The West Wing

If there is any artistic justice, The West Wing will long be remembered as one of the truly great series in television history. The show is an awe-inspiring marriage of cinematic direction, excellent writing, remarkable production values, and a stellar ensemble cast.

Choosing a particular stand-out from the cast is impossible only because, even in a series with so many challenging roles, everyone rises to the occasion. As originally conceived by brilliant writer and series creator Aaron Sorkin, the show initially centered on the roles played by Martin Sheen and Rob Lowe, who provide the series with star power, and yet settle into their roles so completely that we forget we're watching movie stars in a TV show. Lowe and Sheen are surrounded by character actors who bring life to Sorkin's snappy dialogue In particular, the otherwise unknown Bradley Whitford and Richard Schiff are such skilled performers that, in their other projects, they bring even the most mediocre scripts to life; teamed with Sorkin's writing and their co-stars on The West Wing, however, they create characters more three-dimensional than some people I've met in real life.

Much has been made of the show changing hands when head writer Sorkin left after the fourth season. This rigamarole is, paradoxically, both justified and overstated. On the one hand, Sorkin's reign over the show is rightfully considered the series' golden era, establishing interesting characters, witty dialogue, and storylines that are surprisingly engaging, when one considers the subject's potential for dullness. When Sorkin left, the lovable characters were still there, but Sorkin's voice was not, and the fifth and sixth seasons struggled with a tendency to slow the pace too severely whenever the characters weren't in crisis mode. As a result, these two seasons are understandably seen as the series' low point, although we need some perspective here: It's a low-point only compared to the countless high points of the previous four seasons, and taken on their own merits, the fifth and sixth seasons still have plenty to offer the patient viewer. (The fall and eventual return of Josh's political power is a particularly compelling storyline.)

The final two seasons shift the focus from Bartlet's presidency to his successor's campaign, and while this move alienated some viewers who were overly loyal to the Bartlet character, it was the right move to make: The extended storyline of Matt Santos's struggle for the presidency provided the series with a much-needed shot in the arm, drawing inspiration from its change of subject, while simultaneously renewing Sorkin's optimistic theme that the excitement of politics lies in its potential to make the world a better place, that the past is important only in its ability to point us toward a better future. Tellingly, the writers were able to maintain intense viewer interest for half a year as we watched Santos struggle to win the Democratic primary -- despite the fact that we already knew he was destined to run against Alan Alda's Republican candidate Arnie Vinick. Just as, in other series, we already know that Kirk will defeat the Klingons and Columbo will solve the mystery, the suspense doesn't lie in whether Santos will overcome his obstacles to win the primary, but rather in how he will do so. If Sorkin's reign over the show represents the series' golden age, the extended Matt Santos storyline represents the silver.

Taken as a whole, The West Wing -- including the episodes that were made both before and after Sorkin's departure -- provides a compelling narrative of such a quality that television rarely matches and has yet to surpass. We are left with both a sense of closure and yet also a wish we could see more. Such is the mark of a good show.