Top TV: Honorable Mentions

Yesterday I offered just the tip of my Top TV of the year, but because there was so much fantastic programming, I will now present you with my... Honorable Mentions!
(Believe me, these are all worth mentioning).

Veep- The second season of Veep was a hoot and it might just be my favorite comedy currently on television. Julia Louis-Dreyfus deserves all the recognition she gets for this show as she hilariously leads a superb comedic cast. (HBO)

The Returned- When I was discussing Sundance Channel in my Top TV post, I quickly mentioned that I am currently engrossed in this French show. If it wasn't for the fact that we're mid-season, there was a very good chance this would have made the list. I love the concept of this program and the melancholy feel it evokes. I went into it expecting a horror show, but got so much more than I could have bargained for. (Sundance)

Girls- We all know how much I love Girls. I had some issues with this past season, but there were also some inspired stand outs. "Bad Friend" in which Hannah raves in a mesh top was a delight. And "One Man's Trash" would easily be in my top five episodes of the past year. (HBO)

Orphan Black- Orphan Black is sci-fi in spades. And Tatiana Maslany IS Orphan Black. If it wasn't for her I don't know if this show would be nearly as good as it is. Playing up to four different characters in one episode (including characters impersonating other characters) is impressive enough, but doing it so convincingly that I straight up forget that it's the same actress and actually believe that these characters are all different people is a feat worthy of all the awards television has to offer. And lets not forget to mention the comedic beats, shocking turns, fun accents, and scientific mysteries we get along the way. (BBC America)

New Girl- If I had to give out a Most Improved Show Award I'd give it to New Girl. It found its groove in its second season and it was fun to see it work through the kinks, figure out its characters, and deliver a very funny program with its own brand of humor. Plus Coach is back! (Fox)

Broadchurch- I thoroughly enjoyed this British drama starring David Tennant in another series that does The Killing better than The Killing (the other being Top of the Lake). Broadchurch was beautifully shot, tragically plotted, truly engrossing, and expertly acted. Word on the street is that we will be getting an American version soon--also starring David Tennant (but with an American accent which will be bloody strange if you ask me)--and I fully intend on watching even if I already know who did it. (BBC America)

House of Cards- I may have had a lot of issues with the writing on House of Cards--which really is a deal breaker for me--but everything else about this show deserves a mention. The directing and acting are undeniable. David Fincher set an exquisite tone for the show and Kevin Spacey was amazing, as always. But the breakthrough performance from Corey Stoll was probably my favorite thing about the series (you could say he stoll the show). And I have to admit, the promos for the upcoming second season have me pretty pumped for a continuation of the story. Lets just hope they don't do anything stupid. Again. (Netflix)

Parks and Recreation- Do you guys seriously think I'd leave the most consistent comedy on television out of my year end recap? I love Parks and Rec. Yes it may be getting stale in its later seasons, but it still manages to move me and make me laugh. And for that, it will always get a shout out. (NBC)

Arrested Development- AD gets a nod for pure ambition alone. Overall I didn't love the season, but it sure had a lot of fun with its structure. (Netflix)

D's Top TV of 2013

Its about that time of year when you will see many Top Ten lists of The Best TV or Films or Books or Whatnot of the year. I am personally ambivalent when it comes to such lists. Maybe blame it on Buzzfeed fatigue but I just find ranking and comparing series that are so different from one another to be slightly arbitrary and meaningless. But I find value in dissecting what I've responded to in the past year, as it helps me to further understand my personal taste. And I like doing these year end recaps as a way to recommend programming to anyone who may trust my judgement or share my preferences.

So I'm not ranking these programs. I'm just spotlighting ones that I found to be the best of the year. But please take all of this with a grain of salt as I have clearly not watched everything on television. I gravitate towards certain types of programming and so it is from those heavenly bodies that I judge the landscape before me.

Enlightened (HBO)
I wrote about Enlightened earlier this year when its fate was still uncertain. Now we know that this excellent program was not picked up for another season. There is nothing else like Enlightened on television. It was earnest, existential, spiritually provocative, and refreshing in ways no other program is. I am beyond disappointed that such a fantastic program has been denied the chance to continue to grow and bloom. But I am grateful for the few beautiful episodes we were afforded this past year. And I hope creator Mike White is given the opportunity to run a similar show in the future.
Season Highlights: Episode 2.5 "The Ghost is Seen" was one of my favorite episodes of any show this past year. It opened with such melancholy and closed so quietly hopeful that you'd have to be heartless not to emotionally respond to such superb storytelling.

The Americans (FX)
I straight up loved the first season of this show. I don't know what I was expecting going into it, but The Americans ended up being the best freshman season of a program since Homeland. I don't understand how it could get overlooked by both the Emmys and the Golden Globes, but good riddance. As much as it deserves recognition, I don't need award pressure and blowback surrounding this program. I mentioned The Americans a couple of times this year but all you need to know is that the performances are great, the writing is great, the directing is great, the spy games are fun, the characters are dimensional and sympathetic, and the costumes/wigs are awesome. And above all, it easily has the best soundtrack on television. Forget Glee. Forget American Horror Story (as much as I love all the Fleetwood Mac this season). The Americans uses pop music like no other. Just ask The AV Club.
Season Highlights: ALL OF IT Episodes 1.3 and 1.10 "Gregory" and "Only You" are essentially companion episodes revolving around the introduction and fate of a compelling supporting character.

Top of the Lake (Sundance)
Before I get into Top of the Lake, may I mention how Sundance has been killing it? The Sundance Channel introduced its own scripted programming only this year and every single show has been right up my alley. Top of the Lake happens to be the first of these scripted programs to air and its quite a hard act to follow. Directed by Jane Campion, this miniseries was confident, beautifully shot, deliberately paced, fantastically acted, and reached Twin Peaks level of quirky. Elisabeth Moss led the cast and put in a spot-on performance. Keeping in mind her work on Mad Men along with her work on this miniseries (not to mention her fake New Zealand accent), its easy to recognize the immensity of Elisabeth Moss's talent. The rest of the cast also did top notch work as Top of the Lake delivered in all the ways AMC's The Killing never could. Sundance followed up Top of the Lake with Rectify and then the excellent French series The Returned (which I am currently engrossed in). Each show has the same feel proving that with only three series, Sundance Channel already has its own style of programming and I can't wait to see what else it has in store.
Season Highlights: As it is a miniseries it is hard to pin point one episode over another, but the final two installments are suspenseful, heartbreaking, and revelatory. Which essentially makes the whole series worth watching.

Game of Thrones (HBO)
Listen, I just love me some fantasy/sci-fi. And Game of Thrones is an epic fantasy whose grandiosity increasingly entertains as it continues. But what makes the show so good has nothing to do with its fantasy elements and everything to do with its ballsy, earned, and robust storytelling. This past season was the first time I watched the show after having already read the books and it certainly didn't take any of the enjoyment away. Yes, on some level I robbed myself of a doozy of a television experience, but knowing it was coming didn't diminish the shock in any way. (Just ask anyone who hasn't read the books but has rewatched the season). My only real criticism is probably the very cheesy, kind of racist, over-the-top scene that closed the season finale (but this amazing gif-set, which is cheesy in its own right, made it all better).
Season Highlights: Episode 3.9 "The Rains of Castamere," duh. It was quite possibly one of the most talked about television events in recent history and a huge game changer.

Mad Men (AMC)
When it comes to Mad Men, either you love it or you don't. The latest season definitely wasn't the best of the series, but when it comes to such a rich show, does that really even matter? This past June I wrote an impassioned post about Mad Men's most recent season and I honestly don't have much else to add except that regardless of season, Mad Men is one of the most engrossing and well-crafted series on television. Period.
Season Highlights: As I've said in the past, an entire season of Mad Men is like a good novel and so choosing a favorite episode is sometimes like choosing a favorite chapter of a book (which is kind of an awkward thing to do). It'd be easier to pick out various moments. But Episode 6.6 "For Immediate Release" was absolutely a highlight as it captured a sense of exhilaration reminiscent of the show's classic third season finale.

Orange is the New Black (Netflix)
Basically all summer all anyone talked about was this show, and with good reason. Because holy cow, what a fantastic program. As I mentioned in July, it was incredibly hard for me to shake Orange from my system (not that I wanted to). Something about Orange stuck with me. Beyond its tight structure, great writing, and celebrity directing (Jodie Foster, people!), it was the dimensional characters that made this show what it was. And I admire Orange for its large and diverse female cast, the likes of which we rarely seen on television--especially not in such an enriching format. I'm counting down the days until we get more.
Season Highlights: When you binge-watch a show, episodes tend to bleed together. But episode 1.5 "The Chickening" was a particular stand out in its zaniness. And the end of Episode 1.11 "Tall Men With Feelings" with its fantastic nod to NPR, the montage that it involves, and the circumstances after, is another favorite.

