bakula’s films include American Beauty, Life as a House and Major League: Back to the Minors. An accomplished musical performer, he has starred in productions of Shenandoah, Three Men Naked from the Waist Down, Romance/Romance, earning a Tony nomination for the latter.

In addition, two-time Emmy winner Scott Winant has signed on to direct the pilot. Winant’s extensive credits include such series as “Huff,” “Canivale,” “Californication” and “thirtysomething.”

“Men of a Certain Age” comes to TNT from Emmy winners Romano and Mike Royce. Romano wrote the pilot script with Royce, who also serves as show runner. The pair are executive-producing the project with Rory Rosegarten and Cary Hoffman.

(Image courtesy Amazon.com)

Airing on Atlanta’s Cartoon Network from 2003-2006, “Teen Titans” featured a theme song by perky Japanese twosome Puffy Ami Yumi and a peculiar but effective blend of serious, arcing episodes and zany comic relief. Funny scenes would draw on manga-style caricature: throbbing veins would appear on angry characters’ heads, hearts would bubble up for lovesick ones, and even odder exaggerations would appear that gave the show’s humor a fresh, funny attitude. The show’s fifth and final season is my favorite, as it pits the Teen Titans against an iconic supervillian team called The Brotherhood of Evil; pop references come even more quickly (including nods to Doctor Who’s Daleks and The Incredibles). Plus, it reinforces my theory that the show’s creators patterned the five Titans after the main characters of John Hughes’ beloved 1980s film, The Breakfast Club.

Both the teen crime fighters and the high school detention servers comprise a quintet sharply delineated “types,” each of which is familiar from high school experience (or movies and TV shows about teen life). Sometimes the comparisons fit perfectly, others are more of a stretch, but here they are. For convenience sake, I’ll use the Breakfast Club actor names rather than dig up their characters.

Raven = Ally Sheedy. This is the most obvious one. Although Sheedy’s character is not an extradimensional witch and Raven is not a “basket case,” they’re both Goth stereotypes to a T, with dark clothes, dark attitudes and deadpan wit. Plus they don’t say much and tend to keep to themselves. (Incidentally, Raven’s voice actress said she based her performance not on anyone you’d think of, but on Zelda Rubinstein’s diminutive paranormal investigator from Poltergeist — you can hear a similar quaver in the voice if you listen for it.)

Beast Boy = Anthony Michael Hall. OK, shape-changing, green-hued Beast Boy isn’t a “brain” like Hall’s Breakfast Club character, but they’re both the “geeks” of the group, and the characters have nearly identical nervous, self-deprecating senses of humor. Possibly he’s more like Hall’s “Farmer Ted” role from Sixteen Candles.

Cyborg = Emilio Estevez. Estevez was the jock; Cyborg had been a jock before the crippling accident that led to the mechanical replacement of much of his body. True, Cyborg’s personality is a little more confrontational, so you could make a case that he’s more like Judd Nelson in the movie. (Incidentally, I’ll bet if The Breakfast Club were remade today, the five students would be a little more diverse.)

Starfire = Molly Ringwald. Well, Starfire is an alien princess and Ringwald’s character is identified as the “princess” of the bunch, and Starfire is outgoing, apparently likes the mall and would probably be popular. Their personalities are kind of dissimilar, though. Since Starfire’s a alien and has kind of the comedic awkwardness of a foreign exchange student (she was apparently written that way for the show), she might be more accurately pegged as the Teen Titans’ equivalent to Sixteen Candles’ Long Duck Dong.

Robin = Judd Nelson. OK, this is might be a reach, since Robin doesn’t make an obvious “criminal.” But on the show, he’s not the wisecracking sidekick that he used to be with Batman (ceding the comic relief to the other characters). He’s actually got a pretty significant dark side: on the first season he masquerades as a thief to entrap the mystery evil-doer Slade, and later, Slade blackmails him into becoming his criminal apprentice. The Robin vs. Slade dynamic represents “teen independence vs. adult authority,” which is basically the same as Judd Nelson vs. Paul Gleason’s nasty school principal. Plus, Robin’s the leader of the Teen Titans, and Judd Nelson’s character, if not the stated leader, is the catalyst that spurs the Breakfast Club into action.

