Monday, November 12, 2012

Skyfall

Perhaps the best way for Bond films to remain interesting is for their continual reinvention. Skyfall, the latest entry in the franchise, is certainly interesting, and often quite good. It contains most of the trappings of a typical Bond film: classy, gorgeous women; ritzy social milieu (a casino, in this case); a misanthropic, playboy antagonist with a grandiose lair; location shooting; tuxedos; a suspenseful introductory action sequence; espionage; assassinations; chases; mayhem, and so on.

However, it dispenses with most of these conventions within about an hour or so of the film, and then becomes something else entirely. There are many ways in which the film diverges from convention. Early in the film, we see Bond in his off-hours. Apparently he seeks an adrenaline rush in both business and leisure, judging by his new drink of choice: whiskey consumed under threat of scorpion bite. Bond has lost a step, and fails both physical and psychological evaluations. A potential femme fatale figure is introduced, but then removed almost just as quickly – Bond cannot save her. Bond discovers the villain’s lair, but doesn’t destroy it, and then calls for backup. Bond’s only high-tech gadget: a gun locked to his palm print. Later, Bond does not play on offense, but defense, and the action takes place not in an exotic location, but London, and then later Scotland. We learn a smattering of Bond’s history and upbringing, such as his parents’ names and his growing up an orphan. The film’s climax does not involve Bond foiling grandiose, world-changing plans, but stopping an (admittedly elaborate) revenge murder, and is equal parts Bond film, Home Alone, and MacGyver. Finally, Bond simultaneously both succeeds and fails at foiling these plans.

All of these deviation from convention make this the most human Bond has ever seemed (perhaps outside of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service), and in my opinion, he's better for it.

Other thoughts:

- My god, Roger Deakins is a wizard. Skyfall is resplendent, every image lovingly kissed by his amazing cinematography. Two scenes are particularly breathtaking. The first has Bond sneaking up on an assassin in a Shanghai high-rise at night. Gigantic, neon advertisements dance past the windows and reflect off the glass, silhouetting Bond’s target, and surrounding Bond in a kaleidoscope of liquid-smooth pastels. The second is at the Bond estate in Scotland. The setting begins grayed in fog, but then night falls, explosions ensue, and the rest of the climax is illuminated by the warm yellow-orange glow of a raging fire. White tendrils of breath stream from Bond and company, who are lit as if the fog itself were ablaze.

- Javier Bardem is excellent. His calm, knowing, yet gentle air of superiority is continually refreshing. The only shame is that there isn't more of him.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Tremé, Season 3, Episode 4: The Greatest Love

Tremé, like The Wire, is partly about the ossification, corruption, and failure of the governmental institutions meant to safeguard against urban decay and to improve quality of life. It’s also partly about the persistent humanism that grows between the cracks of those institutions: people who help each other out in both big and small ways; people who fight a knowingly futile battle against that ossification and corruption, and people who do their best to steer clear of the trouble those institutions bring. And of course, it’s also about music. And food. And musicians. And cooking. And family. And sex. On the whole, you might say it’s little like jambalaya. All of these ingredients were certainly in effect in this week’s episode.

This week, however, institutional corruption seemed to be at the forefront, because the LP and Toni scenes carried with them an extra special spice: some very slow-burning suspense. LP has been digging around a case where the police seem to be responsible for the death of an innocent man during the storm, while Toni has actively antagonized the police by placing an ad in a newspaper soliciting witnesses to come forward to testify against a corrupt officer. Last week, Toni warned her daughter Sofia to be extra careful not to get involved in anything which could land her in trouble with the police, and this week, LP comments somewhat worriedly on all of the people who’ve told him to be careful (including, in this episode, an extra-skittish law enforcement informant who provides him with incriminating photos).

All of these developments start to simmer in this episode, and the police become a menacing presence in these characters’ lives. Sofia is pulled over and given a ticket for not wearing a seatbelt. LP encounters two patrol officers having a conversation in front of his car. Described this way, these scenes do not sound suspenseful, but the episode gives each of them room to breathe. Even in a show where very little can seem to happen over the course of any given an episode, Tremé still has no absolutely pointless scenes. Thus when a scene begins with Sofia leaving work, getting into her car, and beginning to drive, it’s easy to suspect something bad might happen. Sure enough, the police pull her over, and an officer aggressively explores for reasons to get her into trouble. In LP’s similarly uncomfortable scene, LP excuses the officers as he gets into his car, and in his rearview mirror he sees them staring somewhat hostilely at him as he drives away.

All of this suspense culminates in the episode’s final scene, where Sofia drives her boyfriend and LP to a show. LP notices they are being followed by a squad car. He has Sofia turn right, and the squad car follows. He has Sofia turn left. So does the squad car. He has Sofia pull over. He gets out, and looks at the car as it slowly rolls by. In a point of view shot, both officers angrily glare at LP as they drive past. It’s a somewhat tame-sounding resolution to the episode’s buildup, but considering Tremé’s sometimes glacially-paced plotting, this dollop of foreboding is quite possibly the most suspenseful scene the show has ever had. It’s like encountering an extra spicy pepper you didn’t know was in the jambalaya, one that makes the whole stew all the richer.

Other thoughts:

 - Davis and Annie continue to grow a little farther apart. Goofy Davis antics – sacrificing a sock to the music gods that rule over a former recording studio-turned-laundry, for instance – that previously would have amused Annie now seem to mildly annoy her, and he can’t get a hold of her when she’s on the road. This is a sad development, because I like them as a couple. It makes sense though; as Annie becomes more and more of a serious musician, Davis likely looks more and more like the clown he is.

- LaDonna and Albert finally have a scene together, and they immediately take a shine to one another (of course). His stubbornness has finally met its match in her brassiness. These two characters were cut from the same cloth, so it’s nice to see them play off one another. The practice session at her bar is also pretty neat, with another big chief joining the festivities for a showdown. This scene was also laced with a bit of suspense: last week we learned Albert has lymphoma, and this week Delmond finds out. I was just as worried as Delmond that too much activity might make Albert keel over.

