Well, you’ve certainly got to give it up for Jennifer Coolidge, that’s for one thing. A lot of Coolidge fandom is that weird performative thing that all actor fandoms seem to do at this point where it’s more like you want this person to be your parent or best friend than a dude who happens to be really good at acting, but let’s put that aside, because she really is good at acting! It’s hard to convincingly play a stupid person without it devolving into a million old jokes, and Coolidge has consistently pulled that off as Tanya. This episode in particular is the ne plus ultra of the role, as Coolidge portrays Tanya’s final realization that she’s surrounded by men who intend to murder her for her money like a cocker spaniel figuring out calculus.

I reviewed the season finale of The White Lotus for Decider.

Are there dramatic moments that moved me, or comedic moments that made me laugh? Very much so! Bert’s open distress as he connects his failed family reunion with the fact that he’ll never be romantically or maternally loved again. Quentin telling Tanya that doing coke after a prolonged period of abstinence is like “riding a bike.” Jack semi-drunkenly asserting that we live at the best point in history despite all the signs to the contrary, which have been brought up by Portia primarily to burst his bubble rather than to make any kind of real point. Harper and Ethan’s grueling conversation about whether or not their marriage is dead, the tightest and hardest-hitting discussion of relatable human misery in the show’s history, I think. Ethan’s increasingly insufferable stone-faced fury at it all. The revelation that Isabella and Rocco are engaged. The genuine sexual chemistry between Valentina and Mia.

I reviewed this week’s episode of The White Lotus for Decider.

My emotional journey with Season 2 of The White Lotus continues to take unexpected twists and turns. I’ve been entertained, bored, vaguely disdainful, but as of this week’s episode (“That’s Amore”) I’m disconcerted. Like, what if Mike White is right? What if people really are like this — all of them grasping, self-deluded, hypocritical assholes? What if my friends and loved ones are secretly like this. What if I’m secretly like this? How can I ever have a healthy, trusting relationship of any kind ever again? How can society survive???

I reviewed the fifth episode of The White Lotus Season 2 for Decider.

So it was a mixed bag, this White Lotus ep. In a way, I can’t help but admire White for trying to stuff so many different things inside that bag, and the result may have been the most entertained I’ve been by an episode this season. I just wish the results more consistently matched the ambition.

I reviewed episode four of The White Lotus Season 2 for Decider.

The new Boiled Leather Audio Hour is up! Stefan Sasse and I discuss the season finale of Andor, available here or wherever you get your podcasts!

And remember, the Boiled Leather Audio Hour is brought to you by Manscaped! Groom your area and save 20% plus get free shipping when you use the code BOILEDLEATHER at manscaped.com!

Now it can be told: I’ve contributed an essay to the liner notes for Vinegar Syndrome’s “Vinegar Syndrome Ultra” limited edition 4K UHD Blu Ray, freshly restored from the original 35mm negative and chock full of extras. Like me! Go order it!

Our latest patreon-exclusive Andor podcast is about that big final post-credits scene. Listen and enjoy1

‘Sesame Street’

PBS, 1969-Present; HBO, 2016-20; HBO Max, 2020-Present

He wasn’t a big yellow bird or a furry blue monster, but Joe Raposo was as integral to the success of the children’s educational institution Sesame Street as any Muppet. In addition to writing classic Sesame songs like “Bein’ Green,” “Sing,” and “C Is for Cookie” — that’s good enough for me — Raposo composed the jaunty, instantly recognizable theme song that helped lodge the show in the public consciousness. With lyrics by Raposo, Jon Stone, and Bruce Hart, “Can You Tell Me How to Get to Sesame Street?” conjures up images of smiling kids running down the sidewalk on a sunny day — headed, in the words of Don Draper, to a place where they know they are loved. —S.T.C.

I contributed over a dozen entries to Rolling Stone’s list of the Top 100 TV Theme Songs of All Time, from Game of Thrones to Cheers to Where in the World Is Carmen Sandiego? Go read and argue!

If anything ties Andor together, it’s this: a conviction that great things are made from small pieces, painstakingly assembled. It was true of the bomb, it’s true of whatever they were building in that prison (a post-credits scene reveals it to be components for the planet-killing weapons system on the Death Star), it’s true of the growing Rebellion, and it’s true of Cassian Andor himself, a lowlife who’s gone from scrambling to survive to fighting for something much larger than himself. It’s amazing to see a Star Wars story this thoughtfully constructed, adding brick to brick to brick until the most impressive story that universe has seen in two decades is right there before our eyes.

