As Hugo opens, we meet a cute little boy and his new friend, a cute little girl. Next we're introduced to a middle-aged gendarme who has a crush on a single female who's around his age. And then we meet an old man who's desperately trying to pitch woo with an old woman whose dog just doesn't like him.

At Minute Two of the movie, we know the question: Will these couples overcome the obstacles and end up together? Which is why I was screaming at Minute Three, "GET THIS SHIT OFF MY TV!"

NBC's new Smash follows the contrary construction. (How did I get to preview it? We slightly-popular bloggers don't adhere to the same tedious programming rules as you regular folks.) Instead of each character being paired with an eligible partner, though, they're all weighed down by one giant problem.

Debra Messing and her hubby want to adopt, which is why she's taking time off from writing boffo musicals. Her best intentions go awry, though, when her writing partner comes up with a brilliant new idea:

DEBRA: A musical about Marilyn Monroe entitled "Marilyn: The Musical." That's incredible. Clearly you've spent a lot of time thinking about this.

Yeah, because the best I could come up with was Some Like It Washed Down With Nebutal. Even before they've written the first song, critics proclaim the show a smash, and the next day it's in previews. But what about the baby? It's not like a rich white woman can hang around a piano all day and raise a child at the same time. (Take that, bitches who try to have it all.) If Debra comes out of retirement, will her husband finally reach his breaking point?

Dark-Haired Marilyn Wannabe (Katharine McPhee) has unattractive parents who think she'll never fulfill her dreams of stardom. Can she prove them wrong? The director has the hots for DHMW, but Iowa girls don't leap into bed until wedding rings and cheese curds appear. Will Blonde-Haired Marilyn Wannabe sleep with him and steal the lead?

All of this is just as artificial as Hugo, and just as unsatisfying. Totally unacceptable, though, is what they've done to Marilyn. Audition after audition shows they've morphed our shy little flower into an American Idol-style belter. She's got Liza Minnelli's self-confidence, and she's belting out songs to the rafters:

MARILYN: CAN YOU HEAR ME IN THE LAST ROW, FELLAS? I WAS SINGING, 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MR. PRESIDENT, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SKIDDLY-DADDLY-DWEE-BOP YEW-OOOO-OOOO!!!'

If that makes you cringe, just wait for the scene where Marilyn decides she wants to date Joe DiMaggio, so she visits the Cubs' locker room. Yes, because five minutes of a ninety-minute Marilyn biography should consist of guys in pinstripes carrying her around while she caterwauls about peanuts and the difficulties of getting to second base. This boisterous broad only gets breathless after she's rotated the tires on her Jeep Cherokee.

So, adios Smash. Ride your silly conflicts into the sunset. And good luck, Actual Marilyn. I hope people remember you like I do, all breath and restraint and shy smiles, before you became so loud and confident you seemed a cinch for a Der Wienerschnitzel ad.