As Jade and Mrs. Bailey discuss Jade’s dire situation, cheerful “Hello!” and “Bienvenue!” signs hang in the background. A few minutes after chasing down and arresting a child for conspiracy to commit murder, Bascombe takes his son out for chips and a soda. Yards away from the murder scene, children play on a playground. Everything is terrible, but for our children’s sake we pretend that life goes on.
‘Adolescence’ thoughts, Episode 2
‘Adolescence’ thoughts, Episode 1
What long takes offer a show like this is a vital ingredient: tedium. I’m dead serious, too. Think of any time you’ve been parked in some institutional space or another — a school, a court, a hospital — knowing your life is about to change forever but unable to fast-forward to the moment that change actually occurs. It’s maddeningly boring, a boredom made all the worse by your body’s flight-or-fight activation. It’s almost unbearable.
So it is here. When Bascombe and Frank make unpleasant small talk about Bascombe’s digestive issues prior to the raid, we’re there for every second of it. We’re there for every second of terror as the rest of the family stands or lies around with cops’ guns pointed at them as Jamie is arrested. We’re there in the police van as Jamie is driven to the station, sobbing. We’re there as he’s made to answer various questions and endure various inspections. We’re there with his family in the waiting room. We follow cops and lawyers around not just when they’re actually doing something, but when they’re making their long walks through this unpleasant place to wherever they need to go to do those things.
Even before the long closing shot, we’re being made to sit with it, to sit with it all. The confusion, the frustration, the unexpected moments of kindness, the obsequious fawning of the family for being shown even the slightest consideration — when Barlow informs Eddie that the cops likely have very strong evidence on his son, Eddie ends the conversation with a crushingly informal thanks of “ta” — it all feels more real because we’ve watched it all unfold in real time, without a moment’s respite, even during the stuff normal films and shows would trim for being unnecessary. Again, the unnecessary is the essence of art. (By some definitions, art is inherently unnecessary, or else it would be some other thing.)
I reviewed the first episode of Adolescence, which is extraordinary, for Decider.
‘Yellowjackets’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 6: ‘Thanksgiving (Canada)’
Fantastic stuff from top to bottom, really. Ben’s fate is bleaker and more brutal than anything I’d anticipated. His death gives several characters — Natalie, Misty, Shauna, Lottie, and Akilah, who’s now having stop-motion animation visions of three-eyed bear-wolf hybrids — their strongest material of the season. Sophie Thatcher in particular stands out as Natalie, whose very soul you can see buckling under the weight of all its been asked to endure. She makes the character as we come to know her later make sense, which hasn’t quite been possible in many other cases.
‘Severance’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 9: ‘The After Hours’
There’s only one episode left in this season of Severance. Isn’t that a pip? Of the nine episodes that have aired so far, fully four of them broke the mold of the show entirely: The cast is on an outdoor excursion, or Harmony Cobel travels to her hometown, or we get lost in Gemma and Mark’s memories, or we pretend Bob Balaban and Alia Shawkat are on the show now for an hour. All of this has been varying degrees of fun.
But it might have been more fun than it was wise. This week’s penultimate episode of Season 2 really makes you realize just how much you haven’t learned about what’s actually going on, and how much you haven’t seen the core cast interact, and how much it isn’t like the first season that brought the audience of Apple TV+’s most buzzworthy show to the dance. I’m not sure it’s a tradeoff I’d have made, is what I’m saying.
‘The Wheel of Time’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 3: ‘Seeds of Shadow”
The Wheel of Time is a show I enjoy, but I still feel that every recap ought to begin with “Okay, how much time ya got?” There’s just so much going on, involving so many people in so many places with so many quests for so many objects because of so many prophecies. I find this fun, more or less, but I can understand people who land on “less.” Clearly, its memorable standalone sequences and moments of passion and sensuality are the show’s real power, the way it delivered its knockout blows during season two. I’m waiting patiently to be coldcocked.
I reviewed the third episode of The Wheel of Time‘s triple-decker Season 3 premiere for Decider.
