Denis Villenueve. A solid lineup. A different take on first contact. I loved Sicario but went in expecting a cerebral epic sci-fi.
That was a mistake.
Good things:
- Some really nice visual scenes
- Interesting aliens Calligraphy aliens!
- Clear theme of communication is omnipresent
- A neat score that might be awesome in a different movie
Bad things:
- The acting
- The lack of emotional reaction to ALIENS! The students asking to turn on the TV, all of the main characters
- Lack of useful characters Only the aliens and Louise actually did anything the entire movie.
- Supporting characters are very stupid in an attempt to foil the main character slightly
- Very clumsy exposition. Genre-typical news reports, voice-overs, dumb characters asking stupid questions.
- Very slow pacing. This worked in parts of Sicario, but didn't work in this movie because there was no tension. The main characters never seemed remotely threatened.
- Lousie showing up at school thinking everyone will be there after aliens arrive and there's a state of emergency
- Why can't you translate alien language like you can translate Farsi. This is a paraphrase but in the spirit of what Colonel Weber was saying.
- Useless love interest when the costars have no chemistry.
- Ultrasecure military base lets someone steal a ton of explosives and put it in an ALIEN SPACECRAFT without anyone noticing.
- Many unbelievable plot points
- Poor dialogue Let's make a baby - real quote
- Poor handling of the major plot points Looking through time seems to undermine the fact that the aliens need help. Why did one have to die if they could see the future? Why did only one die when they were right next to each other?
- Very heavy handed moral messaging that didn't align with the rest of the movie.
- Why couldn't Ian also see into the future as he studied the language, or any of the others?
Overall extremely disappointing. I'm honestly surprised critics or general moviegoers like this. The premise was very good. It's a real shame the execution failed so miserably.
[8.6/10] The opening of “Slip” is a little more direct than episodes of Better Call Saul tend to be, as it fills in some gaps Jimmy’s backstory and perspective. When pressed by Marco about Jimmy’s parents’ shop, about how they worked hard and everyone liked them, Jimmy admits it’s true, but questions the value of it. He declares that it got them nowhere, and characterizes his own dad as a sucker.
Jimmy’s philosophy becomes a little clearer, snapping into place with the flashback to his youth. His dad was someone who refused to bend the rules, who wouldn’t take even so much as a valuable coin for himself, who wouldn’t sell cigarettes to the kids from the local religious school to make ends meet, and in Jimmy’s eyes, that got him nothing. It’s a little too tidy and pat, but Jimmy sums it up nicely -- Papa McGill wasn’t willing to “do what he had to do,” and Jimmy definitely is.
That’s the thrust of “Slip,” which is as much an ensemble piece as any episode of Better Call Saul so far. Jimmy, Mike, Chuck, Kim, and Nacho are willing to go the extra mile, to do the difficult thing, not because they want to, but because they believe it needs to be done. It’s what unites those disparate individuals and their different challenges here. Each of them strains a little more, goes a little farther, in the name of biting the bullet and doing what needs doing.
For Jimmy, that means going back to his old ways. What’s interesting is that Jimmy tries to be good here. He tries to build on the success of his first ad with the owners of the music shop, and all they do is try to squeeze him. Granted, it’s Jimmy, so he’s probably inflating costs a bit, but still, the episode sets them up as jerks, and Jimmy as at the end of the rope. So hey lays out a drumstick, asks them one more time if they’re committed to not paying him what they originally agreed to, and then he intentionally takes a painful looking spill in their store to get leverage. Look out, Slippin’ Jimmy is back.
He also returns to his huckstering to get back at this community service supervisor and make a little scratch in the process. His big show of a potential lawsuit and deal with a fellow worker grow a little farfetched in terms of persuading the grumpy supervisor who eventually gives in, but the purpose of these scenes is clear. Jimmy tried doing things his parents’ way, the good way, and the only thing it got him was an empty bank account. Now, he’s back to taking the (literally) painful, less-than-savory steps that ensure he has enough money to hold up his end of the bargain with Kim.
But Kim’s willing to go the extra mile too. When Jimmy offers her the money, she obliquely hints at the idea that he might need time to regroup, that she’s willing to carry the load for the two of them for a little while. It’s not entirely clear whether she’s worried he’ll return to conning people full time and wants to alleviate the financial incentives to do so, or she’s simply concerned that whatever his assurances, unreliable Jimmy may not be able to come up with his end on a monthly basis without his legal practice. Either way, she takes on a new client, one where she already seems pretty slammed, to make sure that they’ll be able to make ends meet, with or without Jimmy’s contributions.
The Mesa Verde head honcho refers that client to her at a lunch meeting, where she just so happens to run into Howard. Howard, ever the politician, is plastically cordial, but Kim, unlike her beau, still has pangs of guilt and offers him a refund on the law school tuition he put up for her. Howard, letting the scales fall for the first time in a while, reveals that he too is working overtime, having to reassure scores of clients after the incident with Chuck gets out. Kim’s willing to take the (figuratively) painful step of handing over $14,000 dollars to assuage her conscience, and Howard is out there hustling to preserve his firm’s good name after his partner’s public breakdown.
But some good seems to have come out of it. Chuck is back with his doctor and (self-)reportedly making great progress. He may be overestimating himself a little bit, but he’s pushing through his exposure therapy and accepting that his illness is a mental not physical one. When Dr. Cruz warns him about taking it easy and not setting his expectations too high, he remains optimistic, anxious to get better.
In a tremendous sequence, without a word of exposition, “Slip” suggests that Chuck might overexert himself in this effort. He’s using the coping techniques the doctor suggested for him when standing in front of the blaring fluorescent lights of the grocery story. He lists the colors and objects he sees, taking his focus away from the pain. Director Adam Bernstein uses the tools in his toolbox to underscore the severity of what walking through the freezer case does to Chuck, the zooms, the noise, the vertigo of it all. It seems like Chuck has pushed himself too far, that he’s about to suffer another attack
But when we see Chuck later, he has the groceries and is no worse for wear. These things are difficult for him, painful for him, but he is ready and willing to push, to take that damn step, in the same of what he wants to achieve.
The same is true of Mike, who is clearly still haunted by Anita’s story from the prior episode of her husband dying in the woods without anyone ever finding the body. He digs and digs in the New Mexico desert, metal-detector in hand, until he finds where the unfortunate Good Samaritan was buried by the cartel. He calls it in anonymously, presumably in the hopes of ensuring that another family won’t have to go through the uncertainty that Anita did.
But he’s worried about leaving his own family in a state of uncertainty too. He still has his cash from his various extra-curricular activities, but he’s worried about how he could get it to his family should something happen to him. So he goes to Gus Fring, in the hopes Gus can help him launder it. It’s a scene that shows the two men’s growing mutual respect. The meaningful handshake that closes the episode (along with Gus turning down Mike’s offer of 20% to launder it) signifies the ways that their values are the same. They are both smart, decent men who get mixed up in indecent things, and they’re willing to do what it takes to make that work.
That just leaves Nacho, who has what is possibly the most difficult task of all. What I love about this series of scenes is the way they show how meticulous, how careful, how deliberate Nacho is about all of his. There is nobility in Nacho wanting to protect his father from Hector, but he is not in any way reckless about it.
Instead, he does the legwork, he takes the extra steps that will make his operation successful. He is delicate and careful as he grinds the poison into dust and fills the lookalike pills under a magnifying glass. He practices, over and over again, the act of palming the pill bottle and depositing it into a coat pocket, so that when the moment comes, it will be second nature. And he even goes so far as to climb onto the top of the restaurant that serves as Hector’s headquarters the night before, messing up the air conditioner so that Hector will have a reason to take off his jacket.
The subsequent scene where he actually makes the switch is masterful. “Slip” holds the tension of each step in the process: from the would-be fake bill, to the probing of the wrong pocket, to the pill switcheroo, to that grand moment of truth where Nacho has to make the move he rehearsed so many times and land the pill bottle into Hector’s jacket without him realizing. It’s a great outing for Michael Mando, who conveys the way that Nacho is trying to exhibit a practiced, casual calm, but inside is anxious beyond words. His deep exhale and clenched fingers in the back after it’s all done says everything.
Each of the tasks taken up by the main characters in this episode -- planting poison pills, finding a dead body, braving the height of your illness, taking on extra work, and even breaking your own back -- require something extra, more sacrifice, more pain, more difficulty. But when something important is at stake -- your livelihood, your well-being, or your family -- the major figures of Better Call Saul are the type of people who face that head on and take whatever measures the situation requires, even if that means drastically different things for each of them. Those steps are painful, tense, and even dangerous, but for better or ill, Jimmy McGill and the people in his orbit, are the people who do what they need to do.
Your own enjoyment of this new show might depend on your own love for 1990s Star Trek, and whether or not you find Seth MacFarlane funny. Fortunately for me, I'm a big fan of both and the first episode of The Orville was delightful fun. It's an homage to The Next Generation's style and storytelling, with an added comedy element (which isn't as overpowering as the trailers made it seem). The jokes were all pretty funny, too, but I'd probably have laughed more if the trailer hadn't spoiled all of them beforehand.
I like pretty much all of the characters, and it seems well cast - at this point we don't really know much about anyone beyond the captain, his ex-wife and his helmsman friend (I'm still learning names!), but I can see a lot of potential.
It looks great - if oddly empty - with some lovely special effects and an attention to visual details (views through windows, engine damage) that was never seen in Star Trek, most likely because the technical capabilities and budget wouldn't really have allowed for it back then.
It's even got the fade-to-black advert breaks at dramatic moments! It feels like years since I've seen that. I'm looking forward to seeing where this is going, and I think it's got a lot of heart. Unfortunately, this is a Fox sci-fi show and I'm completely expecting it to be cancelled.
Contains major spoilers !!!!!
Huge and utterly dissapointing. After TFA I said this movie would make or break the story. For me it broke.
Where to begin? Let´s start with my biggest problem.
After that rebel cruisers bridge was hit and Leia was thrown into space we saw her drifting in the cold empty vacuum of space. This was a powerful scene and I had tears welling up in my eyes thinking that would be a great ending for the character dying how she always lived. Fighting. I did not realise, or care, that it would have been a huge coincidence had they written this scene at that point not knowing Carrie would pass away. But as I said powerful scene. And then she opens her eyes and floated back into the ship still beeing alive. At that point I was seriously considering leaving the cinema. It´s scifi but, please, without as much as a hint of an explanation that is just awful writing. It is Disney all over it. Anyway I stayed and watched the rest but in general I was done with the movie.
