Lunchtable TV Talk – Salem: Burn the witch, the witch is dead

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I don’t always love the show Salem but somehow its cast makes a lot of decisions for me. This is probably the case for a lot of TV. I watch things solely because a specific actor or actress is in it. I have written before about how I will watch anything with Kyle Chandler in it (although I admit that there was no way in hell I could watch the ill-fated and ridiculous What About Joan?, a show that is so bland I can barely remember it – thankfully Joan Cusack has gone on to do fantastic comedic drama work in Shameless). And while I don’t, as a rule, go out of my way to watch everything that stars Lucy Lawless (I have never seen Xena Warrior Princess – the role that made her famous), her smaller roles in favorites like Battlestar Galactica, Top of the Lake and Parks and Recreation do make me want to see more of her), seeing that she has turned up in Salem make me more inclined to keep watching.

I am not sure why, but I also like Seth Gabel and Shane West well enough that they draw me back, too.

When you watch as much TV as I do, it’s hard to remember the details season to season and pinpoint why I should continue watching anything. When Salem started up again a couple of weeks ago, I almost felt like I was watching something I had not already seen, although I had already watched a complete season. Which does not say a lot for the show, even if its more horror-inspired, witchcraft-related scenes are vivid. It has an inexplicable draw, which pulled me back in. But at the same time, it does not incite hatred or love, so Salem stands somewhere in the middle ground, in territory about which I have no opinion. The show provides moderate entertainment, but I would not care if it were canceled. I don’t tune in waiting to see what stupid things will happen – it’s not The Following – or to see overwrought pretension play out – it’s not The Slap. It’s also not Mad Men or Shameless or The Americans or some other show I don’t want to live without.

Lunchtable TV Talk – Dig: More subtitled entertainment

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I have been a fan of A Fine Frenzy for years. I had no idea when I started watching Dig – a show that is not (so far) great by any means, but which has enough twists and turns and depth to keep me watching – that A Fine Frenzy’s Alison Sudol is one of its standout characters.

While it does not seem to be a great show yet, it fits squarely into the category of shows I have been considering and writing about lately – those shows that use languages other than English extensively (and thus a liberal use of subtitles). With Dig, it’s Hebrew.

Jason Isaacs often shows up in programs that are a bit too obscure and conceptual – and thus do not seem like they will be long for this world. Awake is a good example. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t bring exceptional insight to his roles. He plays grief and confusion quite well. This large cast, in addition to Isaacs and Sudol, includes some great talent; notably, Regina Taylor (also seen in The Unit and the great, long-gone but not-forgotten I’ll Fly Away), Anne Heche (also seen in Hung and Men in Trees), Lauren Ambrose (also seen in Six Feet Under and Torchwood), Richard E. Grant (also seen most recently in Downton Abbey and Girls – among a million other things) and David Costabile (also seen in Suits, Ripper Street, Breaking Bad, Flight of the Conchords, Damages and many others).

With Dig, which has a few related storylines in play in parallel, it might be too slow, too intricate and again, obscure, for most viewers. But I will give it a shot… and like every time I watch a film from Israel, wish that I knew Hebrew.

With Dig, which has a few related storylines in play in parallel, it might be too slow, too intricate and again, obscure, for most viewers. But I will give it a shot… and like every time I watch a film from Israel, wish that I knew Hebrew.

Lunchtable TV Talk – Louie: The Walking Uterus

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The premiere episode of Louie, as it returns to television, was as uncomfortable as Louie always is. Add a dose of the freaky Cylon baby farm in Battlestar Galactica or Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, and you have yet another agonizingly awkward chapter in the story that is Louie.

Louie (the guy and the show) takes on a lot of uncomfortable, controversial topics. The inaugural episode of this season has Louie attending a potluck hosted by parents in his daughter’s school (and here’s a great description). Louie is never the most socially adept character, but the quirks and abrasiveness of other characters never helps. They always appear extreme in contrast to Louie’s socially awkward stance and in his interpretation of the interactions around him. At the aforementioned potluck, a parent named Marina and her partner introduce their surrogate to another guest and behave as though the surrogate is “a walking uterus” and absolutely nothing else. The surrogate is given no chance to answer her own questions or set her own boundaries. She has become nothing more than a vessel for these other people’s child, and while the whole conversation appears “normal” – Louie is the only person who seems to unveil the discomfort inherent in the situation.

