Last night, when I couldn't do anything, due to the fact that I am having some fairly major allergy-related breathing problems, I watched a few more episodes of The Wire. Since several of you seem interested, here are some thoughts (keep in mind that I am watching the second half of the second season:*
1. Ziggy and the duck. That is just sort of horrible and depressing.
2. I am noticing the soundrack more this season than in the first. I especially love the use of the Pogues in that scene where McNulty is doing some drunk driving. Terrific. It might have been in the same episode with Prez listening to Johnny Cash. (For the record, Prez is one of my favorite characters.)
3. Speaking of the Nult: I don't know that I think that the guy (and by "the guy" I mean the actor, but I ALSO mean the character) is that hot, but he consistently has very hot-looking sex. With lots of different women. The show does a good job of choreographing sex in general.
4. Brother Mouzone scares the bejeezus out of me. I find it particularly impressive that he makes his henchmen carry his books for him. THAT is evil genius.
*If'n you are not interested, or don't care about The Wire feel free to skip this posting.
Showing posts with label tv. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tv. Show all posts
05 June 2009
14 May 2009
on my TV watching habits
So, I have FINALLY started watching the second season of The Wire. I know, I know, I am WAAAY behind the curve here. (As in, the curve left me a long time ago.) But I watched the first season more than a year ago and then never picked up momentum on it. It isn't because it isn't a great show. It's amazing. But, as I remembered while watching 2.1 and 2.2 yesterday, it is a program that requires that you actually watch it. You know, that you pay attention.
It may seem as if I watch a lot of TV, but the truth is, I don't watch it very carefully. The same set of circumstances that allows my mom to watch Lifetime movies again and again and not remember that she has already seen them also operates in my world. We are both people who have a hard time dedicating our attention to the talking box in the room. In my mom's case, folding laundry and doing crosswords keep her from getting engrossed. In mine, it is writing emails, and grading papers, and sometimes even reading. (Yes, occasionally I read while watching TV. I'm not suggesting this. It is a messed up habit.) I actually get pretty antsy when I have to devote myself to watching something, which is why I've gotten a lot less patient with live theatre and with seeing movies out.
The result is that I can watch A LOT of pretty crappy and lite (and I do mean "lite" and not "light", grammar police) television. This is why I can watch 2 series of The IT Crowd in a weekend, but can't seem to watch more than a season of The Wire every year and a half. My brother also sometimes blames my viewing habits when I don't like a particular movie (he claims, for example, that I don't like Wet Hot American Summer and The Big Lebowski because I haven't really "seen" either one of them). I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I just don't give something my full attention when I don't feel like it warrants it. Good television--that deserves actual scheduling.
It may seem as if I watch a lot of TV, but the truth is, I don't watch it very carefully. The same set of circumstances that allows my mom to watch Lifetime movies again and again and not remember that she has already seen them also operates in my world. We are both people who have a hard time dedicating our attention to the talking box in the room. In my mom's case, folding laundry and doing crosswords keep her from getting engrossed. In mine, it is writing emails, and grading papers, and sometimes even reading. (Yes, occasionally I read while watching TV. I'm not suggesting this. It is a messed up habit.) I actually get pretty antsy when I have to devote myself to watching something, which is why I've gotten a lot less patient with live theatre and with seeing movies out.
The result is that I can watch A LOT of pretty crappy and lite (and I do mean "lite" and not "light", grammar police) television. This is why I can watch 2 series of The IT Crowd in a weekend, but can't seem to watch more than a season of The Wire every year and a half. My brother also sometimes blames my viewing habits when I don't like a particular movie (he claims, for example, that I don't like Wet Hot American Summer and The Big Lebowski because I haven't really "seen" either one of them). I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe I just don't give something my full attention when I don't feel like it warrants it. Good television--that deserves actual scheduling.
15 March 2009
*Kings* To Watch or not to Watch
I gave two hours tonight to watching the first episode of Kings, the new NBC show loosely based on the biblical story of King David. I mostly did this because I was half hoping that it would feature Ian McShane in a business suit, talking to an unattached head in iambic pentameter. That didn't happen--although there were several speeches with Shakespearean themes (Shakespearean lite) littered throughout the two hour premiere.
This is a strange show. And I don't know yet if I'm interested in it or not. One problem is that part of the premise is that the action takes place in a world that is very, very similar to ours, but that clearly is not ours. This is a form of fiction I don't do well with. I either want my fiction to take place in the "real" world, or I want it to be utterly fantastical. (I prefer the former, in general. But if I'm going fantasy or sci fi, I want the created world to be fairly "otherworldly". This was, by the way, one of the reasons I initially had a lot of trouble with the Pullman His Dark Materials series. Too in-between-y.) Another problem is that, like with a lot of fantasy/sci fi (and I actually would consider this show to fit in that category), Kings might, in fact, prove really cheesy. For example, leaders are "chosen" by a swarm of butterflies that form a crown around the head of the elect. This event is actually shown at the end of the first episode. It is silly. And also pretty heavy handed. These considerations might prove deal breakers, but I can't tell yet.
On the positive side, the show has the potential to create a world somewhat like that in Carnivale, a series that I loved. To me, the strength of that narrative was that, while it felt like an epic showdown between good and evil, individual characters were ultimately too morally ambiguous to wear either black or white hats. If Kings moves in the direction of subtlety and ambiguity, it might actually be very good. I am also intrigued by the fact that there is a gay villain. (Or at least, I think that the character is going to be a villain, and, after the first episode, it is clear that he is gay.) There has been some discussion about this already in the media, and I'm interested to see how this particular character is developed.
Finally, Ian McShane is awesome, and it might just be worthwhile to watch it for his performance. He plays a king, but he is a political leader with real power, and not just a figurehead. There is a moment in the first episode that reminded me of what I loved so much about Al Swearengen. At the end of a meeting with his cabinet, he makes gestures toward dismissing everyone, but before he is done, one of the cabinet members stands up. It is clearly a premature move on the member's part, and he has clearly broken protocol. The king stares at the man. There is a very long silence, and the whole shot depends on the power of McShane's stare to create a kind of dramatic tension. The cabinet member is clearly terrified, and the rest of the room is perfectly still in anticipation. McShane never speaks. And I don't think that I exhaled until after the unfortunate man sat back down again.
So, we'll see. I'll at least watch next week . . .
This is a strange show. And I don't know yet if I'm interested in it or not. One problem is that part of the premise is that the action takes place in a world that is very, very similar to ours, but that clearly is not ours. This is a form of fiction I don't do well with. I either want my fiction to take place in the "real" world, or I want it to be utterly fantastical. (I prefer the former, in general. But if I'm going fantasy or sci fi, I want the created world to be fairly "otherworldly". This was, by the way, one of the reasons I initially had a lot of trouble with the Pullman His Dark Materials series. Too in-between-y.) Another problem is that, like with a lot of fantasy/sci fi (and I actually would consider this show to fit in that category), Kings might, in fact, prove really cheesy. For example, leaders are "chosen" by a swarm of butterflies that form a crown around the head of the elect. This event is actually shown at the end of the first episode. It is silly. And also pretty heavy handed. These considerations might prove deal breakers, but I can't tell yet.
On the positive side, the show has the potential to create a world somewhat like that in Carnivale, a series that I loved. To me, the strength of that narrative was that, while it felt like an epic showdown between good and evil, individual characters were ultimately too morally ambiguous to wear either black or white hats. If Kings moves in the direction of subtlety and ambiguity, it might actually be very good. I am also intrigued by the fact that there is a gay villain. (Or at least, I think that the character is going to be a villain, and, after the first episode, it is clear that he is gay.) There has been some discussion about this already in the media, and I'm interested to see how this particular character is developed.
Finally, Ian McShane is awesome, and it might just be worthwhile to watch it for his performance. He plays a king, but he is a political leader with real power, and not just a figurehead. There is a moment in the first episode that reminded me of what I loved so much about Al Swearengen. At the end of a meeting with his cabinet, he makes gestures toward dismissing everyone, but before he is done, one of the cabinet members stands up. It is clearly a premature move on the member's part, and he has clearly broken protocol. The king stares at the man. There is a very long silence, and the whole shot depends on the power of McShane's stare to create a kind of dramatic tension. The cabinet member is clearly terrified, and the rest of the room is perfectly still in anticipation. McShane never speaks. And I don't think that I exhaled until after the unfortunate man sat back down again.
So, we'll see. I'll at least watch next week . . .
