‘I, Claudius’ thoughts, Episode 9: ‘Zeus, by Jove!’

Fans of Game of Thrones and George R.R. Martin’s source novels A Song of Ice and Fire, no doubt, see plenty they recognize about Westeros and its inhabitants in Caligula and his macabre misadventures. Caligula has the pale blond hair of House Targaryen, a dynasty that, as Herod says of the Claudians, produces either great men or madmen. He’s in an incestuous, blasphemous relationship with his sister Drusilla (actually the other sisters too), another hallmark of the Targaryens and their native Valyrian culture. A blonde queen fucking her brother immediately puts one in mind of Cersei and Jaime Lannister, too. Caligula himself, of course, is the archetypal Mad King.

Anyone, however, can recognize the prodigious gifts of John Hurt, whose Caligula is one of TV’s greatest villains, on a show that’s given us one already in Livia. Indeed, it’s worth reflecting that with the deaths of Tiberius and Antonia, Herod and Claudius are the only characters left alive from fully the first five episodes. In many ways we’re watching a brand new show, and for now at least, it’s a one-man show at that.

I reviewed episode nine of I, Claudius for Pop Heist. Gift link!

‘Monster: The Ed Gein Story’ thoughts, Episode 1: ‘Mother!’

When a crime is so monstrous it defies imagination, imagination sometimes strikes back. To understand the calamity that has befallen the world, to process it in such a way that the mind can move forward, it can enlarge the problem, embellish it, twist it into even more lurid and fantastical forms. Thus the obscene horror of the Holocaust is transmuted into taboo sexuality in the form of Nazispolitation, BDSM-themed books, comics, and movies in which blonde-bombshell SS officers sexually torment their prisoners. And thus fully three of, conservatively, the 20 best horror films ever made — Psycho, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and The Silence of the Lambs — can be said to originate from the same single, sad, sordid source: Wisconsin farmer and necrophile Ed Gein.

Work as extreme as what Ryan Muphy and creator-writer Ian Brennan have been doing across the Monster series — its first installment tackled Jeffrey Dahmer, its second Lyle and Erik Menendez and their abusive parents — is rare on the small screen. Seeing it done this well is rarer still. Between the two Monster/s seasons and the American Crime Story seasons on O.J. Simpson and Andrew Cunanan, Murphy, whatever his other faults as a filmmaker and impresario, has brought us the four best true-crime dramas I’ve ever seen. Will Monster: The Ed Gein story give us more of the brutal, vital same? 

I’m covering the new season of Monster for Decider, starting with my review of the series premiere.

‘Alice in Borderland’ Season 3 Ending Explained

But beyond that, what’s the meaning of Alice in Borderland’s finale? Love. That’s always been the meaning of this show. While there are many dystopian life-and-death game shows and movies out there — from Squid Game to The Running Man to Battle Royale to The Hunger Games — they typically stand as commentary on a malevolent force at work in our own world: capitalism, fascism, conformity, the class system, culture-wide callousness towards suffering and death. 

Alice, by contrast, has never struck me as political in this way. The meaning of this show has long been that people should love one another and take care of one another, because it’s the right thing to do. Time and again, people who’ve only just met put their lives on the line, often sacrificing them, for each other. Arisu is granted his final “win” because he volunteered to stay behind so that others might live. 

Since we now know all of this is taking place on the border between life and death, the Borderland now really does feel like some kind of final testing ground for people’s character. Are you gonna go feral and launch a one-person war against everyone in your quest for victory? Or are you gonna create a real community and help it survive? Even the games are structured so that cooperation is key. The Borderland is a harsh judge, and an unfair one, but in its own weird way it’s enforcing the Golden Rule. The basic human dignity of the people around you is worth fighting for, even dying for.

Huh, maybe this show is political after all.

I wrote a servicey piece explaining the Alice in Borderland Season 3 finale for Decider, and as usual I get a little philosophical.

‘House of Guinness’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 8

What kind of man is Sir Arthur Guinness? That’s the question being put before the people of Dublin in this eighth and final installment of House of Guinness’ first season. (After that cliffhanger, it had better be only the first season.) Is he the great conciliator between Republican and Unionist, determined to save lives through his family’s charitable work regardless of denomination, or is he a Conservative wolf in sheep’s clothing? Is he the scandal-plagued politician who barely escaped jail after attempt to fix his last run for office, and around whom rumors no doubt swirl regarding his nocturnal activities? Is he the secret funder of Fenians at home and abroad? Is he a peddler of damnation in a bottle? Does he just make a really good beer?