- Some nice editing in this episode, including a great montage sequence of Toni having the same conversation with people in different settings as she tries to get informants to come forward in her case against the corrupt office. It’s all done with shot/reverse shot: a potential witness would say a line, and in the next shot, Toni would respond. Cut to a reverse shot of a different witness responding, and then cut back to Toni, in a new location, responding to yet another witness. All of the conversations are identical (no one wants to come forward out of fear of reprisal from the police), so it gives a nice sense of the futility of Toni’s case.

- Another nice bit of editing was the crosscutting back and forth between LaDonna being shown potential houses by her husband, and Janette interviewing potential kitchen staff for her restaurant. Both are presented with a parade of lemons, until they each hit upon the perfect candidates. These crosscut scenes had two things I liked, one for each scene. During the house-hunting portion, LaDonna’s husband gets the best line he’s ever had when he shows LaDonna a house that’s way too big. She sarcastically asks him what they’ll do with the five extra bedrooms, and his deadpan response is that she can move her bar into the third floor and throw the customers out onto their residential street at closing time. The thing I liked about Janette’s scene is that she notices that her business partner, Tim, is interviewing only attractive young women rather than experienced professionals for positions on their new restaurant's wait staff. So already there’s trouble in paradise, and only one episode after Janette agreed to this whole arrangement.

- The scene that opened the episode was fun as well, as a little smartass in the marching band Antoine teaches plays a musical stinger at the end of a disappointing practice session. Wah wah indeed.

- The Indian practice session had four regular characters in the same scene: LaDonna, Albert, Delmond, and Antoine. I think that might be the most the show has ever had in the same place at the same time. Although since it was a music scene, none exchanged a word of dialogue with one another (of course).

- No Sonny this episode, which unfortunately means none of my new favorite character: Sonny’s Vietnamese girlfriend’s dad. I laugh my ass off every time he pops up on one of Sonny’s dates, having a great time with them and preventing Sonny from fucking his daughter.

- Colson had a fun little scene where he got to sleep with a hotel concierge. Their spontaneous sex initiation was nicely timed for maximum laughs.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Tremé Season 3, Episode 1: "Knock With Me - Rock With Me"

Unfortunately, I don't have enough time to post in-depth about the season premiere of Tremé, but Sepinwall gives a nice summary of what makes this series great in his review of the new season. Some particularly choice excerpts:
"Tremé doesn't bend to the demands of the market. It's a show about New Orleans and jazz, a city and an artform that are distinctly American but have both been half-forgotten. Its priorities are character, music and local color, with plot waaaay down the list."
...
"The performances... are so good that the characters can drive the series whether their stories are big... or small. The music is so well-chosen, and eclectic... that the show can get away with pausing the (minimal) action several times an episode just to let us enjoy the performances. And the sense of atmosphere and local color is unmatched among any show in recent memory."
...
"The longer you get to know the people on a character-based show, the more their stories come to matter, so that even small changes... have tremendous weight."

There's no other show like it on television, and I'll be happy to spend 10 more hours with it. I might try a few more recaps as the season goes on.

Okay, I lied. Here are just a few thoughts:

- I know of no other mediated experience that recreates the thrill of listening to live music better than this show. The power of the performances on Tremé are one of the reasons that I have the patience for them. On other shows, I'd be itching to get them over with, but the music - and the characters' passion for it - is so palpable that it becomes imbued with a heightened sense of liveliness. Good thing too, as music is such an integral part of the show; it is so important to the characters that show must respect it, embrace it, relish it.

- Davis, Davis, Davis. I've always had a soft spot for him. His glaring failures, missteps, and idiosyncratic personality tics are often played for laughs (and it works, at least for me), and it makes those moments in which he succeeds all the more impressive and heartwarming (like his relationship with Annie). This week, he leads an appallingly underwhelming cultural heritage tour full of nothing but sites that have been torn down, re-purposed, or closed in the wake of the storm, and he is abandoned by his dismayed tour group midway through. The proceeds are intended to go toward an intriguing cause: a New Orleans jazz opera about life after the storm. Knowing Davis though, his vision will likely be too uncompromising to be successful.

- I continue to love everything related to Delmond and Janette's stories. Their plots are like shows unto themselves (although you could probably say that about each of the main characters), and are oddly similar, each revolving around their artistic expression, one musical, the other culinary. Compromise, satisfaction, creativity, commercial success, and the creative process are interesting story hooks that are rarely told this well.

- I love LaDonna's sass. Khandi Alexander is great.

- Antoine is to Tremé as Norm is to Cheers. Antoine always wears his milkbone underwear in this dog eat dog world. I'll be intrigued to see him get more invested in his assistant director marching band gig.

- Is it just me, or does Sophie's boyfriend seem at least 10 years older than her?

- I like what the show is doing with Sonny, but mainly because I think his boss/father-of-his-Vietnamese-girlfriend is pretty fun (Sonny's still kind of a scumbag). Paraphrasing:
Sonny: "Can I take your daughter to a nice restaurant for dinner?"
Dad: "Of course not. You'll eat with me and the rest of the Vietnamese community just like on all of your dates."

- I loved the scene that ended the episode, where Terry shares a few friendly words with a busker in a crazy getup and a bike bedecked with Christmas-lights. The thoughts in Terry's head are visible on his face: "Only in New Orleans would I have an encounter like this." Likewise, only on Tremé would we get a show as relaxed, laconically paced, and enjoyable as this.