I stayed up past my bedtime last night getting caught up on “Battlestar Galactica” episodes on Hulu. “BSG” isn’t as easy to watch on-line as, say “Lost,” which has the full library of its episodes available on demand on the ABC website, with the new ones going up the day after broadcast. Hulu posts the new “BSGs” eight days after air date, and takes them down about three weeks later, so if you snooze, you lose.

“Battlestar Galactica” recently aired its “mid-season” finale for its fourth and final season. The terminology’s a little confusing, but what happened was, the show produced 10 fourth season episodes before the writer’s strike, and just finished broadcasting them. The remaining 10 episodes have apparently been filmed, but Sci Fi may not complete the show’s run until 2009.

The last episode ended with the kind of jaw-dropping, how-will-they-deal-with-THAT twist that’s the show’s speciality, but overall the fourth season has been a head-scratcher. The most critically respected of any space opera TV series, the reboot of the 1970s Star Wars knock-off won over skeptics with its fusion of sci-fi conventions (space ships, killer robots) and sociopolitical themes drawn right from the post-9/11 zeitgeist (abuse of authority, torture, terrorism, paranoia, etc.) A certain amount of spirituality also informed the show, driving the human characters’ quixotic search for the mythic planet “Earth.” The fourth season’s promotional cast photo, shown above, even riffs on “The Last Supper,” and this year the mystical mumbo-jumbo has superceded the political allegories.

Some of the spiritual content perfectly fits the characters’ development, like the way President Roslin (Mary McDonnell) has been wrestling with terminal cancer, or (less obviously) the way Lt. Kara Thrace (Katee Sackhoff) experiences inexplicable visions that point the way to Earth. In one of the weirdest, most contrived plot points, though, the conniving Gaius Baltar (James Callis) has become the devout leader of a cult-like religious sect populated almost entirely with comely women. In an intriguing wrinkle, Baltar prosthelytizes for the God of the monotheistic Cylons, who resembles the deity of the Christian faith. Still, we’ve bought Baltar as humanity’s traitor, a Quisling, puppet president and war criminal, but making him Jim Jones in space is like one twist too many.

The whole season has been marked by series regulars behaving either out of character or having their identities changed. The romance between Commander Adama (Edward James Olmos) and Roslin has been one of the show’s warmest touches, but the relationship chipped away at Adama’s impeccable military professionalism in ways that are hard to accept. This season has been dealing with last year’s big surprise that four regulars are in fact robotic Cylons, a detail unknown not only to themselves, but the other Cylons as well. The secret of the “Final Five” Cylons has fired lots of on-line speculation and fueled some juicy subplots (particularly the ones involving Michael Hogan’s crusty Col. Tigh and Rekha Sharma as the show’s latest femme fatale). But the revelations seem to have painted the show into a corner.

One can only hope that the endgame, no matter how far off it’ll be, will provide satisfying answers. Fortunately, “BSG” creator Ron Moore and the rest of the show’s brain trust generally seem more sure-footed at setting up and resolving long arcs than the creators of “Lost” have been. And “Battlestar Galactica” has been and will doubtlessly continue to be exciting and eminently watchable. It wouldn’t keep me up nights if it wasn’t.

(Image courtesy of Sci Fi/Universal)

Jordan will be plenty busy over the next few days, starting Saturday with a book-release appearance at Outwrite Books. The reading/signing starts at 7:30 p.m.; admission is free. He follows that up with a two-night stand at the 14th Street Playhouse with his one-man show of the same name, Sunday and Monday at 8 p.m.

