‘Sesame Street’

PBS, 1969-Present; HBO, 2016-20; HBO Max, 2020-Present

He wasn’t a big yellow bird or a furry blue monster, but Joe Raposo was as integral to the success of the children’s educational institution Sesame Street as any Muppet. In addition to writing classic Sesame songs like “Bein’ Green,” “Sing,” and “C Is for Cookie” — that’s good enough for me — Raposo composed the jaunty, instantly recognizable theme song that helped lodge the show in the public consciousness. With lyrics by Raposo, Jon Stone, and Bruce Hart, “Can You Tell Me How to Get to Sesame Street?” conjures up images of smiling kids running down the sidewalk on a sunny day — headed, in the words of Don Draper, to a place where they know they are loved. —S.T.C.

I contributed over a dozen entries to Rolling Stone’s list of the Top 100 TV Theme Songs of All Time, from Game of Thrones to Cheers to Where in the World Is Carmen Sandiego? Go read and argue!

Which brings us back to that torn-out page Alicent sent to Rhaenyra as an olive branch. The two girls were just 14 when Rhaenyra was declared heir and Alicent was sent by Otto to “comfort” a grieving Viserys, putting an end to those carefree days. Luke was just 14 when he died. And so a war set up long ago in the names of two children, who grow into women whose shared childhood memories nearly prevent that war from breaking out, becomes inevitable when a child dies. None of these poor kids asked for any of this, but the system — the monarchy, the patriarchy, the violence underpinning it all — turned them all into cogs in the war machine anyway.

Dragons, incest, one-eyed princes, ancient prophecies, etc.: They’re the flashy, occasionally sleazy adult-fantasy stuff that have made Dragon blockbuster material. The arresting visuals — the meeting between Rhaenyra and Otto at sunset, Luke’s flight through the stormclouds, all those hulking dragons — help as well. But it’s that central tragedy, of two well-meaning women slowly made into realm-destroying monsters in a world where actual monsters still take wing, that elevates the show above its genre counterparts. Forget dragons for a moment; there are other ways to soar.

I reviewed the season finale of House of the Dragon for Rolling Stone. Heck of a show!

Writer Sara Hess and director Clare Kilner give the whole affair the vibe of a tense political thriller, as alliances are forged and broken and various players jockey for position in the new regime. Much of this is achieved through deft character work that helps shore up some of the show’s shakier decisions.

For example, is it a little annoying that Alicent decides to crown Aegon instead of Rhaenyra due to a sitcom-style mix-up involving Viserys’s dying declaration? Sure. But it’s worth noting how duty-bound she seems to feel about it; as far as she’s concerned, she’s doing the right thing and honoring the late king’s wishes, not gleefully screwing her frenemy over. In fact, she fights — hard — to keep Rhaenyra alive in the face of opposition from no less than her own father. Actor Olivia Cooke threads this needle with aplomb.

Similarly, Rhaenys’s decision not to roast the whole royal family comes across as foolhardy, at least at first. But keep in mind that, like Alicent, the older woman is trying to avoid a war, not start one. If she were to inaugurate her former daughter-in-law Rhaenyra’s reign by sneak-attack slaughtering Aegon II, Otto, and Alicent, as well as innocents like Aegon’s sister-wife Helaena, how would that help anyone?

(One quick note: Helaena appears to have foreseen Rhaenys’s dragon attack, muttering about “a beast beneath the boards” earlier in the episode. Pay attention to this one, folks.)

Then there’s Aegon himself. He’s a thoroughly contemptible person, and he both knows it and hates himself for it, as conveyed through a remarkable performance by actor Tom Glynn-Carney. He has no desire to be king, and says so; he thinks his mother’s claim that his dad declared him the heir on his deathbed is bullshit, and says so too. But once he hears the roar of the crowd, he begins to change his tune, holding his legendary sword Blackfyre aloft and pumping it to pump up the people. Given that his only hobbies appear to be drinking and making weaker people suffer, that’s not a good sign.

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

Yet the show’s decision to utilize the Ice and Fire prophecy to once again weaponize Alicent against Rhaenyra, mere hours after they reconcile, is a much tougher sell. It’s possible Alicent is just hearing what she wants to, deliberately ignoring her dying husband’s obvious confusion and dementia because his garbled words match what she still desires. But if it turns out that she sincerely believes she and her son are the chosen ones, it replaces so much of the show’s careful character work with the blunt force of fantasy, a shaky foundation for the divided House. We’ll steer clear of issuing our own prophecies on the matter, though, preferring instead to just stay tuned.

