“The Underground Railroad” thoughts, Episode Eight: “Chapter 8: Indiana Autumn”

What follows her trip to the Ghost Tunnel is, essentially, a dream version of the same excursion. In Cora’s dream, she descends the Tunnel’s long rope ladder and winds up in a truly palatial Underground Railroad station packed with Black travelers of all kinds. But the ticket agent says she can’t move Cora along until her testimony checks out, a potential problem since she hasn’t offered testimony in Indiana. “Did you really tell your truth?” the agent asks; Cora has nothing to say in response.

The tension mounts courtesy of some incredible sound design, which makes this mysterious mega-station—whether it is above or below ground “depends on where you’re coming from,” says a conductor—sound like it’s constantly inhaling and exhaling, with a crying baby thrown in for good measure. Cora exits and finds herself in the run-down house in the forest where the hatch is from; she reenters and everyone is staring at her as she walks her way to a reunion with her lost friend Caesar. They dance together, quoting their own romantic banter from several episodes earlier. They cry. This is not the surreal logic of a Mad Men or Sopranos fever dream; it’s a straightforward longing for something that can no longer be had.

I reviewed the eighth episode of The Underground Railroad for Decider.

“The Underground Railroad” thoughts, Episode Seven: “Chapter 7: Fanny Briggs”

Well, that was a relief.

Clocking in at just over 16 minutes, not counting the closing credits—that’s slightly longer than an installment of, like, Teen Titans Go! or Tim & Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!The Underground Railroad Episode 7 rockets right by, taking us from tragedy to triumph in record time. Titled “Chapter 7: Fanny Briggs” after its main character, whom we’ve already met under another name, it’s a rare moment of elation in this relentlessly, appropriately grim series.

I reviewed the seventh, short, structurally bold episode of The Underground Railroad for Decider. More shows should do stuff like this.

“The Underground Railroad” thoughts, Episode Six: “Chapter 6: Tennessee: Proverbs”

From the moment Arnold Ridgeway takes out a flask and begins drinking whiskey from it, you know he’s in strange territory. Not literally, not at all—he’s returned to his family home for one last attempt at rapprochement with his dying father, “rapprochement” in this case meaning “my dad owes me an apology.” The strangeness is all in his demeanor, which takes a sudden turn for the fearful, the petulant, the anxious and uncertain—a far cry from his nearly supernatural implacability up until that point. “So Arnold Ridgeway is human after all,” Cora says after finding out the nature of their visit. He’s not a good human, but yes, something like that.

This episode of The Underground Railroad (“Chapter Six: Tennessee: Proverbs”) is essentially one drawn-out drunk for Ridgeway, who is absolutely hammered by the time he witnesses his father breathe his last breath. In one particularly galling scene, he drags Cora to a nearby saloon—in chains—for a meal and a drink, though in his case “a drink” means “an entire bottle.” He waxes philosophical and patriotic about Manifest Destiny and the American spirit—”The only ‘Spirit’ worth its salt,” he says, compared to the Great Spirit that his father borrowed from indigenous religious beliefs. The American spirit, he says, is a call to the people of the Old World to come to the New civilize the land, and either “lift up, subjugate, [or] exterminate, eliminate” the other peoples they encounter. “The American Imperative,” he calls this last bit. Even a broken clock tells the right time twice a day.

I reviewed the sixth episode of The Underground Railroad for Decider.

“The Underground Railroad” thoughts, Episode 5: “Chapter 5: Tennessee: Exodus”

Throughout it all, Barry Jenkins’s camera makes slow pilgrimages from one end of a given scene to the next, like it too has been enlisted in Ridgeway’s grim procession. The ruined vistas it captures are stunning in their own bleak way. The camera also captures some characters looking directly at us, like Cora when she speaks aloud to her absent mother and Lovey and Caesar, or Ridgeway Senior when he glares at (presumably) his detestable son in the vision Cora conjures of their eventual pointless reunion. It is hard to meet their gaze.

I reviewed episode 5 of The Underground Railroad for Decider.

“Mare of Easttown” thoughts, Season One, Episode Five: “Illusions”

As I said last week, tonal shifts of the sort Mare is attempting require a strong, almost singular creative mind behind them. I’ve seen no evidence thus far that either creator and writer Brad Ingelsby or director Craig Zobel have what it takes to pull it off. Rather, the show comes off as determined to cut its serious material off at the knees with cheap twists and bad comedy, while the lighter material plays on as if oblivious to the steadily mounting pile of abused and murdered bodies.

I reviewed this week’s episode of Mare of Easttown for Decider.