There are tons of other things I didn´t like.
way to much unnessesary and stupid humor. Most of the time it does not fit and just destroys scenes. Holding for General Hux - that might have been OK once but two or three times it just becomes goofy. And there is more of this througout the movie.
the writing was all over the place. So much things going on that do little to nothing for the general plot and just add playtime. Like that whole thing with the codebreaker, going to the casino. Just sugarcoating CGI.
and speaking of playtime - way too long. About five times towards the end I thought it was over. It could have ended when the reached the rebel base- no let´s add another battle. When they realised they where trapped. With Luke going out to face Kylo. At some point I would have been OK with the movie ending with the First Order defeating the rebels, everyone dying, and the franchise done with. But of course that is not happening and the movie ends.....no, just show us a kid with a broom looking at the stars and indicate he could be the hero of a future movie.
in many ways the continuation of storylines is not satisfiying. They introduce Snoke in the first movie without an explanation who he is, where he comes from and how he got there. Would have been OK, could have done later. So now he´s dead without so much as a fight and there are questions left to be answered.
what about Rey ? Are we really to believe her parents were some drunk and drifting scavengers that sold her for money like Ren said ? That would be very stupid because how in the universe could she master the Force in ways even the best Jedis or Sith couldn´t without as much as years of training. Another void in the storytelling.
too many, shall I call them, homage scenes ? A lot of times I felt I had already seen this movie. The scene in the throne room f.e. Snoke = Emperor, Rey = Luke, Ben = Vader, the destruction of the rebel fleet playing in the background and the Ben killing Snoke is like Vader killing the Emperor. I know that was said about TFA as well but I feel it´s much worse here. The Battle of Hoth reviseted would be another thing where they re-did some scenes to a T. All that was left was tow cables.
Those are just some examples of the things I disliked and maybe there could be satisfactory explanation later. There is a lot more but it would take too much time to write it down. But I doubt I will go to the cinema for the next one.
To be fair there where some positives in this movie.
I liked the scenes with Rey and Luke althought they did not really lead anywhere. But some nice insights into Lukes story after ROTJ.
The conversations between Kylo and Rey where very interesting and I thought there was really potential to steer the story to something new and exciting. Not happening.
So overall I was not satisfied. I really like TFA, it built some expectations that where all crushed with this. As far as I am concerned I am done with this new story. I am not not very eager to find out what else the canibalise and how they try to write themselves out of this. There is nothing left.
This is my view of the movie. If you liked it I´m happy for you.
May the Force be with us. Always.
So obviously, I had to see Lady Bird being the RT/MC snob that I am with a weakness for these independent films. Since it had a 100% RT fresh and 94% MC rating, I had to see what was all the fuss. I definitely enjoyed the film quite a bit and it definitely hit home with a lot of the emotional life situations the protagonist Lady Bird goes/stumbles through (even though I'm a guy). Saoirse Ronan has always been one of my favorite actresses and she kills it here. Her chemistry with Laurie Metcalf, who plays her tough loving and, at times, overly critical mother is fantastic and their relationship forms one of the major cruxes of the film.
The story is essentially about a girl learning (the hard way many times) what is truly important to her in this world (and, more specifically, in the town of Sacramento) and realizing to not take for granted what she has even though she is coming from an unideal situation. However, this theme is explored in a funny, witty and non-pretentious manner to the viewer that allows you to really relate and sympathize with the protagonist (while chuckling along as well). So many times, I was like "ohhhh man, that is just not a good decision, but I totally did the same stupid thing when I was younger..." moments that just really resonated with me throughout. It's a coming-of-age story that really progresses the protagonist but by using what seems like "common and mundane" life events that we've all undoubtedly experienced before at one point of our lives. They took a lot of cliche coming-of-age scenarios (gay boyfriend, going to a Catholic school, confronted by a nun, etc) but put a nice and realistic spin on them different from other movies. This relatability is what really sold the film for me.
In a short time, the viewer experiences a profound yet truly realistic and believable transformation of the protagonist, Lady Bird. I am reminded of another movie, The Edge of Seventeen, that I watched last year and didn't really enjoy or connect with, where the main female character undergoes a similar "journey", but I felt like I could connect (and, thus, sympathize) far more with Saoirse Ronan's complicated and stumbling character than Hailee Steinfeld's edgey for-the-sake-of-being-edgey interpretation of her protagonist.
Anyway, I really enjoyed this movie, and highly recommend giving it a shot. I think that it will really resonate with viewers who have experienced some financial and social difficulties at some point in life, and have gone through the embarrassing pains and those seemingly obvious and avoidable mistakes when trying to "grow up".
[7.8/10] It’s occasionally hard to know how to unpack an episode of Rick and Morty. The show has so many layers to it, of irony, of parody, of character, of story, of theme, that’s hard to separate each into discrete groups and consider what exactly the episode is trying to say. I consider it a feature, not a bug, but it does sometimes make the show hard to write about.
That said, there’s a few things (I think) we can take away from the episode. The first is that, as evidenced by this episode and the series finale of Community, Dan Harmon does not particularly care for The Avengers and its related films, now the baby of his old friends The Russo Brothers. “Vindicators 3” does a nice job of parodying these films with the Vindicators themselves, poking fun at oddly specific or impractical problems with convenient or unnecessary solutions, and through Rick more directly commenting on them.
The show has fun playing around with colorful superheroes and mixing them into R&M’s sad sack world where people more readily die and friends and families are more apt to turn on one another than be united by the latest adventure. Bringing in Gillian Jacobs certainly helps the proceedings, and the escalation as the heroes keep getting picked off in Drunk Rick’s amusing Saw-like series of death rooms fits the weird creativity of the show.
Now I’m a fan of the MCU movies, so I’ll admit to bristling a bit at the criticisms of the episode, but I also think that’s kind of the point. The mouthpiece of the show (and to some degree, it’s creators) is Rick, and while Rick rails away at the formulaicness and lack of complication to the Vindicators (and by extension, The Avengers), the show also acknowledges that everybody loves them and hates him, and that it’s not unfounded.
One thing I appreciate about this season of Rick and Morty is how the show’s been committed to exploring its protagonist as a bad guy, and filter it through the lens of the people around him coming to realize that. Morty is his companion through all this excitement (and his sandwich shop punch card to pick an adventure is a nice touch) and seeing Rick not only rain on his parade and excitement about working with The Vindicators, but realize that his grandfather is the one keeping him from more of these sorts of adventures, that he’s being treated as guilty by association, is a very interesting tack.
Hell, I love the fake out of this one, where the group supposes that Morty is the only thing Rick thinks is worthwhile about The Vindicators, and the episode plays up a tearful drunken confession, only to reveal that it’s Noob Noob, the Mr. Poopybutthole-esque underling at The Vindicators’ base, whom Rick was blubbering about. More and more, we’re getting indications that Morty’s questioning how much his grandfather cares about him, how much he wants this insane man to be in his life anymore, and I’m more more and intrigued by it.
Of course, the whole thing naturally (and amusingly) ends with a big party and a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles style rap about the heroes, but the scars are still there. As much as Rick derides The Vindicators (and by extension the du jour superhero movies) as insignificant relative to him and what he can do, they’re something that other people appreciate, something that makes him seem less uniquely brilliant and superlative, and maybe that’s what really bothers him. Rick is the type who always has to kick over someone else’s sandcastle, and Morty’s starting to realize he’s tired of it.
Ah, The Americans. What a ride we've had. Simultaneously an exquisitely rich series with superb acting while also being a directionless slog for large periods. When it was good it was top-drawer TV, but it always felt like a show that was lacking in behind-the-scenes navigation. The amount of dead ends, unimportant characters and entire plots which went nowhere far outweighed the intense drama of the core story: Philip and Elizabeth, and their family.
I recognise the hyperbole in saying this, but you could almost watch nothing but the first episode of season 1 followed by this finale and not really miss out on all that much. The status quo set up in the pilot episode had very few changes along the series run, with the only truly big event being Paige discovering what her parent's were doing. I thought we were going to be in for a thrill ride after that happened, but it was quite the opposite. The fact that I was more interested in the fate of Philip's travel agency than in any of the spy work says it all.
There is a lot more to it of course, not least the emotional journey the show took us on. This series finale delivered the emotional moments needed and gave us some truly heartbreaking moments as the story of the Jennings came to an end, and they lost their children while regaining their home. The garage scene with Stan was one of the most intense things the show ever did, and the final phone call with Henry had me in floods of tears. But for me, the finale failed to deliver all that much from a narrative perspective. There is no conclusion here, almost all plot threads are left dangling (Henry? Paige? Stan? Martha? Oleg? Renee? Claudia? Oleg's family? Philip's Russian son? The mail robot??? What about the travel agency?! We'll never know.)
I find myself torn between satisfaction and disappointment. I felt that the show has been largely going in the wrong direction since season 4 (that is to say, no direction at all). Circular plots went round and round again, Philip and Elizabeth grew more and more apart as the work drained them. Characters and plots kept being introduced with no bearing on what was truly important to the show's core.
I feel very let down that the show decided to leave everything until the last episode. The amount of great story opportunities concerning Paige and Stan that could have happened over the past few seasons but never did is overwhelming. As it stands, this last season of The Americans managed to go out on a higher note than I had expected but it feels to me like a show that will not be remembered as one of the TV greats (it never helped that the UK broadcast was put on an obscure channel in the early hours of the morning), but provided characters that will stick with me for a long time.
I came here to write a review on how great the season ended. I was, however, sadly made aware that this was the series finale as well. I started watching the show since it release three years ago. Over the three seasons you've seen the two main characters (Mickey and Gus) change. Sometimes for the best, others for the worst.
With the way this season felt, the creators had no indication that this would be their last; this is shown through the few character plots that were left open-ended. However, despite this - i feel we were able to see something of a ending. What we learned over our time with Mickey and Gus is that LOVE isn't easy. There is no cupid that shoots an arrow, that results in everything becoming great from there on out. Ney! The opposite. LOVE brings ups and downs. But! Most importantly, LOVE for Mickey and Gus brought out a better versions of themselves. Especially Mickey - and this season, we got a glimpse into Gus changing.
