* Last night, during my stint enjoying the hospitality of the Long Island Rail Road, I finished the first disc of Mad Men Season Two. With a little more than a full season under my belt, I find that I still don’t really relate to it on a competence-fantasy level — but what I do relate to is what Don Draper is so competent at. He’s a writer! A copywriter at that! I’ve now read and watched so many stories about people who murder other people for a living that watching people spend time trying to figure out the right turn of phrase for a headline feels bizarre. Bizarre, but good.

* The best part is that Mad Men nails the main pleasure of copywriting: Using creativity to solve a puzzle. Case in point: Don, Sal, and Peggy try to figure out the right tagline for their Mohawk Airlines ad. Don rejects the initial sexual-adventure angle he’d helped develop in their previous meeting, instead focusing on Sal’s background illustration of the traveler’s little daughter. On the spot, Peggy suggests a series of taglines reflecting this new direction, and she and Don tweak and reject them until she arrives at the magical “What did you bring me, Daddy?” She knows it’s right, Don knows it’s right, Sal knows it’s right. I know that sensation! I’ve gotten it myself during my dayjob writing copy for a bookseller, and during freelance gigs writing jacket copy for graphic novels, and in meetings at my old magazine jobs, coming up with coverlines. The thrill of recognition was palpable.

* Which leads to a surprising insight: Don’s work life is actually pretty good! I expected him to be embroiled in cutthroat office politics the entire time, but at least up until this point, his work-related problems are actually personal problems in work drag: his problematic relationship with his client Rachel Mencken; an unexpected intel coup by his envious underling Pete Campbell; a quickly avenged and forgotten pass at his wife by Roger Sterling. Those events aside, Don has a creatively and financially fulfilling job. He has the full support of his superiors; even the one time that Cooper gainsays him by insisting they keep Campbell, Sterling immediately steps into the breach to safeguard Don’s authority in Campbell’s eyes. He has the nearly worshipful admiration of everyone at the office, from his bosses (who are also his friends) to his employees (including Pete, his own protestations to the contrary). He’s good enough at his job to actually deserve that admiration, moreover. He wants a raise, he gets it. He wants to make partner, he gets it. In fact, hiring Duck Phillips and discovering that he disagrees with the decisions Duck’s making in his old job is the first time Don goes up against anything resembling a structural problem with his job. No wonder he’s sacrificed or marginalized so much outside of the office.

* Peggy’s arc is a lot more disheartening than Don’s, because it entails her becoming a worse person as a function of getting better at her job. I’d be lying if I told you that my own recent experiences with miscarriage, premature birth, and fatherhood didn’t color my perception of her decision to reject her baby. Simply put, that scene made me cry at my desk. (It’s been tempered somewhat by the revelation that she handled her I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant moment badly enough to be classified as mentally ill and/or maternally unfit by the state.) But it’s not just what she’s done about her baby. I watched in something approaching horror as she dismantled the pretty young voice actress she cast in the commercial for the weight-loss vibrator thingamajig, thinking that she was harping on a perceived lack of confidence to compensate for her own — but this blossomed into full-blown horror when I realized she did this on purpose so that she could ingratiate herself with the unctuously macho Kenneth Cosgrove by providing him with easy pickings, breaking the actress apart so he could sweep in and reassemble her around his dick. Peggy appears to have learned what it seems a lot of viewers don’t learn from Don and company’s behavior, which is that you can’t separate the competence fantasy from the competence nightmare.

* Don’s most profound violation of Betty’s trust was neither his many affairs, nor his lies about his name and background. It was his collusion with her psychotherapist. I’m not really sure if what I’m about to say truly squares with the reality of these situations, but I can’t help but feel that both his adultery and his identity are matters of withholding himself from Betty. These are areas of his life he has chosen not to share with her. But by violating her privacy in therapy, he’s actively invading those areas she chooses to keep from him in turn — socially sanctioned areas at that, unlike his own. It’s vile. And when I realized that his purloined phone bill would reveal not phone calls to mistresses (he was always pretty careful about that) but phone calls to the doctor, I gasped.

* Betty handled it differently than I thought she might, by the way. I think I expected a “press a button and she falls apart” physical collapse akin to — well, I won’t say, but another prominent drama involving a husband who cheated on his wife, when the wife was finally confronted with this in a way she couldn’t avoid. Instead, in true Draper fashion, she shrewdly uses her knowledge to voice her concerns and suspicions about Don’s infidelity, knowing that either a) the doctor wouldn’t dare tell Don about this, thus preserving her privacy, or b) the doctor would tell Don about this, thus starting a conversation she couldn’t bring herself to start on her own.

* But first she breaks down and cries and confides to a nine-year-old boy. I found her two interactions with her divorced neighbor’s sad little kid enormously affecting. The first, in which the kid busts in on her while she’s peeing and she subsequently gives him a lock of her hair, was like the fulfillment of every young boy’s first pre-sexual kindling of the erotic impulse. That’s a topic I don’t think I’ve ever seen addressed, except in cheesy Franco-Italian sexual-awakening movies about sultry brunettes who turn their little villages upside-down. But it was also enormously revealing of how desperate Betty was for sexual and romantic validation, and how little emotional sustenance her friends, husband, and work as a homemaker and mother were providing her. That second parking-lot interaction was all of that writ large, with the bonus violation of the era’s rigid insistence on the sacredness of childhood. She forced the kid to be an adult — in a tender and sad and empathetic way, so much so that even the kid realized this person needed taking care of, but yeah, that’s what she did. It was brilliantly written, and frankly January Jones, whatever her faults elsewhere, couldn’t be more ideal as this porcelain-doll wifebot who occasionally cracks in profound and dangerous ways.

* Back to Don for a moment: My favorite part of the slow-burning Dick Whitman reveal came before you even knew it was a reveal. It was the first time we ever heard the name “Dick Whitman,” when a fellow commuter bumped into Don on the train and used this unfamiliar name. For the entire conversation, I thought that this guy simply had it wrong, that it was a case of mistaken identity, that Don was rolling with it because doing so was easier than correcting him, that a point was being made about Don as an unperson, a meticulously constructed generic man-shaped void. And I think those last couple of points still stand, regardless. What an eerie, haunting little scene.

* Another detail I enjoyed: Don and Pete’s on-again, off-again, bonafide camaraderie — the camaraderie of enemies. In the course of my life, from grade school till now, I’ve had, I dunno, half a dozen dudes (always dudes) who’ve actively sought to hurt me and/or were out to get me in some way. In all cases this weird affinity develops with them in a way that doesn’t exist with more run-of-the-mill critics or unpleasant acquaintances. You get to know someone you hate, and when you get to know them, a closeness develops whether you want it to or not. In one case in my own life, a guy I almost came to blows with once in high school (unbeknownst to me — our mutual friends kept him away from me) literally did the look-back-on-it-and-laugh thing a year later, when we became friends in college. We wouldn’t have gotten there if we hadn’t started someplace else. So I totally buy the seemingly genuine concern, respect, and pleasantness that breaks out between Don and Pete every now and then. As Bert Cooper told Don, one never knows how loyalty is born.