Monday, September 3, 2012

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 8: “Gliding Over All”

“Gliding Over All” is a fairly calm and quiet episode to close out this half of the final season of the series. Overall, I found it somewhat lackluster, and while still a good hour of television, probably the weakest of the 8 episodes to air thus far. Given that we’re only halfway through this final season, I suppose I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up for a suspenseful climax like those Breaking Bad usually accomplishes. However, even by the standards of a typical episode of this show, this particular episode seems to coast along with very little eventful happening, outside of some developments near the end. But then again, perhaps that’s part of the point.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 7: “Say My Name”

Poor Mike. Mike knew something like this could happen; he could see it coming in the second episode of the season, when he referred to Walt as a ticking time bomb whom he wanted to be far away from when he exploded. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to realize that Walt’s fuse is best lit by a wounded pride. Or perhaps he realizes it, but thinks that he’s impervious to the blast if there are no cops around. Twice this episode, Walt expects Mike to thank him when the two are about to part ways: once for getting Mike his $5 million at the start of the episode, and then again at the end, for tipping Mike off that he is about to be arrested and for retrieving Mike’s “go” bag. In the first instance, Walt’s request for Mike’s thanks is somewhat insincere: both of them know there will be no love lost, and Walt is still high off of his impressive negotiation with Declan (more on that scene below). Mike simply stares at Walt with his mackerel eyes and reiterates the need for Walt to remove the bug from Hank’s office, and Walt smugly nods his head and walks away. At the end of the episode, however, things play out differently.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 6: “Buyout”

“When it comes down to it, are we in the meth business, or the money business?” Jesse asks Walt midway through this episode. It’s an apt question, one that points to a larger issue the show has dealt with from time to time: what is Walter White’s motivation to cook meth? On the surface, the answer to this question seems to keep changing: he wants to make enough money to pay for his cancer treatments; he wants to make enough money to provide for his family; he wants to cook because he takes pleasure in the excellence he brings to the craft; in Gus Fring’s steady employ, he’s able to make more money than he’s ever dreamed possible; he enjoys being Heisenberg too much to let go of it, and so on. However, as we’ve gotten to know Walt over the years, the answer is actually much more consistent: Walter White is a prideful man, and both his failures in his previous life and successes in this current one have stoked the fires of his pride into megalomania.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 5: “Dead Freight”

“Yes, I have children, so what? You think because we’re both parents that I won’t let my partner do what’s necessary?” Walt asks this of Lydia near the middle of the episode, when Lydia is trying - once again - to talk her way out of being murdered by Mike. Lydia wants Walt to swear that she won’t be killed after she divulges how they can steal an “ocean” of methylamine, and tries to prey on Walt’s sympathies as a parent. Little do we realize how prophetic these words will be at the episode’s end, when Walt stands by and watches, to his horror, as a partner shoots dead a little boy, doing what’s “necessary,” for the episode’s thrilling heist to come off without a hitch.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 4: “Fifty-One”

When this episode began with Walt picking up his Aztek from the mechanic, I thought to myself that show runner Vince Gilligan likes that car just as much as Benny the mechanic does, considering all of the paces it has been through over the seasons. I also recalled Gilligan once stating in an interview that there’s a very specific reason Walt drives an Aztek and not some other car. When Walt finds his Heisenberg hat in the backseat, and decides to sell the car to Benny the mechanic for a pittance, this episode finally delivers that reason. The Aztec is a relic of Walt’s former life as a downtrodden chemistry teacher. It’s an ugly but practical car, one well-suited for a humble family man. This is not at all who Walt is anymore, and seeing the Heisenberg hat sitting in the passenger seat makes the contrast very salient for him. The Aztek is no longer fit for the person he is now (or the person he thinks he is), so he sells it for next to nothing, and leases a flashy car in its place, one more appropriate for Heisenberg. And then, in one of the funnier montage sequences the show has done, he also decides to re-up Walt Jr.’s Challenger, which Skyler had previously nixed. Walt was beholden to his wife’s wishes, but Heisenberg is not so easily cowed.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 3: “Hazard Pay”

It’s been interesting to learn more about the scale of Gus’s operation in these past two episodes. We knew it was extensive, given the resources he was able to devote to it, and these past two episodes have explored both the corporate/supplier and enforcement/distribution sides of the enterprise. In this episode, we learn more about the men under Mike who distributed the meth, both as Mike visits a prison inmate in the opener, and then later as he parcels out the “hazard pay” for those who need to be “made whole.” Having Mike clean up the mess Walt created by killing Gus has provided a nice way filling out the details of Gus’s operation.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 2: “Madrigal”

Tonight’s Mike-heavy episode has a rather intense and thematically indicative opening. Mr. Schuler’s stoicism starts out funny, as he robotically eats from a bowl of tater tots and ignores the eager-to-please team of food scientists who have prepared a tasting, but then it becomes suspenseful as his stoicism continues through the rest of the scene, from his avoidance of the police through to his suicide on the toilet. It’s probably not a coincidence that he reminded me of Gus, especially in last season’s premiere, when he silently arrives at the lab, kills Hector, and leaves. If Gus and Mr. Schuler had switched places, might not Gus have behaved exactly the same way?

Friday, July 20, 2012

Louie Season 3, Episode 4: “Daddy’s Girlfriend (Part 1)”

Last night’s Louie provided another instance of why the show is one of the smartest and most formally interesting comedies on television. The show is episodic, routinely alternating between Louis C.K.’s standup bits and short narratives that usually somehow relate to them. He begins this episode with a funny standup bit about answering his daughter’s school-mandated question, “What is prejudice?” The bit quickly veers off into sex jokes, but later in the episode, we see him enact his definition as he (somewhat creepily) peeks through the windows of his eldest daughter’s elementary school, contemplating what the teachers would be like both as sex partners and as parental material for his children. His prejudice here is to think that the teachers at his daughter’s school would make good mothers. The scene is made funny through the repetition of evocative, doo-wop-esque music as he ogles the teachers, but it is also made somewhat sincere (as far as leering goes, anyway) by his dual considerations of each teacher: What would it be like to sleep with this woman? What would she be like as a parental influence for my kids?