Breaking Bad (AMC)
What is there to say about Breaking Bad? I never wrote a post regarding this series last season as I found it hard to parse out my thoughts on the finale. Months later I find that the final episode doesn't necessarily hold up as well as I would like, but thats fine because everything that came before it was absolutely amazing and expertly executed on every single level. And as for the finale I can't fault it for tying things up so neatly after the explosive episodes we got before it. Walt basically moving like a ghost throughout the final episode, entering and leaving scenes without notice as he calmly tied up lose ends, offered a moment to catch our breaths right before the end. I loved the creepy aspect of Walt prowling about with such ease and confidence as compared to the clumsy fool we met years ago. And how we got there was a crazy wild journey, so far beyond anything else on television. I always said no one does intensity like Breaking Bad, and that was absolutely true from the get-go in this final half of season five. This was one of the best series of television to ever grace our screens. Every season somehow improved on the one before it leaving us with this gem of a final season.
Season Highlights: Forget everything I just said about the finale. Because that was the epilogue. Episode 5.14, the explosive "Ozymandias," was the true ending to this show. Not only was "Ozymandias" arguably the best episode of Breaking Bad, but it was one of the best episodes of television I have ever seen. Everything great about Breaking Bad was expertly exhibited in this one hour of television and everyone watching was left with their jaws on the floor, their hearts pounding, and their minds reeling. The emotion, the performances, the pace, the writing, the directing...every single thing was spot on. And its why Breaking Bad was arguably the best thing on television in 2013.


But wait! That not all....

Homeland: Twist and Shout

As previously stated, Homeland has a few problems. One of which, The Brody Problem, I briefly explored in a previous post. Below I'm going to detail yet another issue I have with the current season of Homeland. For the record, this all comes out of a place of love and admiration. SPOILERS to follow.

Season three's big reveal may have been the cheapest thrill this side of a drawer full of positive pregnancy tests. In real time, here's how I felt about the "twist" that Saul and Carrie intentionally had Carrie committed to a mental institution: relief that Saul wasn't actually throwing Carrie under the bus, annoyed that my emotions for the past three episodes were so blatantly manipulated, critical of the moments we saw Carrie alone, skeptical of the actual timeline, and confused as to why that twist was even necessary. It was clearly a twist for the sake of a twist and it was a poor one at that. It cheapened nearly everything that happened before. The main problem is that Homeland has never used Carrie like this. The only time we knew something Carrie didn't know was in regards to Brody and that reveal was a slow burn that drove the entire first season. Its very nature was entirely different. From the get go, we went into the first season wondering about Brody as we studied his circumstances and tried making sense of his behavior. With Carrie in the mental institution, there was no inherent suspicion that what we were seeing was anything but genuine. It wasn't a fun speculation game in which moments were picked apart and theories formulated. We took this season at face value because we had no reason not to. When the twist happened it actually felt more like a betrayal than a thrill. In the moment my reaction went something like, "Oh, interesting! ...wait, what?" And honestly, thats a disappointing anti-climactic reaction to a show that used to have me holding my breath in suspenseful anticipation.

I simply don't understand why any of Carrie and Saul's plot had to be kept secret from the audience. I actually think if we were in on it the whole time, it would have been a fantastic storyline. We didn't necessarily need every detail, but just enough to keep us aware that something was afoot. Imagine seeing Carrie allow herself to be committed and drugged and subdued and terrified in that hospital knowing all along that she willingly put herself there. Imagine how much richer Claire Danes' acting would have read as she watched Saul's committee hearing on national television. Imagine seeing her break down alone in a hospital bathroom, and not because she's personally struggling with mental illness, but because she's sacrificed every single part of herself to the CIA including her mental illness. We could have had three fantastic episodes rather than one anticlimactic moment of a cheap twist being revealed.

I just keep thinking back to Carrie's slurred, pathetic, heartbreaking, "Fuck you, Saul" and how sorry I felt for her in that moment. And then how angry I felt about that very same moment after the twist set in. That could have been such an incredible scene if the writers simply chose to let the audience in on the plan. Carrie's "fuck you" would have been sad but for entirely different reasons. We would be worried she'd gotten in over her head. Knowing she willingly put herself in that situation--that she's drugged and slurring her words, that she's pissed at Saul for even asking this of her all while looking so pathetic that Saul is compelled to embrace her--is such an incredible moment that we were essentially robbed of for the sake of a twisty plot. Because the show was busy playing a trick on its audience rather than telling a layered story with nuanced character work. Yes you can go back and rewatch the scene and still feel some sense of that, but really the whole moment has been cheapened. It's not going to be nearly as strong as if we knew all this the first time around. You don't get a second chance at making a first impression. And just because you call something a "twist"--and imply that if you go back and rewatch the episodes, your experience will be enriched--simply doesn't make it so. Thats not how a successful twist works.

That being said, all of this was only a third of the current season. We've quickly moved past it and entered into some very interesting storytelling on Homeland. (So quickly that I suspect the writers realize they made a dumb decision). I'm enjoying where we are at this moment and what the show is trying to say about clandestine strategy, national security, and the sacrifices agents make for intelligence. Obviously there are other problems I'm trying not to get into at the moment*, but compared to the cheap twist a few weeks ago, these drawbacks pale in comparison.

Through all this mess, the remainder of this season is still compelling. The acting is superb, the characters are interesting, and this show was at one time pretty awesome. I believe it has some awesome left in it. But perhaps I'm in just as much denial as Carrie. Maybe I have a drawer filling up with evidence to the contrary. And maybe I'm refusing to accept the truth just yet. But I can't help but think if I give it some time, if I check back in again tomorrow, I'll finally get the results I want.


*Like the pregnancy...which...seriously? We're supposed to believe that Carrie was committed to a HOSPITAL without them discovering she's pregnant?! And if it's Brody's she would be showing by now. If not, then why would Carrie even hesitate to do something about it? This bitch is on lithium! That can't be good for a fetus!
*And Senator Lockhart? More like Senator Blowhardt.

Homeland: The Brody Problem

[My apologies for the four month hiatus. I'm not exactly sure how updating got away from me as I was definitely still watching plenty of television and forming all sorts of opinions. I actually drafted a few posts, but never got around to finalizing them. I felt like they weren't good enough and the longer I hesitated the less timely the posts became. And it ultimately kept me from writing. So in the future I'm going to have to let perfectionism slide just a tad. Otherwise I'll never get around to posting anything.

But until then, I have here for you Part I of a post concerning the current season of Homeland. Beware, SPOILERS abound.]

Homeland has a Brody problem. Actually, Homeland has a few problems, but I'm going to start with the Brody problem. Because for some reason the show can't get away from him. The first season of Homeland is amazing television. One of the best seasons of anything I've ever seen. Watching it live week-to-week and having no idea where it was headed or who Nicholas Brody really was elevated the show to an incredibly suspenseful level that it will likely never achieve again. At the time I believed--and still believe--that the first season of Homeland should have been its only season. Clearly that didn't happen. Either way I still can't help but think that the first season should have ended with Brody successfully detonating a bomb. Because not only would it have been an explosive ending of an incredible season of television, but Homeland wouldn't be tempted to constantly bring everything back to Sergeant Nicholas Brody.

Yes keeping Brody alive led to some pretty great episodes in the second season. The Emmy award winning episode "Q&A" in particular was a GREAT episode (all caps, which is greater than great). But was that episode, and the few quality ones before it, worth keeping Brody alive for? Perhaps. I still think the potential strength of an alternate season one finale far outweighs the actual suspense of the early second season. Regardless, the second season, as implausible as it was, exists and played out as it did. And while I took issue with many things, I didn't hate the season by any means. Mostly because the first half was so strong. But when quality notably took a turn midway through I quickly realized what the problem was: Brody had overstayed his welcome. Don't get me wrong, I think Brody is a fantastic character, but the show was doing cartwheels trying to top itself while keep him involved with the story and involved with Carrie. So when the second season ended with Brody sneaking out of the country, I was ready to say goodbye to the character. And I was left hoping the show would refocus and re-inject some much needed Washington intrigue into its next season. To get back to basics. To reign it in and tone it down a little. To pace itself...

