Discuss...

Downton Abbey: Season 4 

(Ep. 403)

MAJOR SPOILERS 

Last week I criticized the extraneous week-in-week-out flow of guests at the Abbey, as well as the sexually flat relationship between hyper-empathetic Anna and the needlessly noble Mr. Bates, only to find myself justified/HORRIFIED this week at what Julian Fellowes had in store for the useless/happy couple. Seems he planned all along to take the series' one (legitimately arch) goodhearted soul and have her savagely raped (!!!) by one of those extraneous rotating Downton guests! Yep, it's time for a Maggie Smith glare gallery...

To be fair, I could sense something deeply sinister afoot. What at first appeared to be the usual fast and forced establishing of a new love triangle in the servant's quarters sees Anna and a new guest servant laughing together and playing a raucous game of cards. No one on this series has EVER laughed that hard, or had any sort of emotional reaction at a volume level of anything over a three. At Downton this kind of cheery disposition read as a notably jarring, unnerving moment. Naturally it was undercut seconds later by Mr. Bates scolding his wife for enjoying herself publically. The servants stop upstairs to see this week's musical guest, and Anna feels a headache, saying it's -- wait for it --  likely because of all the laughing earlier! Anna retires downstairs again to find her light flirtation with the guest servant immediately translate into brutal sexual violence. And by the episode's end of course, Anna being Anna, she decides to keep her suffering a secret, so as to save her dear Mr. Bates from possible prison time, and to ensure he can do something deeply noble in several weeks time.

It was a despicably gross moment on its own but I'm sure Fellowes would assure you it was tastefully done, mostly relegated to implication. But when a show had me thrown off by simple LAUGHTER, he should expect fans to be thrown by the sight of smiling Anna being slapped and cowering with blood clotted in her hair. There's something remarkably off in the tone here, not to mention the way the entire subplot seems to be entirely devised to give (regressive) seasonal motivation for Mr. Bates than to offer any kind of greater theme or resolution for Anna. This show's stooped to some pretty lame extremes before (Edith's childhood friend and Matthew's car accident the most glaring) but this might be the most egregious yet.

The closest comparison I have for a show like this is The L Word, which I watched to the bitter (bitter) end, laughing at and wincing with each questionably offensive detour and miscalculation. It's just that The L Word never started on a high point like Downton and never had the stuffy-period-Awards-clout to mask its soapy wheel-spinning. Maggie, we need you again...

American Horror Story: Coven 

(Premiere)

Not much to say about this premiere specifically, other than that I'm hoping for more Asylum, less Murder House. More "Name Game," less "Ghost Christmas", y'know what I mean? All I really care about is THAT CAST!!! Jessica Lange, Kathy Bates (bringing back major Misery vibes), Angela Bassett, Frances Conroy (getting a livelier role this time), and Asylum highlights Sarah Paulson and Lily Rabe. This premiere isn't exactly spellbinding, it's a lot of setup, but it is visually captivating (the credits this season are the series' best) and promises lots of the trademark batshittery and bloodshed in weeks to come. It handles the camp and chaotic storytelling infinitely better than True Blood, and I can't wait to see that Louisiana scenery chewed up and spit out by Lange and her legion of kickass ladies.

"Come on, Mary Todd Lincoln. I'll buy you a drink."

It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia: Season 9 

(Ep: "The Gang Saves the Day")

Maybe hit-or-miss once in a while, this series has sustained surprisingly well into its ninth season, even finding charming ways to survive those dreaded later season "what if"-episodes. Sort of Seinfeld-meets-South Park, this latest episode surrounding a convenience store robbery was one such showcase of just how wonderful and underrated this ensemble is, using small performance ticks to make even the most minor bits reveal the best (which is usually the worst) of their characters.  If I had to pick my favorite I'm going with Sweet Dee (Kaitlin Olsen) and one of my personal TV-crushes, Charlie (Charlie Day), whose Up fantasy sequence in this episode was charming, teary-eyed, and oh so... Charlie. I'd marry him at full price and then we'd buy beautiful babies together.

Discuss...