But thanks to the work of actor Anthony Boyle, who is mesmerizing in the role, “What kind of man is Sir Arthur Guinness?” is one of the most interesting questions on television this year. 

I reviewed the season finale of House of Guinness for Decider.

‘Alice in Borderland’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 6

What am I gonna do, complain about that Tokyo Tower sequence, or about characters like Rei and Tetsu and Ryuji, or about A HUNDRED MILLION FLAMING ARROWS? I am not. Even if Alice S3 is the definition of an inessential sequel, “inessential” is not a synonym for “bad” or “not worth watching.” The bottom line is that I like these people a lot, and I like the way Shinsuke Sato puts them through the wringer. That’s enough.

I reviewed the Alice in Borderland finale for Decider.

‘House of Guinness’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 7

House of Guinness is a show on which Jack “King Joffrey” Gleeson makes his triumphant return to Ireland in a fur coat and bowler hat, riding triumphantly down the Liffey in a rowboat accompanied by a swan, while Kneecap plays. There, I’ve done my part. That sentence right there either sells you on this show, or it doesn’t. 

I reviewed the penultimate episode of House of Guinness for Decider.

‘The Lowdown’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 3: ‘Dinosaur Dreams’

That’s the other thing about the script: It’s really good at showing these people to be alright guys. From “The Beluga Brothers,” who just want to make a living, stick it to the man, and hopefully heal Marlon’s broken heart; to Ray, a shameless gossip with no off switch who nevertheless braved the disapproval of his Bible-thumping mother to come out as a teenager, which impresses Francis a great deal; to Francis herself, a kid doing her best with her unconventional parent, adjusting for adult foibles the way children are sadly so good at doing; to Marty, or Chubs as his old friends Donald and Betty Jo call him, a man who would clearly rather be doing anything with his time than Donald’s dirty work; to Lee himself, a mess but a mensch. That’s a combination I think a lot of us find aspirational.

I reviewed this week’s The Lowdown for Decider.

‘House of Guinness’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 6

House of Guinness is the damnedest show. There are times when the ultra-moderne needledrops, the surfeit of straightforwardly attractive young people in the cast, and the reliance on upstairs/downstairs across-the-tracks attraction for the soapy stuff makes it all feel a bit old-school CW Network. It’s like The Vampire Diaries if they all drank stout instead of blood. 

Then along will come a line of dialogue like this:

“Out there in the darkness beyond the baronial halls there is laughter all night long, and those birds always sing too soon.”

Or this:

“To see you love inappropriately…it’s like opening a window for fresh air!”

Or this:

“You can wear your Sunday suit, but there will be no hymns, no prayers.”

And suddenly you’re not watching Gossip Cailín, you’re watching Deadwood: Dublin. You’re watching Boardwalk Republic. You’re watching a period piece with something to say, and the skill to say it well.

I reviewed the sixth episode of House of Guinness for Decider.

‘Alice in Borderland’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 5

Alice in Borderland has always been about human relationships first and foremost. It doesn’t have any grand statement to make about capitalism, conformity, wealth inequality, fascism, or anything else you might expect a show in this genre to explore. It’s about coming up with cool, complicated murder games, then watching normal people fight like hell to save strangers they’ve come to care about during the course of the game, or get back to the people they’ve left behind. It’s about the human spirit under adversity — random-ass sci-fi adversity, but adversity nonetheless — and what becomes of that spirt under those circumstances.

I reviewed the fifth episode of Alice in Borderland for Decider.

Heil If You’re Horny!

Despite its often nonsensical plotting and first-draft dialogue, The Hunting Wives is surprisingly provocative with this understanding of MAGA in mind. In the hands of more adept filmmakers, a Trumpian fantasy of total freedom at the expense of others’ submission could be made both compelling and revolting. But now, at least, I think I get how the art filmmakers of the future will depict the libidinal appeal of American fascism: a high heel, jammed into a human mouth, forever. 