Unfortunately, the status of the sitcom “12 Miles of Bad Road” (in which he co-stars) seems hopelessly up in the air, according to this article in the San Francisco Chronicle. Anyone know anything different? Perhaps Leslie will enlighten us, in a way only he can, as he shows in this clip taken during his recent Stonewall Columbus fundraiser.

We mentioned the Telly Award-winning program in one of our first PopSmart blog posts back in November, so we’re excited to see what happens on Saturday. Jack Walsh and Gordon Ray are the nominated producers of the show, and do an impressive job of providing witty polish to a type of community program that, when not in the right hands, can run on the dull side. This stuff is compelling work, though, reminding Atlantans just how diverse its city really is.Speak of the Tellys, “TIA” is running a “greatest-hits” collection of its Telly-winning program this month. The program won four Tellys: a Bronze for each of its profiles of Georgia Tech’s Robert C. Williams Paper Museum, the Artaxi (my personal favorite), and the Burn Unit breakdance troupe, and a Silver (first place) for the episode that featured the Legynds role-playing group (pictured), the painting elephants at the Atlanta Zoo, Indie Craft Experience, Dragon*Con and Segway Tours.The episode began running last week, but there are plenty of other opportunities to be seen:Friday, June 20, 11:30 p.m.Monday, June 23, 9:40 p.m.Thursday, June 26, 8 p.m.Sunday, June 29, midnightIf you’re impatient and don’t mind watching them on the smaller screen, you can visit the PBA website and watch them here.Also, if you have a tough time catching “This Is Atlanta,” you’re not alone. Due to programming challenges, the show has no set time schedule — although it’s nice to know it runs so frequently throughout the month. July’s episode, currently in production, includes profiles of wheelchair football, kinetic sculpture, and the decidedly funky Seed & Feed Marching Abominable. Look for the confirmed schedule when we review the show next month.(Photo courtesy Jack Walsh)

I wonder whether the media grievers gave a moment of thought to how this Russert torrent they produced played with viewers and readers. Did the grievers really think Russert was so important, so vital to the nation’s course, and such an elevated human being that he deserved hour upon hour of tribute?

There’s also nice pulled quotes from the New York Times‘ Mike Liebovich’s remembrance, which fairly and objectively points out some of Russert’s possible flaws, including my favorite: “Mr. Russert liked to seem sheepishly above-it-all, but was also as acutely status-conscious, befitting the local water.”

What irked me most about Russert was what felt like more than a newsman’s obsession with politics as gamesmanship (a flaw he shared with another former political operative, George Stephanopoulos). His Red State/Blue State carping during the 2002 mid-term elections practically helped make the terms mainstream, which is a shame considering how that kind of jargon has dumbed us all down.

Russert also labored to the point of exhaustion in becoming the news, and oddly his colleagues have lauded him for this. During Sunday’s episode of “Meet the Press,” which fell just short of a circle jerk, Russert was remembered fondly by trying to badger one politician after another into saying with absolute certainty whether they were or weren’t running for higher office. It’s that obsession with “gotcha” journalism that has weakened the profession, and Russert reveled in it. And by the end, it just felt like a cheap gimmick for the show. But what bothered me most about Russert’s eulogies was how he is painted as excessively fair-minded in his challenging interviews. Upon closer scrutiny, they only underscore his “gotcha” mentality, lifting quotes and throwing them at Democrats and Republicans alike, hoping for the embarrassing moment more than the extended dialog.

Which isn’t to say I disliked Russert. Broadcast journalism is worse for his absence. Just look at all the NBC and affiliated network shows he graced. He was a driven journalist who truly seemed to understand far more than most that obsessive preparation and research is the key to newscasting and interviewing. But what do all his many shows and appearances say about him, and NBC? Russert became a giant because he wanted to make himself one, but also because (it could be argued) NBC suffered and still suffers from a dearth of real hard-news talent. Quick: Think of a potential replacement on “Meet the Press” alone, from the NBC stable. David Gregory? Yikes! Andrea Mitchell? Perhaps. I’d take her or PBS’ Gwen Ifill, a Russert acolyte, but it’s no coincidence that former news anchor Tom Brokaw has been doing a lot of the heavy lifting during the Russert tribute week. No one else at NBC has anywhere near the necessary gravitas.