Breaking Bad: Season 5

Like that famed "Heisenberg Blue," it's the best stuff on the streets at the moment, whenever the right cook's in the kitchen. I don't have much to say on this series finale other than it was "pretty good," which is where I'd place the series as a whole. For every ace plot construct and callback, or Walt's multi-layered leap into the amoral abyss, I took issue often with building up other emotional, semi-layered character arcs and then relegating those like Skyler and Jesse to somber, blank-faced emotional palettes episode after episode. Anna Gunn's Emmy reel had to be several looong minutes of THIS face...

Congrats to Gunn though for surviving that odd move from hyper-prude pushover to empowered free-thinker, back down to stifled victim. She did the utmost at keeping some balance whenever the show seemed unwilling to give her much dialogue to play with. Even more congrats to her then for surviving this show's rabid fanbase, who persist to praise the show's layering and dimensions and still refer to her as "Walt's naggy bitch wife." Thankfully she got one of this episode's best moments, finally making it clear to Walt and to his devotee's that we're all sick of it. This isn't about family. It's Walt's ego, always was. Even plot convenience Baby Holly ain't buyin' that shit no more.

In future I won't be one of those mentioning this series alongside the likes of Mad Men, The Wire, The Sopranos, Six Feet Under or Buffy the Vampire Slayer (all of which, to be fair, had their slight ups-and-downs), but I'll gladly credit it as an addictive and singular approach to the art of seasonal television. Vince Gilligan and crew hit the 92% level more often than not, and it's nice to know with Heisenberg closing up shop, they've left their most loyal customer base on a solid high.

Downton Abbey: Season 4 (Ep. 401 & 402)

My expressions everytime we get a scene involving crazy-eyed Cora, ignored Edith,  hyper-empathetic Anna, or gratuitously underdeveloped patriarch Robert... or god help us, Mr. Bates...

"There are problems with the Abbey," Maggie Smith noted as some point in these first two episodes of the new season, as if it weren't already obvious to everyone involved. Julian Fellowes knows it. We know it. Maggie's pursed lips seem so desperate to dispel, "It's the godawful writing!"

The problems are none more obvious than in these first new episodes, which sees more inelegant plate-spinning than if servant Mr. Moseley had gotten wicked soused again. (Admittedly dull) Lynchpin heir Matthew Crawley died in a car accident, and Ms. O'Brien has stink-eyed her way into another family. Both are relatively major characters to this series, and yet their disappearances feel epically minor. All to showcase how this series has fallen from frothy ensemble fun to the stuffy, stagnant period fluff you thought it was before you ever watched it.

Underlining everything in bold, then recycling scenes again moments later so we can feel even more numb to the exposition--  which, if the plot is any good to begin with, will definitely be wrapped up by the end of the episode. Torturous, extended plots like Mr. Bates conviction, are instead given full weight over an entire season, and new bland faces are written in and gone by next week... Maybe someone in Downton will spend six episodes helping another random someone just so they can avoid having any personal depth of their own? Maybe Edith has another childhood friend/burn victim? The series seems driven to circle its wagons right back around, again and again, ignoring the endless possibilities within its seemingly endless (and totally capable) cast.

When Mary asks her grandmother, six months after her husband's death, "So...you think I should choose life?" It doesn't feel like the emotional crux needed to get Mary back on the horse, it instead seems like ham-handed filler. Of course your grandmother isn't gonna tell you to kill yourself! (Although Maggie Smith would certainly deliver the hell out that...) And when Anna suggests Mary take a walk and get some air in her purple shawl? Mary, dour as ever, raises an eyebrow, "I'll wear the black one." Just... UGH...

In upcoming weeks, Lady Mary better bet fuck somebody to death again... something! Anything! Hell, I even miss when the show was just about the logistics of a local flower show! Dreamy star of Weekend, Tom Cullen, joins the cast next week so we can assume a new love interest is in the works. OR he'll be gone the following week and Mr. Bates will decide to do something pointlessly noble to avoid having any sexual chemistry with his wife. STAY TUNED!

The Real Housewives of New Jersey: Season 5

 

-"I don't save my textseses." 

-"You don't save your textses?!"

