Ah, the simple pleasures of Silo. It’s a show I look forward to watching and writing about every week, because it’s a show that, to paraphrase the Sex Pistols, knows what it wants and knows how to get it. Its aim is to explore a central mystery — who’s keeping everyone inside this Silo and why — and it does that. Its technique is to use the fundamental building blocks of suspense filmmaking — cat and mouse games, races against the clock, a drip-drip-drip of clues — and it does so with skill and panache. If this sounds like I’m damning it with faint praise, then I’m misspeaking, because it really is a formidable achievement. Lots and lots and lots of science fiction shows try and fail to achieve what Silo makes look easy.
“Silo” thoughts, Season One, Episode Seven: “The Flamekeepers”
“The Idol” thoughts, Season One, Episode One: “Pop Tarts & Rat Tales”
So, my point. Based on all of this — the constant joking at the expense of the scandal mill and the people who get paid either to feed or defeat it, the casual assertion that what’s depicted in the photo is nbd (the real issue is that it got leaked, and that half her entourage is trying to treat it as a glass-half-full situation), the depiction of Tedros as a Kramer-esque goof who nonetheless has the kavorka — I have a hard time looking at The Idol as exploiting any of this behavior, let alone endorsing it. It seems pretty clear where the show stands on all that.
For example, can anyone take the ranting about intimacy coordinators being a pain in the ass done by Joss’s creative director Xander (Sivan) seriously, given that at no point are any of these people treated as being serious? Or his counterintuitive insistence that Joss breaking the intimacy rider already agreed to is about bodily autonomy, when he then spends the rest of the episode’s first act hiding some pretty important news involving her bodily autonomy from her? Again, I feel like this is all pretty clear.
None of this is to say that it isn’t sleazy as shit. Oh, it’s hugely sleazy! But it’s a familiar kind of sleaze: visually, sonically, thematically, locationally, in its use of comedy and nudity and perverse sex, this is an erotic thriller in the mode of the genre’s semi-satirists, Brian De Palma and Paul Verhoeven. The wider genre is very much in vogue at the moment, but despite watching a lot of horny television, I haven’t seen anything else working in this specific, spectacularly tasteless mold. I for one am all for it.What do you think? Be the first to comment.
Because given sufficient skill — and true, it takes a lot to reach sufficiency — you kind of can have your cake and eat it too with this stuff. You can, as Nikki says in her opening woke has gone mad–style monologue, “let people like sex, drugs, and hot girls,” while also making them uncomfortable with, and even making fun of them for, liking it. The real trick though, is to then make them sit with how being made to feel uncomfortable adds to their enjoyment.
“Silo” thoughts, Season One, Episode Six: “The Relic”
“What if everything you know to be true, everything you’ve been told by the people you love, was in fact just one big lie?” Good question, George Wilkins! And the beauty of it is that like so much of Silo, it has a double meaning. The surface one, the obvious one, is your bog-standard dystopian Everything You Thought You Knew Was Wrong boilerplate, a rebel telling the woman he loves why he’s rebelling, because he believes the Silo is built on bullshit.
The other meaning — the more insidious one for said woman, Juliette Nichols — is that she’s not the woman he loves, because he doesn’t really love her at all. At least according to his ex-girlfriend Regina Jackson (Sonita Henry), George is, or was, a serial user of people, women in particular, who could get him closer to the only thing he really does care about: the forbidden history of the Silo and the world that surrounds it.
Don’t worry, I’m not bragging about sussing out this dual interpretation. The show is not subtle about all this. Nor does it need to be. Silo, as I’ve said before, is a simple show rather than a simplistic one. It has one big central mystery — loosely, “What’s the deal with the Silo?” — as its core support pillar, and wraps everything else around that, from sub-mysteries to world-building to character development — around that pillar like the spiral stairs at the center of the Silo itself.
“Silo” thoughts, Season One, Episode Five: “The Janitor’s Boy”
Tim Robbins is here to remind you he’s a movie star. Not through anything flashy or theatrical, mind you — just through his ability to play the most mild-mannered character on this show and still come across as the most fascinating and charismatic guy in any room he’s in.
