[Everything I said in the "Newroom" slide? Repeat it.] Ensemble TV is difficult, because if you set out to give equal, or near-equal time to a half-dozen or a dozen moving pieces and then it turns out that more than half of those moving pieces SUCK, you're stuck servicing them at the expense of everything else. So would I have watched a version of "Smash" in which Jack Davenport's brilliant and egotistical director was the main character? Certainly! Could that show have worked with Anjelica Huston as his financier? Probably. And with Christian Borle as one of the playwrights? I think so. And with Megan Hilty as his brassy, drug-abusing star? Yup. And with Kat McPhee as the doe-eyed ingenue? You know what? I think it could have. But then you had Leo, who really wanted his baby sister. And Julia, who loved scarves and infidelity. And Ellis, who would have twirled his mustache if he could grow one. And Dev, who worked for the mayor. And the wooden-yet-studly bartender. And the gay-but-not-stereotypically dancer who had the chemistry-free romance with Tom. And one of the Jonas Brothers. And the ludicrous notion that Uma Thurman could be cast as Marilyn Monroe in a musical, even if her presence was only about the ludicrous notion that Uma Thurman could be cast as Marilyn Monroe in a musical. And on and on and on. Ensemble TV is a delicate balance and "Smash" managed to hold that balance for maybe half of the pilot and half of the 13th episode, which has allowed me to toss off any screw-ups with a casual, "I'm in TECH." For the rest of its 15 episodes, "Smash" was an off-kilter, tone-deaf mess.