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

A CHILD RUNS across the moonlit sands. As the stars shine down into the ocean nearby, the boy approaches a dragon asleep on the beach — Vhagar, massive and ancient, the largest and oldest animal in Westeros. Determined to seize what he feels is his birthright, he braves the beast’s searching eyes and fiery gullet, climbing up the rope ladder to its back dozens of feet off the ground. Commanding the creature in an ancient tongue, he drives it into the sky, taking flight at long last. The boy shakes, tumbles, hangs on for dear life…but in the end, he stays in control. A child, commanding the most dangerous thing in the world.

That’s the mythic imagery and power around which this episode of House of the Dragon (“Driftmark”) centers: young Aemond Targaryen, the second male offspring of King Viserys — the son and heir of nothing in particular, as the old song goes — seizing control of his late aunt Laena Velaryon’s legendary reptilian steed. If only it were all this poetic and magical. Unfortunately for Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, Laena’s funeral and the events that follow mostly play out like a slow-rolling disaster. Alliances are formed, old friendships are severed forever, and the realm will likely never be the same.

In other words, it’s a royal family gathering in Westeros. What else did you expect?

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

…is now available for your perusal on my Patreon! Go subscribe and see what the hell I’m on about!

I was asked to submit a ballot for Rolling Stone’s big list of the 100 Greatest TV Shows of All Time, written top to bottom by Alan Sepinwall. Can you guess which ones I voted for, and which of my votes missed the cut?

FEAR NOT, PEOPLE of Westeros: The line of succession is strong.

True, we’ve said goodbye to Milly Alcock as Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Emily Carey as Queen Alicent Hightower, two key peformances that helped make House of the Dragon a massive hit. But even after a 10-year time jump, the introduction of a whole new generation of Targaryen heirs, and the replacement of Alcock and Carey with older actors Emma D’Arcy and Olivia Cooke respectively, this prequel series has somehow not missed a beat. Indeed, this is the show’s best episode yet. Even a maester would tell you this is a minor miracle.

I reviewed last night’s episode of House of the Dragon, which was essentially a new series premiere, for Rolling Stone.

WHEN IT COMES to weddings in Westeros, the vibes are always off. Think of King Joffrey’s marriage to Margaery Tyrell, which ended with him turning purple as he choked to death. Or of Sansa Stark’s two depressing betrothals, first to Tyrion Lannister — who was no happier about it than she was — and then to Ramsay Bolton, the less said about whom the better. Remember Daenerys Targaryen’s grim, nonconsenual union with Khal Drogo over in Essos? And, of course, there’s the still-legendary Red Wedding, a bloody landmark moment in pulling-the-rug-out-from-under-the-audience TV history.

Did you think that just because House of the Dragon is a new show, weddings would be any different? Ha!

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

It is admittedly a darkly erotic thrill to watch the unconventionally beautiful actors Milly Alcock and Matt Smith play their roles as Rhaenyra and Daemon, as these characters slowly warm to the idea of getting it on in a semi-public environment. It speaks to the complexities of Daemon’s character that he backs off before the deed can be done — and to the burgeoning desires of Rhaenyra herself when she seduces her Kingsguard knight Ser Criston Cole as a replacement for her uncle. Both scenes — Rhaenyra and Daemon making out and stripping down in the brothel, Rhaenyra studiously stripping Cole out of his armor so that they can fuck in the Red Keep — have genuine heat.

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

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.

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.

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.

Not even the desert winds of the planet Arrakis can match the heat around the long-anticipated arrival of Dune, director Denis Villeneuve’s adaptation of Frank Herbert’s landmark 1965 science-fiction classic. Staring Timothée Chalamet as the young nobleman Paul Atreides, Zendaya as his love interest Chani, Oscar Isaac as his father Duke Leto, and Jason Momoa as his mentor Duncan Idaho, this new version of the old classic has weathered the pandemic storm to finally arrive in theaters (and on HBO Max) on October 22nd. But while Herbert’s dense worldbuilding and inventive jargon has made the book a bestseller since its inception, it can be a notoriously impenetrable work — especially when it comes to adapting its long, winding story for the screen.