These kinds of concerns and goals are sometimes portrayed in television dramas (single parent tries to date, conflict with children ensue), but rarely do they work their way into the mind of the single parent as effectually as this episode does. It helps that we get access Louie’s subjective depth, as he imagines what one of the teachers would be like playing with his kids, all while the same music plays over the scene. The result is that it felt not only like both of these concerns were of equal priority for Louie, but that he was even turned on by the women’s ability to be a positive influence in his daughters’ lives, and that’s a perspective that seems quite rare for television. All told, the scene was powerfully sympathetic, and even somewhat empathetic, as it made me think about what a burden it would be to have to weigh both of those priorities right from the start of any relationship.

This sympathetic scene of prejudice is motivated by an earlier scene with his kids, who drop a hint about the man their mother is dating. Thus Louie’s search for a for a romantic partner who would also be good for his kids is only partially altruistic; he also just wants to compete with his ex-wife for the affection of his children (a theme Louie has worked with before).*  

*The actors playing Louie’s kids are a gold mine, especially the younger one. They’re both wonderfully naturalistic performers, and the way in which Louie interacts with their characters is both frequently heartwarming and devastating (in particular I’m thinking of the opener to one of last season’s episodes: as Louie is brushing the younger daughter's teeth, she absentmindedly tells Louie she likes living with her mother better). In last night's episode the younger daughter wants Louie to date a veterinarian so they can play with the animals. 

At first, acting on an ill-advised impulse, Louie reaches out to fellow comic (and apparent fuck-buddy) Maria Bamford. I don’t have much to say about this scene, other than that I found funny the horrified terms in which Bamford rephrased Louie’s proposal that she come over for dinner with him and his kids, especially her dismay over Louie’s “trying to add features” to their sex. Also, it’s regularly amusing to see the depths of humiliation to which Louis C.K. subjects “himself” (or his character, Louie), as when Bamford ends the scene by pushing Louie away, flatly telling him he’s bad at sex.

After the interlude at the school, the next woman he reaches out to is Parker Posey, who works at a book store (her character goes unnamed). Here, the episode turns to slightly different subject matter: asking a stranger out on a date. It's subject matter like this where Louie really excels: the subtly dramatic moments that punctuate the minutiae of everyday life. It can be a nerve-wracking ordeal to ask out someone you have a crush on, and that you think is perfect for you, and the show captures this feeling perfectly.

Posey is nice to Louie, attractive, and seems like good parental material, given her ability to get inside Louie’s daughter’s head without even having met her. Yet Louie palpably struggles to get past his own nervousness in his first two encounters with Posey. He wants to extend the conversation with her upon first meeting her but can’t think of a way to do it without being awkward, or rather, any more awkward than he’s already been (here’s his opener to Posey: “I’m looking for a book about flowers… I mean I, um, I need a book about my, uh, for my kid, about flowers. For a child.” Louis C.K. is fantastic at playing awkward). Further enticing him, she seeks him out in his second trip to the bookstore, all smiles and flirtatious laughter, asking about whether his daughter liked the book. Louie’s very real connection with Posey in this scene is made all the more potent through its contrast with the scene immediately preceding it: Louie finishes a set and exchanges awkward glances with Bamford (calling to mind her harsh putdown from earlier in the episode).

Louie becomes determined to ask out Posey, but rather than finding a way around the barrier of his own nervousness, he crashes straight through it, starting out with some surprisingly suave words meant to deter what he assumes will be an automatic “No” response (I particularly liked his prefacing everything with “I’m going to come out and tell you, I’m asking you out”). He also shows a good amount of empathy for what it must be like to be a single woman, especially one who shows kindness to a man “as a human being,” only to have them “torpedo toward your vagina.” The latter is a poor choice of words, but the sentiment resonates. However, he quickly devolves into rambling about his own shortcomings and insecurities, turning what seemed like a charming way to ask someone out into something more insecure and pathetic. Nevertheless, once Louie finally shuts up, Posey agrees to go out with him, and Louie caps off the excitement of his success with a callback to a standup bit form earlier in the episode, pumping his fist the way a golfer or tennis player does after a win. And I was right there with him, emotionally; Louis C.K. perfectly captured the high risk, high reward feelings that are a part of asking out someone you like.

Other thoughts:

- I liked that Louie’s ogling of one of the teachers is aborted mid-ogle when he spots her wedding ring. Also good: each time his ogling is aborted, the music just stops – there’s no clichéd sound of the scratch of a record needle.

- I loved how Posey’s compliments in her and Louie's second meeting incite another hilarious bout of subjective narration: the doo-wop music returns, and Posey throws herself into Louie’s embrace as books fly off the shelves around them, and together the two fall passionately to the floor.

- A nice bit separates Louie’s second and third encounter with Posey, where Louie works up his nerve by shaving. The look he gives himself at the end is perfect: “Well, here goes nothing.”


- Also nice: Louie’s date proposal is done entirely in a close two shot, and Posey’s joke response (“I’m a lesbian”) is in close-up, as is Louie’s reaction to her joke. Good use of style, Louis C.K.: the two shot allows us to observe Louie’s blustering and blundering while simultaneously allowing us to gauge Posey’s many expressive, yet silent responses to what he’s saying. I particularly liked how her eyes widened when Louie says “torpedo toward your vagina,” as well as her drawing back slightly when Louie makes a “stop” gesture with his hands, but which also looks like he’s miming grabbing her breasts (a thought encouraged partly by this gesture coming on the heels of the “vagina” line).

Monday, July 16, 2012

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 1: “Live Free or Die”

Once again, a new season of Breaking Bad begins at a point in the future, to which the rest of the season will work its way toward. This flashforward makes itself evident through Walt’s hairstyling: he sports a full head of hair, shaggy beard, and hipster-chic, thick-rimmed glasses. It’s a nice reveal, as the episode takes its time in showing us the new-look Walt, first spending considerable time showing him playing with his bacon (making what appeared to me to resemble the mushroom cloud of a nuclear explosion).

