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Hung aired from June 2009 until ? on HBO.
A former high school sports legend turned middle-aged high school basketball coach finds a way to benefit from his biggest asset.
A Review from Variety
Posted: Mon., Jun. 22, 2009, 1:01pm PT
(Series; HBO, Sun. June 28, 10 p.m.)
By Brian Lowry
Filmed in Michigan by HBO. Executive producers, Noreen Halpern, John Morayniss, Michael Rosenberg, Alexander Payne, Colette Burson, Dmitry Lipkin; co-executive producer, Scott Stephens; producer, George Parra; director, Payne; writers, Lipkin, Burson;
Ray Drecker - Thomas Jane Tanya Skagle - Jane Adams Jessica Haxon - Anne Heche Damon Drecker - Charlie Saxton Darby Drecker - Sianoa Smit-McPhee Dr. Ronnie Haxon - Eddie Jemison
When the series was announced, "Hung" sounded like a one-note, made-for-pay-TV joke -- indulging director Alexander Payne and company to engage in a bit of "Boogie Nights" humor. Yet the series that emerges proves not only timely in its look at a member of Detroit's disappearing middle class but, in addition to being wryly funny, shows off an unexpected organ -- the one generally associated with love, not lust. Boasting fine performances by Thomas Jane and Jane Adams, coupled with sharp writing, "Hung" really does offer those willing to pay for it (HBO, that is) a bountiful package.
What makes the series work, ultimately, is a very shrewd choice -- namely, that far from the he-men he's played in the past (see "The Punisher" and "Deep Blue Sea"), Jane's Ray Drecker is a bit of a mess. Living in Detroit, he speaks in voiceover about the lost American dream that his parents seemed to enjoy and bitches about adjustable-rate mortgages.
Divorced from an ex-wife (Anne Heche) who has left him and married a wealthier guy, he's struggling to get by as a high-school basketball coach -- one with kidney stones and condescending neighbors -- when he experiences a freak house fire. Desperate for cash, he enrolls in a get-rich-quick seminar where he reconnects with a struggling poet (as if there's another kind), Tanya (Adams), who can't resist again sampling his ample merchandise.
Almost by accident, Tanya suggests that Ray "market your dick," and with the seminar adviser talking about finding "your winning tool," you can almost see the lightbulb materialize above his head. Ah, but where to start, and, with Tanya's help, how to develop a clientele?
Thanks to the bittersweet but consistently amusing tone (Payne directed the oversized premiere, which gives way to half-hour episodes), "Hung" bears scant resemblance to "Midnight Cowboy." Created by Colette Burson and Dmitry Lipkin ("The Riches"), it's rather a rueful look at the lengths to which one guy will go to recapture a life -- the one that seemed possible when he was a high-school jock -- that has gradually slipped away from him.
Think "Breaking Bad" meeting the tough-luck teacher of Payne's "Election" -- only here, the former's marketable product isn't cooked up in a lab.
Not all the elements work equally well, beginning with Heche as Ray's ex, who manages to be both shrewish and needy in trying to buy their kids' affection. Both she and their rebellious teens are a trifle too broad for a show that actually begins from a place of realism, its absurdist premise notwithstanding.
They represent a small part of the whole, however, and the combination of Jane and Adams proves top-notch -- each of them equally damaged, desperate and confused. Their interplay, the willingness to let the story gradually unfold and the project's disarming sensitivity (exemplified via a splendid fourth-episode guest shot by Margo Martindale) helps elevate "Hung" well above its gimmicky title -- and gives HBO another improbable series that actually looks well worth hanging onto.
camera, Uta Briesewitz; production designer, Devorah Herber; editor, Kent Tent; music, Craig Wedren; casting, Lisa Beach, Sarah Katzman. 45 MIN.
A Review from The New York Times
Television Review | 'Hung'
Gifted and Talented, in a Grown-Up Way
By ALESSANDRA STANLEY
Published: June 25, 2009
Ray Drecker — broke, divorced and depressed — is on the ropes. He is hanging by a thread. But that’s not why the story of his life is titled “Hung.”
