F I N A L L Y a show that goes beyond cosmetic diversity to actually explore the intersectional experiences of people who embody multiple marginalized identities. Sex Education take note!
I feel like this show is if Sex Education and Euphoria had a baby - a little bit wholesome, a little bit gritty. Love that it feels less exploitative than Euphoria while still tackling tough issues.
Huge fan, highly recommend 10/10
Even if the show came across as cringey at points I'm really glad of the representation here. As someone who had autism themselves I felt like I could relate to a lot of what Sam went through. I couldn't relate to it all but everyone on the spectrum displays things differently but Sam was definitely a great main character and the actor portrayed him well. I can't wait to see what the fourth and final season brings as a conclusion.
Such a sharp comedy! Those dialogues are amazing. Even the children's lines are on point. It's so refreshing seeing a queer character being a deep, multifaceted person instead of just a pile of running gay jokes or the story of a victim. Simply wow.
The husband is too good to be true.
Rogen and Byrne have great chemistry together.
I can’t stand Seth’s outfits.
(Initial Impression). Why is this a half-hour show? This is not your typical SitCom, it has heart! This is comedy mimicking drama (THIS IS US, A MILLION LITTLE THINGS, THE VILLAGE). Walton Goggins is a very fine dramatic actor, so his slip into comedy has both depth and pace. I like the premise (as long as it doesn't end up being a shag-of-the-week show). There is a solid supporting cast and I really like the dynamics between the three families. I think I'm going to like this. I give this an optimistic 8 (great potential) out of 10. [SitCom with heart]
It's an ok show.
For my taste, it was too much like a parody sometimes. Lots of clichés and stereotypes, lots of over the top (quite frankly not very good) acting, lots of dumb jokes.
In this same quick, comedic style, Younger is a much better show. And fashion wise, I'd stick with The Bold Type, or even the timeless Devil Wears Prada.
The potential was there, but the execution was sloppy. I hope they get better writers if it gets picked up for a second season.
[HBO Max] Technically compelling, so elaborate that it sometimes loses focus on the narrative in favor of the visual. The problem is that it doesn't bring anything particularly new to the Shaquille O'Neal story, not unlike that of other NBA stars, and it can't avoid perpetuating the culture of machismo, money and fame as the only relevant objectives in the world of sport. It is a hagiography of the protagonist, emphasizing his humanitarian work (as if he were not forced by his popular relevance) and devoting ten seconds to discussing his inability to be a husband and father.
Has the best representation of what it's like living with Autism in any show I've ever seen, Quinni is incredible :blue_heart:
Station Eleven rewards patience, but that's a big ask for the cellphone / social media generation. Story progression within an episode is sluggish and it requires an alert mind to notice the important little things you'll probably miss if you're feeling bored. Throw Lost and The Leftovers in a blender, add a very mild hallucinogen, mix well, and pour out a nice glass of Station Eleven. Enjoy, but drink slowly. The taste is subtle, but the kick will be stronger than you think.
I’ve only had Johanna Constantine for 40 minutes but if anything happens to her I’ll kill everyone in this room and then myself
So nice to have Jenna Coleman back on my screen again. This was my favorite episode so far.
I really liked this show. I wish I had known as much about myself at that age as some of the characters. Best Aussie drama I've seen in ages.
I didn't fit in for different reasons, but really related to the show. I was only diagnosed with ADHD after high school, and autism in my 40's.
A brilliant continuation of one of 2018's best movies, wickedly smart, clever and tonally just right - a hangout TV show if there ever was one. Might just be even better than the film.
Men writing about women empowerment, almost a throw up! A 6 only for the girls, Lali I love you so much :heart:
[8.0/10] I both like and hate what this episode’s doing.
I like and hate it at the same time because it’s yet another self-induced tragedy from BoJack. He does the softball interview with the flattering reporter. He admits to his most serious misdeeds in public, but couches them in enough talk of remorse and addiction that he comes off looking good, maybe even great.
He’s fawned over in public again. He’s waved at by adoring fans. He doesn't have to pay for coffee. In short, he’s receiving adoration and attention again, and being BoJack, he wants more. So he can’t leave well enough alone. He has to go back on the same show for a second night of admissions, and the implication is that it’s the beginning of his downfall. He just couldn’t leave well-enough alone. He had to grandstand, and it’s likely to destroy him.