I reviewed the season finale of the truly excellent Andor for Decider.

One of the most unusual things about the show is that, especially in the early episodes, Cassian Andor is not particularly charismatic. We’re used to dramas centered on the most magnetic guy in the room.
You probably were in a room with him and never noticed. Cassian had to be that guy because this is a big show that wants to tell the story of people that big shows never cared about before. It’s the only way to be honest about a revolution.

Yes, there are leaders, but revolutions are not made by leaders. They’re made by numbers, by conviction, by regular people thinking they can do something extraordinary. This is the story of one of those people that was never celebrated. Oh, this person is going to bring change, this person is different — no, not really. The strength of community, that’s what the show is about.

You cannot fall into the trap of making the charismatic, funny guy who you know from the beginning is going to find a way out. You have to think the opposite. You have to question, Why are we supporting him? I was always saying, “Let’s avoid movie moments as much as we can.”

I interviewed Diego Luna about his incredible Star Wars show Andor for Vulture.

Stefan Sasse and I discussed the penultimate episode of Andor‘s first season on the latest episode of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour podcast!

Thinking about the show overall, the hamfisted, ill-fitting music cues seem part and parcel of Friese and bo Odar’s decision to abandon the slow and subtle approach that made their first Netflix series Dark so effective and affecting in favor of balls-to-the-wall pacing and storytelling. There are more MiNd-bLoWiNg ReVeLaTiOnS in any given 1899 episode than there were in Dark’s entire first season. While I respect the decision to just go buckwild in theory, in practice, it just didn’t work out.

I reviewed the season finale of 1899 for Decider. It’s a bummer this show isn’t better.

But the stars of this particular episode are, well, the stars of this particular episode. Virtually every actor stranded aboard the Kerberos seems to be going for broke in this one, digging into depths of grief and despair and hope and love only hinted at previously. Emily Beecham, Aneurin Barnard, Andreas Pietschmann, Miguel Bernardeau, José Pimentão, Isabella Wei, Yann Gael, Mathilde Ollivier, Jonas Bloquet, Rosalie Craig, Maciej Musiał, Clara Rosager, Maria Erwolter, Alexandre Willaume, Isaak Dentler, Fflyn Edwards — just go-for-broke work from all of them, top to bottom.

I reviewed episode 7 of 1899 for Decider.

But behind the show’s genre elements are, ostensibly, human stories designed to give those elements heft and weight. Nothing we’ve seen thus far feels weightier than what we see Tove survive. What’s more, to the extent 1899 is serious at all about its by-now obvious allegorical resonance with real-world refugee and resource crises, accurately depicting an act of violence as hideous and traumatic rather than stylized and dramatic is necessary to get the point across. The show is treating this as the terrible crime it is, and not allowing the audience to look away. 

I reviewed the sixth episode of 1899, which took a turn for the brutal that was both upsetting and necessary, for Decider.

As previously mentioned, I grow less and less convinced that 1899 has big things to say about anything in particular as the show progresses. To the extent that it’s any fun at all, it’s purely down to the sci-fi hijinks and the overall murky tone that accompanies them. It’s binge-y stuff, and who knows? Maybe that’s enough.

I reviewed episode five of 1899 for Decider.

Okay, I get it now: 1899 is Lost. It’s just Lost! I mean, it’s Lost with no jokes and no heart-tugging Michael Giacchino score, which is to say that tonally it’s way, way different — different enough, I think, to insulate it from rip-off charges. But: trapped in the middle of the ocean because something went wrong with the vehicle you were using to cross it. A motley crew of passengers fleeing their troubled pasts. Secret connections between them. Mechanically induced teleportation. Mysterious strangers. Mysterious symbols. Maybe an eccentric gazillionaire behind it all. A boy with special powers. (Remember, that was an important part of Lost, once upon a time, before the showrunners realized children age in real time even if the characters on your show do not!) And flashbacks, hoo boy, flashbacks. Literally and figuratively, it’s Lost at Sea.

I reviewed the fourth episode of 1899 for Decider.

