Nothing ruins a relationship like communication

The CW's The 100 has a great high-concept premise: 97 years after a nuclear holocaust, the inhabitants of a space station in Earth orbit send 100 criminals to the surface with a mission to prepare for the remaining colonists, but in-fighting, mutant wildlife and holocaust survivors threaten to wipe out those on the surface, while political backbiting and a failing life support system threaten to wipe out those in orbit.
It's a great premise for a show, combining Hunger Games, Lord of the Flies, Battle Royale - in fact every example cited in the first panel of last Saturday's strip as a joke - as well as a dash of pulpy b-movie trash alongside the more literary influences, such as Defcon 4, No Escape and After Earth.
The problem is that it's a show on The CW, and that means if at any point you engage the part of your brain concerned with the process of logical thought instead of the part of your brain that likes to look at attractive young twentysomethings struggling not to rut right there on the spot, it kind of falls apart pretty quickly, like the idea of all crimes on the space station being punishable by death unless you're under 18, which means that all the criminals - even the ones stripping down to their underwear that you're supposed to perv over - are kids, which puts an uncomfortable slant on the exploitative material in the script like aforementioned stripping scene and when characters get brutally killed, and we must also assume that some of the other criminals we haven't seen yet are much younger than the 20-something-playing-17-and-11-months of the main cast.  Likewise the blanket nature of the all-crimes-punishable-by-death mandate goes against the very idea of creating both a sustainable population and a viable genetic pool for future generations, which is a bit of a balancing act in the best of circumstances, never mind if all you have to start with is the limited genetic database of those in orbit when the war broke out, which is at best a couple of dozen people and not nearly enough to restart the human race even if you can surmount the problem of the human reproductive system being entirely dependent upon gravity to function - add to this the arbitrary execution of members of the populace and firing hundreds of your kids at irradiated planets every now and then to see what happens and I'll go out on a limb here and suggest that this is not a group of people that would last very long.  Anyone who's worked with super-smart people can tell you that they're often remarkably shit-brained when it comes to things most people take for granted, so what if they accidentally break a minor law and you end up having to flush the only guy who can work the space-engines out the airlock?
On top of the basic illogic of the premise itself, there's some plotting problems in the pilot, like one character saying he deliberately got himself arrested to be put on the shuttle to Earth, yet mere minutes later we see an angry mob on the station wanting to know what the launch of a shuttle was all about because no-one knows about it, characters getting off the shuttle and deciding they don't need food or water but instead need to have an orgy and take orders from the biggest douchebag in the group rather than the smartest or strongest, the fact that no-one is told they're going to Earth and is just bundled into a ship and fired to the surface in the middle of the night without any training or any guards or any scientists or engineers...
Well, you get the picture, it doesn't make any actual thinking-type sense, but it does have attractive twentysomething actors in Gap clothing wandering around an attractive forest deciding when to have a shag, mutant wildlife, spear-chucking natives, and reasonably decent cgi work.  It's not a classic, and lord knows it certainly isn't original, but if you like trashy b-movie sci-fi it's worth a punt.

The internet said to stay off my feet but then I found this wheelchair in a ditch so now I'm ready to work out

Star Crossed stars the 30 year-old ex-model Matt Lanter as the 16 year-old Space Hunkington (this is not really his name) and the 25 year old ex-model Amy Tea Garden (actually her real name) as Some Chick (probably her actual name), and if I said to you "Roswell meets Alien Nation - go write me a series", you would go off and write exactly this, even though you aren't a writer, you're just someone who was passing me in the office at the time when I pulled my nose out of a bowl of cocaine and you only came in to empty the bins, but it's 2014 and all the writing is done electronically and you are fucked - FUCKED - if you're telling me that no-one uses paper so you don't even have a purpose in this office because you need this job, you have debts - not like "I'm in twenty large to Johnny Fingers and he's gonna break my legs if I don't make good" debts, but it's still 2014 and you have debts like everyone else, so you go off and you try to remember what you can of Roswell and Alien Nation from that one time you caught some episodes in the 1990s at something like 2 in the morning and you put it down there on the page and you print it up and bring it into the office even though you know right there - just like you did when you were writing it - that it's complete horseshit and everyone will see through you, everyone will know you're a sham, no-one will accept a bunch of unoriginal, half-baked tropes reheated like this and that office is just going to laugh right in your stupid fucking face and sure enough I take the script out of your hands and I roll it into a ball - roll the pages into an actual ball - and throw it in your face right in front of everyone in exactly the kind of bullying alpha-male prick display you expect from a cokehead twat sailing by on past successes but little actual ability beyond some passable middle-management skills and I say "FUCK PAPER EMAIL ME THAT SHIT IT'S 2014" so you do and sweet mother of God I tell you I'm happy with it and you maybe wonder in passing why I don't say "it's good" or "it's bad" or make any kind of value judgement at all upon what you are pretty sure is a lousy script but you don't really care that much because you've made it, baby - you're a motherfucking writer now and it's music to your ears when your boss tells you "this is not bad enough to throw in the garbage while you watch, but only just" because this is The CW and that, my friends, is where the bar is.
I've seen worse, I guess.