Let me rephrase that. “The Spectacular Spider-Man” (airing at 10 a.m. Sundays in Atlanta) improves on Spider-man 3 in one way. The show might not look very promising at first: its animation has a sketchy, rudimentary look, with an anime-influence that gives the characters hilariously oversized eyes. As a kid-friendly show, it makes for safe viewing with kindergartners while blunting some of its potential edge.

However, “The Spectacular Spider-Man” unexpectedly takes advantage of a popular trend in TV shows: the drawn-out, arcing narrative. While the old 1960s “Spider-man” cartoons sometimes felt like a stretch at less than 15 minutes, “Spectacular” confidently lets subplots and character relationships build over time. Peter Parker’s relationships move gradually through highs and lows, while evil masterminds engineer outlandish villains to stop him every episodes. Over time, you notice that the writing holds up better than you’d expect.

“Spectacular’s” treatment of a popular Spidey villain called Venom makes for the sharpest contrast with Spider-man 3. The Tobey Maguire film drew frequent criticism for coincidences that staggered the suspension of disbelief even in committed fanboys. Early in the film, a meteorite containing a gooey alien “symbiote” just happens to land, unnoticed, only a few feet from Peter Parker. It follows him home, crawls over his body and shapes itself into that spiffy black Spider-man costume. Parker gradually realizes that the symbiote is turning him into a Jekyll-and-Hyde personality, so he peels it off in a church belfry. The symbiote practically lands on the head of Parker’s rival Eddie Brock, who provides a more willing host and becomes the fanged Venom. The show even foreshadows a Brock/symbiote relationship before they “hook up.”

The coincidences didn’t bother me much, since you can justify them thematically, with Brock, for instance, resembling Peter Parker’s nasty alter ego. “Spectacular,” however, finds pretexts for the plots that are consistent with the show’s comic-book setting. Brought to earth on a space shuttle, the symbiote is brought to a lab where Parker and Brock both work (they begin as friends with a mutual interest in science). Spider-man connects with the symbiote when trying to keep it from being stolen and he eventually rids himself of it in a church belfry (designed to resemble the film scene). He returns the symbiote to the lab and tries to destroy it, but Brock frees and bonds with it out of carefully-established grudges against Parker and Spider-man alike.

You could argue that the show’s Venom arc takes place over more than four episodes, giving it more leeway than the film. Maybe, but without commercials, that’s still about 90 minutes of running time, and Spider-man 3 was well over two hours long. It turns out that on “The Spectacular Spider-man,” the writing is a bigger draw than the spectacle. The movie didn’t quite realize the same message.

In fact, Marvel Studios (the movie-making division of the venerable comic book company) showed remarkable confidence in the Hulk as a potential screen star (not to mention faith in Transporter 2 director Louis Leterrier as a filmmaker) by buying back the rights to the character and essentially making the film “in-house,” much like it did with Marvel’s other superhero movie of this summer, Iron Man. So far, Marvel’s two-for-two in making films, although Iron Man has more across-the-board appeal, while The Incredible Hulk will please action fans and followers of the comic book.

The surprising thing about the film, however, is that it’s such a love letter to “The Incredible Hulk,” the 1978-1982 TV series that starred Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno. Here’s the opening credits, including that famous catch-phrase:

It’s hard to imagine studio executives or movie audiences clamoring for a big screen version of the Bixby/Ferrigno show, which kept the Hulk’s superheroic roots at arm’s length. If you wanted to see superpowers and special effects fight scenes, “The Incredible Hulk” played more like a remake of “The Fugitive,” punctuated by rampages from a muscleman in green body paint.