This series has brought me to tears a handful of times. Not many shows can do that. There has to be a connection, something that the viewer can relate to that allows for them open up emotionally. I'm saddened that the series is done, but i'm glad to have known it for as it was, when it was. Thanks!
[7.6/10] I hadn’t seen Dead Poet Society in full the first couple of times I saw this episode, which added a new layer of appreciation to this one (especially when Jeff yells “this is no way to teach accounting!”) John Michael Higgins doing his best Robin Williams riff, while Jeff struggles at the ultimate blow-off class was largely a hoot, even if the ending veers into some corny will they/won’t they territory that often makes me roll my eyes in the show’s first season.
The only issue is that it doesn’t cross-pollinate well with the episode’s other major story, where Britta pays for Abed’s film class against Abed’s dad’s wishes. The tack of making Jeff and Britta Abed’s surrogate parents runs out of gas a little too soon, but I really like where the story goes. Abed subtly tormenting his friends who are trying to help him because of a single-minded focus on his creative project has seeds of things to come. His film conveying his insecurity about maybe having broken up his parents’ marriage is actually pretty sad and touching in its way. And the way Mr. Nadir turns around after realizing that film helps Abed, who has trouble communicating, to express himself, is really well done.
The C-story sees Pierce coaching Troy up on how to sneeze like a man, and it’s pretty forgettable and light on laughs, but also so brief as to be inoffensive.
Overall, a funny episode that give us a lot of good Abed character development.
[8.4/10] My first (semi) live IASIP premiere! Huzzah!
Like everyone, I wondered how the show was going to deal with Dennis’ absence, but I probably should have expected what we got, a delightfully meta riff on what the absence of an essential character means, replete with boatloads of raunch and comedic takes on co-dependence and remaining static.
Maybe that’s a little high-falutin for a show as juvenile as IASIP, but I don’t think so. Especially as this show has gotten older, it’s gotten more ambitious, and dare I say deeper, even as it slings episodes where people play a sex doll like a tuba.
I think my favorite thing in the episode is how it explores the ways in which The Gang is fixated and dependent on Dennis as an ingredient in their group, while being blind to the ways in which he holds them all back. It’s striking how better situated and successful everyone seems to be with Dennis gone and with Cindy (Mindy Kalig, ably taking part in the show’s particular banter) calling the shots. The plans are better formulated, there’s more positivity, and everyone seems do be doing well overall.
Everyone except Mac, that is. I appreciated the tack where Mac, most of all, is still fixated on Dennis, and without his sexuality to repress, he’s now just repressing his crush on Dennis, replete with a lifelike and disturbing sex doll. The meta humor of Charlie and Dee assuring Cindy that no one knows why Mac does what he does (probably just a cry for help or attention) and to ignore it and move on was well done in that vein.
But Mac gets The Gang stuck on the “Dennis-shaped hole” in their lives in the same way that Mac does. The bell tolling as the camera zooms in on the unnerving face of the Dennis-esque sex doll is a great running gag, and I like how the episode uses it. Dee is feeling self-confident, Mac is proud of his body, and Frank and Charlie are competently executing (and appreciating) the plan for once, only for them to hear Dennis’s negging and have it still bring them down.
It’s a frickin’ neurosis, and the show uses it both for humor and for its dark character explorations. The way everyone instantly regresses, and falls back into old habits is well done. I even like how they tie things in with The Waitress, using the whole “absence” thing to tie into Charlie never wanting to talk to her and then tying that into her hearing the Dennis doll too, showing that he’s burrowed into everyone’s brains. Community’s pulled the same trick (and with a similar, albeit more network-friendly version of the same archetype), but it still works in IASIP’s more sophomoric setting.
And I like how the show turns that into a miniature referendum on whether the show itself will evolve (which it has, despite maintaining much of the same style and humor) or whether it will remain the same, reuse the same ryhthms, and so on. It’s not the first time the show’s tackled this sort of thing, but it does it well here, with Cindy representing change and something new, and a surprise return from Dennis himself representing the comforting but sclerotic business as usual.
Of course, this is The Gang, so they go with the easy and familiar. Dennis returns, the status quo is maintained, and with it, the rest of the group are doomed to confidence-shattering insults and failure once more. There’s something implicit in that -- the show kind of admitting that it’s not inclined to evolve or get better in a self-aware but kind of cynical way -- but then again, maybe they know that those familiar rhythms are part of what we love about the show, even if tired bird jokes start to grow thin for both writer and audience. Either way, it’s good to have IASIP back.
9.5/10. I have never seen Glee, so a lot of the direct parody was over my head, but this is such an enjoyable episode. Having the show's X-mas episode turn into a cross between Glee and Invasion of the Body Snatchers was an inspired choice that both makes the holiday-themed story both distinct and gives it a direction as the episode progresses.
The songs themselves were unique and each had their own shade of humor. The two stand outs in my opinion were Annie's (in a perfect parody of the weirdness of songs like "Santa Baby"), and Shirley's (which perfectly seized on her character's achilles' heel). But the episode had lots of great Community wordplay ("well-documented historical vanity" is just a hilarious phrase in and of itself), and ridiculous moments like Britta "singing her heart's song." Everyone in the cast was on point. If I have one small nit, it's that Taran Killam occasionally went a little too broad in his performance for my tastes, but he did capture the "bright-eyed psychopath" role well.
Of course, Community being the quality show that it is, still manages to ground the outsized premise in something character-based. Abed wanting to spend the holidays with his friends, and worrying about making things darker when trying to make things brighter, culminates in a heartwarming moment of the gang showing up at his apartment. Sure, it's a bit easy, but it absolutely works as a great capper to tremendously creative and amusing holiday episode.
I'm someone who was loathe to use the Trump name when I heard the first pronouncements after the escalator introduction. I've adopted different monikers to try and stem the tide of his overwhelming influence. I'm more dead inside than the frothiest pundit attempting to explain the exponentially terrible and long term consequences of what his reign will bring. I felt obligated in a kind of cultural accounting to watch The President's Show, despite the sinking and desperate feeling of wishing for it to all be over. I never much cared for when the cartoon version showed up in The Late Show. I understand that there's a whopping mental discord that needs to be contended with even before we pretend we can piece together the extent of the destruction.
All that said, the case for this show is almost too explicit. They are cartoon characters. This could be a dozen different short-lived cartoon shows from MTV or Comedy Central over the years. What made them exist in the first place were chuckle moments or an exploration of a particular pathology. Here, because the cast of characters is so large, you get to see a slightly broader take on each person. It's one thing to hear a dozen renditions of the same joke from late night hosts, it's another to see it transposed into a light-hearted attempt to not choke to death on what all of the real world examples truly mean.
It's not a particularly good or intriguing show on it's own so far (2 eps). It's more of a therapy session and slightly cranked up mockery. But that's almost the point. Where do we go from here but into tyrannical ever-escalating death? If you can't imagine it as a cartoon, how can you much cope with anything coming out of this saga? Consider the wholly uninspired "Donald Trump is the President" end credits song; when you can't parody anymore, you just repeat it over and over in disbelief.
The main strength is that it doesn't solely rest on another 25 minutes of Trump-isms, but there's plenty. The whole party gets to be implicated and you get a sense of the collective absurd psychosis that has taken hold. This is a show that is looking for laughs after you've conceded you're broken and if life can't be a cartoon, at least this can be. I've been unable to find the funny in Trump from the beginning, which I think stems from a deep appreciation for consequences and historical understanding. His idiot cartoon sons or gonzo Ted Cruz don't feel as much an explicit betrayal to the idea of us ever pulling our shit together and taking responsibility for what's really happening, and were hence what got the chuckles from me. Is it also a cynical small-minded cash and attention grab attempt utilizing an ongoing disaster? Probably. Can it serve as a bridge between the monstrosity and one day feeling capable of cleaning it up? Hopefully.
I don't know man. I'd trade this for a second of hope for the future.
[5.4/10] Why do I still watch this show? That’s not a rhetorical question. I’m a firm believer in letting lauded shows find their voice before you give up on them. I absolutely believe that living through a series’s rougher stretches makes you appreciate and enjoy their better stretches more. And I think that over time, you can grow to really like shows that you may have been resistance to at first.
But after 50+ episodes, a show pretty much is what it is. Sure, show’s can get much better or much worse after that point, and some can even blow up the status quo and shift into something different (hello Friday Night Lights!). But once you’re half a c-note into a series, after it’s had four years to hone its voice and decide what it wants to be, the tone, the style, the presentation of a show isn’t going to change much from there.
And I really haven’t liked The League at this point. It’s generally crass without being clever. Its 90% of its characters are unlikable 90% of the time. And its connections to the world of football, both real and fantasy, continue to become more tenuous and contrived. I have given this show chance after chance and only rarely rated it as even a hair above “good” through most of that run.
This episode is a great example of its flaws. This a big wet lump of a finale, with juvenile jokes that give you nothing but broad humor and a fourth grade sensibility without anything resembling layers. There’s the little bit of set up and payoff with Rafi’s women’s self defense course culminating in Baby Jeffrey’s dick punch to Ruxin, but otherwise this is a whole heap of “See! They’re hitting each other in the nuts! It’s hilarious! Andre’s girlfriend is allergic to semen! How wacky! Oh look! Taco made everyone poop! And Rafi’s ejaculating at the same time!”
This is the lowest common denominator of comedy. I am far from above enjoying the particular charms of scatalogical humor, as my appreciation for the likes of South Park and The League’s stablemate, It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia can attest. But this isn’t smart comedy draped in the sophomoric. This is just a bunch of shit and jizz jokes with nothing supporting them beyond the fact that we’re supposed to laugh because shit and jizz are involved. That is the well that this show keeps going back to.
And the group continues to be abjectly awful to one another. Nevermind the “scroat squad” bit, which at least has the spirit of knucklehead camaraderie to it. Rather than having the slightest bit of sympathy for Andre for not being able to conceive a child with a fiancée, or heaven forbid concern for the woman having a severe allergic reaction, everyone not only insults and makes fun of Andre over it, but then they hang onto the pictures of the event happening in the photo booth. That’s on top of the fact that it’s such a contrived setup for Andre and Trixie to do that in the phone booth in the first place.