* A couple of quick notes on two key supporting players. You’ll note that when I did a quick list of actors on this show who are easy on the eyes, I didn’t mention John Slattery as Roger Sterling. I dunno, there was something slightly avian and predatory in his sharp gray features. But Jesus can that guy talk. Hand me a mic and a phonebook, for real. What great casting, to make him the guy for whom bon mots are a way of life. He’s a juggernaut of verbal charm. The most troubling thing about his move on Betty Draper or his attempted twincest threeway on the night of his heart attack wasn’t the morality of the deeds, but how clumsy he was in suggesting them. That’s how you knew something was wrong. That’s sharp writing.

* Watching these DVDs was my first-ever glimpse of Christina Hendricks in a noncleavagecentric capacity. If you’ve only ever known of her in the context of your suspicion that Tumblr was developed as a slightly inefficient Christina Hendricks photo delivery mechanism, watching her act — specifically, watching her play Joan Holloway, who is herself a ruthlessly efficient Joan Holloway delivery mechanism — is a revelation. That’s a part that could be very one-note and very dull in someone else’s hands, but Hendricks brings the character to her own tenaciously curated form of life. Always you see the effort behind the effortlessness, but just a little of it, just enough to prevent her from lapsing into caricature on either side of the line. Hendricks makes “making ‘making it look easy’ look hard” look easy.

In a cosmic coincidence, just days before Netflix announced that it was doubling its rates and renaming itself “Poops Deluxe,” I finally started watching the Mad Men discs I’d had out probably for the duration of wife’s pregnancy and our child’s first six months of life. Guess what? It’s a good show! I have the following spoiler-free thoughts about it in particular after watching the first four episodes:

1. Whoever cast this thing deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor. Jon Hamm is an enormously pleasant man to look at for an hour at a time. He’s like the human equivalent of Craig Thompson’s drawing: No matter how daunting the size of the undertaking, on a visual level it’s just like, “Hey, this’ll be nice.” And supporting players from Christina Hendricks to Bryan Batt are similarly enjoyable to look at for various reasons.

2. There was a twist in one episode involving a firm decision Don made, the kind you really can’t back down from, being undone by forces beyond his control, and I sat there watching it unfold thinking “How is he going to recover from this mess?” Then another character swooped in and fixed it for him by doing something I never in a million years would have thought to do, either as the character or as the writer. That impressed the hell out of me. Writing that’s smarter than you are is a rare gift, frankly.

3. Tom Spurgeon has this thing about contemporary superhero comics being, basically, competence fantasies. The reason all the characters have gradually been powered up into unstoppable badasses is because that’s what the audience is identifying with. They don’t want to see challenges dealt with, they want to see challenges overcome. Nerd culture has a problem with this generally — I see it a lot in A Song of Ice and Fire fandom, where readers “stop liking” Character X when Character X fucks up or does something stupid or reckless or naive, as if doing so makes them less interesting or worth reading about. I watch a show like Mad Men — or The Sopranos, or Deadwood, or The Wire, or Battlestar Galactica, or even Lost, which as the nerd-culture-est of all those shows had to deal with this problem over and over again as they made Jack and Locke progressively less heroic/antiheroic and more unpleasant — and wonder how the fuck those kinds of people process someone like Don Draper. Do they just not watch? Or are these the sociopaths who watch this show and feel like it’s brought back early ’60s smart-haircuts-and-suits-and-cigarettes-and-scotch coolness again, ignoring that all those things are basically just the pointy tails and pitchforks adorning this particular hell on earth?

Here are links to all of my Game of Thrones reviews. I’ve added the special features I’ve written for Rolling Stone to the list chronologically, so that once you’ve read the preceding review post, it’s safe to read that feature as well. I hope you enjoy them!

SEASON ONE
Episode 01: Winter Is Coming
Episode 02: The Kingsroad
Episode 03: Lord Snow
Episode 04: Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things
Episode 05: The Wolf and the Lion
Episode 06: A Golden Crown
Episode 07: You Win or You Die
Episode 08: The Pointy End
Episode 09: Baelor
Episode 10: Fire and Blood
List: The Seven Most Awful Things People Did on Game of Thrones Season One

SEASON TWO
Episode 11: The North Remembers
Episode 12: The Night Lands
Episode 13: What Is Dead May Never Die
Episode 14: Garden of Bones
Episode 15: The Ghost of Harrenhal
Episode 16: The Old Gods and the New
Episode 17: A Man Without Honor
List: The 10 Biggest Differences Between Game of Thrones and the Books
Episode 18: The Prince of Winterfell
Episode 19: Blackwater
Episode 20: Valar Morghulis
* Follow-up 01
* Follow-up 02
List: The Best and Worst New Characters in Game of Thrones Season Two
List: Final Standings in the Game of Thrones After Season Two

SEASON THREE
Q&A: Bryan Cogman (Executive Story Editor)
Season Three Cheat Sheet
Season Three New Character Guide
Episode 21: “Valar Dohaeris”
Q&A: Natalie Dormer (Margaery Tyrell)
Episode 22: “Dark Wings, Dark Words”
Q&A: Sophie Turner (Sansa Stark)
Episode 23: “Walk of Punishment”
Q&A: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Jaime Lannister)
Episode 24: “And Now His Watch Is Ended”
Q&A: Alfie Allen (Theon Greyjoy)
Episode 25: “Kissed by Fire”
Q&A: Maisie Williams (Arya Stark)
Episode 26: “The Climb”
Q&A: Aiden Gillen (Petyr “Littlefinger” Baelish)
Episode 27: “The Bear and the Maiden Fair”
Episode 28: “Second Sons”
Q&A: Gwendoline Christie (Brienne of Tarth)
Episode 29: “The Rains of Castamere”
Q&A: Richard Madden (Robb Stark)
Taking stock of Season Three: Bloggingheads.tv discussion with Alyssa Rosenberg
Episode 30: “Mhysa”

SEASON FOUR
The Top 40 Game of Thrones Characters, Ranked
Season Four Cheat Sheet
Q&A: Pedro Pascal (Prince Oberyn Martell)
Episode 31: “Two Swords”
Q&A: Rory McCann (Sandor Clegane/The Hound)
Episode 32: “The Lion and the Rose”
Episode 33: “Breaker of Chains”
Episode 33 extra: on “that scene”
Q&A: Aiden Gillen (Petyr Baelish/Littlefinger)
Episode 34: “Oathkeeper”
Episode 34 extra: more on “that scene” and its aftermath
Episode 35: “The First of His Name”
Episode 36: “The Laws of Gods and Men”
Episode 37: “Mockingbird”
Episode 38: “The Mountain and the Viper”
Episode 39: “The Watchers on the Wall”
Q&A: Neil Marshall (director, “The Watchers on the Wall,” “Blackwater”)
Episode 40: “The Children”
The Top 10 Greatest Moments from Game of Thrones Season Four

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS – if you haven’t read the books, you can still read this . Crossposted from the spoilery edition at All Leather Must Be Boiled.