I wrote about The Hunting Wives, Erotic MAGA, and the literally libidinal appeal of fascism for Welcome to Hell World. Works cited: The Night Porter, Sàlo, Seven Beauties, Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence, “Nude Africa.”

‘House of Guinness’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 5

I look forward to a lot about this show. Some of its most satisfying moments, like Ellen’s hookup with Edward, feel so inevitable you can see them coming several episodes away. Others, like the very real question of whether or not Lady Christine was going to kill herself or Aunt Agnes, you don’t know how they’ll go until they’ve gone. (Having the gun go off accidentally was a really deft touch.)

And you just never know when someone’s going to drop everything and start profanely paraphrasing Shakespeare. “I could be bounded in a nutshell,” Arthur tells his father Sir Benjamin’s portrait, “and still count myself the king of infinite space, were it not that I had these bad fucking dreams, Father.” Friends, have you ever felt yourself on the cusp of happiness, only to have yourself held back by forces completely beyond your control? If so, Arthur Guinness is singing your song.

I reviewed the fifth episode of House of Guinness for Decider.

‘Task’ thoughts, Episode 4: ‘All Roads’

On a happier note, Grasso and Stover finally fall into bed…sorta. After drinking and dancing to Gwen Stefani’s “The Sweet Escape,” with Stover relentlessly hammering away at the far smoother Grasso’s anti-cringe reflexes, they go back to her place. But when Grasso realizes they’re about to have sex in her “marital bed,” he can’t go through with it. The good Catholic boy strikes again.

The use of found music is realistic and astute throughout the episode, actually. No one’s trying to impress anyone with cratedigging here; the idea is to show you the musical taste of a bunch of regular people. When Robbie and Billy take their families down to the swimming hole, in a flashback that’s positively glowing with the characters’ affection for one another, they listen to “Melissa” by the Allman Brothers. When Robbie wants to play suave and charming for his daughter on the even of a father/daughter dance he knows he’ll never make, he plays “More Than This” by Roxy Music. 

The throughline for all these songs is a sweet, smiling romanticism that the characters themselves have to fight tooth and nail to reach in their real lives. And when they do — boy, with this cast you’re really pulling for them, aren’t you? Robbie, Billy, Eryn, Grasso, Stover — they’re all charming and beautiful, and seeing them happy is infectious, however fleeting that happiness is.

I reviewed this week’s Task for Decider.

‘Alice in Borderland’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 4

I’m calling it right now: If you’re afraid of heights, and I sure am, this episode of Alice in Borderland is the scariest hour of television you’ll see all year. I’d say it’s scarier than the similarly heights-based games in this year’s Squid Game, for the simple reason that none of us have ever seen a colossal game arena in real life. All of us, however, have seen towers and bridges and under-construction skyscrapers that are nothing but a pile of bolted-together metal for hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air. Hell, if you’ve ever looked up at the catwalks in a basketball arena and freaked out a little bit, you know what I mean. 

Anytime I even think of this stuff I get the shivers and shakes. Making me watch this nightmarish episode, in which half of our heroes are forced to climb Tokyo Tower by hand? Let me see what I wrote in my notes: “THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE FUCKING NIGHTMARE FOR ME” — boldface and all caps in the original — followed by “oh i hate it, oh i hate it so much lol.”

The “lol” is the give away. I hated it so much! I loved it!

I reviewed episode four of Alice in Borderland for Decider.

‘House of Guinness’ thoughts, Season 1, Episode 4

Let’s hear it for Jack Gleeson. The Irish actor cemented his place in television history in his first major role: the smug, sadistic, sociopathic, cowardly, completely insufferable boy king Joffrey Baratheon on Game of Thrones. He returned to his studies after that, acting only sporadically until very recently. 

God, am I glad to see him back. His character here, the archetypal Irish trickster Byron Hedges, makes use of many of the same traits that made Gleeson’s portrayal of Joffrey so menacing — the twinkle of glee in his eye, the tight-lipped smile of someone harboring a secret — but harnesses them for good instead of evil. Well, if not good, then at least Guinness.

I reviewed the fourth episode of House of Guinness for Decider.

