Industry is not an easy show to cover. Oh, it’s an absolute pleasure to watch — gorgeous to look at, a cast bristling with talent, gripping financial-thriller storylines, and the proverbial Strong Sexual Content we all know love. And it’s equally pleasurable to think about, to discuss, to pull apart and piece back together. You could unpack Eric’s feelings about Harper, or Yasmin’s sexual personae, or the show’s whole bitter commentary on capitalism with someone over drinks for an hour. (I don’t even wanna think about how long you could go with cocaine.)
But it isn’t easy to write about, for the simple reason that, well, it’s too good. There’s so much stuff going on, and so much of that stuff is so rich and attention-demanding, that it’s hard to know where to begin. Often I’ll hit this point with shows I really like fairly deep into a season or a run, reaching a point where all I can do is rattle off a list of superlatives. I’m now on my second review of Industry ever, and I feel as though I’ve hit that point already. Where do we go from here? I swear I’m going to limit this kind of meta self-referential nonsense in future reviews of Industry as much as I can, but after this episode? Come on.
“Industry” thoughts, Season Three, Episode Two: “Smoke and Mirrors”
“Lady in the Lake” thoughts, Episode Six: “I know who killed Cleo Johnson.”
And now, ladies and gentlemen, comes the part where reviewing dozens and dozens of television shows for the past decade-plus comes in handy. During that entire time — during an entire lifetime of watching television, in fact — I have never once encountered a dream sequence that ends at the end of an episode, only for it to be revealed in the follow-up that this was a lie and the dream never ended at all. Never, not once. The only time I can remember a dream sequence even continuing from one episode to the next is the Kevin Finnerty episodes of The Sopranos, and no one popped up at the end of the first to tell Tony/Kevin that he wasn’t dreaming.
Natalie Portman’s Steamy ‘Lady in the Lake’ Mirror Sex Scene Takes Us Through the Looking Glass
Filmmakers love putting Natalie Portman’s face in the mirror. It’s easy to understand — if I were a director who had access to a face like Natalie Portman’s, I’d put it everywhere I could. But like Perseus defeating Medusa by her reflection in his shield, there are some faces simply too powerful to gaze at directly for too long. Studying such a striking person from that reflective remove can be more revealing than looking at them directly.
It certainly is in Episode 3 of Lady in the Lake. Adapted from the novel by Laura Lipmman, Alma Har’el’s Apple TV+ series stages this sex scene involving Portman’s character, fed-up ex-housewife turned cub reporter Maddie Morgenstern Schwartz, and her lover, Baltimore police officer Ferdie Platt (Y’lan Noel), in front of a mirror. And there’s a lot to see.
A few weeks ago, Lady in the Lake had a scene where Natalie Portman has sex in front of a mirror. This got me to thinking about Natalie Portman, sex, mirrors, and the relationship between all three across her career. I wrote about it for Decider.
“Industry” thoughts, Season Three, Episode One: “Il Mattino ha L’Oro in Bocca
The Sopranos, but more bitingly cynical. Euphoria, but with more and better sex and drugs. Mr. Robot, but there’s no hackers. Mad Men, but you flash forward six decades to discover basically nothing has changed. Succession, but with characters who sound like humans instead of lab rats in some kind of inventive-swearing experiment. Industry, Mickey Down and Konrad Kay’s remarkable workplace drama set in the atavistic world of London finance, feels like many shows at once; somehow, the whole is more than the sum of its parts.
I am so thrilled to be covering Industry for Decider this season, starting with my review of the season premiere. It’s a show I slept on for way too long. It’s not too late!
“Lady in the Lake” thoughts, Episode Five: “Every time someone turns up dead in that lake, it does seem to lead to you.”
When Maddie talks to Shell Gordon and Reggie Robinson…okay, I’m gonna break format here and just say when this happened I practically cheered. Here we have Academy Award winner Natalie Portman sitting across from Wood Harris, The Wire’s Avon Barksdale, commanding the screen just as effortlessly. That show’s deep bench of talent is just extraordinary.