As played by Robbins, Bernard, the new mayor of the titular Silo, is an interesting cat. From what we’ve seen from him so far, he displays both the gentle arrogance of an expert in his field (IT) and the quietude of someone unused to relating to other people in a personal way, which is another form of arrogance I suppose. His gestures at camaraderie are simultaneously ineffective and endearing: his corny joke at Mayor Jahns’s funeral about filling her very big shoes, but not literally, since her feet were actually small (you can all but see his mental note: “Pause for laughter”); his offering of a drink to the Silo’s other officials, then his silent “okay, more for me then” affect as he consolidates the glasses he’s already poured and takes a swig.
“Fatal Attraction” thoughts, Season One, Episode Eight: “Storytelling”
In short, Fatal Attraction is a remake where the game is worth the candle, one that honors the anxieties that animate the original while jettisoning its thriller approach in favor of something both more expansive and more humane. And unlike the original, the story does not end when the monster is destroyed and the status quo is restored so that everyone can live happily ever after; the damage lives on, and another monster may have been born in the bargain. Filled with memorable performances from terrific actors, it’s one of the best-written shows of the year. Let’s hope it’s one of the best-written shows of next year thanks to a second-season renewal, too. It’s earned one.
I reviewed the season finale of Fatal Attraction for Decider.
“Fatal Attraction” thoughts, Season One, Episode Seven: “Best Friends”
Two words come to mind when describing Episode 7 of Fatal Attraction: emotional abattoir. That’s the environment Alex Forrest grew up in, as we learn in the series of flashbacks that give this episode its spine. And the moment I realized that’s where this was headed, that the kid we were watching play mini-golf in the opening scene while her father ignored her to flirt with another woman was Alex, I could feel my whole body tense. I knew we were about to examine the family dynamic that made her into what she eventually became, I knew it would be horrific, and I was right.
I reviewed the penultimate episode of Fatal Attraction‘s (hopefully) first season for Decider.
“Yellowjackets” thoughts, Season Two, Episode Nine: “Storytelling”
I came into the Yellowjackets season finale expecting it to be brutal. Well, it was brutal alright, just not in the way I hoped it would be. Folks, we need to talk about needledrops, specifically all the ones on this show. Simply put, Yellowjackets has the worst music supervision on television, and it’s fucking the rest of the show up, bad.
Seriously. “Zombie” by the Cranberries as everyone staggers back to the cabin with Javi’s corpse in tow, eyes glassy, completely drained, shuffling around like, you guessed it, zombies. “Street Spirit (Fade Out)” by Radiohead as Natalie hallucinates being back on the crashing plane as she dies from an accidental lethal injection by Misty before, you guessed it, fading out. “The Killing Moon” by Echo and the Bunnymen, one of the most overused music cues of the past two decades (which should have been retired after its pitch perfect usage by Richard Kelly in Donnie Darko), as the surviving kids stand outside their burning cabin, looking forward to a future of, you guessed it, killing people under the moonlight.
Every song is hugely famous already, carrying tons of preexisting emotional weight, and used to the most literal effect possible, like a sort of musical Cliff’s Notes for what’s happening and how we’re supposed to feel about it. It’s all so blunt, so artless. It makes Stranger Things sound like The Sopranos. (Nora Felder, who took over from Euphoria’s Jen Malone on music supervision duties this season, also handled Stranger Things, to which I can only say no shit.)
I reviewed the season finale of Yellowjackets for Decider. Woof.
“Fatal Attraction” thoughts, Season One, Episode Six: “The Dillingers”
But the show’s sophistication is present in more than how its characters talk to one another — it’s in why they talk to certain people the way they do. On a show like Tara Hernandez and Damon Lindelof’s Mrs. Davis, the main character’s occupation as a nun, as clergy for the Roman Catholic Church, is treated as a quirky detail, an excuse for running around having wacky adventures in a fun costume, and the setup for an admittedly very surprising and funny twist — but that’s it. The fact that being a part of the structure of a specific religion has a specific political valence goes completely unremarked upon.
