I can’t tell you how much good it does my heart to watch a Star Wars show that’s horny. Actually horny, not just “oh look, it’s a hunky guy with his shirt off, aren’t we all excited” Kylo Ren/Steve Rogers/Disney horny. Horny enough to make Dedra Meero topping Syril Karn more or less canon. Horny enough to finally, finally have a queer kiss onscreen because, despite their danger, it’s been years, and Vel Sartha and Cinta Kaz can’t keep their hands off one another. Horny enough for Bix Caleen to only semi-jokingly ask her boyfriend, Cassian Andor, to bring his glamorous fashion-designer cover identity home with him one night so she can have sex with someone “very, very pretty.” I’m all for a smoldering kiss between Han Solo and Princess Leia, don’t get me wrong, but this is something else. This is sex, not romance, or not just romance, and it makes Andor feel alive even in the midst of death.
‘Andor’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 6: ‘What a Festive Evening’
‘Andor’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 5: ‘I Have Friends Everywhere’
Syril Karn is living the life of his dreams. He’s involved in highly classified work for the Imperial Security Bureau, pretending to chafe at the Empire’s yoke while secretly setting up its opponents for a sting. He’s working directly with his girlfriend, Dedra Meero, a relationship he has to keep a secret from everyone including his ghastly mother. In both cases, I can only imagine the thrill leading a double life gives to this man — particularly when one of those double lives involves Dedra in all black, commanding him to turn out the lights because they only have an hour together and they need to get down to business. Oooh-whee. Even though House of Cards creator Beau Willimon wrote this script, it feels like erotic fanfic where these two are concerned, and I mean that as a sincere compliment.
‘Andor’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 4: ‘Ever Been to Ghorman?’
But the highlight of the episode is quiet, wordless. It’s the moment of parting, when Cassian and Bix simply touch each other, hand to hand. Composer Nicholas Britell’s music is minimal yet lushly romantic here — like their love itself, I suppose, which they’ve forced into the tiny compartment left available for love by the world they inhabit. There’s something truly beautiful in that moment. These people are not deluding themselves that the world is okay, that life is okay, that their own lives are okay. But they love each other anyway, because while the government they live under does not value the things that make us human, we do, we can, and we must.
Sinners and its audience say fuck you to fascism
There is an audience — a massive one, as Sinners proves — for forceful fuck-yous to fascism, racism, willful ignorance, gleeful sociopathy. There’s nothing delicate, nothing safe about any of it, either. People want to see antivax moms get yelled at by the guy from ER. People want a supervillainous politician as openly awful as the people currently occupying the White House and Gracie Mansion, and they want heroes who’ll take the fight right to him and his goose-stepping thugs. (You would be shocked at the sheer number of uniformed NYPD the Punisher murders alone.) They want to watch the Empire go down in flames not just at the hands of sword-wielding space wizards, but regular people who said enough of this shit and had the courage to walk the talk.
They want to see the Klan dead, and they want to see it happen at a Black man’s hands. They’re rewarding the movie that serves this up as its grand finale with history-making amounts of money.
I wrote about Ryan Coogler’s Sinners, as well as Andor, Daredevil: Born Again, and The Pitt, in a new piece for Welcome to Hell World on audiences’ voracious hunger for watching cool tough people stomp fascism into the dirt.
‘MobLand’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 5: “Funeral for a Friend”
There are no bloody stabbings in this episode, no fight scenes, no gun battles. The only pyrotechnics to speak of — I mean, other than the car bombing — come from the tension between the Stevensons and the Harrigans, embodied in the gritted-teeth determination projected by actors Geoff Bell and Pierce Brosnan as their respective bosses. Tom Hardy remains excellent as a man who doesn’t necessarily always stay cool, but does alway stay under control. Helen Mirren is having a ball as Maeve grows increasingly ambitious and unhinged. As he did on House of the Dragon, Paddy Considine excels as a guy who’s doing a basically okay job as a figure of importance but who’d probably be better suited doing literally everything else.
And director Daniel Syrkin peppers the thing with the occasional lovely vista: Conrad fishing as night falls over his country house, Harry on his balcony looking out over the nighttime city. The Fontaines D.C. theme song, “Starburster,” whips ass. In short, MobLand is good gangster TV.
‘The Last of Us’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 3: ‘The Path’
You can feel it right away. Even though it’s three months after the episode’s opening — in which a badly traumatized Ellie wakes up screaming in a hospital after witnessing her father figure Joel’s execution — and the good people of Jackson Hole are busy rebuilding in the spring sunshine, the sense of loss is palpable. I’m not talking about the dozens of citizens killed by the infected during their incursion into the fortified city. I’m not even talking about the death of Joel himself, not exactly.
Pedro Pascal isn’t on this show anymore!
‘Andor’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 3: ‘Harvest’
Andor feels designed to prove that the Star Wars setting can do anything any other science fiction can do. If it’s ugly, if it’s sexy, if it’s violent, if it’s pathetic, if it’s human, it can be done way out there just as surely as it can be done down here. The Star Wars branding is just plausible deniability. This isn’t a show about the Empire and the Rebellion. It’s a show about us, because we’re both.
