Note: The purpose of Whose Film Is It Anyway? is to examine the validity of the auteur theory through the lens of individual film-makers, taking a look at their bodies of work and highlighting the technical elements, personal style, and thematic consistency of their films. Ultimately, the goal of this column will be to generate a discussion of the merits of auteur theory through examinations of directors widely considered auteurs, analyses of directors whose status as auteurs is more tenuous, and occasional looks at non-directors who may drive the quality and content of their films with more assuredness than the directors they work with.
“They’re coming to get you Barbara!”-Johnny (Russell Streiner), Night of the Living Dead
Before we begin, a confession: I’ve never been a huge fan of horror movies. This is true for many reasons. To begin with, when I was younger, I was legitimately terrified of even the idea of a scary movie. My fear that scary movies would, you know, scare me was probably stronger than my reaction to any given horror movie would have been. To this day, I’m not sure I really get the idea of watching a movie for the express purpose of being made afraid. I understand going to see a comedy—everyone wants to laugh. I get going to see a drama—they can make you think and make you feel. I don’t understand why anyone would actively try to frighten themselves for fun. It just isn’t in my DNA.
Beyond that, there is a dearth of quality films in the horror genre that seems to me more apparent than in any other genre. There are going to be bad movies of all types, but to my eye, horror films have produced the largest number of subpar entries imaginable. Terrible subgenres like the torture-porn craze that began with Saw (I did see the first one, and was unimpressed. So I skipped the subsequent 30 or so entries) and Hostel spring up, and people with pretty much no budget, no ideas, and a video camera can make an independent horror movie that’s a smash hit even if it isn’t actually good (see The Blair Witch Project which would have been awful at any budget). Combine my general lack of interest in being terrified out of my wits and the lack of quality horror movies being produced, and you see why I mostly steer clear.
Yet one of my ongoing quests in life is to see as many “classic” movies as possible (hence my ongoing Movie Quest feature, which I promise is not dead, just delayed indefinitely by the constant parade of movies I have to watch in order to write this column on a bi-weekly basis), and so, seeing as October is Halloween season, and Halloween is a time for a few frights, I have decided to dive into horror with the next two installments of Whose Film Is It Anyway?, tackling two of the genres auteurs, and seeing some of its most famous entries in the process. This week, I will be examining the films of B-Movie legend George A. Romero.
It would be impossible to try and get a handle on Romero as an auteur without diving into his “The Living Dead” films, which are by far his most famous movies, and also an excellent place to begin an examination of Romero’s defining aesthetic: his tendency to inject social commentary into his films. As Romero himself put it, “I don't try to answer any questions or preach. My personality and my opinions come through in the satire of the films, but I think of them as a snapshot of the time. I have this device, or conceit, where something happens in the world and I can say, 'Ooo, I'll talk about that, and I can throw zombies in it! And get it made!' You know, it's kind of my ticket to ride.” Romero also made each of the three films that comprise the original “Living Dead” trilogy (he has made three subsequent “Living Dead” films in the last ten years, to mixed success) in different decades, allowing him to explore the issues of the day in each of the films, and keeping those examinations contemporary. Romero explains, “My zombie films have been so far apart that I've been able to reflect the socio-political climates of the different decades. I have this conceit that they're a little bit of a chronicle, a cinematic diary of what's going on.”
In that view, Romero’s first film, Night of the Living Dead is clearly a tale of social upheaval that was right at home in its release year, 1968. The film centers on Ben (Duane Jones), an African American taking charge of a group who have barricaded themselves within a farmhouse in an attempt to keep out hordes of “ghouls” who are trying to eat their flesh (the creatures are never called zombies in Night, and in fact Romero did not necessarily intend them to be read that way. Once the term became popularized in reference to the film, though, he adopted it for the subsequent entries). Ben’s race is significant not only because the film can be read as a satire of America’s often narrow-minded views on race (and in fact, SPOLIER ALERT FOR A 40 YEAR OLD MOVIE Ben’s death at the end of the film is not at the hands of the hordes of the undead, but rather by the pistol of a redneck police officer), but also because Ben is the first of a trend in Romero’s films of subverting the horror trope of the black character dying first. In fact, instead of quickly dispatching the African American’s in his films Romero often champions them as heroes who can make sense of the chaos and lead the survivor’s through the dangers they will face. Another trope Romero subverts first here is the early death of the blonde girl in the cast. Instead of killing Barbara (Judith O’Dea) in the film’s opening scene, Romero keeps her alive, and involved in the action, for most of the film’s run time. Additionally, instead of portraying her as a slut, as many horror films tend to, Barbara is seen as a shy, quiet girl who is dedicated to her family (Though there is an argument to be made that Barbara is pretty helpless and lacks the empowerment that might have made her a feminist figure in the film). Romero also notably utilizes catharsis throughout his films—characters generally get what they deserve, and you can expect the most unlikeable characters to have the most violent and bloody deaths when the zombies come a-knockin’.
In 1978, Romero released Dawn of the Dead, which switches the target of Romero’s satire to consumerism. Four people attempt to escape the chaos of the collapsing society by barricading themselves alone in a mall, replete with every resource they could ever desire. They eventually grow bored with their materialistic paradise, but before they can learn any meaningful life lessons about the power of human connections over the possession of goods, a gang of looters break into the mall and bring with them swarms of the undead, who near the film’s end, still pace empty eyed and groaning through the mall (for the scene in question, go to 10:37 in the video below and enjoy). Even after we’re dead, it seems, we still like “stuff." Dawn also continues Romero’s tendency of subverting race and gender expectations of the genre as African American SWAT member Peter (Ken Foree), and blonde woman Francine (Gaylen Ross) are the only survivors left by the film’s end.
The final film in the original trilogy, 1985’s Day of the Dead, is less successful, both as a film, and as a satire. Romero aims his satirical eye at both sides of the political spectrum as the denizens of an underground military base try to cope with the destruction of society. On the one side of the debate are the scientists, chief among them Dr. Matthew Logan (Richard Liberty) who wants to train and domesticate the zombies. On the other side is Captain Rhodes (Joe Pilato), a violent, power hungry military cliché who just wants to kill all the zombies, and anyone who stands in his way. Between them is Sarah (Lori Cardille), a doctor who tries to bridge the gap between the two camps. The problem with Day of the Dead (which is much more long-winded and involves far fewer scenes of zombie slaughter) is that neither camp is right, no character is particularly sympathetic, and audiences are left alienated and rooting for everyone involved to be slaughtered by the masses of undead sooner rather than later. I never mind a film filled with unsympathetic characters if they are unlikable for a reason, but Day of the Dead just seems misanthropic without lending any particular theme or reason.
Far more successful is Romero’s favorite of his own film’s, 1978’s Martin. Leaving behind the zombies that made him famous, Martin takes on the vampire mythology, though with an interesting twist. Romero pays lip service to the economic strife of the late ‘70s, but he is more interested here with the conflict between the superstitions of the old world and the cynicism of the younger generations. Martin (John Amplas) is a vampire—or at least he thinks he is. Really, he isn’t repelled by garlic or crosses, and the sun only sometimes bothers his eyes a little bit. But he does have urges to consume human blood, which leads him to murdering beautiful women, stripping them naked, and drinking their blood. When he is forced to move in with his superstitious granduncle Tada Cuda (Lincoln Maazel), who calls him Nosferatu and threatens to murder him if he does not keep his unearthly urges under control, the generations clash. Tada Cuda believes Martin is the newest in a line of vampires that have appeared in the family for generations, a demon from hell who must be controlled or killed. But Martin knows better. “Things only seem to be magic,” he insists throughout the film, “There is no real magic. There is no real magic ever.” The horror aspects of the film play out more like scenes from Dexter as Martin stalks, and often ineffectively attempts to subdue and murder his victims. Yet Romero parodies the tropes of the vampire film as Martin fantasizes about being a real vampire in black and white sequences that play out like overdone versions of the Lugosi starring Dracula films.