23 February 2009
Piece of Cake
Tonight, while I was making cupcakes to take to class tomorrow morning (for my birthday), I started thinking about something that has been bothering me for a long time, but which I have not spoken about to anyone. See, I watch a lot of Food Network programing. I like watching people cook a lot. I'm not sure why I find it entertaining, but I do. And, for the most part, I find almost anyone entertaining to watch. But there are two groups of people I don't enjoying watching:
1. Emeril. I guess that he is not really a "group" of chefs. But I don't like the guy.
2. (And this is what I really wanted to discuss in this post.) The dilettante cooks. This group includes Ellie Krieger (from Healthy Appetites), Sandra Lee (Semi-Homemade), Ina Garten (The Barefoot Contessa) and--the absolute worst--Giada deLarentiis. There are multiple reasons to dislike all of these women, but the thing that really bothers me, and what all of them have in common, is the super delicate way that they all handle food. All four of them have well-manicured nails (one of the ways you can tell that they are dilettantes) and everything that they do with food, whether it is chopping (which, by definition, is a sort of violent act, right?) to zesting, to stirring, is really gentle and ladylike. Who cooks like that? Seriously? A lot of cooking is sort of vigorous. If you are all concerned about not chipping a nail how can you appropriately mix, grate, mince, knead? Often you need to get in there and work your food. These women don't do that, and that makes all their food suspect. Lesser complaints about these women include: Ellie Kreiger puts lo-fat cheese into everything. That is gross and unnecessary. Sandra Lee 1) uses cans and mixes all the time and 2) ends every show with a themed "tablescape"--which is a word that no one should ever use. My biggest beef with Ina Garten (besides the fact that she is too dainty when she stirs things) is that she has somehow managed to marry a man rich enough to keep her in a nice house and to not have to work so that she can just cook food for all her fabulous gay friends. I am sort of jealous. I want a gay gardener friend, a gay foodie friend, a gay shopping friend, a gay florist friend, just to throw fabulous luncheons for. (I mean, I've got Dr. Awesome, but he doesn't have a whole lot of time for me now that he is busy saving children from disease.) But Giada. Don't even get me started. Who can't boil pasta and make 4-ingredient sauces and salads? There's no talent needed for that. It's ridiculous. I agree with Jeffrey Steingarten that the only reason that she has a cooking show is that she is sort of pretty.
That's it. I feel better now that this is off my chest. But don't take my word for it. See for yourself. It just seems wrong.
(By the way--I made devil's food cupcakes with orange cream cheese frosting, and polenta cupcakes with lime cream cheese frosting. I do not use boxed cake mixes. That's another rant all together.)
1. Emeril. I guess that he is not really a "group" of chefs. But I don't like the guy.
2. (And this is what I really wanted to discuss in this post.) The dilettante cooks. This group includes Ellie Krieger (from Healthy Appetites), Sandra Lee (Semi-Homemade), Ina Garten (The Barefoot Contessa) and--the absolute worst--Giada deLarentiis. There are multiple reasons to dislike all of these women, but the thing that really bothers me, and what all of them have in common, is the super delicate way that they all handle food. All four of them have well-manicured nails (one of the ways you can tell that they are dilettantes) and everything that they do with food, whether it is chopping (which, by definition, is a sort of violent act, right?) to zesting, to stirring, is really gentle and ladylike. Who cooks like that? Seriously? A lot of cooking is sort of vigorous. If you are all concerned about not chipping a nail how can you appropriately mix, grate, mince, knead? Often you need to get in there and work your food. These women don't do that, and that makes all their food suspect. Lesser complaints about these women include: Ellie Kreiger puts lo-fat cheese into everything. That is gross and unnecessary. Sandra Lee 1) uses cans and mixes all the time and 2) ends every show with a themed "tablescape"--which is a word that no one should ever use. My biggest beef with Ina Garten (besides the fact that she is too dainty when she stirs things) is that she has somehow managed to marry a man rich enough to keep her in a nice house and to not have to work so that she can just cook food for all her fabulous gay friends. I am sort of jealous. I want a gay gardener friend, a gay foodie friend, a gay shopping friend, a gay florist friend, just to throw fabulous luncheons for. (I mean, I've got Dr. Awesome, but he doesn't have a whole lot of time for me now that he is busy saving children from disease.) But Giada. Don't even get me started. Who can't boil pasta and make 4-ingredient sauces and salads? There's no talent needed for that. It's ridiculous. I agree with Jeffrey Steingarten that the only reason that she has a cooking show is that she is sort of pretty.
That's it. I feel better now that this is off my chest. But don't take my word for it. See for yourself. It just seems wrong.
(By the way--I made devil's food cupcakes with orange cream cheese frosting, and polenta cupcakes with lime cream cheese frosting. I do not use boxed cake mixes. That's another rant all together.)
18 February 2009
Stuff I Dig
Everything is very doomy and gloomy recently, ain't it? Strangely, I've been in a remarkably upbeat mood. This might be because times like this are sort of good for contrarians like myself. Today I feel like spreading the love. Here are five things that I really like a lot.
One: Craft root beer. I am not a big soda drinker. And I grew up on diet sodas (literally--my mom drank Tab when I was very little, Pepsi Lite when I was in elementary school and the weirdly addicting Diet Coke since). So I just generally do not drink regular sugared sodas. HOWEVER. I make a special occasion exception for craft root beer. Henry's, on tap, is my favorite (although I know it is a little too sweet and too smooth--if in fact root beer can be too smooth!--for some). But I also like Mt. Angel. Those monks make some very tasty root beer. I do not, however, love craft root beer as much as this dude.
Two: Pilot G-2 Extra Fine Gel Pens. It isn't so much that these are my favorite pens ever (far from it), but they are ideal for grading. They come in a variety of colors beyond black, blue and red (none of which I like to use to grade with). I particularly like the purple and burgundy ones because I find them easy to read against the black and white. They are nice and fine, but don't clump. I think I went through about 5 of them last term alone. (And if any of you feel like bitchin' about how little I blog, think about all the writing I'm doing on student papers.)
Three: North. Since I have now been there the last 4 weekends (or so) in a row, I think I can call this "my new bar." North is unpretentious and small and neighborhood-y. You can put music on the jukebox for free, and they have Kenny Rogers. There is also a lot of Bruce Springsteen. The clientele is somewhat eclectic. Mikey J. likes to sit at the bar. This is ok by me. The one drawback is this older guy we've seen a couple of times who drinks wine and tries to listen in on our conversations and smirks at everything I say. I could do without that dude. However, last week I told Mike that I was ready to rumble with the guy if he gives me any more attitude. Mike said, "You are not prepared to rumble with that old guy." I said "seriously, I'm ready to take him down." Then Mike told me that this might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever said.
Four: Iced Lattes from Peet's. Here's the thing: I know that Peet's is a chain and all, but I had just given up ordering lattes anywhere. Everywhere I went it seemed like I was getting coffee-flavored milk. When actually what I wanted was coffee with a lot of milk in it. (See the important distinction?) Peet's lattes taste like milky coffee. That is delicious, and just what I want sometimes (when I'm not in the mood for an Americano or cafe au lait, which are much more my "everyday" coffee drinks). Peet's used to really be marvy because they kept soy milk (for my Americanos) out with the cream, but they have ceased to do that, so I'm back to having to ask for it at the bar. I don't like that as much. It makes me feel high maintenance to have to ask.
Note: I do realize that 3 of the 5 things so far have to do with beverages. I like beverages. I think--and do not freak out about this--that I would rather stop eating solid food than stop drinking fluids.
Five: Chelsea Handler. OK. I realize that she is actually a person that I like, and not so much a thing. I resisted for a long time. But I think she's really funny. I can't help it. And--this is weird--she and I are exactly the same age. Check this out: Drew Barrymore was born on February 22nd, 1975. I was born the next day. Chelsea Handler was born on the 25th. I find this totally bizarre. CH clearly seems older than me. They dress her real old and adult-like on that show, and she dates the president of E!, who is sort of old. Drew Barrymore--I don't know. I guess she seems older too. But it is hard to say when you are talking about someone who is crazy and went through rehab at 13. I was just barely getting through Drama I my freshman year of high school. (Ask Qwanty. She will confirm that I spent a lot of time in the "little theatre" staring off into space and crying.) My point is this, don't compare yourself to famous people who were born the same week you were. It starts to make you feel sort of weird and bad, but also glad that you are NOT famous and so, thus, no one cares if you wear your kitty jama bottoms and beat up Chucks to the grocery store at night.
Oh wait. Except that was not my point. My point was, Chelsea Handler is funny.
And my larger point is this: you may not have a job past March 18th, and you may have a condo in Austin that just refuses to sell, and you may be turning the UNGODLY age of 34 in less than a week, and the American economy may be a disaster, but you can still take pleasure in the small stuff.
One: Craft root beer. I am not a big soda drinker. And I grew up on diet sodas (literally--my mom drank Tab when I was very little, Pepsi Lite when I was in elementary school and the weirdly addicting Diet Coke since). So I just generally do not drink regular sugared sodas. HOWEVER. I make a special occasion exception for craft root beer. Henry's, on tap, is my favorite (although I know it is a little too sweet and too smooth--if in fact root beer can be too smooth!--for some). But I also like Mt. Angel. Those monks make some very tasty root beer. I do not, however, love craft root beer as much as this dude.
