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Starved aired from August until September 2005 on FX.
Short-lived and rather dark comedy about four members of a New York City eating-disorders group. Sam ( Eric Schaeffer) was a sexually frustrated Wall Street broker who ate chocolate cakes out of the trash; Billie ( Laura Benanti), an anorexic and bisexual would be songwriter; Adam ( Sterling K. Brown), a bulimic NYPD cop who shook down delivery guys for food; and Dan ( Del Pentecost), an overweight writer. There was a good deal of sex talk, as well as food obsessions. Their chant was "Its not OK!"
An Article from the LA Times
'Starved' for substance
FX's comedy about eating disorders may aim to be unpleasant -- but that doesn't make it any better to watch.
August 03, 2005|Robert Lloyd | Times Staff Writer
"Starved," which premieres Thursday night, is a troublesome new situation black-comedy from FX, Fox's edgier-because-it-can-be basic-cable offspring. The network has lately had some success with original drama in the form of "Nip/Tuck," "Rescue Me" and "The Shield," series rich in aggressive dysfunctional maleness -- a quality that pertains here, as well, although ostensibly played for laughs.
"The Other Side of Comedy" is the tagline being used to promote the shows making up its first-ever "comedy block"; in the case of "Starved," this apparently refers to the side that isn't funny. Fox famously likes to push the envelope, but sometimes all that gets you is a lumpy envelope.
What makes "Starved" particularly vexing is that it's at once assured and shallow, accomplished and unconvincing, well-acted and empty. The series suffers from an especially unappealing lead character, played by an actor -- Eric Schaeffer -- who also happens to be its creator, writer and director, and from a wobbly tone that garnishes its central sourness with lashings of sentimentality.
The fact that its unpleasantness is largely intentional -- that it may indeed be the point -- does not make it any nicer to watch. Notwithstanding its unusual milieu -- its four main characters are in various stages of recovery, or lack of recovery, from eating disorders, and belong to a kind of rogue self-help group, "a community of accountability and shame" that runs on humiliating its members -- it is at bottom a retread of "Seinfeld," whose three-man, one-woman cast, New York setting and obsessive-compulsiveness it replicates.
It takes itself more seriously than did "Seinfeld," though, which is ultimately not such a good thing.
Schaeffer, whose total control of this project offers an object lesson in the wisdom of a system of checks and balances, plays Sam, a "recovering anorexic" and compulsive overeater; equal parts self-love and self-loathing, he is a commodities dealer, which allows him to live convincingly in a place that has a shower the size of some New York apartments.
The very large Del Pentecost is Dan, a novelist and compulsive overeater, forever rescheduling his gastric bypass surgery; buff Sterling K. Brown is Adam, a bulimic police officer who extorts Chinese food from a deliveryman and then throws it up (on a homeless man); Billie (the especially excellent Laura Benanti) is a recovering anorexic-bulimic singer-songwriter whose much bruited bisexuality may be partially convenient ("My fans like me better gay," she says) and, in line with male thinking, less fulfilling than she claims. Colonics are also mined for humor.
We are to understand that these characters are not really hungry for food but hungry for love -- we know this because Schaeffer runs a power ballad over scenes of his principals in lonely isolation. "In my sex, I like to include an iota of feeling," Sam tells Billie, though there's no indication, in the scenes where he's having it, that this is so. Self-involved cruelty seems instead to be his style. At times we could be in a Neil LaBute play.
Woody Allen is also a touchstone. Schaeffer is the auteur of several big-screen (and straight-to-video) Age of Irony romantic comedies, including "If Lucy Fell," which have earned him a cult following somewhat at odds with his critical reputation; as an actor-director-writer, he has some of Allen's faults -- a tendency to cast himself as hot stuff prime among them -- without his philosophical thoughtfulness or gift for humor. Schaeffer has had some personal experience with addictive behavior, it says in the promotional materials, in case anyone would care to question his authority. (He describes the series as "more than semi-autobiographical.")
But just because you've had an experience doesn't mean you have anything interesting to say about it or are able to articulate whatever interesting thing you have to say. "Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night, screaming in terror, realizing that you are
At the end of the third episode, in a moment that comes screaming out of left field, Sam suddenly busts out all sensitive, giving Dan a you-are-not-your-sickness speech and telling him, "Just hang in there, you're doing great, I love you." I would call it a false note except that nothing else that precedes it rings especially true.