‘I, Claudius’ thoughts, Episode 8: ‘Reign of Terror’

There’s something quite humbling about having your nation’s number well and truly gotten by a television show aired in Britain in 1976, based on novels published in 1934 and 1935. But humbling isn’t the right word at all. Humiliating is closer to the mark. Two thousand years after the events of I, Claudius, the United States of America — the richest and most powerful empire in the history of the world — is crumbling before our eyes due to the every combination of greed, ambition, sadism, and degeneracy that brought mighty Rome low centuries ago. We, as a species, have learned nothing.

But that’s not quite fair, is it? You’ve learned something. I’ve learned something. People who have kept their minds and souls intact amidst the fascist onslaught, people who have remained human as the entire warship of the state and technology and capital aims its cannons at anything remotely human and fires — people like that, people like us, we’ve learned our lesson. We know that gerontocratic perverts like Emperor Tiberius, gibbering young psychopaths like Caligula, and scumbag secret police chiefs like Sejanus have been put in charge of our country, our future, our world — our children’s country, our children’s future, our children’s world. I think what we’d like to happen to these people in return is clear enough.

I, Claudius isn’t about everyday people like us, though.True, everyday people come into the story every now and then — in this very episode there’s a lengthy, hilarious aside in which a scribe passive-aggressively instructs his employees to erase the beautiful elephants they’ve drawn on Claudius’ manuscript about Carthage, seething about his rich client’s bad taste all the while. Even Sejanus is, in his way, closer to the masses than the Julio-Claudians, into whose ranks he’s been scheming to climb for years.  But like George R.R. Martin (more on him in a moment) writing A Song of Ice and Fire, author Robert Graves and adapter Jack Pulman made a conscious choice to center royalty and aristocracy in their narrative. 

But it’s the powerful who move the plot here. And look where they’ve moved it to. Justly titled “Reign of Terror,” this episode of I, Claudius is a cavalcade of cruelty — and I defy you to find a single reason why it couldn’t happen here tomorrow.

I reviewed the eighth episode of I, Claudius for Pop Heist. Gift link!

‘House of Guinness’ thoughts, Episode 3

I can’t say that House of Guinness is firing on all cylinders. Ellen, for example, feels altogether too broad a caricature of a fiery Fenian redhead, down to chugging a pint o’  Guinness with her flaming tresses curling hither thither and yon. I could do with Rafferty getting a little more seasoning than “sexy swaggering tough-guy company man, too; his scene with Ellen suffers as a result of neither quite feeling like people the way Arthur or Anne or even the type-A Edward do.

I think it’s Arthur’s show, frankly. It’s like the man’s callowness — “What the fuck do I care about the people for? I’m a Conservative!” he says at one point, indignant — is in a constant tug of war with actor Anthony Boyle’s soulfulness, with neither side emerging the victor in full. (Also, you see his penis.) That said, Jack Gleeson stole every scene he was in as Joffrey, and he’s already a blast as Byron, so there are other contenders for the crown. Or the harp.

I reviewed the third episode of House of Guinness for Decider.

‘Alice in Borderland’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 3

This remains such a fun, inventive show. It’s capable of recognizing when it needs to course-correct, following up the complex zombie card game with a very basic round “dodge the flying killer frisbees.” The nerve gas on the Tokyo subway, meanwhile, is a still-provocative image that calls to mind the lethal terrorist attacks by a religious cult years ago. The canaries are a great visual, too. 

And Ryuji emerges now as a compelling antagonist — the kind of explorer in the further regions of experience obsessed with going beyond the limits that drove the narrative of the first two Hellraiser films. This is an archetype I like a lot, and as with so much else in this show, I like it here plenty. 

I reviewed the third episode of Alice in Borderland‘s third season for Decider.

‘Alice in Borderland’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 2

I dreaded watching this episode of Alice in Borderland. Not because I’m squeamish, or sensitive, or artistically or philosophically opposed to random acts of gratuitous violence. It’s just that I like my gratuitous violence to mean something, man. If I’m going to watch characters get senselessly mowed down in agonizing terror for an hour at a stretch, I want to know they did so in order for the filmmakers to make a statement about the wielding of power against the powerless, however personal or political you want to make it. I want to know those characters died for a purpose.