Two: Pilot G-2 Extra Fine Gel Pens. It isn't so much that these are my favorite pens ever (far from it), but they are ideal for grading. They come in a variety of colors beyond black, blue and red (none of which I like to use to grade with). I particularly like the purple and burgundy ones because I find them easy to read against the black and white. They are nice and fine, but don't clump. I think I went through about 5 of them last term alone. (And if any of you feel like bitchin' about how little I blog, think about all the writing I'm doing on student papers.)
Three: North. Since I have now been there the last 4 weekends (or so) in a row, I think I can call this "my new bar." North is unpretentious and small and neighborhood-y. You can put music on the jukebox for free, and they have Kenny Rogers. There is also a lot of Bruce Springsteen. The clientele is somewhat eclectic. Mikey J. likes to sit at the bar. This is ok by me. The one drawback is this older guy we've seen a couple of times who drinks wine and tries to listen in on our conversations and smirks at everything I say. I could do without that dude. However, last week I told Mike that I was ready to rumble with the guy if he gives me any more attitude. Mike said, "You are not prepared to rumble with that old guy." I said "seriously, I'm ready to take him down." Then Mike told me that this might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever said.
Four: Iced Lattes from Peet's. Here's the thing: I know that Peet's is a chain and all, but I had just given up ordering lattes anywhere. Everywhere I went it seemed like I was getting coffee-flavored milk. When actually what I wanted was coffee with a lot of milk in it. (See the important distinction?) Peet's lattes taste like milky coffee. That is delicious, and just what I want sometimes (when I'm not in the mood for an Americano or cafe au lait, which are much more my "everyday" coffee drinks). Peet's used to really be marvy because they kept soy milk (for my Americanos) out with the cream, but they have ceased to do that, so I'm back to having to ask for it at the bar. I don't like that as much. It makes me feel high maintenance to have to ask.
Note: I do realize that 3 of the 5 things so far have to do with beverages. I like beverages. I think--and do not freak out about this--that I would rather stop eating solid food than stop drinking fluids.
Five: Chelsea Handler. OK. I realize that she is actually a person that I like, and not so much a thing. I resisted for a long time. But I think she's really funny. I can't help it. And--this is weird--she and I are exactly the same age. Check this out: Drew Barrymore was born on February 22nd, 1975. I was born the next day. Chelsea Handler was born on the 25th. I find this totally bizarre. CH clearly seems older than me. They dress her real old and adult-like on that show, and she dates the president of E!, who is sort of old. Drew Barrymore--I don't know. I guess she seems older too. But it is hard to say when you are talking about someone who is crazy and went through rehab at 13. I was just barely getting through Drama I my freshman year of high school. (Ask Qwanty. She will confirm that I spent a lot of time in the "little theatre" staring off into space and crying.) My point is this, don't compare yourself to famous people who were born the same week you were. It starts to make you feel sort of weird and bad, but also glad that you are NOT famous and so, thus, no one cares if you wear your kitty jama bottoms and beat up Chucks to the grocery store at night.
Oh wait. Except that was not my point. My point was, Chelsea Handler is funny.
And my larger point is this: you may not have a job past March 18th, and you may have a condo in Austin that just refuses to sell, and you may be turning the UNGODLY age of 34 in less than a week, and the American economy may be a disaster, but you can still take pleasure in the small stuff.
25 November 2008
AND---
I almost forgot. The best thing about the whole Twilight craze, of course, was last week's South Park episode. If you haven't yet seen it, do yourself a favor and sniff it out.
Per se.
Per se.
18 November 2008
Diagnose This
Before I begin, let me extend an apology to those of you who don't watch House. You are not going to be interested in this post at all.
If you are still reading, I beg you to explain to me what is going on with this show. Because I am sincerely and completely baffled. I just don't understand it anymore.
Listen, I was a huge fan of House before the first episode even aired. I have been a Hugh Laurie fan since about 1993, when I saw him in the relatively horrible AIDS flick Peter's Friends (he was my favorite friend of Peter). I read his book The Gun Seller (a book I believe he only wrote to keep up with friend and comedy partner Stephen Fry, who turned his hand to fiction first). I even admit to occasionally popping Stewart Little into the DVD player to get a little Hugh-Laurie-in-bowtie action. (Actually, I've been trying to convince Ella that she really likes that movie so that I don't feel so creepy about watching it. But she isn't playing along.) SOOOO when I saw the previews for House--interesting premise, great supporting cast, dead-on American accent, and amazingly consistent limp--I knew it was a show I would enjoy. And I have enjoyed it, pretty regularly, for 5 seasons now. Although the show is ultimately formulaic, the relationships between the characters and the clever last-minute saves have kept me and interested and avid viewer.
I was somewhat concerned at the end of the 3rd season when the concluding episode left House without any of the original members of his team, and, for all intents and purposes, without a love interest. But, being a television viewer well versed in hour-long drama conventions, I assumed one of two things would happen at the beginning of the 4th season: either House would find some way to regroup the team (or at least a part thereof), or all three actors (Jennifer Morrison, Omar Epps, Jesse Spencer) would leave the show. After all, these seemed like the only conventional and, therefore, plausible resolutions. Well, mea culpa, people. I lived through the Bobby-Ewing-in-the-shower-it-was-all-a-dream Dallas season 10 opener, so I should have known that these television writers are sometimes a dodgy lot.
When it became clear that, in addition to a huge group of potential new team members, Chase, Cameron, and Foreman would continue to be written into scripts, I assume that the arrangement would be a temporary one (a la MI-5 cast member departures, which have generally occurred mid-season). And here we are, 8 episodes into the 2nd season after the dissolution of the original team, and CCF continue to appear.
Herein lies my first source of confusion. Although Omar Epps's character plays a fairly well-exposed role as the assistant leader of House's new diagnostic team, he has not been given much of a story line, or much character development, in the last 2 seasons. With the weird exception of last week's episode, Jennifer Morrison and Jesse Spencer have only been given a few minutes of screen time (often together) an episode.
WHY? First of all, why would these actors continue on with the show in such diminished capacities? Only two reasons come immediately to mind. 1) Money. 2) The promise of new developments for their characters over time. I hate believing that any of these actors would stay solely for the money (since their new roles on the show amount to a demotion), let alone all of them staying solely for monetary reasons. On the other hand, I hate waiting for the other plot shoe to drop. Are they going to leave? OR is something very dramatic going to happen to make them central once again? Do I continue to keep Cameron (a character of whom I have always been fond) at a distance, believing that she will eventually REALLY leave the show? Do I invest any more effort in disliking Chase and wanting him to return down under, if he is just going on marry Cameron and take her off to another teaching hospital? There is too much tension--too many expectations--for me to be comfortable in my relationships with these characters. I just can't see where this is all going, and that makes me nervous.
Then there is House's relationship with Cuddy. Although I joked with Laura all of last season about how badly LC wanted to get with Greg, now that it is sort of happening, I feel a little icky about it. It feels slightly incestuous, not to mention inappropriate, given their professional relationship. And, of course, I am gun shy about any sparring partners getting together on a television show after the whole recent season 5 Moonlighting debacle.
Further, and this is probably the most complicated thing of all, the potential relationship has made me realize how much I dislike House, which is making it harder and harder for me to watch the show. Because the fact is, I like Cuddy. And I maybe even relate to her a little. (Not the successful and hot parts, but some of the other.) And I have realized that I fundamentally am worried for her emotional safety in a relationship with House. And THAT has made me realize that I don't have a lot of faith that he is a decent guy underneath it all. There are several things that have eroded that faith: his dealings with Wilson this season, his lack of any meaningful connection with his new team, his on-going quest to humiliate Cameron (especially since I am now convinced that he is no longer doing it because he has complicated feelings about her). But the biggest problem is USA. That's right. House marathons are to blame. When I only see him once a week, and have summers off, it is really easy for me to romanticize House. To think that he is just too smart for his own good, or a man with demons, or a rough exterior with a soft inner core. When I watch episodes on end though, I am confronted by the stark reality of Gregory House: he's an asshole all the time. And there is rarely any evidence that there is anything going on inside of him. And when that evidence does present itself, it is usually immediately undone.
It's too much unpleasantness. As much as I like the idea of him, the reality of him (and I realize the sad irony of using the word "reality" to describe a fictional character I am taking WAY too seriously), is too much for me. And I can't see my way to thinking that it would be a good thing for Lisa Cuddy.
So where does this leave me? I've become, increasingly, aware of a deep conflict. I am a House fan who can hardly bring myself to watch the show any longer. I'll watch it tonight, but through the cracks between my fingers, which will be over my eyes.
Tell me I'm wrong, fellow House fans. Give me a reason to believe again.
If you are still reading, I beg you to explain to me what is going on with this show. Because I am sincerely and completely baffled. I just don't understand it anymore.