“Mare of Easttown” thoughts, Season One, Episode Four: “Poor Sisyphus”

And so, without a stable ethical foundation to stand on, the whole thing teeters and wobbles on the verge of collapse. There’s just no way to have, say, the slapstick teen sex comedy of Siobhan’s situation and Helen’s whack on the noggin on the one hand and the Silence of the Lambs–style abduction of women on the other and make them both work without that foundation. You can’t portray, for example, Mare’s continued presence in the investigation from which she’s been barred like it’s simple dogged detective work when she’s also keeping huge secrets from her own partner (who, I remind you, has also asked her out). For god’s sake, you can’t have Mare balancing multiple suitors and make it cute while she’s been suspended from the force for a fucking felony that’s getting swept under the rug!

I reviewed the baffling fourth episode of Mare of Easttown for Decider.

“The Underground Railroad” thoughts, Episode Three: “Chapter 3: North Carolina”

In reviewing the premiere of The Underground Railroad, the word “dystopia” came up as a description of the slave state of Georgia—an attempt to apply this powerful fictional designation to the very real nightmare regime of American slavery. In reviewing the second, the word’s opposite, “utopia,” was used to in describe the illusory nature of South Carolina’s genteel “betterment” policies for its Black residents, all of whom still live and thrive only at the pleasure of their patronizing white overlords.

What I didn’t count on is for The Underground Railroad to traffic in out-and-out, alternate-history dystopianism. That’s what Cora finds when the Railroad runs into a roadblock, stranding her in North Carolina. There’s no betterment here. There’s not even slavery. There’s genocide.

I reviewed episode three of The Underground Railroad for Decider.

“The Underground Railroad” thoughts, Episode Two: “Chapter 2: South Carolina”

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: When Sir Thomas More coined the term utopia, he did so as a pun. Spelled eutopia, from the Ancient Greek, it means “good place,” which is how the term functions in fantastical literature—utopia as ideal society. But spelled utopia, which is the version More emphasized, it translates rather to “no place.” By definition, then, the ideal society cannot exist.

Griffin, South Carolina seems like a utopia in the eu sense, at least at a glance. By the time The Underground Railroad arrives there for its second episode (“Chapter 2: South Carolina”), our heroes Cora and Caesar have been safely ensconced there for some time. In this semi-integrated town, dominated by its futuristic “skyscraper,” Black people are not enslaved, but free—again, at least at a glance.

I reviewed the second episode of The Underground Railroad for Decider.

“The Underground Railroad” thoughts, Episode One: “Chapter 1: Georgia”

Of course, that kind of underground railroad is a fantasy, and that’s the simple genius of novelist Colson Whitehead’s original idea. Why not take the reality and make it a fantasy? Why not concretize the journey of slaves to freedom by creating a locomotive that literally operates underground? Genre stories use fantastical and spectacular ideas and images to communicate powerful ideas and emotions in a visual vocabulary that matches their power. The idea of an actual steam-powered underground railroad—well, it puts the status-quo-smashing “punk” back into “steampunk.”

And by taking on directorial duties for all ten episodes, Jenkins—who also wrote the episode—instantly joins a select company of Academy Award–winning filmmakers helming entire seasons of television, right alongside David Lynch and Steven Soderbergh. If this episode (“Chapter 1: Georgia”) is any indication, Jenkins, like his predecessors, will be making no qualitative distinction between the two cinematic mediums. His camera is calm, cool, and collected, allowing the inhumane drama of the plantation to play out in unsparing long takes. It’s a stylistic choice that makes sense, since so much of that drama is a matter of people being made to bear witness to atrocity. The camera won’t let us look away, either. And when the viewpoint does shift, most memorably letting us—or forcing us to—look through the eyes of the lynched slave as he burns to death, the impact is all the stronger. The surreal, staccato editing of the episode’s opening moments also stand out by comparison.

I’ll be covering Barry Jenkins’s strong new series The Underground Railroad for Decider, starting with my review of the series premiere.

“Clarice” thoughts, Season One, Episode Nine: “Silence Is Purgatory”

Which brings us back to The Silence of the Lambs, the still-controversial masterpiece from which Clarice springs, and the legacy of transphobia that emerged in its wake. People understandably focus on the scene in which the serial killer Buffalo Bill puts on his makeup and tucks in front of the mirror — but that’s not the real Bill, just a self-aggrandizing fantasy. No, the real Bill comes out when he’s taunting Catherine Martin by mocking her screams in the bottom of that well, pulling at his shirt to mimic having breasts in a cruel pantomime of womanhood, one meant to insult and injure. (I mean, in that tucking scene, he is wearing a dead woman’s scalp as a wig.) As both Hannibal Lecter and Clarice herself say in The Silence of the Lambs, Bill isn’t trans. He’s just a dime-a-dozen misogynist, killing women because he hates and resents them, not because he is one himself.

