Baldwin

America has many showbiz families; everything from the Jackson family and the Copollas to, erm, the Arquettes, and somewhere in the purgatory of the respectability rankings are the Baldwins. At the forefront of this great family is the oldest acting brother, Alec. He’s had his highs (The Hunt for Red October, Glengarry Glen Ross) and lows (Thomas and the Magic Railroad). But he’s always been interesting. Recently, he’s had a slew of notable roles starting from the excellent, William H. Macy testicle-exposing gambling flick The Cooler, in 2002, continuing through to the Aviator and The Departed.

And now Mr B has moved to the telly. 30 Rock is a critic’s favourite in the States, but it’s not a widely viewed one. The US audience figures rate it in the bottom half of the prime time figures, despite garnering multiple, record-breaking Emmy nominations.

In it, he plays TV network executive Jack Donaghy. He’s a largely suave, deadpan and smug figure, who manages to bundle his control-freakery and surprising insecurity in a thick layer of power and sophistication. Like The Office’s boss-from-hell David Brent, he thinks he is funnier than he is (in one episode he sits in, and starts controlling a writer’s meeting), and he is hopelessly inept with personal relationships (in another episode he sets his lead writer Liz Lemon up on a date with a lesbian, hopelessly second guessing her sexuality inaccurately).

It’s an interesting, and initially a baffling, choice for Baldwin. Perhaps it’s because the sitcom is a bit of a grower, as on the surface, and on first viewing, it does seem a little bland. It’s less than heady mixture of token black character, neurotic women and a benign gay isn’t some strange brew that’s going to shake the sitcom map up much. Its observations and intelligence pale into comparison to Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, the sadly axed Aaron Sorkin drama, which ploughed the same behind-the –scenes-on-TV field. However, it’s the one-liners, the performances, the snappiness and the warmth of 30 Rock which add up to something which is more than the sum of its parts.

However, it’s something that is a completely astute career move. Baldwin has shown us he can do all kinds of movies, from action (The Edge, The Hunt for Red October) to comedy (State and Main), hip indie (The Royal Tenenbaums) to utter bilge (The Adventures of Pluto Nash). Now he’s going to show us he can mellow out, develop a character and not need limelight (he’s credited last in the credits; ‘…and Alec Baldwin’).

In it, Baldwin is controlled, insidiously threatening and screamingly funny. He has screamingly hot sexual chemistry with Fey. And he’s not falling into TV because his career is on its last legs; he’s moving into TV because he wants to. He came from there; he is embracing his roots. He steals scenes from the already wonderful Tina Fey. He is great. He is The Baldwin.