Listen, I was a huge fan of House before the first episode even aired. I have been a Hugh Laurie fan since about 1993, when I saw him in the relatively horrible AIDS flick Peter's Friends (he was my favorite friend of Peter). I read his book The Gun Seller (a book I believe he only wrote to keep up with friend and comedy partner Stephen Fry, who turned his hand to fiction first). I even admit to occasionally popping Stewart Little into the DVD player to get a little Hugh-Laurie-in-bowtie action. (Actually, I've been trying to convince Ella that she really likes that movie so that I don't feel so creepy about watching it. But she isn't playing along.) SOOOO when I saw the previews for House--interesting premise, great supporting cast, dead-on American accent, and amazingly consistent limp--I knew it was a show I would enjoy. And I have enjoyed it, pretty regularly, for 5 seasons now. Although the show is ultimately formulaic, the relationships between the characters and the clever last-minute saves have kept me and interested and avid viewer.
I was somewhat concerned at the end of the 3rd season when the concluding episode left House without any of the original members of his team, and, for all intents and purposes, without a love interest. But, being a television viewer well versed in hour-long drama conventions, I assumed one of two things would happen at the beginning of the 4th season: either House would find some way to regroup the team (or at least a part thereof), or all three actors (Jennifer Morrison, Omar Epps, Jesse Spencer) would leave the show. After all, these seemed like the only conventional and, therefore, plausible resolutions. Well, mea culpa, people. I lived through the Bobby-Ewing-in-the-shower-it-was-all-a-dream Dallas season 10 opener, so I should have known that these television writers are sometimes a dodgy lot.
When it became clear that, in addition to a huge group of potential new team members, Chase, Cameron, and Foreman would continue to be written into scripts, I assume that the arrangement would be a temporary one (a la MI-5 cast member departures, which have generally occurred mid-season). And here we are, 8 episodes into the 2nd season after the dissolution of the original team, and CCF continue to appear.
Herein lies my first source of confusion. Although Omar Epps's character plays a fairly well-exposed role as the assistant leader of House's new diagnostic team, he has not been given much of a story line, or much character development, in the last 2 seasons. With the weird exception of last week's episode, Jennifer Morrison and Jesse Spencer have only been given a few minutes of screen time (often together) an episode.
WHY? First of all, why would these actors continue on with the show in such diminished capacities? Only two reasons come immediately to mind. 1) Money. 2) The promise of new developments for their characters over time. I hate believing that any of these actors would stay solely for the money (since their new roles on the show amount to a demotion), let alone all of them staying solely for monetary reasons. On the other hand, I hate waiting for the other plot shoe to drop. Are they going to leave? OR is something very dramatic going to happen to make them central once again? Do I continue to keep Cameron (a character of whom I have always been fond) at a distance, believing that she will eventually REALLY leave the show? Do I invest any more effort in disliking Chase and wanting him to return down under, if he is just going on marry Cameron and take her off to another teaching hospital? There is too much tension--too many expectations--for me to be comfortable in my relationships with these characters. I just can't see where this is all going, and that makes me nervous.
Then there is House's relationship with Cuddy. Although I joked with Laura all of last season about how badly LC wanted to get with Greg, now that it is sort of happening, I feel a little icky about it. It feels slightly incestuous, not to mention inappropriate, given their professional relationship. And, of course, I am gun shy about any sparring partners getting together on a television show after the whole recent season 5 Moonlighting debacle.
Further, and this is probably the most complicated thing of all, the potential relationship has made me realize how much I dislike House, which is making it harder and harder for me to watch the show. Because the fact is, I like Cuddy. And I maybe even relate to her a little. (Not the successful and hot parts, but some of the other.) And I have realized that I fundamentally am worried for her emotional safety in a relationship with House. And THAT has made me realize that I don't have a lot of faith that he is a decent guy underneath it all. There are several things that have eroded that faith: his dealings with Wilson this season, his lack of any meaningful connection with his new team, his on-going quest to humiliate Cameron (especially since I am now convinced that he is no longer doing it because he has complicated feelings about her). But the biggest problem is USA. That's right. House marathons are to blame. When I only see him once a week, and have summers off, it is really easy for me to romanticize House. To think that he is just too smart for his own good, or a man with demons, or a rough exterior with a soft inner core. When I watch episodes on end though, I am confronted by the stark reality of Gregory House: he's an asshole all the time. And there is rarely any evidence that there is anything going on inside of him. And when that evidence does present itself, it is usually immediately undone.
It's too much unpleasantness. As much as I like the idea of him, the reality of him (and I realize the sad irony of using the word "reality" to describe a fictional character I am taking WAY too seriously), is too much for me. And I can't see my way to thinking that it would be a good thing for Lisa Cuddy.
So where does this leave me? I've become, increasingly, aware of a deep conflict. I am a House fan who can hardly bring myself to watch the show any longer. I'll watch it tonight, but through the cracks between my fingers, which will be over my eyes.
Tell me I'm wrong, fellow House fans. Give me a reason to believe again.
13 August 2008
Bottom of the Barrel
Sadly, my current status as unemployed, housebound loser presents me with a paradox. On the one hand, I have almost unlimited time to blog. On the other, I am having virtually no experiences, and therefore have nothing to blog about. I mean, do any of you really want to hear about the five episodes of Intervention (a show that I find totally reprehensible, yet can't get enough of) I watched on Monday? Or about my short shopping trip to New Seasons with Miss E last night that led to the purchase of many potatoes and two loaves of bread? I thought not. It is, all things considered, a sad state of affairs.
Yet some of you (no names) believe that I should be writing anyway--
So I'll say a little something about J-bro's recent challenge to me to watch A & E's inexplicable The Two Coreys. If you don't know about this show, a short introduction: it is a half hour "reality" (I mean the quotation marks here) show in which Corey Feldman (of Lost Boys, License to Drive and Dream a Little Dream fame) and Corey Haim (of Lost Boys, License to Drive and Dream a Little Dream fame) perform their on-again-off-again-but-mostly-off-again best friend routine while Feldman's wife fans the flames and poses nude for Playboy. There is also something about the Corey's making Lost Boys III--a terrible idea--and couple's therapy (for Corey and Corey).
I have watched this show. More specifically, I have watched about 5 episodes of the current season. I have seen no episodes from the first season. I have only done this at the request of J-bro, whose taste I usually respect.
It's not even that this show is terrible (and it is). The larger problem is that I just don't understand it. Not at all. There is so much more unknown than known, that every time I watch it I end up more confused than I was before. I'm pretty sure that isn't how it is supposed to work. I'm just going to provide a list of some of the vexing questions raised by this show:
1. The format: Why is the show only a half hour long when A & E just runs 2 episodes back-to-back every week to make what is, essentially, an hour long show?
2. The believability factor: How does A & E expect audiences to continue to ride the roller coaster when one Corey or the other is constantly saying, "This is it. The end of my friendship with Corey. We're done. I'm done." (Both Coreys say this 2-3 times an episode--each.)
3. The therapist: Part One) Where did they find a therapist who would agree to conduct therapy sessions (individual, couple, family) on camera. Part Two) Why does this woman appear to still have a license to practice?
4. The drugs: Apparently Haim is on drugs. That makes sense given his behavior (unless he is actually acting. I don't put it past him.), and his puffy appearance and the fact that Feldman thought that he needed an intervention. But what drugs? And where is he getting them? And why is there no drug taking on film?
5. The mysterious brown liquid with ice cubes: Haim is constantly (and I do mean CONSTANTLY) drinking some mysterious brown liquid out of large plastic cups. It happens so often that it is distracting. To make matters worse, his assistant Nelle now also drinks the mysterious brown liquid. Out of slightly smaller cups.
6. The missing child: Um. Feldman and wife Susie have a kid (his name is--I looked this up on IMDB--Zen) but he is never seen on camera. Nor is there any indication that there is a child on the set. Nor do I think I have ever heard either Feldman or Susie mention their offspring. Apparently this child is 4. The only reason I even know anything about him is that J-bro mentioned him. That's messed up.
7. Art: Who told Haim that he could paint? Because he can't. What he does seem to do is buy a lot of painting equipment which he throws around a lot when he is upset. And sometimes paint does land on some canvases, but I'm pretty sure that it isn't painting. And then there is usually some cigarette smoking after the throwing around of the paint paraphernalia. Haim does the smoking, not KRD.
8. Hair: Am I supposed to want to see Susie Feldman straight-ironing her hair at least once an episode? If so, why?
These questions just begin to scratch the surface. This show is confusing. Worst of all, I have no idea why I'm supposed to care about these guys. I didn't like them when we were kids--Lucas notwithstanding, and let's be honest, I only like that flick because of Charlie-on-top-of-the-dryer-with-no-shirt-on-Sheen.