Not so here. Much to my surprise and delight, much of this episode of Fatal Attraction (“The Dillingers”) explores how poorly people treat Dan and Mike in the present, not because they’re a disgraced ex-DA and ex-cop respectively, but because they were ever a DA and a cop at all. These are political jobs, and politics have real-world consequences on real people’s lives, and people justifiably hate them for that, and Dan and Mike are not excepted simply because they’re the main characters, or because they’re played by actors we like.
I reviewed this week’s episode of Fatal Attraction, which is very good, for Decider.
“Silo” thoughts, Season One, Episode Four: “Truth”
Setting a show in world this insular and claustrophobic requires an attention to fine detail when working with the characters who inhabit it. True, it’s the kind of genre storytelling painted with very broad strokes, so I’m not expecting these people to suddenly become the cast of The Sopranos or Mad Men or Halt and Catch Fire. But what writer Rémi Aubuchon (PSA: The writers of the WGA deserve fair treatment and fair pay from the enormous corporations that profit off their labor), director David Semel, and actors Amelie Child-Villiers and Iain Glen achieve here is extraordinary nonetheless. You can feel how real the crack-up between them is — stemming from their exhaustion and frustration at the end of their respective days, triggered by the sudden clangor of the alarm and the threat of the smoke, built up over time as Juliette grew to resent her father for keeping her at a distance and her father grew to resent himself for doing so as well.
Thanks to Child-Villiers you can hear the absolute misery in Juliette’s voice as she runs from the room, blocked by Semel so that her back is turned to both her father and the camera as she mourns for the childhood she’s losing and blames him for the loss. Glen (very convincingly de-aged by makeup, a wig, and I’d imagine a little bit of digital sleight-of-hand) holds back just long enough before delivering the doctor’s retort to convey the fact that this is a failure of self-control for him; he knows he should not play tit for tat with his grieving daughter, but his pain is such that he can’t stop himself from venting it.
Taken in totality, this scene gives what could be a rote partial-orphan origin story for Juliette (genre fiction absolutely loves killing off its protagonists’ mothers) and makes it something raw and lived-in. This in turn makes the Silo feel less like something from a YA novel you read and forget about and more like a real place, with real people in it. It’s an achievement.
“Yellowjackets” thoughts, Season Two, Episode Eight: “It Chooses”
This is all terrific stuff, frankly. (Kudos to writers Sarah L. Thompson and Liz Phang; writers are responsible for all your favorite shows and deserve fair treatment and fair pay!) It really, really is about time that Yellowjackets got around to portraying its teenage characters as feral cannibals in the making; as I hoped and predicted, the combination of Shauna’s baby dying in the past and the whole gang reuniting in the present has marked a turning point for the show. None of them will ever be able to walk back what they were planning to do, and what they’re going to do instead. It’s the hidden shame beneath every interaction the adult characters have had.
“Mrs. Davis” thoughts, Season One, Episode Eight: “THE FINAL INTERCUT: So I’m Your Horse”
But take heed of Joy’s words to Simone, who tracks her down thanks to that repetitive glitch we kept hearing when she’d talk to the app via proxy, culminating in that big serenade of “Electric Avenue.” (That’s where Joy lives.) Mrs. Davis isn’t a she, Joy says, but an it. Algorithms aren’t a form of life; they’re code. They don’t have subconsciouses; they have subroutines. They don’t have mothers; they have coders. It’s not just that the quest Mrs. Davis assigned to Simone is dumb; it’s that all algorithms are “super dumb.”
This is the kind of energy we need in 2023, as our tech and business overlords try to convince us that AI is learning, growing, and experiencing organisms capable of replacing virtually all human endeavors. They’re just moronic computer programs that plagiarize Wikipedia and make pictures of fake people with 17 fingers. That’s it! Algorithms are not inevitable, and they don’t have intelligence, not any more than Pong was an Olympic table-tennis champion.
The episode’s problem — the whole show’s problem, in fact — is that its valuable insights kind of begin and end there.
I reviewed the season (series?) finale of Mrs. Davis for Vulture.