An Article from USA TODAY
FX puts comedy back on table
By Ann Oldenburg, USA TODAY
FX carved a name for itself with edgy dramas. Now it's ready to push the comedic envelope.
The network, known for such attention-grabbing series as Nip/Tuck and Over There, is launching an hour-long sitcom block with two series Thursday: Starved (10 ET/PT) and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (10:30 ET/PT). They're FX's first attempts at comedy since the short-lived John Corbett sitcom, Lucky, in 2003.
Both new shows are distinctive in their adult tone and concepts; neither, their creators say, would ever air on network television.
Of the two, Starved has attracted most of the attention, thanks to its premise: Four people meet at an eating disorder support group and become friends. The humor is satirical, and sometimes sickening, showing the struggles people have with food.
Among the scenes in the first of seven episodes: A bulimic policeman stops a Chinese food deliveryman to take his food, binges on it and then unwittingly throws up on a homeless person.
"Hopefully, what comes through is that it's certainly about much more than eating disorders," says creator Eric Schaeffer, who also plays Sam. "It's about four people battling the challenges of humanity — the excitement, the successes, the pathos, the struggles with finding love and spirituality and careers that work."
Schaeffer, who is in recovery for drug and alcohol abuse, wanted to "write something about addiction, which is near and dear to my heart."
The National Eating Disorders Association sees Starved differently and says the program could be dangerous to those with such disorders. The group seeks a boycott by advertisers and viewers. "This appalling and reprehensible program is starved for any empathy toward those affected by the illness," says Lynn Grefeth, the group's CEO.
Schaeffer says he's not sending up eating disorders. Stories come from his own experiences and those of people he knows, he says, while acknowledging that a fictional shame-based recovery group is satirical. "At the core of my show is a human and compassionate spirit," he says.
Others in the cast have issues with food, too. Laura Benanti, who plays Billie, battled anorexia for three years, she says. Working on Broadway with dancers before Starved, she began to try to be as thin as they were.
"I'd eat half an apple and a quarter of a cup of plain yogurt with six almonds. I would take a sandwich and eat a quarter of it. And that was a bad day." Everywhere she went, people told her she looked great, she says. "We're a nation that's completely obsessed with food."
Del Pentecost, who plays Dan, also knows about obsessions with food. The former high school football player weighs 310 pounds and says he often gets the "young John Goodman roles."
He was concerned about the show poking fun at obesity. "You want to work and feed your family, but at some point do I really want to just be the fat man?" After reading the scripts he says he realized his character is complex, "as opposed to the being the guy who's funny and fat."
Pentecost used his own real-life experiences at times to help Schaeffer write scenes, such as going to the post office to weigh himself because his own scale stopped at 290.
Sterling K. Brown, who plays the bulimic cop Adam, is a little worried what his mother might think of the show. But he says you don't often "get a chance to play someone who's so brazen and flippant with their disregard for other human beings."
He didn't really enjoy throwing up on someone. "I was talking to the guy I had to vomit on and I said, 'Hey bro, I'm really sorry about this. I'll try to hit you on your shoulder.' And Eric is like, 'No, no, no, it's got to land on his face.' "
Schaeffer acknowledges that "there is some difficult stuff to watch. But I know my spirit and intention are good."
He adds, "Humor is subjective."
A Review from The New York Times
The TV Watch
Looking for the Humor in Americans' Struggle to Become Smaller
By ALESSANDRA STANLEY
Published: August 4, 2005
There is nothing not funny about eating disorders.
The diet industry rakes in $45 billion a year and one of every three American adults is obese: fat, food and dieting form the new frontier of American folly. We are a nation of problem eaters, and for television to ban comic scrutiny of the malady would be as unrealistic as medieval poets avoiding allusions to the plague.
The trouble with "Starved," a comedy on FX about anorexia and bulimia that begins tonight, is that it's not quite funny enough. The premise is certainly bold: four friends in Brooklyn help one another through doughnut crises and other 21st-century woes. Three of them are men, piercing the myth that only women have eating disorders. Adam (Sterling K. Brown) is a buff, black New York City cop who suffers from bulimia. He trumps up traffic violations against Chinese food delivery men and bullies them into paying him off with moo-shu pork.