I'm sure that J-bro will be able to clear some of this up for us. I look forward to that. In the meantime I wish to add:
Listen, I bet that most of us secretly cared more about Cory Matthews than whiny Kevin Arnold. At least Cory had the stones to really have a relationship with Topanga. And we all know that Topanga was waaaay cuter than Winnie. She even had better hair (and that's no small feat). The only reason I ever really watched that show was in hopes that Karen (the fantabulous Olivia d'Abo) would show and have a meaty part.
Yet some of you (no names) believe that I should be writing anyway--
So I'll say a little something about J-bro's recent challenge to me to watch A & E's inexplicable The Two Coreys. If you don't know about this show, a short introduction: it is a half hour "reality" (I mean the quotation marks here) show in which Corey Feldman (of Lost Boys, License to Drive and Dream a Little Dream fame) and Corey Haim (of Lost Boys, License to Drive and Dream a Little Dream fame) perform their on-again-off-again-but-mostly-off-again best friend routine while Feldman's wife fans the flames and poses nude for Playboy. There is also something about the Corey's making Lost Boys III--a terrible idea--and couple's therapy (for Corey and Corey).
I have watched this show. More specifically, I have watched about 5 episodes of the current season. I have seen no episodes from the first season. I have only done this at the request of J-bro, whose taste I usually respect.
It's not even that this show is terrible (and it is). The larger problem is that I just don't understand it. Not at all. There is so much more unknown than known, that every time I watch it I end up more confused than I was before. I'm pretty sure that isn't how it is supposed to work. I'm just going to provide a list of some of the vexing questions raised by this show:
1. The format: Why is the show only a half hour long when A & E just runs 2 episodes back-to-back every week to make what is, essentially, an hour long show?
2. The believability factor: How does A & E expect audiences to continue to ride the roller coaster when one Corey or the other is constantly saying, "This is it. The end of my friendship with Corey. We're done. I'm done." (Both Coreys say this 2-3 times an episode--each.)
3. The therapist: Part One) Where did they find a therapist who would agree to conduct therapy sessions (individual, couple, family) on camera. Part Two) Why does this woman appear to still have a license to practice?
4. The drugs: Apparently Haim is on drugs. That makes sense given his behavior (unless he is actually acting. I don't put it past him.), and his puffy appearance and the fact that Feldman thought that he needed an intervention. But what drugs? And where is he getting them? And why is there no drug taking on film?
5. The mysterious brown liquid with ice cubes: Haim is constantly (and I do mean CONSTANTLY) drinking some mysterious brown liquid out of large plastic cups. It happens so often that it is distracting. To make matters worse, his assistant Nelle now also drinks the mysterious brown liquid. Out of slightly smaller cups.
6. The missing child: Um. Feldman and wife Susie have a kid (his name is--I looked this up on IMDB--Zen) but he is never seen on camera. Nor is there any indication that there is a child on the set. Nor do I think I have ever heard either Feldman or Susie mention their offspring. Apparently this child is 4. The only reason I even know anything about him is that J-bro mentioned him. That's messed up.
7. Art: Who told Haim that he could paint? Because he can't. What he does seem to do is buy a lot of painting equipment which he throws around a lot when he is upset. And sometimes paint does land on some canvases, but I'm pretty sure that it isn't painting. And then there is usually some cigarette smoking after the throwing around of the paint paraphernalia. Haim does the smoking, not KRD.
8. Hair: Am I supposed to want to see Susie Feldman straight-ironing her hair at least once an episode? If so, why?
These questions just begin to scratch the surface. This show is confusing. Worst of all, I have no idea why I'm supposed to care about these guys. I didn't like them when we were kids--Lucas notwithstanding, and let's be honest, I only like that flick because of Charlie-on-top-of-the-dryer-with-no-shirt-on-Sheen.
I'm sure that J-bro will be able to clear some of this up for us. I look forward to that. In the meantime I wish to add:
Listen, I bet that most of us secretly cared more about Cory Matthews than whiny Kevin Arnold. At least Cory had the stones to really have a relationship with Topanga. And we all know that Topanga was waaaay cuter than Winnie. She even had better hair (and that's no small feat). The only reason I ever really watched that show was in hopes that Karen (the fantabulous Olivia d'Abo) would show and have a meaty part.
07 August 2008
Lest you think I have just been sitting around pouting about the fact that I am a bad writer, let me tell you about the TV I watched yesterday.
1. The whole current season of Project Runway thusfar. Hey, you know what, that Suede guy needs to stop referring to himself in the third person. Seriously. I also have to admit that Blayne is growing on me. I mean, he's ridiculous and I hate all of his designs, but the guy does sort of make me laugh. And I get a kick out of his interactions with Tim.
2. Two episodes of Shear Genius. That show is AWFUL. But I saw the Charlie's Angels challenge, and I thought that Kate Jackson looked amazing. She has always been my favorite Angel. (And I've mentioned before my fondness of Mrs. King, as well.) I think maybe Bruce also likes her . . .
3. Half of Agnes of God. OK. I have a couple of questions suggested by this film. A) Why is it that certain films become late-night cable staples? I'm thinking of A of G, but also True Believer (a film that I cannot ever pass up if I come across it), A Few Good Men, An Officer and a Gentleman, The Accused. I've seen each of these films at least 5 times each. At least. But why do these films make good late-night fodder? I don't get it. B) What the hell is A of G about. In spite of the fact that I've seen it a number of times, I don't know what it is about at all. I just don't get it. I think I continue to watch it because I'm always sure that I've never finished it, and thus never got to the heart of the film. But last night I realized that I just don't understand it. C) Why do I like that scene between Anne Bancroft and Jane Fonda in the gazebo so much? I think that this scene is the other reason I can't not watch the film. D) Am I crazy to think that, if I could look like anyone in the world, I might choose Jane Fonda? The thing that is awesome about Jane Fonda is that she is very, very pretty, but in a perfectly normal kind of way. I mean, she could be just some woman that you could see in the grocery store or something. That appeals to me.
4) Three episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter. I suppose I should be wicked ashamed of how much I love the Dog. But I've decided to embrace it. Also, I have a big crush on Duane Lee, his least-badass looking son.
That's about it. If it seems like this is a lot of TV for one girl to watch in one day, you are right. But I stayed up very late in order to accomplish it, and I was doing lots of other stuff while the TV was on--so it wasn't quite the waste of time it could have been . . .
1. The whole current season of Project Runway thusfar. Hey, you know what, that Suede guy needs to stop referring to himself in the third person. Seriously. I also have to admit that Blayne is growing on me. I mean, he's ridiculous and I hate all of his designs, but the guy does sort of make me laugh. And I get a kick out of his interactions with Tim.
2. Two episodes of Shear Genius. That show is AWFUL. But I saw the Charlie's Angels challenge, and I thought that Kate Jackson looked amazing. She has always been my favorite Angel. (And I've mentioned before my fondness of Mrs. King, as well.) I think maybe Bruce also likes her . . .
3. Half of Agnes of God. OK. I have a couple of questions suggested by this film. A) Why is it that certain films become late-night cable staples? I'm thinking of A of G, but also True Believer (a film that I cannot ever pass up if I come across it), A Few Good Men, An Officer and a Gentleman, The Accused. I've seen each of these films at least 5 times each. At least. But why do these films make good late-night fodder? I don't get it. B) What the hell is A of G about. In spite of the fact that I've seen it a number of times, I don't know what it is about at all. I just don't get it. I think I continue to watch it because I'm always sure that I've never finished it, and thus never got to the heart of the film. But last night I realized that I just don't understand it. C) Why do I like that scene between Anne Bancroft and Jane Fonda in the gazebo so much? I think that this scene is the other reason I can't not watch the film. D) Am I crazy to think that, if I could look like anyone in the world, I might choose Jane Fonda? The thing that is awesome about Jane Fonda is that she is very, very pretty, but in a perfectly normal kind of way. I mean, she could be just some woman that you could see in the grocery store or something. That appeals to me.
4) Three episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter. I suppose I should be wicked ashamed of how much I love the Dog. But I've decided to embrace it. Also, I have a big crush on Duane Lee, his least-badass looking son.
That's about it. If it seems like this is a lot of TV for one girl to watch in one day, you are right. But I stayed up very late in order to accomplish it, and I was doing lots of other stuff while the TV was on--so it wasn't quite the waste of time it could have been . . .
06 August 2008
Series Finales, Revisited
The comments* on my recent post about Moonlighting have made me think that the subject of series finales is something that deserves a little more discussion. Thank you, in particular to OMD and J-Bro for their thoughtful lists.
Here is where we stand. Everyone seems to agree that Six Feet Under wins the prize for the best ending. This is interesting (and I guess that this COULD be a spoiler if you haven't seen the whole series), given the fact that so much of what happened in the final season of the show is actually amazingly irritating. Maybe the writers tried to piss us off so that our expectations were relatively low for the end. I don't know. I'm glad to hear that we are all on the same page about this.