‘Andor’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 2: ‘Sagrona Teema’
The second of three episodes released simultaneously as this season’s opening “chapter,” this episode doesn’t pack the wallop of its predecessor. That’s understandable: The thrill of being the first new episode of Andor in two years is something you can really only capture once, even if you’re debuting three of them at a time. Since the first episode already gave us the “where are they now” for almost all of these characters, there isn’t that same rush of new information to contend with either.
For the most part, anyway. Dedra and Syril forming a romantic relationship is a genuine shock. Dedra running her thumb tenderly around Syril’s mouth because her baby’s afraid of his mom is an even bigger shock. I genuinely didn’t think she had it in her! But fascists are human too, which makes this scene even creepier. Watching a genocidal space Nazi comfort the man who loves her is like watching a Black Lodge entity pretend to be human on Twin Peaks. It’s uncanny, and it only gets more so the closer to human they get.
I reviewed the second episode of Andor Season 2 for Decider.
‘Andor’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 1: ‘One Year Later’
There comes a time when the price of inaction outweighs the price of action. There comes a time when the cost of living with your failure to do something outstrips the cost of doing something and paying the price. What Andor’s talking about is integrity — integrating your thoughts and your words with your actions. Anything less is a betrayal of your soul, and on some level you know it. That’s why committing to the fight against oppression feels so freeing. It’s not because you’re now in less danger, quite the opposite. It’s because it makes you feel like a whole human, maybe for the first time ever. Andor’s quest is to capture that feeling and transmit it to the viewer. What you do with it next is up to you.
I reviewed the season premiere of Andor for Decider. This is one of the best television shows of al ltime.
‘The Last of Us’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 2: ‘Through the Valley’
Sure, okay.
This is the big shocking episode of The Last of Us this season, I guess, the one designed to throw the viewer off balance and generate “I can’t believe they did that!” buzz. The problem is that nearly 12 years after the Red Wedding, that particular party trick is played out. I don’t mind that this episode, just the second of the show’s second season, kills off Pedro Pascal’s lead character, Joel — and that’s the problem. I don’t mind, and I don’t care.
‘MobLand’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 4: “Rat Trap”
It occurs to me now that Harry is a Mike Ehrmantraut, as in the similarly employed cartel fixer from Better Call Saul and Breaking Bad. Played by Jonathan Banks with the same kind of seen-it-all sad-sack professionalism Tom Hardy brings to Harry, he’s a character far more likeable than the things he does would lead you believe if you heard about them in a vacuum. Harry is a huge piece of shit, but he’s also Tom Hardy, making the most of his natural gift of coming across like a hard man with a heart of caramel. In wrestling parlance, he’s a tweener, a guy with heel tendencies who’s treated like a face by the audience. You want him to succeed, despite yourself.
‘The Wheel of Time’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 8: ‘He Who Comes with the Dawn’
I’m fine with how open-ended all of this is. A lot is contingent on whether or not we get a season four — and a season five and six, and however many seasons it will take to adapt Robert Jordan’s sprawling saga. But The Wheel of Time is the strangest, most colorful large-scale fantasy on TV. It’s like doing Game of Thrones using the storytelling language of the Star Wars prequels, and I mean that as a compliment. This world feels gigantic and weird in a way few others do. I’m happy to follow its countless characters as they wander through it.
I reviewed the Season 3 finale of The Wheel of Time for Vulture.
‘The Last of Us’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 1: ‘Future Days’
The deck is stacked from the start. As the new season of The Last of Us begins, survivors of a massacre bury their dead. They’re the Fireflies, members of a scattered network of rebels fighting the fascist government that took over in the wake of the cordyceps outbreak that killed or zombified billions. (Ah yes, those happy golden bygone days when we thought it would take an evil fungus for fascism to come to America.) The perpetrator of the massacre was no jackbooted government lackey, though. Nor was it the monstrous and powerful infected known as “clickers” for their method of echolocation. It was Joel (Pedro Pascal), our player character — ahem, our protagonist.
And what choice did the writers — sorry, the Fireflies — leave him? Either he killed them or they would kill his adoptive daughter, Ellie (Bella Ramsey). Sure, if they did so it might enable them analyze why she’s immune to infection (she was exposed to a minuscule amount of the fungus during birth), and thus find a cure for cordyceps and save the world. But a real man does whatever he has to protect his family, or something.
The whole killcrazy climax to the show’s first season was frustrating because it set up a false binary, a choice between individual and collective needs. Reality is not a zero-sum contest between you and everyone else — only fascists believe otherwise — and genre stories that make such a conflict their central moral dilemma are playing fast and loose with how morality actually works.
We’re not five minutes into the Season 2 premiere when writer-director-co-creator Craig Mazin does it again. The surviving Fireflies are led by Abby (Kaitlyn Dever), who’s born-again hard from the ordeal. Not only does she want to track down and kill Joel with the other survivors’ help, she wants to kill him slowly. She repeats the word for clarity and everything.