Monday, June 11, 2012

Mad Men Season 5, Episode 13: “The Phantom”

For Don, this whole season has been about the changed man he has become after his marriage to Megan, but it ends with a question about how much he’s actually changed, and a strong implication that it’s less than the we might hope. However, before getting to the fantastic scene that concludes this season, let’s back up and think about how this episode leads up to that point.

Monday, June 4, 2012

Mad Men Season 5, Episode 12: “Commissions and Fees”

Matt Weiner has said that the theme of this season is “everyone for themselves.” Again and again, through nearly all of the big and many of the small developments this season, we’ve seen this theme manifest in the mindset and behavior of the characters: Don’s hedonistic “love leave” comes at the expense of SCDP; Megan quits her advertising career to focus on her acting dream; Peggy leaves SCDP to advance her career; Joan prostitutes herself for a partnership; Michael and Peggy each bilk Roger for under-the-table work he throws their way; Don leaves Michael’s Snoball pitch in the cab, and so on and so forth. Lane’s embezzlement of company money to pay his taxes is yet another prime example, and in “Commissions and Fees,” we finally see some of the saddest consequences of this mindset. In the payoff to what other critics have described as an excessive amount of foreshadowing of something tragic befalling one of the SCDP partners, Lane hangs himself rather than deal with the shame of being fired by Don once Don discovers what Lane has done.*

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Mad Men Season 5, Episode 11: “The Other Woman”

Peggy had to leave. That’s the only thing she could do after Don treated her like trash yet again, this time by throwing money in her face. Don’s behavior is all the more egregious this time, because Peggy actually deserves high praise for saving the Chevalier Blanc campaign by spinning a revision of it out of thin air. Peggy has never deserved the degree of lambasting to which Don routinely subjected her, but this time, Don completely misreads her behavior – she seems to question Don’s giving this account back to Michael partly because she wants the account, but also because she is genuinely confused over her responsibilities during the run up to the Jaguar pitch (although there is a degree of petulance in her voice when she questions Don’s decision). Don’s behavior here is a watershed moment for Peggy and for viewers. Peggy and Don have had many breakthroughs in their relationship both this season and last: she and Don have become closer, and Peggy has acquired more and more responsibility at SCDP. Yet Don still lashes out at her when he’s having difficulty with unrelated matters (Jaguar, Megan), and it’s made all the worse this time for happening in front of others, rather than in private. We’ve seen it in bits and pieces all season, most memorably when she stands up to Don for blaming her when Megan leaves SCDP, but the changes in both Peggy’s personal and professional life have done wonders for her self-esteem, and we see it again in the aftermath of Don’s latest abuse. Rather than reducing her to the verge of tears, Don’s berating frustrates and angers her. Crying would have indicated that Don made her feel bad about herself (as he has in the past), whereas anger indicates instead that she’s simply fed up with Don’s abuse. Don’s behavior really leaves her no recourse but to leave if she is to continue to value herself as highly as she has these past two seasons. All she needed was a little push from Freddie Rumsen to make her realize it.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Mad Men, Season 5, Episode 10: "Christmas Waltz"

I had been idly wondering whatever happened to Paul Kinsey after the end of season 3, when the senior partners formed the new agency but didn’t invite Paul to join them. This week’s episode answered this question quite thoroughly, and once again demonstrated the way characters on this show change, but also how they stay the same. Paul’s a Hare Krishna. Certainly his appearance has changed, as has his belief system and occupation. But in other ways, he’s still the same Paul: insecure, pretentious, envious, and somewhat delusional (or at the very least, a terrible judge of his own abilities and the character of others). As with Don and Roger this season, perhaps Paul’s biggest change in character is his greater self-awareness, which we see repeatedly throughout the episode. He points out to Harry that when the two knew each other better, Paul was very insecure, and he seems to understand the envy he feels when Harry tells him that he had a vision while chanting earlier, and he even admits to Harry that he struggles with the basic tenets of his new religion (particularly emptying his mind during chanting). This last item is not something the old Paul would readily be willing to admit. At the same time, however, he still has these same feelings, just as he did before he became a Hare Krishna, and still suffers from the same inability to estimate his own capabilities, as we surmise from the description we hear of his rather unsubtle Star Trek spec script. Even greater self-awareness hasn’t helped Paul here. His futile struggle to escape from himself brings to my mind the phrase, “Wherever you go, there you are.”

Friday, May 18, 2012

Community Season 3, Episodes 20-22

The first of last night's episodes, "Digital Estate Planning" is exemplary of one of the reasons I love this show: there is no other comedy on television that so thoroughly and successfully reinvents itself from week to week. Last season it seemed as if Dan Harmon was trying his hand at every genre he’d ever wanted to write and produce (horror, western, fantasy, science fiction, conspiracy thriller, documentary, drama, not to mention the parodying of television staples like clip shows, bottle episodes, and Christmas specials), and we got a bit of that again this week, when he turned his show into a video game (there have been other instances this season as well: musicals, Ken Burns documentaries, and forking plot narratives, to name a few). The episode finds the study group playing a 16-but era video game for Pierce’s inheritance, and it’s both a funny homage to video games and another opportunity for the show to display its excellent grasp of its characters. One of my favorite gags is exemplary: Troy’s jumping animation is a somersault, while the others just have a normal jump, and he uses it far more frequently than the others. His avatar can hardly sit still; he even jumps around as other characters stand and talk with one another, which demonstrates his excitement over not only getting to play a game, but getting to play as himself. This is a joke that stems from the nature of his character, and it simultaneously makes excellent use of this particular episode’s premise. In many ways, Troy can be very child-like, so of course he’ll play a game in a relatively child-like manner. The episode is chalk-full of these kinds of character-based jokes that also take advantage of the video game premise. The show routinely excels at this particular brand of comedy: no matter the particular hat it’s wearing in any given episode, it manages to be both aware of television and movie tropes and to embrace them at the same time. Often it seems as though each episode is an answer to the question: “How would these characters behave if they found themselves in an X show?” where X is the genre or convention of the week. Very rarely do I find the answer to this question unimpressive. My only complaint is that the last three episodes never acknowledged Jeff and Annie’s promise to sleep together in the musical number of the season premiere. Thankfully, there will be another season to resolve this and other character developments.