Anyway, when Maddie talks to Shell, he chooses and delivers his words with the kind of skill and care an unpracticed speaker and interviewer like Maddie can’t match. When she tries to be coy about his racket, he makes her come out and say it. He’s the person who finally makes the racial subtext of their conversation text, praising Jewish people like her for surviving a genocide and overcoming racism, but ultimately letting her know that for all intents and purposes, she’s as white as anyone else to a Black person like himself. It’s like watching a serious version of Zorro making a few quick swordstrokes and his opponent (or lady friend)’s clothes all falling off at once, effortlessly torn to shreds.
Shell isn’t the only other person in the room, though. There’s also Reggie, who for all his gravelly soft-spokenness may as well be an open book. He lets slip that he’s a boxer — you know, the kind of hobby that leaves you with a black eye — and reveals that he and Shell collect tropical fish — you know, the kind that a Black guy with a black eye might have been seen buying at certain store the day a certain girl goes missing. The cherry on top is that, seemingly just for the fun of it, Shell reveals that Reggie was an item with Dora Carter, Cleo’s best friend. (Even now, when it’s in his best interest to do so, Reggie can’t hide his feelings: When Maddie asks if they were in love, he replies with a surprisinagly humble and tender “I’d like to think so.”)
I had a grand time reviewing this week’s excellent episode of Lady in the Lake for Vulture.
In Season 2, was House of the Dragon finally about the dragons?
Rad: FYI, I didn’t actually watch [Game of Thrones]. I came into House of the Dragon Season 2 kind of cold. With that in mind, Sean, what did you make of the big finale?
Sean: Well, call me old fashioned, but I’m the kind of person who thinks that when a season of a television show builds to a big, epic battle, it should show the big, epic battle. And so for the second time this year — first with Shōgun, and now with House of the Dragon — I wound up being kind of disappointed by the end. But I understand why they made the decision that they made.
Even a show like House of the Dragon has a limited budget, and doing all those effects-intensive dragon sequences costs a lot of money and takes a lot of time. They had a shorter season than they had the first time around; I’d imagine that changed the rhythm around a bit. It’s not maybe how I would have emphasized things towards the end, but I thought that as an episode it was so effective at building that tension. It was almost like a victim of its own success — like, if I hadn’t been so invested in all those fights happening, I wouldn’t have felt so disappointed. So in that way, it worked.
Abubakar Salim Is Trying to Keep House of the Dragon Fresh for Book Readers
Going from Raised by Wolves to a juggernaut like House of the Dragon — was stepping into this production noticeably different?
Yeah. There’s a feeling of it having already been stabilized: This is an IP that exists, it has its own universe, its own rules, a structure. With Raised by Wolves, it felt we had a lot more to prove; we’re bringing people into this new world. Whereas Game of Thrones had many years to establish the groundwork.But there was a security in that, a safety in knowing the world I’m dancing in. That was the big thing for me. It felt like, Oh, okay, I know what’s happening here.
I’m sorry, but I just have to fanboy out about Raised by Wolves for a second.
No, no, that’s grand! I’m so sad it didn’t come to fruition for the third season. We had something really cool cooking, and it was just heartbreaking, man. I’m so determined to figure out a way to get that story told in some way, shape, or form. But we’ll see. Give it time.
“House of the Dragon” thoughts, Season Two, Episode Eight: “The Queen Who Ever Was”
Chekhov warned writers against placing just one gun on the mantel without firing it by the end, let alone a dozen. In its second season finale, “House of the Dragon” calls Chekhov’s bluff 11 times over.
Vhagar, Dreamfyre, Syrax, Vermax, Vermithor, Caraxes, Seasmoke, Silverwing, Moondancer and the newcomers Sheepstealer and Tessarion: These are the living dragons introduced thus far, all available — theoretically, anyway — to take part in hostilities when the episode begins. (Aegon pronounces his dragon, Sunfyre, dead, so that takes him out of the action; more on Sheepstealer and Tessarion later.) Eleven beasts locked and loaded, and not a single one fired when the closing credits roll.