"Starved" was created and written by Eric Schaeffer, a writer and actor who drew on his own experiences with eating disorders and addiction to play the lead character, Sam, a weight-obsessed commodities broker who sprinkles detergent on chocolate snack cakes as a deterrent, then devours them anyway straight from the trash. Sam is supposed to be the pivot of the show, and he flounders. His uncontrolled appetite may command sympathy, but his boorish sexual mores are harder to accept. Sam claims to yearn for true love, but he mistreats and debases any woman who responds to him.
FX is not by any means the first network to obsess on the national obsession with obesity and eating. Reality TV dieting is a growth industry, be it shows like NBC's "Biggest Loser," VH1's "Celebrity Fit Club" or Showtime's "Fat Actress," a mock documentary starring Kirstie Alley, who is also the spokeswoman for Jenny Craig. Television, which brackets diet shows with fast food ads, also has reality shows for yo-yo viewers: on Saturday, Oxygen will show "Mo'Nique's Fat Chance," a beauty pageant for plus-size women, with the title host also the spokesmodel for "Just My Size." Pretaped material includes a coach who uses drill sergeant techniques to instill self-esteem. "You're fat and WHAT?" he shouts. "Fat and FABULOUS," they chant in unison.
Tough love is the preferred therapy on "Starved." Sam and his friends belong to "Belt Tighteners," a parody of Weight Watchers: when one of the members confesses a recent lapse, the group chants in unison, "That's not O.K.!"
The four have breakfast almost every day at a nearby coffee shop and bicker about food and sex. Sam has a crush on his friend Billie (Laura Benanti), a bisexual aspiring singer recovering from anorexia and bulimia. But neither she nor the other friends are capable of having a healthy relationship. Adam, the cop, pretends he has a girlfriend but actually eats candlelit steak dinners alone. Dan (Del Pentecost), an obese writer in the group, prefers watching the Dallas Cowboys to making love to his wife.
All four actors have said in interviews that they have personal experience with eating disorders, and the series does provide some insights. There are even a few flashes of clever dialogue and satire. But gallows humor about serious maladies works best when the jokes are unsettlingly smart. "Starved" relies too heavily on sight gags and gross-out farce: Sam's colonics session goes disgustingly awry; Adam makes himself vomit on what he thinks is a pile of garbage but turns out to be a homeless man sleeping under a blanket of trash.
FX, which is home to "Nip/Tuck," "The Shield" and, most recently, "Over There," prides itself on cutting-edge programming, but the network is more sure-footed with drama. FX's other new comedy - back to back with "Starved" - is "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," a series about four former high school friends who run an Irish pub - again, three guys and a girl. "Always" seeks to tweak political correctness, but it too falls flat much of the time. The writing is not witty enough to carry the material, which is not even very original.
In the first episode, a young black man enters the bar at closing time, and the three guys automatically assume he is there to rob or harass them. He turns out to be an acting class friend of Sweet Dee (Kaitlin Olson). They think he is tough and cool and hire him to bring in new customers; he does, only they are gay men who quickly turn Paddy's Irish Pub into the hot new gay club. Clownish homophobia is hardly a daring new take in comedy - gay jokes weigh down the new movie "Wedding Crashers" as well.
Both "Starved" and "Always," are intent on breaking out of the network sitcom mold, yet end up falling into the conventions of nontraditional television comedy - be it stand-up routines on Comedy Central, or skits on "Mad TV" and "Saturday Night Live" or "Curb Your Enthusiasm." The heroes of sitcoms are dorky and lovable, so the protagonists of "Starved" and "Always" are dorky and loathsome. Network sitcom scripts are supposed to be politically correct about blacks, gays and women; the cable shows go in unison against the grain.
Sam on "Starved" is a fairly successful bachelor who treats women horribly. The guys on "Always" are losers who can't get dates. In the second episode, Mac (Rob McElhenney) pretends to be an ardent anti-abortion campaigner to seduce a sexy zealot who pickets family planning offices. When she tells Mac she is pregnant, he instantly recommends an abortion. (Turns out she was just testing him.)