‘The Wheel of Time’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 2: ‘A Question of Crimson’
The good news is that due to one of those cockamamie streaming-service release schedules, the first three episodes of The Wheel of Time’s third season have all dropped at once. Chances are, therefore, that you didn’t have to wait much longer than an hour and ten minutes in real time between starting the premiere and arriving at the deliciously nasty opening scene of episode two. The bad news is that you probably shouldn’t have had to wait even that long. I get that the battle with the Black Ajah in the heart of the White Tower is probably the necessary starting point for this segment of the WoT saga, but 15 minutes of characters whose names you only sort of remember shooting digital fingertip fire at each other can be a little off-putting as a welcome back. A brand-new evil-queen character, played by Olivia Williams, with a Robespierre-type Red Ajah Aes Sedai adviser, played by Shohreh Aghdashloo, executing a bunch of rival nobles even after they literally bend the knee? Brother, I’ll take all of that ya got.
I reviewed the second episode of The Wheel of Time Season 3 for Vulture.
‘The Wheel of Time’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 1: ‘To Race the Shadow’
There are two kinds of writers, according to Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon demiurge George R.R. Martin. Some, like Martin’s idol and inspiration, J.R.R. Tolkien, are architects, meticulously planning out their intricate worlds and the hundreds of characters and story lines that exist within them. Others, like Martin himself, are gardeners, planting seeds and knowing what they’ll eventually blossom into, but without any knowledge or control of what shape they’ll take along the way as they grow. The gardener’s job isn’t to draw and execute blueprints; it’s to prune and cultivate the blossoms into a pleasing shape.
I haven’t read The Wheel of Time, the 15-volume epic-fantasy saga by the late author (and close friend of Martin’s) Robert Jordan and, following Jordan’s death, his collaborator and chosen successor, Brandon Sanderson. A cursory search indicates Jordan, at least, was more of a gardener type — he labeled himself a “discovery” writer — and it stands to reason: A planned trilogy doesn’t wind up a dozen books longer than expected if you’ve got it all mapped out in an outline in a notebook or hard drive somewhere.
After watching the season-three premiere of The Wheel of Time — one of three episodes debuting this week — I’m not convinced that creator-showrunner Rafe Judkins and writer Justine Juel Gillmer are architects or gardeners. They’re more like Abstract Expressionist painters, dipping their brushes into big cans of epic-fantasy stuff and just splashing them all across the canvas. It may seem random or haphazard, and it’s definitely overwhelming to look at at first. But eventually, a picture emerges, one that clearly communicates the artist’s ideas and emotions. Even if it’s difficult to make them out now, hey, that sure is a lot of bright-colored paint they flung at the wall, isn’t it?
I reviewed the season premiere of The Wheel of Time for Vulture.
‘Daredevil: Born Again’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 3: ‘The Hollow of His Hand’
In this week’s episode of Daredevil: Born Again, Mayor Wilson Fisk, a man with multiple felony convictions recently elected to powerful office, says “The rule of law must prevail.” Meanwhile, (presumably) a crooked cop sporting the Punisher skull murders a politically inconvenient man (who’s Puerto Rican by the way) on Fisk’s orders. By this point in the episode cops have already tried to murder a witness (twice) and successfully frighten him out of testifying when that fails. And oh yeah, the interview is given to an influencer, not the New York Times, mentioned and rejected by name in the influencer’s favor.
In other words, if you were wondering whether the first two episodes were a fluke and the rest of the series wouldn’t scream IT’S ABOUT TRUMP AND MAGA at you at full volume, wonder no longer.
‘The White Lotus’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 4: ‘Hide or Seek’
I don’t want to give the impression that this isn’t a funny show, because it very much is. (Much funnier than the seasons that felt more like a comedy, imo.) Tim does a big comical take to the camera at one point that’s only slightly more subtle than the one Paul Rudd does in Wet Hot American Summer. Belinda and Greg have a slow-motion staredown that clearly has unpleasant implications for Belinda, but which still amounts to a couple of people at a luxury resort reenacting the Avon Barksdale/Lt. Daniels bit from The Wire. Parker Posey and her anesthetized accent are a scream. So is Aimee-Lou Wood, who along with Belinda is basically the only person you actually want to see have a good time at this place. There’s a zoom-in on the Ratliffs walking like the Reservoir Dogs for crying out loud.