Even if it wasn’t a classic, as a weekly TV series, “The Incredible Hulk” worked, at least by the standards of 1970s action program like “The Six Million Dollar Man.” Banner’s lonely travels had an appropriate level of pathos, given the Jekyll and Hyde premise. Meanwhile, Banner’s enraged “hulk outs” could be unexpectedly funny: these clips show Banner transforming into the Hulk based on such mundane triggers as a traffic jam and an uncooperative telephone operator. Who wouldn’t want to hulk out and trash stuff, just once?

Leterrier’s Incredible Hulk offers footnotes and shout-outs to everything in the original series from its opening credits, the sad “Lonely Man” piano music, dogged reporter Jack McGhee and even the late Bill Bixby. Ferrigno not only has an on-screen cameo, he provides the six or so words of the Hulk’s spoken dialogue. Partly this serves as straight-up nostalgia, but it has storytelling value, too. Leterrier’s film turns the show’s fugitive elements into a manhunt tale equivalent to The Bourne Supermacy for the first act. It’s sort of like the way Jon Favreau’s Iron Man partially emulates the James Bond films: a comic book story can benefit from following a proven cinematic (or television) narrative model.

It’s just as well, though, that The Incredible Hulk didn’t dig this up:

But “Top Chef” eluded me for years mainly on the argument that there was really no way for me to “judge” whether or not the resultant work was any good. And so, generally speaking, it all came down to the drama, and even during those unavoidable Bravo marathon screenings of the series — helpful at times, annoying the other 90 percent of the time — I just couldn’t get on board. Until now.

This fourth season represents a breakthrough, probably due to the presence of Atlanta’s own finalist, Richard Blais, who not only seems to be the most talented of the group but also seems the most level-headed. (For a chef, mind you. Those folks are nut-jobs! And some of them are friends of mine.) So Blais is in the final three after Antonia was bumped in last week’s part-one finale. The final finale hits the screen Wednesday at 10 p.m. I’m pulling for Blais, natch.

Whoever won, judge and chef Tom Colicchio ain’t talking, at least not in his interview posted this morning on Salon. But he does talk about almost everything else. Whether he likes to admit it or not, Colicchio is great TV; he’s the Simon Cowell of the judges even though he says he tries not to be nasty in his assessments. (“I don’t mug for the camera,” he tells Salon. Yeah, right!) Maybe not, but he’s brutally honest. He’s laser-sharp in his critiques, but you can tell he also likes to make blanket statements that sometimes ring just a bit hollow. I remember popping in one time a couple years ago and he was all indignant about a dish that essentially had not graced an oven and was served cold. When one judged questioned why that was such a big deal, Colicchio snapped, “It’s a cooking show. He’s supposed to cook,” or some such nonsense. (Actually, it’s a chef show, Tom. Try some sushi.)

One thing I love about the interview is how he takes fans to task for criticizing the judges’ decisions, as if viewers can taste the dishes the judges do. (Which was my original problem with the show, but of course I’ve slightly gotten over it.) The comment came in response to a question about why Dale, a popular contestant, was booted off. Colicchio’s response:

I wasn’t there that night. When I saw the episode the night it aired, I could see why people were upset. But I didn’t taste the food. And this is what I keep lecturing people about when they say we make bad decisions. I think, “Great, I’m glad you were next to me eating food. I don’t remember seeing you.”

So where is everyone with Adam Sandler? As we head into the weekend and what feels like the zillionth vehicle, You Don’t Mess With the Zohan, I’m at a complete loss as to whether to consider Sandler a legitimate comedic talent of his generation. It’s been long enough since his departure from his mugging days on “Saturday Night Live,” and he now has what we haughtily refer to as a “body of work” to start wondering where he belongs in the grand scheme of things. Will Zohan be the decider? I guess we’ll literally have to see.