Even those scenarios could be funny in the hands of Larry David or Dave Chappelle, but Mr. McElhenney and the rest of the cast are not yet in that league. In an age of limitless cable, irreverence toward sensitive issues is not uncommon. Funny is much harder to find.
A Review from Entertainment Weekly
B By Gillian Flynn
You'd expect FX, the network behind great button-pushers like Rescue Me and Nip/Tuck, to throw some brilliant firebombs with its new sitcoms. The plan only kinda worked.
Take Starved, which drops provocative lines the way a preening teenage girl might if forced to attend her parents' dinner party: scandalous in a pre-fab, easily dismissable way. Let's gasp, then pass the vichyssoise.
That's not to say Starved isn't occasionally amusing; it's just not as daring as it wants to be. It's Seinfeld lite, overstuffed with wild situations, minus the slyness.
Written, directed, and starring the sometimes charming, sometimes annoying Eric Schaeffer (My Life's in Turnaround), focuses on a Seinfeldian foursome of intellectual, neurotic New Yorkers in an eating-disorder support group: egotistic, anorexic commodities trader Sam (Schaeffer); bulimic/anorexic, bisexual singer Billie (Laura Benanti); bulimic cop Adam (Sterling K. Brown); and overeating novelist Dan (Del Pentecost).
Starved drops tiny, perfect details to paint out its characters' obsessions. Adam arranges his Pop-Tarts in rows like a delicious game of Concentration; Sam weighs himself after peeing to see if he's any lighter. The supporting cast is extremely affable, particularly Tony nominee Benanti, who gives her lines surprising little backspins. (She sells an entire scene with her delivery of the single word ''no.'') But Starved's showy premise is also its downfall. We can laugh guiltlessly at Jerry (or Ross, Will, or Grace) because he's nice-looking and successful. But having a chuckle at a man making himself vomit on the side of the street feels a bit off.
The seesaw writing doesn't help: In a single episode, you can see Sam slapstickily spraying water out of his ass after an ill-fated colonic and Billie pensively hitting the bottle after an ego-wrecking evening with her parents. In the wake of the sad hilarity of The Office, more series are attempting this jagged combination, proudly refusing to telegraph to the audience how we should feel (Lisa Kudrow's The Comeback being one prime, unfunny example). But to pull that off, a series has to be pretty much tonally perfect and Starved ain't. Schaeffer may be incapable of such fine-tuning he's too busy trying to offend.
An Article from Medpage Today
FX Network's "Starved" Cooks Up Medical Controversy
By Neil Osterweil, Senior Associate Editor, MedPage Today
Published: August 04, 2005
NEW YORK, Aug. 4-The FX network's new comedy series Starved attempts to do for eating disorders what M*A*S*H* did for the Korean War: mine humor out of a deadly subject. Action Points
But authorities in eating disorders -- some who have seen the pilot episode -- are worried that the program will make light of serious conditions such as anorexia nervosa, bulimia, and binge eating.
"I can't imagine doing this same thing with leukemia or any other serious, potentially life-threatening illness," said Lynn Grefe, CEO of the National Eating Disorders Association, in an interview.
"We know of the millions of people affected in this country by eating disorders. Families are losing their homes and depleting their life savings and their retirement accounts to pay for treatment because insurance rarely pays for treatment as it's necessary. So I don't see anything funny about this."
Grefe, whose organization has called for a boycott of Starved, says that portraying people with anorexia and bulimia comically trivializes the diseases and makes serious disorders sound like lifestyle choices.
According to the NEDA, nearly 10 million American women suffer from anorexia or bulimia as do one million men, and another 25 million people suffer from some type of binge eating disorder.
"The essential features of anorexia nervosa are that the individual refuses to maintain a minimally normal body weight, is intensely afraid of gaining weight, and exhibits a significant disturbance in the perception of the shape or size of his or her body," according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 4th edition, Text Revision (DSM-IV-TR).
Bulimia nervosa is characterized by binge eating and "inappropriate compensatory methods to prevent weight gain," such as self-induced vomiting, or purging. "In addition, the self-evaluation of individuals with bulimia nervosa is excessively influenced by body shape and weight," according to the DSM-IV-TR criteria. "To qualify for the diagnosis, the binge eating and the inappropriate compensatory behaviors must occur, on average, at least twice a week for three months."
When it comes to eating disorders, images in both the news and entertainment media can have a significant effect.