Looking at Romero’s films through the lens of horror, they are solid achievements in a genre I am prone to dislike. Examining the idea of Romero as an auteur, it is clear that certain tendencies persist throughout his work. Romero is at heart a satirist, exploring the issues of the day through the prism of the undead, and throwing in enough blood and gore to keep the weak-hearted away. Each of his film’s is a personal expression of his feelings at the time he made it, and an examination of the construction of our society at the moment of its release. The world of Night of the Living Dead is one in the midst of great social upheaval, Dawn of the Dead condemns the materialism that drives us, Day of the Dead pleads against extremism (though poorly), and Martin, at heart, examine the conflict between the generations. Each of these movies examine real life problems that plagued us both at the time of their releases and still today. The zombies that trudge through Romero’s films are (un)dead, but issues like racism, materialism, and extremism live on. And that, Romero tells us, is what’s really scary.
Read more Whose Film Is It Anyway? here
Coming up on Who's Film Is It Anyway?:
10/24: Halloween Horror Auteur Month: John Carpenter
11/7: James Cameron
11/21: Kathryn Bigelow
12/5: Darren Aronofsky
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Jordan's Review: 30 Rock, Season 5, Episode 3: Let's Stay Together
After last season was filled with more misses than hits, this week's 30 Rock had a plea to follow up last week's winner in its title, "Let's Stay Together." As if to prove that it deserves my continued attention (which wasn't really wavering even at its low points), the show turned out another winner tonight, mixing its unique brand of absurdity with some solid plotting and inspired lunacy.
Jack's efforts to seal the deal for Kabletown lead him to testify before Congress, whre he is confronted by Congressman Rob Reiner and Congresswoman Bookman (Queen Latifah) who have concerns about vertical integration and the lack of diversity on NBC. This of course leads Jack t obegin promoting diversity on the show, using every black character to make it seem like his network was more diverse. Twofer got a promotion to co-head writer (and got people to start calling him James for once), Dot Com was allowed to start producing his show, a '70's set opus that gave the episode its title, and was quickly ruined by the "creative input" of Grizz and Tracy, who insisted on adding a talking dog.
In a simple, but humorous B-plot, Jenna channeled her mother as she trained Kenneth to compete in a pageant to decide whether he could rejoin the page program. And when Kenneth failed, Jack ordered he be hired anyway, which of course meant that the programs "Diversity Hire" went to Kenneth instead.
To be fair, the satire in tonight's episode is more than a little toothless, and not nearly as dead on as I expect from 30 Rock when it dabbles in political commentary. Yet I don't really expect this show to do that so much as I expect it to be a mad cap office comedy and showbiz send up, marked more by sheer insanity than by insightful examinations of society. And on that front, it delivered, with Latifah walking through the studio to Tracy chasing Lutz with a samurai sword, Twofer getting a medal, and Jenna tap dancing like mad for attention. So it was not a perfect episode. But it was a funny one, and that makes me pretty happy.
Grade: B
Notes:
-Excited for next week's live episode!
-The writers call Liz "Winona Ryder in 100 years."
-"Here is a list of the legal names we can use: Jerry Bananaseed. And that's it."
-"Oh, we can't use Jerry Bananaseed. He killed a bunch of nurses in Portland."
-"Outsourced is the new Friends."
-"Sir, my name is Rob Reiner. Before I was elected to Congress, I dabbled in television."
-"Oh, everyone born before Jesus is in Hell..."
-"And Anthony Anderson, the star of Law and Order which is entering its 21st...What? Why did we cancel that? It doesn't make any sense!"
-"Dot Com productions." "That's Tracy Jordan spelled backwards."
-"Monty Appleseed and I share a liquor locker at the opera."
-"Thank you NBC! A top ten network!"
-"you are Right On's Arthur Ash of the week."
-"Hey, you eat food from your own table. Our food is separate. Separate!" "I'll kill you white devil!"
-"Maybe I get carried away with my love for this great country...and the troops...and the flagtroops..."
-"I'm cutting that fat cracker's head off!" "I'm an eskimo!"
-"Stanley, even for a dog, you're a dog!"
Jack's efforts to seal the deal for Kabletown lead him to testify before Congress, whre he is confronted by Congressman Rob Reiner and Congresswoman Bookman (Queen Latifah) who have concerns about vertical integration and the lack of diversity on NBC. This of course leads Jack t obegin promoting diversity on the show, using every black character to make it seem like his network was more diverse. Twofer got a promotion to co-head writer (and got people to start calling him James for once), Dot Com was allowed to start producing his show, a '70's set opus that gave the episode its title, and was quickly ruined by the "creative input" of Grizz and Tracy, who insisted on adding a talking dog.
In a simple, but humorous B-plot, Jenna channeled her mother as she trained Kenneth to compete in a pageant to decide whether he could rejoin the page program. And when Kenneth failed, Jack ordered he be hired anyway, which of course meant that the programs "Diversity Hire" went to Kenneth instead.
To be fair, the satire in tonight's episode is more than a little toothless, and not nearly as dead on as I expect from 30 Rock when it dabbles in political commentary. Yet I don't really expect this show to do that so much as I expect it to be a mad cap office comedy and showbiz send up, marked more by sheer insanity than by insightful examinations of society. And on that front, it delivered, with Latifah walking through the studio to Tracy chasing Lutz with a samurai sword, Twofer getting a medal, and Jenna tap dancing like mad for attention. So it was not a perfect episode. But it was a funny one, and that makes me pretty happy.
Grade: B
Notes:
-Excited for next week's live episode!
-The writers call Liz "Winona Ryder in 100 years."
-"Here is a list of the legal names we can use: Jerry Bananaseed. And that's it."
-"Oh, we can't use Jerry Bananaseed. He killed a bunch of nurses in Portland."
-"Outsourced is the new Friends."
-"Sir, my name is Rob Reiner. Before I was elected to Congress, I dabbled in television."
-"Oh, everyone born before Jesus is in Hell..."
-"And Anthony Anderson, the star of Law and Order which is entering its 21st...What? Why did we cancel that? It doesn't make any sense!"
-"Dot Com productions." "That's Tracy Jordan spelled backwards."
-"Monty Appleseed and I share a liquor locker at the opera."
-"Thank you NBC! A top ten network!"
-"you are Right On's Arthur Ash of the week."
-"Hey, you eat food from your own table. Our food is separate. Separate!" "I'll kill you white devil!"
-"Maybe I get carried away with my love for this great country...and the troops...and the flagtroops..."
-"I'm cutting that fat cracker's head off!" "I'm an eskimo!"
-"Stanley, even for a dog, you're a dog!"
