Seth Green

Right before the end credits roll on the season finale, the screen splits and Jeremy Piven and the boys go their separate ways. I must decide who to follow, and I believe it has to be Ari. The third season of "Entourage" came to a close with a cliff hanger when the agent was given his walking papers, although this cliff appears to be more of the step-ladder variety than of the K2 type. My fingernails survived the last episode, since anybody with Internet access could see that Piven is signed on to shoot three films in the next year, severely limiting any time he can spend living it up with the rascally boys of "Entourage."

Thus comes the end of an era, and with it my time spent with Vinny, Eric, Drama and Turtle. For those seeking a replacement, I suggest "90210," shown twice daily on the SoapNet.

First of all, Eric, or E, is the worst character on any show I have ever seen. He dresses terribly, he drives a cheesy car and he looks the way I can only imagine Carrot Top did in second grade. Everything about him is off. I hate the way he wears his sunglasses, I hate the way he answers his giant cell phone, I hate the way he sips his coffee during the ubiquitous breakfast shot, as if Hollywood millionaire twenty-something playboys all wake up at the crack of dawn to eat eggs Florentine and discuss the days agenda (read: plot set-up).

The storyline regarding the threesome was painful, if only because HBO showed an uncharacteristic amount of restraint in terms of onscreen nudity and because the thought of two girls wanting E in a lifetime, never mind at once, is ridiculous and makes my eyes water. He dates the boss’ daughter long-term, which is only slightly cooler than his pathetic real-life second-tier Hilton dating.

My favorite scene with E is not even in "Entourage," it is in "The Notebook" when he gets blown up in WWII and dies headfirst in a German snow bank. The Seth Green guest spots were funny not because they were supposed to be, but because I think Seth Green is actually a little bit taller than E. He is a freckled ferret who scurries around Hollywood in a blazer and untucked tee-shirt, the official uniform of Those Trying Too Hard.

Which brings us to Johnny Drama, the reptilian wise old-man who guides Vince through the treacherous waters of Hollywood, all the while alluding to past gigs and those who wronged him. Personally I think the show would be infinitely more interesting if it focused on Drama. He has seen stars rise and fall and he should have more to offer than his trademark one-liners, dotted with hints of wisdom and regret. As the real-life younger brother of Matt Dillon, Kevin Dillon has been preparing for the role of Johnny Drama his entire life, which is a sad way to sum up any existence.

That said, his time spent in the shadows beyond the limelight have allowed him to craft a character that is the closest to anything resembling a real person on "Entourage." He has mood swings, passions and a sense of pride. He punches people out. There must be a deep well of resentment and envy within Kevin Dillon and, by extension, within Johnny Drama, and it is a shame that it was not utilized more within the confines of the show.

It is hard to judge Adrien Grenier as an actor, because he is best known for his portrayal of an actor. Still, I do not think he is very good. He coasts through the episodes with his grease ball style and easy-going "charisma." The writers try to portray him as humble and loyal to a fault, but they really only succeed in making him look stupid. There are times when I want to reach through the television and shake him by his girlish shoulders and tell him to get out there and do what I would do, given the resources.

At times it seems that "Entourage" is afraid to let Vinny Chase get involved, indulge himself, make choices or step out of the mini-Queens he has established in Hollywood. But that is the only way the show will be interesting. Where are the hookers and cocaine buffets? Where is the leaked sex tape, the gay rumors, the Malibu DUIs? Where are the on-set hook-ups, the Namibian babies, the possibly fake babies, the Scientologists? The "Entourage" Hollywood is nothing like the Hollywood I (pretend to) know. It is vanilla and clean, and Vince’s bad behavior is woefully sub-par. We see Vin sleep with a plain girl he meets at a bookstore, and she doesn’t even want to do it again. His one celebrity romance was with Mandy Moore. Not Mandy Moore from the "Candy" video, Mandy Moore from "A Walk to Remember" when she is a teenage virgin dying of cancer.

At a time when real-life Hollywood is rife with scandal and big name celebrities are increasingly under the gun and under the microscope, it is hard to get worked up over Vincent Chase turning down $12 million for "Aquaman." If Entourage is indeed based loosely off of the experiences of Mark Wahlberg, than I am seriously disappointed with Mark Wahlberg, who I always thought of as a pretty badass guy with his Boston bad-boy background, prison record and underwear modeling.

I wouldn’t hate "Entourage" so much if it wasn’t meant to be so cool. After all, there are plenty of shows that I don’t watch and I think are horrible (see "Bones" and "7th Heaven"). But on "Entourage," everything from the suicide doors of the car in the opening sequence to the ceaseless half-hearted name-dropping to the recreational pot use and shopping sprees at the Ducati dealership stand in place of any real character development or conflict or plot arc.

When the show does attempt story-lines ripped from the headlines it does not come off as timely so much as just uncreative. When Saigon’s new manager employs a negotiating tactic from the Suge Knight playbook, the show does not approach any level of meta-fictional storytelling. It just stands there as an unsatisfying ending to a minor subplot.

Much is made of the cameos and the guest appearances, and even more is made of the girls that the show employs. Certainly many stars have placed their tongues firmly within their cheeks and gone on Entourage and winked at the camera and then fled to their trailers and slept with an extra, and none of it made any difference or advanced the plot or made me feel like I was in on some industry joke.

The notable exception was James Woods, who hit the show like a tornado and brought it to Drama and he didn’t need to sleep with a 23-year old actress he found on set that day, because he brought his own - the daughter of a close family friend who makes the bookstore babe look like something Turtle would hit. Overall, the girls on the show are a good metaphor for the show itself - vapid, shallow, and not as hot as they should be.

I suppose this is the problem with Hollywood telling a story about Hollywood. The gloves stay on and the show stays light. The few real barbs are reserved for industry legends such as Robert Evans, producer of "The Godfather" and "Chinatown," who is lampooned in the final three episodes by Martin Landeau, who creaks through the show like a grandfather playing shuffleboard.

Of course, Robert Evans is 30 times cooler than Vincent Chase will ever be, and the "Entourage" writers would do well to take a few pages from his book: multiple marriages, drug abuse, dead friends, orgies, hair gel - a lifetime of great television. In the end it is not so much that I want my life to be more like "Entourage" as it is that I want "Entourage" to be more like my life, or any life. A place where real things happen and people give in to temptations and betray their friends and money doesn’t solve everything, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be fun to try.