But nope. Brody still looms large. We are getting plotlines involving the family he left behind. Which, for the record, I don't hate. They're just given way too much importance and story time. I actually think there's something intriguing about the Brody family in the wake of last season (minus Dana's stupid and completely pointless boyfriend, of course), but spending too much time with them has led to some wheel-spinning and really pointless plot points (unless Leo turns out to be Majid Javadi's gay lover or something). The only Brody family story that really worked for me this season was Dana changing her name and Jessica's tearful goodbye. Other than that this was all some over the top orchestration to get Jessica and Carrie face-to-face for the flashest of flashes which led to The Yoga Play which led to Saul accusing Carrie of putting the whole operation in jeopardy which we ultimately find out she didn't (by "ultimately" I mean we found out five minutes later), so really the whole thing was cheap and completely pointless.

The Brody family aside we also got an entire episode checking in on Brody himself. It opens when he arrives in Caracas riddled with bullets and ends with him strung out on heroin. Which was not only overkill but one of the most ridiculous things on a show chock full of ridiculous things. So the writers expect us to accept that in the stretch of this series (AKA within 27 episodes AKA a little over one season of network television) Brody goes from returned POW with PTSD, to a Muslim terrorist, to a Congressman, to a viable candidate for Vice President, to a double agent, to an assassin, to a framed terrorist, to a fugitive, to an imprisoned heroin addict in Venezuela?!!? Are you fucking kidding me. I'm not asking. Because seriously, you have got to be fucking kidding me. It's in these moments of realization that I can't help but think back to what this show was in its first season. To how GOOD it was (all caps, which is gooder than good) mostly because Brody was such a compelling enigma. Now he's a parody, an almost fan-fictionlized version of himself. Remember when all it took to get an intense moment was Carrie offering Brody his favorite tea? Now the guy is shooting himself up with heroin. How did we get here? Why did we get here? It's so unnecessary and over the top I'm getting steamed just thinking about it.

Caracas aside, we're still getting some decent storytelling out of the Brody well, but nothing that warrants physically keeping him around or hijacking the plot for. This season has its own story going on that only vaguely involves Brody's name being mentioned. But of course the latest episode, which made great strides in moving this season's plot forward, couldn't help but bring Brody back into the picture. I appreciate the show for trying to tie everything together. And I have to admit I leaned in a little closer to the television when Carrie and Javadi were discussing the bomb in Brody's car. Admittedly there's some intrigue there, but that has less to do with Brody and more to do with the terrorist attack driving this current season (and Carrie's emotional stake in it all). But come on. We all know where this is headed. It's as if the writers are strong-arming the story and steering it back towards Brody. Everything on this show seems to orbit around him. We were on the dark side of the moon there for a second, but never fear, I see Brody's freshly shaved melon looming over the horizon. It's as if the show doesn't know how to exist without Brody. As if Brody is the bottom of the pool and the writers are toeing it, terrified of wandering too far into the deep end. As if this show has no other identity or capability to be anything different. If Brody can be a half-dozen things in a dozen episodes, I think Homeland can be a show without Brody looming so large. But maybe I'm expecting too much from this show. I would half expect the writers to stow Brody away, keep him off-screen and keep his name unmentioned for as long as possible before letting a figurative (or literal) bomb drop. But thats assuming Homeland knows how a successful twist works. Which, for the record, it doesn't.

New Favorite: Orange is the New Black

Netflix's newest series, Orange is the New Black, premiered on July 11th and by now I'm sure you've heard all about it. Maybe it's the people I pay attention to and the blogs I read, but I've been hearing about the series from nearly everyone. Whether it's special blog posts, or friends, or celebrities' tweets, or even Jake Fogelnest on my satellite radio mentioning his love of the show before cuing up its theme song (Regina Spektor's, "You've Got Time"), I can't get away from it. Not that I mind.

I started watching the series about five days after it was released and thank goodness I was sick at the time because I couldn't tear myself away. I was hooked. I watch a lot of television. And I love a lot of shows. But few manage to creep into my heart and consciousness as effectively as Orange did. And aside from the topnotch quality of the show, it was some of the little details that really kept me going. Like episodes directed by Jodie Foster and Andrew McCarthy, or fun little American Pie references made by Jason Bigg's character, Larry.

But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Anybody who has been paying attention knows that Netflix has been producing its own original series for about a year now. And I have to say that Orange is probably my favorite. I enjoyed House of Cards and wholly admired its incredible acting, directing, and general cinematic craftsmanship (all for which it was duly recognized at the Emmy's), but I found aspects of its writing majorly lacking. And everyone who knows me knows how much I love Arrested Development and how quickly I devoured its fourth season, but I had issues with the newest installment's structure. (Note: I realize there are other series as well, but those are the two I've recently reviewed).

Orange is the New Black, however, satisfied me on every level. And really the only thing I could criticize is its stupid title (which it shares with the memoir on which it's based, so I can't fault it too much). Nothing about the show felt bloated or superfluous. It felt consistent, tightly structured, and smartly plotted. And above all else it tells some fantastic stories. Created by Jenji Kohan, the creator of Weeds, the show has a similar absurdist humor to its Showtime predecessor, but it also manages to be dramatic and poignant in a way Weeds never really was. The show's protagonist, Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling), is incredibly flawed -- she's narcissistic and always managing to piss off the wrong people -- but also sympathetic and relatable. Piper believed she was living her life "right" in her thirties and doing what was expected, but she's been sent to prison because in her twenties she naively conspired in some light drug smuggling (technically she only moved cash, and not drugs, but the damage was done). We encounter the prison world along with our protagonist. We learn its norms and power dynamics through the eyes of Piper, someone who committed a crime out of a youthful sense of adventure and for the love of her drug smuggling girlfriend, Alex Vause (Laure Prepon). So we meet the other inmates along with Piper and share in her feelings of fear and intimidation as she awkwardly navigates this new world. And together we encounter some of the most random and silly things one would ever hope to find in a correctional facility. The season takes an episode or two to properly establish its world and characters, but once everything is set up the show really takes off.

For only thirteen episodes, a lot of rich storytelling happens on Orange. The show utilizes Lost-like flashbacks to explore the backgrounds of various inmates. And like on Lost, this absolutely enriches the show and its cast of characters. It also lends itself to the show's heart as we now have a fuller understanding of who these women are, what went wrong in their lives, and where their sense of redemption is rooted. And once these women take form, we see that they are just as flawed and complex as Piper. And adding to that heart is the prisoners' sly camaraderie. Yes there are fights and breakups, misunderstandings and blatant cruelty, but through all of that, these women also know how to be kind to one another -- as demonstrated by various moments throughout the series.

The inmates segregate themselves by race. And if this were some other type of show I would half expect Piper to unite and blend the colors á la Sillyville. But Piper is no Sillywhim and that in no way happens. The white blonde woman isn't there to save anyone or to enlighten or educate the poor ignorant prison folk. Instead Piper keeps her head down and handles one reality check after the next as she struggles with finding her place within prison society. There are power dynamics already in play and Piper is just trying to keep her head above water.

We also learn quickly that none of these characters are purely good or bad. Yes they're all criminals so they all have a dark past and are processing lots of guilt and loss. But that's an unsaid commonality that manages to even the playing field. They're presented as not any better or worse than their correctional officers. Things get heavy on this show, but instead of everyone hashing out their emotional baggage, these women bring about an incredible sense of humor and lightness. (Which, according to an actual inmate, seems to more accurately portray prison-life than the gritty portrayals like Oz). We regularly see affective cracks in façades while certain character reveals are genuinely surprising (like Crazy Eyes' family). And the show is all the better for it. Through Piper's eyes we realize this is a prison full of sour patch kids: first they're sour...then they're sweet. And it leaves my heart just as gooey.

The show demonstrates a similarly deft hand at addressing things like race, class, gender, sexuality, and religion. I for one absolutely admire how the show presents the fluidity of female sexuality and even gender. Things that other shows struggle with portraying accurately, things they may ignore completely or use to stem conflict, are simply presented here without much fanfare. And it's incredibly refreshing. For example, the transexual character of Sophia (played by transexual actress Laverne Cox) for whom we get a backstory, but who also feels like an actual person with her own sets of values and troubles. She's more than a token trans character.

I also very much appreciate being presented with such a diverse cast of women. No other show has this large a cast of females let alone ones that are this richly drawn. And to put them in a prison in dull, ill-fitting outfits? That's nearly unheard of! (But by this point we should all know I'm all about girl power so I'll try not to gush too hard about womanhood).

I watch a lot of television. I binge watch just as much as I watch week-to-week. And there's much of it that I admire on both the technical side and creative side. But very few shows stick with me like Orange has. I'm not exactly sure when it hit me, but I finished the season on Sunday and it still hasn't left my system. There's something about it I can't quite shake and I'm not quite sure what it is. So I implore you all to watch it and figure it out with me. You'll surely thank me later.

I mean, the most zen character, Yoga Jones, is played by the voice of Patti Mayonnaise. If that doesn't get you to watch this show, I don't know what will.

