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 – 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: The Good Wife and The Americans – When belief is the greatest rebellion

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In two of television’s best shows, The Good Wife and The Americans, the main characters’ children – teenagers – do not rebel against their parents or authority by partying, drinking, having sex, choosing inappropriate partners or dating at all, skipping school or typical teenage rebellion tropes. Instead, these teens rebel by seeking faith.

In many American families, this would not be unusual or considered as rebellion at all. But for the families at the heart of these two particular shows, faith is not central to the main characters’ lives and never has been. Many critics condemn the shows when they focus too squarely on the main characters’ children, and usually I would agree. In these shows, however, the children’s search for meaning and faith informs and deepens the viewers’ understanding of the characters we care most about.

In The Good Wife, arguably one of the most sophisticated and nuanced shows in recent years, the focal point is Alicia Florrick (Julianna Margulies). The show has always been a critical success but has always struggled in the ratings; at this point, given the way the latter half of its most recent, the sixth, season has gone, I think the show has seen better days. I highly recommend at least the first five seasons.

Alicia faces many challenges in her personal and professional life, but one story that has not been particularly well-developed but which does shine a light on Alicia’s relationship with faith (as well as challenges with mothering – you never know what to expect from your kids!) is when her daughter, Grace, becomes curious about and explores Christianity. Alicia is not religious, and Grace’s exploration creates tension. It is not always the most well-designed plotline, but we can see clearly that Grace’s curiosity, though genuine, is a form of rebellion. Not argument-filled, contentious rebellion – but given Alicia’s ambivalence toward religion (I can’t recall if she ever explicitly stated that she is an atheist, but it is clear that religion is not a part of her life and that she did not introduce religion as a part of her children’s lives), it is a form of rebellion. After all, rebellion is often a form of finding and forging one’s own identity apart from what is expected.

In the better of the two shows (both of which are exceptional), The Americans, which, if possible, is even more highly acclaimed than The Good Wife, but less watched (!), the two main characters, Philip and Elizabeth Jennings (Matthew Rhys and Keri Russell), find themselves at odds when their teenage daughter, Paige, decides to pursue faith. Philip and Elizabeth, both undercover Soviet spies, are atheists – but each “welcomes” Paige’s exploration differently. Both main characters have a complex relationship with how to parent (and with America and their cause). Both love their child, but Elizabeth – less seduced by America and more deeply, ideologically committed to the Soviet cause than her husband – is first against letting Paige look into her religious curiosities but eventually joins her, as a kind of way to get closer and more easily manipulate Paige when the time comes to enlist her into the “family business”. Philip is perhaps the more emotional of the two, and feels that their children deserve independence and the right to determine their future for themselves. Regardless of whether he feels that religion is the right choice for his daughter, he does not easily conclude that he and Elizabeth should interfere – and is vehemently against recruiting her to the cause. (Interestingly, Paige is a bit of a manipulator herself – asking her parents for a simple birthday dinner rather than a party, and her only request is to ask that her pastor and his wife be invited. By having the pastor present at the dinner party, she ambushes her parents into letting her get baptized.)

Although these storylines are meant to guide and illustrate our thinking about the parents/main characters, they also underline the general tendency of people – particularly when young – not just to look toward ideas that are different from what they have always been exposed to but also to question and search for meaning, whether that comes in the form of religious faith or something else. We can see how wrapped up in and brainwashed people can become (see the recent HBO documentary Going Clear, about the cult that is Scientology for a testament about that) in their search for authenticity, identity and belonging. Some people find that in their church, some find it in a social setting or scene, some people find it in politics. We can see that Alicia Florrick, while strong herself, has a community in the legal profession, her law firm and now in politics (though she is struggling with that). We know that the Jennings couple in The Americans has a guiding belief in Communism. It is easy to forget as adults, particularly ones with that depth of community and level of ideological commitment, that young people, even one’s own children, do not necessarily share those things and values. (Obviously the case if you are secretly spies!)

Where both shows have an opportunity with the stories about their children is that they can show how their parenting and relationships with their children can encourage healthy questioning and exploration and be supportive without smothering or undermining reason (i.e., opposing the children’s curiosity to the degree that they become even more determined to pursue a path just to spite the parents). In both shows, eventually, regardless of whether the end aims had impure motives (as in Elizabeth’s case with her daughter – even if it is considerably more complicated than that), the “rebellion” is nurtured with discussion and showing increasing trust in the children, even if the belief/faith is not ultimately shared.