But it’s been a while since I’ve watched a show this suffused with an all-encompassing, omnipresent sense that Something Bad is going on. It reminds me of Mad Men Season 5, an experiment in just how freaked out a show about rich people completely insulated from lasting consequences by money can make you feel on an episode-by-episode basis. And now the boat’s sailing off, and Rick’s on his way to Bangkok, and the trio are out partying, and the pink moon gonna get ye all.
I reviewed this weekend’s episode of The White Lotus for Decider.
‘Severance’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 8: ‘Sweet Vitriol’
Clocking in at exactly 36 minutes long, not counting the closing credits — there are no opening credits this week — Severance Season 2 Episode 8 (“Sweet Vitriol”) is essentially a three-hander that finally catches up with Ms. Cobel. Our girl Harmony has returned to her hometown of Salt’s Neck, an icy coastal village that appears ready to fall into the sea. Once a Lumon company town — it’s where Kier Eagan met his future wife in the ether factory — it’s now a no-company town: As Hampton (James Le Gros), Harmony’s estranged childhood boyfriend and a dedicated Lumon-hater, sarcastically parrots back to her, “With the market readjustment and fluctuating interest rates, there was a retrenchment from some of the core infrastructure investments.” In other words, fuck you, Salt’s Neck, Lumon has moved on and left you behind.
‘Yellowjackets’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 5: ‘Did Tai Do That?’
The problem is that Tai can’t go through with it, even while doing target practice by aiming at a frowny face on a tree. Van, who’s helping her practice, suggests they try to summon Tai’s dark side, which we haven’t seen anything of yet this season. First, they try summoning it with sexual energy: Van pins Tai against a tree face first and fingers her. (The sex scenes have gotten a lot more fucked up and hot this season for sure.)
When that fails, they kill a rabbit caught in one of the girls’ traps, since the sinister spirit of the wilderness seems to frequently call for blood. In keeping with the show’s storied tradition of extremely nasty up-close survival violence, Tai slits the poor rabbit’s throat in full view of the camera, which lingers as the animal’s legs and paws frantically flail at the air in pain and terror. With Van’s encouragement, Tai narrates the entire process of the rabbit’s death. “I see its fear. I feel its breath … I smell its blood. I feel its heartbeat slowing. It’s calmer now.” To really be present with the fear and pain you’re inflicting on another living thing — more importantly, to force the audience to be present with it — makes for harrowing television.
‘Daredevil: Born Again’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 2: ‘Optics’
No one who didn’t watch it ever believes me when I tell them, but the Netflix Punisher show felt like it was designed specifically to upset people with Blue Lives Matter American Flag Punisher decals on their F-350s. All of the main villains were either ex-military who’d gone capitalist or criminal to make money by killing people, corrupt cops, or right-wing politicians bought off by Russian oligarchs — a who’s who of the kind of people that people who are really into the Punisher logo love.
It’s always been odd that the Punisher TV show is harder on these people than the company that owns the character. Disney has never seriously objected to the co-option of one of their marquee superheroes’ symbol by fascists, even as they’re willing to block grieving parents with Spider-Man stuff on their child’s gravestone. For one reason or another — and I leave it to you, fair reader, to learn a bit about the historical relationship between capitalists, corporations, and fascists and decide that reason for yourself — the Mouse has been bizarrely gloves-off on the issue.
This is the reason why, when I saw that one of the corrupt and murderous cops being beaten up by an enraged you-left-me-no-choice Matt Murdock had a Punisher skull tattoo, my notes read simply “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING?!?
I reviewed the second episode of Daredevil: Born Again for Decider.