In Which I Weigh In On The Sex and the City

Yesterday Emily Nussbaum, The New Yorker's television critic, shared her most recent critique with the twitterverse, sparking much debate, dialogue, and discussion. Nussbaum bravely addressed the struggling legacy of a still relevant HBO series: Sex and the City. I say "bravely" because in the world of television criticism, SATC's "legacy" hasn't aged very well. Actually, it is a regularly divisive topic among not only critics, but audiences as well. For example, Vulture's Sitcom Showdown pitted SATC against the very recently departed and beloved 30 Rock and ultimately gave the win to SATC. The comments exploded in so much ire and shock that Vulture actually compiled the best (AKA most disappointed and angriest) reader comments and devoted a whole other post just to that. Because it was one thing for 30 Rock to lose in the first round. But for it to lose to Sex and the City (!?!?!) was absurd. (The fact that the winner would then have to face off--and surely lose--against Seinfeld seemed irrelevant at the time). Similarly, when Nussbaum linked to her SATC piece yesterday, much twitter debate followed. And eventually other writers weighed in with their own think pieces. [1][2][3] Because how could Sex and the City even compare to quality shows like The Sopranos? How could we compare Carrie to Walter White? How is SATC any more groundbreaking than The Mary Tyler Moore Show or Golden Girls or Six Feet Under? Is Sex and the City even that feminist of a show?

I for one completely understand the divisiveness surrounding Sex and the City. Even my own opinion on the show is at odds with itself, which you will see if you continue reading.

I've seen every single episode of Sex and the City, but I was never a die hard fan. It was funny and entertaining, but I never admired it or looked up to it. I never took cues about how I should dress or act or what my drink order should be. But then again, I was also never a girl who loved romantic comedies, which SATC arguably is (don't get me wrong, there are great romantic comedies but in general I'm not much of a romantic). So I always realized this show wasn't necessarily for me. I don't really enjoy sitting around talking about my relationships. I don't use conversations about sex to relate to other people. Not that there's anything wrong with that type of person. Some of my closest friends are that way. Even my sister. And they love SATC. To be honest, I was always under the impression that most women are that way and that most women love SATC. They sit around at brunch and talk about their relationships just like the SATC quartet. And not always in an emulating way, but in a realistic way--because that happens to be an actual thing many women do. I'm female. I've been there. I've seen it. Its how some people relate to the world. Whereas I use conversations about TV (duh), films and books--and others use politics or music or sports or comedy--some women use conversations about their love lives to connect with others. What SATC did was validate those conversations in an unprecedented way. Even though I never really related to it too intensely, I always recognized what it meant to the people that did relate. Ultimately thats the root of SATC's legacy.

So to everyone calling SATC out for its faux feminism, lets just ease up a tiny bit. I'm not necesarrily defending the show, but SATC wasn't made for people like me and it wasn't made to be picked apart. It wasn't made in the day of weekly recaps and blogs about television. Or when there was a buttload of top quality programming being produced. Yes, there are much more feminist shows. Shows that are actually grounded. That have flawed heroines and a wider range of female "types". Shows that actually have a lot to say about femininity. Like Girls, Orange is the New Black, and Enlightened.

But that's not really fair to SATC. Because SATC was made in a different time for a different type of audience. It was approachable and oftentimes hilarious. And it was at one time a hugely groundbreaking show that has absolutely influenced today's television landscape. Its values have not held up well. And its schmaltzy voiceovers sure as hell haven't. But what it means to women still has. Otherwise there wouldn't be a freaking prequel on air (Carrie Diaries) nor would other shows explicitly reference its influence on today's women (see Shoshanna on Girls or Maggie's meltdown on The Newsroom). In some ways SATC ushered in a new type of female. And that is exactly why it has touches of feminism. As Nussbaum explains:

"Most unusually, the characters themselves were symbolic. As I’ve written elsewhere—and argued, often drunkenly, at cocktail parties—the four friends operated as near-allegorical figures, pegged to contemporary debates about women’s lives, mapped along three overlapping continuums. The first was emotional: Carrie and Charlotte were romantics; Miranda and Samantha were cynics. The second was ideological: Miranda and Carrie were second-wave feminists, who believed in egalitarianism; Charlotte and Samantha were third-wave feminists, focussed on exploiting the power of femininity, from opposing angles. The third concerned sex itself. At first, Miranda and Charlotte were prudes, while Samantha and Carrie were libertines. Unsettlingly, as the show progressed, Carrie began to glide toward caution, away from freedom, out of fear."

Now that's all well and good and there's absolute value in what SATC was trying to say about womanhood. But to me, a truly feminist show isn't a show just for woman. A truly feminist show also has male viewers and presents men and women as equally capable and equally flawed. A truly feminist show actually passes the Bechdel Test.

Yeah, I turn my nose up at Sex and the City as much as the next pretentious critic. But I still acknowledge the impact of the show. And the fact that these intense analyses and conversations continue to happen implies that SATC deserves a tad more scrutiny. And last spring, when SATC lost to 30 Rock (a show I much prefer and which is much more in line with my personal tastes, humor, and outlook), I sort of agreed with it. Because as much as I love 30 Rock and admire Tina Fey and her charming yet influential little show, I also value characterization, risks, story lines, emotional moments, and actual consequences. And while much of what I just listed isn't SATC's strongest suit, it goes for it. And its everything 30 Rock isn't. 30 Rock is pure humor and doesn't give a crap about development. So I hate to break it to the commenters, but Vulture got it right. Believe me, it pains me to say it because to me, SATC can be irritating.

Because to me, there's more to a woman than her relationships and her shoes. And don't get me started on Carrie's stupid little puns and thoughtful glances out the window in the smokey glow of a laptop screen (which is literally me at this very moment). I personally don't need to pick apart every aspect of mine or anyone else's romantic interactions (and don't really see why we need to). And I certainly don't need male attention to validate who I am. Because I already know who I am. Women love saying they're a Carrie, Samantha, Miranda, or Charlotte. But I know I'm none of them. I'm an entirely different kind of female New Yorker. I'm Liz Lemon.



(See? It's divisive.)

In Which I Passionately Discuss Mad Men

One of my favorite things about television, or at least the type of television I gravitate towards, is how it is like a great book or novel. Each season being a different volume in some great series. I guess growing up a huge Harry Potter nerd means I have an affection for serialized storytelling. And I'm always hungry for more. I have an unquenchable appetite for a story with plot, purpose, and payoff. People that feel like actual people is also a plus. In terms of visuals, I've grown to even love the technical side of things, finding myself appreciating certain shots or sequences that a causal viewer may not even notice. Obviously these latter qualities are unique to visual media, but craft is craft. Whether it is a book whose prose you find poignant or if it's a television show whose visual motifs you admire above all else, it almost doesn't even matter what's being said when the presentation is just so damn good. And obviously, one such show to possess all this since its start, has been Mad Men.

When I am in the midst of a season of Mad Men, I feel like I'm in the midst of a great book. Not just in terms of seasonal arcs or plotting, but in the sense that I need time to absorb the chapter I just finished. I need to actively consider the style and structure choices. I need to dissect characters and their actions. I need a moment to recall the lines of dialogue and how they were delivered. And to speculate on where it's all going. And I also can't wait to get online and read how other people interpreted the episode. It's like a great big book club for me. Or an English class in which last night's reading is brought to discussion. I always look forward to reading some Mad Men recaps to gather various points of view or discussion. And heck, Mad Men has made me love comment sections because I will absolutely seek those out. Even the people commenting bring up fantastic points that I would never have thought of on my own. It often ends up being a jumping off point to parse my own theories and analyses. And what makes Mad Men so good is that so much is left open. Matthew Weiner doesn't give definitive answers--which he should never do, to be honest--he just lets people have their own relationship with the ambiguities of his work. And in that sense, it's like a great book.

After last Sunday's sixth season finale, I tweeted that it was probably one of my least favorite seasons of the show. But honestly, that means nothing. Because even the worst season of Mad Men is amazing. And also because I've had almost a week to reflect and while I may still stand by that statement, the season overall has grown on me. The things that I found boring and repetitive were meant to feel boring and repetitive. I was so sick of Don Draper this season. And his endless cycle of self-destructive drinking and cheating and "mystery." It didn't feel exciting or compelling anymore. It didn't feel much of anything. It was lifeless and indifferent and habitual. Yes there were painful low points, but I didn't feel sympathy in those moments. I felt disgusted and sick of it all. But now that the season is over and I'm looking at this complete thing, I realize it felt that way for a reason. Because even Don felt that way about himself.