But within the world of Clarice, the discourse around Bill’s crimes is no more nuanced than the one around The Silence of the Lambs was when it came out 30 years ago. Transphobic shitheads are always going to use Bill as a cudgel; given that Clarice is built around Bill much more so than around even Hannibal the Cannibal, it behooves the show to address this head-on. Giving voice to these concerns, hiring a trans actress to play a trans woman in order to articulate them, making the point that the silences (pun almost certainly intended) around Bill and his place in popular culture are as damaging in their own way as an affirmative assertion of his illusory trans-ness would have been — these are worthwhile moves to have made.

I reviewed last night’s episode of Clarice for Vulture.

“Clarice” thoughts, Season One, Episode Eight: “Add-a-Bead”

This week’s episode of Clarice finds the show at its most Hannibal-esque, and I mean that in both senses of the word. First, you have some of the show’s most boldly aestheticized shots: a roast duck filmed in disorienting, slow-moving close-ups designed to make it look like something out of The Texas Chain-Saw Massacre, the appearance of Clarice Starling’s memories in a glass orb on her therapist’s end table, a slow-motion suicide off a bridge that ends with a scream and an artful blood splatter on the frozen river below. I don’t think Alex Kurtzman and Jenny Lumet’s show is going to be mistaken for Bryan Fuller’s anytime soon, but it’s willing to borrow a few tricks from Hannibal’s bag now and then.One Great StoryThe one story you shouldn’t miss, selected by New York editors

In this episode, Clarice also proves willing to invoke the H-man himself — not by name, since that’s contractually verboten, but at least by reputation. “I am not worried about him,” Clarice tells her therapist when the woman mentions the famous serial killer who had previously taken an interest in the workings of Starling’s mind. When the therapist presses, Clarice insists, “He is not coming after me. For him, hunting me wouldn’t bring relief. It would only articulate his own unspoken self-loathing.” I’m still holding out hope that Clarice gets a season-ending phone call from her old friend — hey, this is Hollywood, miracles happen — but this’ll do for now.

I reviewed last night’s episode of Clarice for Vulture.

Dark Side of the Ring Exposes Wrestling’s Seedy, Sensational Secrets

Is it real or is it fake? Is it a sport or is it an art form? Is the story what goes on inside the ring or what happens behind the scenes? These questions animate any serious discussion of professional wrestling; the key to understanding this American pastime is that the answer is yes, on all counts.

No series has understood this better than Dark Side of the Ring. Billed as the most-watched show in the history of Vice TVDark Side digs into the history of professional wrestling for its most controversial and criminal moments, which it portrays with genuine style and considerable compassion. Returning for its third season on May 6, it’s a must for true-crime junkies and wrestling aficionados alike. You don’t need to be a pro-wrestling scholar to find it a gripping, moving watch.

I wrote about Dark Side of the Ring for Vulture in anticipation of last night’s season premiere. I put a lot into this one and I hope you enjoy it.

“Mare of Easttown” thoughts, Season One, Episode Three: “Enter Number Two”

Here’s the thing about that: Mare of Easttown clearly expects us to take its title character’s side. Yes, even when she’s raiding the department’s evidence locker for packets of heroin she can plant in an ex-junkie’s vehicle in order to ruin said ex-junkie’s life. This isn’t portrayed as a heinous act of corruption and authoritarianism, but as the rash but understandable act of a grandmother acting in her grandson’s best interest. For me? It just left me wondering how many real-world cases of police misconduct get justified by the participants and swept under the rug by their superiors in the way that Mare and the Chief do here. It’s darkly fascinating to see to whom Mare of Easttown is willing to extend the benefit of the doubt, you know?

I reviewed Sunday’s episode of Mare of Easttown for Decider.

Introducing Cut to Black

I’m please to announce the debut of Cut to Black, a new podcast about how we experience television from me and Gretchen-Felker Martin. Our first episode is on our favorite line of dialogue ever, from Boardwalk Empire‘s Richard Harrow. You can currently find us on Spotify and Anchor; more platforms should be forthcoming shortly, so thank you for your patience. Happy listening!