“Silo” thoughts, Season One, Episode Three: “Machines”
What follows plays out like a class demonstration in how to execute a thriller sequence. The mission? Simple: Shut down the generator, fix it, and start it back up. The risks? The steam could blow, the repairs could fail, the workers could die. The stakes? The future of the Silo. That’s all you need to know to enjoy the white-knuckle stuff that follows. Keep it simple, stupid.
What’s more, every individual step within that simple plan is described, depicted, and executed with clarity and verve. The show establishes the major players — Juliette, her boss Knox (Shane McRae), her apprentice Cooper (Matt Gomez Hidaka), and her colleague Shirley (Remmie Milner) — and gives them all easily understood jobs to do — Juliette IDs the problem and then descends into the steam hatch room to cool it down with a fire hose; Cooper reinstalls the repaired rotor blade he and Juliette remove; Shirley monitors the situation in the steam room; Knox watches over the whole thing, communicating messages from one person to the next.
It’s easy to understand where everyone is in relationship to one another in the space of the big machinery chamber. It’s easy to understand the kind of damage they’ll incur if things go wrong — from a fall, from getting hit by machinery, from drowning, from burning. It’s easy to understand how much time they have left, and to feel the tension mount along with them as that time ticks away faster than they’d anticipated. And finally, it’s easy to feel the same relief and triumph they do when they pull it all off just in the nick of time.
Meanwhile, the recognizable, analog, industrial nature of all the machinery — it’s all blades and bolts and pipes and valves and big steel plates — only helps us intuit exactly what could go wrong and how bad going wrong would be. This goes double or triple for Juliette, whose fear of drowning (presumably that’s how her mom and/or brother died) has already been established; Rebecca Ferguson’s guttural shrieks of terror as the water rises around her in the steam hatch chamber are convincing and effective.
Seriously, from top to bottom, it’s crackerjack genre filmmaking. It’s also a marked contrast from the main-character switcheroos that characterized the first two episodes. This one’s based on action, and the action is damn good.
“Silo” thoughts, Season One, Episode Two: “Holston’s Pick”
I like a mystery box show that isn’t in a big rush to show off how mysterious the box is. Shotgunning holy shit, what’s going on, everything we thought we knew was wrong moments at the viewer is seen as a shortcut to intrigue, a way to get people hooked early and hooked hard. More often than not, though, it obscures whatever other ideas the show may have about itself, its characters, its world, its worldview. I already know something mysterious is going on; I don’t need to be frogmarched past hidden door after hidden door and treasure chest after treasure chest and hidden connection after hidden connection just for my interest to be held. Like, what’s the hurry? You got a hot date or something, mystery box show?
So kudos to the second episode of Silo (“Holston’s Pick”) for playing things out with focus and restraint. Instead of going all 1899 on us and flipping everything upside-down just as we’re getting the lay of the land, it simply burrows deeper into the mysteries we’re already familiar with.
“Silo” thoughts, Season One, Episode One: “Freedom Day”
I’ll say this right up front: Silo will not wow you. This is not a big, bold, bizarre, frightening science-fiction vision in the vein of Netflix’s marvelous Dark or HBO Max’s late, lamented Raised by Wolves. It’s more in the vein of Apple+’s own Foundation: adapted from a series of novels, given a decent budget and a solid cast, and aimed right down the middle at the kinds of folks who like to open up streaming apps and watch science fiction shows. There are a lot of people like that, and so there have been a lot of shows like that too. Which is fine.
I’m covering Silo for Decider, starting with my review of the series premiere.
“Fatal Attraction” thoughts, Season One, Episode Five: “Medial Woman”
I bring all this up not to suggest that Dan is, like, a really terrible guy or anything. (It was always weird when people acted like Don Draper’s infidelity was somehow on par with Walter White killing loads of people on the “I Hate This Antihero” scale.) I bring it up to point out that the real attraction of Fatal Attraction isn’t how it does or doesn’t mirror the dynamics and major moments of the movie, but the dialogue the show serves its participants. Writers Kevin J. Hynes, Tandace Khorrami, and James Dearden, *LOWERS SHADES TO LOOK YOU DEAD IN THE EYE* who like all union writers should be paid and treated fairly by the Hollywood studios by the way, continue the show’s tradition of simply giving Amanda Peet, Toby Huss, Joshua Jackson, Lizzy Caplan, and Alyssa Jirrels interesting things to say and interesting ways of saying them.