Ray, a high school teacher and basketball coach in Detroit, has an asset, a large one, that allows him to think he can make money as a prostitute. And while it sounds like a one-joke conceit, and a sophomoric one at that, this HBO series is oddly beguiling, a downbeat screwball comedy in R-rated clothing.
And the secret to its appeal is not Ray, even though he is ably played by Thomas Jane. It’s not even the sex, because only a little is shown, and Ray’s greatest gift is left to the imagination. Alexander Payne (“Sideways”), an executive producer, directed the pilot, but “Hung” really comes alive after Mr. Jane teams up with Jane Adams, an actress with the meek looks and loopy charm of Elaine May. She is delightful in the role of Tanya Skagle, a freelance proofreader and aspiring poet.
Tanya wants to bring something positive into the world. Ray views himself as someone who, as he puts it, “tasted and came close to greatness.”
There is no myth more plaintive, and beloved by men, than the fall of the gifted athlete. Ray’s tale of woe is presented in a very male, solipsistic frame, a romanticization of failure that echoes movies and books like “Sideways” and “High Fidelity” and even John Updike’s Rabbit novels: the fond, almost fetishistic cult of the Great White Loser.
The female equivalent is quite different: heroines in books and movies more often begin as losers — wallflower, spinster, ugly ducking, bluestocking or mouseburger — and work or will their way to unlikely triumph, be it marriage to Mr. Rochester or the editorship of Cosmopolitan or a seat in the United States Senate. Ray is one of those men born with early promise who see failure as an unjust punishment of the gods; Tanya falls in with all those women who accept failure as a starting point.
When Tanya discovers that Ray is so desperate that he is trying to sell himself on the Internet as a “heterosexual male escort,” she sees an opportunity to market him to women with a more subtle pitch. She rebrands him as a “happiness consultant” and offers to be his pimp.
Theirs is a bitterly funny collusion told deadpan against a bleak backdrop of abandoned industries, empty malls and home evictions.
The first episode is slow and even off-putting: the spotlight is on Ray as he chronicles his downward spiral from golden high school jock and promising baseball player to the torn ligament, broken marriage and house fire that forced him to live in a tent and drove his teenage children to move back in with their neurotic mother, Jessica (Anne Heche), and her new husband, a wealthy dermatologist.
The pace and humor pick up when Tanya enters Ray’s life.
Their clashing sensibilities give “Hung” a sweetness that was missing in “Sideways,” a film with a similarly depressive wit, but flecked with misogyny. It was a tale of two losers told entirely from their own, self-pitying perspective; the women in it were accessories, not comic foils.
“Hung,” which was conceived by Colette Burson and her husband, Dmitry Lipkin, creator of “The Riches” on FX, is also a buddy film of sorts, but with more spark: Ray and Tanya meet in the middle of two opposing trajectories — he’s on a long slide downward from exalted heights, she has nowhere to go but up.
And Tanya is more touching, perhaps because she doesn’t feel entitled to an easier ride. She would, however, like a less demanding and depressing way to pay her rent than proofreading. (“Some bank has gone belly up,” she says, flustered, on the phone. “Look, I don’t know, I just make sure the words are spelled correctly when it does.”)
Tanya and Ray attend the same ghastly motivational workshop, “Unleash Your Inner Entrepreneur.” The instructor, Floyd (Steve Hytner), promises that they can all become millionaires overnight if they just hone their one special talent.
“The word I like to use is tool,” Floyd says. “Something that helps you get that very special task done.”
Ray, who cannot say out loud what comes to mind, drops out. Tanya gamely gives it a shot. She comes up with “lyric bread,” which consists of inserting a line of inspirational verse into baked goods. The example she gives in class is “a croissant folded round Maya Angelou’s ‘Phenomenal Woman.’ ”
Once she hits on the idea of selling Ray’s wares, it takes Tanya a while to persuade him that she has something to offer. When he accepts, morosely and ungraciously, the little skip of excitement she takes in the parking lot is almost contagious.
They are both intelligent, well-spoken people who unleash their inner stupidity. Tanya, who comes up with a logo — a smiley-face button with a knowing wink — knows a lot about female loneliness, but she is utterly naïve about business.