A season more phony and orchestrated than a Posche fashion show. The show deserves the revamp it's getting after dragging its family feud plot out well beyond anyone's interest, including that of the family that's involved. Now that Teresa and Joe Giudice face a whopper of a 39-count indictment, all that's left is to wait for the other Louboutin to drop. Teresa's denial of anything other than Milania Hair Care and Fabellini's, is ironically the only thing that remains compelling. Searching for a glimmer of soul behind that high-pitched screeching and forehead of hair... That's the fun I suppose. She's a curiousity for sure, but then only when she's pushed into a corner. The mundane minutia of Caroline's Hoboken hideaway and Kathy's "can anybody hear me? I'm somebody!"-schtick just aren't cutting it. While at it's core Bravo's basically branded a squabbling group of surgically-mangled strangers forced to have dinner parties together, the New Jersey region always kept the extended family in focus. We knew they never liked each other, but now they know it, too. Maybe that's the difference.

Jane Lynch Controls My Television

It's been a while since I've done a post on television. In the meantime favorite shows have come and gone back into hibernation for the summer, and guilty pleasures have filled in the waning months. So long ago it was that my mild-disdain for True Blood has morphed into mild-curiosity for its upcoming second season. What can I say... trash television is in my blood, and similarly, it only took me six years to realize that mockery alone would never justify my watching The L Word. Then I realized what it was about that show. Set aside the fact that its deplorable characters were barely recognizable scene to scene, and the fact that its season long murder "mystery" was resolved with a L'Oréal commercial, the show did have Pam Grier chewing the background scenery as she struggled to remember her lines. That and Jane Lynch.

She's really all you need to make must-see television. But add in the factor of writing that isn't embarrassing and you can achieve something really special. Two of my current TV interests, Party Down and Glee, are both currently fighting over the brilliant comic timing of Jane Lynch.


Party Down is a superb show I only heard about a week ago, coinciding with the end of its first season. No surprise really considering it airs on the Starz Network, but that's forgetting that outside of Jane Lynch, we also get the likes of Ken Marino (The State) and Martin Starr (Bill of Freaks & Geeks), as well as drool-worthy Paul Rudd as co-creator and pilot writer! It's also a Veronica Mars reunion of sorts with creator Rob Thomas executive producing and various members of that ensemble making appearances, including a stellar Kristen Bell cameo. And did I mention that Fred Savage directs half the season? Who knew? But again... the Starz network.



The show follows a troupe of struggling actors and screenwriters whose catering job accentuates that their lives and dreams couldn't be more disparate. Party Down is funny, evolving, and with its own unique feel from workplace comedies like The Office. It has just been picked up for a second season and just ended its first on a wonderful high note. And yet... where's Jane Lynch going? Her character Constance, a one-time actress (resume: Dingleberries) with a burgeoning career in self-delusion, is the show's best comic highlight. Although as the season progressed she moved further into the background until she was indiscernible from Jennifer Coolidge!! Though smart casting decision on the part of Party Down since Jennifer Coolidge could almost - almost - make you forgive Jane Lynch's absence, she's just that good. Watch as she trips on mushrooms at a high dollar catering event in "a purple tube of consciousness," confusing lemons for "sun eggs."


Who do we have to blame for Jane Lynch theft? The Fox Network. Always blame the Fox Network... At least it turns out it's for a show with some real potential and another role that serves Lynch's best interest. Fox's Glee, which doesn't begin its season run until September, has a nice mix of good intentions and genuine quality. The show follows Mr. Schuester (played by the "I'm happy to repeat high school, he's so sexy" Matthew Morrison), a teacher longing to inspire new students as he is flooded with memories of past glee - the kind of glee that comes with having been in the Glee Club.

All that glee would be unbearable if it weren't for some honest laughs and a few surprising musical numbers. It may be a small leap from High School Musical, but it's a small and epic leap, and it leaves lots of promise with its pilot episode (currently free for viewing at Hulu.com). That promise also includes Jane Lynch as a cheerleading coach, probably equal to Constance in both meager screentime and grand self-delusion. Although if Jane Lynch reads this, it would fill me with... glee... if you'd choose to continue with Party Down. You know how Fox likes to cancel anything with redeeming value. You were on Arrested Development.

Here's the pilot episode's effectively upbeat musical number for Journey's "Don't Stop Believin." You'll either cringe or you'll be filled with... glee. Either way I think I see Jane Lynch!

A Politically Incorrect Family Picnic with Kerri Kenney

"This here actually is my plot. Obviously there's nobody in it yet, but God willing there will be. Hi Mom.


