It’s almost boring to say at this point, but Foundation’s astonishing hot streak continues. For the second season in a row, the show balances a seemingly impossible-to-reconcile number of characters, storylines, tones, and visual palettes in episode after episode. The Demerzel hallucination is an all-timer image for this show, which is saying something, and both the flashbacks and the Foundation’s horrifying massacre by the Mule’s mind-controlled forces recall the most unpleasant moments of Andor’s masterful second season. Writers Jane Espenson and Greg Goetz and director Christopher J. Byrne also prove adept chroniclers of the Mule’s sadism, with Indbur’s bloodless but brutal demise ranking way up there on this series’ history of violence. Again, this is really saying something.
Julia Gfrörer is nominated for an Ignatz Award!
My beautiful and talented wife Julia Gfrörer has been nominated for an Ignatz Award for World Within the World, her magnificent career-spanning collection of short stories. (I wrote four of them, which means I’m like 1/60th an Ignatz Award nominee myself!) Please submit an awards ballot request and vote for her here, as she is very dear to me and the book is brilliant. Thank you!
‘Alien: Earth’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 3: ‘Metamorphosis’
The “Alien” franchise explores two overlapping nightmares. The first is the Alien, a cold and implacable force against which humanity is defenseless. The second is humanity itself, which through technological hubris and old-fashioned greed might well invite its own destruction. Against the first we are helpless; with the second, we are all too eager to help.
I reviewed tonight’s Alien: Earth for the New York Times. (Gift link!)
‘I, Claudius’ thoughts, Episode 2: ‘Family Affairs’
Drusus himself now occupies the command of the German legions Tiberius once oversaw. He’s a fine and honorable soldier as best we can tell, and a friend to Augustus as well. But while he serves the Empire, he’s no fan of it, nor of the all-powerful position it’s built around. In a letter to his brother after he returns to the front, Drusus writes of his worries:
A period of enforced rest due to a slight head wound has given me much time to ponder and reflect on the state of our beloved Rome. Such was the extent of the corruption and petty place-seeking that I found in Rome, that I have come to the conclusion that it is the inevitable consequence of the continued exercise of supreme power by Augustus.
The problem with building an enormous, largely unaccountable apparatus of power around one person, however good a guy he is, that power will eventually be inherited by someone who’s not such a good guy. Okay, so today we’re legalizing same sex marriage and talking about how the moral arc of the universe bends towards justice. That’s nice. We’ll get Shep Fairey to make a poster.
But what happens tomorrow? Perhaps the council of black-robed wizards who decide whether laws are legal or not will one day be dominated by right-wing lunatics. Perhaps the person placed at the apex of the richest and mightiest nation in human history will one day be a senile Nazi with an axe to grind against anyone who’s ever wronged him. Every opportunity we had to undermine the power of these institutions and didn’t take it was a waste of good fortune and a crime against the future.
Drusus already senses these problems arising, even with Augustus still on the throne. In argument with his mother, who resents both Drusus and her first husband for harboring hopes for the return of the Republic, Drusus asks her if she wants Rome to be reduced to the open corruption of “the Eastern potentates,” upon which their civilization had always looked down. He sees how quickly these things fall apart, even with someone decent at the top.
And he dies for it.
I reviewed episode two of I, Claudius for Pop Heist. Watch along here and read along here!
‘Foundation’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 6: ‘The Shape of Time’
This is a plot-focused episode compared to its predecessors, relatively light on the sci-fi spectacle that’s Foundation’s hallmark. That’s fine — it’s good to bring things back down to earth a bit in order to advance the story.
But this is not to say it’s devoid of fascinating space-opera visuals. Demerzel pulling the Prime Radiant out of herself from between her robotic cleavage is an image that probably shouldn’t be as disconcertingly strange and sexy as it is. The coldwave psychedelia of their journey into the black hole is a bravura effect, reminiscent of Hari’s strange fractal freakouts while trapped within the Prime Radiant last season. And I love the design of Mycogen, which blends the familiar Blade Runner vibe of a decrepit futuristic city with the art nouveau beauty of a Peter Jackson Elf kingdom for its wealthier districts. I’m perpetually amazed by just how smart the design of this show is.