For example, I was so uninterested in the brothel flashbacks. But I have now fully realized their necessity to the understanding of Don Draper slash Dick Whitman. At times I thought it was just about mommy issues and why Don treats women the way he does. And while it was about that, it was only partially. The flashbacks kept going, implying there was more to them. Their overuse and heavy-handedness are exactly what got everyone talking about them. Every recapper and commenter was rolling their eyes at those whorehouse scenes not knowing that it was all leading up to this incredible character moment in which Don lets his Dick out in a meeting. Similarly, everyone was wondering, "What's the deal with Bob Benson?" which led to a great reveal that's not even really about Bob that much at all. Instead we reflect on Don and who he is, where he started, and what he's become. But Bob's existence wasn't merely about holding a mirror up to Don Draper. It was actually done in a fantastically rich way. Because Bob feels like a character now. He's only been around thirteen episodes, and we don't know much about him, but there's enough there to hold our attention. And all at once, in Bob's reveal, we were presented with fantastic writing for more than one character. It's a twofer. And it feels genius because it came so easily and led to so much more. Because all of this--the brothel flashbacks and Dick slips and Bob Bension mysteries--was in the service of not only character, but plot and story. This whole season was leading us there and we didn't even know it. We were looking directly at it--we were complaining about it and speculating about it--and it still managed to surprise us. And it's fucking amazing. In its subtlety, seeming simplicity, and denouement, it is all amazing. And it's quintessential Mad Men.

There was also the death imagery from the season's opener. And the quote from Dante's "Inferno" that was ever present in our minds, heavily implying that Don had entered some sort of existential hell this season. Not to mention the chaos of 1968, the assassinations and riots, the sirens constantly blaring, the drug induced hallucinations...and also that bayonet incident. But after the Hershey speech it's now clear that the imagery wasn't necessarily foreshadowing someone's actual death (although, to be fair, the finale did include one) but possibly the death of Don Draper. And I love where this season left off. Not only the speech and what it implies about Don's state, but also that brief moment between Sally and Don. And even the moment between Sally and Betty in the previous episode. And also Peggy and Ted. And Peggy and that pantsuit. And Pete and his family. And Joan and Roger (and Kevin). And Don and SC&P. And Megan and that mouth of hers. And Ken and his one eye. And obviously, what its always been about: Don Draper and Dick Whitman.

Knowing that the next season of Mad Men is going to be its last has got me excited. I'm looking forward for this show to end. And not in any sort of negative way, but because I'm ready for some resolution. The show has run its course and everyone knows it. It's been quality since the beginning and I can't wait to see the end. To see where the story leaves us. And to see how the volume fits on the shelf.

Arrested Development: Season Four

It's been about a month since Arrested Development's entire fourth season premiered on Netflix, and therefore sufficient time to not only mull over and discuss the episodes, but give others the opportunity to do the same, I have finally decided to post some quick thoughts about the season (which, keep in mind, I have only watched the one time).

I had mixed emotions going into AD's fourth season. The original run happened so long ago and was so finely shaped by the times it existed in, that I was concerned how an Obama administration, a decimated and recovering housing market, a lack of Iraq war, and the existence of silly new technology would affect the feel of a show I truly love. The fact that these serious societal concerns can even be applied to a comedy goes to show how truly genius Arrested Development is and I was simply concerned that the same level of genius couldn't be repeated.

And the conclusion I have come to in regards to that concern probably best resembles a blurry gray area with some points. The fourth season itself has some incredibly funny moments and small little wry/clever jokes that only Arrested Development could deliver. Upon marathoning the season I found myself concerned that the show wasn't as funny as its original run. At first I found the character centric premise to be somewhat tiresome and grating while the individual episodes felt bloated and strange. But as the season continued, the episodes got better and better until we finally got to Maeby's truly hilarious and explanatory episode. And Maeby's episode led into George-Michael's which brought conclusion, cliff-hanger, and hilarity as well. So in the end, comedically, I'd have to say the season was overall a success. However, it took me some time to come to that conclusion.

I have to say that I did not laugh much during the first few episodes of season four. Don't get me wrong, I was having a good time and a couple of jokes here and there really tickled me, but it wasn't until probably Tobias' first episode that I felt the show finally found its footing. And thankfully, by Gob's episodes, I was fully on board (I'll go on the record as saying Gob and Maeby probably centered my favorite episodes). The recurring gags and jokes were working well and each episode managed to build on the humor and become funnier and funnier. However, I was still having issues up until the very end. And I immediately realized that the issues had more to do with the structure than anything else.

Now, going into the season, Mitchell Hurwitz and the cast did their best to set up the premise: that episodes were to be character-centric, that plot points were happening out of sequence, that it was all happening simultaneously and non-linearly, and we would have to piece it all together as we went along. We all knew this going in. And it was incredibly ambitious and at times quite successful. But as much as I admire it, I didn't love it. I found the constant revisiting of Cinco de Quatro (among other things) to be tiresome. I was getting antsy. At some points I honestly didn't even care anymore to piece it all together--I was just sick of spinning my wheels in the same settings and seeing the same things without moving forward. There's something to be said for thoroughness, but there's also something to be said for momentum. Yes the jokes and pieces coming together were quite clever, but I was eager for more. I was eager to move past all this. I felt the show was concerning itself too much with its clever little premise than about progressing. It was chasing its own tail and it felt as tiring as it looked. And for all that I have to blame Netflix.

Seeing as that Netflix is not an actual television channel and does not have commercials or time slots, each episode could be as long as Hurwitz and Co. wanted. And I think it was a detriment to the season. Some episodes felt too long. And jokes were left in that, honestly, weren't very funny. What made Arrested Development's original run so genius was partially due to its time constraint. Twenty-two minutes to tell a cohesive story. And they did it. They did it hilariously. And it built on itself in a refreshing way. Instead of digging a hole by spinning in the same place, the old Arrested Development solidly rose higher and higher before our very eyes and it was amazing. Every single joke was a keeper, and it was probably because the weaker ones were left on the editing room floor. The fact that little Easter eggs, foreshadowing, and self references also managed to make the cut further cemented its comedic genius by ultimately elevating the show. Yet this time around, those contraints didn't exist. Hurwitz instead tried creating his own constraints, which led to humor and were smart and impressive at times, but were also the weakest aspect of the newest season. It didn't build toward anything much, in my opinion. It was just held up against a wall. Knowing that this is the first third of a longer story possibly leading into another season/movie didn't comfort me. There are too many "ifs" and those deals simply haven't been made. So we were left with this rutted, incomplete story.

My immediate impression of the season in early June was clouded by these structural issues. It didn't feel like Arrested Development. It was impressive and funny, but it wasn't the same. Michael wasn't acting like Michael, but was instead too much of a Bluth. Some jokes were too obviously set up. There was way too much Ron Howard on both the screen and in voiceovers. There wasn't enough ensemble work. Etc. But the clouds lifted and as time went on, I found myself referencing the new jokes in every day conversation. I was working quotes into my speech much like I did with the original run. Certain gags stayed with me over time and I thoroughly realized how very funny they were. The contentious ending was something I actually really liked. The cameos were over the top and over-relied upon, yes, but they were also constant highlights of the episodes. The songs were all hilarious. The successful use of running gags from the show's original run with new ones they created were impressive and a joy. The confusing set ups and little details of the earlier episodes in the season made much more sense to me. And all these actors and writers and crew actually all came back to create it. It actually exists for our entertainment. And it WAS entertaining. And it is way better than almost any other sitcom on actual television.

So overall, like it's structure, my thoughts on Arrested Developmen't's fourth season was very much like a puzzle I had to piece together. I had to work for this conclusion, which really makes me appreciate it. There were incredibly hilarious high points and some questionable low points. But when you place them all next to each other, and step back to look at the bigger picture, you realize how ambitious, funny, and clever the season really was. I'm still not completely in love with it--its no early Arrested Development--but I enjoyed myself immensely. What more can you ask for? I was entertained and impressed and it made me think and my commitment paid off. Those are all things I love in my television shows. It grew on me. And I'm so glad it did. Because I can't wait to sit down and watch it all again.

Comparative Thought: The Americans and Homeland

[This is the second in a series of posts regarding FX's The Americans. The first dealt with my general impressions of the show. There are no spoilers here nor there.]

A lot of television shows have done the spy thing. And wanting to compare The Americans to something like Alias, 24, or Homeland is easy. In fact, I have encountered many brief comparisons to Homeland. Which I find to definitely be warranted. Both shows are quality programs taking place in Washington DC, dealing with counterintelligence and characters hiding in plain sight. And to further align these two series, I found The American's first season to be the best first season of television since Homeland's freshman run on Showtime. So yes, they're comparable. However I believe where Homeland falters, The Americans excels wonderfully.