Jordan's Review: Community, Season 2, Episode 3: The Psychology of Letting Go
So there's this thing. Its called death. And it happens to everyone. But no one particularly likes that fact, and indeed, many people try to deny it. Many movies, episodes of television, and even full series (like Six Feet Under, for example), are dedicated to the examination of death and people's reactions to it. This week, Community dabbled into the waters of inevitable mortality, and by my count, it did a pretty solid job of examining it from all angles. When Pierce's mother dies, death touches the study group, and everyone is affected by it--everyone save Pierce that is.
Pierce uses his New Age Buddhism to deal with his mother's death with one of the five stages, denial. He claims that his mother is going to be vaporized and later, re-injected into a new body so she can get back to making he and Troy sandwiches. Everyone in the group tries to deal with this fact in different ways--Shirley, Annie, and Britta begin by judging Pierce's weird beliefs, while Jeff preaches tolerance (mostly because he doesn't care). Yet when Jeff finds out that he has high cholesterol (from Patton Oswalt, returning as the cleverly named Nurse Jackie), he begins to recognize his own mortality, and in true Jeff fashion, decides its time to crush Pierce's delusions by showing him his mother's corpse on a slab. But of course, Jeff has grown as a person, and instead, after being confronted with a message left by Pierce's mother, Jeff takes Pierce and Troy for ice cream, realizing that life is fleeting, everybody dies, and he might as well enjoy his life. All of this is ground that's bee ncovered before, but that doesn't take away from how well Community handles it. Jeff is exactly the type of person who would heartily avoid admitting his own mortality, and Pierce's ridiculous religious beliefs have been played out before to good effect.
In a subplot that has also been tread before, but was also well handled, Annie and Britta have a confrontation that could only arise between, as Shirley calls them "skinny white bitches." As the two try to get people to donate to clean up after the oil spill, Britta tries to argue people into donating (as one guy puts it, "You don't have to yell at us. Nobody is on the other side of this issue.") and Annie uses her naivety to seduce people into donating. The two fight over their varying methods, and it eventually devolves into an excellent sight gag of the two wrestling in oil. The resolution, which has them both explaining away their flings with Jeff, is a little too pat and seems to be aiming for restoring the status quo in a way that is odd for the series. However, I feel the writers want to dig themselves out of the hole of last year's finale, and I'm ok with it hitting the reset button in this case.
For additional bonus points, John Oliver returned tonight, subbing in for Betty White, who is on paid academic leave after trying to strangle Jeff in the premiere (though she does cameo again in the blip, debating the plot of inception with an African tribe). Oliver may not appear that often, but he makes the most of it when he does, as he spends tonight toying with Chang, using his restraining order to force Chang around. One of this show's strengths is its surprisingly large cast of recurring players, including Oswalt and Oliver, and bringing them back every once in a while enriches the world of Greendale while also providing additional laughs. "The Psychology of Letting Go" succeeds not be breaking barriers or treading on new ground, but by taking well worn themes and making them feel fresh again. And it did it even with an Abed-lite episode (though the observant viewer might have noticed that Abed was off battling death in his own way by helping a pregnant woman around, and even eventually delivering her baby in the back of an SUV, playing with tv tropes even when he wasn't given much to do). All in all, Community knows what its doing ,even when its doing things we've seen before.
Grade: A-
Notes:
-"I'm so glad this tragedy overshadowed Haiti. I didn't have any ideas for that."
-"She's used up her organic body." "...by dying in it."
-"Who's normal Abed?" "Well, Baptists are, but that's beside the point."
-"Also, you're free from the burden of your earthly bosy." "It IS a burden." I love how quickly Troy got on board with Pierce's religion. Another great moment: "What? I want to eat a ghost!"
-"So what is anthropology? Seriously, does anybody know?"
-"Wait, did I accidentally tell you you have AIDS? Because I've done that before..."
-"Alright, let's get going. These paps aren't going to smear themselves."
-"We all have notions that we're the exception, but we're as wrong as we are dead."
-"If a guy wants to make a puppet of me, that's hardly your concern."
"Life ends with death, which we are cursed with knowing. This is called...something. Again, this isn't my field."
-"I think you're being a little childish. Hold on a second, I need to use my forcefield to prevent Chang from getting food."
-"Goodbye. I'll play myself out..."
Pierce uses his New Age Buddhism to deal with his mother's death with one of the five stages, denial. He claims that his mother is going to be vaporized and later, re-injected into a new body so she can get back to making he and Troy sandwiches. Everyone in the group tries to deal with this fact in different ways--Shirley, Annie, and Britta begin by judging Pierce's weird beliefs, while Jeff preaches tolerance (mostly because he doesn't care). Yet when Jeff finds out that he has high cholesterol (from Patton Oswalt, returning as the cleverly named Nurse Jackie), he begins to recognize his own mortality, and in true Jeff fashion, decides its time to crush Pierce's delusions by showing him his mother's corpse on a slab. But of course, Jeff has grown as a person, and instead, after being confronted with a message left by Pierce's mother, Jeff takes Pierce and Troy for ice cream, realizing that life is fleeting, everybody dies, and he might as well enjoy his life. All of this is ground that's bee ncovered before, but that doesn't take away from how well Community handles it. Jeff is exactly the type of person who would heartily avoid admitting his own mortality, and Pierce's ridiculous religious beliefs have been played out before to good effect.
In a subplot that has also been tread before, but was also well handled, Annie and Britta have a confrontation that could only arise between, as Shirley calls them "skinny white bitches." As the two try to get people to donate to clean up after the oil spill, Britta tries to argue people into donating (as one guy puts it, "You don't have to yell at us. Nobody is on the other side of this issue.") and Annie uses her naivety to seduce people into donating. The two fight over their varying methods, and it eventually devolves into an excellent sight gag of the two wrestling in oil. The resolution, which has them both explaining away their flings with Jeff, is a little too pat and seems to be aiming for restoring the status quo in a way that is odd for the series. However, I feel the writers want to dig themselves out of the hole of last year's finale, and I'm ok with it hitting the reset button in this case.
For additional bonus points, John Oliver returned tonight, subbing in for Betty White, who is on paid academic leave after trying to strangle Jeff in the premiere (though she does cameo again in the blip, debating the plot of inception with an African tribe). Oliver may not appear that often, but he makes the most of it when he does, as he spends tonight toying with Chang, using his restraining order to force Chang around. One of this show's strengths is its surprisingly large cast of recurring players, including Oswalt and Oliver, and bringing them back every once in a while enriches the world of Greendale while also providing additional laughs. "The Psychology of Letting Go" succeeds not be breaking barriers or treading on new ground, but by taking well worn themes and making them feel fresh again. And it did it even with an Abed-lite episode (though the observant viewer might have noticed that Abed was off battling death in his own way by helping a pregnant woman around, and even eventually delivering her baby in the back of an SUV, playing with tv tropes even when he wasn't given much to do). All in all, Community knows what its doing ,even when its doing things we've seen before.
Grade: A-
Notes:
-"I'm so glad this tragedy overshadowed Haiti. I didn't have any ideas for that."
-"She's used up her organic body." "...by dying in it."
-"Who's normal Abed?" "Well, Baptists are, but that's beside the point."
-"Also, you're free from the burden of your earthly bosy." "It IS a burden." I love how quickly Troy got on board with Pierce's religion. Another great moment: "What? I want to eat a ghost!"
-"So what is anthropology? Seriously, does anybody know?"
-"Wait, did I accidentally tell you you have AIDS? Because I've done that before..."
-"Alright, let's get going. These paps aren't going to smear themselves."
-"We all have notions that we're the exception, but we're as wrong as we are dead."
