Our Endorsement: ‘Friday Night Lights,’ Season 3

Here at BlackBook, we give you so many other things to do besides watching TV. That being said, it's winter, it's cold, and we like ourselves a night in every now and then. With the announcement that three beloved ABC shows are probably getting the axe -- the charming Pushing Daises, the somewhat charming Dirty Sexy Money, and the totally abysmal, overwrought Eli Stone -- one has to wonder where to get their BoobTube kicks. Entourage, It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, and Californication are almost finished with their seasons. Gossip Girl can only do so much. What to do? Fortunately, the best season of television isn't actually on television yet: the third season of Friday Night Lights.

FNL, the Peter Berg-produced drama about a small West Texas town and the lives of its citizenry—which tend to revolve around high school football—was barely picked up for a third season, riding a wave of across-the-board critical acclaim after mediocre ratings nearly sunk the show. The deal places the first airing rights with not-cable “cable-satellite” service Direct TV, and then NBC gets to air the show to everyone who doesn’t have Direct TV. It’s kind of a brilliant scheme; you know your favorite show is only available in one place, it’s airing right this second, and you can do nothing about it. You’re just gonna have to either (a) buy in or (b) wait it out. It’s torture. But we’ve managed to see it—our, uh, friends have Direct TV—but we hear that you can download the show illegally. Not that we endorse stealing something that’s eventually going to be going for free soon regardless. Right? Right. Anyway: We managed to see it, and it’s really, really, really good.

Friday Night Lights isn’t just about high school football. This is the one thing that needs to be explained to everyone who has yet to see the show. The games don’t actually take precedence as a storyline so much as they are a center of gravity for which all the drama runs to and from. Each crisis (other than a mediocre murder accident in the second season) the show’s characters experience is substantial and mapped out from onset to conclusion. Their reactions are written with brilliant, restrained minimalism and acted by a seamless ensemble, without contrivance or overwrought performances. The entire thing is a brilliant construct of a close-to-home reality. Kind of like The Hills, but smart, entertaining, touching, funny, accessible, and, yes, deep.

The third season was clearly budgeted at less than the others—big, epic, expensive music licensing moments aren’t as present as they were in seasons past. The setups and scenery aren’t as elaborate. Main characters—staples of the show’s previous seasons—are doing guest appearances for three- to four-episode arcs. Things just feel paired down. Yet instead of taking the show low, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to it. Everything feels more substantial. The drama feels more contained, more concentrated. And they’re forced to wrap up beloved storylines without stretching for big, sweeps-like moments. That’s probably not the kind of thing on the line for them, assuming they even want a fourth season (after fighting so hard for the third). If only every showrunner for TV knew this and believed it. It’s the story, stupid.

Anyway. Find someone you know who has Direct TV, find someone you know with kleptomania and a high-speed Internet connection, or find someone you know on the inside at NBC. Find a way to watch it—we promise, it’s worth it.