Hell, even Rafi, who is usually the breath of madman fresh air that livens up this show, was too much for me here. His over the top “ballsyguard” routine went to ridiculous extremes with him going for the nut check while Kevin is roof-surfing on top of the Shiva-mobile. I’m all for T.V. being exaggerated or heightened in comedy, but this is a show that nominally has a tether to reality, and we’re just going for hidden car attacks that lead to people getting into car accidents and coming out unscathed.
Throw in the fact that Taco has somehow unlocked the key to the brown note. (Something, I’ll note, that South Park did better.) Throw in the fact that the show continues to do weird incest/semen donor humor with Sofia. Throw in the fact that the culmination of Pete’s arc with Gina is that he undercuts his own fantasy team over her dating Adrian Peterson, replete with another fawning depiction of an NFL star and another unrealistic excuse to include them in the proceedings. You just have a finale that lands with a thud.
Maybe Shiva really did lay a curse on The League as much as she did The League. There’s promise of something of a fresh start for next season, with name changes and different draft locales and the prospect that we’ll meet another one of the mysterious out of towners. But the fact that Shiva (who really shouldn’t want anything to do with these assholes) has removed her hex doesn't fill me with much hope for whatever the series has to offer in season 5.
So why am I still watching? I don’t really know. It is, at best, a bit of a slog to get through every time. A good number of my good friends like the show, so I suppose there’s a part of me that wants to see what they see in it. Part of what prompted me to watch the show in the first place was catching a random episode at a friend’s house and thinking it was hilarious, so I’m tempted to watch at least until I get to that episode. And there’s also the simple fact that there’s not really another scripted comedy so devoted to the NFL and the ridiculousness of fandom and fantasy football. As a fan of the gridiron, I keep wanting the show to make good on its stellar premise and become a funny reflection of the great but also terrible game that I love.
So now, as we approach Superbowl 53, I am going to take a break. I started this show in September when the NFL season was starting, and so ending it with the close of the season seems right. Maybe seven months away will make me apprecicate coming back to the show in the excitement of a new season. Maybe The League turns a corner in season 5. Maybe my problems with the show will fade in the background and the improvements it showed in season 3 will come to the fore again.
If I was smart, I would probably just dump the series, but like the fan of a bad football team, I still imagine I’ll be back next season, naively thinking that “this might just be our year.”
This is one of the movies that is really hard to rate for me, and I am torn between two sides. On the positives:
I liked the acting of this rather unknown cast. Acting for a normal movie is hard enough, and I believe that musicals are the supreme discipline, as you do not only have to have the ability to be a good actor, but you also need to both, be able to sing and dance and it has to sound good and look good. And here I have to say: They are excellent. All dance choreographies where really challenging, and had really funny ideas that made me smile a number of times. Comparing it to other musicals I have seen in the last year I have to say, those choreographies where even better than those in the beloved La La Land. Those choreographies where also well designed and scripted - for instance take the very first dance choreography in the high school - it is used to convey all the relationships of the different characters and their (hidden) feelings for each other, which I think was really great.
And speaking about great ideas - the entire movie is a absolutely great idea - when did you ever see a Christmas-High-School-Coming-of-Age Musical with Zombies? A really innovative idea, creating something new, which is really hard, in today's movie landscape.
The movie uses a lot of absurd ideas and interesting camera angles (e.g. the burning tire or a few of the deaths) and the humor that is conveyed using these angles was also really good. The movie doesn't take itself serious, there are a number of splatter scenes that are really funny, many things look unrealistic, because they avoid CGI and everything is made of practical effects (and those are simple) but with this I think they pay homage to the stage musical where you don't have CGI and use simple practical effects throughout - and also these things make the movie look even more funny.
And last but not least, the movie has a lot of soul, everybody seems to be really invested into this movie and giving his or her very best. It is a really charming movie.
If I point out that I have found a number of positive aspects that means that unfortunately I also have found some aspects that I consider negative:
Probably the most important one for me: The jokes that they made on purpose in movie where absolutely bad, and I couldn't laugh at any of the dialogues or one liners (e.g. "Oh no" - "What?" - "Justin Bieber is a zombie" - how is that even remotely funny?). I thought most of the jokes where either embarrassing, not funny at all or even annoying. And for me that really harms the movie.
Obviously Shaun of the Dead is an inspiration to this musical and it's even referenced. The parallels however are often really obvious and the problem with that is: Whenever Anna and the Apocalypse "copies" something we already know in Shaun of the Dead the later makes it so much better than this movie does. For instance they use the typical cut technique we know from Edgar Wright (e.g. in Worlds End where they order their beers and a water), but when they do, they do not try to convey a funny moment and therefore it seems unnecessary and wasted (for instance they use it in a random scene where the guys get into a car, which has no funny moment and does not compact something that needs to be shown).
Musicals are called musicals because they have music, and for me, a good musical has a song that captures me and that stays with me even after I've seen the movie for the first time (without rehering the soundtrack, etc.). Take La La Land, for instance. I've just seen that movie once, yet when I read the three words "City of Stars", I have an instant earworm that will stick with me the entire day. The Greatest Showman's "This is me" is equally catchy. With "Anna and the Apocalypse" there is no song that stood with me, no song that stood out, that captivated me, and a few weeks later if you'd play a song from this movie to me, I believe I wouldn't recognize them).
And when it comes to the genre of Zombie movies, this movie does not bring you anything new. And even for Zombie comedies there are a lot of better options to turn to. The only thing unique to this movie is it's setting at Christmas time, but they don't really cash in on the Christmas spirit, so other than the date and the decorations, this movie does not feel like a Christmas movie at all - take classics such as Home Alone, you can see that it is possible to convey a Christmas feeling even though your movie is not really about Christmas but cool action. And here - again - Anna and the Apocalypse falls short.
Last but not least - I am not really a musical fan. It's just not my genre. So convincing me is just as much harder, and in that aspect "La La Land" really did an excellent job, while all of the other current musicals didn't - this one included. I would have loved it to become a Christmas steady, I am always open for good new and unconventional Christmas movies (I feel like there are too few Christmas movies that I actually like - you can fill them into one evening, so I would love to have some additions to that list) but I am not sure if this movie could fill that spot - unfortunately.
Still I have to also honor all the positive aspects that I have mentioned, and I am sure that everyone who enjoys musicals will find this movie a great pick - it's no La La Land, no Shaun of the Dead and no Zombieland - but for a low budget independent movie with an entire cast of new inexperienced actors this movie this is really worth your time, so I would still recommend to give it a chance, and I am sure that it will find its fandom.
Best lines
I’m waiting for an old friend - Bran
You left me for dead - Hound
I also robbed you - Arya
I’ve always had blue eyes! - Tormund
Whatever they want - Dany
but
It had its moments - Sansa
They need wheelchair ramps in Winterfell. They left Bran in the courtyard overnight!
Parallelism between Season 1 Episode 1 and Season 8 Episode 1
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ S08E01 Jon: "Where's Arya?" Sansa: "Lurking somewhere."Foreshadowing (from different Seasons/Episodes.)
01. S03E05“ “Let’s not go back. Let’s stay here a while longer,” Ygritte tells Jon. “I don’t ever want to leave this cave, Jon Snow.” S08E01 “We could stay a thousand years. No one would find us,” Daenerys says to Jon.02. Sam is suggesting rebelling against the Targaryen because they burned his father and brother alive. Similar to when Robert's Rebellion, began when Rhaegar Targaryen, allegedly abducted Robert's betrothed, Lyanna Stark.
[8.4/10] I feel like this episode isn't going to please most people. The critical crowd is going to be annoyed at it for indulging in fan service at times and wrapping a lot of character relationships too quickly. The more casual fan crowd is going to be upset that this episode was full of yakking and sparse on action or narrative momentum. But honestly, I really liked this one. I have to imagine that the next four super-sized episodes are going to be filled to the gils with action and high drama and excitement. In the prelude to that, it's really nice to get a series of quiet moments to reflect on where everyone has been to get to this point, and the uncertainty of the future, amid the other grace notes that "The Rightful Queen" provides.
Those are the two big ideas at the center of the episode. On the one hand, you have this sense of everyone both assuming that they're doomed but worrying about what the future holds. More than one character declares that they're all dead. And yet at the same time, you have Dany and others worrying about who might have a claim to the Iron Throne or some slice of the Seven Kingdoms. You have Tyrion and others worrying about who might become (or remain) Hand to the Queen. And you have everyone from Misandei to Sansa thinking about what the world looks like when this battle is over. There's the sense of an inevitable, mortal threat, but also of concern for where things stand after they've picked up the pieces.
But there's also a sense of marking how long the journey has been to reach this point and how much everyone has changed along it. Arya is grown, with her own skills, directness, and desires that mark a sharp contrast from the aspirational little girl who went with her father to King's Landing. Jaime and Tyrion are both much different men since they were "The Golden Lion" and "The Imp" who previously set foot in Winterfell ("the perils of self-betterment"). Hell, even the likes of Podrick has become a capable warrior (and classy singer to boot.) There's a boatload of taking stock in this episode, of remembering where everyone's been and the distance between here and there.
What's more, there's tons of nice little moments. Lyanna Mormont gets a nice scene with Jorah, Gilly gets a little time to shine, and Edd gets a chance to reunite with his Night's Watch brethren. That's all on top of Tyrion's little gathering by the fire, which makes the most of the hang out vibe this episode summons when the time is right.
All-in-all, this feels like one of those Game of Thrones episodes we'll remember beyond the bigger clashes and contretemps the series usually has in store. It's a slower episode, but one that deepens our understanding of where these characters at psychologically and developmentally after nearly eight seasons, and lets us wonder about what the future holds right alongside them.
So, is it overly feministic? No, it isn't. I'd say Wonder Woman is more so than this film. It holds it's character strongly and does not diverge the audience's views when watching. The undertones are there sure, but it isn't in your face. Just thought I'd get that out of the way because some around me were wondering that themselves.
Carol Danvers is a great addition to the MCU. Not only has the studio thought long and hard about her placement, but also on how they can make her a defining character for our day and age. No doubt that in the future she will grow and see stronger days herself. But for now, we are left with a very fast paced story with Carol herself, not seeming quite right. There is something off about Brie Larson's performance, and I think it's because of the quick cutting of emotional stages she goes through. I know they are making an amnesia story (with a slim amount of tropes I might add!), but for some reason, she can't seem coherent enough in emotional performing to make this character fully likeable. Then again. it's an origin story. The way she is blunt with others is a plus though.