* That was tough to watch. Who knew? Maybe months of anticipating what would happen in this episode were enough to recreate a week of wondering what would happen in this episode. By that final scene my pulse was racing, and I had that elevator-dropped-out feeling in my stomach I’d grown familiar with from The Sopranos, Deadwood, The Wire, Battlestar Galactica, and Lost, shows that at one point or another had me convinced that anyone, literally anyone, might not make it to the end of a given episode. Only this time, I knew, and still got that feeling.

* It was the show’s best scene as filmmaking, certainly. Sweeping camera movements to create a sense of immersion and environment, intelligent sound design that highlighted or dropped this or that element to hyperfocus our attention, terrific performances from Sophie Turner and Maisie Williams and Sean Bean. Even little details, like how Joffrey was framed when he ordered the execution, or the way Ser Ilyn Payne just materialized out of nowhere, slapped on his mask, and brought the sword down, delivered.

* You’re primed to think the big question is “Will Ned sacrifice his honor or die?”, not “Will Ned sacrifice his honor and die?” The misdirection goes well beyond “they’ll never kill the main character…will they?” and into how the whole back half of the season/book is constructed.

* Jeez, the Hound is huge. Did you see him holding Ned on the steps when Ned got beaned by the crowd? He towered over Sean Bean.

* And speaking of sound design, the sounds from Drogo’s tent…woof, that was good stuff. I actually think this was a more frightening way to approach it than the scary shadows of the book. It’s actually more of a challenge to make a tent feel like a mouth into hell in broad daylight, but those horrible bellows and screams were more than enough. I wouldn’t have gone in there.

* I’m glad to see Varys’s motives being revealed and treated as sincere. Even Ned seems to get that. Conleth Hill was especially good in that scene, every bit the practiced liar finally letting his guard down and delivering some real talk.

* Michelle Fairley continues to improve as Catelyn. Her anger and frustration with Walder Frey’s pettiness and her tears of joy upon seeing Robb return from battle were her two most human displays in the whole series. Catelyn’s our main character now, for all intents and purposes, and this episode made me a lot more optimistic about that prospect.

* Tyrion’s sleepover party with Bronn and Shae was a blast. You’ve got to hand it to Jerome Flynn and Sibel Kikelli, who took two characters we barely know, including one we just met, sat them alongside a main character played by a beloved actor, and made it feel like yeah, absolutely these three people would stay up into the wee hours drinking and goofing around together. I’m a softie, so I’m happy anytime characters in fiction about how hard the world is manage to respect and befriend one another.

* Just a lot of fine moments sprinkled throughout the whole episode, actually. Sticking Tyrion on the dolly for that shot as he comes to was inspired, just as discombobulating as you’d imagine it was for Tyrion. Maester Aemon comes out of nowhere to reveal that he’s one of the most important people in the world. Jon’s fellow grunts flip out over his sword like the teenage boys they are, while Rast and his fellow raper sit in the corner glowering. It was a really, really good hour of television, good enough to get me too keyed up to sleep properly.

* I’ve long said it’s a mug’s game for people like me to try to speak for viewers who’ve never read the books, but I do wonder what they made of this episode’s two major battles taking place off-screen. Since I’ve been following the production of the show from day one, I was aware that budget limitations constrained them from going too crazy in the battle department, but I did expect that they’d get at least one in before the season was over, and it stood to reason that Tyrion riding into battle at the front of a horde of screaming tribesmen was going to be the one. Instead he got clocked on the head and slept through the battle. While this was certainly true to the material’s penchant for puncturing the glory balloon and letting all the air seep out, it also felt like what it was — a way to save money. Ditto Robb’s victory in the Whispering Wood, despite it being presented in much the same off-screen way it was in the book. Since the show isn’t wedded to the book’s POV-character structure, it’s show itself to be perfectly capable of showing us what was going on when our POVs were elsewhere. Robb Stark’s direwolf-aided sneak attack on Jaime Lannister would be a logical choice in that regard, you’d think. It’s a testament to the filmmakers that this episode felt as epic and portentous as it did even though both battles were presented as a fait accompli.

* And boy, there’s nothing quite like feeling disappointed about the lack of battle scenes to make you question if you’ve truly internalized A Song of Ice and Fire’s anti-war message as much as you’d thought. I think I’m okay with my desire to see a good battle scene despite my growing (and ASoIaF-aided!) pacifism — after all, it is okay to enjoy things in art you’d never enjoy in real life. Certainly someone as apt to freak out over animal cruelty as I am had to come to grips with that fact if I were to watch the show at all. But more than that — and here I credit Maureen Ryan, who’s been something of a killjoy about the show, for the insight — A Song of Ice and Fire is a series about war, and it’s tough to be about war without showing war. I still think the message gets through thanks to all the other horrible killings we’ve seen, but seasons down the line, things like Septon Meribald’s monologue about broken men are going to have less of an impact if we’ve never seen why men might break. Or maybe I just want some exciting and thrilling carnage. Maybe it’s both.

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS – If you haven’t read the books, you can still read this. Crossposted from the spoilery edition at All Leather Must Be Boiled.

* Goodness, but George R.R. Martin sure carved himself a big slice of cake by choosing (?) to handle this episode! He said on his blog that the material with Tyrion and Bronn and Shagga early on was a holdover from a previous episode written by the showrunners that was moved here during editing, but that aside, he still had to handle the massacre of all the Winterfell staff in King’s Landing; Syrio’s standoff and Arya’s escape; Sansa’s capture and attempts to ingratiate herself with/blackmail by the Lannisters; Barristan’s firing; the Dothraki raid on the Lamb People, Dany’s defense of their women, Drogo’s wounding, and the introduction of Mirri Maz Duur; Jon’s insubordination against Thorne, the wight attack, burning his hand while saving the Lord Commander, finding out about Robert and Ned; Tyrion’s arrival at Camp Lannister with the tribesmen and their subsequent arrangement with Tywin; the scenes with Varys and Ned; Catelyn’s rejection by Lysa; some Bran business; and Robb’s entire march to war. That is a lot of ground to cover. I don’t really wanna use the word seamless, but, well, there you have it.

* The bloody business at the beginning was quite effectively staged. After the on-screen gore of the initial sneak attack on unarmed Northmen by the Lannister goons, the rest is all implied, which somehow makes it even worse by making the viewer complicit with the deaths we don’t see — since we don’t see them, only infer them, we’re the ones cutting the throats of Syrio Forel and Septa Mordane. And the scene in which Arya flees from Syrio’s standoff only to stop short as she hears the screams and sees the shadows of the combat raging what had been her home that very morning was somehow the most brutal bit of all. You can’t go home again.

* Good for the show for giving Septa Mordane a moment of bravery. In the book she’s just a foolish old woman with a bug up her ass — you imagine this coming to her as a total shock to her conception of proper behavior, an affront to her sensibilities. Here she seems like someone who knows how the world works, knows what’s happening and what’s about to happen, and faces it anyway. I like this Septa Mordane better!