Ray has a natural gift, but he has a lot to learn about the nature of women.
It’s an unlikely pairing of opposites, and at times, an exhilarating partnership — a “Romancing the Stone” in the most unromantic of settings.
HBO, Sunday nights at 10, Eastern and Pacific times; 9, Central time.
Created by Dmitry Lipkin and Colette Burson; pilot directed by Alexander Payne; written by Ms. Burson and Mr. Lipkin; Ms. Burson, Mr. Lipkin, Mr. Payne, Michael Rosenberg, John Morayniss and Noreen Halpern, executive producers; Scott Stephens and Emily Kapnek, co-executive producers. Produced for HBO by Tennessee Wolf Pack and E1 Entertainment.
WITH: Thomas Jane (Ray Drecker), Jane Adams (Tanya Skagle), Anne Heche (Jessica Haxon), Eddie Jemison (Ronnie), Sianoa Smit-McPhee (Darby), Charlie Saxton (Damon) and Steve Hytner (Floyd Gerber).
A Review from USA TODAY
HBO's meandering 'Hung' fails to satisfy in so many ways
ABOUT THE SHOW
* * 1/2 our of four
HBO, Sunday, 10 ET/PT
By Robert Bianco, USA TODAY
Bigger isn't always better.
Size is both the hook and flaw in Hung, an amiable but ambling comedy that collapses under extended exposure. Thankfully, there is more to the show than just its one-dirty-joke premise: A prodigiously endowed teacher builds a business around his singular natural talent. But nothing in the extended pilot makes you think there's enough to fill a series, and nothing in the three episodes that follow does anything to alter that impression.
In case you're wondering — and you probably are — you never see the apparently oversized organ that gives the show its title, at least not in the episodes made available for preview. So far at least, the exact dimensions are left to your imagination, which is where they should remain.
The pity, for those who might get hung up on the premise, is that there are moments when Hung has the makings of both a smart social satire and a sweet romantic comedy.
It's just that its virtues have been buried under the kind of meandering plots and underpowered dialogue that mark so many TV comedies these days, which seem unable to decide whether they'd rather be unfunny comedies or insufficiently serious dramas. Indeed, the episodes tend to be so shapeless and leisurely paced, you might be watching a very long movie that just happened to get cut up into random segments.
If you stick around, it will be because of stars Thomas Jane and Jane Adams, who make one of the season's most agreeably mismatched pairs. Jane is Ray, an underpaid, over-leveraged high school basketball coach who has lost his wife to divorce and his house to fire. Adams is Tanya, a lonely, possibly deluded temp who thinks she's a poet and yearns for love and happiness.
If Hung is more often touching than salacious, it's because Jane and Adams imbue their characters with such a palpable sense of yearning and regret, you end up rooting for them. Never is that more true than in the fourth, best episode, in which Ray and Tanya realize their gigolo business could actually make a few lonely women happy — a discovery given life by a lovely comic performance from Margo Martindale.
Unfortunately, every time you're drawn into their story, the show undercuts them, often by switching to Anne Heche in the terribly written role of Ray's ex. Indeed, everything about Ray's family rings false, from a wife who exists only to be the butt of jokes to the two teenage kids who seem to have wandered in from a crueler comedy.
Ray might not believe it, but in this case, less really would have been more.
A Review from The New York Daily News
HBO's 'Hung' is more than a 'Californication' clone, with more than sex to the story
BY David Hinckley
DAILY NEWS TV CRITIC
Wednesday, June 24th 2009, 9:25 PM
Thomas Jane in 'Hung': When his best-laid plans go awry, he becomes a male hooker.
Thomas Jane in 'Hung': When his best-laid plans go awry, he becomes a male hooker.
Not entirely by accident, one suspects, does HBO mislead viewers with the provocative title of its latest quasi-comedy, "Hung."
Yes, the implication is exactly what the viewer suspects. Ray Drecker (Thomas Jane) is well-endowed, and the series takes off from that plot point.
But contrary to what viewers might also expect, this isn't "Californication II." In the free-roving world of pay-cable, where sex often seems to be the primary motivation for all human activity, the sex part here turns out to be surprisingly incidental.