My mom started collecting Beanie Babies about four years after she died.

I used to leave 'em out here. In fact I had a whole collection for her... She had a great Princess Diana bear. Those are a fortune. I had a hard time gettin' her that one. She was really excited when I did get it... And I left 'em out here, you know, thinking this is a sacred place, and uh... Some nigger kid took 'em I think.


I have real dark skin. My mom was real light-skinned. She was an Irish... girl. I have real dark skin because I was -- apparently, so they say, I was raped -- My mother was raped -- by an American Indian. She had gone on -- it was some sort of... souvenir hunt in, uh, Minnesota. Wandered onto a reservation and BOOM they raped her.


They're talkin' about letting more, uh... Asian people in here, and uh, I put up a fliar -- of course without my name on it or any information -- saying, you know, "Let's try and keep--" In so many words, "Let's try and keep the Asians out." And I haven't heard anything back, but then again I didn't put my name or any phone number on it so... I don't know how I would hear back."

For Your Digital Windshield

Don't do what Donny Don't does.

TV is Your Father Now

Television in 2008 was a bit on the slow side. Damn those writers and their legitimized complaints! Hollywood has never been about sensible contracts, it's been about paying millions to Jennifer Aniston.

With the writer's strike behind us we can get back to what we all know best: socially isolating routine. Television in 2008 DID have a few things to teach us, especially profound as we bring in the New Year. So now for the best and worst -- and those shows just shameful enough to guide our lives in the right direction -- I present TV Teaches 2008. Television has raised you so well, so heed its solid advice.

Learn from Your Disappointments:

True Blood

Lesson: Lightning does not strike twice. (And can't reanimate the dead.)

How did Alan Ball's knack for creating fascinating character studies on Six Feet Under translate into the lifeless caricatures of True Blood? How does a telepathic woman named Sookie Stackhouse -- who freely masturbates on her front steps AND hooks up with the undead and a shape-shifting man-beast -- manage to be that excruciatingly dull? I guess Alan Ball really is trying.

This show's still in the grave, struggling to claw its way out admirably with gratuitous nudity and slapdash violence. But a corpse is a corpse no matter how you dress it up. Here's hoping that second season finds its footing. And a pulse.

Weeds

Lesson: Like any good high, it eventually wears off.

Mary Louise Parker is still effortlessly stunning, even when her character makes absolutely no sense. Part of the fun of Weeds in its solid first two seasons was that willingness to go anywhere and subvert the family sitcom dynamics. But I'm not sure I like when "anywhere" consists of young son Shane talking to his dead father and masturbating to photos of mom. This is ditch weed, pure and simple; worth a couple laughs before you feel sick to your stomach.

Learn from Your Guilt:

The Real Housewives of Atlanta

Lesson: Money can't buy you happiness or talent, but it can pay for your divorce lawyer or someone to raise your child.

As with most reality television, you'll hate yourself in the morning, but not as much as you'll hate other people. Take the lineup of edited-for-their-degradation personalities this season:

Sherée wants to be a fashion designer, minus that whole design thing. With all that expensive planning for the debut party of her line, she can't be bothered to have any actual clothes to show for it. Meanwhile, Deshawn sets ridiculously high but spirited goals for her charity auction, while the Atlanta elite offer up disgruntled shrugs instead of bids. Her grand total? Zero dollars and everyone's condescending two cents. And then there's Kim, a twenty-nine-going-on-fifty mom who spends thousands of her "Big Papa's" dollars trying to put out her country album. If only she cared about music or could sing. There's also brash Nene and boring-because-she's-friendly Lisa. It's trash television that does society a service: it helps you look down on the people that look down on you.

Learn from the Best:

Summer Heights High

Lesson: You were the awkward kid in high school, and you still are.

HBO made a smart move picking this one up. Chris Lilley's Aussie mockumentary about personal lives at a public school is hysterical and his triple performance is just astounding. It's contrastingly sweet and crass, and consistently clever, and manages to transcend the format in a way that even Christopher Guest could respect. All the better that Lilley uses actual high school students to meld with his troupe of delusional characters. Also impressive that, as a comedy about high school, it actually manages to capture the atmosphere perfectly while still managing to be broad and offend absolutely everyone.