I would say the main difference between The Americans and Homeland is that Homeland is all soap. Listen I love Homeland, particularly that first season (and the first half of the second), but the show lives on the brink. Stakes and emotion are always high. Scenes are regularly tense, putting me on the edge of my seat. And it's great. It's fantastic television and amazingly well-acted to boot.  It deserves all the recognition it has gotten. But I still think Homeland would have been better off as a one-season show-- I simply don't see them successfully keeping up that pace. They're going to burn themselves out at some point. And while the stakes on The Americans are also high, the characters aren't as extreme. They are just as damaged and just as complex, but more quietly so. The show exhibits beautifully balanced restraint. The characters have quiet moments of tension that I find just as compelling as a manic Carrie Mathison jazz freakout. And seeing a show strike that perfectly soft cord of complex emotion is incredible to witness.

Related to the idea of restraint, is how The Americans is far more nuanced. There are actual themes and motifs happening throughout the season as well as within individual episodes. Symbolism and foreshadowing and mirroring help us arrive at points in an episode in wonderfully artistic ways. And so the show resonates more deeply than the star crossed lovers of Homeland. One fantastic episode of The Americans involved the necessary death of a minor, yet compelling character. But the show never feels the need to spell it out for us. We arrive at that point of realization together with the characters. Seeing no other way out, we have to come to grips with what is about to transpire while the characters are doing exactly the same. And that makes the emotion of the show feel so much more earned. It feels more visceral and relatable. The Americans doesn't feel the need to race to the rooftops and shout out its frustrated darkness. It plays out much more subtly. And it is just as satisfying as anything on Homeland. This isn't to say that I don't love some of the over-the-top Carrie Mathison freak outs or her incredibly compelling cry-face. Because I do. I'm not bashing Homeland. There's just something to be said for a slower build up and letting your audience arrive there themselves.

The American's season finale was one of the best episodes of television I have seen all year. They nailed every aspect of that episode, from the plot, to the story of these characters, to the waves of emotion rippling throughout. And the final sequence utilizing that perfectly chosen Peter Gabriel song brought it all together amazingly well. (In fact, Emily Nussbaum of the New Yorker has a nifty theory regarding that song choice). The Americans has quite an artistic eye. And I find it to be unique to the show. But like the plot and story, it is never over the top. You settle into it and learn to appreciate its little nuances along the way. Meanwhile I can't remember loving a song choice on Homeland (maybe I'm just not into jazz) or a particular camera angle or series of shots. I mean, Homeland is shot well and still remains great. And I'm not saying some cinematic flourish is what makes a show good. But it definitely helps. I mean, just look at Breaking Bad. (No. Seriously. Look at it. That show is visually stunning.)

The Americans: Games Without Frontiers

Oh boy, where do I begin with The Americans? I've been wanting to write about this show its entire freshman season. Every week there was something new and exciting to mention. This is a show I wouldn't mind doing weekly recaps for. If it wasn't for my great Game of Thrones project, I probably would have. Just trust me when I say it is fantastic television. I already know it's going to make my Top Ten at the end of the year. And I have been recommending it to everybody and anybody in ear shot.

At various points throughout the season I went as far as to actually write notes, which would typically evolve into proper posts. But I failed to follow through. Instead I have decided to compile and refine my rough notes and update with a series of posts about the show. So here, my friends, is the first installment of my mega-series regarding FX's fantastic freshman program, The Americans.


First Impressions
The Americans stars Keri Russell and Matthew Rhys as Russian spies living in the United States during the 1980s. Right away, just based on that, I was interested in the premise of the show. A few early reviews seemed to imply that the pilot might be worth my time...and it sure was. The Americans isn't about spies per se. I mean yes, spy things are happening (to an amazing soundtrack of Fleetwood Mac, Phil Collins, and Peter Gabriel, by the way), but there's SO much more to it. There are elements of loyalty and duty to these characters' actions--as you would expect coming from a spy drama--but that loyalty and duty is about marriage and family just as much as it is about commitment to home and country.

From the beginning, one of the most compelling aspects of The Americans wasn't necessarily the time period or the spying, but rather the idea of partnership and marriage. Not only the one between Phillip and Elizabeth Jennings (Rhys and Russell, respectively) and how it is a faux marriage of necessity--a commitment to the motherland via each other. But also the marriage of FBI agent Stan Beeman (Noah Emmerich) and his civilian wife. Both couples are neighbors. Both couples have children. And both couples have secrets within their own family. The Jennings' children, Paige and Henry, have no idea that their parents are Russian, let alone spies. And as the season continues, the dynamics of their relationship comes into sharper focus. Elizabeth comes across as cold, committed, and serious while Phillip appears to take to American life a little too well, and this obviously all affects their marriage. Throughout the season Phillip and Elizabeth navigate the ups and downs of their relationship while also managing to engage in some extremely entertaining espionage.

All the characters have damage and past experiences that others, including spouses, don't even know about. This is made clear in the pilot episode and comes back again and again throughout the season. Stan is still a mess from his past undercover jobs and it is negatively impacting his home life. Meanwhile Phillip and Elizabeth are partners who have been spying together for well over a decade. They have children and they depend on each other in all aspects of their lives. But there's still a distance between them, and individual pasts and relationships the other knows nothing about. The entire season deals with Phillip and Elizabeth recognizing this distance, coming to grips with their feelings for one another--how deeply they may or may not run--and doing something about it. It's a delicate yet fascinating relationship. Especially when they are encouraging the other to seduce a target and gather post-coital intelligence.

Emotions run strong throughout this entire season. To the point that the season finale was so much more emotional than a show about Russian spies in America has any reason being. And that's what makes The Americans such a fantastic program. Not just the fact that I'm sitting here at home with my baby-boomer mother rooting for these Russians and worrying about their safety, but because the characters are so well drawn, the dynamics of their relationships so delicately laid before us, that it elevates every action on the show to another level. And its not cheap or soapy, but rather genuine and relatable.


And Did I Mention Spies?
The show is about spies! Russian spies! In America! During the Cold War! In the 1980s! The clothes! The technology! The cars! THE WIGS! It's all fantastic, really. There are great action sequences, and sexy times, and costumes to keep the most shallow viewer entertained. But there is also a compelling story and an intricate plot with wins and losses and actual stakes. And woven throughout is the dynamics of the main characters' marriage.

Just know that The Americans is one of my favorite shows at the moment. And for damn good reason: because it's a damn good show.

A Quick Post About Veep

NOTE: I know I have been neglecting this blog lately. I am still going to blame it on the fact that I am reading the A Song of Ice and Fire series (I'm about 300 pages into A Feast for Crows). But there are still several topics I am going to try to blog about in the near future. For now, I just wanted to express some thoughts on the current season of HBO's Veep. They're not very well articulated and for that I apologize.

There's not much to say about Veep aside from the fact that I think it has been hilarious from the start. And in it's second season Veep not only continues to be hilarious, but it's hitting its stride so strongly that it is very quickly becoming one of my favorite comedies. A lot of shows take some time to find themselves and figure out the type of show they want to be. And it's usually in the latter half of the first season that things typically come together for the whole production. But seeing as that Veep, being on HBO, had a shorter first season it seems that we're now at the point where it's found its sweet spot. And it's truly glorious to behold. I'm having nothing but an amazing time watching this season's episodes these past three weeks.

No one makes cursing sound as poetically hilarious as the show's creator, Armando Iannucci (The Thick of It, In The Loop) and I have had high hopes for the show and its humour from the start. But now Veep is really beginning to lean into its talent, writing for the actors, highlighting their strengths, and settling in comfortably to world it has created for itself. And I honestly can't wait to see what the rest of the season has in store.

The latest episode, "Hostages" had me laughing so hard and so often that I honestly couldn't remember the last time a comedy was landing so well with me. I love a good comedy. I love shows like Community (which is having a disappointing fourth season) and Parks and Recreation (a show I have long considered to be the most consistent comedy currently on television), but neither of them have had me laughing the way Veep had me laughing on Sunday night in quite some time.

I feel like it's easy to compare Parks and Recreation and Veep seeing as that they both have female leads and are set in the world of politics. But for all the optimism and hope and genuine heart Parks and Recreation has, Veep answers back with equal amounts cynicism, pessimism, and bluntness. They are total opposites of each other yet I still love both for not only their humor, but their respective political lenses. And I love that both manage to even surprise me. This past Sunday's Veep ended with a moment in which Julia Louis Dreyfus's Selina Meyers actually showed some concern (and dare I say, remorse?) for another human being and it actually felt deserved. It didn't feel cheap or random at all, which somehow managed to surprised me even more. When I realized she was showing hints of a genuine emotion it made the episode stand out even more strongly.

