Allow me to emulate Roger Ebert here for one moment (no, I mean outside of his love for big breasts) and let me take a moment to talk about how I don’t watch television. I don’t have anything against it, it’s just a rare occasion when something produced for television sparks my interest; I speak in past tense because I haven’t had a working television for the past year so the whole point is moot anyway. However, reviewing DVDs for allows me to cherry-pick from many shows hitting the home market, most, if not all unheard of. Sometimes I take a gamble and just request something, anything because there is a simple joy in asking for something and then getting it for free. Hellllooooo Dirt - Season One.

Dirt drew me in from its lurid concept alone: Courtney Cox plays Lucy Spencer, editor in chief at Dirt (and eventually DirtNow) Magazine, sending her minions out to search, steal and spy on celebrities to better further her own career while simultaneously employing and taking care of her childhood friend and now photographer, the functionally Schizophrenic Don Konkey. What I was expecting was insanity on the level of the Mel Gibson-produced Paparazzi.  However, what we’ve got here is an entirely different level of sleaze, the un-fun, unclean and downright unfortunate level of sleaze. Even I felt uncomfortable watching Dirt as, within the course of 13 episodes it managed to tear down every horrible, naughty thing I’ve ever enjoyed

Is there anyone on the face of the earth that doesn’t love blowjobs? Straight, gay, bisexual, it doesn’t matter; everyone loves a good blowjob, right?

Dirt manages to ruin blowjobs.

All blowjobs.

Forever.

And you like masturbation, right? You’ll think twice after getting through Dirt, where damn near every episode features at least fifty thousand scenes where Courtney Cox masturbates. And remember, this shit ain’t on NBC, this is the F/X Network, where they can actually show Courtney Cox rummaging through her nightstand to find her nubbly-
at-the-end-with-the-vibating-balls-for-proper-clitoral-stimulation-comma-NOT-the-kind-
for-vaginal-insertion vibrator, jamming it down under the covers for a good old-fashioned jack session.

It’s like your father catching you smoking a cigarette, and in turn, forcing you to smoke the entire carton in order to turn you off of it.

But don’t worry, things are fair and balanced, because the Hollywood actors featured in the show are just as miserable, despicable and downright deserving of the stalker treatment. Why, there’s drugged-out superstar Holt McLaren and his heroin-obsessed, sitcom-starring bisexual-when-she’s-on-the-crank girlfriend Julia Mallory. Holt traded gossip on the pregnancy on a friend in order to suppress the release of Julia’s sex tape. Julia releases the tape anyway for a boost in her career and yells “rape” anyway.

Photojournalist and psychotic Don Konkey is the only nice person in the line-up, assumingly because even F/X doesn’t want to make fun of the mentally handicapped. So what if he’s having an imaginative affair with a dead woman who gives birth to a litter of kittens and accidentally gets Lucas Haas electrocuted by gangbanging Mexican stereotypes? He’s an adorable man-child with a gift of snapshottery. And hell, Lucy keeps him gainfully employed and pays the medical bills whenever Don has to resort to severing his finger in order to be admitted to the same hospital that a young Religious pop-queen is staying in after a crack-pipe exploded in her face. Perhaps I’m not shooing you away from Dirt and that makes sense, because, ultimately, I watched the shit out of Dirt - Season One. I’m not proud to admit it, but I’m not ashamed either.

Dirt: It’s not a horrible vanity project on the evils of tabloid journalism because everyone is wrong. The tabloids are wrong. The celebrities are wrong. The actors are wrong. The directors are wrong. The writers are wrong. The special guests (including the bitch-choking Wayne Brady and Paul Reubens), while absolutely hilarious in their roles are still wrong.

I am wrong for watching it.

Presentation

Extras
Do you like promo material? Sure you do! Dirt - Season One contains all the usual suspects: the fawning behind-the-scenes featurette that focuses on the big picture (Celebrity Couple Gets Dirty), the character examination that delves into the psyche of the smaller, much more interesting bit player (Through A Lens, Darkly), the gag reel, the preview of the upcoming season (which totals under two minutes, mind you) and the serious look at the effects of fame minidoc (Tabloid Wars). You’ll watch these once, and never again! The only bits and pieces that might interest you are a selection of deleted scenes, all which feature introductions from executive producer/writer/director/wearer of many hats Matthew Carnahan. Watch as big effects shots and characters are put to death for an onslaught of reasons, such as time restraints, surreal concepts and awful-looking shirts.

In addition to all the extra content, disc 4 also contains trailers for Becoming Jane, Golden Door and Eagle Vs. Shark, a film that was apparently made specifically for me to hate.

The Bottom Line
Sure, the show might have been bred out of sheer hatred for all things good and pure, but that doesn’t stop Dirt from being compulsively watchable – note that I didn’t say entertaining, I said watchable. Two completely different things.

		Dirt - Season One
3		Feature - I felt genuinely unclean after watching it.
3.5		Video - A pleasing enough transfer for a visually interesting though at times technically inconsistent show.
4		Audio - Fares slightly better than the visuals, a strong, active mix.
2		Extras - The only section of the set that feels rather lacking.

3.5