‘Daredevil: Born Again’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 1: ‘Heaven’s Half Hour’
“I know writers who use subtext, and they’re all cowards.” When Garth Marenghi — author, dreamweaver, visionary, plus actor — uttered these words, he spoke as a prophet. We live an era that has made the subtext text. This country re-elected a billionaire who’d previously, publicly tried to overthrow the government to once again run the government. He brought in an even richer billionaire, the scion of an evil foreign government (apartheid South Africa), to rule it for him; sometimes this second billionaire wields a chainsaw. They’re firing people for being women or Black or queer and not really pretending there’s another reason for it. They’re trying to legislate an entire minority group, trans people, out of existence. They’re handing over your Social Security and IRS data to neo-Nazi teenagers. The big billionaire gave a Nazi salute on stage, twice. These are all things that have happened or are happening now, in real life. Every conspiracist’s fever dream about America’s fall to sinister oligarchic forces has come to pass; most of those conspiracists just happened to vote for the oligarch(s) in question. No subtext required!
I say all this because, as a long-time writer about superheroes (comics, films, television), I used to think the “supervillain pretends to be nice and is allowed to take over the government” storylines were idiotic. “But Norman Osborn is the Green Goblin and everyone knows it,” I said about twenty years ago, during Marvel’s Dark Reign storyline. “I don’t care if he fired the killshot on the leader of a Skrull invasion and improved his public image — they wouldn’t just let him take over a major intelligence organization and turn it on his enemies. He’s a serial killer who dresses up in a Halloween costume and throws molotov cocktails at college students. He’s admitted it. If Charles Manson killed Osama bin Laden on live TV tomorrow, they still wouldn’t put him in charge of the CIA.”
Whoops!
I reviewed the season premiere of Daredevil: Born Again for Decider.
‘A Thousand Blows’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 6
It’s a pretty terrific closing salvo for A Thousand Blows’ first season. (Based on the teaser that follows the “To be continued…” title card, the second has already largely been shot.) It places the emphasis right where it’s been and belonged the whole time: on Erin Doherty’s work as Mary Carr, once (and future?) Queen of the Forty Elephants. Doherty has spent the entire season challenged to hold down her end of the screen against guys who literally trained to beat people up to play their roles. She has to answer their physical charisma with the kind that can only come out of your voice, your eyes, the set of your jaw. She clears the bar without so much as brushing it with the hem of her dress. It’s early yet, but this is one of my favorite performances of the year.
I reviewed the season finale of A Thousand Blows for Decider.
‘Paradise’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 8: ‘The Man Who Kept the Secrets’
I’m not gonna sit here and tell you Paradise is one for the ages, or even for year-end best-ofs. But it’s competent, its three leads (Sterling K. Brown, James Marsden, and Julianne Nicholson) are extremely talented people who make a feast of everything they’re given, it got really nasty and scary when it needed to, and it solved its main mystery by using a killer librarian, like a half-forgotten slasher film set at a high school in the early ’80s. Like its knowingly ridiculous needle drops, the combination is fun almost despite itself.
‘The White Lotus’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 3: ‘The Meaning of Dreams’
The thing to understand about this season, it seems, is that it’s no longer a satire. It’s a drama with satirical elements. It’s darker. It’s weirder. It’s more serious. It does dream sequences about tsunamis. It’s not Succession anymore, it’s Mad Men. It may not seem like it, but the gulf between the effects of those styles of writing and directing is cavernous. It’s not that there’s no longer room for humor — watching the stars of Fallout and The Zone of Interest compete to properly pronounce Sritala’s last name is funny, I don’t care who ya are — but it’s not the focus. The focus is deeper.
I get the impression that what is at the very least a vocal minority of White Lotus fans feel, therefore, that the show is slipping. I don’t know what people used to see in it that I didn’t, and I don’t know what I’m seeing in it now that people aren’t, but if you’d hid the title of the show, changed the name of the hotel, and simply screened these first three episodes for me, the only way I’d be able to tell it’s the same series from the same filmmaker is the presence of Greg and Belinda. Otherwise I simply would not have believed you. I mean, that opening scene alone is more interesting than anything that happened in the first two seasons by a comfortable margin. Emotionally, tonally, visually, aurally, it feels like a different show. Maybe that’s why people who were happy with what they’d been getting have soured on it a bit, but it sure is sweet to me. The episode closes with Victoria asking a pilled-out Tim “Is something going on?” The answer, in every sense, is yes.