As to the other suggestions:
The Office (UK): I haven't seen the end of the series. But I do wonder about this--I'm not a "fan" of either version of this show, but I've watched a lot of both. Why the weird animosity amongst fans of either show? I mean, they share a general concept, but little else. I think that they both have perfectly enjoyable aspects. I don't see how liking one is mutually exclusive of liking the other. (This said, I would probably HATE it if they tried to make an "American" version of MI-5--although how do you DO that? or of Hustle.) I will finish the series and let you know what I think.
90210: I watched a lot of that g--damn show, but I DIDN'T watch until the end. It just got seriously painful. What even happened in the end? As for SBTB--are you talking about the end of the show proper, J-Bro? Or the end of The College Years? And, seriously, how long is it going to take TV writers to figure out that shows always suck when they follow characters from high school to college?
Buffy/Angel: Not a fan. Although I've seen more total episodes of Angel and I find it, in general, easier to watch.
The West Wing: Again, not a fan. I have a personal bias against this show. I defer to OMD and J-Bro.
Kids in the Hall: Good call, J-Bro, but Roswell? Seriously?
I thought about mentioning the Cheers finale in my original post. But I'm not sure if it was actually good/satisfying. It was the most "important" (whatever that means) finale of our young lives. In my own home, it was likened to the series finale of MASH, which was an almost sacred event. (At least, that is the way that I remember it.)
I thought about The Wonder Years too, but the truth is, I was mightily irritated by the end of that show. Predictably, they tried to wrap things up a little too cleanly. That didn't work for me. Of course, Kevin Arnold (both the kid and the narrative voice) never really worked for me either.
The Arrested Development finale was good, in the sense that it was consistent with the show generally.
Alright. Now, Carnivale. I don't know if I have dealt with my complicated feelings about his show in the blog before. I don't think that I've written about it. And if I did, it was in the old blog. So, here goes: I don't think that it counts in this discussion. In order to be considered as having a "good" series finale (and maybe what we should be talking about here is what criteria for evaluation of the category of "series finale"), I think that the "finale" has to be self-conscious. That is to say, the writers need to know that they are writing the end to a series. My understanding is that this was not the case for Carnivale--that the creators, cast, crew, all thought that they might be making a third season. I believe that I even heard or read somewhere that they knew which character they were going to focus on in the third season. (And I also remember thinking that I surely would have hated the direction in which they meant to take the show.) The open-endedness of the finale, which, OMD, if I am reading you correctly, is part of the reason that you thought it worked, was actually a product of the fact that no one knew that it was the end of the series. Since it was unintentional, I don't think that it can be praised as a satisfying series finale. (This, of course, is sort of a different conversation than whether, given the material conditions under which this series was produced, it "works" as a completed piece of art. It may very well--despite the intentions of its creators/producers.)
By the time Freaks and Geeks ended, did they know they weren't coming back? I liked the end of that show, as well. But I can't remember if it was an intentional finale or not.
One last thought. FSK, I understand your hesitation to get involved with shows, knowing that you may fall in love with them and then be disappointed when they end. But our relationship with TV on DVD isn't that different, at least with regard to this point, as with our relationships writ large in the world. And don't we all (or at least don't you and I?) do too much focusing on the inevitability of the decay of relationships already? Isn't this what keeps us tentative, even self-defeating, about the possibility of meeting new people and incorporating them into our lives? Maybe the lesson here is MORE TV. Maybe the relationship building that happens as we watch, and having to go through the difficult and painful (and lest any of you bitches laugh at me, think back to the end of SFU and tell me that THAT wasn't painful) separation with those shows at the end of the series, and the fact that we then go on to love another show, that all of this actually helps prepare us for real relationships in the world. When the Deadwood film comes out, I may very well avoid seeing it, or reading anything about it, for a long time. But eventually I will see it. And it will not be as painful as I think that it will be. It will not remind me of what I do not have, anymore, but rather of what Deadwood has added to my life.
Book series, by the way, serve this same function. It was very hard to convince myself to read the last Lemony Snicket book, but when I look back, I can't say that I'm not better off for having A Series of Unfortunate Events in my life. Or Gormenghast, TLOTR, Ramona, Kristin Lavransdatter, etcetera.
*With the exclusion of smart ass comments from Qwanty and Marcus about my misspelling of the word "thumb". Thanks, guys.
Here is where we stand. Everyone seems to agree that Six Feet Under wins the prize for the best ending. This is interesting (and I guess that this COULD be a spoiler if you haven't seen the whole series), given the fact that so much of what happened in the final season of the show is actually amazingly irritating. Maybe the writers tried to piss us off so that our expectations were relatively low for the end. I don't know. I'm glad to hear that we are all on the same page about this.
As to the other suggestions:
The Office (UK): I haven't seen the end of the series. But I do wonder about this--I'm not a "fan" of either version of this show, but I've watched a lot of both. Why the weird animosity amongst fans of either show? I mean, they share a general concept, but little else. I think that they both have perfectly enjoyable aspects. I don't see how liking one is mutually exclusive of liking the other. (This said, I would probably HATE it if they tried to make an "American" version of MI-5--although how do you DO that? or of Hustle.) I will finish the series and let you know what I think.
90210: I watched a lot of that g--damn show, but I DIDN'T watch until the end. It just got seriously painful. What even happened in the end? As for SBTB--are you talking about the end of the show proper, J-Bro? Or the end of The College Years? And, seriously, how long is it going to take TV writers to figure out that shows always suck when they follow characters from high school to college?
Buffy/Angel: Not a fan. Although I've seen more total episodes of Angel and I find it, in general, easier to watch.
The West Wing: Again, not a fan. I have a personal bias against this show. I defer to OMD and J-Bro.
Kids in the Hall: Good call, J-Bro, but Roswell? Seriously?
I thought about mentioning the Cheers finale in my original post. But I'm not sure if it was actually good/satisfying. It was the most "important" (whatever that means) finale of our young lives. In my own home, it was likened to the series finale of MASH, which was an almost sacred event. (At least, that is the way that I remember it.)
I thought about The Wonder Years too, but the truth is, I was mightily irritated by the end of that show. Predictably, they tried to wrap things up a little too cleanly. That didn't work for me. Of course, Kevin Arnold (both the kid and the narrative voice) never really worked for me either.
The Arrested Development finale was good, in the sense that it was consistent with the show generally.
Alright. Now, Carnivale. I don't know if I have dealt with my complicated feelings about his show in the blog before. I don't think that I've written about it. And if I did, it was in the old blog. So, here goes: I don't think that it counts in this discussion. In order to be considered as having a "good" series finale (and maybe what we should be talking about here is what criteria for evaluation of the category of "series finale"), I think that the "finale" has to be self-conscious. That is to say, the writers need to know that they are writing the end to a series. My understanding is that this was not the case for Carnivale--that the creators, cast, crew, all thought that they might be making a third season. I believe that I even heard or read somewhere that they knew which character they were going to focus on in the third season. (And I also remember thinking that I surely would have hated the direction in which they meant to take the show.) The open-endedness of the finale, which, OMD, if I am reading you correctly, is part of the reason that you thought it worked, was actually a product of the fact that no one knew that it was the end of the series. Since it was unintentional, I don't think that it can be praised as a satisfying series finale. (This, of course, is sort of a different conversation than whether, given the material conditions under which this series was produced, it "works" as a completed piece of art. It may very well--despite the intentions of its creators/producers.)
By the time Freaks and Geeks ended, did they know they weren't coming back? I liked the end of that show, as well. But I can't remember if it was an intentional finale or not.
One last thought. FSK, I understand your hesitation to get involved with shows, knowing that you may fall in love with them and then be disappointed when they end. But our relationship with TV on DVD isn't that different, at least with regard to this point, as with our relationships writ large in the world. And don't we all (or at least don't you and I?) do too much focusing on the inevitability of the decay of relationships already? Isn't this what keeps us tentative, even self-defeating, about the possibility of meeting new people and incorporating them into our lives? Maybe the lesson here is MORE TV. Maybe the relationship building that happens as we watch, and having to go through the difficult and painful (and lest any of you bitches laugh at me, think back to the end of SFU and tell me that THAT wasn't painful) separation with those shows at the end of the series, and the fact that we then go on to love another show, that all of this actually helps prepare us for real relationships in the world. When the Deadwood film comes out, I may very well avoid seeing it, or reading anything about it, for a long time. But eventually I will see it. And it will not be as painful as I think that it will be. It will not remind me of what I do not have, anymore, but rather of what Deadwood has added to my life.
Book series, by the way, serve this same function. It was very hard to convince myself to read the last Lemony Snicket book, but when I look back, I can't say that I'm not better off for having A Series of Unfortunate Events in my life. Or Gormenghast, TLOTR, Ramona, Kristin Lavransdatter, etcetera.
*With the exclusion of smart ass comments from Qwanty and Marcus about my misspelling of the word "thumb". Thanks, guys.
23 July 2008
Not For J-Bro
because she is a hater of the Moonlighting. And this post is mostly about Moonlighting. Fair warning.