Louie certainly does not do anything to unpack these awkward encounters or make them less uncomfortable. Some people revel in the squirming. Louie often holds up a mirror to society’s weak and squeamish subjects, and we get unflattering reflections back. For example, there was much ado last year after Louie went on a date with a “fat girl”. Many people posed the question as to whether Louie poked the issue but was still sort of an anti-fat chauvinist trying to give himself a pat on the back for going on a date with her at all – but isn’t his telling of the encounter a fairly incisive look in the mirror?

Most guys in our society, we are told, are not going to look at the fat girl. Most guys will not go out with the fat girl. If one is cornered as Louie felt, he might agree to go just to ensure the girl does not feel bad, to give himself a conscience-boosting pat on the back. But he is probably never going to call again. And he will be concerned with what others think of him. It is the society we live in – and Louie held up a mirror to all of these kinds of things. Not necessarily things that are universally true but things that are common enough to be recognizable when he projects them as part of his character’s experience. (Of course he also weaves “fantastic” – in the “fantasy” sense of the word – scenes in with real stuff, but I think the audience can tell the difference.)

Is it kind, is it NICE? Probably not. But does it have to be?
Again it goes back to this idea that somehow our entertainment, our tv shows, are supposed to teach us something – that they owe us some kind of perfection or search for enlightenment. But that’s not how real life is. Looking forward to the rest of the new season to see where Louie takes us.

Lunchtable TV Talk – Bloodline

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“I don’t want to fuck with your case, Clay. Go have a sunshiny day.” -John Rayburn (Kyle Chandler) in Bloodline

Sometimes you start watching a show or a movie and immediately know you are going to love it. Bloodline is not one of these shows. I knew that I would see it through, though, no matter what. Mostly, I knew I would watch because of star Kyle Chandler. I have been an enthusiastic Kyle Chandler cheerleader and champion since the early years – back when Chandler played Jeff Metcalf in the critically acclaimed but little-seen, little-remembered Homefront* back in the early 1990s. Chandler has appeared in many more shows over the years – most notably Early Edition and Friday Night Lights (the latter of which is an exceptional show). Chandler embodies Coach Eric Taylor from Friday Night Lights to the extent that it is almost impossible to imagine him in any other role. In most roles he has been a just but cranky and lovable but curmudgeonly man. In Bloodline it becomes clear he is still the moral compass of his difficult family, working in law enforcement, but he is troubled, and his performance in the final episode is like nothing I have ever seen Chandler do. (Also, the fact that Chandler’s character uses the word “fuck” or some variation of it almost every other word he says is a bit disarming. He’s Coach Taylor, and he doesn’t talk like that! Haha.)

Having already determined that I would follow through with the entire series (which was made available in full on Netflix), I do admit that the first five episodes didn’t inspire a whole lot of confidence about the show in its entirety. It moved slowly, moved around in time so that it was not clear when things were happening and thus was not clear what things were happening. It focuses on the dysfunctional Rayburn family; they own an inn in the Florida Keys. It is a somewhat complicated tale that weaves together past grievances with current problems and strained family relationships that all come to a head when Danny (played to menacing, psychopathic perfection by Australian actor Ben Mendelsohn), the black sheep of the family, returns.

Things pick up around the fifth episode. The story starts to tighten and the excellent cast helps the story to crystallize and brings it to life – even those in the smallest roles. By the end, I was riveted and very impressed by how the story unfolded. After the pieces of the story start to gel, all of the story’s mystery and pacing feel necessary and masterful. Luckily, the show will be back for a second season. I can’t wait – both because the storytelling preserves suspense – and there’s got to be more of that coming – and because I can always use another Kyle Chandler fix.

*Want to see Chandler before Coach Taylor, John Slattery before Roger Sterling (Mad Men), Ken Jenkins before Dr Kelso (Scrubs) or Chick (Cougar Town) or Mimi Kennedy before Abby (Dharma & Greg) or Marjorie (Mom)? Homefront is where you can see them all circa 1992-93.

Lunchtable TV Talk – The Returned – I am not returning

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I like seeing Battlestar Galactica alums in current TV shows, but for every Grace Park kicking ass on Hawaii Five-0 or Katee Sackhoff solving crimes in an equally kick-ass fashion on Longmire (am I alone in being beyond relieved about Longmire being saved by Netflix after its merciless killing at A&E’s hands?), there’s something sort of dreadful, like Tricia Helfer (and Michael Trucco) in the rightfully short-lived Killer Women – or Aaron Douglas in The Returned. These misfires aren’t the faults of Helfer, Trucco or Douglas. The shows they’re in just aren’t good.