I reviewed the most recent episode of Fatal Attraction for Decider.
“Mrs. Davis” thoughts, Season One, Episode Seven: “Great Gatsby 2001: A Space Odyssey”
Hold on, I’m getting a message from a hidden resistance cell dedicated to thwarting the onslaught of AI. A top-secret organization called the WGA? Anyway, they say that Jason Ning and Jonny Sun wrote this episode of Mrs. Davis and that without union screenwriters, everything any of us have ever read, written, or posted about television shows like Mrs. Davis would not be possible. Huh, sounds like those writers should be paid and treated fairly. Something to consider!
“Yellowjackets” thoughts, Season Two, Episode Seven: “Burial”
New theme song! Gutting secret confessions! Intense grief! Thwarted suicide attempt! Hallucinatory parrot-based musical theater interlude! Multiple total breaks with reality! Savage Fight Club–style beatdown! Gahhh, there’s so much to talk about in Yellowjackets Season 2 Episode 7…and it’s thanks to the work of writers Rich Monahan and Liz Phang that we get to watch and talk about any of it at all. The union writers of the WGA deserve to be paid and treated fairly by the major studios — surely not even the Antler Queen herself would be evil enough to disagree with that!
At any rate, last week I speculated that in simultaneously reuniting all the known survivors in the past and killing Shauna’s baby in the present, Yellowjackets may have reached a major inflection point, moving from being one kind of show into being something else. I think the new version of the theme song — quieter, more somber, and performed by Alanis Morrisette — may be an indication that creators Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson and showrunner Jonathan Lisco agree. You can’t do either those things and then go on as if two major, major milestones haven’t been reached, and now passed.
“Yellowjackets” thoughts, Season Two, Episode Six: “Qui”
It feels like Yellowjackets is about to change, and for the better. In fact, maybe it’s already happened. In Season 2 Episode 6 (“Qui”), momentous events take place in both the present and the past. In the former, the gang’s all here: Shauna, Taissa, Misty, Natalie, Van, and Lottie end the episode face to face for the first time in 25 years, each bearing the weight of her own secrets and regrets; the unspecified terrible things they did in the woods loom over them like a threatening wave.
And in the past, the moment the survivors have waited for for months has finally arrived: Shauna gives birth. A full episode passes before we really learn how that birth turns out. It’s another point of no return.
I reviewed last week’s episode of Yellowjackets for Decider.
“Fatal Attraction” thoughts, Season One, Episode Four: “Beautiful Mosaics”
So yeah, I’m still in on what Fatal Attraction is doing. It’s not the stylish, sexy, nasty, almost expressionistic exploration of male desire, insecurity, and guilt that the movie was, but it doesn’t want to be, and I won’t hold that against it — not when it’s providing so many simple pleasures in exchange.
I reviewed this week’s episode of Fatal Attraction for Decider.
“Mrs. Davis” thoughts, Season One, Episode Six: “Alison Treasures: A Southern California Story”
It can be said without fear of contradiction that this is the least zany episode of Mrs. Davis yet. Except for the part when David Arquette goes undercover as a nun. Or the scene where Jesus permits Simone to fuck her ex-boyfriend. Or the deal when a copy of Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged unlocks a secret chamber with a Star Wars trash compactor–style security mechanism. Or the reveal that there’s a fully accurate replica of the office with the secret chamber and trash compactor on a soundstage in Altadena. Or the lengthy animatic depicting how Simone’s dad rigged a corpse to be dissolved in acid and ooze a wave of viscera all over the set of a local morning show in Reno. Or the way good sex warps you to Jesus’ restaurant right in the middle of it — no matter how half- or fully naked you are at the time.
But yeah, other than that? Pretty straightforward stuff!