True, Vhagar torches a town off-camera at Aemond’s command, a horrific crime that shocks both the Black and Green camps. Still, the entire episode — the entire season — builds to a conflagration that never arrives. Even the abundance of dragons soaring together in the opening credits’ tapestry feels like a bait and switch.
That final cut to black knocked the wind out of my sails. Unfortunately, the episode is so good at building tension and anticipation for the three-front war on the horizon that it becomes a victim of its own success when the action doesn’t arrive.
I reviewed the season finale of House of the Dragon for the New York Times. (Gift link!)
“Lady in the Lake” thoughts, Episode Four: “Innocence leaves when you discover cruelty. First in others, then in yourself.”
This was the big one. In retrospect, the fourth episode of Lady in the Lake makes the first three look like they were holding their breath (when they weren’t gasping it out while fucking or dancing or running for their lives, of course), waiting for this big inevitable exhalation of raw unadulterated plot movement. A lot happens in this episode — some of it above and beyond what seems strictly necessary, or even advisable, to tell the story of these two women.
I reviewed this week’s episode of Lady in the Lake for Decider.
‘House of the Dragon’: Who’s Up? Who’s Down? Who’s Missing an Ear?
Before Season 2 of “House of the Dragon” began in mid-June, HBO hadn’t released a new episode for about two years; so with the premiere days away, we published a guide to the show’s sprawling cast.
Seven episodes later, much has changed. Westeros is divided by a civil war between the Blacks, who support Rhaenyra Targaryen’s claim to the throne, and the Greens, who support her half brother Aegon’s. Characters have died, been maimed or disappeared. Meanwhile, the common people — known in the show’s parlance as smallfolk — have played an increasingly large role, adding several new faces to the show. It seemed like time for an update.
Whether you’ve picked sides or simply want to catch up in time for the Sunday season finale, here is a look at the major players now.
I updated my guide to the cast of House of the Dragon for the New York Times. It’s a gift link!
The Boiled Leather Audio Hour on House of the Dragon Week 7!
Speaking personally, I think this week’s episode of BLAH, on this week’s episode of House of the Dragon, is one of the best we’ve ever recorded in almost 13 years of podcasting. Listen and decide for yourself, here or wherever you get your podcasts!
“Lady in the Lake” thoughts, Episode Three: “I was the the first to see her dead. You were the last to see her alive.”
Lady in the Lake is two shows in one. Each half has a charismatic female protagonist, a murder-mystery/crime-thriller plot, and an awareness of the race, class, and gender power differentials at work. But they don’t feel the same, do they, despite all that? And it goes beyond the skin color and religion of the leading players, too. Creator-director Alma Har’el and writer Briana Belser make this not just a tale of two cities, but almost of two genres.
I reviewed last week’s episode of Lady in the Lake for Decider.
‘Presumed Innocent’ Star O-T Fagbenle Reveals the ‘Ghostbusters’ Inspiration Behind His Hilarious Villain
His voice really jumps out at you. It’s the sound of every promising up-and-coming politician you’ve ever voted for, knowing the whole time he’s going to disappoint you. Where did it come from?
William Atherton, the bad guy in Ghostbusters. I was reading the script and thinking Who really annoys me like that? Who’s this kind of officious, pompous guy? Then I was like, Oh, wait. [Imitating Atherton’s Ghostbusters character, Walter Peck] “And what is the magic word? May I please? How many ghosts have you caught?” He was brilliant in it, and using this Ghostbusters character as a reference point really excited me, really intrigued me. I went to Joel Goldes, who actually was one of the two main dialect coaches I used for Obama, and he and I started trying to carve out this specific dialect.
How ‘House of the Dragon’ Turns Fiery Fantasy Into TV Reality
In Sunday’s episode, Queen Rhaenyra, played by Emma D’Arcy, recruits commoners of noble blood — the illegitimate children of Targaryen royals, known as dragonseeds — to see if these dragons will accept them as riders, in order to expand her army. Most die in fiery agony, but an unassuming barfly named Ulf claims Silverwing.
