They say there are five seasons in LA: spring, summer, autumn, winter and pilot. Every year, thousands of pilots (singular episodes outlining a television series) are pitched and perhaps about four or five of these pilots are produced, and of those, one or two are picked up for an entire season.

    Enter Mike (David Duchovny), a bearded, struggling writer whose pilot, 'The Wexler Chronicles' is picked up to be produced. He's your typical artsy type who hopes to make a statement with his product. The suits don't see it that way and they give him nothing but pressure from day one. Mike sees his vision compromised in nearly every facet, whether it's not getting the actor he wants cast, to changing the entire premise to avoid something "depressing". This is the Duchovny post-X-Files. He's worn out, getting old, bearded and he just doesn't bring it. He's bored with the role of Mike, and rightfully so. Thank the makers this is an ensemble piece, because Duchovny could not hold it together with his thinly drawn and poorly portrayed character.

    When the film works, it works. Those of you who work in the industry will no doubt find familiarity in many of the situations, from two-faced agents to executives who don't have a clue as to what people like watching. It's hard to gauge whether these people will laugh more or less, because some of the scenes are frighteningly dead on.

    The characters never rise above their outlines, with the exception of Richard McAllister (Ioan Gruffudd), a legendary television exec from across the pond. He feels awkward in this vapid land of glitz and glamour, and he generally wants to make Mike's project the way Mike sees it, but the demands from Lennie (Sigourney Weaver), the head executive at the network, throw him into a moral quagmire that would've been the driving force of another movie. His is the most, and perhaps only, arc the movie really has and Gruffudd, sporting his native British accent shines in a role that shows that, hey, he could do a great Reed Richards if given the material! He made every scene he was in better, and helped drag his co-stars down to reality.

    Being "too broad" is something the film does, which is odd, because the characters talk about being "too broad" in relation to acting. Everyone hams it up to near stereotypical levels. The worst offender is Weaver, who desperately tries to grab the scenes away with her not quite connected to reality demeanor. You can see her trying with every word. Her Lennie is a self-parody, sure we dislike her in that comedic sort of manner, but only because we're supposed to. Meryl Streep played the evil corporate matriarch far better in 'The Devil Wears Prada'. Sigourney, take notes.

    The saving grace is Zach (Fran Kanz), who injects life into the proceedings. He's over the top, but he's supposed to be. His character has some nice moments, like when he does a monologue with a slight DeNiro accent, but is callously cast aside. The last scene of the movie gives an inkling of his jealousy and popularity, but the camera cuts away from him the moment things start to get interesting.

    Director Jake Kasdan (son of yes, that other Kasdan) doesn't give his characters room to exist, and as such, they only end up, well, characters and never real people. Clocking in at under 90 minutes, the film never lags, but it sure could have been longer. Plot threads are started and prematurely dismissed, and leaps in time break the flow of certain scenes and we are sometimes left hanging as to what exactly happened. McAllister's wife has her own developing storyline, but then suddenly, she's gone and we have to be informed as to her fate. With some more fleshing out, this could be a guaranteed crowd pleaser, instead of the marginally appealing film it is.

    Worse still is that the film is so ho-hum. It's a by the numbers little comedy that offers us no new insight or even laughter into the workings of a television. Kasdan, who worked on the legendary cult series 'Freaks and Geeks', should know better. Given the rocky life of 'Freaks', I imagine this is supposed to be his scathing, satirical "fuck you" to the suits, but he ends up falling straight in line: making something that isn't original, that's been done better by betters.

    With behind the scenes movies, there are two you need to worry about: Truffaut's 'Day For Night' and Tom DiCillo's 'Living In Oblivion'. 'The TV Set' definitely takes cues from each, and to a certain degree it succeeds. But the irreverency and subtle, cynical love of creation found in every frame of both those films is sadly missing. If you want to show your television students why they shouldn't get into the business, especially the creative side, then show them 'The TV Set'.