The villain is complicated here. While I'd say one of the better in the MCU. There are some drawbacks to how they interact with Carol. Not much I can say about them. But having a movie set in the past with a big threat like in the 3rd act was kind of stupid in my opinion. No stakes at all.
For the technical side of things, shots were nice. Too much cutting than I would have liked in fight scenes in hand to hand. The final fight was greatly done though. The music didn't stand out much and was unneeded in some scenes that would have benefitted from silence or a more subtle tone rather than an orchestral track. CGI was fairly good. But, Captain Marvel's powers make her look really fake when flying.
Young Nick Fury and Captain Marvel are, of course, the main highlight to take away. Like a buddy cop movie, but with more superpowers and cats. The chemistry between the two was funny and well put together. The final line said by Carol in the mid-credits scene is a nice callback earlier in the film to cement the two.
So yes duh, there is a mid-credits scene and an end-credits scene. But you could leave after the mid-credits. As the final scene is just a cutesy one. But if you want absolutely no spoilers at all and are the type to even avoid trailers for the new Avengers. It may not be the best play to watch the mid-credits.
Captain Marvel is a good introduction to the strong female lead Carol Danvers. A fun journey with a duo I'd love to see more of. As well as more of Carol's flaws in a visual medium, not vocal. It's no Iron Man, but I see a bit of that Tony Stark spark in this promising character.
Second Viewing Update
So after another look because of uncertainty. I can say now that I was frustrated with the lack of actual character build. Before I remarked the amnesia story being an excuse for the lacking of visual storytelling. But now it was getting to me. Carol Danvers deserves better. And I hope in Endgame she gets it. I have faith in the Russos to give her better development. If not, other instalments will hear our cries for giving this amazing promise, flaws. Downgrading my rating a bit as for a movie about this character, it focuses more on her abilities than her as a person.
7.2/10
6.8/10
Check here for my MCU rankings.
https://trakt.tv/users/corruptednoobie/lists/my-mcu-rankings?sort=rank,asc
Just to preface this, I thought A Force Awakens was emotionless trash that undermined the entire purpose of the original three films.
Rogue One was the opposite.
The best thing about this movie was the emotional impact. It underlined the sacrifices made to make the original trilogy possible. Some people have called it long, but that helped build up characters that you actually felt for, and who weren't carbon copy ripoffs (cough cough A Force Awakens). The final scenes as the two main characters face their fate, recognizing that it was worth it, gave such a high emotional payoff. Each major death scene actually made you feel something.
The second best thing was K-2SO. Very funny, and much needed comedic (but not goofy) relief.
The CGI for landscapes and the world creation was outstanding. When I see a movie like Star Wars I want to be amazed and see things that I haven't seen done before. I want to be impressed and drawn into new, beautifully crafted worlds. In this respect, the movie just kept delivering over and over.
The cinematography was great during the action sequences. The sequences looked epic, and the violence and sacrifice felt meaningful. The Vader fight sequence was intense.
It also had interesting ties to current events with its commentary on terrorism/rebellion/weapons of mass destruction. By the way, the science genius character realizing that he isn't priceless in developing some major device is fantastic. All of the movies with "only so-and-so can figure this out" are very disappointing.
The moral message of the movie was also very clear and well delivered.
I really enjoyed the movie overall and thought that it was a big step in the right direction. It was adventurous again, it was sometimes shocking, original, and most of all meaningful. A Force Awakens failed on all of those points. It's good to see a franchise movie that's taking a bit more risk than average. AFA was just like the new Star Trek films, shiny bling low-impact action movies that just happen to be set in space. Rogue One pushes far beyond to show the what drives the Rebellion in a world we know and love.
Despite the fact that I really liked the movie, it had some flaws:
- Tarkin face CGI
- Some of the acting in the first half.
- Tarkin face CGI
- Some of the cuts were really weird and the pacing felt off for portions of the first half.
- Tarkin face CGI
- Forest Whittaker just deciding to die instead of trying to escape.
- Tarkin face CGI
- A few unbelievable plot lines (thankfully most were minor). Like Cassian being sent to kill Galen for almost no reason, and then deciding not to for no reason, and then Jyn forgiving him surprisingly easily. How did she even know that he was trying to kill her father?
- Tarkin face CGI
- Does every Star Wars movie need to have a father character die? Why didn't Cass follow orders when he heartlessly killed someone else in his first scene?
- Tarkin face CGI
- Heavy handed political messaging.
- Tarkin face CGI
- Said "hope" too many times.
- Tarkin face CGI
- You can just push Star Destroyers that easily?
- Tarkin face CGI
- The word "Stardust"
- Tarkin face CGI
- Too many random worlds introduced that you don't have the time to get invested in.
- Tarkin face CGI
- Too much awkward fan service.
- Tarkin face CGI
- Darth Vader's voice sounded off.
- Tarkin face CGI
- Some of the dialogue was really terrible.
- Tarkin face CGI
I do like the show, but it's not Star Trek. If this was just a new sci-fi show that existed in its own universe, it would be incredible. However, the fact that they've tried to pass this off as Star Trek when it's clearly not sullies the experience.
If it wasn't already apparent, Paramount and CBS have no idea what made Star Trek great, and don't care either. The simple explanation is that the world of Star Trek is supposed to be optimistic; this is pessimistic. And I do enjoy pessimistic sci-fi, but there's so much of it, and to see one of the few optimistic sci-fi worlds turned into something pessimistic is a shame.
Fortunately, we now have The Orville, which is doing Star Trek better than anything has since Voyager ended in 2001.
The show is supposed to take place between Enterprise and TOS, but the technology is very different. For example, there are holograms everywhere. Why try to do a prequel again? Why not set this after Voyager? That would make a lot more sense, and they'd be able to add whatever technology they like, and not be constrained by existing continuity. Fortunately, it's not too late for the showrunners to say "hey, we made a mistake, this actually takes place X years after Voyager".
Last, they fucked up the Klingons. For almost 25 years, they had the look of the Klingons figured out perfectly. They're iconic. But this show (and the reboot movies) messed them up and made them look like generic sci-fi bad guys. What happened to their hair and beards? Also, the costumes are ridiculous, and their ship interiors look like they're made of coral. I do like the idea of having an albino Klingon though.
And I applaud their desire to use the Klingon language on the show, but it's pretty annoying having every Klingon scene subtitled. The previous shows used a common sci-fi conceit: the actors speak a language that the audience understands, but it's accepted that they're really speaking a different language. The viewer effectively has a universal translator so they can understand what's being said.
Also, it looks nothing like Star Trek. Once again, The Orville got that right, and this didn't.
All of that said, I do like the show. The characters are interesting (especially Doug Jones), I've enjoyed each episode, and I think the storyline is pretty interesting. But goddamn it, why did they have to try to make this Star Trek when it's not?
[7.7/10] I always enjoyed games like Werewolves, Mafia, and “Secret Hitler” because I think they expose something in us. They’re fun bits of parlor entertainment, but they also show how easy it is to mistake well-intentioned errors for sabotage, to see enemies where there are only friends, and how the same pieces of evidence, of action, can point in two directions at once. They’re party games, sure, but they’re also subtly an exemplar of the failings of human nature.
“Tinker, Tailor, Demon, Spy” is basically one small game of “Werewolves.” A mysterious figure shows up in The Good Place, says his name is Glen from The Bad Place and, more dramatically, declares that the Michael we know and love is really Vicky in a Michael suit (or at least has been for the last few episodes). Michael, of course, professes his innocence. And the catch is that it’s next to impossible to know whom to believe.
That creates real challenges for Eleanor, Tahani, and Jason. On the one hand, Glen gives good answers to our heroes questions, offering a plausible tale about Shawn bullying him, about constructing the Michael suit, and about witnessing signs of sabotage. On the other, Michael gives some suspicious answers, admitting to lying about his knowledge of the Michael suit and about only pretending to have had a mental breakdown forcing Eleanor to take charge, as well as refusing to shed his human skin.
Still he also has some very reasonable and very Michael reasons for these things. He didn’t want to mess up the experiment. He’s a “fire squid” and doesn't want the group to see him differently. He is, well, flawed in plausible ways, and it makes it hard to know who’s telling the truth and who’s the saboteur?
But what if they’re both telling the truth? What if Glen is right that there’s some skullduggery going on, but has the exact terms of it wrong? And what if Michael is being honest about his insecurities and reasons for fibbing to the group. It ties Eleanor in particular in knots, but the truth turns out to be more complicated.
That’s the thing about games like “Mafia” -- it’s easy to get fixated on a decision between one or two potential turncoats, when the real antagonist of the game is someone who hasn’t even entered the discussion. I love the swerve that the real culprit here is Janet, who’s secretly a Bad Janet that’s been undermining the group since the last train. And even better, I love that they figure it out because Jason knows his girlfriend, and realizes that if he called her “girl” she would inevitably correct him that she’s not a girl. It’s a great way to show Jason being both clever and attentive, and a nice way to give him the win.
I also like Eleanor’s part in all of this. It makes sense that she’s be out of sorts over not knowing who to trust. But she not only gets the reassurance that suffering mightily to make the world a little better is the most Chidi thing in the world, something that confirms the man she loves is still there even if he’s forgotten her, but she gets the reassurance that being willing to sacrifice yourself for the good of this group (or at least be turned into a blue blob for several months) is the most Michael thing in the world. In the end, the lie detector is one of knowing the people you care about.
On top of that, there’s some good comedy in the episode. The appearance of Chidi’s frankenstein drawing of Simone’s pony was a big laugh. Jason’s initial interactions with Glen to try to uncover who’s lying were very funny. And Derek showing up to talk about his and Mindy’s sex toys was ribald but amusing.
Overall, this is an episode with a great premise that finds a nice way to take a left turn at the end, give Jason a victory, and vindicate our heroes’ friendships with one another.
Season 3 turned the show around, and I'd go as far as saying that it saved the franchise. A massive change of people behind the scenes resulted in a big shift in tone for the show, and this bled over into every aspect of production. Michael Piller took the reins as what we would now call showrunner, and writers like Ronald D. Moore, René Echevarria and Ira Steven Behr did their first work.