So last night, I went to the home of the Lady Rebecca, bottle of white wine and Moonlighting season 5 in hand. We have been trying to get through this final season since my birthday in February, but it is so awful that we've had a hard time. (The season begins with an episode devoted to Maddie's fetus--played by Bruce Willis--who she miscarries right after we find out that the baby is, indeed, Maddie and David's. Bruce Willis sucks his thump and bounces on a trampoline a lot in this episode. It is painful and upsetting.)
In order to finish, we had to get through the last 4 episodes. Well, really just 3, since one of them was a Burt/Agnes episode, and we just fast forwarded through it. Anyway, this was a poorly conceived idea on our parts. 1) We drank the whole bottle of wine, and we'd both been drinking earlier in the evening too. 2) We had no business intertwining the end of Moonlighting and my approaching departure from Austin. Frankly, both of those things are bleak enough as it is without piling one on top of the other.
The final episode is especially upsetting, because 10 minutes before the end, the show goes into the meta-television mode that it had done so well in the early seasons. It discusses the cancellation of the show, and the fans' disappointment with the way that the romance between David and Maddie devolved in the last 2 seasons. Then there is a clip montage, which serves only to remind us of how much we did, indeed, love watching these two fall in love, and how truly horrendous it was to watch the show unravel. In other words, the final episode pours salt into the psychic wounds left by the show, and doesn't provide ANY closure at all. Thanks for that, crappy Moonlighting writers.
Rebecca turned off the television and asked me if there were really ever any good series finales. We were hard pressed to think of one, save the end of Six Feet Under. (And that WAS so good that we both got a little teary-eyed just talking about Claire driving away and looking in her rear-view mirror. True story. When I finally saw the last episode I cried so hard that I made myself throw up.) Rebecca also liked the last episode of Sex and the City. I have no opinion about this, as I have never seen a full episode of that damn show. (Now that I think about it, I sort of liked the end of Deadwood too, although I was pissed that 1) it was ending at all and 2) that they killed off my most favorite character.)
***
In other news about my entertainment consumption--I have now watched the first 4 episodes of the first season of Hill Street Blues. Get ready for it, people, I have plenty to say about that. But I want to watch a little more first.
***
And I rented the Joy Division documentary. It's so good that I went out and immediately also got the biopic Control. You don't have to watch both. But you should watch one--preferably the documentary--unless you really like Samantha Morton. I don't dislike Samantha Morton, but I can't see her and not remember her in Minority Report and that just makes me think about the Dickmen (about whom I think I wrote about on the myspace blog, yes?) and that is just NO GOOD.
What I learned by watching the doc is that I love Peter Hook, and he looks like Alan Rickman. They could be brothers, actually. And although I would love to be a Joy Division fan, because it seems cool somehow, I frankly prefer the pop sensibility of New Order, and I probably always will.
Let's face it. I'm pretty mainstream.
So last night, I went to the home of the Lady Rebecca, bottle of white wine and Moonlighting season 5 in hand. We have been trying to get through this final season since my birthday in February, but it is so awful that we've had a hard time. (The season begins with an episode devoted to Maddie's fetus--played by Bruce Willis--who she miscarries right after we find out that the baby is, indeed, Maddie and David's. Bruce Willis sucks his thump and bounces on a trampoline a lot in this episode. It is painful and upsetting.)
In order to finish, we had to get through the last 4 episodes. Well, really just 3, since one of them was a Burt/Agnes episode, and we just fast forwarded through it. Anyway, this was a poorly conceived idea on our parts. 1) We drank the whole bottle of wine, and we'd both been drinking earlier in the evening too. 2) We had no business intertwining the end of Moonlighting and my approaching departure from Austin. Frankly, both of those things are bleak enough as it is without piling one on top of the other.
The final episode is especially upsetting, because 10 minutes before the end, the show goes into the meta-television mode that it had done so well in the early seasons. It discusses the cancellation of the show, and the fans' disappointment with the way that the romance between David and Maddie devolved in the last 2 seasons. Then there is a clip montage, which serves only to remind us of how much we did, indeed, love watching these two fall in love, and how truly horrendous it was to watch the show unravel. In other words, the final episode pours salt into the psychic wounds left by the show, and doesn't provide ANY closure at all. Thanks for that, crappy Moonlighting writers.
Rebecca turned off the television and asked me if there were really ever any good series finales. We were hard pressed to think of one, save the end of Six Feet Under. (And that WAS so good that we both got a little teary-eyed just talking about Claire driving away and looking in her rear-view mirror. True story. When I finally saw the last episode I cried so hard that I made myself throw up.) Rebecca also liked the last episode of Sex and the City. I have no opinion about this, as I have never seen a full episode of that damn show. (Now that I think about it, I sort of liked the end of Deadwood too, although I was pissed that 1) it was ending at all and 2) that they killed off my most favorite character.)
***
In other news about my entertainment consumption--I have now watched the first 4 episodes of the first season of Hill Street Blues. Get ready for it, people, I have plenty to say about that. But I want to watch a little more first.
***
And I rented the Joy Division documentary. It's so good that I went out and immediately also got the biopic Control. You don't have to watch both. But you should watch one--preferably the documentary--unless you really like Samantha Morton. I don't dislike Samantha Morton, but I can't see her and not remember her in Minority Report and that just makes me think about the Dickmen (about whom I think I wrote about on the myspace blog, yes?) and that is just NO GOOD.
What I learned by watching the doc is that I love Peter Hook, and he looks like Alan Rickman. They could be brothers, actually. And although I would love to be a Joy Division fan, because it seems cool somehow, I frankly prefer the pop sensibility of New Order, and I probably always will.
Let's face it. I'm pretty mainstream.
29 May 2008
Sad, Sad News
I honestly hate being the bearer of bad news, although maybe you all will have heard this by the time you read this. On the way home tonight (during a break from what was a very illuminating Love Line), I heard the news that Harvey Korman has died.
I have to admit that I've never been a big Blazing Saddles fan (to quote my brother Ryan/Jimmy, "I get it, I just don't think it's funny"). But I loved, loved, loved Korman on the Carol Burnett Show--which used to rerun on Saturday or Sunday nights when I was a kid. I have a fondness for comedians who can't stay in character (this explains my weird thing for Jimmy Fallon too), particularly when they are being cracked up by someone they share the stage with who is even funnier than they are. It's totally unprofessional, I know. But it was always clear to me that Tim Conway just really, really cracked Harvey Korman up. And that is very sweet. It always made Korman seem like a good guy--that he didn't begrudge Conway the greater share of the laughter.
And I know that you know what I'm talking about. If you are Jimmy Fallon it is impossible to be professional. No amount of rehearsal can prepare you-- it doesn't matter how many times you've heard that freakshow Christopher Walken say, "I gotta have more cow bell" or how many times you've seen Will Ferrell jump up and down, beating on the cowbell, exposing his hairy belly, you can't freaking keep yourself from laughing. Every subsequent time I see that skit, the thing that always really gets me going is watching Fallon in the background.
Nothing is a testament to a comedian's talent like the laughter of other comedians, and nothing is a testament to a man like his deep appreciation of that which is funny. There is something beautiful and generous about that kind of relationship between funny people. And this is what I loved about watching Tim Conway and Harvey Korman together.
I have to admit that I've never been a big Blazing Saddles fan (to quote my brother Ryan/Jimmy, "I get it, I just don't think it's funny"). But I loved, loved, loved Korman on the Carol Burnett Show--which used to rerun on Saturday or Sunday nights when I was a kid. I have a fondness for comedians who can't stay in character (this explains my weird thing for Jimmy Fallon too), particularly when they are being cracked up by someone they share the stage with who is even funnier than they are. It's totally unprofessional, I know. But it was always clear to me that Tim Conway just really, really cracked Harvey Korman up. And that is very sweet. It always made Korman seem like a good guy--that he didn't begrudge Conway the greater share of the laughter.
And I know that you know what I'm talking about. If you are Jimmy Fallon it is impossible to be professional. No amount of rehearsal can prepare you-- it doesn't matter how many times you've heard that freakshow Christopher Walken say, "I gotta have more cow bell" or how many times you've seen Will Ferrell jump up and down, beating on the cowbell, exposing his hairy belly, you can't freaking keep yourself from laughing. Every subsequent time I see that skit, the thing that always really gets me going is watching Fallon in the background.
Nothing is a testament to a comedian's talent like the laughter of other comedians, and nothing is a testament to a man like his deep appreciation of that which is funny. There is something beautiful and generous about that kind of relationship between funny people. And this is what I loved about watching Tim Conway and Harvey Korman together.
21 February 2008
5 Ways I've Been Spending 2008, So Far
You are going to think that this is just an excuse, and maybe it is, but I have been experiencing writer's block due to my anxiety over MY OWN influence. Seriously. You might also think that this assertion is crazy, but I have had it in my mind that the story about the guy eating a hunk of cheese is actually the best story of all time, and that nothing so interesting will ever happen to me again in my life.
