Only four days in and NBC has already given Nielsen viewers yet another reason to return their ratings boxes and beg for release from the responsibility of checking out the network’s latest new comedy offering. It’s not just that “Committed,” which debuts tonight at 9:30 p.m. (NBC’s equivalent of a cursed restaurant location), fails to deliver a single laugh in three episodes, or that it offers two of the least appealing lead performances in recent sitcom history, or that it actually incorporates a subplot involving a clown who lives, without explanation, in a closet. There’s a stench around this series so powerful that it could fell the form itself. And that, of course, is a testament to the continuing and almost stupefying ineptitude of Jeff Zucker, the NBC executive who for approving this show deserves a punishment worse than dismissal from his high-powered job. How about strapping him to a chair and forcing him to watch “Committed” on an endless loop?

It’s clear that the creators of “Committed” thought they were developing a network-sanitized version of Larry David’s HBO series, “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” by way of the New York singles world. The premise of “Committed” puts two quirky, attractive (by that annoyingly white-bread definition of attractive promoted by TV casting agents) people in politically incorrect situations meant to resemble Mr. David’s regular run-ins with minorities and the handicapped. But instead of celebrating the dark comedy that derives from Mr. David’s rancid sensibility, the writers of “Committed” insult Mr. David by wrapping their show around a dog-eared sitcom premise that’s ready for retirement: young eccentrics in love.

Nate and Marni meet cute, of course; they’re halfway through their first date before they realize they’re on a blind date with the wrong person. The supposed charm of Nate derives from his smorgasbord of neuroses; he’s a compulsive pack rat who can’t ride in elevators and who, despite his intelligence, makes his living as a clerk in a record store. Fortunately, Marni turns out to be just as quirky as Nate; we can only assume this because she’s the one who allows a clown to live in her closet. Josh Cooke and Jennifer Finnigan, the actors who’ve chosen to end their careers early by accepting these roles, couldn’t be less compelling to watch on a weekly basis; they’re blond, bland, and blissfully stupid.

Before the end of the first episode, the show’s creators (DeAnn Heline and Eileen Heisler, who created a 2001 NBC flop in the same timeslot, called “Three Sisters”) manage to maneuver themselves into “Curb Your Enthusiasm” territory with the introduction of Todd, a black man in a wheelchair whom Marni inexplicably brings along to her second date with Nate. When Nate tells Marni he doesn’t want Todd to tag along, it turns into an epic misunderstanding that allows Todd to manipulate Nate into epic white guilt, compounded by stupidity – a joke that’s repeated so often that it spills over into the next episode, when Todd returns to wreak further havoc on Nate.

When a romantic-comedy sitcom succumbs to wheelchair humor by the second episode, you know you’re in serious trouble. And by “you” I mean the writers, who’ve scribbled themselves into a comedy hole from which there’s no escape. The mating dance ends way too quickly; by the third episode Nate and Marni have settled into a relationship, which is the sitcom equivalent of death. The recurring gag of Tom Poston (the aforementioned clown) emerging from Marni’s closet only underscores the desperation of the writers, who have no tension or story to build on or develop. By the end of episode three, they’re left with nothing except the standard sitcom playbook. By episode six, Nate will surely be stuck in an elevator; by episode nine, Marni will have two dates to the prom. By episode 13, “Committed” will be canceled.

***

Elsewhere on the junkheap that is the NBC midseason schedule, you’ll find an overwrought and undercooked series called “Medium,” created by the gifted TV writer Glenn Gordon Caron, responsible for the 1980s classic comedy-drama “Moonlighting.” This mediocre series will not surpass that achievement. Patricia Arquette stars as Allison Dubois, a law student and mother of three who belongs to that increasingly large subset of the population who can see dead people. Ms. Arquette turns her gift into an investigative tool; the pilot might have made for an interesting episode of “C.S.I.,” but fails to suggest a winning formula for a weekly series. The fault lies largely with Ms. Arquette, who doesn’t have the charisma to carry a show, especially one this moody and macabre. Mr. Caron, who memorably cast Cybill Shepherd and an unknown Bruce Willis as his “Moonlighting” leads, has missed the mark in choosing someone so passive as the center of his otherwise intriguing concept.

But Mr. Zucker may not notice its flaws; he will be more closely supervising the “Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Model Search,” which debuts tomorrow night at 8 p.m., up against ABC’s terrific “Lost” and CBS’s well-done Wednesday edition of “60 Minutes.” The bald, diminutive NBC chief has devoted much of his tenure to developing shows that let him hang out with tall, beautiful supermodels. To be sure, this isn’t the first time a network television executive has programmed his schedule according to the blood flow to his genital area; but this “Are You Hot?” knockoff reaches new depths in Mr. Zucker’s continuing efforts to titillate himself. Whether anyone else will be watching seems utterly beside the point.