I keep coming back to poor oblivious Brother Day, though. His is the shock of any rich and powerful person when confronted with how normal people really think about them. Don’t you love me? I love me! I know it’s fake with all the others, but it’s real with me, right? Right? The belief of the mighty in their own irresistibility is a gap in their armor as clear and as vulnerable as the missing scale on the belly of Smaug the Golden. Great and terrible things can be done when it’s exploited.
‘Chief of War’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 4: ‘City of Flowers Part II’
Tell the Shōgun and Game of Thrones fans in your life now: Chief of War is the real deal.
‘Alien: Earth’ thoughts, Season 1, Episodes 1 and 2: ‘Neverland’ and ‘Mr. October’
Hawley is no stranger to playing with other people’s toys. He is also the creator of “Fargo,” the acclaimed crime anthology series based on the film by Joel and Ethan Coen, and “Legion,” an ambitious take on the Marvel Comics mutant character from the writer Chris Claremont and the artist Bill Sienkiewicz. But both of those shows draw from a wider set of influences than simply the work they’re named after; Hawley’s “Fargo,” for example, is a sort of “Songs in the Key of Coen” riff on the brothers’ entire oeuvre rather than just their snowy Minnesotan black comedy.
“Alien: Earth” casts a similarly wide net. In the closing credits, we read that the show is “based on elements created by Dan O’Bannon and Ronald Shusett,” who developed the first film’s original story (O’Bannon also wrote the screenplay). But obviously, the contributions of Giger, Scott, Cameron and Fincher are all in play as well.
Scott’s “Blade Runner” is referenced in the sprawling cityscape Prodigy City; in the models strutting and posing on oversized video screens; and in Olyphant’s strikingly coifed synthetic, who feels like a tip of the cap to Rutger Hauer’s character, Roy Batty. The creatures are reminiscent of similar beasts from Stephen King’s “It” and “The Mist.” Wendy’s plight bears the marks of the sci-fi anime classics “Akira” and “Battle Angel Alita.” Even the high-rise setting falls squarely in the action-movie lineage of “Die Hard,” “The Raid” and “Dredd.”
None of this is to say the show feels derivative. A product of its influences? Of course — this is franchise filmmaking. But Hawley’s homages are laser-precise. And they make use of techniques rarely seen on big-budget TV, like the leisurely zooms of 1970s cinema. Hawley brings his own penchant for dreamy montage to the proceedings as well, adding an aesthetic ingredient that is new to the setting.
‘I, Claudius’ thoughts, Episode 1: ‘A Touch of Murder’
I, Claudius feels weighty. A cast consisting almost solely of British acting royalty. A story about the mighty Roman Empire and the legendary (or infamous) men and women whose strength and cunning held it together (or tore it apart). Dialogue with a knack for sounding both casually naturalistic and as precisely calibrated as the finest poetry. A profound influence on such New Golden Age/Peak TV giants as David Chase and George R.R. Martin. Its legacy as a staple of the highfalutin line-up of PBS, back when our own empire believed in improving its subjects’ lives somewhat. How do you wrap your mind around a show with a reputation this sterling and imposing? How do you wrestle this masterpiece to the ground?
You do it in a pit of mud, that’s how. Sexy, sudsy, sinister, spearheaded by a cast that makes an absolute feast out of every betrayal and bon mot, I, Claudius is aimed at the gut and the groin as much as it’s aimed at the noggin.
‘Foundation’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 5: ‘Where Tyrants Spend Eternity’
Telling you that any given episode of Foundation kicks ass in five or six different ways seems to be the Prime Radiant’s prediction of my destiny, and far be it from me to deny the math: This episode of Foundation kicks ass in five or six different ways. Caitlin Parrish and Leigh Dana Jackson’s script is merciless, sullying a babyface character perhaps beyond salvation. It’s also dependent on not one but two characters, Gaal and the Mule, remaining several steps ahead of the audience, which in my case at least they certainly did. I always enjoy it when shows are smarter than I am.
As outer space spectacle, this remains a magnificent show. From Toran’s wounded ship skipping across space and down to the surface of their planet half destroyed, to the imposing enclosure of Kalgan by Empire’s ships, to the “cobalt spike” that burns the planet, even down to the red and green lighting of Dusk aboard his “black hole gun” weapon as he hears the news from Dawn, to the gravity-defying ways of the tubular planet where the Council meets, there’s virtually always something to feast on.