That leaves "Hung" free to explore and become a lot of other things, and its first episodes show encouraging signs it intends to do just that.
Right upfront, "Hung" is about hard times, about what a few bad breaks can do to someone who tries to live the right way, do the right things, play by the rules.
That's Ray Drecker.
Once upon a time, back in school, he had it all. He was a star athlete. He married a beauty queen. They had two kids. When a knee injury ended his dreams of a pro career, he came back to his old school, West Lakefield in Detroit, to coach basketball.
He's good. But teachers make marginal money, so he found he was living with no margins, no room for anything to go wrong.
Then his beauty queen wife, Jessica (a shrewish Anne Heche), leaves him. He moves into his parents' rundown lakeside house with the two teenage kids.
The house burns. Did we mention he couldn't afford insurance? The kids go back to Mom. The only good news is the house burned in the summer, so he can pitch a tent in the backyard.
In desperation, he signs up for one of those motivational "find your inner millionaire" courses, where the instructor tells everyone they have to identify their unique selling point. Or, as he innocently puts it, their "tool."
Also in the class is a woman with whom Ray once had a casual fling, a ditsy poet named Tanya (Jane Adams). They have another one-nighter, it turns sour, and she sneers that if he wants to make money, he should market his, well, tool.
From there, they stumble awkwardly - with some first-rate acting - into setting him up as a male hooker.
It's not sexy, it's not glamorous, sometimes it doesn't work.
But that's exactly the point of "Hung" - that putting a wrecked life back together is tough. It affects every relationship that matters; it makes you do things you hate to do, and there's no map.
HBO bills "Hung" as a comedy, but it uses comedy the way it uses sex - to set up darker, more interesting and complex points. It's amazing how many of those are out there.
An Interview with Thomas Jayne
Q: What did you think when your agent first told you about Hung?
A: My wife [Medium’s Patricia Arquette] reads everything I do. And I showed her this thing I’d been doing, The Mist, which is about creatures from another dimension. And then I showed her this script called Hung, about a guy with a giant dick. And she said, “Great, more science fiction!”
Q: Why do think the show has resonated with people so much?
A: Yeah, they are a little insecure about their penises. We are born to be insecure about [our] penises. I was actually quite happy with mine until I did Hung. Now I don’t know what to think of it, maybe I’m not big enough. I was basically really happy with mine, now I’ve got all these issues and I have to go see a shrink. [laughs] It’s a unique scenario playing a man with a large penis. I didn’t know my penis was going to be famous along with me! If I had known he was going to be famous, I would have treated him better in my younger years – I wouldn’t have rubbed him on the carpet so much and gotten that horrible rug burn. I would have treated him a lot better.
Q: What do you think it says about the changing position of men in our society today?
A: There are only a few positions that you can achieve with any comfort – they’ve been around since the dawn of time – the missionary position, there’s doggy style and there’s the cowboy. They are all great. I prefer 69 – I can feel love making at molecular level.
Q: What are some of the challenges working on set with all of the sex scenes?
A: I feel very comfortable naked. I just feel comfortable when I’m nude. So I shoot in the nude, which becomes a problem during the teaching scenes – you have to add in the clothes digitally later. Those computer guys like a challenge.
Q: Do you get lots strange reactions from your fans?
A: I know now what it’s like to be a woman because I now have to say during a conversation, ‘Hey my eyes are up here!’ They don’t even know that they are doing this. They look at me like they would someone on TV – ‘No actually I can see you too, this reality thing goes both ways.’
Q: Tell us a bit about your background. How did you get your started in acting?
A: To be serious for a moment, I came out to Hollywood Boulevard when I was 18 years old, and I looked at the stars on the sidewalk, and I didn’t know anybody. I know I wanted to be an actor. I knew I could be good at it. I didn’t have a place to live, so slept on park benches, in welfare hotels, lawn mower sheds, and I got little parts in commercials because my buddy’s dad directed commercials. I got my SAG [Screen Actor’s Guild] card when I was 24, I think. I worked my way up the ladder every step of the rung.
