Don't trust the network behind 'Apt. 23'

Producer Bill Lawrence admits that he has never created a TV show in which he didn't make one incredible screw-up.

So where did he go wrong with "Cougar Town"? The title.

After the first season, Lawrence begged ABC executives to let him change the name of the sitcom, especially since it no longer had anything to do with middle-aged women preying on younger guys.

Lawrence worries too much. Titles have little effect on the success or failure of a program. "Everybody Loves Raymond" was an awful name but a great show. "Body of Proof" is a clever phrase; if only the scripts were half that smart.

Nonetheless, network executives pour a lot of time and effort into landing just the right title, one they hope will separate them from the pack and attract a younger demographic. That was the goal in 2010 when CBS signed off on "$#*! My Dad Says," a sitcom based on a hot-buzz Twitter feed read by the kind of young people the network desperately craved.

Only problem was that the sitcom wasn't nearly as provocative as the title. William Shatner's character was so soft that Archie Bunker would have washed him down with a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon. It was canceled after one season.

"GCB," which premiered on ABC last month, was originally called "Good Christian Bitches," after the pulp novel that inspired it, but the network temporarily changed its title to "Good Christian Belles" after some affiliates said they wouldn't air it under the original name. The network finally landed on just using the initials, an obvious attempt to evoke the naughty word without actually using it.

And now comes "Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23," a sitcom that gives Krysten Ritter ("Breaking Bad") a fleeting chance to live up to the title character. She plays Chloe, a con artist who makes her living getting security payments from new roommates -- and then chasing them out with outrageous behavior.

In the first two episodes, she has sex with her roomie's fiancé, gets a 13-year-old drunk, suggests a foursome, steals a wallet and gargles with schnapps. It's a rich setup, especially when she's paired with Dreama Walker as Jane, a small-town Indiana girl who would be the latest victim if she weren't pluckier than she first appears.

But the producers simply don't have the guts to follow through on creating an "odd couple" for a new generation. By Episode Two, we discover Chloe isn't all evil. She's actually just -- wait for it -- misunderstood. I'm willing to bet that Jane and Chloe will soon be as chummy as those fast friends on "2 Broke Girls."

That may make for a fine sitcom, but don't set us up with titles that suggest you're going to break new barriers, and then spit out the same old formula.

Next time, just call your sitcom "Roomies" and leave the salty stuff to the creators of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia," "South Park" and "Louie," people who are truly eager to play dirty.