* I didn’t see this coming: The Stark daughters’ most unpleasant actions during the downfall of their father were both significantly altered. Arya’s killing of the stableboy was changed from a clumsy but still deliberate act to an accident, and Sansa didn’t narc on her father’s plans to send her back to Winterfell. I actually don’t think I have a problem with either of these. In Arya’s case, for both her and the stableboy I think the outcome is pretty much the same. In Sansa’s, I think the audience would have had a really, really hard time not just forgiving her, but even watching her scenes from then on out. (I worried about that before the show premiered.) But moreover, I couldn’t figure out how the timing would have worked out. The way it’s all conveyed in the show, it seems clear that Cersei springs into action the moment Ned tells her he knows about her and Jaime and warns her to leave before Robert returns. Sansa’s snitching would have been not just unnecessary but confusing unless the show took time it probably didn’t have to explain the precise timing. Heck, I just read through the relevant chapters and even in the book I can’t quite understand why the Lannisters saw Sansa spilling the beans as the just-in-the-nick-of-time intervention that saved their collective bacon, what with Ned going directly to Cersei and Littlefinger’s susbequent doublecross.

* Zombies need a pop-cultural season of rest worse than any other monster, so kudos to the show for figuring out a way to still make one unpleasant and uncanny and dangerous. I’m glad he was fast, and I’m glad that he moved a bit like an automaton, a terminator. Jon’s lamp toss was well-played as well.

* You’re going to lose some of the visual impact of the younger characters by aging them up, and that’s certainly true of Robb, who seems young but not a high-school sophomore suddenly placed in charge of a war. But his physical appearance still manages to work in his favor, with actor Richard Madden’s big brown eyes constantly widened with emotion — fear, anger, uncertainty, grief, whatever. He looks like someone who’s new to all this, doing his best but still very very new to it.

* Greatjon’s fingers — great stuff. That was the “What do you mean I’m funny?” of Game of Thrones.

* Every once in a while, the Monty Python-ness of it all hits me in an amusing way. The Greatjon sounds like one of John Cleese’s broader accents, while Shagga looks like Tim the Enchanter. And obviously, the Holy Grail rule of being able to tell who the King is because “he’s the only one who hasn’t got shit all over him” is very much in effect.

* It’s unfortunate that we haven’t seen enough of the Westerosi way of war yet to realize that the depredations of the Dothraki aren’t a mark of their intrinsic savagery, but a mark of everyone’s intrinsic savagery. Generally speaking, that’s a problem the show is going to have throughout due to its decision to sort of half-ass its depiction of Dothraki culture relative to Westerosi culture. These kids of comparisons are just gonna be harder to make when one of the two cultures being compared is more sketched than drawn.

* Michelle Fairley as Catelyn….aaallllllmost won me over in this episode. It had to be her turn for the hardass that did it, I guess. The performance is still too one-note and Catelyn’s still too mother-hen, but being a mother hen by urging your chicks to launch themselves at bigger meaner birds is finally the complicating character trait that TV-Catelyn needed.

* I didn’t doubt Varys’s sincerity about serving the realm because “someone has to.” That really sounds about right.

* I have to admit, I get a kick out of Tywin’s acceptance of the tribesmen. Even though I knew better, I still expected him to reject these savages out of hand, but one of the things that make Tywin such an effective leader is that he’ll act against type if the means are justified by the ends. In this case, as pathetic as he finds Tyrion and loathsome as he probably finds his low-born new friends, he also recognizes effective (and useful) warriors when he sees them, and I don’t doubt that his compliments to their prowess are sincere as well.

* This episode had some of the show’s strongest images so far. Winterfell’s entire flock of ravens being sent out to all the bannerman was beautifully done, and something I wouldn’t have thought to show at all, sort of like how the lighting of the beacons in The Return of the King went from a throwaway event to one of the most talked-about sequences in the whole series of films because Peter Jackson came up with an interesting way to shoot it — well, because he chose to shoot it at all. But I think my favorite image was of Sansa kneeling before the throne, her sleeves and gown pooling down around her like silk chains. She looked sad and little and deflated. And that was a nice little visual pun right at the end, closing an episode called “The Pointy End” by having one of the points of the Iron Throne slowly swallow the screen.

* Rickon’s scene was sad and creepy. It reminded me of Newt at the beginning of Aliens: “It won’t make any difference.”

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS – If you haven’t read the books, you can still read this. Crossposted from the spoilery edition at All Leather Must Be Boiled.

* Charles Dance as Tywin Lannister brings a certain steely intensity to the role, which granted isn’t super-tough when you’re introduced as you butcher a stag. (I’d bust the show’s chops for laying the symbolism on a little thick, but as a Law & Order judge might have said to George R.R. Martin when he kicked things off with a stag and direwolf killing each other, “You opened the door, counselor.”) As far as new scenes go it was a fine one in that it allowed Tywin to advance an alternate system of morality to the one espoused by Ned: Since your house is all that will last, it’s all that matters. It also enabled Nikolaj Coster-Waldau to make Jaime look like a frightened, wide-eyed little boy around dear old dad, which did more to convey the man’s menace than skinning a dead animal did.

* It’s a shame that the “sexposition” technique the show uses to convey backstory while someone gets their tits out has worn out its welcome by now, because Littlefinger’s turn with this technique was its best and most appropriate use so far. If anyone is in a position to coach people on how to lie for a living, it’s Littlefinger. And even if you strip away the extra layers of meaning, his little walk-through of the thought process by which johns delude themselves into think they’re the one who finally showed this whore the time of her life was simply a well-done bit of writing on the subject.

* Moreover, the filmmakers cleverly set up some echoes of American Psycho’s similarly staged threesome (“Play with her arse” is the new “don’t just look at it, eat it”) to convey the idea that Littlefinger is concealing something vicious under his mask of smarm. Littlefinger unnerves me more and more the more I think about him, so the flat beady-eyed way he said he wanted “Oh, everything” got under my skin.

* And on a practical level, I feel like his monologue sold me on the apparent age difference forced by the casting of TV-Petyr and TV-Catelyn-and-Lysa versus how those women were portrayed in the books. I buy Littlefinger as a just-into-puberty kid when he first fell for Catelyn, who by then was an older teen.

* You know, I’m a bit surprised that Robert’s fatal run-in with the boar was kept off screen. I thought they might show it, because I could think of some fun and dramatic ways to stage it. Perhaps it was best to keep it off screen, though, since that’s how most of our major players experienced it.

* Wow, Ser Barristan’s life is really not working out the way he thought it would, is it?

* It occurred to me in thinking about the Dothraki in light of the many complaints about their portrayal here that they and all the other “foreign” (i.e. non-Westerosi) cultures in the series have the disadvantage of archaiac and idiomatically different speech patterns above and beyond any other problems they have. It’s hard to think of anyone from across the Narrow Sea as a normal person when they talk funny, you know? So Khal Drogo’s little “let’s braid each other’s hair and talk about invading Westeros” chat with Daenerys went a long way toward humanizing him. He wasn’t quite speaking regular conversational English (via subtitles), but he was given the opportunity to banter and smile and be warm and even correct his wife’s linguistic muff-up. It reminded me a bit of the scene several episodes ago when Dany’s handmaiden and bodyguard sat around jawing with Jorah. It made them feel like people rather than props.

* I’d imagine that for some people, Drogo’s big declaration of war came off a bit too much like a locker room pep talk, but I bought it. It looked and felt like a guy fanning the flames of his own perfectly understandable anger about someone picking on his special lady in order to psych himself into doing something extravagantly dangerous, dangerous enough to feel commensurate with the underlying anger. (Loved the gratitude on Dany’s face, too.)