Don’t know your Baron Harkkonen from your Bene Gesserit? Don’t sweat it: Our quick and dirty guide to Dune will get you up to speed.

I’m thrilled to be back at Rolling Stone for the first time in a long time with this new Dune cheat sheet.

“I dunno,” Caleb says. “The world looks a little like a nightmare, Dolores.”

“Change is messy,” Dolores replies. “Difficult.”

Take a look around, people. They’re both right!

Set in a chaotic, desperate world that’s a bit too close for comfort right now, Westworld‘s season finale (“Crisis Theory”) is based on the hope that Dolores can have her apocalyptic cake and eat a new-world utopia, too. Concerned with her and Caleb’s quest to upload the Solomon supercomputer’s plans for revolution into its successor Rehoboam — and with Cerac and Maeve’s attempts to stop them — it’s an ugly action thriller that asks us if humanity has enough beauty in it to be worth saving.

I reviewed the season finale of Westworld for Rolling Stone. I have mixed feelings about it, and about the whole season, but it certainly was a rewarding stretch of TV to write about, the way good-but-not-good TV often can be.

Thandie Newton and Evan Rachel Wood have a sword-and-knife fight. If you take away nothing else from this episode of Westworld (“Passed Pawn”), let it be the sight of these two badass women kicking the living shit out of each other.

It’s the episode’s highlight — even if it’s never quite clear why they don’t work together instead of trying to tear each other apart. (It’s got something to do with Maeve’s alliance with Serac, and Dolores’ control of the key to the robot heaven called the Sublime … but these seem like problems that could be resolved over a cup of coffee rather than a rumble.) Sometimes you just want to see two talented, beautiful actors have a Matrix style knock-down drag-out fight, and on that count, this week’s installment did not disappoint.

I reviewed this week’s episode of Westworld for Rolling Stone.

Add it all up, and what do you get? An episode exciting and jam-packed enough to help us put some of our reservations about the course of the show aside, at least for the time being. Is it still a bit glib with the violence? Yes. Is Serac still a bit too much of a one-note supervillain? Yes. Did a gigantic riot-control robot pulp a bunch of redshirts as part of a war between beautiful murder androids? Yes. Does that last bit trump the rest?

Maybe it does, folks. Maybe it does.

I reviewed tonight’s episode of Westworld for Rolling Stone.

Look, sociopathic tech gurus are a dime a dozen, and it’s not a stretch to believe that Serac would orchestrate some extremely shady shenanigans in order to preserve their fortunes, further their visions for society etc. But getting their hands dirty directly by murking someone themselves? That’s a bit harder to swallow — the stuff of comic-book supervillains like Lex Luthor, not real-life oligarchs. It’s like watching a version of The Social Network in which Mark Zuckerberg beats the Winklevoss twins to death with his bare hands.

[…]

It’s worth noting here that all of this might have gone down a bit more smoothly had his story been a gradual reveal from episode to episode. This installment is basically a data dump — literally and figuratively — in which his life story, raison d’être, and mad plans for the future are all delivered in big clunky chunks of exposition. Compare that to the mythic sweep and power of the comparable Akecheta spotlight episode from last season, and the Serac arc comes up short. Think about the leisurely pace with which the show got us up close and personal with Dolores, Maeve, Bernard, the Man in Black — a much better approach, no?

I reviewed this week’s episode of Westworld for Rolling Stone. It’s the first of the new batch that has left me wondering if there’s insufficient gas in the tank for the show’s latter-day switch to straightforward pulp.

It’s Doloreses all the way down.

I reviewed this week’s episode of Westworld for Rolling Stone.

The Delos corporation has created a monster. Yes, another one.

This particular robotic beast isn’t an eerily accurate android replica of humanity. It’s a towering riot-control robot, one that looks more like Optimus Prime or Robocop‘s ED-209 than Evan Rachel Wood. There are hundreds more just like it, just waiting for a buyer. But the host-pretending-to-be-Delos bigwig Charlotte Hale has other ideas. “I’m sure we can find some use for them,” she deadpans. Consider Chekov’s mantle-placed gun officially locked and loaded, humankind.

I reviewed last week’s episode of Westworld for Rolling Stone.