VICIOUS HONESTY LURKING IN SHOWTIME'S "WEEDS"

A comedy about a housewife selling marijuana in the suburbs is so
simultaneously passe and outlandish that you have to hope it's a mask for
something deeper. Showtime's new comedy "Weeds" is all that, yet I'm not
sure the time is worth the dime.

"Weeds," which debuts at 11 p.m. Sunday and airs again at 10 p.m. Monday,
Wednesday and Friday, comes from artful creator Jenji Kohan. She won an
Emmy for work on "Tracey Takes On" and also has written for "Friends," "Sex
and the City" and "Gilmore Girls."

I mention all this because "Weeds" has such an evolved feel - that of a
practiced author not striving for one-liners or mere naughtiness. The
dialogue is smooth, overlapping and effortless, full of subtle shocks. The
pacing and production are top-notch.

"Weeds" concerns Nancy Botwin (Mary-Louise Parker), whose husband has
dropped dead of a heart attack and who is left almost penniless with her
two sons in the psychologically arid and entirely fictional town of
Agrestic, Calif.

The series opens to the tune of that old indictment of suburbia, "Little
Boxes," and as the McMansions materialize on the screen, thoughts turn to
"Desperate Housewives."

But this is misleading; beneath the polite facade, Agrestic is as hard as
an 1880s mining camp. Every character's soul seems to have dried up while
pursuing the good life under the California sun. If "Deadwood" is where
ruthless capitalism takes wing, "Weeds" is where it comes home to roost.

The series is not entirely heartless. Nancy, whose financial problems mount
through the first several episodes, wants to shelter her two children and
keep their home intact. She won't fire the housekeeper whose daughter is
still in court-stenographer's school.

Yet much of the dialogue is harsh - even in the guise of funny - and many
of the actions seem motivated by revenge, greed or a kind of Darwinian
perfectionism that tramples the weak and unattractive.

Nancy's closest friend/rival, Celia Hodes (Elizabeth Perkins), is quick to
mention the telltale evidence of Nancy's declining financial state - the
point being to let Nancy know that she's noticed. Other wives provide a
Greek chorus of gossip, as if "Peyton Place" were being read aloud in catty
whispers.

The men aren't much better. Nancy's accountant and city councilman Doug
Wilson (Kevin Nealon) doesn't just lack ideals - he's a gyroscope of
muddled promises that succumb to basic selfishness. His gay teenage son is
Nancy's chief rival in dealing.

Meanwhile, Celia's husband, Dean (Andy Milder), is hooking up with a tennis
instructor. Celia discovers this at the end of episode one after hiding a
video camera in order to catch her 15-year-old daughter having sex with her
boyfriend, Silas (Hunter Parrish), who happens to be Nancy's son.

In a future episode, Celia takes her other, chubby daughter's secret stash
of chocolate and replaces it with laxatives to make her lose weight.
("Clean her out a bit" are Celia's words.) It's horrifying, though the kid
exacts payback.

For such reasons - and several scene-stealers - Elizabeth Perkins is the
true star of "Weeds." Parker's a fine actress, but even when her character
goes Scarlett O'Hara, she's hobbled by introspection. The role of nasty
Celia lets the dyed-blonde Perkins swagger like a character from the San
Fernando Valley of the Dolls, and she's great.

Nevertheless, the show's constant hum of animosity and relentless skewering
of everything from born-again Christians to medical marijuana clinics can
be a turnoff.

Two elements alleviate it. One is Nancy's relationship with her boys,
particularly the younger Shane (Alexander Gould). Parker, whose role
involves a lot of utterances to no one in particular, appears to thrive on
the tender directness of these exchanges.

"Weeds" also offers a family in contrast to Agrestic's vodka-swigging,
Ambien-numbed, sexually bored residents: the Jameses, who are Nancy's
suppliers and who are black.

The Jameses are dominated by matriarch Heylia (Tonye Patano), a source of
tough business love who demands Nancy's Range Rover as collateral. Other
family members offer their own unsparing observations to Nancy. It's a
lively, warm environment.

This is a dicey roll, and I'm not sure it works. To present an
African-American family as the foundation of "realness" brings us
perilously close to the days when black characters were cast as stereotypes
of spiritual guidance or earthy common sense to their white bosses.

But nobody bosses Heylia, and perhaps the series has a few tricks ahead. I
watched the first three episodes and suspect that Conrad (Romany Malco) -
the best-looking and nicest male on the horizon - is going to share more
with Nancy than just a recipe for THC-laced cornbread.

In the end, weed is just a sideshow on "Weeds." What's distinct is the
vicious honesty. Remember all the splendid dark satire that vanished from
"Desperate Housewives" after a few episodes? Here it is.