Other thoughts:
- I was happy to see the return of Evil Abed in the season finale. Harmon once said he wanted to take Abed in a darker direction this season, and he certainly accomplished this by emphasizing the ways in which Abed's limitations strained his relationships in the study group (especially in his fight with Troy), but it was also amusing to see Abed literally become evil, and what he thought this entailed. It was also a nice touch that after her traumatic therapy session with Evil Abed, Britta told Annie that she was thinking of dying her hair. This is precisely what Britta did in the actual darkest timeline from "Remedial Chaos Theory": she dyed a blue streak in her hair.

- Chang's been taken to a pretty broad place at this point. I wonder if he'll stay this way next year or if he'll be reeled back in somewhat.

- I also wonder if they'll take Britta and Troy any further than goofy grins and affectionate hugs. The show has never seemed terribly comfortable dealing with potential romantic relationships between its regulars, but I would be interested to see how either of them behave with a more long term romantic partner.

- Donald Glover's offhanded delivery of Troy's line about being the AC school's messiah was hilarious.

- I also enjoyed Annie and Shirley's accidental murder spree in the blacksmith shop. We've seen Annie transform into strange versions of herself over the course of the show's run, given the right circumstances (a security guard in season one, a tough as nails heroine in the first part of the season two finale, a crazed assistant to a mad director in the Apocalypse Now homage from this season, etc.), so it was funny to see it happen again, but unintentionally.

- On the whole, I found season 2 to have a greater quantity of outstanding episodes, but this season certainly had its moments as well. To my mind, the ones that compare most favorably include "Remedial Chaos Theory," (the forking plot episode) "Pillows and Blankets," (the Ken Burns episode) "Virtual Systems Analysis," (Annie and Abed in the dreamatorium) "Basic Lupine Urology" (the Law and Order episode), and "Contemporary Impressionists" for Britta's Michael Jackson alone. Others had their moments, however (the Britta-Chang rivalry in "Geography and Global Conflict" was pretty hilarious, as was Britta's brief romance with Subway in "Digital Exploration of Interior Design." Britta was on fire all season, really).

UPDATE: it looks like others out there agree that the video game was supposed to be 8-bit, rather than 16-bit, although it looked more 16-bit to me. Also, Sepinwall points out that Annie sort of got over her crush on Jeff in the dreamatorium episode. Maybe I'm just a shipper.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Mad Men Season 5, Episode 9: "Dark Shadows"

 http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5031/7196984072_47b00333a7.jpg
This episode begins to reap dramatic spoils from seeds sown earlier in the season, specifically regarding Michael’s employ at SCDP, although it manages to do so in a characteristically unexpected way. We’ve seen his talent manifest over the course of previous episodes (his Topaz pitches were particularly inspired, while last week saw him succeeding with his idea for Chevalier Blanc), and it was not a far stretch to anticipate his becoming a creative rival for Peggy (more on that later). However, this episode pits him not against Peggy, but against Don. We see this develop throughout the episode, first as Michael expresses mildly condescending surprise that Don could come up with an idea as good as the devil campaign after going for so long without writing. Later, both Michael and Don thank Ken simultaneously for Ken’s compliments on their work in the conference room scene – Don’s thanks sounds perfunctory, whereas Michael makes his thanks sound overly gratified, as if in relief for the recognition Don didn’t give him (and Don is rather annoyed in his glance at Michael after they both thank Ken). And of course, there’s also the uncomfortable scene in the elevator, where Michael confronts Don over not giving the client a chance to hear both pitches. While it’s not completely unexpected for Michael to be as good as Don – there are many talented people in advertising – what is surprising is that Don feels just a little bit threatened by him. Don has always been a pragmatist when it comes to selling clients ideas, so it might be true that approaching Snoball with two campaigns could have been perceived as a sign of weakness, but the show made it pretty clear that his decision came from a place of insecurity over Michael’s talent, rather than one of confidence in his own idea.

Monday, May 7, 2012

Mad Men Season 5, Episode 8: “Lady Lazarus”

With "Lady Lazarus," Mad Men finally intersects with one of the major cultural touchstones of the 1960s: The Beatles. When Megan handed Don a copy of Revolver as an example of what’s going on “out there,” in American/youth culture, my initial exclamation and excitement over the show acquiring the rights to a Beatles song was quickly followed by guesses as to which song they acquired. The first song I happened to think of was “Elanor Rigby,” but I quickly decided it was inappropriate. Reflecting on the events of the episode, my next guess was (in my opinion) the most haunting song on the album, “For No One.” I thought it would fit somewhat nicely, as the song essentially describes the days immediately before (or after) the dissolution of a romantic relationship. Megan and Don are not there (yet), and it would have been a bit excessive considered in relation to Pete’s story this episode, but it could still fit, since it is possible to construe this episode as the beginning of the end for Don and Megan. However, “Tomorrow Never Knows” works much better both for this episode, and for Mad Men as a whole. Part of the show’s overall appeal lies in its unpredictability, which is definitely analogous to “Tomorrow Never Knows,” both in terms of the song’s deviation from the standard Beatles sound, and in terms of John Lennon suggesting we “surrender to the void.”