Once again, The Last of Us is not-so-subtly nudging us in the direction they want our sympathies to go. If this were a simple case of a gaggle of survivors hunting down and shooting the outlaw who gunned down their kinsfolk, we’d probably still be rooting for Joel — he’s Pedro Pascal, for god’s sake — but we’d at least sympathize with their goal. Torturing Joel to death is a bridge too far when you’ve spent a season asking us to identify with the guy, in a story based on an art form where identifying with the protagonist is baked right into the game mechanics. We can’t root for Abby now. That’s The Last of Us for you: It’s always less complex than it looks.
I reviewed the season premiere of The Last of Us for Decider.
‘MobLand’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 3: ‘Plan B’
“I said if you help the Harrigans, the Harrigans will help you. You have not helped the Harrigans. Not at all. Okay? So now I, Kevin here, he’s gonna lose his family, I’m gonna lose my family, both of us are gonna die, and others, yeah? Thanks to you, okay, and Eddie. So I don’t think it’s very fair that you don’t share in some of that joy, you understand.”
Harry Da Souza has a strange way of speaking. Understatement is one of his primary rhetorical devices: “You have not helped the Harrigans” to a man who helped conceal a war-starting murder. “I don’t think it’s very fair” that you don’t die along with the rest of us. I keep circling back to that big in the first episode where he tells an eyewitness that unless he cooperates, either Harry “or one of my associates, depending upon my availability” will kill him for it. He’s a man with the power of life and death, but he talks like a slightly peeved Nando’s manager.
He peppers his speech with little stops and starts, little marks of inquisition designed to give the listener no other choice but to agree with him. Look at that paragraph above, the way it’s dotted with “Okay? Yeah? Okay. You understand.” It sounds like he’s merely commiserating with his interlocutor, relating to him, saying “obviously you and I agree that this is simple common sense,” even as he’s threatening to kill the man and his wife and children.
‘Yellowjackets’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 10: ‘Full Circle’
So now, here, in the the tenth episode of the third season, Yellowjackets finally explains why none of this shit ever came up before now: the magic of memory suppression! All of a sudden, we start hearing about how hard it’s been for the adults to remember what happened to them out there — not because it was so bad, according to Shauna, but because it was so good! The experience of hunting and eating people to honor a Wilderness demon made them “so alive in that place that we lost our capacity for self-reflection,” according to Shauna. “We can’t or won’t remember it clearly because we recognize, deep down, that we were having so much fun.” That’s why Shauna acted like a nincompoop instead of a sociopath all this time, you see. “I let it all slip away from me,” she writes. “It’s time to start taking it back.”
Long past time, if you ask me! It’s now apparent that Yellowjackets‘ own structure prevents it from working. It creates a scenario in which the filmmakers cannot be honest with or about the adult characters, because doing so would spoil the teenage material. This creates an obvious qualitative discrepancy between the two storylines. If this had been a show just about the kids, that would be something. If the adult material had been presented seriously, without holding back just what they did out there and why, and with the adult characters’ personalities existing in continuity with what happened back then, that would be something. What we got is neither.
I reviewed the season finale of Yellowjackets for Pop Heist.
Rami Malek, Professional Outcast, Becomes ‘The Amateur’
You have an unusual screen presence. Your demeanor is a bit twitchy and unpredictable, and your look is striking. The cinematographer of “Mr. Robot,” Tod Campbell, once told me he had to change the lenses he was shooting with to better capture the beauty of your eyes.
[Smiling] No, look, I know I’m a very unique individual. My mannerisms are unique. My speech is unique. There’s a certain flicker behind my eyes that you can’t necessarily compare to anyone else — that’s what I’ve been told, at least. The camera has an ability to capture every essence of that. Perhaps it can see too much, at times. Perhaps it’s a deficit of mine. But I’ve found a way to embrace it, and the world has too, in a way. Most importantly, it helps the outcasts, the misfits, those who feel disenfranchised or alienated or just, for lack of a better word, different, feel more at home and at peace in their own skin, behind their own unique eyes.
‘The Wheel of Time’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 7: ‘Goldeneyes’
When those trollocs and darkfriends come over the barricades obstructed by Perrin and his people, you can really see them coming, and you can really see what the people of the Two Rivers do to beat them back. The individual heroism of the townsfolk, the supernatural aid of Alanna and the local channelers with whom she links to fuel her ice attack on the enemy — it’s crystal clear.
Equally clear is the geography of the battlefield, which is a key element of successful combat filmmaking dating back to Helm’s Deep and The Two Towers. Perrin, Alanna, and the others have narrowed the approaches to the village down to just one, a narrow mountain pass that’s easily defended. When superior numbers and the temporary wounding of Alanna render the position untenable, the defenders fall back to the town gates and walls. When those fall, they retreat to the town square, forming an old-school phalanx and defending on all sides.
This renders the stakes of the battle easy to understandat all times. If we win, we hold our ground. If we lose, we fall back, until there’s nowhere else to fall back to. Clear, intelligible, physical consequences for success or failure in combat are crucial to building effective battle sequences, and Wheel comfortably passes that test this week.
I reviewed this week’s episode of The Wheel of Time for Vulture.