Mad Men

Lesson: The old days weren't any better, but you could drink in your office... Legally.

Drama with subtlety, rich in character and nuance, with episodes that merit repeat viewings? If you had told me I could find this on AMC, I would have told you to step out of the sixties and into the real world. This kind of quality is so rare nowadays, even on cable television. Even more marvellous that a show about selling an image actually manages to live up to the advertising. I'd say Don Draper is the new Tony Soprano, without the therapy and the mob connections. He's at the top of the world, unknowable and fascinating even to himself, and yet the cracks of the facade are starting to manifest and shake the ground of those in his path. I look forward to the elegantly marketed aftermath.

"So Angel's on top again?"

Because Christmas is the time to remember what's important: Buffy and graphic double entendres.

A Momentary Mad Man

I'm having a bit of a Mad Men fever recently. Maybe it's that I just watched The Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency, or maybe it's that certain television shows are just bred better than others. Mad Men is high class, top shelf television. Not that models forced to live in a model house in aim of censored nudity isn't making someone's life richer.


Either route it's perfect advertising.

Yet there's something missing from television all too often, just about as much as exposed nudity. That something is writing, and Mad Men has more than its share. Not just story editors either, but living, breathing writers! The episodes have plots, themes, arc, and there has been nary an autopsy or a hit-and-run. Only on AMC... the network that has whittled the namesake American Movie Classics down to include to include Pet Sematary Two. When did they get all respectable like? The executives at AMC must keep the office bar stocked. That's how they do it at Sterling Cooper.


The ladies look padded and perfect, the men talk big and fall far; the politics, well... they're a little outdated. Were the sixties really a better time? Don Draper says no, I assure you. He's fighting on and off the job, stealing namesakes... And his wife Betty certainly wouldn't contest. Lately she'd rather take out the neighborhood birds with a gun.

Points in the first season had Mad Men feeling a touch heavy in its footing, but lately the characters have settled and their depths have been reached with a subtlety I so greatly value. Beautiful production, an ace and eclectic cast, and more than enough subtext for a course on Women's Issues or Business Management. And I've said it before and I'll say it again, Jon Hamm can sell anything.

These are some of my favorite moments of recent Mad Men... Miss Holloway, hold my calls.

The Gold Violin

ep. 7

All along it was the Draper Family responsible for Global Warming. Their after-picnic littering would cause audible gasps nowadays. The family outing's postcard perfection is quickly crumpled and tossed over discussions of kids tinkling outside and sticky hands inside the car. Hysterical, sad, telling and topical; one of the best uses of the show's period-piece element.

A Night to Remember

ep. 8

What is it about Joan Holloway? Played by Christina Hendricks she practically glows as she floats about the office; a seductive sizzle of red so easily capable of masking her torments. This episode featured a lovely and revealing moment when Joan removes her bra strap and caresses the indent beneath. There's so many layers under those so many layers. It sums up her character perfectly in a single image and it's shot like the heavens of Douglas Sirk.


Although it's called Mad Men it's actually the female roles stealing most of my attention. Set in the era of emerging women's rights, we follow Joan, Betty and Peggy's richly detailed struggle with matters of choice and power. Peggy's moving up the ladder of male dominance while Betty's moving out into the world, away from the home life that suffers.

On Janice Dickinson? Apparently the Russian girl hoards carrot cake.

The Jet Set

ep. 11

When TV shows hit their stride you get great episodes like The Jet Set. Oddly enough it's an episode where the lead character leaves his element and his usual setting, but in a way Don is forever outside his element, always selling and seeking something intangible. L.A. was fertile ground for Don's developing identity and I was surprised to approach the return flight with some hesitation...


No more poolside Don! But then I guess he isn't much different from the regular Don...


The episode also featured the show's third gay character, Kurt, whose office proclamation, "I'm homosexual. I make love with the men not the women," is so charming to me even still. Seriously classy.


It gives even more promise for future material, hopefully for Kurt as well as the closeted sadsack, Sal. Kurt just gave Peggy her Bravo-style gay makeover, meaning next season he could very well move into an L.A. model house. Even for a show set in the sixties, Mad Men is ahead of its time.