“Mare of Easttown” thoughts, Season One, Episode Two: “Fathers”

The titular Mare of Easttown does not have an easy life. Maybe that’s a given, when you consider that she’s seemingly the sole detective in a town with at least one outstanding missing-persons case and a fresh murder of a teenage girl on its docket. But there’s more to it than that. In “Fathers,” Episode 2 of HBO’s murder-mystery Mare of Easttown, we learn that her son Kevin killed himself. We learn that her grandson Drew has begun to display some of the same tics that Kevin did as a child, prior to his downward spiral. We learn that Carrie (Zosia Bacon), Drew’s mother, is filing for full custody despite living in a sober house after an unspecified drug or alcohol addiction. And everywhere Mare turns, she’s forced to confront old friends and acquaintances with whom she’s now at life-and-death odds, whether that’s the mother of the girl she’s failed to find, the father of the girl whose corpse she’s just examined, or the parents of the girl who beat the dead girl up on camera the night of her murder. If I were her, I’d pound Rolling Rocks like they were bottles of Gatorade the very second I got off duty, too.

I reviewed last night’s episode of Mare of Easttown for Decider.

The Boiled Leather Audio Hour #130!

It’s me and Stefan Sasse on the future of the Westeros Cinematic Universe—multiple spinoffs and prequels, an animated series, and even a stage play—in the latest episode of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour, available here or wherever you get your podcasts!

“The Falcon and the Winter Soldier” thoughts, Season One, Episode Six: “One World, One People”

It’s an arresting visual, I’ll give it that. A man in a red, white, and blue angel costume descending from the heavens, cradling the dead body of a slain radical in his arms. If it took five-plus hours to get us to that one image, it was probably worth it to Marvel for the gifs and fan art alone.

The episode that surrounds the shots of the angelic new Captain America sprinkled throughout the Season 1 finale of The Falcon And The Winter Soldier, though? Good God, what a mess. Written by series creator Malcolm Spellman and Josef Sawyer, “One World, One People” is a shockingly incoherent product for an experienced purveyor of unobjectionable and slick genre fare like Marvel, right down to borrowing its idealistic-sounding title from the very radical group its heroes spend the episode defeating and killing.

I reviewed the finale of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier for Decider.

“Mare of Easttown” thoughts, Season One, Episode One: “Miss Lady Hawk Herself”

I see what Mare of Easttown is going for; with creator Brad Ingelsby’s workmanlike script, it’s impossible not to. Teenage mothers, dead-end jobs, opiate addicts, cancer patients, necessary but unaffordable medical procedures, chronic illness, the constant flow of cheap booze, old high-school glories substituting for any new real-world ones: This, the show argues, and not without reason, is small-town America in the year of our Lord 2021, or at least it would be if we weren’t still in the grips of the pandemic that shuttered the show’s production for a time. For what it’s worth, I don’t detect a ton of condescension in the portrayal. Ingelsby is a native of the area, and although the gap between Hollywood screenwriter and, say, exurban teenage mother is a big one, he does his best to paint everyone in a sympathetic, even noble, light.

Is it possible this is its own form of condescension? Yeah, I suppose it is. There’s something a little Barton Fink-y, a little “theater of and about and for The Common Man,” in Mare‘s portrayal of Easttown and its denizens. You can get as granular and gritty as you want with the talk of deductibles and diapers, but in the end, you’re still air-dropping one of the most famous movie stars in the world into this thing, and having her play a cop to boot. The very idea of a downtrodden but fundamentally good-hearted police officer, at this point in time…I mean, if you find it hard to swallow, I find it hard to blame you.

I’ll be covering Mare of Easttown for Decider, starting with my review of the series premiere.

“The Falcon and the Winter Soldier” thoughts, Season One, Episode Five: “Truth”

There’s one episode left in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, and given the way Sam was eyeing the contents of the high-tech Wakandan briefcase Bucky delivered to him, it seems safe to assume the Falcon—whose wings got torn off by Walker, if you’re in the symbolism market—is about to don the stars and stripes himself. I’d guess some sort of reckoning with Sharon is in the offing, as well as a battle with Karli and the Flag-Smashers that will paint them as well-intentioned but dangerously misguided and militant the way the whole rest of the season has done. Walker, by the way, is still walking around free, lying to the parents of his slain friend Lamar that he’s already killed their son’s killer. He’s got a grudge against Karli and a potential backer in the Contessa, and if we know anything about this show, it’s that people can show up anywhere at a moment’s notice, so I wouldn’t count him out of the final battle just yet either.

All told, it’s a whole lot of work just to get Sam to the place where the movies left him. I get that the show is supposed to be a meditation on the idea of Captain America in light of the fictional peril of criminal superhumans (whether in the form of Karli or the pre-cure Winter Soldier) on the one hand and the real-life issue of anti-Black racism on the other. But a show like this was always going to answer these questions simply by pointing at the heroes and declaring theirs the correct path. The game isn’t worth the candle. Oh hey, look over there, it’s Elaine from Seinfeld!

I reviewed today’s episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier for Decider.