"There was a study on Fiji; before TV it was actually valued to be somewhat overweight or obese, and after they got TV, a couple of years later people started to develop eating disorders," said Thomas Weigel, M.D., a clinical instructor in psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, who also treats patients at the Klarman Center for Eating Disorders at McLean Hospital in Belmont, Mass.
The NEDA states that four of five 10-year-old children say they are afraid of being fat, 20% of girls have disordered eating, and more than 33% of "normal dieters" will progress to pathological dieting, which may include anorexia, bulimia, or related conditions. Among patients diagnosed with long-term anorexia, 20% will ultimately die from the direct consequences of the disorder.
The National Institutes of Health estimates that the mortality rate among people with anorexia is 0.56% per year, or approximately 5.6% per decade, or about 12 times higher than the annual death rate due to all causes of death among females ages 15 to 24 in the general population.
The interplay between the social, physiologic, and genetic aspects of eating disorders is similar to that seen in people with alcohol or drug dependency, said Craig Johnson, Ph.D., a psychologist at the Laureate Psychiatric Clinic and Hospital in Tulsa, Okla.
"The prevalence of anorexia nervosa and bulimia is about 4%, so the compelling question is, in a culture like ours, where there's such overwhelming exposure to these body image ideals that really don't mirror people's more normal size and shape, why do only four out of 100 kids wind up with anorexia nervosa and bulimia. Why wouldn't the prevalence rate be higher than that?"
As with alcoholics or drug addicts, there is a subgroup of people who, when they experiment with a particular form of behavior that can alter neurochemistry -- such as diet and exercise -- have a latent genetically mediated vulnerability that can trigger pathologies that would otherwise have remained dormant, Dr. Johnson said.
For example, a person who is genetically predisposed to alcoholism may not become alcohol-dependent if he or she never takes a drink, he said.
For Walter H. Kaye, M.D., a professor of psychiatry at the University of Pittsburgh's Western Psychiatric Institute, the issue hinges on how eating disorders and the people who suffer from them are depicted in the media.
"I guess the question is how much does this program glamorize these very serious disorders, make them appear to be appealing disorders where in fact they're not at all," said Dr. Kaye in an interview. "People with eating disorders are desperate and unhappy and often not functioning very well, and there's nothing glamorous about it."
The flip side of programs such as Starved, however, is that they bring to the public attention serious medical conditions that might otherwise be overlooked, says Dr. Weigel.
"With the recent Terry Schiavo case, we got a lot of good press about eating disorders," he says, "in that people started to pay attention to the idea that someone with an eating disorder could die from it, that it was an important illness, and I think something like that actually helped awareness of eating disorders."
A Review from the Washington Post
FX's 'Starved' Is a Bit Too Much To Stomach
By Ann Gerhart
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, August 4, 2005
When I was living in Philadelphia, I went to a party once and spent nearly an hour talking to this funny guy before I asked him what he did for a living. That's how Philly is -- you work to live, you don't live to work -- so it takes a while to get around to that question.
"I'm the executive chef," he said, "at the Renfrew Center." I immediately burst out laughing and couldn't stop. The Renfrew Center is a nationally renowned clinic for bulimics and anorexics. I apologized, but he said he got that reaction all the time. He laughed, too.
"It's really hard," he said. "They send the plates back licked clean like they really like my cooking, but you know they're throwing it all up later."
Remembering this moment, I had high hopes for two FX sitcoms debuting tonight. "Starved," at 10, plays like the writers got together and said, "Hey, what happens if you take 'Seinfeld' and give them eating disorders?" It's followed at 10:30 by "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," which plays like other writers said, "Hey, what happens if you take 'Friends' but they're not Manhattan neurotics, they're just Philly slackers who run this dive Irish bar?"
Ambitious and accomplished but ultimately unpleasant, "Starved" centers on Sam, a commodities trader and compulsive overeater, acted by Eric Schaeffer (not the one from Signature Theatre), who is also creator, writer and director. His sidekicks are Dan (Del Pentecost), a novelist who gorges and keeps rescheduling his gastric bypass surgery; Adam (Sterling K. Brown), a bulimic but totally buff black cop, and Billie (Laura Benanti), a bisexual, laxative-abusing singer-songwriter. They go to group together, where they recount each week's transgressions to chants of "It's not okay!" from the other sufferers, egged on by a facilitator who believes in shame and humiliation.