* Some funky shooting here and there in this episode, no? I didn’t think that POV shot of Cersei approaching Ned and looking down at him with the sun behind her worked. I was a bit more favorably disposed toward the tight close-ups during the wine merchant scene.

* As everyone I’ve read about this episode has said, the Wall scenes trod familiar territory: Jon is simultaneously arrogant and self-pitying until someone points out how good he really has it. Honestly, Jon simply has less to do during the first book than any of the other main characters, so the filmmakers are up against it if they want to keep showing him to us. That said, man, the Wall is well cast. Thorne, Sam, the Old Bear, and Maester Aemon look and act pretty much exactly how they ought to.

* I said this last week, and if anything it was even truer this week: Seeing Sean Bean hobble around with a cane and stooped shoulders and a pained look on his face amid more vital characters ranging from Renly to Joffrey shouts “This dude’s in serious trouble” a lot louder than simple prose could.

* I wonder: If Ned had gone along with Littlefinger’s suggestion to back Joffrey with an eye toward installing Renly eventually, would Littlefinger still have betrayed him?

* It was nice to see the Hound in action in full regalia, however briefly. Without his menacing origin-story speech to Sansa to go on (in the show it was delivered by Littlefinger instead), I’m not sure that viewers will get the message that the Hound’s the scariest motherfucker in King’s Landing.

* Ned’s long walk toward the Iron Throne, his forces arrayed against Cersei’s, was wonderfully done — it looked for all the world like the making of a stand-off, and then surprise! It’s a massacre.

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS — If you haven’t read the books, you can still read this. Crossposted from the spoilery edition at All Leather Must Be Boiled.

*The entire Tyrion trial sequence, from jail cell to exit, was really well done. It was also perhaps the single most faithful-to-the-book sequence in the series so far. The backs and forths, the mind games, Tyrion’s desperate scramble to stay one mental step ahead of his captors while not looking desperate — that’s all straight from the book. The sequence has a forward momentum all its own, one step after another, one maneuver leading to the next, leading eventually to mortal combat and a man’s death. The filmmakers really let that momentum carry the scene, so that you barely notice the moment when wordplay and medieval legal wrangling slip into the kind of situation where a man gets stabbed through the collarbone and tossed out a trapdoor to oblivion. Now that I think of it, that’s sort of the magic trick of the whole series: Beneath words and codes, blood.

* I think what’s undoing the Dothraki material is scale more than anything else. Their Savage Other-ness would seem a lot less shabby and boilerplate if they weren’t just a couple dozen random half-naked brown people in some tents, but the vast horde of the books, in their city of art and architecture pillaged from a hundred cultures they smashed, with their dozens of old widowed queens presiding over a ritual conducted at the intersection of a mountain and a lake instead of in someone’s barbecue pit. Even the shittiest, most venal or brutal Westerosi — and we’ve met several contenders — takes on a certain grandeur by virtue of living in these massive, beautifully designed castles and keeps, surrounded by disciplined-looking troops by the score. The Dothraki just look like a bunch of topless dolts by comparison, every bit the primitive savages Viserys constantly mocks them as. Intellectually we can see that eating a horse’s heart really isn’t any more savage than the notion of trial by combat, but the visuals are constantly telling us otherwise.

* That said, the material in Vaes Dothrak still worked for me here, on the strength of the performances, especially Harry Lloyd as Viserys. He has arguably the least sympathetic character in the show on his hands — well, him and Joffrey — but in a handful of lines with Ser Jorah Mormont in Dany’s tent, he makes us realize why he’s so awful. He was crushed by the weight of great expectations before he even began to live. At this point he’s realized just as Dany did a couple weeks ago that he’ll never be a true king, but acting as though he will be is all he knows. Worse, it’s all he has.

* That same exchange gives Mormont a line that sums him up pretty neatly. “And yet here you stand,” Viserys spits at him as the knight blocks his king despite professing that loyalty means everything to him. “And yet here I stand,” Mormont replies, throwing the words back in Viserys’s face, revealing that this is a man who feels the pull of honor intensely, but other things even more so. That’s how he gets into trouble.

* As for Emilia Clarke’s Daenerys, Alan Sepinwall gave me a real “in” to her performance when he noted that the heart-eating ritual revealed not just the Dothraki’s love for Dany, but Dany’s love for the Dothraki. That’s when I recognized Dany’s assimilation into the khalasar as being of a piece with any teenager’s induction into a group of weirdoes that allow her to be stronger and freer than her constricting family. Viserys might as well be watching in horror as Dany performs as Janet during “Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me” at a midnight performance of The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

* The metallic clank of Viserys’s head hitting the floor gets my vote for best foley art of the show so far.

* Tonks laid it on a little thick in her debut as the wildling woman Osha, but Stephen Don as the wildlings’ ringleader sold that scene by doing the opposite. His menace was in how matter-of-fact he was about it. He didn’t seem like some bwa-ha-ha villain, but just a desperate guy willing to do what it takes to survive. His icy blue eyes didn’t hurt either.

* Robert punching Cersei–woof, that was nasty, and it really toyed with the audience’s sympathies. After all, we all hate her, we all wanted her to shut her lying mouth too. So they gave us what we wanted, only for us to discover we didn’t want it at all. Moreover it conveyed just how dissolute Robert has become. When a man like that is the best hope for keeping the kingdom together…yikes.

* This episode surprised me with just how much impact on the story the physicality of a performance can have even when you’re already familiar with that story’s basic contours via a medium where performance isn’t a factor. Mark Addy’s watery-eyed, burst-blood-vessel ruddiness and penchant for raising his voice in anger over the least inconvenience or slight, for example, does more to sell King Robert’s physical and moral downfall than prose can, while seeing Sansa sneer at Septa Mordane anchors that character in the kinds of sullen, spoiled teenagers we all know and love in a way that simply reading about her petulance and delusions can’t equal. (In fact, contra Todd Van Der Werff, I find Sansa a lot more palatable here than in the books. Here she’s the kind of kid I understand; there her short-sighted idiocy is so overpowering that it’s difficult to recognize.) And most importantly, the results of Ned’s wounding at the hands of Jaime and his men — the sheen of sweat he exudes on his sickbed, his limp, the way Sean Bean plays him with every move and step an evident labor — demonstrate the way King’s Landing has already beaten and broken him down. In the books, without seeing him, it’s difficult to separate his post-injury weakness from the vital man of the North we’d spent all our time with. Here, the break is obvious, and meaningful.

* Renly’s “Jesus Christ, enough is enough” freakout at Robert over the Good Old Days was another fine addition by the writers, fleshing him out as an alternative to Robert’s sordid macho bluster, to the Lannisters’ cold cunning, and to the Targaryen’s high madness. In his interview with Westeros.org, actor Gethin Anthony said that the key word for his creation of Renly’s character was “enlightened”; in scenes like this it’s easy to see how important that is to Renly’s self-conception.