It’s sad, because Bojack seemed so close to turning a corner. You’re happy for him in some ways that he’s getting a second chance to live a good life and be a good person. You hate that he shoots himself in the foot.
But there’s also a part of it that’s good. We like BoJack. We want him to succeed. He’s our protagonist and we understand him. He’s also done some terrible shit, shit that he deserves to face the music for. We know the causes of that terrible behavior are complex, but we also know that he’s hurt a lot of people, and seeing him be able to skate on by with the same “I’m sorry, I’ve changed” rhetoric that puts off Diane and Todd isn’t a good thing.
I kind of hate the way that the reporter treats Bojack. The episode sets up a Frost/Nixon-esque wake-up call from Paige to the softball reporter, to get her to play hardball, and it makes for a tense scene. Biscuits blindsides BoJack. She asks him the hardest questions one-after-another without him being able to think them through. She paints the most unflattering portrait she can. She takes certain events out of context. She picks the worst moments of his life and tries to connect them in ways that, at times, at least seem unfair. Emotionally, I hate seeing a protagonist whose struggle the audience has come to empathize with treated so brusquely.
I also hate the way BoJack responds to all of it. I hate the way he throws Sharona under the bus for Sarah Lynn’s first taste of alcohol. I hate the way he hurts Princess Carolyn by saying he never loved the women he’s been with so soon after she tells him she’s standing by him because he’s her great love. I hate the way he retreats to his old standards of minimizing and deflecting and blaming everyone but himself.
But most of all, I hate that Biscuits (and by extension, Paige) is right. It’s a stretch to say that, through the events we’ve seen at least, BoJack gets off on having power over the almost exclusively younger women he dates and pursues. It feels like revisionist history to say that’s what motivates him. And yet, it’s entirely fair to say that BoJack is someone who has power over people, many of them women, and who uses and abuses it without thinking. BoJack is not the deliberate monster that Biscuits’s interview technique paints him as, but he is, assuredly, an oblivious monster.
BoJack didn’t hurt Sarah Lynn or Princess Carolyn or Penny or Gina or others who possessed less power than he did intentionally. He did it selfishly, because he only cared about what he wanted, and didn’t consider whether and how that could override what they wanted, that however consensual some of those situations were, there we imbalances which cast a shadow over every choice he and they made, and it’s the type of imbalance that BoJack never paid heed to. The result is a score of people who’ve been hurt and broken in his wake, including the people closest to him.
BoJack seems to know, after PC’s admonition, that this is now something of a last meal for him, that the three hours before the story hits are his last chance to enjoy the admiration and respect that caused him to go back on camera before he becomes a pariah. So he goes to a comedy club where Kaz once set him up. A chance encounter lets him reflect on the joy he used to bring to people. And he goes up in front of people and makes them laugh, able to appear like this in public, unencumbered and even loved, for what may be the last time.
It’s a tough pill to swallow. But I like it for the same reason that Diane seems to. When presented with this list of misdeeds, this pattern of taking advantage of his power whether he knows it or not, of the outline of the person his actions have created, Biscuits asks if it fits him. BoJack says yes. For all his deflection, for all his ill-conceived, on-the-spot arguments to the contrary, for once he says that however much he may quibble with the details and claim that he’s turned the page, that picture she paints is assuredly of him.
There’s an irony there. The BoJack we see is, perhaps, truly different, willing to accept responsibility and capable of understanding the types of harms he’s caused to the point that he will internalize and publicly acknowledge them. Diane’s raised eyebrow signifies that this is a man (er, horse) who has genuinely changed, genuinely accepted what he’s done and more importantly, who he was and is. And yet, the thing that finally raises him in the esteem of one of his closest friends, may also be the thing that utterly sinks him as a public figure.
I love that and I hate it. I love it because it’s a marriage of true, hard-fought change emerging, with the attendant costs that make it earned. And I hate it because however Biscuits may caricature the picture in places, the one she sketches of BoJack is accurate, and it’s hard to look at, for BoJack and for us, however much he’s earned this comeuppance with bad decisions past and recent.