Lastly, a quick side note: I was reading the AV Club's recap of "Hostages" earlier this week and the recapper, Robert David Sullivan, brought up this one stray observation regarding the gender politics of the show. And not only do I wish I had noticed this myself, but it actually makes me admire the show even more.

Gender politics: Amy and Sue are the most level-headed people on Selina’s staff, and the males all bring to mind female stereotypes. Gary is emotionally fragile, Mike is a ditz, and Dan is a gossipy social climber. At the climax of “Hostages,” Selina goes into a national-security meeting with Amy and barks, “No, no, you’re not needed here, Gary. This is man’s work. Same goes for you, Dan.”

It's a great point that I could honestly break down in a whole new post. But I won't. Instead I'm just going to gush over this and say that I love the show even more for flipping gender stereotypes on their head. It is only going to enhance my enjoyment of future episodes. And it adds a whole other amazing layer to the comedy of this program.

Game of Thrones: Page Versus Screen

First off, I apologize for neglecting this blog lately. But I assure you it was all for quite a productive reason: this past March I have been reading the third book in the A Song of Ice and Fire series, A Storm of Swords. I have been reading as much as possible before the third season of Game of Thrones premiered on HBO.

I went into Game of Thrones' past two seasons ignorant of the events of the books. I watched the first season knowing absolutely nothing about the series. And I loved that first season. I loved the world and the characters and the intricate yet ballsy storytelling. Later that year I read the first book. By the time I finished and acquired A Clash of Kings, the second season was about to premiere and I thought it useless to read and watch simultaneously. So instead I watched. And later read the book. And honestly, I found reading these two books to be somewhat frustrating. Not because of the story or the writing style or the characters or the way the television series interpreted the written source. But because of how long it took for me to get through them.

Listen, I love to read. I read a lot. And I love to read book SERIES (for the same reasons why I love a quality television series). But having seen Game of Thrones first made reading the books feel more tedious than enjoyable. As I read I really enjoyed the series, but I simply wasn't eager enough to pick up the books. I didn't sit around wondering what was going to happen. I wasn't compelled to stay up late reading. Because I already knew everything that was going to happen (the differences between the second book and second season merely meant a more mild tedium). Instead I would actually put off reading. And in doing so, it literally took me months to get through each book. But I knew WHY this was happening: because I watched the show first.

So as spring approached, I promised myself that this time around things would be different. And I had this crazy notion to actually read the book first. (I was extra motivated to do so because multiple sources informed me that some crazy things happen in the third installment.) And while I'm still not done, I am about half way through. And I've gotta tell you, although it has only been one episode, it's making the show feel an itsy bit tedious...

More after the jump...

Blue and the World of Web-Based Programming

Up until this point, I've been trying to keep this blog TV-centric. However, in an age when a series like House of Cards may never even be "broadcast" in the traditional sense of the word, "TV-centric" takes on a whole new meaning. I like to interpret "television" as basically any form of scripted, serialized story-telling. And if that's the case, than I quickly want to discuss a series I encountered, and enjoyed well-enough, called Blue.

Blue, starring Julia Stiles, is a webseries on a YouTube channel called WIGS. The channel has several scripted original series and short films-- all with female leads. (I have been meaning to look into the other series on the channel, but Blue is really the only one I'm familiar with at this point). Blue is the name of Julia Stiles character-- a single mother who supplements her day job by secretly prostituting herself at night (don't worry, she's the classy kind). The episodes are short (ten minutes at most) and there were only twelve in the show's first season. It took me about 90 minutes to watch.

I first watched the series last year and given the medium, I was pretty impressed by its production, by the acting, by the chancy storytelling and subject matter, and by the emotion on such a limited show. It's obvious they had a small budget, but in a series on YouTube, budget is barely important. Story and performance are what drive the show. Albiet flawed, I got drawn into the story and the character. It is clear that Blue has a dark past and demons to exorcise, but she keeps it all bottled up tight while struggling to provide for her son and keeping her two worlds separate. It really is a very interesting character-driven show that allows a well known actress like Julia Stiles explore something new and different. And there are other familiar faces as well-- aside from Stiles there is Sarah Paulson (American Horror Story; Game Change; Martha Marcy May Marlene), David Harbour (The Newsroom; Law & Order) and Kathleen Quinlan (Prison Break; Apollo 13).

This isn't anything groundbreaking or game-changing. It's actually melodramatic and often forced and awkward. But at least it's something new. The second season starts March 15th. And I have to say, based on the trailer below, I'm very interested to see what this show has to say and where this medium takes us. I am familiar with other webseries (The Guild, which I highly recommend; The Lizzie Bennett Diaries; Battlestar Galactica: Blood and Chrome), and it's very interesting to experience the feel of these shows. In the case of Blue the show doesn't feel like a television series, but it also doesn't feel like a play nor a film nor a miniseries neither. It's something else entirely. And it's fascinating to see this medium shape itself with the help of such dynamic programming.

The Case for Enlightened

Lately, it seems like the critically trendy thing to throw your support behind HBO's Enlightened. Which isn't to say that it's undeserved-- or why I'm even choosing to write about it in the first place. On the contrary, I've been reading so many blog posts and tweets concerning the show that it actually motivated me to throw my two cents into the fray...




Here's the thing with Enlightened, the first season was very good. I enjoyed the meditative feel of the show. It was something different, something I can honestly say I never encountered on television before. It was unique and emotional and reflective and funny and straightforward all at the same time. Above all, it simply felt earnest. While, the first season lacked a strong plot, what pulled me in were certain character dynamics and seeing Laura Dern's character Amy Jellicoe struggle to keep her head clear and above water. It was interesting to see a character choose to make such an intense change in their outlook on life. And to remain committed. To maintain serenity while continuing to face all the people/things that drove her to break down in the first place. It felt human and complex. I personally related in a lot of ways and I admired Amy's devotion. I was drawn to her journey and challenges along the way (and not necessarily the usual twisty plot or ballsy storytelling I tend to love).

Now as its second season is coming to a close, I can honestly say Enlightened has really found its stride, has struck a great balance, and has found its voice. This current season is some fantastic television. I can't express enough how much I'm enjoying it (it's probably going to make my annual top-ten list come December). This show is refreshing. It makes me feel on a level very few other shows have achieved. One thing I distinctly like about the show is how it takes its time-- that each episode is just one A plot. They're not jumping from one character to another within the same episode. This has been true from the start. The first season had an entire episode revolving around Amy's mother (Diane Ladd) while the current season had episodes from the perspective of Amy's ex-husband Levi (Luke Wilson) and co-worker Tyler (the show's creator/writer/director Mike White). Each of these episodes were fantastic in their own right. But they also helped set a deliberate pace. There are so few episodes to work with and I appreciated that the show felt like it could take its time to pause and fruitfully focus on these characters and their mindsets. It helped to shed light on the complexities of their relationships. And while I was initially drawn to the meditations and the emotions of the show, I have to say this season I am enjoying the story in addition to the character's growth.

The best way for me to describe Enlightened is as "sadly-sweet", not bitter-sweet. There is no bitterness or snark here, which is something I find to be uncommonly refreshing. Today so many shows revolve around anti-heroes and their cringy, cruel, and degrading scenarios (which isn't to say I'm necessarily sick of that-- some of those shows are my favorite shows). It's just refreshing to see something different and earnest. To have a show that aspires to tell an emotional/cerebral/spiritual story. To be light and funny and meditative but also sad on such a deep level. (And not like, crying sad. But a sadness in your heart like a pang of loneliness or pity or empathy for these characters and their lives.)

As of right now, the future of Enlightened is uncertain. HBO hasn't ordered a third season and the current season is now coming to an end. I just hope someone decides to continue this show. It's so unique and it'd be a shame to squander all the work and foundation-building that has gone into it. And while I thought it was worth spending my two cents on this post-- on throwing my support behind Mike White and his show-- I'm now realizing I would have been better off saving these pennies and tossing them into the next fountain I see. All with a wish and the hope that I'm sending some good vibes out into the ether on behalf of this truly fantastic program.

House of Cards Continuous Blog

As I mentioned in my previous post, I'm slowly making my way through Netflix's House of Cards. Netflix released all thirteen episodes in one day, which essentially means they want us to devour House of Cards as quickly as possible. When diving into a show and taking it all in at once, nuances in pace, detail, writing, and performance become so much more clear and appreciated than watching week to week. Normally when I marathon a show, it means I'm either playing catch-up as I have not yet seen the season/series, or I'm rewatching a show I very much admire. In either case, it means wanting to present my opinions as the story unfolds seems untimely, repetitive  and ultimately frivolous. But given that House of Cards is brand new and presented in such a way as to encourage binge-watching, I'm taking the opportunity to simply post my observations as I make my way through the season chapter by chapter.