‘A Thousand Blows’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 5
A Thousand Blows remains an enjoyable show thanks to the physically commanding performances of its three leads. Stephen Graham, Erin Foster, and Malachi Kirby swagger across the screen so vibrantly now that the de rigeur digital teal-and-apricot color palette that plagues TV these days obscures their emotions. Overall, however, things are looking so dire that it’s hard to figure out how any of our heroes or antiheroes turn it around. Maybe that’s fine, and it’s crime doesn’t pay narrative, or a story about how the masses can never beat the classes. But I think snatching victory from the jaws of defeat would do this show well. These people are all survivors, bottom line. I wouldn’t mind seeing them thrive, for a change.
I reviewed the fifth episode of A Thousand Blows for Decider.
‘Severance’ thoughts, Season 2, Episode 7: ‘Chikhai Bardo’
Maybe you want to give the lion’s share of the credit to Dichen Lachman, the strikingly telegenic actor who plays the severed and stranded Gemma Scout/Ms. Casey. Maybe you want to tip your cap to Adam Scott, who traces his character Mark Scout’s progression from happy college professor meeting cute with his future wife to widower finding out the terrible news for the first time. Maybe you appreciate the work of Sandra Bernhard as a scowling Lumon technician, or Robby Benson as Dr. Mauer, Gemma’s torturer and would-be lover during her multiplicitous, mysterious severed simulacra of life.
I submit to you, however, that the real star of “Chikhai Bardo,” an episode destined to go down as one of Severance fans’ favorite Severance episodes, is Jessica Lee Gagné. Believe it or not, but as best I can tell, this swirling, tumbling, brilliantly filmed and assembled episode marks the veteran cinematographer’s directorial debut. From the flips and fades and segues and other weird tricks that mark scene transitions to the high-stakes performance she coaxes out of the actors, it’s hard to imagine a more auspicious debut.
So why do I feel so frustrated?
‘Yellowjackets’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 4: ’12 Angry Girls and 1 Drunk Travis’
The episode-length sequence is a flop for a variety of reasons. For starters, key members of the cast don’t seem to know how to act after such a radical tonal shift, though a few rise to the challenge. Sophie Thatcher maintains Natalie’s uneasy balance of responsibility and fear easily enough, and Sammi Hanratty really demonstrates her range as a righteously indignant and legalistically canny Misty; it makes you excited to see what the actor will do when given actual adult roles, and it’s my favorite work of Hanratty’s in the series so far.
As Coach Ben, Stephen Krueger is similarly compelling. Fully believing the girls will convict (and likely kill and eat) him no matter what he says or does, he therefore has no reason to lie, and is bracingly honest both about what he dislikes about his job, which he has never seen as a career, and what he loves about the girls, even though they’re a threat to his life. Emoting all of this through a layer of grime and beard is an impressive feat in and of itself, and it shows how crucial Krueger is to the flashback material.
But Jasmin Savoy Brown as the faux-D.A. and Sophie Nélisse as the chief hang-‘im-high juror flounder are speechifying and smirking and acting more or less like people reading the script of a courtroom drama out loud. Liv Hewson as the bailiff fares little better with the corny shit she’s forced to say to open the trial, but as her part is relatively minor it’s nowhere near as grating as Tai and Shauna’s flared-nostril rage against their assistant coach, who quite obviously did not burn their cabin down. They’re straight-up trying to kill him, just as he’s accused of trying to do to them. Misty does such a bang-up job of unpacking this, in fact, that it makes the eventual guilty verdict feel not so much as unjust as merely stupid.
‘A Thousand Blows’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 4
Perhaps most importantly, at least if you’re an audience member, Hezekiah is growing closer than ever to Mary herself. On at least one occasion during this episode they come with in a finger’s breadth of kissing before Mary calls it off, openly saying she’s not quite sure if this is a relationship she wants or not. Cue that Dumb and Dumber “So you’re saying there’s a chance” gif, only for real this time. And well there should be: The chemistry between these two gives off a lot of steam, perhaps because Mary is the only person around whom Hezekiah really comes out of his shell and starts acting like a future world champion. If you find someone who brings that out of you, lock that shit down, my friends.