I’m trying, as hard as I can, not to let my lifetime of Tolkien readership to affect my judgment of the show, which is its own thing in a very different medium with different structures, strengths, and requirements. But it’s hard! It’s hard because I know how complex and tragic this material can be, and I’m seeing so little of that complexity and tragedy; in its place are a bunch of gritty tough guys and wide-eyed wonder-seekers I don’t recognize, whether their origins are canonical or not. Aside from some really cheesy seafaring sequences everything still looks solid and expensive, but it feels like some vital part of the storytelling and character-building budget was cut. Short of a magic ring, I’m not sure how the show digs itself out of that hole.

I reviewed this week’s episode of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power for Decider.

In what is somehow our third weekly episode in a row, Stefan and I tackle House of the Dragon episode 3 in the latest Boiled Leather Audio Hour podcast, available here or wherever podcasts are sold!

Even the more minor characters stand out. Hall is a hoot as the slimy Jason Lannister and as his anxious twin brother Tyland, who’s replaced Corlys as Master of Ships on the Small Council. And Gavin Spokes has a winning presence as Lord Lyonel Strong, seemingly the only member of the Council willing to give Viserys advice that doesn’t directly benefit himself or his house. (He rejects his own son as a suitor for Rhaenyra in favor of Laenor.)

I reviewed tonight’s episode of House of the Dragon for Rolling Stone.

The biggest problem with this episode is evident if you compare it to, like, any other episode of good television. For the most part, stories in prestige TV are driven by character interaction. People encounter one another, have conversations or arguments or fights, emerge on the other side either changed or redoubled in their determination not to change, and the plot proceeds from there. (This is how House of the Dragon works, to cite an obvious point of comparison for this show.)

In this episode, though, written by Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul veteran Gennifer Hutchison of all people, way too many of the scene transitions that propel the narrative are these kind of cheap cliffhangers, in which the action is cut off just before or just after something interesting happens. Arondir gets got by some goblins? Cut! Durin père and Durin fils open a treasure box with a secret MacGuffin inside? Cut! Theo’s blood gets drawn into his obviously evil Sauronic artifact? Cut! Galadriel and Halbard get rescued by the silhouette of an off-camera sailor? Cut! 

You could get away with one or even two of these pseudo-suspenseful edits, I guess. But a whole suite of them? It’s not storytelling — it’s a cheat code, the easiest possible way to drive people from one moment (or episode) of the story to the next. I’m surprised it made it out of the writers’ room this way.

I reviewed the second episode of The Rings of Power for Decider.

At this point, I want to state for the record that I am currently covering not only The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power and Game of Thrones: House of the Dragon, and in neither case do I feel it’s my job to adjudicate the differences between the books and the shows. The books are the books and the shows are the shows — two different media, two different sets of structures and demands and rewards. Ultimately, what matters is what winds up on screen, and how that comes across to the viewer.

That being said, I must admit that it’s extraordinarily difficult for a person like me — a guy who first read The Hobbit at age 5, who’s seen the LotR movies more times than I can count, who’s read Tolkien’s books to his children multiple times, who has the goddamned White Tree of Gondor tattooed on his arm — to formulate an equal appreciation for the canonical characters and the invented ones. Galadriel and Elrond, and even Finrod and Gil-galad — these are old friends of mine, dating back decades. Arondir and Bronwyn and Theo and Nori? To paraphrase Mariah Carey, I don’t know them.

I reviewed tonight’s series premiere of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, which was okay, for Decider.

Which brings us to the heart of the story: family drama. At this point, underneath all the dragon-riding and crab-feeding, this is ultimately a show about a dad, a daughter, and the demands that are pulling them apart.

Paddy Considine and Milly Alcock, the performers in question, root this material in vivid, empathetic acting. Considine constantly wears a hangdog expression on his instantly likeable face; his Viserys is a guy who wants to be happy, and is deeply frustrated to find that he can’t be. No wonder he selects Alicent, who’s become his closest friend, to rule the realm with him.

Alcock, meanwhile, projects a blend of precociousness and vulnerability, enhanced by the show’s blocking choices. She may insist on selecting the next Kingsguard knight, but she has to stand on a stepstool to see the candidates; she convinces Uncle Daemon to back down, but he towers over her in much the same way that his dragon dwarfs her own.