The show became more confident, and made its storytelling far more about the characters than the plots. It looked better, with a more cinematic style and much improved uniforms for the cast. We got to know these people in a far more intimate and relaxed manner than previously, and they each managed to find their own voice. Beverly Crusher was a welcome return.
While it's not a perfect season, it's such an improvement over what came before as to be almost unrecognisable. The first two seasons of the show almost feel like they fit into The Original Series at times with their cardboard planet sets, overly dramatic camera shots and quirky acting. Here, Star Trek: The Next Generation came into its own.
Quite surprisingly, Wesley Crusher becomes quite interesting here. Maybe it's because he wasn't constantly saving the ship and acting like a brat, or maybe it's because they finally gave him some personality. His conversations with his mother are some of the highlights of the season. Data gets a massive amount to do and starts to show that he is capable of very nuanced human behaviours.
The one character who is left behind somewhat is Geordie. The poor guy just never gets developed well, there's not much personality and he doesn't seem to have anything much going on other than his engineering work. His dating attempts are routinely abysmal, and I can't help but think that LeVar Burton deserved better.
Best episodes for me: Yesterday's Enterprise, The Offspring, The Best of Both Worlds (1), Who Watches The Watchers, The Enemy, The Defector, AllegianceWorst episodes for me: The Price, Booby Trap, The Vengeance Factor, The High Ground, A Matter of Perspective, Tin Man
I hope I can watch this again someday, and enjoy it in a different way. But as far as seeing it in the theater goes, it was a mildly enjoyable journey that turned in to an annoying slog, which ultimately culminated in disappointment.
What the fuck Tarantino? No mystery, no comedy, no trademark dialogue, NO STORY! This movie relies on presupposed knowledge too much. I go into movies that I want to see without reading anything about them or watching any trailers. So if the movie takes until the final act to reveal what the mystery even is, and then subverts it within 10 minutes in a ridiculously, unnecessarily violent way, it doesn't make for an enjoyable movie. It was two hours of a red herring (if you know what it's about already), and then a half hour of "Is this movie seriously going to end without tying together any of these useless, boring storylines?"
First act: Tarantino's use of different film stocks, and his decision to start the movie by showing his version of a corny Oldwest show got me very excited for what was to come. During the first act however, he went back to this a bunch of times, and each time it was a little less enjoyable when it only started out as mildly humorous in the first place. the character development, and relationship between Pitt and DiCaprio was fun to watch. Other character development was pretty flat, and the Bruce Lee scene was just dumb. Pretty early in the movie I started to dislike Pitt's character. this obviously would detract me from enjoying him as the pseudo-hero later.
Second act: The Sharon Tate storyline was really starting to get to me. It's been years since I read about the Manson murders, so when I heard her name, I was thinking "that sounds familiar, I think there was something called the Sharon Tate murders. Maybe Brad Pitt is supposed to end up killing her or something." The more they were following Sharon Tate in her daily activities, the more I was thinking that she better be an important part of this movie or else I wasted about 45 minutes watching something that doesn't even matter.
The scene where Brad Pitt goes to the hippie hideout is easily the best in the movie. Even though at that point I didn't realize this was supposed to be a Manson thing, it was still a very intense scene. Had I known that this was a twist on the Manson family, it would have been a little more entertaining. So maybe Tarantino could have done SOMETHING to tell us this instead of just assuming that everyone is gonna watch every trailer and think that every hippie congregation is supposed to be the Manson family. This was the first time I was taken out the movie by the over-the-top violence inflicted on a character while everyone around me was laughing at it. And if you're supposed to think it's funny even if you don't know that they're supposed to be a murderous cult, then I don't know what the fuck is wrong with people.
Final act: I'm sitting in my seat, and all I can think is "this better be one hell of a third act to bring all these boring, useless storylines together." DiCaprio gets drunk and yells at some hippies. Pretty funny. Pitt takes his dog for a walk, and starts tripping on acid. Kinda funny. then for the first time in two hours, these hippie characters (that you're wondering why are even in the movie to begin with) FINALLY say something that shows they have a murderous leader. Then I start getting excited, finally connecting the dots, and thinking oh man this is gonna be a cool take on the Manson murders. And within five minutes I am not only disappointed by the climax, I am incredibly disappointed in my overall experience with the movie.
The hippie characters only deserved what they got in our real universe where they did the actions that they're know for. But in the movie universe, they were not responsible for these actions, and so their punishment was out of the blue and unwarranted. And if you don't know the real life story of these characters, I would expect that you would be disgusted by what happens, and how everybody is laughing around you in the theater. it was jarring in a way that other Tarantino violent scenes are not. he has made some of the most intensely violent scenes, but they are done for drama, for realism, or to get you disgusted with a character. This violence was done for humor, and I felt very out of place in the theater being the only one who was questioning why people are laughing at a dog ripping a guys genitals off, and then a girls face off while they're both screaming in horror. or apparently everybody's favorite was when the girl's face got smashed over and over into a coffee table until there was nothing left of it. everyone laughed the hardest at that part.
Either I missed something absolutely huge that changed my perception of this movie, or Tarantino has made a huge shift in his writing style, and the audience has made a huge shift in what is funny. Two movies ago Tarantino had a guy getting ripped apart by dogs, and it is one of the hardest scenes for anyone I know to get through, now it's funny because they committed murder in a different reality? I don't get it, I don't get the movie, and fuck you Tarantino for giving us two hours of nothing so you can give us 5 minutes of violence. I enjoyed the first time you did that in Death Proof, when it was actually entertaining. It's a real shame to add this movie to his near flawless career.
2 / 2 directing & technical aspect
0 / 1 story
.5 / 1 act I
1 / 1 act II
.5 / 1 act III
1 / 1 acting
1 / 1 writing
1 / 1 originality
0 / 1 lasting ability to make you think
-.5 / 1 misc (wtf?)
6.5 / 10
[6.2/10] Bombshell plays like a second rate Adam McKay film. It has the same direct addresses to the audience, the same straightforward explanation and table-setting for the situation at hand, and the same “period piece for the recent past” vibe of movies like The Big Short and Vice. But what it’s missing is the humor.
In theory, that shouldn’t be a big deal. Institutionalized sexual harassment, the subject of the film, isn’t a laughing matter. But part of what made the artifice of McKay’s more sober films work is that they approached the insane events they cover with a touch of absurdism, a touch of “Can you believe these people?”, that helps make the more contrived or didactic parts of the presentation go down smoother. Even star Margot Robbie’s turn in “I, Tonya” managed to balance the real, piercing emotional toll and topics at play with a certain awareness of the ridiculous.
Bombshell, on the other hand, is a deeply serious film, one that drowns in its own efforts to be an Important Film about Important Things:tm:. It is as breathless as it is airless. So many moments of the film are laden with melodrama and monologues. Despite a vaguely cinema verite approach stylistically (give or take some odd, dramatic zooms), the film has a stagey quality to it, with most of its characters pausing to capital-A Act and deliver conspicuously curated points or exposition about whatever the issue at hand is. For a story about something so real and pernicious, Bombshell almost always feels like it’s holding its story at arm’s length.
Except in the rare instances where it doesn't. Director Jay Roach centers Bombshell around the stories of three women. Megyn Kelly (Charlize Theron) has conspicuously pensive scenes and corny, dramatic pronouncements as the established anchor deciding whether or not to break ranks and publicly come out against her boss. Gretchen Carlson (Nicole Kidman) plays the crusading host, forced out due to sexism, with scores of exasperated close-ups and even direct appeals to the camera. Both cram complex stories into broadly familiar tropes.
But the film shakes off its more cartoonish impulses more often in the story of Kayla Pospisil (Margot Robbie), a young aspiring reporter who dreams of an on-air position and finds herself ensnared in her boss’s harassment to get there. It’s in this story and this story alone that Bombshell dials into something more real.
There’s genuine camaraderie and complexity to the relationship between Kayla and her secretly-liberal-and-lesbian best friend at Fox News, Jess Carr (Kate McKinnon, who all but steals the show), as both balance legitimate empathy with the need for self-preservation. Robbie plays the shock and hardship of her position with piercing truth. And in the scene where the film depicts Kayla’s harassment is also its realest, scariest, and most uncomfortable. That sequence, where Kayla is forced to submit to her bossess’s perverse, powerplay whims, feels gross and and frighteningly true in a way so little of the rest of the film does.
Part of that comes down to the performances. The cast is star studded, with even the bit parts fulfilled by a who’s who of outstanding character actors. But since most portray real life individuals, their turns are often reduced to impressions or exaggerations. And even those that don’t have the cheesiness of speechifying and Oscar reel oratories with the players making very obvious and loud acting choices that takes the punch out of whatever true emotion they’re trying to convey.
The exceptions mostly come down to Robbie (who still suffers from some of the film’s monologism), McKinnon, and strangely enough, John Lithgow as the odious Fox News impresario Roger Ailes. If there’s any character in this film liable to come off so over-the-top that he almost floats away, it’s Ailes -- the paranoid, perverted, power-grabbing news gremlin who’s made so many of these women’s lives a living hell. But Lithgow, acting under an impressive set of prosthetics, somehow manages to make this man as bombastic and repulsive as he ought to be, while also making him seem like a real human being with his own self-justifying delusions and terrifying impulses. The film’s most dramatic villain is, strangely, also one of it’s most lived in performances.
But every actor in the film has to overcome the script. Eventually the film coalesces around decisions among its three main characters over whether to come forward about Ailes’s harassment. But until that point, it stumbles around as a series of vignettes organized around a theme more than any sort of unified narrative. Meanwhile, the film is trying to explicate that theme with overtly didactic dialogue, grand speeches about What This All Means, and lingering shots of the characters’ daughters that all but scream “Won’t somebody please think of the children?!” at the audience.
The film’s message -- about workplace harassment and the institutional rot that preserves it -- is a noble one, but also one lost in those choices. As a dramatized piece of quasi-journalism, it lacks punch to anyone who’s read even the barest of headlines about this situation over the past five years. As an effort to persuade, it suffers from the fact that 95% of people liable to even see the film most likely already agree with its points. As an effort to preserve this moment and this fight for history, it falters by only glancingly grappling with the bile that personalities like Kelly and Carlson spewed on a regular basis before joining this crusade.