Q: You’ve directed a movie called The Dark Country. Tell us about it.
A: [stops to light a cigar] Smoking costs more than I would have spent in a week on food when I was a struggling actor. I love every puff of it. Dark Country is in 3-D. It comes out on video October 6. I’m really f---ing excited about it. It’s unfortunately not in 3D. Technology hasn’t kept up with us. But in a few years, you are going to be able to watch 3D movies on your Blu-Ray player. All your TVs are going to have a 3D button, and you are going be able to slip in a regular old Blu-Ray disc into a regular old Blu-Ray player and watch a movie in 3D. And mine is one of the first – if not the first – purely digital live-action movies ever made. It’s a Hitchcock/David Lynch style thriller. It’s got film noir elements. It’s for people who were abused and twisted. It’s for the darker side of society. It’s a trip – it’s better if you are on medication.
An Article about Hung
HBO’s Hung: Exploring social desperation, among other things
By James Brewer
17 July 2010
Created by Dmitry Lipkin and Colette Burson
HungJane Adams, Thomas Jane and Rebecca Creskoff in HBO's Hung
In the HBO series Hung, Ray Drecker (Thomas Jane) used to be a star athlete at (fictional) West Lakeview High School in the Detroit suburbs. He married cheerleader Jessica (Anne Heche), and they had twins, Damon (Charlie Saxton) and Darby (Sianoa Smit-McPhee), who are now in high school themselves.
After Ray’s hopes for a successful career in professional sports were dashed, he became the basketball coach at his high school alma mater and then, after 20 years of marriage, Jessica left him. Self-centered and feeling cheated out of life’s better things, she married her dermatologist, Ronnie Haxton (Eddie Jemison), thinking he could provide her with a better life. To make matters worse, Ray’s house is gutted by a fire, resulting in the loss of custody of his children. He is forced to live in a tent on his lot, while he rebuilds his house.
“I used to have a family. Used to have a life. Used to have kids and a job. Now, well, now I have my d---. A d--- and a dream. If that’s not the American way, what is?” Such is the premise of the series, now in its second season.
Producer Dmitry Lipkin has a certain reputation for adopting the viewpoint of the outsider. His previous series on cable channel FX, The Riches, starring Eddie Izzard and Minnie Driver, focused on a family that used every confidence scheme in the book to flimflam their way into a wealthy lifestyle otherwise unavailable to them, including taking over the identities of dead people.
Lipkin seems to have insight into and sensitivity about class relations in America and brings that to his work.
Hung is an exploration, through the distorted lens of television, of how far people will go when driven by circumstances to take desperate measures.
The production and marketing of a series such as Hung is a complex business, requiring a combination of ingredients, including humor, an element of impiety, as well as some social insight and a considerable degree of talent. It is no secret that television is a ruthlessly competitive enterprise driven by and with large fortunes at stake.
Hung plays heavily, and valuably, on its viewers’ sense of the uncertainty and instability of life in this era. It can’t be accidental that the industrially, socially devastated city of Detroit is the backdrop for the story. Lipkin’s characters struggle along in the suburbs, largely unconscious of the bigger picture, most of them shallow and self-centered. To what extent the program is criticizing their self-involvement remains somewhat ambiguous.
Tanya (played by the talented Jane Adams), perhaps the most interesting character, is no exception. She works for a publisher, but considers herself a poet, even though she hasn’t written anything since adolescence. Through a sexual encounter with Ray, she recognizes the opportunity his “attribute” provides to make them both a lot of money. She proposes to become his pimp, a role she is totally unsuited for. Ray just wants to get the money to rebuild his house so he can get his kids back. He accepts her offer.
Lipkin told E! News, “Tanya really thinks they’re doing something new and groundbreaking. They’re bringing happiness into the world. Maybe it’s misguided, maybe it’s not, but we embrace that idea. She’s not seeing it just as a moneymaking venture. She’s seeing it as a way to change her life and change other people’s lives.”
Embrace the idea, indeed. Lipkin and the creators seem to know what they are doing. Whether they believe that someone in Ray’s circumstances would resort to prostitution or not, this is the show’s premise. Stranger things have happened. In any event, it provides a fantastical framework for humorous situations.