One thing 1899 has going for it, despite my present reservations, is its apparent determination to barrel full speed ahead into the weird. I mean, this is only the third episode, and already entire steam ships are disappearing into ruptures in the spacetime continuum opened by strange machinery. It took Lost years to get there; it took 1899 three hours. That’s storytelling confidence, is what that is. Let’s just hope it’s warranted.

I reviewed the third episode of 1899 for Decider.

Jan herself introduces the show in its first scene. She says, “I know it may seem unbelievable, but we lived in a different world back then.” Do you think there are lessons from Jan’s ordeal with B that are still applicable today?
I hope one of the main things people take away is that they can learn from the Brobergs’ mistakes. They’re very up front about it: They made every mistake in the book. And It was a very different time. The fact that the FBI agents didn’t even know what a pedophile was? That was shocking.

It’s easy to hide behind a screen and be like, Wow, that’s insane, but if that was me or my family, I never would’ve let that happen. You don’t know until you’re in that situation. Look at the pain and heartache the Brobergs went through: They still came together as a family afterwards. That’s one of the beautiful things about seeing Jan at the very beginning. It gives you hope that she’s okay. She made it out the other side.

I interviewed actor Mckenna Grace about playing Jan Broberg, the kidnapping and brainwashing victim at the heart of Nick Antosca’s harrowing true-crime drama A Friend of the Family, for Vulture. I’m so glad this piece is finally out there.

What is the difference between a mystery-box show and a show that is purely mysterious? Is there a difference? Since J.J. Abrams coined the term to describe Lost, the seminal science-fiction series he co-created (and then largely left to its own devices, under Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse), I’ve seen it used to describe everything from the kids’ cartoon Gravity Falls to HBO’s once-upon-a-time next-big-thing Westworld to shows that predate the term entirely, like Patrick McGoohan’s The Prisoner. At root, the phrase seems to be used to describe shows that create a sort of “What the hell is going on here?” feeling: The stories in question do not contain a mystery or multiple mysteries, they are one big mystery, leaving the viewer scrambling (and, ideally for the creators and networks, tweeting and Redditing and tumblring and so on) to figure out what is happening and why at basically all times.

For me, the phrase has taken on an almost purely pejorative connotation. It describes shows that hide things from the viewer almost arbitrarily, not because the story demands it or benefits from it, but because the goal is to keep the audience engrossed and guessing at the expense of creating emotional and intellectual investment more organically. So for me, The Prisoner wouldn’t qualify, as its sinister surrealism requires a lack of explanation to establish that tone; Westworld, with its ginned-up “who is he? when is he?” riddles, does qualify, as it’s obscure mainly for the sake of eventual revelations that don’t really pay off the delayed gratification. More recently, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power attached a series of needless question marks to seemingly half its characters and storylines, for no ostensible purpose other than to get the viewer to tune in next time to find out who the heck Adar is or whatever. Mysteries push the story forward; mystery boxes are substitutes for stories.

By this (entirely invented for the purpose of this review) definition, 1899 is not a mystery-box show. Oh, all the hallmarks are there: an entire cast of characters each with their own mysterious past; an implied or explicit but uncertain connection between several or all of them; flashbacks and flashforwards and hallucinations and dreams that reveal new layers of story; portentous symbols; mysterious strangers; the strong suggestion that there’s some kind of temporal rupture or loop involved. 

But — here’s the key — it doesn’t make me feel trapped like a mystery-box show does. I’m not banging my head against the walls of this thing, trying to find the writers’ way out before they reveal it. I’m taking each new revelation and secret and strange occurrence as they come, treating them as seasoning for the real main course: a collection of sad and broken people who have discovered a calamity, and who may be next in line. 

I reviewed episode two of 1899 for Decider.

1899 features dialogue in English, French, Spanish, Cantonese, Danish, German, Polish, and Japanese. The opening credits list a lead cast larger than your average Game of Thrones episode. Creators Jantje Friese and Baran bo Odar already proved, with their mind-melting, time-warping German-language science-fiction masterpiece Dark, that they know their way around a dark genre story with a sprawling cast; here, it’s as if they looked at themselves and said “Hold my beer.” You have to respect their ambition, and this pilot episode proves you have to respect their execution, too.

I’ll be covering 1899 for Decider, starting with my review of the series premiere. Due to some personal stuff these reviews will probably not be rolling out as quickly as my Netflix coverage normally does, but they will roll out, I promise!