There are a few inventive laughs. Dan is addicted to Nemo chocolate cake, which he guiltily buys, eyes and douses with Ajax as a type of aversion therapy. When his building maintenance man catches him ransacking the trash for a treated piece he has thrown out, the janitor asks, "Aren't you afraid you're gonna eat some of that detergent?" Sam, his face covered with chocolate, answers, "Never happens. The icing acts as an impenetrable barrier."
On patrol, Adam pulls over a Chinese deliveryman on a phony bicycle infraction, then agrees to let him off with a warning if he turns over the moo shu pork. After gobbling it down, Adam forces his nightstick into his throat to purge. Fine. But Schaeffer is too eager to go vulgar, so we have to see Adam's projectile vomit splatter all over a homeless man.
The language and sexual situations are exceptionally coarse, even for envelope-pushing FX, and the TV-MA rating warning of possible unsuitability for children under 17 is well-earned. At the diner where they congregate, the boys all decide to see if their manhoods weigh more or less than the carrot Billie intends to weigh on her portable food scale.
And the commentary that goes along with a joint colonic irrigation scene in a later episode is outrageous for cable television, even later at night. Parents, if you wouldn't want your kids to hear the Rev. Willie Wilson's uncensored descriptions of homosexual sex from the pulpit at Union Temple Baptist, you certainly aren't going to want to hear Dan on the same subject.
The far bigger problem is that "Starved" is so busy contriving situations that Schaeffer has paid no attention to character development. Eating disorders overwhelmingly afflict females, so why are three of the characters male? And what are the underlying emotional issues that make them that way? There's a whiff of intimacy avoidance for Dan, a hint of repressed homosexuality with Adam, a tinge of, oh, maybe narcissism with Sam, but this failure to build understanding into the show dooms it to emptiness, with a sour aftertaste. As if you had just, you know, hurled.
By contrast, "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" (TV-MA) approaches an emotional truth: In the real world, unlike in Laguna Beach and Ocean County, blue-collar kids in aging cities really do graduate from Catholic high school and eventually buy a corner bar.
That's the simple premise. Mac (Rob McElhenney), Charlie (Charlie Day) and Dennis (Glenn Howerton) own and run Paddy's. Dennis's sister Dee (Kaitlin Olson) tends bar with them and majors in theater at Temple University. Dee is the moral center, except when she's not.
They're hitting their late twenties still in arrested adolescence, spectacularly unsuccessful. Their steps toward self-awareness come in hilarious fits and starts. In the first episode, "The Gang Gets Racist," the guys pounce on the young black man who wanders in alone late at night, even though Dee has just told them one of her theater friends is about to show up.
"Guess you don't get many brothers in here," Dee's friend says sardonically, and the men bumble around apologizing. What's charming about the crew is that they realize what jerks they are just in time, and when they try to make amends, they become even bigger jerks. In this case, they decide to raise their consciousness by visiting nearby Temple to acquire black friends, which backfires in an unpredictable way.
In next week's "Charlie Wants an Abortion," the show acidly lampoons the rigidity in the cultural wars by having Mac join a pro-life rally just to hit on chicks. While one passionate beauty leans over a police sawhorse to shout her slogans, Mac eyes her backside, then pulls out a piece of paper. "This is a list of doctors I'm gonna kill," Mac proclaims. "There's already two crossed out," she says, looking a little tentative.
Next scene, they're making out in his car.
McElhenney, a young broke actor and Philadelphia native, made the pilot with his pals Howerton and Day on a hand-held for less than $200, and the show retains this intimate, ensemble feel, without grandstanding or fussiness or mugginess. It keeps the four feeling like good company for a half-hour.
Starved and It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia (30 minutes each) air Thursdays at 10 and 10:30 p.m. on FX.
To watch clips of Starved go to https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=starved+fx
For more on Starved go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Starved
For a review of Starved go to https://web.archive.org/web/20060206185955/https://www.popmatters.com/tv/reviews/s/starved-050818.shtml
� Date: Mon August 22, 2005 � Filesize: 26.4kb � Dimensions: 474 x 323 �
Keywords: Starved: Cast Photo