“I worked out quite quickly that Silverwing is one of the kinder dragons and, I believe, the most beautiful,” said Tom Bennett, who plays Ulf. His performance is different as a result: “It’s the first time you ever get to see someone flying a dragon laughing.”
Vermithor was something else, said Kieran Bew, who plays a commanding blacksmith named Hugh. The significance of the character, who has been seen throughout the season, is revealed when he claims the ill-tempered dragon.
“We talked about how Vermithor is the Bronze Fury — an angry dragon,” he said. “From a performance perspective, knowing that leads to the choices Hugh makes during the claiming. You’ve got to make yourself big, man.”
“House of the Dragon” thoughts, Season Two, Episode Seven: “The Red Sowing”
Elsewhere in the realm, Rhaenyra’s husband, Daemon, has other matters on his mind. (His daughter Rhaena, coincidentally, is off in the Vale on a dragon hunt of her own.) Oscar Tully (a commanding Archie Barnes), the teenage lord paramount of the pivotal Riverlands region, has come to Harrenhal with all his vassals for an audience with the self-appointed king. Daemon thinks this will be a simple matter of cowing a kid, then getting him to cow all the lords and ladies sworn to follow him.
But Lord Oscar is made of sterner stuff. Risking death by dragonfire, the kid dog-walks Daemon in front of all the Riverlords — proclaiming openly his dislike of the man, calling his conduct reprehensible and generally declaring him an unfit representative for a just cause. Finally, Oscar forces Daemon to execute one of his own loyal lords for war crimes if he wants the others’ help at all. Daemon glowers and fumes and … then does what he is told.
On the very day that he is brought to heel by a green boy who better understands politics than he does, Daemon is visited in a vision once again by his brother, King Viserys, maimed and deformed as he was in his dying days. Viserys holds his golden crown in his hands, telling his brother of its crushing weight, of the endless pain it causes.
“You always wanted it, Daemon,” the dream-king says. “Do you want it still?” For the first time since the show began, it feels as if the answer may be no.
I reviewed this week’s episode of House of the Dragon for the New York Times.
“Presumed Innocent” thoughts, Season One, Episode Eight: “The Verdict”
But throughout the season, I wasn’t really asking myself who killed Carolyn Polhemus. I was asking myself Why does Rusty act that way? and Since he’s constantly thinking of her in sexual terms, is he going to try to satiate that sex drive elsewhere again at some point? and Can Tommy Molto be saved? and Why does Nico Della Guardia sound like that anyway? Solve as many murders as you want as long as you let me keep those investigations wide open.
I reviewed the season finale of Presumed Innocent for Decider.
“Lady in the Lake” thoughts, Episode Two: “It has to do with the search for the marvelous.”
I’m not agnostic on whether it’s hot to watch a baked Natalie Portman come on to, and I mean come on hard to, a younger man she barely knows, from across any number of racial, religious, class, and career divides. The formation of desire, from its first primordial stirrings to the moment when the chemistry between mind, heart and body bursts into sensual life, is one of the core features of cinema. Har’el captures that spark of desire, the moment when the idea of sex goes from “huh! interesting!” to “I am making this happen,” beautifully here.
I reviewed the second episode of Lady in the Lake for Decider.
“Lady in the Lake” thoughts, Episode One: “Did you know Seahorses are fish?”
“They say,” the narration begins, “until the lion tells its story, the hunter will always be the hero.” Crime stories, true or otherwise, often bear this out; you don’t have to be an aficionado to notice that, but it helps. I once spent an unhappy time in my life learning about serial killers, and one fact kept stopping me short: While the killer’s story begins when he starts killing, the victim’s story ends at the same time. Killers take away a person’s right to tell their own story, in their own time.
Based on the novel by Laura Lippman, creator/writer/director/co-editor Alma Har’el’s Lady in the Lake aims to redress this problem. “Aims” may be understating it: From the very first lines, spoken by a woman who’s talking to you from beyond the watery grave we’re watching her get dumped into, Lady takes a damn sledgehammer to the killer-centric narrative. It’s not subtle, is what I’m saying. But maybe it shouldn’t be.