‘Chief of War’ thoughts, Episode 3: ‘City of Flowers Part I’
This show is full of surprises. With a one-year time jump, the relocation of a major character into a whole other world, and the introduction of perhaps the most major character of all, Chief of War has once again shaken itself up from one episode to the next. What impresses me most isn’t that it keeps introducing new wrinkles to what is at heart the simple story of a noble exile and an evil king, but how artfully it’s done.
‘Wednesday’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 4: ‘If These Woes Could Talk’
In terms of sheer imagemaking, this is Tim Burton’s best work on the show. In terms of overall quality across the board, this is the show’s best episode. It’s scary, it’s actually funny, it’s relatable (knock before you enter the room when your roommate’s in there, god!), it’s got that awesome orc-troll-Gollum-Large Marge monster design for Tyler, it’s got goth Patsy from AbFab, and it ends with the possibility of Wednesday Addams journeying to the realm of the dead for real. It makes me want to tune in next time, even if that’s a month away. That’s exactly what you want a midseason finale to do.
I reviewed the midseason finale of Wednesday for Decider. I liked this one!
‘Wednesday’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 3: ‘Call of the Woe’
So yeah, random animated sequences? Jenna Ortega and Catherine Zeta-Jones doing their best Uma Thurman/Lucy Liu impression? Horror comedy centered on a Luis Guzmán shower scene? Christina Ricci getting dragged before Thandiwe Newton in chains? It would be churlish to deny the show’s pleasures. But it would be foolish to deny the many ways it hobbled itself right out of the gate.
I reviewed the third episode of Wednesday Season 2 for Decider.
‘Wednesday’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 2: ‘The Devil You Woe’
It took me a minute, but I figured out what the second episode of Wednesday’s second installment reminds me of: Conan O’Brien’s old “Late Night’s Parade of Characters” bit. Hey, everyone, look! It’s Thandiwe Newton as a director of psychiatry for a hospital for the criminally insane! It’s Heather Matarazzo as the hospital’s chipper, ugly sweater–wearing personnel director! It’s Hunter Doohan returning as his evil Tyler/Hyde character, who’s now basically the Red Hulk! It’s Fred Armisen making an Uncle Fester Cameo for ten seconds! It’s Christopher Lloyd as a severed head in a robotic jar! It’s Catherine Zeta-Jones and Luis Guzmán as Morticia and Gomez, who are now series regulars because we realized the Addams Family is more interesting as a concept when it’s an actual family! And don’t forget Principal Evil Steve Buscemi! But wait — Morticia’s estranged Mama Hester is still on her way!
‘Wednesday’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 1: ‘Here We Woe Again’
So why did the series hit so big? The cast, plain and simple. Headlined by overnight sensation Jenna Ortega in the title role, supported by a breakout turn as Wednesday’s chipper werewolf sidekick Enid by Emma Myers, and augmented by a cast that included — let’s face it — certified dimepieces Catherine Zeta-Jones, Christina Ricci, Gwendoline Christie, Joy Sunday, Riki Lindhome, Hunter Doohan, and Percy Hynes White, the show felt more vivacious and charming than it actually was at any given time, just by virtue of how pleasant it was to watch these people act out their haunted-house hijinks. The flatness of any scene involving the badly miscast Luis Guzmán as family patriarch Gomez Addams shows how important the casting was to the overall project; it’s the exception that proves the rule.
‘The Prisoner’ thoughts, Episode 17: “Fall Out”
In the standard opening sequence of The Prisoner, the voice of the new Number Two tells Number Six that he and the masters of the Village want “information … information … information.” Some Number Twos deliver the latter two iterations of the word as if they’re a phrase: “In formation…in formation.” They want him to line up and march, like a good soldier.
The final episode of The Prisoner in every possible running order, “Fall Out” is named after a phrase with several meanings depending on whether it’s one word or two. “Fallout” means the often unfortunate ramifications of an action or event; more specifically, it also means the radioactive debris that rains down on the area surrounding a nuclear explosion. People “fall out” when they have a relationship-ending argument or disagreement. Objects “fall out” when they drop from a place they’d been secured.