One feels that everything is unraveling from episode to episode. Not only is Ray’s identity constantly on the verge of being exposed, his integrity increasingly gets him into trouble. This provides much of the dynamic for the series.
The second season finds Ray in even worse circumstances. His illusion that the school sports program would never be cut is shattered when he finds that his job will only be there through spring. Next year he can reapply, but in any event he’ll have no benefits.
Ray’s unhappy children are perhaps the moral center of the show. Damon is experimenting with a homosexual relationship, which clearly has an upsetting effect on his father. Darby rejects her mother’s “living through men,” and joins a “fat and proud” organization. While gaining custody of and providing for the twins are what drives Ray into selling himself in exchange for the money to rebuild his house, one senses they would be outraged if they knew how he was amassing the resources.
While Tanya’s fragile ego and poetic sensitivities often get in the way of her pimping, the tough-minded Lenore (Rebecca Creskoff), who wants a piece of the action, is more suited to the job. Tanya calls her service “happiness consultation.” Lenore has a more realistic view. She already has a clientele for her fashion business that will happily pay $1200 for a pair of designer shoes rather than $79 for the identical “junk.” Lenore recognizes the value of Ray’s “product” and has designs to steal him from Tanya. The latter meanwhile consults with a real pimp for tips as to how to manage her talent.
In a comical scene in front of the famed Diego Rivera murals at the Detroit Institute of Arts, (DIA) Lenore attempts to give a pep talk to Ray and Tanya: “You can learn a lot from Diego Rivera. Notice the workers. Clearly their jobs are depressing. They work too many hours for too little pay, and they have to wear very unattractive overalls.”
Tanya interrupts, “Actually, Lenore, the workers are meant to be the heroes of this mural.”
Lenore responds, “Here’s the thing. Horny clients with disposable income are like fruit. I can only pick them when they’re ripe.”
Lipkin describes the series as “both absurd and hopefully compelling and meaningful.” There is something to his conception, but to this point the show lacks the necessarily sharp edge. While the conditions in Detroit obviously provide material for meaningful drama and even comedy, despite the best efforts of Thomas Jane, Jane Adams and a splendid cast, Hung is too cartoonish so far to be taken really seriously. Or at least as seriously as is needed.
Well-known Detroit-area locations show up as settings in the series, such as the DIA, the Redford Theater, which still plays classic movies, Hamtramck and 8 Mile Road, but their use seems a bit contrived. That seems in line with a general lack of a fully organic connection between the series and American life.
Its premise is an intriguing and provocative one, and Hung strives for humor, while it exposes a real social situation. It hits at things here and there, sometimes quite knowingly, but the show needs to go further and look at things more sharply.
An Article from NY Magazine
On HBO's Hung, which starts its second season on Sunday, Jane Adams plays Tanya, a mousy pimp who has lost control over her lone prostitute, Ray (played by Thomas Jane). Tanya's like that annoying mosquito you just can't kill — she's needy, nerdy, and socially awkward. And yet her scenes are the highlights of the entertaining half-hour comedy, both for their painful funniness, and, often, their emotional depth. We spoke to Adams about playing such an irritating lady, what initially drew her to a show about a dude with a big penis, and where she'd like Tanya's life to go.
When you first got the script, were you worried about starring in a penis show?
It’s so surprisingly not about that, considering the title. I was visiting my parents up in Washington state, and I got the script and I looked at the title, Hung, and I was like, Uh, God. Really? But then I saw that Alexander Payne was directing the pilot, and I thought, Maybe this will be okay. And I read it with my mother, actually; she helped me learn the lines. And my mom liked it! And that was my first clue, like, Oh, okay, it’s not just a penis show. There are metaphors operating here that my mother was liking.
Metaphors like ...
The more we shoot, the more it is to me, almost startlingly, about business. And about interpersonal relationships and how to work with people, in general, whether it’s a friendship or marriage or a business partnership.
Tanya is not a very effective pimp. But at least she's funny.