-"If a guy wants to make a puppet of me, that's hardly your concern."
"Life ends with death, which we are cursed with knowing. This is called...something. Again, this isn't my field."
-"I think you're being a little childish. Hold on a second, I need to use my forcefield to prevent Chang from getting food."
-"Goodbye. I'll play myself out..."
Labels:
Community,
Jordan,
reviews,
television
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Jordan's Review: Running Wilde, Season 1, Episode 3: Oil and Water
I truly enjoyed the first two episodes of Running Wilde, and I think the show could become very funny and go to some very interesting places (though I admit that my faith arises more from the talent behind it than from the overall strength of the series so far). But "Oil and Water" was an example of pretty much everything I have problems with, and was also not as funny as the last two episodes to boot.
To begin with, as I mentioned last week, Puddle's narration absoltely has to go, or has to be changed dramatically to make it work within the context of a comedy for adults. Its only use, best I can tell, is to erase any semblance of subtlety from the show, explaining even slightly complex jokes just in case the viewer doesn't want to think at all (Think, for example, of when Fa'ad decided to rub himself with ice to keep warm and Puddle told us he war "incorrect," or worse, when Emmy was walking down a hall yelling "Steve! Steve!" and Puddle told us, "my Mom couldn't find Steve anywhere." Really? That's why she is looking around and yelling his name? Because she can't find him? Well thanks for explaining that, Puddle. I would've been lost otherwise). I understand that Mitch Hurwitz is trying to make Running Wilde more mainstream and successful than Arrested Development, but if that comes at the price of the show's intelligence and comedy, is it really worth it not getting cancelled?
Another issue I am finding is the show's repetitiveness. In other words, it seems to repeat itself a lot. Put another way, the show seems to say the same thing over and over again. I understand that its premise involves Steve trying to woo Emmy, even though they are polar opposites who are somehow still attracted to one another. I think this premise is a strong one, but not if every episode is reduced to "Steve tries to impress Emmy, but he fails comedically because he just doesn't understand her." Think about it:Episode One had Steve trying to convince Emmy to stay in all the wrong ways, Episode Two has Steve trying to take Emmy on a vacation in all the wrong ways, and Episode Three has Steve trying to show Emmy he's a conscientious guy in all the wrong ways. This episode tweaks the format slightly by having Steve do the right thing of his own desire while Emmy makes the big mistake, but it plays out pretty much like the last two. If this show doesn't think of more storylines to examine, its going to get very old very fast.
What did work tonight: Fa'ad's ridiculous, locked in the vodka cellar antics. This was cheap, lazy, and has been done many times before, but it was the only part of the episode that made me laugh consistently throughout, and Fa'ad's stupidity is something the show has used in every episode without the diminishing marginal returns of each of the other components I discussed tonight. Many series have a bad episode early in their runs, a sort of stumbling out of the gate as the writers and cast try to figure out what works and what doesn't. There are no two ways about it: This was a bad episode of Running Wilde. I just hope the immense talent behind the show sees that and starts to fix the problem before the show finds itself cancelled, and this time, for good reason.
Grade: C
Notes:
-"I think I know a little girl who should spend a little less time spying on adults and a little more time trying to find a husband."
-"I don't think a vodka cellar is the best place for a sober child."
-"You didn't learn that in history?" "I guess Bob Fosse didn't want to spook me."
-"Oh well. Its not like anybody ever froze to death."
-"i don't know what KFC is, and I generally don't handle my own champagne bucket."
-"What the hell did you do to Paul Schaffer?"
-"This is the example you're showing my daughter? When things get hard you...don't quit?"
-"Cake? Cake is for babies!" "Of course babies like it, because its so good."
-This may be my obsession talking more than actual callbacks, but I liked Andy's reference to the Blue Man Group, and Steve saying he hates high fives, both comments on their Arrested Development characters.
To begin with, as I mentioned last week, Puddle's narration absoltely has to go, or has to be changed dramatically to make it work within the context of a comedy for adults. Its only use, best I can tell, is to erase any semblance of subtlety from the show, explaining even slightly complex jokes just in case the viewer doesn't want to think at all (Think, for example, of when Fa'ad decided to rub himself with ice to keep warm and Puddle told us he war "incorrect," or worse, when Emmy was walking down a hall yelling "Steve! Steve!" and Puddle told us, "my Mom couldn't find Steve anywhere." Really? That's why she is looking around and yelling his name? Because she can't find him? Well thanks for explaining that, Puddle. I would've been lost otherwise). I understand that Mitch Hurwitz is trying to make Running Wilde more mainstream and successful than Arrested Development, but if that comes at the price of the show's intelligence and comedy, is it really worth it not getting cancelled?
Another issue I am finding is the show's repetitiveness. In other words, it seems to repeat itself a lot. Put another way, the show seems to say the same thing over and over again. I understand that its premise involves Steve trying to woo Emmy, even though they are polar opposites who are somehow still attracted to one another. I think this premise is a strong one, but not if every episode is reduced to "Steve tries to impress Emmy, but he fails comedically because he just doesn't understand her." Think about it:Episode One had Steve trying to convince Emmy to stay in all the wrong ways, Episode Two has Steve trying to take Emmy on a vacation in all the wrong ways, and Episode Three has Steve trying to show Emmy he's a conscientious guy in all the wrong ways. This episode tweaks the format slightly by having Steve do the right thing of his own desire while Emmy makes the big mistake, but it plays out pretty much like the last two. If this show doesn't think of more storylines to examine, its going to get very old very fast.
What did work tonight: Fa'ad's ridiculous, locked in the vodka cellar antics. This was cheap, lazy, and has been done many times before, but it was the only part of the episode that made me laugh consistently throughout, and Fa'ad's stupidity is something the show has used in every episode without the diminishing marginal returns of each of the other components I discussed tonight. Many series have a bad episode early in their runs, a sort of stumbling out of the gate as the writers and cast try to figure out what works and what doesn't. There are no two ways about it: This was a bad episode of Running Wilde. I just hope the immense talent behind the show sees that and starts to fix the problem before the show finds itself cancelled, and this time, for good reason.
Grade: C
Notes:
-"I think I know a little girl who should spend a little less time spying on adults and a little more time trying to find a husband."
-"I don't think a vodka cellar is the best place for a sober child."
-"You didn't learn that in history?" "I guess Bob Fosse didn't want to spook me."
-"Oh well. Its not like anybody ever froze to death."
-"i don't know what KFC is, and I generally don't handle my own champagne bucket."
-"What the hell did you do to Paul Schaffer?"
-"This is the example you're showing my daughter? When things get hard you...don't quit?"
-"Cake? Cake is for babies!" "Of course babies like it, because its so good."
-This may be my obsession talking more than actual callbacks, but I liked Andy's reference to the Blue Man Group, and Steve saying he hates high fives, both comments on their Arrested Development characters.
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Monday, October 4, 2010
Jordan's Review: How I Met Your Mother, Season 6, Episode 3: Unfinished
How I Met Your Mother has always been about dodging advancement of its masterplot as much as its been about actually advancing it. And let's be honest, the longer the series goes on, the more obvious those dodges become, which often leads to episodes like last week's, and to rants like the one in my review of the episode. Yet at its best, the show has dodged its master plot by being abotu the process of growing up and becoming the person you will be for the rest of your life. "Unfinished" reminds us of this focus by displaying a part of each of the characters that they have left unfinished, a dream that each has that they have been ignoring in favor of growing up.