Sunday, May 6, 2012

The Avengers

I also watch movies every now and then. I saw The Avengers yesterday, and had enough thoughts about the film that I decided to put some of them on paper. Overall, although it starts slow, the film’s action set-pieces more than makes up for its initial clunkiness, as do the ever-present Whedonesque touches of cleverness and humor, almost always stemming from the various characters’ personalities and the way in which they engage with one another.
Let’s get the bad out of the way first. The first 45 minutes or so are somewhat lumbering, which can be partially blamed on the film’s needing to pick up where all of the major characters’ solo features left off. However, not all of the blame can be placed at the feet of the film’s position in regard to its predecessors. The film’s very first narrative material concerns a deal made between Loki and the (evil) forces dictating the terms of his return to Earth, but it is rushed, and strangely withholds Loki’s identity, a needless restriction since Loki appears just a few minutes later in the film’s next scene. Additionally, much of the action at the soon-to-be-destroyed S.H.E.I.L.D. base is overly concerned with the film’s MacGuffin, a cube of energy called the Tesseract.

While he is menacing, Loki is somewhat of a strange choice for a villain (if one partially determined by the preceding films); despite Whedon’s bona fides concerning supernatural forces, Loki does not connect well to the kind of personal conflict at which Whedon excels, and which gives much of the Marvel universe its tremendous appeal. Marvel heroes have superhero-level problems, of course, but unlike the characters in many DC comics, they also often remain grounded in the problems of everyday life, or are often analogues for how people can feel at different times in their lives (the X-Men and teenagehood, for instance), which is a part of what makes Marvel characters so appealing. The first two Spider-Man films are exemplary; they did a wonderful job of relating the threats represented by their respective super villains to Peter Parker’s struggles as a person and a hero. Aside from some humorous parallels between Tony Stark and Loki, and the familial tension between Loki and Thor, much of that sort of connection between Loki and the heroes is missing from The Avengers. To certain extent, this is somewhat inevitable, given that the Avengers consists of a group of otherwise unrelated heroes who assemble only to take on threats bigger than any single one of them could handle alone, and it is admirable that the film is able to make it personal for as many of them as it does. Nonetheless, for many of the film’s characters, it does not feel like much is at stake in Loki’s particular threat aside from the routine need for good to triumph over evil; any other interpersonal conflicts the film explores (and thankfully, there are many) merely seem to be happenstance. While Loki occasionally has the opportunity to display his particular brand of maliciousness (trickery), his grasp of human psychology seems tenuous at best. His gibberish about humans being made for subjugation is particularly void of merit; super villains are often more compelling when there’s something substantive at the core of the beliefs that motivate them to their heinous acts. However, that’s the last of anything even mildly negative about the film.

Much of what makes the film work so well is the mileage Whedon is able to get out of interpersonal conflict amongst the Avengers themselves, and the friction generated when so many powerful and well-developed characters are put into a room together (a staple of any Marvel super team). In addition to Loki, each of the characters faces more personal struggles stemming from their pasts, their personalities, or their powers. Whdeon seems to have had the most fun writing for Iron Man and Hulk. Tony Stark is the closest equivalent the film has to a quipster (a stock Whedon character), whereas Hulk nicely serves many different dramatic functions (and gets nearly all of the film’s biggest laughs). More than any of the others, Bruce Banner is tortured by his “superpower,” which in itself provides good dramatic material, as does the unease it creates in his allies. As the strongest and wildest character in the Marvel universe, the other characters are rightly afraid of the potential for the Hulk to become unleashed in a contained space, and the film’s lengthy middle, aboard a flying S.H.I.E.L.D. aircraft carrier, gains much of its gravitas from the possibility of Banner losing control and Hulking out. This gravitas is paid off nicely when Banner does indeed transform, with only a terrified Black Widow around to serve as the focus for his rage. This is a particularly smart choice; she is the least super-powered of the group, relying on martial artistry, subterfuge, and psychological manipulation to achieve her ends (we see this repeatedly in her interrogation methods), so she has no other recourse but to flee in terror when confronted with an unstoppable, unreasonable, irrational force (and her terror is very well-played by Scar Jo, who shakes visibly after nearly getting destroyed).

The climactic battle is particularly masterful, pitting the Avengers against an invading army of aliens flowing through a wormhole into the streets and skies of New York. It is worth a detailed discussion, as it is one of the best team-oriented superhero action scenes I’ve seen – much better than anything on offer in the X-Men films, for example. Whedon is able to clearly convey how the team works as a cohesive unit both stylistically and narratively. Captain America serves an important function in this regard. As the battle commences, he takes charge, and dictates to the audience as much as to the other members of the Avengers what role of each of them will play in the following fracas, making the action much more comprehensible, both by making it easy to understand where certain actions are taking place in relation to one another, as well as why the film’s six heroes are able to corral an invading army of soldiers on hover-chariots and giant, flying, armored space worms. Once we know where each of the heroes will be, and what they will be doing, crosscutting back and forth between them is not confusing, nor is the way in which they communicate with each other (although the cohesiveness of the heroes’ plans does not make the invaders’ plan of attack any clearer, beyond “destroy cars and create fireballs”). Additionally, Captain America’s orders have the added bonus of clearly delineating the strengths of each of the superheroes, which in turn further supports the clarity of subsequent action.

Iron Man, the swiftest and most mobile of the bunch, is on perimeter duty, and it’s his job to prevent any enemies he faces from escaping a three-block radius. Thor is charged (nyuk nyuk) with using his command of lightning to bottleneck the wormhole that’s transporting the invaders to New York. Hawkeye is perhaps the most crucial of the bunch, as he takes the high ground and serves as a watchtower, picking off the occasional foe, but mostly alerting the other heroes (and viewers) of the status and whereabouts of clusters of invaders, civilians, and each of the heroes whereabouts in relation to one another. He’s largely the reason that the battle does not become illegible and incredulous – the heroes know where to go and what to do because of his vantage point, and he enables viewers to piece together individual skirmishes into a larger picture of the overall conflict. Black Widow and Captain America hold the center, duking it out with whatever invaders get past Thor, although Black Widow soon takes it upon herself to close the wormhole. And in a funny line, Captain America gives Hulk the only order he can really follow: “Smash.” Effectively, the Hulk functions as a wildcard, running amok throughout the battle, taking out both the human-sized invaders and the giant space worms, and in an extremely crowd-pleasing moment, even giving Loki a brutal thrashing.* Later, he is joined in his rampage by Thor.