* This isn’t to sell her short at all, I think she’s been doing good work, but I haven’t seen Maisie Williams as Arya in the revelatory light that many viewers seem to see her — but she played her mounting irritation with Syrio as he whacked her and taunted her until she could take no more beautifully. Chills from “There is only one God — and his name is Death,” too.

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS — If you haven’t read the books, you can still read this. Crossposted from the spoilery edition at All Leather Must Be Boiled.

* It’s a mug’s game for people who’ve read the books to try to figure out what people who haven’t read them think of the show, but I’ll tell you what, this episode made me wish I were in their shoes more than any so far. Not even for the bigger developments necessarily, but for…well, the bit I keep coming back to is Gregor Clegane grabbing his sword and decapitating his own horse with a single blow. What would a tyro make of that, I wonder? I think I’d have done a comical spit-take with the beer I was drinking.

* And this episode was laden with visual hooks of that sort. The Eyrie: its high-fantasy layout, its mad ruler and her breastfed boy, its three-walled sky cells. Theon Greyjoy’s wiener. Renly and Loras’s foreplay-by-way-of-barbering. Tyrion bashing that tribesman’s face in. The enormous dragon skull. Jory’s knife in the eye. In positing it as the best of the series so far, much of the writing I’ve seen about this episode focuses on either the increased action quotient or the fine new scenes added by the writers, as well they should, but these visual moments of “whoa” were what stuck with me as I went to sleep.

* Moreover, both Gregor’s Godfather impression and the whole Eyrie sequence went a long way to rectifying my main complaint about last week’s otherwise excellent episode, the way completely understandable constraints stripped the spectacle from settings like Vaes Dothrak or the Hand’s tourney. Clearly the Eyrie of the books, with its multiple ascending fortresses connected by precarious stairways and winches and leading to a mountaintop stronghold it takes a full day to reach, wasn’t going to work with the time and the budget available to a television show. But unlike Vaes Dothrak, where the art department realized it couldn’t portray an ad hoc assembly of pillaged architecture and artifacts from all over the world but didn’t do anything to compensate and just saddled us (no pun intended) with a bunch of tents, the Eyrie is different but still suitably spectacular, with its towering arches and soaring dome construction and gorgeous weirwood throne. The tournament, meanwhile, still feels way smaller than the Westerosi Super Bowl it ought to be, but having a giant chop his own horse’s head off after losing to a dude with the most ornate armor you’ve ever seen, then duel with his burned brother nearly to the death, goes a long way toward making the event as memorable to viewers as it’s supposed to be to the in-story spectators.

* The new scenes were well worthwhile. Robert and Cersei’s conversation did the necessary work of simply demonstrating how their marriage works and why hasn’t had the other killed yet, but for my money the best of the bunch was Littlefinger and Varys’s duel of words/dick-measuring contest in the throne room. Just a pleasure to watch Aiden Gillen and Conleth Hill be sleazy with an undercurrent of genuine danger.

* After the stagey Dothraki wedding fight, the battle with the hill tribe, the Clegane duel, and the Stark/Lannister massacre went a long way toward reassuring me that the show can handle action properly. It’s worth noting, too, that both of the major battles ended with shots of the survivors standing (or kneeling) amid a pile of bodies. Action’s a bloody, murderous business in this world, or at least it should be, and those shots reinforce the way swordplay is depicted as people swinging huge sharp chunks of metal at each other in the hope that they’ll cut something off of their opponent.

* This episode once again used the show’s penchant for rapid-fire scene transitions to illustrate just how byzantine the court intrigue can be. In back to back scenes, Varys meets with Ned to warn him that the king is in danger and keep him on the trail of the Lannisters; Varys meets with Illyrio to warn him that the Starks and Lannisters are fighting and that Ned will soon discover Jon Arryn’s secret, complicating their ostensible shared goal of overthrowing Robert with the Targaryens at their own pace; Varys meets with Littlefinger to talk shit and maneuver against one another; a few scenes later, Varys sits in the Small Council, encouraging Robert to have the Targaryens murdered. We don’t have any more of a prayer of untangling the Spider’s web than Ned does.

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS — If you haven’t read the books, you can still read this. Crossposted from All Leather Must Be Boiled.

I’m struck once again by how Game of Thrones: The Show is establishing its aesthetic identity by what it does, for want of a better word, “wrong.” Episode Three’s breakneck scene transitions felt off versus what we’re accustomed to from television, yet complimented the byzantine complexity of this world’s alliances and rivalries. This week’s episode was one long violation of “show, don’t tell,” with character after character telling other characters lengthy stories about the past or filling them in on information about the present. Yet the conversations never felt boring or superfluous, because they told us so much not just about their ostensible topics, but about how this world works. The society of the Seven Kingdoms is held together by the stories its people, particularly people in positions of influence and power, tell each other. The victories and defeats of the past, the valor and ignominy of the competing Houses, the traditions that dictate the positions of men relative to women and the highborn relative to the smallfolk and knights relative to men at arms — in the absence of widespread literacy and with political power a precarious held-at-swordpoint thing, these stories are the glue that binds everything. Telling the right story at the right time can move the world in the storyteller’s desired direction.

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS — If you haven’t read the books, you can still read this. Crossposted from the spoilery edition at All Leather Must Be Boiled.

—

* This was my favorite of the three episodes, and before this I preferred the second episode to the first. I could certainly get used to the series getting better and better with each episode.

* The funny thing is that it was the best episode yet not despite the rapid-fire scene-to-scene transitions and abundance of new character introductions, but because of it. The swiftness with which the episode bounced from place to place and character to character and moment to moment could easily have gotten disorienting or obnoxious; instead it felt like the show finding its aesthetic voice as television art — an editing choice that served to underscore the can’t-tell-the-players-without-a-scorecard complexity of the show’s world and the byzantine plots and counterplots, alliances and conspiracies and doublecrosses that drive the narrative. It felt like its own thing rather than an illustrated version of the book, perhaps for the first time.

* In many cases it actually was its own thing, since so many of the scenes were brand-new material invented by the writers. And now I’m starting to understand why so many critics who saw episodes in advance said that the new scenes were probably their favorites: They were the first time I could just sorta sit back, relax, and enjoy the show, rather than comparing each moment to its prose counterpart. For some reason GoT is much, much harder for me to deal with in this regard than my other much-beloved epic-fantasy adaptation, The Lord of the Rings — perhaps because so much more of GoT‘s story arises from intrigue and character development than the grandeur/danger/action/spectacle of LotR, so it demands more attention to detail? But in the new scenes, we move away from the familiar material and swivel around to see existing relationships from a new angle, and the freshness of it makes it much easier to simply enjoy. It helped that the scenes were good, of course, and character-revealing to boot: Benjen ladling on the Stark self-righteousness to Tyrion, who could be the best friend the Watch has; both Robert and Ned hectoring Jaime, demonstrating that others have a hand in constructing his insufferable persona; Robert making himself more or less unbearable, to either the visible dismay or studiously cultivated indifference of his underlings.