Ted's dream has always been to be an architect. Yet after his dispiriting failures striking out on his own in Season Four, Ted has convinced himself that he is happier being a professor. A show like How I MEt Your Mother, with all its blustery romanticism, is never going to be ok with Ted just settling, in his career or otherwise, and so "Unfinished" has Ted realizing that he still wants to be an architect, and agreeing to design the GNB building he was denied back in Season Four. In order for Ted to dig out his desire, Barney has to put the moves on him, which to my mind yields mixed results. Barney is often depicted as the ultimate seductor (having bedded 236 women as of tonight's episode), yet too often when the show digs into his methods, they come off as a bit pedestrian. Put simply, I prefer Barney's tactics to resemble those we saw in "The Playbook" rather than the comparatively obvious moves he pulls on Ted tonight. I expect Barney's moves to be a bit more legendary than anyone else's, but Neil Patrick Harris still sold the bit, and my complaints don't stem from a lack of laughs.
Meanwhile, Robin has taken to drunk dialing Don after finding his show on satellite television, and threatening him in pretty humorous ways. Cobie Smulders has a lot of fun with Robin's creepy intensity in each phone call, but the subplot is dragged down just a bit by the fact that the writers seem to think Lily saying poop a lot is funny. That is a minor complaint, however, and the observation that people tend not to delete numbers from their phone, even if it is very unlikely they will ever call them again is dead on. Marshall refuses to delete the number of the bouncer at the club he played a single gig at four years ago, and Lily keeps the number of the dojo she took a single karate lesson at many years past.
"Unfinished" looks at the past and its effect on the present, as each character is confronted with the person they once dreamed of becoming, and sees that their life has changed in the interim. This is exactly the model for an episode of How I Met Your Mother that avoids the mythology entirely, in that it still focuses on the characters and their growth, and so can still be seen as an extension of Ted's personal growth towards the man he needs to become. I hope that this week's is closer to the norm from here on out than the last episode. This is a show with heart and humor that I can get behind.
Grade: B+
Notes:
-“The Death Star’s gonna get built either way, and don’t you think the architect is pretty psyched to have that on his space resume? Yes, his design was flawed, in the sense that a single bullet fired into a particular vent would explode the whole thing ...”
-"This just in...is what I'm going to say when I'm stabbing you!"
-"For the last time, I don't care how big it is, it is NOT the same as giving birth."
-Marshall's funk band was called The Funk, The Whole Funk, and Nothing But The Funk.
-The blip, with Lily returning to the dojo to engage the now much older kid (who is also now a blackbelt) was pretty funny.
Ted's dream has always been to be an architect. Yet after his dispiriting failures striking out on his own in Season Four, Ted has convinced himself that he is happier being a professor. A show like How I MEt Your Mother, with all its blustery romanticism, is never going to be ok with Ted just settling, in his career or otherwise, and so "Unfinished" has Ted realizing that he still wants to be an architect, and agreeing to design the GNB building he was denied back in Season Four. In order for Ted to dig out his desire, Barney has to put the moves on him, which to my mind yields mixed results. Barney is often depicted as the ultimate seductor (having bedded 236 women as of tonight's episode), yet too often when the show digs into his methods, they come off as a bit pedestrian. Put simply, I prefer Barney's tactics to resemble those we saw in "The Playbook" rather than the comparatively obvious moves he pulls on Ted tonight. I expect Barney's moves to be a bit more legendary than anyone else's, but Neil Patrick Harris still sold the bit, and my complaints don't stem from a lack of laughs.
Meanwhile, Robin has taken to drunk dialing Don after finding his show on satellite television, and threatening him in pretty humorous ways. Cobie Smulders has a lot of fun with Robin's creepy intensity in each phone call, but the subplot is dragged down just a bit by the fact that the writers seem to think Lily saying poop a lot is funny. That is a minor complaint, however, and the observation that people tend not to delete numbers from their phone, even if it is very unlikely they will ever call them again is dead on. Marshall refuses to delete the number of the bouncer at the club he played a single gig at four years ago, and Lily keeps the number of the dojo she took a single karate lesson at many years past.
"Unfinished" looks at the past and its effect on the present, as each character is confronted with the person they once dreamed of becoming, and sees that their life has changed in the interim. This is exactly the model for an episode of How I Met Your Mother that avoids the mythology entirely, in that it still focuses on the characters and their growth, and so can still be seen as an extension of Ted's personal growth towards the man he needs to become. I hope that this week's is closer to the norm from here on out than the last episode. This is a show with heart and humor that I can get behind.
Grade: B+
Notes:
-“The Death Star’s gonna get built either way, and don’t you think the architect is pretty psyched to have that on his space resume? Yes, his design was flawed, in the sense that a single bullet fired into a particular vent would explode the whole thing ...”
-"This just in...is what I'm going to say when I'm stabbing you!"
-"For the last time, I don't care how big it is, it is NOT the same as giving birth."
-Marshall's funk band was called The Funk, The Whole Funk, and Nothing But The Funk.
-The blip, with Lily returning to the dojo to engage the now much older kid (who is also now a blackbelt) was pretty funny.
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Sunday, October 3, 2010
Jordan's Review: Mad Men, Season 4, Episode 11: Chinese Walls
If last week's episode set up the pieces for where the rest of Mad Men's fourth season will take us, "Chinese Walls" started moving them at breakneck speed towards the finish line. It wasn't quite the return to excellence I would have hoped for after last week's somewhat lackluster "Hands and Knees," yet it created a lot of potential areas for the show to explore in the final two episodes.
The episode dealt directly with the fallout from the loss of Lucky Strike, as Cosgrove discovers that the company has left SCDP while at dinner with his inlaws (his father-in-law is played by the always excellent Ray Wise, which I hope means we'll be seeing more of him in the future), and soon all of SCDP is mustered to save the firm and stop the rest of the clients from fleeing. This effort, and its effect on each of the characters, fills the entire episode, but where last week was all surface and not nearly enough depth, this week gives us a better picture of where each of the character's stands at this point.
For starters, Cosgrove is clearly committed to the success of SCDP, marshalling the forces immediately, and then mostly disappearing for the rest of the episode. He hasn't had much to do yet this season, but the brief scene with his in-laws, and his presence when the firm's inner circle meets shows that he does play an important role in the firm. Pete, meanwhile, is waiting for Trudy to give birth (not that he has to stay at the hospital or anything), and his father-in-law is advising him to jump ship in order to ensure that he will provide for his family. In a moment of uncharacteristic loyalty, Pete seems committed to trying to save SCDP too, though let's not forget he is a partner in the firm, and his actions are therefore at least partially selfish. He also does not entirely shut down the idea of opening up another firm with Don's rival from earlier in the season, though he doesn't jump at it like he might have in years past. Pete may not be fully satisfied with his position in SCDP, but he knows he has it pretty good, and he isn't willing to abandon the firm quite yet (though I wouldn't be shocked at all if he is prepared to by the end of the season. This is Pete after all, and if there's anything underhanded he can do, he will probably do it).