However, this battle's impact is not derived solely from our understanding of the role each of these heroes serves; its grace also derives from film style. There are many shots in which we observe one hero battling the invaders, and though camera movement or the use of different spatial planes, another hero enters the frame, either battling their own set of enemies or supporting another hero who is about to be overwhelmed. The most visceral of such shots are those in which the battle is on the move through the air, weaving in, out, and around the buildings of New York. Three of the six characters can more or less fly (Iron Man is a rocket, while Thor and Hulk can leap tall buildings in a single bound, and Black Widow eventually steals a hover-chariot), creating the opportunity for shots in which Hulk or Thor are battling atop the back of a giant space-worm in the middle ground, and where Iron Man swoops into the frame in the foreground, shooting down hover-chariots in pursuit of Black Widow. Combined, all of these factors – our cognizance of the location and role of the heroes, their ability to communicate with and support one another, and the film’s graceful maneuverings between various segments of the action – do an excellent job of conveying the epic scale and scope of this confrontation, and the need for so many heroes of such high caliber to work together to stop it. This battle effective conveys what the Avengers were always meant to do in the comics – meet the challenges any of them would not be able to face alone in their solo titles, while also simultaneously overcoming their own personal shortcomings. As such, it’s a worthy adaptation that far exceeds the quality of any of these heroes’ individual feature films thus far. 

*The film is careful to demonstrate that the Hulk is triggered both by making Banner angry, but also as a sort of autonomic defense system – Banner will transform whenever he is placed in life-threatening situations, even ones of his own devising. However, to put on my nerd glasses for a moment, the film could have been a little clearer in explaining the degree of control to which the Hulk can be subjected. My (somewhat layman) understanding is that he’s like an overpowered toddler: you can give him suggestions and hope the he listens to them (relatively easy to do when his only instruction is to smash things), but that he can also have tantrums and focus his rage on whatever is closest at hand. The former describes the last scene of the film when, he is given free rein to smash, while the latter describes the middle section, where Banner is attacked on board the airship and loses control, and where only Black Widow has the misfortune of being nearby when it happens (fortunately for her, this film also has Thor).

Monday, April 23, 2012

Mad Men, Season 5, Episode 6: “Far Away Places”

This week’s episode had much less hilarious material than last week’s (which I didn't get the opportunity to write about), but was no less fantastic for it. The episode features three stories which occur more or less simultaneously, but which are narrated sequentially, which raises an interesting formal question: Why arrange the order of events so that each of the different stories appears sequentially, rather than crosscutting between them as they occur? One answer could be because it makes more subtle the thematic connections between the various stories. Each story features romantic relationships at different stages, so ordering them sequentially could be a way of showing the lifecycle of romances. Moreover, each also involves characters going on a “trip” of sorts: Peggy gets high; Roger and Jane drop acid, and Don and Megan travel to a Howard Johnson’s (and get “high” on their adrenal glands during another intense fight). However, episodes of Mad Men often create parallels and themes without resorting to temporal backtracking. Theoretically, crosscutting could also work in this one, as it does in others. I think a better answer can be found by examining the content of the stories. Each story is compelling in itself, but each one is also more compelling than the last, and breaking them up might have scuttled the momentum each accumulates.

Monday, April 9, 2012

Mad Men, Season 5, Episode 4: "Mystery Date"

Go Joan! Goodbye Greg! Not only did Joan finally kick Greg to the curb, but she did it in an extremely satisfying manner, airing the grievances of seasons past: his never consulting her on important decisions that affect both of their lives (like his joining the army in the first place, and now deciding to return for another tour), and most importantly, his raping Joan on the floor of Don’s office. “You’re not a good man. You never were, even before we were married. And you know what I’m talking about.” This line had me applauding my television. Greg has always been a selfish, oblivious fool, and he demonstrates it in spades in this episode. After breaking the news about his imminent return to Vietnam, he tells Joan, “I need to store up as much of you as possible,” totally oblivious to Joan’s needs and feelings. Later, at the restaurant, Greg explains his volunteering to go back with one sentence: “They need me.” As in the previous scene, Joan’s reaction shot speaks volumes: what about her needs? However, the show did a good job of selling his desire to return to Vietnam; unlike his career in America, he is actually an important person in Vietnam. We see it in the restaurant in his brief exchange with the enlisted man, and again when Greg and Joan have their final argument later in the episode. Nevertheless, it was wonderfully satisfying to see Joan finally decide to stop deceiving herself about Greg, and to finally apply the strength and severity of her office persona to her home life. Good for her for realizing she doesn’t need this rapist and his perpetual letdowns; I hope the writers have someone more worthy of her in the cards.

Monday, April 2, 2012

Mad Men, Season 5, Episode 3: "Tea Leaves"

Fat Betty! I'm of two minds about Betty's new predicament: 1) It seems kind of out of left field. like the writers didn't know what to do with her this season, and thought, "Let's just put her in a fat suit." It seems a bit hokey. 2) On the other hand, it's some nice karmic comeuppance for her terrible mothering, and provides some further insight into her character by (re)emphasizing that she is perpetually dissatisfied with her life, and is actually happier when she can find something to blame it on. Either way, it’s great that she doesn't understand calories. "Ho hum, well I guess I'll just finish Sally's ice cream." Also, it was great that we got to see Henry’s reaction to Don knowing about Betty’s cancer scare. His disappointment that Betty felt the need to reach out to Don, and couldn’t rely on Henry’s support alone, is almost palpable. Once again, I find Henry to be a very sympathetic character.