I’ve started to formulate a theory that HBO demands that every non-starring actor that gets a role in one of their series is legally bound to appear in at least one other show on the network. I have zero real proof to back this up, other than noticing that these familiar faces seem to keep popping up. In Vinyl alone, you’ll find Spiros Vondopoulos (Paul Ben-Victor) and Maurice Levy (Michael Kostroff) from The Wire, Richie Aprile (David Proval) from the second season of The Sopranos, the eldest son of Bill and Barb from Big Love (Douglas Smith), and others I’m surely forgetting. What better way to pad out your shows with talent, than to contractually obligate your actors to do it. That is certainly helping a show like Vinyl, as these folks provide a little bit of grounding for the scenery chewing that is going on around them from week to week—like Hal’s Satanic freak out in the American Century offices after being fired, or James Jagger’s constant attempts to recreate Gary Oldman’s performance from Sid & Nancy. Those fine character actors mentioned above may be wasting their time with this overwrought drama, but at least they’re getting paid while they do it.
1. The Nasty Bits write a new song
Is there anyone in the real world that is convinced that that sub-Stooges knockoff that was written for Vinyl’s made-up band is actually good? Just as the pseudo-punk band hits rock bottom, they grab an old bluesy love song from their manager and turn it into dogshit replete with super naughty curse words and music that tries woefully to mash together three different tunes from Fun House into one. For a third of the money the producers likely spent to license “Here Comes The Sun” for the opening scene, they could have hired John Dwyer or Ty Segall to help whip them together an actually great tune.
2. Too much slo-mo
Let’s cut it out with the slow motion already. Leave that to your boss Scorsese, or one of his many directorial acolytes and find another way to add a little dramatic heft to scenes of people walking into a room.