While the film is checking in at a woeful 35 percent on the old Tomato-meter on Rotten Tomatoes, further research reveals a more divided camp — especially when you start reading the more smarty-pants reviewers. The decided majority opinion falls in with those like the Globe and Mail’s Rick Groen, who writes:

Mess with The Zohan if you like, but be prepared for the consequences. This picture is to comedy what carpet bombing is to aerial warfare: The onslaught is so relentless that occasional direct hits on the funny bone are a statistical guarantee. As for any lingering wounds suffered by the more cerebral parts of the anatomy, chalk them up to collateral damage and consider it the price of laughter, Adam Sandler style.

Others seem to have almost the same observation, but are more forgiving in their ultimate assessment. Salon’s Stephanie Zacharek, for example, qualifies it thusly: “You can tsk-tsk Sandler’s penchant for dumb, crass humor all you want, but there’s some meaning behind his madness. Is there nothing more human, more humbling, than the idea of smelly feet?” Or as the New York Times‘ A.O. Scott put it: Let me be blunt: You Don’t Mess With the Zohan is the finest post-Zionist action-hairdressing sex comedy I have ever seen. That it is the only one I have ever seen … does not much detract from my judgment.”

Still, the trailer, like many for Sandler vehicles, makes me want to run incredibly fast in the other direction:

There are those (and I’ve tried to be among them), who think that Sandler was on the verge of an intriguing career turn when he started taking on more dramatic roles. While I didn’t see Reign Over Me, I was tempted after reading Curt Holman’s take on Sandler. (Curt’s two-star rating, despite the presence of the great Don Cheadle, warded me off.)

Unlike many funnymen who try to play it straight, Sandler can achieve a stillness on camera, as opposed to a stiffness, and can tease out his silences until we’re intrigued by what’s going on in his head. Perhaps he doesn’t act much with his eyes, but in Reign Over Me, that suits his closed-off character. With his shaggy hair, stubbly chin and drawn features, Charlie looks a little like Bob Dylan.

Some don’t buy Sander’s quest for dramatic validity. There are those who believe that, in Punch-Drunk Love, for example, Sandler can harness the manic energy that often borders on rage for comedic effect into something dramatic and dark (but not darkly funny). However, Felicia Feaster didn’t see a whole lot of acting growth in Punch-Drunk Love.

Like Robin Williams or Jim Carrey, currently refashioning irritating comic personas into complex psychos and soulful Lonely Guys, Adam Sandler’s performance in Punch-Drunk Love has been characterized as a more complicated riff on his usual idiot boys. But in truth, Sandler in Punch is just playing a more low-key version of the adorable goofuses he’s made his living from, the kind of holy fools we’re supposed to love in spite of ourselves.

Felicia wasn’t much kinder in her take on the James L. Brooks romantic comedy-drama, Spanglish (does Brooks make any other?), which seems like a golden opportunity for Sandler to kind of split the difference, to speak: use comedy and drama together. She wasn’t buying it.

In grown-man mode — and as a romantic lead — Sandler requires an enormous suspension of belief. Sandler’s range could be measured in inches. He offers two emotive buttons: shrieking like one of his patented teenage imbeciles to express passion and then mumbling into his collar like some shy puppy dog to convey sensitivity.

While I still think that Sandler can be funny, he remains too much of an under-achiever after all these years. That he’s fastened himself on to the magic wand of Judd Apatow, who helped him out on the script with “SNL” mainsteay Robert Smigel, still makes me wonder. Maybe that’s because I’m still stinging from the last time I saw Sandler, in a remake of one of my favorite movies, The Longest Yard. (Maybe it’s because he butchered one of my favorite movies.) As Curt put it: “Sandler’s detractors won’t mind seeing him imprisoned and beaten for the first half-hour.” (UPDATE: Sandler is scheduled to reunite with Apatow, his former roommate, on an as-yet-untitled project to be released next year.)

(Image courtesy of Columbia Pictures)