Click through for some of those stray observations:

House of Cards

House of Cards, Netflix's stab at original television, "premiered" at midnight on February 1st. Netflix released the entire season, all thirteen episodes, at once allowing for the type of marathon viewing today's TV audiences have grown used to.

The show is based on a book, and a BBC series of the same name, but adapted to US audiences and situations. It stars Kevin Spacey as Francis Underwood, the House Majority Whip, a democrat hungry for power and all too willing to get his hands dirty. As someone personally interested in politics, this is already something I am interested in. But the names attached to this show have me really hoping for quality programming with powerful performances and a cinematic flair. These are actual movie stars and directors working on this thing, so excuse me if my expectations are higher than normal.

Thus far I have only watched the pilot episode. But I figured it might be a fun project to update with my thoughts and first impressions as I make my way through the show. It also works to essentially outline a final post on my feelings of the overall season (two birds!). Keep in mind that I have neither read the book nor am I familiar with the BBC series. So that being said, lets get to it shall we?

Episode One:

• Directed by David Fincher, the episode has his cinematic style all over it. As a pretty big fan of Fincher's work in film, I'm looking forward to an entire television series shaped around his tone, mood, and vision.
• I am loving the cast and the on screen chemistry between many of the actors, particularly Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright. The power dynamic of this married couple might be the strongest thing about the pilot episode. 
• This is neither good nor bad, but the episode felt very much like a play. Francis Underwood breaking the fourth wall and regularly addressing the camera provides much needed exposition--and Kevin Spacey, with his character's southern accent, pulls you right in. But a lot of it feels like soliloquy or asides to the audience as the story progresses and I'm worried it might get grating, unnecessary, or excessive. But so far, I'm enjoying this creative decision as I think its adding dimension to Kevin Spacey's performance and character.
• The dialogue as well feels almost play-like. The rhythm at least feels very distinct and different than any other show.
• I keep getting flashes of Fincher's The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo whenever Kate Mara is on screen, especially when she's hovering over a computer. It's actually sort of fascinating to compare her performance with her sister, Rooney Mara's, under the same director. I realize the characters are quite different, but so far I find their strength, isolation, bluntness, and ingenuity easily comparable. 
• Clearly the pilot episode is setting up the story, giving us the lay of the land and the foundation on which we can start building. We're still placing cards and working on a strong base, but I'm already looking forward to seeing the house teeter above us. I can't wait for the tense moments where I have to hold my breath as we wait for the house to either hold itself together or collapse gloriously in the blink of an eye. (At the very least, I hope the collapse thrills me as much as the end of an online game of solitaire). 

If you wish to continue following along with me, I will be blogging the rest of the season in a separate post here.

30 Rock: Back to the Start

We have a LOT of significant series coming to an end this year: 30 Rock, The Office, and Breaking Bad to name three. And tonight, in about 90 minutes from now, we will get a taste of our first: 30 Rock will airs its final episode. And as long as I've been a fan of television, I (oddly) have also always been a fan of series finales. So many amazing finales pop into mind. When I think back on classic shows it is often moments in the last episodes that I remember best. Most people will typically say they hate endings, they hate saying goodbye, and that they avoid such situations. (I even have a friend, an avid Lost fan, who put off watching the final episode for a year and a half.) But for some reason that's not me. I always look forward to a good ending, a cathartic conclusion, and an emotional satisfaction with the story/characters. And thats especially true of such a monumental show like 30 Rock.

But before going into tonight's finale, I took it upon myself to rewatch the show's pilot episode (which I honestly don't think I've seen in years...possibly even since it aired). And what I took away was how much this show has changed. Its voice, its focus, the characters, their appearances, and most of all, its comedic tone, were all DRASTICALLY different at the start than where we are today. And this is neither good nor bad. While many of the relationships have developed, and characters have grown, and careers/lives have progressed, that is generally a fair expectation of a critically acclaimed show seven seasons in. And yes, humor often changes as well: just compare early Friends to late Friends. But for a show like 30 Rock, with such a distinct and unique zanyiness it calls its own, I found the more subdued pilot incredibly fascinating. That, and the drastic changes in character (Tracy: skinny, charismatic, and even sly; Jenna: smarter, more together, and easier to accept as Liz Lemon's best friend; etc), were the major takeaways I took from the rewatch. But I'm so glad I got another quick glimpse of the beginning right before experiencing the end.

I absolutely adore the 30 Rock we have today (even if its for only about an hour more). And while I prepare for tonight's farewell, I have been reflecting back on the show's run. It really was such a clever show that bravely addressed race, gender, politics, and comedy without actually even trying to. Besides its quirk, that is what I admire most about the show. And while I'm very sad to see such a comedic milestone come to a close, thats not to say I'm not looking forward to a genius and poignant finale. So lets go to there, people. Because there ain't no party like a Liz Lemon party and a Liz Lemon party is...ending.

The Office: "Customer Loyalty"

So I was trying to get this post out all weekend. But for some reason I was finding it hard to articulate it in a way that made it sound worthy of a post. Then I realized I was making a mountain out of a molehill all over a quick minute of television. And every post doesn't need to be a dang essay.

Anyway, now to the point.

This is the ninth and final season of The Office, a show that has definitely dropped in quality over the years, but which remained one of my favorites out of habit and sentimentality. Its heyday is long past, but at its best it was hilarious and heartfelt, yet cringy and conventional. It was somehow standard and specific at the same time. When Steve Carrell left, the show lost its way a bit, but it still made me laugh (and what more could I ask from a comedy?). I accepted the fact that the story was going forward without Michael Scott (a decision I personally wasn't jazzed about) and that it was probably going to stumble along the way. But I stuck with it, and I'm glad I did because it somehow managed to reveal glimpses of former hilarity and heart. This ensemble is so in tune and professional, it remains hard to resist their charisma and comic relief. I'm glad the show has finally accepted it's time to leave, and I'm even more glad they are tying things up and pushing the story forward.

One thing I always loved about The Office was its acceptance that relationships grow, people change, careers progress, employees have secrets and interests and dreams, and that its okay to just let characters find each other and be together. Most shows would have dragged Jim/Pam out so much longer than The Office did. Greg Daniels isn't afraid to let relationships progress in relatable, natural ways. He still finds ways for there to be stakes and to keep things funny and fresh. This is something I've always admired about The Office (as well as Greg Daniels and Michael Schur's other amazing sitcom, Parks and Recreation).

However, for the past couple of seasons I've been fleetingly craving something else from The Office. For this documentary crew, through which we witness the weekly happenings of Dunder Mifflin, to become more involved with the goings on of these characters. I just felt that a crossover was bound to happen. I knew the writers were perfectly capable of it, and I was surprised they didn't do more with it. Yes there were references and creative flourishes now and again...but I honestly thought it was a missed opportunity that we at least didn't get an intoxicated Meredith propositioning a camera man (straight into the camera and unsettling viewers at home would have been perfect), or Kelly crushing on a sound-guy, or Ryan the egomaniac constantly blogging/tweeting about the crew. So upon this final season's premiere episode, I was very glad to see Jim and Pam talk to someone off camera, asking why the crew was still filming after all these years, only to actually hear a voice respond: telling them they wanted to see where Jim and Pam Halpert ended up, of course.

And then this past Thursday's episode happened. I feel like seasons and seasons have been leading up to the last five minutes of "Customer Loyalty" in which a raw and emotional fight between Pam and Jim led to a devastated Pam looking to the familiar faces behind the cameras for comfort and advice. And she actually received a sympathetic hug from a boom operator named Brian, who put down his equipment and got the cameras to turn away. They broke the fourth wall in those last five minutes and it was pretty riveting-- especially for a comedy that has "lost its way." It was emotional in way The Office has always done so well. We've known Jim and Pam for nine years, we've seen their friendship lead to love and marriage and family. We know them. And seeing that fight was actually really hard to watch (a true testament to both the actors, I have to say). That alone was story-telling I responded to. And then the show actually did something I thought they would have done long ago for a gag. But they pulled it out in a very tense moment instead. And I'm glad they chose such a dramatic and vulnerable moment to do it...to make it important, to spin the show on its head and actually shake things up a bit before bowing out in May.

Who knows where we go from here. Who knows how big of a part Brian and his crew will play going forward. Some people weren't a fan of this reveal. But I have to say, I'm truly excited to see what Greg Daniels-- who returned for this final season-- does now that this card is in play. I for one am excited about The Office in a way I haven't been in years, and truly intrigued by what they do with their final twelve episodes.