* And as with Episode One, there were new characters galore: Renly, Viserys, Littlefinger, Grandmaester Pycelle, Barristan the Bold (never named, unless I’m mistaken), Lancel Lannister, Syrio Forel, Old Nan, Rakharo, Lord Commander Mormont, Maester Aemon, Ser Alliser Thorne (also never named), Yoren, Pyp and Green and all the other members of Jon’s class at the Wall. Yet because we were coming to these newbies through the eyes of characters we already knew, it never took on that stop-and-start, receiving-line feel that Episode One was a bit bogged down by.

* You say “mayster,” I say “meister,” let’s call the whole thing off!

* Arya’s first dancing lesson was a balancing act in itself. For quite some time it was “Swordfighting is exotic! Swordfighting is fun!” Then along comes Ned and his aural flashback, and we’re reminded that swordfighting is fucking awful. It’s gutsy of the show to take a big wish-fulfillment moment like plucky tomboy Arya’s chance to follow her dream and root it back in the nightmarish reality of dead butcher’s boys and green young men shitting themselves after having their ribs cracked by a warhammer.

* The moment when Cat stuck her head out the brothel window and yelled “Ned!” was endearingly goofy, almost Britcommy. A little comic relief stemming from the outlandishness of some of these situations — a bug-up-their-ass lord and lady being reunited in a brothel, for example — could go a long way toward leavening the grimness, ultraviolence, and nudity.

* Impressive effects shots at the Wall. I know it probably shouldn’t, but it gives me hope for future effects-heavy moments.

SPOILERS FOR THE SHOW, NO SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS — If you haven’t read the books, you can still read this. Crossposted from All Leather Must Be Boiled.

—

* Better, I thought.

* The first episode’s biggest problem, it seems in retrospect, wasn’t exposition so much as introductions. I mean, the two go hand in hand to an extent, yeah, but it was simply the need to name each new face that bogged down the dialogue and gave the proceedings an unpolished feel from time to time. Here — with the exception of goggle-eyed mute executioner Sir Ilyn Payne in a scene where stopping everything to tell another character who he was made perfect dramatic sense — that need was gone. Instead of meeting the characters, you’re living with them now, and unsurprisingly the show benefits from familiarity.

* This episode also saw the pilot’s brief flashes of delight blossom into more sustained ones from time to time. Tyrion’s conversation with/interrogation of/lecture to Jon Snow is the strongest example: a self-consciously showy yet controlled performance from Peter Dinklage of a character using his bitterly earned smarts to dismantle another character. I actually laughed out loud in sheer enjoyment, the sort of thing I associate with the great HBO revisionist-genre dramas of yore. Fingers crossed for more of that.

* On the other hand, I think last week I was too easy on Michelle Fairley as Catelyn, if anything. The way the character was rewritten is still the major problem — the fact that she started out as the concerned mama bear makes her post-Bran behavior feel less like the nervous breakdown from which she desperately needed to recover that it was and more like par for the course — but I think there’s still enough wiggle room in there for an actor to do something, anything we wouldn’t see coming. Fairley just alternately tears up and crackles her voice or stiffens up and sounds clipped and posh. Actually, I’m not sure “predictability” is the right rubric here; after all, Sean Bean is playing Ned Stark exactly the way everyone, the show’s creators included, pictured Sean Bean playing Ned Stark ever since the idea first crossed their minds, and he’s a blast to watch. You can see him coming, but beneath that I feel like there’s a big chasm of thought and emotion and conflict. With Fairley’s Catelyn, it’s all on the surface. I was happy to see the savagery of her response to the assassination attempt, it felt like a glimpse of a new, more vital Catelyn, but then bam, back to noble, protective, boring Catelyn, now with Hardy Boys investigation action. Bleh.

* The Dothraki…man, the Dothraki. I wonder if the filmmakers’ idea is that the Dothraki “race” is an assemblage of conquered and assimilated. I’m struggling to come up with any other explanation for the United Colors of Vaes Dothrak casting decision besides laziness. I mean, they have to know that we can see that there’s a bunch of white people and black people and brown people ruled by a Hawaiian — it’s not like they’re trying to sneak it past us. Right?

* The Daenerys/Drogo relationship is not going to get any less problematic for viewers who had a problem with it in the pilot, that’s for sure, whether their objections were based on sexism or Orientalism or both. Even if Dany’s making-the-best-of-a-bad-situation approach is a perfectly realistic way for a young woman sold into a marriage as a form of slavery to deal with her plight, it’s going to be hard for people to get on board with the progression from rape to sex-as-power-play to genuine enjoyment to actual love. In response, for example, USA Today’s Whitney Matheson’s pilot-episode indignation has evolved into condescending sarcasm. As always it bums me out to see people, especially professional-critic people, mistake the depiction of a thing for an endorsement or celebration of that thing, but on the scale of cosmic injustice, “being unnecessarily concerned with potential misogyny/racism in pop culture” doesn’t even register. We’ll all live.

* Moreover, maybe it’s the show’s fault after all. I don’t like to purport to speak for people who haven’t read the books — I’m not a mindreader — but I think Adam Serwer may be right that whatever the nature of the sex/gender (or racial) stuff in the book, and whatever the intentions of the filmmakers, the end result just isn’t getting across to viewers who are new to the story. It’s much tougher for the television show, with its limited screen time and inability to access interior monologues and lengthy ruminations on history and culture, to convey that (say) the Dothraki’s idiosyncracies really aren’t any more or less “civilized” than those of the Westerosi, or that the treatment of women is essentially a war atrocity rather than some grab-your-nuts-and-grunt-like-Tim-Allen, John-Norman-Gor-novel pandering to slavering fanboyism. On HBO itself, shows like The Sopranos and Deadwood have directly addressed the misogyny of their protagonists and the society in which they live without being read by very many people as misogynist themselves. If Game of Thrones, based on a series that upon my current re-reading strikes me as being in large part about misogyny and gender inequality’s detrimental effect on everyone involved, can’t get this across, perhaps it’s on the show, not the viewers. I have enough faith in the strength of the original material to believe that eventually the real point of it all will be hard to miss for everyone who either isn’t dopey or doesn’t have their mind totally made up about the show, but that eventually’s a killer.

* This is less about the show than it is about talking about the show, but I’m really bummed out by Douglas Wolk’s recaps so far. Douglas is one of my favorite critics, because even when he’s writing about something with which I’m totally unfamiliar (this happens frequently with his music criticism) or articulating tastes that diverge dramatically from mine (this happens frequently with his comics criticism), I still feel as though he’s speaking to me in a language I can understand — he roots his writing in clear points of reference within the work being discussed, and thus you can get something out of his criticism even when you disagree with his conclusions or, literally, don’t know what he’s talking about. In both cases, that’s an exceedingly rare gift. And that’s why it’s so disappointing to watch him crack half-hearted jokes and pour snark all over a show that it’s pretty clear he’d be perfectly happy to never watch again, rather than either really engage it for all its faults or simply write about something else. I find myself wondering who the target audience is for this sort of thing: Fans of the show will be turned off by the rimshots in lieu of analysis, while detractors have probably stopped watching and thus have no need to keep reading. I understand that the hit counts must be kept up, but I feel like there’s probably a better way for everyone involved to spend their time and resources. To be fair, it’s not all played for the yuks: The comparison between Joffrey Baratheon and Ziggy Sobotka was fun, and calling Dany and Drogo’s sex life “the quintessence of Orientalist camp” is a perfectly legit critique. But the piece ends with an invitation to finish a dirty limerick rhyming “Targaryen” and “barbarian.” Y’know? And even some of his actual analysis goes astray in really obvious ways: It’s not a function of the fantasy genre’s supposedly inherent elitism that makes Lady’s death more affecting than that of the butcher’s boy, it’s a function of how every human being on earth reacts to the death of animals in fiction.