Also, I'm trying to write a dissertation.
But I have decided to push my deep fears to the side, and contribute yet again to the world of digital solipsism, because, you know, the world needs my 2 cents like it needs a hole in the head.
So here goes. This is what I have been up to for the past 7 weeks or so.
1) Worrying about when my sister-in-law is actually going to give birth to baby what's-his-name. His due date was February 29th, which would suck for the little tiger since it would mean that he'd only have his fourth birthday on the year of his sweet sixteen. (It's like being a person in dog years.) But signs have been good for the past week that the little guy isn't going to wait that long. SO at first it was a matter of being worried that he would be born on the birthday of someone whose birthday I would rather forget. That sucked. But the cusp came and went and NOW, I am worried that he's going to be a perverse little thing (much like his father) and show up on my special day. I know that I am going to be 33 this year, and that I should be mature enough to share this day with others. But I'm not. So--anytime now little Jesus/Beauxcecil/Indiana/Cid/Merle/Hank/Trucker. We're waiting.
2) Having my mind blown by Crispin Glover. I had to go alone to see Crispin Glover, since I didn't think that it was fair to force anyone to go see a movie about a man with cp having sex with women (one underage and two with disabilities of their own) and then killing them. But I have to say, the experience was one of the most intense I've ever had in an "art" context. His film (It's Fine. Everything is Fine) did exactly what he meant for it to do. It made me feel horribly uncomfortable, and then it made me have to struggle with why it made me feel that way, and what that says about my prejudices, and my aesthetics. I honestly felt convicted by the film, which rarely (almost never?) happens to me when I'm looking at/experiencing art of any kind. So, that blew my mind.
But then there was the celebrity part of the experience. J-Bro best summed this up for me when she said that it was like sitting in a theatre, and a spaceship lands, and Crispin Glover walks out and talks to you for 3 hours and then he gets BACK in the spaceship and takes off, only to return to Earth for his next performance. I would add to that by saying that you should really think about what it is like to see a spaceship land and to see an alien walk out of it who CLEARLY is an alien, but turns out to speak English, and to say really pretty smart things, and who seems to be just a hell of a nice guy. EVEN WEIRDER. What I realized when I saw him is that I have been thinking, all these years that I have been interested in him and in his work, that somehow he doesn't really live in my world. I know that George Clooney and the Dalai Lama and Brit Hume (I don't know, this is a random list--you know what I mean) and even Chuck--yes, even Chuck Klosterman--are just dudes walking around in the same world that I am walking around in. They may have more interesting lives, and know more important people, and do things that will have great effect on the world than I, but they are still just dudes. But I think that I never really thought that Cripsin Glover was a real dude. It's like finding out that there actually IS an Incredible Hulk. Or Batman.
This is all, of course, just another way of saying what J said.
3. Driving between Little City and Flightpath. I mention this because I spend a lot of time driving to and fro and then hanging out at these two places. Sometimes I get a lot of work done, and sometimes I don't. I drink a double Americano at Little City, preferably with soy milk. Sometimes I eat a bagel there too, but I always end up regretting it, because I really want a bagel from Flightpath. With olive cream cheese. And I try to keep myself to only one bagel a day. I drink triple iced espressos at Flightpath. And then, sometimes, beer. I need the decisions about what I am going to order to be automatic, since I spend so much time deciding which coffeeshop I'm going to go to, and when, and for how long I am going to stay. This is where higher ed has ultimately led me. It's no good, people.
4. Becoming a groupie. But only for this guy. http://www.myspace.com/raisedbypandas. Listen to the song "Where the World Stands Still" (Jen refers to this as "the Superman song") and tell me that this guy can't write a great song.
5. Watching The Tudors. OK Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I am soooo onto you. You are NOT actually a good actor. You distract us with your ridiculously defined arm muscles. AND you choose parts in which we may mistake your overacting for a reasonable interpretation of a particular character. (No one can deny this. I direct your attention to the characters Bryan Slade in Velvet Goldmine, Steerpike in Gormenghast, and Henry VIII in the aforementioned Tudors as representative examples.) In particular I suggest watching the scene in which Anne Boleyn and Hank finally get it on. (You know, after she survives the plague and all). JRM/Henry has a complete hissy fit--in his ridiculous royal undies--when Anne doesn't let him, well, complete, the act. (Note: I was describing this scene to Dr. Awesome the other day and could hardly get through it due to my hysterical laughter. This is probably the funniest scene that has ever aired on Showtime.)
Also, I'm trying to write a dissertation.
But I have decided to push my deep fears to the side, and contribute yet again to the world of digital solipsism, because, you know, the world needs my 2 cents like it needs a hole in the head.
So here goes. This is what I have been up to for the past 7 weeks or so.
1) Worrying about when my sister-in-law is actually going to give birth to baby what's-his-name. His due date was February 29th, which would suck for the little tiger since it would mean that he'd only have his fourth birthday on the year of his sweet sixteen. (It's like being a person in dog years.) But signs have been good for the past week that the little guy isn't going to wait that long. SO at first it was a matter of being worried that he would be born on the birthday of someone whose birthday I would rather forget. That sucked. But the cusp came and went and NOW, I am worried that he's going to be a perverse little thing (much like his father) and show up on my special day. I know that I am going to be 33 this year, and that I should be mature enough to share this day with others. But I'm not. So--anytime now little Jesus/Beauxcecil/Indiana/Cid/Merle/Hank/Trucker. We're waiting.
2) Having my mind blown by Crispin Glover. I had to go alone to see Crispin Glover, since I didn't think that it was fair to force anyone to go see a movie about a man with cp having sex with women (one underage and two with disabilities of their own) and then killing them. But I have to say, the experience was one of the most intense I've ever had in an "art" context. His film (It's Fine. Everything is Fine) did exactly what he meant for it to do. It made me feel horribly uncomfortable, and then it made me have to struggle with why it made me feel that way, and what that says about my prejudices, and my aesthetics. I honestly felt convicted by the film, which rarely (almost never?) happens to me when I'm looking at/experiencing art of any kind. So, that blew my mind.
But then there was the celebrity part of the experience. J-Bro best summed this up for me when she said that it was like sitting in a theatre, and a spaceship lands, and Crispin Glover walks out and talks to you for 3 hours and then he gets BACK in the spaceship and takes off, only to return to Earth for his next performance. I would add to that by saying that you should really think about what it is like to see a spaceship land and to see an alien walk out of it who CLEARLY is an alien, but turns out to speak English, and to say really pretty smart things, and who seems to be just a hell of a nice guy. EVEN WEIRDER. What I realized when I saw him is that I have been thinking, all these years that I have been interested in him and in his work, that somehow he doesn't really live in my world. I know that George Clooney and the Dalai Lama and Brit Hume (I don't know, this is a random list--you know what I mean) and even Chuck--yes, even Chuck Klosterman--are just dudes walking around in the same world that I am walking around in. They may have more interesting lives, and know more important people, and do things that will have great effect on the world than I, but they are still just dudes. But I think that I never really thought that Cripsin Glover was a real dude. It's like finding out that there actually IS an Incredible Hulk. Or Batman.
This is all, of course, just another way of saying what J said.
3. Driving between Little City and Flightpath. I mention this because I spend a lot of time driving to and fro and then hanging out at these two places. Sometimes I get a lot of work done, and sometimes I don't. I drink a double Americano at Little City, preferably with soy milk. Sometimes I eat a bagel there too, but I always end up regretting it, because I really want a bagel from Flightpath. With olive cream cheese. And I try to keep myself to only one bagel a day. I drink triple iced espressos at Flightpath. And then, sometimes, beer. I need the decisions about what I am going to order to be automatic, since I spend so much time deciding which coffeeshop I'm going to go to, and when, and for how long I am going to stay. This is where higher ed has ultimately led me. It's no good, people.
4. Becoming a groupie. But only for this guy. http://www.myspace.com/raisedbypandas. Listen to the song "Where the World Stands Still" (Jen refers to this as "the Superman song") and tell me that this guy can't write a great song.
5. Watching The Tudors. OK Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I am soooo onto you. You are NOT actually a good actor. You distract us with your ridiculously defined arm muscles. AND you choose parts in which we may mistake your overacting for a reasonable interpretation of a particular character. (No one can deny this. I direct your attention to the characters Bryan Slade in Velvet Goldmine, Steerpike in Gormenghast, and Henry VIII in the aforementioned Tudors as representative examples.) In particular I suggest watching the scene in which Anne Boleyn and Hank finally get it on. (You know, after she survives the plague and all). JRM/Henry has a complete hissy fit--in his ridiculous royal undies--when Anne doesn't let him, well, complete, the act. (Note: I was describing this scene to Dr. Awesome the other day and could hardly get through it due to my hysterical laughter. This is probably the funniest scene that has ever aired on Showtime.)
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)