Peggy, meanwhile, is having a good time with Abe, that asshole I hoped we'd never see again after a few weeks ago, and believes that, "Every time something good happens, something bad happens. I knew I'd pay for it." Don doesn't let her get despondent though, again calling back to their new level of understanding when he smiles at her and says, "You're not paying for anything. But I'm counting on you." And Peggy delivers, nailing her pitch, and rejecting Stan yet again (though a little more reluctantly this time). Peggy is Don-like in many ways tonight, smoking weed and sleeping with the bohemian Abe much like Don was when we first met him in early Season One. Beyond that, her Playtex pitch bears a more than slight resemblance to Don's legendary Kodak Carousel pitch, even if she does have lipstick on her teeth during it. She may not be the master quite yet, but she is certainly on her way (even if this mastery also leads to her living something of a double life herself, as a successful capitalist by day and a liberal bohemian by night).
Peggy's success, however, does not cover up Roger's glaring failure, a fact that every member of the firm is more than willing to point out to him. As Don coldly acknowledges, Roger's only real job was to keep Lee Garner Jr., and therefore Lucky Strike happy, and he could not even do that. With Roger's professional failure now pretty much complete, his personal life too is in a tailspin as he tries to leverage his failures into another chance with Joan only to be soundly rejected. "I can't do this anymore," Joan repeatedly tells him, and this time, she's serious. The best Roger could muster for her last week, even when she suggested the possibility of keeping their child, was "maybe I love you." Joan clearly loved Roger once, and she probably still does, but she understands now that he will never really love her back, not fully, and she refuses to be pulled back in. Roger has hit a rock bottom of his own, this week, and when Jane tries to comfort him by showing him the first copy of his memoir, Sterling's Gold, its a shockingly thin book, more a tragic reminder of how little he's accomplished than a comfort in the face of his newest failures. The early parts of this season were rife with foreshadowing of a suicide to come, and its been conventional wisdom since Roger's heart attack in Season One that he would not survive throughout the rest of the series. With pretty much nothing left to lose at this point, we may see Roger tragically ending his tragic little life in the near future (Though I hope he sticks around, both because I think he's a fascinating character and because I think Slattery is an excellent actor, who has only become better this season).
Finally, we come to Don, who is the master of building up the "Chinese Walls" of the episode's title and compartmentalizing his life. The title of the episode refers to Faye's observation a few weeks back that her job requires her to build up chinese walls to keep separate her work for separate agencies. Don, in a moment of selfish weakness, asks her to break down her chinese walls and help him save his failing business. Faye initially becomes enraged at his suggestion that she should compromise her career to save his (a fair reaction, in my mind, and one in keeping with her "career first" mentality from back in "The Beautiful Girls"), but by the end of the episode she has done just that, setting up a meeting for him with Heinz, and breaking down one of her walls for him. Faye has lived her life to this point focused on her career instead of her personal life, but Don is making her rethink that. Yet while she is tearing down the walls she has built up, as Don did last week by confessing his dual identity to her, he is building up another wall by engaging in the almost inevitable affair with Megan, his new secretary. Don Draper is a man who shrouds himself in mystery and survives off of the alure that comes from seeming irresistable and unknowable. Perhaps his dalliance is a way of ensuring that Faye, who he has let in so far, does not know everything about him, a way for him to keep at least one chinese wall in what has to be the most successful and honest relationship of his life (not counting his platonic relationships with Anna Draper and Peggy). Or maybe its more simple. Maybe, as my friend Ashley put it, Don falls into the category of "once a cheater, always a cheater." Whether Don's dalliance is more about keeping some mystery in his relationship with Faye or about some kind of childish power play to prove he can still seduce other women, its a low blow to watch Don cheat on Faye. I could comfort myself in seasons past that Don never really loved Betty and married her as a trophy wife, but I have come to see Faye as an excellent, equal partner for Don and I would hate to see him throw that away.
"Chinese Walls" was again heavy on the plot movement, but it did a better job of balancing plot-advancement with the fully realized character details that I have come to expect out of the show. It also gave us a multitude of avenues to head down in the final two weeks of the season. I can't wait to see where we end up.
Grade: B+
Notes:
-"I suppose your visit is premature...I shouldn't use that word around here..."
-"You need to calm down. I was at a ball game when Trudy was born!"
-Don also lost Glo-Coat tonight, proving that the comment week's back that awards don't keep clients was eerily prescient.
-"Stop me at three. This is one." I'm not sure only having three or four drinks a day is the best way to contain your alcoholism...
The episode dealt directly with the fallout from the loss of Lucky Strike, as Cosgrove discovers that the company has left SCDP while at dinner with his inlaws (his father-in-law is played by the always excellent Ray Wise, which I hope means we'll be seeing more of him in the future), and soon all of SCDP is mustered to save the firm and stop the rest of the clients from fleeing. This effort, and its effect on each of the characters, fills the entire episode, but where last week was all surface and not nearly enough depth, this week gives us a better picture of where each of the character's stands at this point.
For starters, Cosgrove is clearly committed to the success of SCDP, marshalling the forces immediately, and then mostly disappearing for the rest of the episode. He hasn't had much to do yet this season, but the brief scene with his in-laws, and his presence when the firm's inner circle meets shows that he does play an important role in the firm. Pete, meanwhile, is waiting for Trudy to give birth (not that he has to stay at the hospital or anything), and his father-in-law is advising him to jump ship in order to ensure that he will provide for his family. In a moment of uncharacteristic loyalty, Pete seems committed to trying to save SCDP too, though let's not forget he is a partner in the firm, and his actions are therefore at least partially selfish. He also does not entirely shut down the idea of opening up another firm with Don's rival from earlier in the season, though he doesn't jump at it like he might have in years past. Pete may not be fully satisfied with his position in SCDP, but he knows he has it pretty good, and he isn't willing to abandon the firm quite yet (though I wouldn't be shocked at all if he is prepared to by the end of the season. This is Pete after all, and if there's anything underhanded he can do, he will probably do it).
Peggy, meanwhile, is having a good time with Abe, that asshole I hoped we'd never see again after a few weeks ago, and believes that, "Every time something good happens, something bad happens. I knew I'd pay for it." Don doesn't let her get despondent though, again calling back to their new level of understanding when he smiles at her and says, "You're not paying for anything. But I'm counting on you." And Peggy delivers, nailing her pitch, and rejecting Stan yet again (though a little more reluctantly this time). Peggy is Don-like in many ways tonight, smoking weed and sleeping with the bohemian Abe much like Don was when we first met him in early Season One. Beyond that, her Playtex pitch bears a more than slight resemblance to Don's legendary Kodak Carousel pitch, even if she does have lipstick on her teeth during it. She may not be the master quite yet, but she is certainly on her way (even if this mastery also leads to her living something of a double life herself, as a successful capitalist by day and a liberal bohemian by night).
Peggy's success, however, does not cover up Roger's glaring failure, a fact that every member of the firm is more than willing to point out to him. As Don coldly acknowledges, Roger's only real job was to keep Lee Garner Jr., and therefore Lucky Strike happy, and he could not even do that. With Roger's professional failure now pretty much complete, his personal life too is in a tailspin as he tries to leverage his failures into another chance with Joan only to be soundly rejected. "I can't do this anymore," Joan repeatedly tells him, and this time, she's serious. The best Roger could muster for her last week, even when she suggested the possibility of keeping their child, was "maybe I love you." Joan clearly loved Roger once, and she probably still does, but she understands now that he will never really love her back, not fully, and she refuses to be pulled back in. Roger has hit a rock bottom of his own, this week, and when Jane tries to comfort him by showing him the first copy of his memoir, Sterling's Gold, its a shockingly thin book, more a tragic reminder of how little he's accomplished than a comfort in the face of his newest failures. The early parts of this season were rife with foreshadowing of a suicide to come, and its been conventional wisdom since Roger's heart attack in Season One that he would not survive throughout the rest of the series. With pretty much nothing left to lose at this point, we may see Roger tragically ending his tragic little life in the near future (Though I hope he sticks around, both because I think he's a fascinating character and because I think Slattery is an excellent actor, who has only become better this season).