I reviewed last night’s episode of House of the Dragon for Rolling Stone.

Kicking off what we hope will be the start of a weekly series, Stefan Sasse and I review the premiere of House of the Dragon in the new episode of the Boiled Leather Audio Hour podcast! Available at the link or wherever you get your podcasts!

For now, there’s already plenty to marvel at — the uniformly excellent cast, for starters. Considine is marvelous as Viserys, a man who simply wants to be liked by everyone, an impossibility for someone in his position. Alcock is similarly impressive as the young Rhaenyra, caught in limbo between the freedom she enjoys and the power she’s beginning to realize she desires. Toussaint and Ifans make strong impressions as the king’s most powerful counselors, ever at odds. And Smith is a revelation as Daemon — both a brute and a sensualist, who’s able to privately smile at his rival’s insults even as he plots to defeat them.

I’m back at my old Game of Thrones stomping grounds, Rolling Stone, for my review of the House of the Dragon premiere.

I wrote about the series finale of Better Call Saul for my Patreon.

I wrote about the penultimate episode of Better Call Saul for my Patreon.

But ultimately, it’s about Jimmy Keene’s desperation to help the girls’ families Larry murdered. In other words, his discovery of a cause much bigger and more morally meaningful than his own freedom should his mission succeed. That’s why he could no longer sit there and listen as Larry detailed his crimes and gleefully anticipated his own likely release. That’s what made him blow up at Larry, what made him scream for the doctor or the warden or the FBI, what drove him to repeatedly infuriate his guards despite the punishments they doled out to him, what caused him to scrawl all over the cell walls in his own blood like a madman, what made him cry and feel like a failure even after McCauley tells him he’s nailed Larry. Even after he’s free, the judge commutes his sentence while wondering aloud where Jimmy’s overwhelming sense of entitlement went while in that “hell” he went to.

Those girls, their lives, their deaths, the love their families felt for them, and the love they felt for their families: These things are real to Jimmy in a way nothing else, not even his own plight, is.

I reviewed the magnificent finale of Black Bird for Vulture. This was a powerful show that exceeded my expectations.

Cheekily titled after the series from which it is a spinoff, Better Call Saul‘s most recent episode deftly if unspectacularly stitches together scenes from the past and present of Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman/Gene Takavic’s life. It will thus likely be remembered for the cameos not just of BCS regulars Tina Parker as Jimmy/Saul’s secretary Francesca (with whom it appears he devised a method to keep in touch) and Jonathan Banks as Mike Ehrmantraut (seen in a flashback reporting on the real identity of Saul’s potential new client “Heisenberg”), but also and especially Bryan Cranston and Aaron Paul as Walter White and Jesse Pinkman, whom we rejoin during their half-assed kidnapping of Saul the night they first hired him. The present-day material, in which Gene re-recruits the man he ran the department-store scam with for a far more ambitious series of home invasions and identity thefts, adds a certain pathos to all this; at this point, the former Jimmy McGill is just another middle-aged man with a dated mustache, turning to a life of crime more out of boredom than Walt’s desperation.

But none of that is what I’ll really remember from this episode.

I wrote about tonight’s episode of Better Call Saul for my Patreon.

With this simple act, this insistence on giving Larry Hall’s sole legally accredited victim a voice in her own story, Black Bird earns my undying respect. Why should the killers monopolize the stories of the lives they snuffed out? Why shouldn’t their victims, vibrant and alive and full of their own hopes and fears and dreams, have a say in how they are remembered? If a show about the murder of girls doesn’t treat them as fully human and possessing agency, who will?

I reviewed this week’s episode of Black Bird for Vulture.

I reviewed this week’s episode of Better Call Saul for my Patreon.

At long last, Gretchen Felker-Martin and I return with a new episode of our TV podcast Cut to Black! This time around we’re talking about the address to the College of Cardinals from The Young Pope—available here, here, or wherever you get your podcasts!

Where does that leave us, then? In the grips of an expertly made story of devotion and deceit, supported by excellent acting (I’m particularly impressed with John Lithgow’s ability to convey dismay and disbelief in seemingly dozens of different ways), played out with guns, on an international scale. And hey, did I ever mention how beautiful those medieval-style opening titles with the dogs are, by the way? The Old Man is crackerjack TV, in other words. I can’t wait for round two.