I am always impressed with Aaron Douglas – and his performance in The Returned is as good as any of his work. It’s just that the show doesn’t quite cut it. I have not seen the original French Les Revenants but tend to believe the original source material usually can’t be beat or recreated (with notable exception – I was quite taken with the US version of The Bridge, for example). The Returned, at its most basic, is about individuals who return suddenly from the dead and the effects this return has on the community in which these resurrections take place. Five episodes in, I don’t really know what’s going to happen but am not interested enough to care.

I love some of the actors in the US version of The Returned. I’ve already cited Douglas; Jeremy Sisto is masterfully diverse; Kevin Alejandro is a pop-up-everywhere kind of guy. India Ennenga is not bad either – her role in HBO’s Treme explored (as much as that giant ensemble of loosely intersecting stories could) teenage grief and identity. Oh, and I almost forgot – the inimitable Michelle Forbes! She dominates (in a good way) everything she’s in – had nearly forgotten her Battlestar connection. She almost makes me want to keep watching The Returned… but not quite.

But I don’t have enough time to keep watching things for which I don’t feel either love or hate. Just a few actors I happen to like isn’t reason to tune in. I’ve chronicled my hate-watching and desire to give up some of the shows, like The Following, that cry out for ridicule. I’ve also written about shows I love. But the mediocre middle ground, where shows like The Returned live, isn’t a place I want to spend more time.

Lunchtable TV talk – Orphan Black: Character study

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I stumbled on the first season of Orphan Black by chance, and I was never really able to determine whether I liked it or not. The first season showed a lot of promise, while the second season had a progressively less interesting plot. It is a character-driven show – crazily character-driven. One actress, Tatiana Maslany, plays almost countless roles as clones of herself. I have written about the show before, always willing to give it another chance. After all, I watch a lot of stuff that is clearly crap, and this shows promise. And continues to even when there is grey area. I need ways to disconnect, so this character study will do it while at least exploring on a surface level the ethical debate about cloning and identity.

After two seasons, we are nearing the beginning of a third season. Even when the plot falls apart or drags, Maslany’s performance is reason to keep watching, and I am not alone in thinking it. How one woman can breathe life into so many seemingly fully formed, distinct characters in the course of such a TV show is crazy. She is one of the best actresses I’ve seen anywhere, based solely on the strength of this work. It’s impressive.

Lunchtable TV Talk – Forever: Cop immortality

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Why is the idea of immortality appealing? Better yet, why is it so appealing to make one-hour, New York-based law enforcement procedurals that center on an immortal player? Forever, starring Ioan Gruffudd, as a medical examiner who cannot die, entertainment value aside, is not the first of its kind. New Amsterdam, starring Game of ThronesNikolaj Coster-Waldau (see Scandinavian men of TV), came first – way back in 2008.

What is the appeal? And why this appeal within this particularly genre?

Not resoundingly loved and on the bubble as to its renewal, this is one of those shows that I improbably like. It could be the appeal of the lead, Gruffudd. It could also be the combination of the present-day appeal of Judd Hirsch and the nostalgic reminder of Hirsch at his best back in the years when Taxi was on TV. Off the subject – my brother recently wrote to me basically out of nowhere to command: “Think of the Taxi theme song.” I asked why. His response: “Because it was funny.” Haha. He did not remember a whole lot about the show and had no idea that the show’s theme song was called “Angela”. As a semi-complete encyclopedia about TV shared that info as well as discussing specific episodes of the show, trying to trigger his memory.

I cannot really explain how or why – but I enjoy this show, even if I don’t think about it much or analyze it. It’s just nice filler.

Lunchtable TV Talk – Scorpion

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The best part of the show Scorpion -so far- has been hearing the gorgeous song “Under the Milky Way” by The Church. That having absolutely nothing to do with the show itself, I cannot really endorse the show as being anything more than a normal procedural show that has very little distinguishing it from similar, previous shows on network TV.

A lot like Leverage and Alphas before it, the show focuses on a group of misfit geniuses who work together as a team, using their unique individual strengths to solve crimes, save lives and so on. Maybe it is different that the group of geniuses works as a part of US Homeland Security, so they are not renegades running amok fixing things of their own accord. Unusual social underdogs coupled with overachieving IQs. It is not that this is unpleasant – it is a perfectly entertaining show, and I am watching – and continue to watch it. The slight difference in this show compared to some of the previously mentioned ones – the group (Scorpion – as the show is titled) has a government handler (Robert Patrick) and a kind of former waitress, mother of a misunderstood genius who becomes a social translator/handler for the group (universally recognized bad actress Katharine McPhee – just check out the soap opera mess that was Smash).