In a way, all of those meanings apply to this episode, but none more so than this: Just as soldiers “fall in” when they get in line, they “fall out” when they break formation.
Far out even by Prisoner standards — far out even by “Once Upon a Time” standards, which was itself far out even by Prisoner standards — “Fall Out” is one of the most confrontational series finales ever aired. It’s a “Did you people think I was fucking around? Do you know what kind of show you’re dealing with here?” moment on par with the trial of the Seinfeld Four, Tony Soprano playing Journey at the diner, and the Lynchian un-resolutions of the two (!) Twin Peaks series finales. (The first one was so unresolved that the 25-year gap until Season 3 somehow felt logical — like, of course it would take everyone that long to recover from what happened at the end of Season 2.) It’s a finale that feels designed to be divisive.
I reviewed the series finale of The Prisoner for Pop Heist. This concludes my initial Prestige Prehistory project. I loved writing about this show!
‘Foundation’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 4: ‘The Stress of Her Regard’
The last word I wrote in my note s for this episode is “WOW.” TV should always be this beautiful, savage, and strange.
‘Chief of War’ thoughts, Episode 2: ‘Changing Tides’
Shows that launch with two or three episodes at once instead of a simple one-and-done series premiere always intrigue me. Is this just some random fluke of streaming services’ inexplicably bizarre release schedules, or is there some narrative or thematic logic to it? Are those first two or three episodes telling one big chapter of the larger story, or are they just, y’know, the first two or three episodes?
Chief of War’s second hour falls firmly in the latter category. In retrospect, the Chief of War we saw in the actual first episode was only half a show. We got to know the lay of the land, the sociopolitical circumstances, our hero, and his family. But we had yet to meet his co-protagonist, or encounter the world of white people, the boundaries of which are expanding all the time.
I reviewed the second episode of Chief of War for Decider.
‘Chief of War’ thoughts, Episode 1: ‘The Chief of War’
Blood, butts, boats, and beauty: There are worse foundations upon which to build your historical epic. Judging by the sheer quantity of each in the series premiere of Chief of War, Apple TV+’s brutal and beautiful new saga of war-torn late 18th century Hawaii, this show’s on solid ground. Filmed entirely in Hawaiian and fueled by the simmering star power of Jason Momoa, who co-created the show and co-wrote the episode with Thomas Pa‘a Sibbett, it’s proof that the “Game of Thrones but in the real world” success of Shōgun was no fluke. Executed with care and charisma, it’s a formula that works.
I’m covering the new Apple TV+ historical epic Chief of War for Decider, starting with my review of the series premiere. I really can’t emphasize this enough: Jason Momoa is bare-assed throughout.
‘The Prisoner’ thoughts, Episode 16: ‘Once Upon a Time’
You make a show like The Prisoner to make an episode like this.
Written and directed by creator and star Patrick McGoohan, the auteurist masterpiece “Once Upon a Time” is a clear move toward the series’ endgame, advancing the overarching plot (!), ending on a cliffhanger (!!!), and promising us that in the next episode both Number Six and we in the audience will, at long last, meet Number One (!!!!!!). That’s thrilling enough, and a textbook case of The Prisoner breaking the rules it’s established for itself in basically every way conceivable at one point or another.
But as important as all that is, as much as we’ve been waiting 16 episodes for it to happen, it pales in comparison to the execution. “Once Upon a Time” is one of the most boldly experimental episodes of television ever filmed. You’d have to fast forward to the finale of Twin Peaks Season 2 or the phantasmagorical eighth episode of Twin Peaks Season 3, I think, before you found anything comparable.
There have been other mightily sophisticated, groundbreaking, stylistically innovative shows that weren’t made by Patrick McGoohan, Mark Frost, or David Lynch, of course. But to cite two representative examples, The Sopranos‘ dream episodes are the clear product of the everyday mind of the main character, and Nicholas Winding Refn and Ed Brubaker’s magisterially bleak Too Old to Die Young operates in the same basic soporific register the entire time. Only in The Prisoner and Twin Peaks did things already start out “both wonderful and strange,” then somehow find a way to become wonderful and strange even by their own immeasurably lofty standards.
I reviewed the penultimate episode of The Prisoner for Pop Heist. Gift link!