I reviewed the excellent season finale of The Old Man for Decider.

None of this would work half so well as it does if not for the fine, carefully contrasted performances of Taron Egerton as Jimmy and Paul Walter Hauser as Larry. Hauser’s showier, if you can call the reedy-voiced Larry showy; his distinctive manner of speech and off-kilter physicality no doubt reflect the careful study of such men. But Egerton is impressive in his own right, always walking in such a way as to emphasize his muscular bulk — as if to impress women and frighten abusers who are no longer there.

I reviewed this week’s episode of Black Bird for Vulture.

I walked around my apartment, holding a beer and singing the opening riff to “Plainsong” by the Cure to myself. I wasn’t sure what else to do. 

In the very first installment of my series of posts entitled My Favorite Music, I wrote about the Cure’s Disintegration, calling it an album about a sadness so huge you could land a spacecraft on it. It’s about outsized emotions, extravagant emotions, emotions in excess, emotions too big to be talked about, to be hashed out, to be discussed in logical terms.

In tonight’s episode of Better Call Saul, Jimmy McGill snaps. Instantly, as far as the magic of TV time is concerned. One moment, he’s being dumped by his wife Kim Wexler, who is so aghast at the horrors their conduct together has wrought that she gives up her life as a lawyer as well as his wife. The next moment, Jimmy awakens to a Journey song, next to a prostitute, in a ghastly and gaudy new apartment. He then makes the transition to his awful strip-mall office, with its inflatable Statue of Liberty on the roof and the ridiculous text of the Constitution written on its high-columned walls.

It happens that fast. He’s Jimmy for most of the episode, and then he’s Saul, forever and ever, amen.

I wrote about tonight’s episode of Better Call Saul for my Patreon.

[whispering to date while watching The Old Man when The Old Man first appears on the screen] That’s The Old Man

Apologies to Twitter user @vineyville, but that was the tweet that came to mind the moment John Lithgow’s Harold Harper, the simultaneously scheming and well-intention assistant director of the FBI, told Jeff Bridges’ “Dan Chase” that “the Old Man”—Joel Grey’s Morgan Bote—has his daughter, Alia Shawkat’s Angela Adams/Emily Chase. Their daughter, actually, if you want to count Angela/Emily’s close work relationship with Harold as a father-daughter thing, which both characters seem comfortable doing.

If that paragraph seems confusing, congratulations—you’re watching The Old Man! This penultimate episode of the skillful spy drama’s first season is an at-times dizzying display of conflicting loyalties, secret relationships, and sudden betrayals. Like the coded messages that Angela and Chase send to each other using secret bank accounts, it can take a lot of deciphering.

I reviewed this week’s episode of The Old Man for Decider.

Show of hands, and be honest here: Who among you thought this drama about a drug dealer cozying up to a serial killer would feature real-life mafia don Vincent “the Chin” Gigante in a supporting role as that drug dealer’s benefactor on the inside?

No one? Okay then!

Hell, I was taken aback, too. But at the suggestion of a friendly (more on that later) prison guard, our anti-hero Jimmy Keene, cop’s son turned gun- and drug-runner, becomes acquainted with honest-to-god Genovese family boss Gigante (Tony Amendola). Dubbed “the Oddfather” by the always-colorful New York press, Gigante was often found wandering the streets of Greenwich Village in his bathrobe muttering to himself — a ruse meant to keep law enforcement off his back that worked for nearly three decades.

By the time Jimmy meets him, that’s all over with: He’s been convicted and imprisoned, and so he’s now just an old Italian American gentleman who enjoys playing boccie in the prison yard and dislikes being disrespected by anyone, ever. Despite his Irish surname, Jimmy manages to get on the Chin’s good side with three-quarter Italian ancestry, good manners, and not-half-bad boccie playing. (He learned the game from his Irish grandfather, but the Chin doesn’t hold that against him.) If Jimmy really were just the humble Wisconsin gunrunner that his cover story makes him out to be, he just found the best rabbi in perhaps the entire American carceral system.

I reviewed this week’s episode of Black Bird for Vulture.