I Love My Fake Baby

I nominate My Fake Baby for Best Documentary of the Year.

It's the story of two women whose devotion to their "reborn babies" totally transcends the ridiculous. Reborn babies are ultra-realistic dolls that can mimic breathing, warmth, wriggling and heartbeats, and there's a growing British fanbase. Accordingly then this documentary is hilarious, but also so painful in its desperation that it strikes an unusual dramatic chord. When one woman presents her husband with her first Reborn acquisition -- a doll made to resemble their grandson in minute detail -- she is met with a reaction of slight concern and repulsion. Her guttural cries indicate she was expecting her husband to be just as passionate as one would be in welcoming a newborn into the family. Her actual grandchild is wise enough to set her straight, "That's a doll, you numbnuts!"

If only Christopher Guest's troupe had made this. The offbeat characters and delusional worldviews would have people rolling in the aisles just as this had me rolling in my computer chair... The only difference here is that these folks are real and so that laughter is tinged with equal parts dread and pity. There are apparently hundreds of grown British women who've taken to playing house with a hunk of finely detailed plastic. Basically it's brilliant (subtly devastating) comedy gold!

Watch it here:

Part 1 Part 2

First there's our reborn baby creator, Jamie, a single mom who took up the odd hobby after hunting for a realistic doll for her daughter. She skillfully paints individual veins, birthmarks, facial scratches, the works! Jamie's at the top of her craft; the Michelangelo of reborns. He used canvas whereas Jamie puts baby parts in her oven.


Jamie strolls up and down her local grocer with an empty cart, bumping into the customers, "Excuse me, would you like to buy a baby?... Come here every week and sell me babies." Watch as their utter joy melts into a shudder.


Jamie seems like a mostly stable woman who's great at what she does, and has found a ripe market in the questionably sane. It's also comforting that her daughters seem in on the joke. Yet another case of a child having significantly more sense than these adults.


Which brings us to the customer base:


Left: Sue is a woman overcome by a maternal instinct but with no desire for fussing and cleanup. Still, she individually washes the wheels on her pram (a creepier-sounding British stroller), bathes and even combs the hair of her four reborn daughters. Sue also travels to America for their "adoptions."

Right: Christina is a woman so overcome by sadness upon her grandson moving away that she replaces him with a doll replica.

Daily reminders that you're baby is actually a doll:

1) Those expensive designer bottle holders you bought are actually filled with laundry fluid, for the realistic appearance of actual milk.

2) The delivery of your baby required cardboard, packaging tape, and that reliable UPS service.

3) If your baby flies out of the car seat or loses its head, there's always a replacement online.

4) Sightseeing with your baby turns YOU into the main attraction.



With the reborn in one of her many designer prams (with detachable parasol), Sue wants to stand out on the playground. So much scary in a single image!

Sue says she's not delusional. "They're perhaps embarrassed for me because I am, perhaps, pushing a doll in a pram. But for me I don't see it like that, " she insists. "I don't see her as a baby, any of my girls. I don't see them as real babies. I know they're real dolls, I'm under no illusion. But it's just where I haven't got children, I guess there is still that female instinct in me."


The husbands are doing their best to remain supportive and oblivious. Sue's husband Terry doesn't even flinch when asked to pose in a family photo.

Of course Sue realizes why she prefers these dolls to real children, "Never grows out of her clothes, never soils them. It's just fabulous. The only difference is of course these guys don't move." Well I'm convinced it's for the best, not just because of the child's impending psychotic break, but also because of those nails!


Terry explains their lack of real kids: "The story behind that is when we was young, we decided that we would enjoy ourselves when we were young and have children later. But it's never stopped -- enjoying it. It's just we've had the holidays."

Sue elaborates, "It's too much commitment and I can't stand the noise, and I'm just so fussy really. If I could pick a child off the shelf, that would be wonderful because I could say, 'Yeah, I want one that's quiet and well behaved, and one that keeps clean.'"

The one Sue claws off the shelf is your "Average Creepy Baby":


There's also your "Ugly Baby":
The one on the right looks like Michael Keaton.


And my personal favorite: "Had a Hard Life Baby." She looks like she went from birth right into retirement.


Emmy voters where are you? Give My Fake Baby some love! If not for me, do it for the reborns and the reborns after them.