Occasionally there is a funny line or reference thrown in. It accounts for the second time this week that I heard a reference to Gavrilo Princip in a popular network TV show (okay, the other show was The Slap, so it is a big stretch and exaggeration to use the word “popular” in reference to it). The finale of The Slap and a recent episode of Scorpion referred to Princip, the Serbian assassin of Archduke Franz Ferninand – a seemingly small event that triggered World War I. Scorpion will not be triggering any wars or setting any fires (even though a recent episode included a giant fire started by the group crashing landing a helicopter).

Lunchtable TV talk – The Goldbergs: Nostalgia makes me cry, as do robot overlords

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The Goldbergs was a bit over the top for me in the beginning, but as I continued to watch, the 1980s nostalgia eventually won me over. Many, many moments choke me up with tears. The show manages to evoke nostalgia, emotion without being overly saccharine. And I suppose people who did not grow up in that era might not feel as strongly about it. But they can find other points to connect with emotionally (the importance of family, the connection the crazy mother has with the kids, the sense of not wanting your kids to grow up, the feeling that everyone is awkward in youth but eventually, with the right guidance, they find their voice and path). It is interesting to watch the Goldberg kids grow up.

A recent episode made me laugh out loud. The dad wonders why someone would destroy a perfectly good Fiero to make a robot when the youngest, Adam, enthuses about the greatness of The Transformers (toys and cartoon). Adam pits the “stupidity” of a game “where grown men hit a ball with a stick” against his future run by robots. Argument ensues about baseball versus robots – America’s pastime (past) and its robotic future.

“Robots aren’t even real.”

“Oh you’ll see how real they are when cyborgs take over and outlaw your precious baseball.”

Lunchtable TV talk – American Crime: Don’t believe everything you read

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After spending a lot of time watching ridiculous shows, I thought American Crime, with its gritty realism, would be a good change of pace. In many ways, it is. It is gritty and real and tells a story from multiple perspectives. Characters are real, complicated, vulnerable and flawed – mostly unlikeable – but then, aren’t most people, especially on TV? While most characters are exaggerated for television, I find the exaggerations are only slightly true here. For example, with grief exploding from the uptight mother of a murder victim, she is desperately trying to keep it together, tightly wound, and keep control over her emotions and how things play out (a stellar performance from Felicity Huffman). Ultimately, most of what comes out of her mouth is critical, unpleasant, drives wedges between other characters and her, and above all, comes out as racist and short-sighted.

Who am I to say that her lashing out (however controlled it is) is exaggerated? Her insistence in a recent episode that “this family was never normal” strikes me as funny in that it’s true that no family is ever normal. The brother of the murder victim seems to be one of the only clear-headed, normal people here. His handling of the manipulative demands and undercurrent of racism his mother has always doled out is inspired. He finally confronts her – he seems to be the only one confronting anyone with reason in this show – and it’s hard to watch. It’s for scenes like these that I continue to watch, even though I am not finding the show particularly meaningful or compelling.

I read a lot of articles introducing the show before it started. I had high hopes. But the show unfolds slowly and is mundane. Perhaps this is what things are like – slow and murky. In the criminal justice system, justice is not swift and even if the outcome is “fair”, it is not going to seem fair to all parties. Crime and its aftermath has a way of revealing secrets under the surface – which then tear people apart on top of the grief and loss they are already feeling. It can unravel tenuous “peace” – in families, in societies. For example, we can see a relatively deft handling of the racial and cultural issues at play in society as a whole here, and these tensions lead to stupid decisions and explosions. Nothing is obvious, but it is undoubtedly taxing to try to create a story from all angles. For example, the story explores divides within one community. The father of a Mexican-American family that is central to the story condemns “illegals” as giving the rest of them a bad name. Naturally this does not go over well within his community (his family is shunned from their church after the father’s tirade on “illegals” is broadcast on the news).

The point is – the show’s treatment tells it from many sides, but as one online outlet explains:

“The problem with frank conversations about race and prejudice, particularly as it pertains to American life, is that the issue is so enormous that it’s impossible to have a comprehensive discussion on the subject. There’s too much at stake with too many affiliated tendrils to ever feel as if it’s a topic that has anything close to a solution, much less one that could be reached by simple dialogue. So instead of having the big important conversations about race and really digging into the main course that is oppression, society tends to prefer it’s race conversations in amuse-bouche portions, just bite-sized bits of conflict that fuel the Twitter outrage fires for days until they eventually burn themselves out, often just in time for another flare up.”

Perhaps I find the show frustrating because the characters are weak and human and do exactly what real people would do rather than what you want them to do – or what they should do (and what TV characters looking for “redemption” would do). In that sense, even five episodes in, I am not sure what I think about American Crime.