Oh, good, I’m so relieved to hear that! 'Cause I never know, I never know. I just hope — you shoot the stuff and cross your fingers. People respond to things that I didn’t even think of or see. I don’t know what it is until I’m getting feedback.
Do you like Tanya? I sometimes can't stand to watch her, to tell the truth.
I feel like there’s a fine line that we’re walking — there’s awkward and there’s pathetic. Awkward interests me, and if the needle goes too far into the pathetic zone, I want to pull it back. That’s a discussion we have a lot. What’s interesting to me is when she’s effective, against all odds, in her own awkwardness. There are lots of very effective people who are like that. That’s what’s funny to me.
Sometimes she's with it, and sometimes it seems like she's insane.
There are things that happen this season when I said to [co-creator] Collette [Burson], "Does Tanya’s alarm go off ever? Does she realize she’s dreaming?" That schizophrenic quality is a challenge. It’s not my show, that’s what’s interesting to me as an actress. I’ll throw out my ideas, but they’re balancing a lot of different characters.
Were you worried about how the show would be received, given its racy topic?
No, I was pretty confident that people would like the show. I just looked at Thomas and was like, "Who’s not going to want to watch that? Just light him well and put him on Sunday nights." And it's really dealing with women’s feelings. Like, I love that scene last year, when Ray goes to the client played by Margo Martindale, and she tells him he can go, but he decides to stay [even though he's not attracted to her]. It’s unconventional; it's not a sex scene about two hot people.
People always seem to harp on Ray's kids, played by Charlie Saxton and Sianoa Smit-McPhee, who aren't as conventionally good-looking as their parents.
I can’t tell you how many people get upset about them! That they’re overweight and unattractive and not as pretty as their parents. But, it’s like, that happens!
An Article from The Hollywood Reporter
HBO’s Hung star, Thomas Jane, just admitted that he experimented with gay sex as a struggling teen in Los Angeles. And hopes that gay men will understand his reasoning for a comment in which he said that the HBO show would be over if his character had a penis in his mouth.
“You're a lot more open to experimentation as a young man,” he tells the L.A. Times. “And for me, being a young artist and broke in Los Angeles, I was exploring my sexual identity. And probably because of my middle-class, white blue-collar upbringing, I would have never had the opportunity to confront some of my own fears and prejudices had I not been hungry enough to be forced to challenge myself in that way.”
His confession followed after the newspaper gave the actor a chance to clear up some comments he made last year that angered the gay media.
“I think they took my comment that it would be the last year of the show when I ended up with a [penis] in my mouth, think they took that comment to be anti-gay,” he explains. “And then I got a chance to explain myself a little further, and I think people respected the explanation that I gave.”
Basically, Jane says that it would take a lot for his male hustler character, Ray, on the HBO show to resort to having gay sex for money. And if it happened, then it would mean that the character had reached the end of his development arc.
“Ray's definition of sex is very narrow, and that makes for good television,” he says. “If we had a character that was very accepting and free and open to trying new things, we'd be [having sex with] an elephant in a circus by Season 3. We get much more mileage out of taking a guy who's very repressed but doesn't even know that he's repressed.”
In the end, Jane says that gay sex wasn’t for him. And here’s where he may get himself in trouble with the gays once again. He says that sexuality is a choice to a point, but adds a qualification to the statement.
“But I'll tell you what,” he adds. “It's not a choice until you're open enough to experience both male and female sexuality. Until you've tasted the food, you don't know whether you'll like it or not, as my mom always said.”
To watch some clips from Hung go to http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=hung+episodes
For a Page dedicated to Hung go to http://timstvshowcase.com/hung.html
For The Official Website of Thomas Jane go to http://www.thomasjane.com/
For The Official Website of Anne Heche go to http://www.anneheche.com/
For a Website dedicated to Anne Heche go to http://members.tripod.com/heche_anne/
To listen to the theme song of Hung go to http://www.televisiontunes.com/Hung.html and to listen to the full theme song go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZJLi0f0ZIA
ï¿½ Date: Thu September 3, 2009 ï¿½ Filesize: 36.3kb ï¿½ Dimensions: 400 x 334 ï¿½
Keywords: Thomas Jane