Finally, we come to Don, who is the master of building up the "Chinese Walls" of the episode's title and compartmentalizing his life. The title of the episode refers to Faye's observation a few weeks back that her job requires her to build up chinese walls to keep separate her work for separate agencies. Don, in a moment of selfish weakness, asks her to break down her chinese walls and help him save his failing business. Faye initially becomes enraged at his suggestion that she should compromise her career to save his (a fair reaction, in my mind, and one in keeping with her "career first" mentality from back in "The Beautiful Girls"), but by the end of the episode she has done just that, setting up a meeting for him with Heinz, and breaking down one of her walls for him. Faye has lived her life to this point focused on her career instead of her personal life, but Don is making her rethink that. Yet while she is tearing down the walls she has built up, as Don did last week by confessing his dual identity to her, he is building up another wall by engaging in the almost inevitable affair with Megan, his new secretary. Don Draper is a man who shrouds himself in mystery and survives off of the alure that comes from seeming irresistable and unknowable. Perhaps his dalliance is a way of ensuring that Faye, who he has let in so far, does not know everything about him, a way for him to keep at least one chinese wall in what has to be the most successful and honest relationship of his life (not counting his platonic relationships with Anna Draper and Peggy). Or maybe its more simple. Maybe, as my friend Ashley put it, Don falls into the category of "once a cheater, always a cheater." Whether Don's dalliance is more about keeping some mystery in his relationship with Faye or about some kind of childish power play to prove he can still seduce other women, its a low blow to watch Don cheat on Faye. I could comfort myself in seasons past that Don never really loved Betty and married her as a trophy wife, but I have come to see Faye as an excellent, equal partner for Don and I would hate to see him throw that away.
"Chinese Walls" was again heavy on the plot movement, but it did a better job of balancing plot-advancement with the fully realized character details that I have come to expect out of the show. It also gave us a multitude of avenues to head down in the final two weeks of the season. I can't wait to see where we end up.
Grade: B+
Notes:
-"I suppose your visit is premature...I shouldn't use that word around here..."
-"You need to calm down. I was at a ball game when Trudy was born!"
-Don also lost Glo-Coat tonight, proving that the comment week's back that awards don't keep clients was eerily prescient.
-"Stop me at three. This is one." I'm not sure only having three or four drinks a day is the best way to contain your alcoholism...
Jordan's Review: Boardwalk Empire, Season 1, Episode 3: Broadway Limited
Three episodes into the first season of Boardwalk Empire, I have some problems with the show. The biggest problem I have with it so far is not the fault of the show so much as its pedigree: For the level of talent that is beign invested into it, I feel like the show has yet to blow my mind as much as it should. However, because its so early in it's run, I cannot say that the show is not just a slow builder that will grow to mind-blowing proportions by the end of the season. For now, though, it often feels like a lot of artful piece moving, as the plot moves forward, and everything looks pretty, but nothing really means a whole lot yet. This leaves me with not a lot to say about "Broadway Limited" outside of a simple recap of the plot, and so I will apologize in advance if the analysis in this review is sparse. I'll save that up for when the show demands a more careful glance.
To begin with, Jimmy, whose storyline provides the episode's title as he lams it on the eponymous train, is having problems on pretty much every front. Nucky and Eli are still angry at him, he is realizing how little he knows his wife, and by episode's end, Rothstein and Van Alden are both after him, with very different ends in mind. I'm not exactly sure if the show wants us to feel sorry for Jimmy, as his entire life turns to shit in front of us, but its hard to muster much sympathy for the man, partially because of Michael Pitt's disenchanted performance and partially because Jimmy has dug his own grave in every instance that he meets misfortune. I don't blame Pitt for playing Jimmy the way he is, especially as Jimmy has just returned from World War I and is clearly a part of the Lost Generation, but I think that his disenchantment can be played out more cretively than just having him accuse his common-law wife of cheating on him while he was away. Anyone could smell that confrontation coming from a mile away, and the show didn't bring anything particularly original to the scene. The idea of Jimmy heading ot Chicago, where I'm sure Al Capone will pop up again is certainly an interesting one, and I am interested to see where the show takes it, but for tonight, his storyline was pretty much a bust.
Turning to someone I know the show wants us to feel sorry for, I have serious concerns about Margaret's place in Boardwalk Empire. I think getting the point of view of a recently widowed immigrant in the early '20s is a potential story goldmine, but I just couldn't bring myself to care about Margaret working in the french boutique, humiliating for her as it was. This storyline brought the episode to a grinding halt, and I'm not sure how much purpose it served toward advancing any plot, witho ne exception. The scene in which Margaret waits on Lucy, Nucky's showgirl paramour, was a cut above everything else in "Broadway Limited" if only for the fact that it spoke volumes about the positions of both characters, and said it all beneath the surface. Lucy feels threatened by the attention Nucky is giving Margaret, and uses her position of power, and Margaret's humiliation at her naked body to make herslef feel better about it. Lucy loves Nucky, even enough to ruin her figure to give him a child, and she feels she may be losing him to Margaret because, as she coldly puts it, Nucky loves charity cases. Margaret meanwhile is as meek and mild as ever, trying to get by any way she can, and hardly daring to dream that her life can get any better. While I have several problems with the way Margaret has been used so far in the show, that scene gave me hope that both her storyline, and the show in general, will soon rise to higher levels.
On Van Alden's front, we see him be even crazier than ever before tonight as he kidnaps Rothstein's near-dead lackey from the hospital and gets a dentist to shoot him up with cocaine in order to wake him up for long enough to torture information out of him. On the home front, we see more of the awkwardness between Van Alden and his wife, whose relationship is summed up with a quick, comedic little scene: a fade in to a dark, silent dinner table, Van Alden nearly whispering, "The roast tastes good" and a fade out. This was a funny little moment, and the visuals were as deftly handled as they have been throughout the entire series--it also harkened to every other relationship we see tonight, in which those involved do not really know or understand eachother. Jimmy and his baby mama are veritable strangers, Lucy is far from understnading Nucky, and Van Alden and his wife are a million miles apart. All potentially fertile ground I hope the show will dig into later.
Finally, Nucky is in business with Chalky White after having cleared the way for him last week. Nucky tries to sell Chalky on taking 20% of the profits, then gets negotiated up to 35%; by episode's end Chalky is taking in half of his profits, as payment for agreeing to cover up a lynching of one of his men (hung by a car whose chassis reads "Liquor Kills") in order to prevent an eruption of racial tension. Steve Buscemi and Michael Kenneth Williams both play the hell out of their scenes together, with Williams first bursting with confidence in his opening negotiation, and later nearly broken with the senseless tragedy that has befallen his barely 20 year old employee. It must also be said that whenever anything else on Boardwalk Empire is not working, Steve Buscemi's excellent work more than picks up the slack. He is cold when he needs to be, quick and funny when he wants to be, and has a soft and sympathetic center that makes you triumph at his victories and actually care about his defeats.