That’s never been Alice’s strong suit. This isn’t Squid Game, with its candy-colored Verhoevenesque anti-capitalism. This is just a bunch of cool violent shit happening to nice people who deserve better and try and help each other. I feel for the characters of course, but their plight seems very arbitrary and narrow. I don’t foresee circumstances in which getting sucked into a warp-zone afterlife where you get shot by lasers reveals much about the human experience, you know?

But here’s the thing: The moment you shoot a flaming arrow through some rando redshirt’s neck, all my objections go up in smoke. So to speak.

I reviewed the second episode of Alice in Borderland‘s third season for Decider.

‘House of Guinness’ thoughts, Episode 2

It’s the damnedest thing. I’m sitting here watching the second episode of House of Guinness and thinking “Huh, this seems much stronger to me than the first episode, somehow. Less showy and blunt, more thoughtful, better dialogue, better lighting, an altogether tighter thing.” Great news, right? But then I thought, “Wait, why does this seem familiar?” It’s because the exact same thing happened with writer-creator Steven Knight’s last period piece about 19th-century dirty deeds among people with pretty accents, A Thousand Blows

Back then, I wrote that “Series premieres, even of very good shows, often suffer from what I call ‘pilot-itis.’ It’s a tendency to go a bit big and braod in hopes of catching and capturing the audience’s attention.” That’s especially true of the House of Guinness debut, which introduced the players and their personalities and motivations with all the subtlety of a kid plopping her favorite action figures down on the floor before playing with them. 

It’s the playing that seems to interest Knight more than the setting-up. All of a sudden he’s having Aunt Agnes lament to her headstrong niece, who neither wants to play matchmaker for her brothers nor be married herself, “Oh, Anne, you’re a wave crashing against a rock, made up of gold bands and diamond engagement rings.” You’ve got Arthur, who earlier that day was dumped by his boyfriend Michael (Foundation‘s Cassian Bilton) in a botanical garden, cryptically telling his brother and their body man Rafferty “My peace was shattered today, beside a water lily.” 

In the first episode, only Ben the junkie and Rafferty the rake were permitted this kind of lyricism, and coming from them it seemed more like a character defect than anything else. Once everyone gets in on the act, you start achieving some of that Deadwood magic, where characters of low character speak in high poetry.

I reviewed the second episode of House of Guinness for Decider.

‘Alice in Borderland’ thoughts, Season 3, Episode 1

Adapted by writer-director Shinsuke Sato from the manga of the same name by Haro Aso, Alice in Borderland is one of the most complex, complicated, convoluted TV shows I’ve ever covered. The obvious point of comparison is Squid Game, but with more players, way more games, and way more uncertainty as to what the hell is even going on. 

This premiere clears a lot of that uncertainty right up. Obviously it’s possible the show is just straight-up lying to us, but it certainly appears as if Arisu’s adventure’s in Borderland took place during a near-death experience that plunged many people into a sort of shared consciousness where the games took place in classic “if you die in the dream, you die in real life” fashion. 

Now, this obviously still leaves a lot of questions unanswered. If this is just some dream world, why do all the games involve guns, booby traps, and other relatively realistic means of killing people? Why are they themed around a deck of playing cards? Is it connected in a direct way to the meterorite, in the sense that its origin is extraterrestrial? How is Banda able to pass to and fro? Has this happened before, and if so where and when and how often?

But still, given the show’s adamant refusal to answer a damn thing for nigh on two seasons, this return felt like finding the answer key to a chemistry exam. What’s more, there’s no new normal to familiarize yourself with that takes more than two seconds to get accustomed to: “Oh wow, Arisu and Usagi are married now? Cool, good for them.” And other than Ryuji, there aren’t any new characters to familiarize yourself with, not yet anyway. This may be the easiest Season 3 premiere I’ve ever had to review, from a “recapping the action” perspective.

To me, however, the standout moment isn’t any of the explanations receive. It’s not even the disgusting electrocution sequence, as fun as that is if you’re a gorehound. It’s Arisu’s long twilit walk from the sanitarium to the game zone through the cobalt-blue streets of empty Tokyo. It’s then that it truly feels we’re on the border of some new and terrible thing. At least, so I hope.

I reviewed the season premiere of Alice in Borderland for Decider. I’m covering this whole season in the next few days as well!