One reason, and one reason only: The music.
Not the hip adult alternative songs demonstrating each week how much their musical tastes overlap with Zach Braff’s. I’m talking about the grating instrumental background music.
Here’s the thing — the music is also a major irritation for me in Desperate Housewives, though the breaking point for me with that show was the fact that Felicity Huffman, Emmy or no Emmy, is totally wasted in that one-note role. In DH, pizzicato strings are the rough equivalent of porn music. (Yes, “womp-chickabomp-BOWWW” music.) They cue the strings, and we hear Mary Alice talking about death and psychologically scarred kids like she’s gossiping about someone’s cleavage-baring dress. (“We all have our secrets … whether it’s that dress we tried to return for store credit after getting it dirty … or the fact that we’re harboring a cannibalistic serial killer in our basement …”)
I believe Grey’s Anatomy has added a celesta to the pizzicato strings. Or maybe it’s all just a synthesizer with a random bell added to some lame string sound. It sounds like someone is trying to do a production of The Nutcracker while we’re all wondering if George will ever get laid again after Meredith burst out crying in the middle of their premaritals. (Wow, seriously — that’s harsh. It’s a bit of a blow to the male ego to know that whatever you’re doing provides such scant distraction from whatever else is going on in someone’s head. On the other hand, Paris Hilton spent most of that tape practicing silly poses for the camera, blissfully oblivious to the act in progress, and yet that guy seemed to think the tape was flattering. Some men really are that clueless. OK, where was I?)
So anyway — the music just doesn’t work for me. I find it so irritating that it keeps from watching a show I otherwise would watch. Is that crazy?
Background music also was a factor in my shunning of The X-Files. Just a bit creepy for my tastes.