Most of my problems with Boardwalk Empire as a show are pretty minor, especially for so early in its run. It tends to be a little too expository still, yet it showed some progress this evening, as in the scene between Margaret and Lucy I discussed above. It also seems to lack direction at this point, just sort of sprawling through each hour and filling it up with plotpoints, but not really appearing to move in any given direction or to explore any themes with anything more than a cursory nod in their direction. However, again, there have only been three episodes so far, and I have seen many great shows take their time to reach greatness (even The Wire took about six episodes to move into the territory of legitimate greatness). Finally, I think the show is a bit on the nose a lot of the time, as when Nucky looks out across the lobby of the hotel in the episode's closing shot and sees the mud he's tracked in with him. There are better ways to signify that Nucky has been walking through some muck this week than to actually show his muddy footprints. And while it hasn't found them yet, I still think Boardwalk Empire will get there in the near future.
Grade: B-
Notes:
-Sorry I missed reviewing last week's episode. Sometimes life gets in the way.
-I forgot to mention that Lucky Luciano has the clap, and that its making it hard for him to keep it up. A funny little scene, but I'm not sure it amounted to much.
-I cannot praise this show's ability to set a tone and mood enough. Every shot makes you feel the era, and it does have a very singular, and incredibly sophisticated visual style. If nothing else, this show is gorgeous to watch every week.
-"I didn't know you were so sensitive." "Like a baby's ass, mother fucker." [...] "What does mother fucker mean?" A cursory search reveals that the term was first found in a slang dictionary in 1928, so it likely would have been fairly knew in 1920 when the show takes place. This was one of those "aw, gee. This show take place in the past!" moments, but I thought it was an effective one.
-"He says you should fuck your grandmother with your faggot penis." "Little faggot penis."
-"Maybe Chaplin needs a foil."
To begin with, Jimmy, whose storyline provides the episode's title as he lams it on the eponymous train, is having problems on pretty much every front. Nucky and Eli are still angry at him, he is realizing how little he knows his wife, and by episode's end, Rothstein and Van Alden are both after him, with very different ends in mind. I'm not exactly sure if the show wants us to feel sorry for Jimmy, as his entire life turns to shit in front of us, but its hard to muster much sympathy for the man, partially because of Michael Pitt's disenchanted performance and partially because Jimmy has dug his own grave in every instance that he meets misfortune. I don't blame Pitt for playing Jimmy the way he is, especially as Jimmy has just returned from World War I and is clearly a part of the Lost Generation, but I think that his disenchantment can be played out more cretively than just having him accuse his common-law wife of cheating on him while he was away. Anyone could smell that confrontation coming from a mile away, and the show didn't bring anything particularly original to the scene. The idea of Jimmy heading ot Chicago, where I'm sure Al Capone will pop up again is certainly an interesting one, and I am interested to see where the show takes it, but for tonight, his storyline was pretty much a bust.
Turning to someone I know the show wants us to feel sorry for, I have serious concerns about Margaret's place in Boardwalk Empire. I think getting the point of view of a recently widowed immigrant in the early '20s is a potential story goldmine, but I just couldn't bring myself to care about Margaret working in the french boutique, humiliating for her as it was. This storyline brought the episode to a grinding halt, and I'm not sure how much purpose it served toward advancing any plot, witho ne exception. The scene in which Margaret waits on Lucy, Nucky's showgirl paramour, was a cut above everything else in "Broadway Limited" if only for the fact that it spoke volumes about the positions of both characters, and said it all beneath the surface. Lucy feels threatened by the attention Nucky is giving Margaret, and uses her position of power, and Margaret's humiliation at her naked body to make herslef feel better about it. Lucy loves Nucky, even enough to ruin her figure to give him a child, and she feels she may be losing him to Margaret because, as she coldly puts it, Nucky loves charity cases. Margaret meanwhile is as meek and mild as ever, trying to get by any way she can, and hardly daring to dream that her life can get any better. While I have several problems with the way Margaret has been used so far in the show, that scene gave me hope that both her storyline, and the show in general, will soon rise to higher levels.
On Van Alden's front, we see him be even crazier than ever before tonight as he kidnaps Rothstein's near-dead lackey from the hospital and gets a dentist to shoot him up with cocaine in order to wake him up for long enough to torture information out of him. On the home front, we see more of the awkwardness between Van Alden and his wife, whose relationship is summed up with a quick, comedic little scene: a fade in to a dark, silent dinner table, Van Alden nearly whispering, "The roast tastes good" and a fade out. This was a funny little moment, and the visuals were as deftly handled as they have been throughout the entire series--it also harkened to every other relationship we see tonight, in which those involved do not really know or understand eachother. Jimmy and his baby mama are veritable strangers, Lucy is far from understnading Nucky, and Van Alden and his wife are a million miles apart. All potentially fertile ground I hope the show will dig into later.
Finally, Nucky is in business with Chalky White after having cleared the way for him last week. Nucky tries to sell Chalky on taking 20% of the profits, then gets negotiated up to 35%; by episode's end Chalky is taking in half of his profits, as payment for agreeing to cover up a lynching of one of his men (hung by a car whose chassis reads "Liquor Kills") in order to prevent an eruption of racial tension. Steve Buscemi and Michael Kenneth Williams both play the hell out of their scenes together, with Williams first bursting with confidence in his opening negotiation, and later nearly broken with the senseless tragedy that has befallen his barely 20 year old employee. It must also be said that whenever anything else on Boardwalk Empire is not working, Steve Buscemi's excellent work more than picks up the slack. He is cold when he needs to be, quick and funny when he wants to be, and has a soft and sympathetic center that makes you triumph at his victories and actually care about his defeats.
Most of my problems with Boardwalk Empire as a show are pretty minor, especially for so early in its run. It tends to be a little too expository still, yet it showed some progress this evening, as in the scene between Margaret and Lucy I discussed above. It also seems to lack direction at this point, just sort of sprawling through each hour and filling it up with plotpoints, but not really appearing to move in any given direction or to explore any themes with anything more than a cursory nod in their direction. However, again, there have only been three episodes so far, and I have seen many great shows take their time to reach greatness (even The Wire took about six episodes to move into the territory of legitimate greatness). Finally, I think the show is a bit on the nose a lot of the time, as when Nucky looks out across the lobby of the hotel in the episode's closing shot and sees the mud he's tracked in with him. There are better ways to signify that Nucky has been walking through some muck this week than to actually show his muddy footprints. And while it hasn't found them yet, I still think Boardwalk Empire will get there in the near future.
Grade: B-
Notes:
-Sorry I missed reviewing last week's episode. Sometimes life gets in the way.
-I forgot to mention that Lucky Luciano has the clap, and that its making it hard for him to keep it up. A funny little scene, but I'm not sure it amounted to much.
-I cannot praise this show's ability to set a tone and mood enough. Every shot makes you feel the era, and it does have a very singular, and incredibly sophisticated visual style. If nothing else, this show is gorgeous to watch every week.
-"I didn't know you were so sensitive." "Like a baby's ass, mother fucker." [...] "What does mother fucker mean?" A cursory search reveals that the term was first found in a slang dictionary in 1928, so it likely would have been fairly knew in 1920 when the show takes place. This was one of those "aw, gee. This show take place in the past!" moments, but I thought it was an effective one.
-"He says you should fuck your grandmother with your faggot penis." "Little faggot penis."
-"Maybe Chaplin needs a foil."
Labels:
Boardwalk Empire,
Jordan,
reviews,
television
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