With that, Bombshell feels like a high class T.V. movie, one that hopes it can wow you with its over-the-top presentation, celebrity performances of known personalities, and nod-worthy arguments. Occasionally, it grazes profundity and drills down into something real. But for the most part, it holds the audience’s hand through every theme, performance, and emotion in the piece, with a dour realism that belies its clearly dramatized presentation of these events.
There’s few laughs, if any, to be had about powerful creeps wrecking the lives of the women beneath them. But when Bombshell adopts the McKay approach in telling this story, it misses that key ingredient which makes the more constructed elements of McKay’s movies work without eliciting eye-rolls. Without it, Roach’s attempt at the same without that wry lens comes off more like an on-the-nose, visual essay so scared that its audience won’t understand its blaring ideas and argument that it practically has characters announce them, and misses the core tragedy and realness of what its subjects suffered in the process.
If you’re just interested in well choreographed and edited action sequences: see it. Also, kudos to convicingly pulling off the Will Smith clone (minus his final scene), something which must’ve been extremely hard to do given that he’s constantly moving around during the action sequences. However, the story of this film feels very paint-by-numbers and uses way too much exposition on top of that. The set-up takes a lot from The Bourne Identity, minus the memory loss. That’s not inherently a bad thing, but this has none of the interesting characterization, pace or grit from a Bourne film on top of that. Stylistically, there’s a glossiness and fakeness to it all. Everything is overlit, it ocassonially looks like characters are standing in front of green screen (which I’m pretty sure they aren’t), and there’s a fluidity to the movement during the action scenes which makes it look like animation. I don’t know how much of that is a result of the special cameras they used, and how much comes from bad CGI/cinematography/lighting, but I do know that not all of the innovation here is also an improvement.
4/10
Ps:
If you’re someone who loves motion smoothing and oversaturated colours on your tv system—> watch it in HFR
If you have taste —> don’t watch it in HFR.
[7.0/10] Patrick Stewart can act. That is, perhaps, no revelation. But the strongest moment in the series premiere of Star Trek: Picard is simply giving him a moment to emote, to condemn, to express his distress and regret over the state of things. When pushed to explain why he left Starfleet, the fire that fueled The Next Generation is revived, and the ghosts of the utopia it operated in are exercised.
Picard left because of xenophobia, because of isolationism, because of an abandonment of the principals of altruism and mercy and acceptance that buttressed the Federation he knew and believed in. That connection to larger ideas -- of a once noble nation turning its back on those in need out of a fear for what opening one’s doors to the world could invite in, and an architect of that community severing his ties with it when it shrinks from the ideals he so deeply believes in -- not only imbues this story with a real world resonance; it’s pure Trek.
But it’s not enough to offer a man meditating on his legacy and the institutions that devolved on his watch. So we need a mystery box. And we need a terrorist attack from a group of “synths” on Mars that scared the Federation into submission. And we need Romulan refugees resettling in an old Borg cube. And we need Romulan fighters trying to root out and destroy the last of the synths. And we need a mysterious young woman -- half River Tam and half Daisy Johnson -- to seek out Picard’s help to sort it all out.
It’s all...fine. It’s naive to expect a modern day science fiction show to rely on the staid, contemplative tone that The Next Generation thrived on. I don’t mind Dahj kicking ass in a hand-to-hand combat scene that makes Kirk’s karate chops look like childsplay. I don’t mind a wire fu-esque battle between her and a cadre of Romulan attackers that involves dodging phaser fire, leaping grand distances, and gory-ish explosions. Times change, and shows have to change with them, even if it means making allowances for the sort of fireworks that once disappointed fans in Picard’s jump to the big screen.
But what I do mind is how generic so much of the rest of the episode feels. Make no mistake -- it is a tall order to follow-up to one of the most beloved science fiction series of all time, that honors past successes while forging a distinct path for the show at hand. But if you shaved off the serial numbers and took away the easter eggs, this could be any other modern science fiction show, with a look and dialogue and mysteries that suffice but don’t wow.
The best you can say is that in the early going at least, Star Trek: Picard doesn't feel like fanservice. Sure, Picard’s dog is named “Number One,” and he orders earl grey tea, and he has a futuristic safety deposit box full of familiar trinkets. But when the show invokes the past, it does so in service of the story in the here and now.
And yet, that’s both a blessing and a curse. Revealing Dahj as Data’s daughter adds some emotional potency to her pairing with Picard. They make Brent Spiner’s guest appearances in the episode more than a fond reminder of everyone’s favorite android, but as a touchstone for Picard’s close relationship with his former protege. For all the flack Star Trek: Nemesis caught, one of its saving graces was the way it suggested that, flesh and blood or no, Data was Picard’s son, his family. So by making Dahj a sort of granddaughter to Picard through that bond makes her relevant in the early going, when the show has to be economical about establishing its characters and stakes.
But at the same time, that’s part of the problem. Stewart and Isa Briones do their best, but the on screen chemistry isn’t quite there yet, so the results feel more like Star Trek: Picard drafting on the good feelings of old, even if it wants to move in a new direction. Fans of the Next Generation will shudder to hear the name Bruce Maddox, the man who tried to have Data declared property, invoked. Still, it feels a tad cheap to have him missing and potentially responsible for some sort of new-fangled “biological synthetic” that is cloned or replicated or somehow otherwise spawned from Data.
All the while, “Remembrance” has the same, overly glossy look that the rest of modern Trek does. All the while, we get characters giving tearful statements that tidily deposit their backstories, with performances that can’t support the psychological weight the show wants to place on them as well as Stewart can. All the while, we get another damn mystery box, where we’re left to guess who made Dahj and her twin sister, and whether the twin’s new flirty Romulan acquaintance is part of the apparent terrorist group, and what the true motivation of the “synths” who blew up Utopia Planetia was, since the show apparently can’t muster that intrigue while still putting its proverbial cards on the table.
And all the while, we have to cut through clunky scenes that try to establish all of this. Little of it is outright bad. This is a competent production with a stellar lead actor and enough reverence for the source material not to upset too much of it. But when you’re bringing back one of television’s great characters and invoking the legacy of the series that started a new age of Star Trek, I expect better than solid but less-than-inspired adequacy.
None of it quite matches that one moment of personal truth or the real life implications of Picard’s disdain for what the organization he once loved has transformed into. When “Remembrance” deposits him into its adventure, it becomes just another off-the-shelf science fiction series, albeit one that can harness the history and world of The Next Generation, The Original Series, and even the 2009 reboot.
In that one scene, though, Star Trek: Picard gives us a glimpse of the show it could be. “Remembrance” soars when it allows its lead performer to do what he does best and embrace the thematic resonance and introspection that were the hallmarks of his prior series, rather than flash and whodunnits and twisty reveals. Only time will tell whether, with so much narrative throat-clearing and table-setting out of the way, the series sets a course for the better.
[6.0/10] This was the saggiest episode left. On the Picard side of things, we're gathering up the band, and few of the new crewmembers do anything for me. The show tries to slap together some meaningful backstory between Picard and Raffi, but can't pull it off, and she and Picard have no on-screen rapport to speak of. (The "J.L." nickname is beyond dumb.) Rios feels like a generic jerk with a heart of gold, and the accent routine doesn't do much for me either. I like Dr. Jurati more (if only because she's a better actress than the other performers), but the writing for her characters is just as questionable. It's a tall order to have to follow-up the cast of TNG, but this new crew definitely doesn't cut it in the early going.
The other half of the episode is pretty sorry too. Miss me with this whole "double-secret Romulan prophecy B.S." It feels like such a generic tease, and I'm already tired of the mystery box material. I'll admit that it's a thrill to see Hugh again, but the episode barely does anything with him. And the weird, vaguely incest-y Romulan super spies is some hackneyed/weird Bond villain nonsense.
Overall, it's been three episodes and the show still hasn't really won me over. I am a lifer, and pretty much going to watch no matter what, but it's hard to term this anything but a disappointment out of the gate. Thankfully, there's still seven more episodes for the show to, well, grow the beard.
[8.4/10] We live in the finite. Everyone reading this has a limited amount of time on this plane of existence. Maybe you believe there’s an eternal paradise waiting on the other end. Maybe you believe in reincarnation. Maybe you believe that we’re simply waves whose essence is returned to the fabric of the universe. Whatever you believe, almost all of us can agree that whatever we have here, our fragile world and fragile bodies, are not built to last.
That is both terrifying and maddening: terrifying because, like Janet, none of us truly knows what’s on the other side, and maddening because there is so much to do and see and experience even in this finite world, and given how few bearimies we have on this mortal coil, most of us will only have the chance to sample a tiny fraction of it.
So The Good Place gives us a fantasy. It’s not a traditional one, of endless bliss or perpetual pleasure or unbridled success. Instead, it imagines an afterlife where there’s time enough to become unquestionably fulfilled, to accomplish all that we could ever want, to step into the bounds of the next life or the next phase of existence or even oblivion at peace. The finale to Michael Schur’s last show, Parks and Recreation, felt like a dose of wish fulfillment, but with this ending, The Good Place blows it out of the water.
Each of our heroes receives the ultimate send-off. By definition, nearly all of them have found ultimate satisfaction, a sense of peacefulness in their existence that makes them okay to leave it, having connected with their loved ones, improved themselves, and accomplished all that they wanted to. If “One Last Ride” seemed to give the denizens of Pawnee everything they’d ever wanted, “Whenever You’re Ready” makes that approach to a series finale nigh-literal for the residents of The Good Place.
And yet, there’s a sense of melancholy to it all, if only because every person who emerges from paradise at peace and ready to leave, has to say goodbye to people who love them. Most folks take it in stride, with little more than an “oh dip” or an “aw shoot”, but there’s still something sad about people who leave loved ones behind, and whom the audience has come to know and love, bidding what is, for all intents and purposes, a final farewell.
But The Good Place finds ways to make that transcendent joy for each of our heroes feel real. Jason...completes a perfect game of Madden (controlling Blake Bortles, no less). He gets loving send-offs from his father and best friend. He enjoys one last routine with his dance crew. He inadvertently lives the life of a monk while trying to find the necklace he made for Janet. It is the combination of the idiotic, the sweet, and the unexpectedly profound, which has characterized Jason.
Tahani learns every skill she dreamed of mastering (including learning wood-working from Ron Swanson and/or Nick Offerman!). She connects with her sister and develops a loving relationship with her parents. And when it’s time to go, she realizes she has more worlds left to conquer and becomes an architect, a fitting destination for someone who was always so good at designing and creating events for the people she cares about. Hers is one of the few stories that continues, and it fits her.
Chidi doesn't have the same sort of list of boxes checked that leads him to the realization that he has nothing more to do. Sure, he’s read all of the difficult books out there and seemingly refined the new afterlife system (with help from the council) to where it’s running smoothly, almost on automatic. But his realization is more from a state of being happy with where everything is, with what he’s experienced.
He has dinner with his best friend and Eleanor’s best friends and has so many times. He’s spent endless blissful days with the love of his (after)life staring at the sunset. His mom kissed Eleanor and left lipstick on her cheek, which Eleanor’s mom wiped off. I love that. I love that it’s something more ineffable for Chidi, a sense of the world in balance from all the bonds he’s forged rather than a list of things he’s done. And I love that he felt that readiness to move on for a long time, but didn’t for Eleanor’s sake.
Look, we’re at the end of the series, and I’m still not 100% on board with Eleanor/Chidi, which is a flaw. But I want to like it. I like the idea of it. And I especially like the idea of someone being at peace, but sacrificing the need to take the next step for the sake of someone they love. The saddest part of this episode is Eleanor doing everything she can to show Chidi that there’s more to do, only to accept that the moral rule in this situation says that her equal and opposite love means letting him go. Chidi’s departure is hard, but his gifts to Eleanor are warm, and almost justify this half-formed love story that’s driven so much of the show.
Unfortunately, no matter how much peace he finds, Michael cannot walk through the door that leads to whatever comes next. So instead, he gets the thing he always wanted -- to become human, or as Eleanor puts it, a real boy. Ted Danson plays the giddiness of this to the hilt, his excitement at doing simple human things, the symbolism of him learning to play a guitar on earth, on taking pleasure in all the mundane annoyances and simple fun and things we meat-sacks take for granted. Each day of humanity is a new discovery for Michael, and there’s something invigorating about that, something heightened by his own delight at not knowing what happens next in the most human of ways.
The one character who gets the least indication of a next step is Janet. We learn that she is Dr. Manhattan, experiencing all of time at once. We see her accept Jason’s passing, hug our departing protagonists, and take steps to make herself just a touch more human to make her time with Jason a little more right. But hers is a story of persistence, of continued growth, in a way that we don’t really have for anyone else.
Along the way, the show checks in with scads of minor characters to wrap things up. We see the other test subjects having made it into The Good Place (or still being tested). We see Doug Forcett deciding to party hard now that he’s in Heaven. We see Shawn secretly enjoy the new status quo, and Vicky go deep into her new role, and The Judge...get into podcasts! As much as this show tries to get the big things right for all of its major characters, it also takes time to wrap up the little things and try not to leave any loose threads from four seasons of drop-ins across the various planes of existence.
That just leaves Eleanor. She takes the longest of any of the soul squad to be ready. She tries, becoming okay with Chidi’s absence. She overcomes her fear of being alone. But most importantly, she does what she’s come to do best -- help people better herself. There’s self-recognition in the way her final great act, the thing that makes her okay with leaving this plane and entering another, is seeing herself in Mindy St. Clair and trying to save her. The story of The Good Place is one of both self-improvement and the drive to help others do the same. Saving Mindy, caring about her, allows Eleanor to do both in one fell swoop.
So she too walks through the door, beautifully rendered as the bend between two trees in a bucolic setting. Her essence scatters through the universe, with one little brilliant speck of her wave, crashing back into Michael’s hands, reminding him of his dear friend, and inspiring him to pass on that love and sincerity back into the world. It is, as trite as it sounds, both an end and a beginning, something circular that returns the good deeds our protagonists have done, the good people they have become, into some type of cycle that helps make the rest of this place a little better.
Moments end. Lives end. T.V. shows end. The Good Place has its cake and eats it too, returning to and twisting key moments like Michael welcoming Eleanor to the afterlife, while cutting an irrevocable path from here through the crash of the wave. It embraces the way that the finite gives our existence a certain type of meaning, whether we have a million bearimies to experience the joys and wonders of the universe, or less than a hundred years to see and do and feel whatever we can. And it sends Team Cockroach home happy, wherever and whatever their new “home” may be.
In that, The Good Place is a marvel, not just because it told a story of ever-changing afterlife shenanigans, not just because it tried to tackle the crux of moral philosophy through an off-the-wall network sitcom, but because it ended a successful show, after only four seasons, by sending each of them into another phase of existence and made it meaningful. There’s a million things to do with our limited time on this planet, but watching The Good Place was an uplifting, amusing, challenging, and above all worthwhile use of those dwindling minutes, even if we’ll never have as many as Eleanor or Chidi, Michael or Tahani, Janet or Jason, or any of the other souls lucky enough to be able to choose how much eternity is enough.
NOTE: Reviewing both parts as a feature-length TV movie.
"It is the unknown that defines our existence."
I have to confess to a bit of excitement here, as I begin a re-watch of not only my favourite Star Trek series, but my favourite television series of all time. And it's been quite a while since I last saw it. Deep Space Nine was a show that did not fit into the presets established by what had come before, and while it began as a companion show to The Next Generation, it nevertheless forges its own identity from the very start.
This is defined almost immediately by a stunning opening sequence that Trek had never attempted before. The Battle of Wolf 359 is shown and the special effects are such a step up in quality over what we'd been seeing on TNG. As things continue, the visual identity of the show is clearly going in a very different direction with harsher lighting and dark shadows, a smoky atmosphere and a general sense of gritty damage all around.
It's more than just the way the show looks, though, because the characters reflect much of the same qualities. These are misfits, and in many cases damaged people who might not get along that well with each other. There's more conflict here than we could ever get on another Star Trek show, and along with that comes a lot more emotion. Commander Ben Sisko is a broken man who has lost his wife and is trying to raise a son by himself, and as we find out he simply can't move on from the pain of his past. Add to this Avery Brooks fairly quirky acting style (I came to love it) which relies far more on emotional reaction than Trek usually allows and I find myself instantly able to connect to the character. It was a bold move to include a scene in which Sisko confronts Picard with barely restrained anger, because at the point this show was broadcast viewers absolutely LOVE Picard. Seeing a new character bringing him down by reminded him of the worst experience of his life was a risky move, because we could begin to hate Sisko from the off. Fortunately, the writing is good enough to help steer us on a journey with this new commander.
It's an episode with far more depth in its ideas than TNG was doing at this point. These feel like real people, reacting to their situations with real feelings. Even Chief O'Brien seems more relaxed and natural as he curses and kicks the equipment around him. Yes, you could argue that Alexander Siddig is hamming it up a bit much right now, but it's a small complaint. Gul Dukat swaggers on to the scene feeling like in instantly formed character (and knowing what comes later for him, it's quite amazing how much of the character's essence is already present here). For the first time we see a Ferengi who isn't a ridiculous caricature of silliness in Quark, a first step in making them a far more interesting species.
The sequences with the wormhole aliens are masterfully written and constructed pieces that are edited together wonderfully, and again feel far more creative and fluid than the rigid structure of TNG would have allowed for. It's a genuinely heartbreaking moment as we see Sikso confront the past he's been refusing to let go of. It's also interesting that the sequences help define a major theme for the show, and that is that ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES. With Star Trek being an episodic franchise, this is something that has literally rarely had any meaning to it; you watch an episode and the story is wrapped up in 45 minutes, never to be referred to again. While DS9 won't kick in with heavy serialisation for a while, the characters are going to be shaped by their experiences throughout and actions will certainly have consequences.
While not a perfect episode (it's restrained, but there's still a bit too much technobabble at points), this remains the only good pilot for a Trek series and I'm pleased at how well it still holds up by today's standards - we will see if Discovery can challenge it later this year!
An episode based around the theme of coming together, in some cases to work towards a goal or in some to just forge a friendship. This is the beginning of the fantastic O'Brien/Bashir pairing, and it's off to a rocky start. I love that O'Brien just doesn't like Julian, but I also love that Julian isn't oblivious to this. It seems the writers might have realised just how arrogant they were making the character and began the process of making the doctor more likeable.
The Jake/Nog friendship has also grown to the point where the two of them are becoming inseparable, and to where they now comfortably argue a lot. They behave as believable teenagers, far better than Wesley ever did over on TNG. I have to admit, when I watched this episode as kid I also had a massive crush on Varis Sul, and it's interesting that I had forgotten about her completely but the episode brought it all the memories back!
It's a notoriously cheesy moment within the first season of the show, though. The whole storyteller plot line in the village is really hard to take, mostly because of how stupid the villagers come across. Our first real visit down to Bajor presents a people who seem moronic among the galaxy's occupants, shouting at a cloud in the sky. We've been told repeatedly what an advanced and cultured civilisation they are. I always laugh at O'Brien's attempt to tell the story, though ("once upon a time...").
The finale to season 1 may be low key, but it's a very strong episode. The religious aspects that the show will come to be known for are fully introduced here, and they're handled maturely. I've always found the Bajoran faith to be fascinating and one of my favourite parts of this show, even though I consider myself agnostic and have a low opinion of organised religion. DS9 manages to successfully intertwine the beliefs of science and faith, and figure out how its characters can learn to keep those two points of view while still respecting each other. It's not an easy journey, as this episode demonstrates.
It's worth noting that this is the first time since the pilot that Sisko's role as the Emissary has been referred to in any significant way. The episode introduces a couple of major recurring characters in Vedek Bareil and Vedek Winn - the latter being played wonderfully by Louise Fletcher and managing to inspire an incredible amount of hate in the viewer! If you despise her, as most do, that only means that she did her job extremely well. And it's going to get much, much more intense from here on!
I like the O'Brien subplot, it's just a shame that Neela hadn't had more of a presence throughout the season up to this point. That would have made her reveal much more powerful. It's also great to see Odo being the excellent investigator that he is. Dax is still relegated to not much more than a background science person at this point, I hadn't realised just how little the first season had used her.
An overall great episode and powerful end to the first season, really showing that Sisko and Kira have worked through things to find common ground and respect for each other. The only real weak point for me was the slow motion "noooooooo!" at the end which was a bit cheesy. It is redeemed somewhat by - for once - a gorgeous accompanying musical score.