* Anyway, back to the show. In the books, the Hound comes across instantly as probably the scariest dude going, no matter how bad Sansa’s POV chapter says Sir Ilyn freaks her out. But in the show, we first “meet” him in long shot as he engages in some good-natured ribbing of Tyrion; next he comes across as the slightly less scary mass murderer compared to Sir Ilyn; and even his murder of the butcher’s boy is presented as an awful but all-business act, rather than the act of a guy who kills children and laughs about it. As with Cersei, the Hound got hisself humanized.

* Mark Addy is enjoyably “predictable” in the same way that Sean Bean is: He’s what you thought Robert would be, right down to the flash of ugly, sneering might-makes-right savagery when he mocks Ned for his compunctions about having Daenerys killed.

* I want Iain Glen to read me a bedtime story. So soothing!

* Do you think the final shot is enough of a cliffhanger for people? Do you think people understand what it means?

Alright, fuck it, this is for people who haven’t read the books, or at least haven’t finished reading them.

I realized that with minimal tweaking, the post I wrote for my dedicated A Song of Ice and Fire blog could just as easily appear over here. Since perhaps there are people who haven’t read the whole series but would like to discuss the show over here, that’s exactly what’s happening.

Keep in mind that by “NON-SPOILERY” I mean “this review will spoil nothing that takes place after the events depicted in the pilot.” It will, of course, be SPOILERY for the pilot itself. I’d like this to remain true for the comments, please — stick only to the events of this episode.

So if all you’ve seen or read of all this is what aired last night, here you go!

—–

* Quibbles up front! And yes, they’re pretty much just quibbles.

* I think my biggest problem with the pilot episode, and given how much of that problem arises from changes the filmmakers made to the material from the book we can perhaps extrapolate that to the series in general, is Michelle Fairley’s Catelyn Stark. There’s nothing wrong with her performance, I suppose; she’s just doing what she must with the material, and there’s the rub. The combination of aging all the characters up and changing her motivation in this early part of the story — in the book, she wanted Ned to take the job as the King’s Hand, thinking his increase in power and prestige would make the family much safer than they’d be if he had the stones to turn his friend down — makes Cat’s character a lot less interesting. As a woman in her mid-thirties who was married off during a time of war and basically got right to work bearing her teen husband some heirs, and who then advocates for her husband to take an influential, potentially dangerous gig in the capital rather than risk the equally potentially dangerous dimunition of prestige and power that not taking the job would entail, and who worries after a brood of children none of whom are older than sophomores in high school, Book-Catelyn feels a lot more vital and interesting and difficult to predict, and her plight less familiar, than her middle-aged mama-bear TV-Catelyn counterpart. It’s very early yet, and things may change, but nothing Fairley has been given in the pilot or in any of the previews I’ve seen have enabled her to complicate the character or do much more than play the warm but concerned and stern protective mother and loving wife. She’s a dramatically inert character, far too easy to get a handle on versus pretty much all of the other major players, and that’s no good, because her relationship with her family is the emotional heart of this volume, and we need to find her interesting so that we find that relationship interesting as well.

* The aging-up bothered me more across the board than I thought it would, actually. In re-reading the series, I’ve found that everyone’s relative youth makes their plights so much more powerful. Book-Ned is supposed to be, what, 35? My wife’s 35, and we just had our first child, who’s still negative two weeks old; imagining the two of us with five children, two of whom are teenagers, is one of the book’s most rewarding frissons for me. So too is Book-Bran’s young age—thrown out the window at what, eight? And Book-Robb, who’d be the Lord of Winterfell if Ned takes the job, is what, 15? And so on and so forth. I miss all of that.

* And I miss the subtle message that this medieval lifestyle forces you to do a whole lot of living before you live very long, too. For a long time my mind had a hard time wrapping around the idea of the Targaryen’s as this storied dynasty given that they were only around for 300 years; I was used to Tokien’s millennial timeframes. But when girls are married off the moment they get their first period, and when the cream of your soldiery is 17 years old or so, and when people are considered very, very old at 65, 300 years is an awful long time.

* The critics were right—there was a lot of exposition in this episode. Fewer long stories and explanations of relationships than I anticipated however. For the most part it came in the form of ADR dialogue like “That’s Jaime Lannister, the Queen’s brother!” So it was more clumsy than boring.

* The Dothraki were a bit ad-hoc, no? Perhaps the intention was to avoid any stereotyping of a specific ethnic group, so they cast people from many different ones and combined them. This is what Peter Jackson did with the scary natives in King Kong, if I recall correctly. And in that sense, okay, fine, but when so much care is given to the details of the Westerosi societies, the Dothraki look a bit too much like a casting call for tan-skinned actors.

* If you’re going to call them the White Walkers exclusively, doesn’t that increase your obligation to actually make them white? Don’t get me wrong, they were creepy as heck, but it’s still a bit odd. (In the books, they were mostly called the Others, which I guess the show felt it couldn’t do due to Lost.)

* Finally on the quibble front, Ramin Djawadi’s score was about half-very good (the spooky scenes, the opening credits) and half-“you’re kidding, right?” The “heroic” music when the King’s party enters Winterfell…I was hoping a few of them would be clip-clopping along with coconut shells.

* That said, well done overall.

* Obviously the big critical question raised by nearly everyone who’d seen the pilot early is whether or not newcomers to the material could follow it. It feels weird to be able not to address this central issue, but since I’m not a newcomer, I really can’t. It seemed easy enough to follow to me; yes, there are a lot of characters, but surely serialized television has taught us it’s okay not to have everyone straight by the end of the first episode. But I’m not going to stake my take on the episode on a yay or nay proclamation on this score.

* With that removed from the equation, I can focus more on what I liked best about it: the acting. It’s as though both the filmmakers and the cast realized how hard their task was in this first episode, and went out of their way (Cat excepted) to give everyone little bits of business to separate them out from fantasy cliches. I loved the “shaving Jon, Theon, and Robb” scene with its weird forced intimacy between three very different kinds of “sons” to Eddard Stark and the jokey, casual, but fraught with tension locker-room relationship that’s evolved between the three of them. I loved Daenerys’s dead-eyed stare as she endured first her brother’s inspection and then the scalding water of her bath—these are eyes that have seen too much and prefer to look inward. I loved Viserys’s foppish trot and alarmed exclamation as Drogo rode away without a word. I loved the opening shot of the ill-fated Night’s Watch trio, waiting for the gates to open, already playing the roles they’ve selected—smug, grim, hyper-alert—to help them survive in this world. I loved Tyrion’s unique, booze-seasoned combination of arrogance and self-loathing in his conversation with Jon. I loved Jaime’s “I heard you the first time” to Cersei at the end, already knowing what she wants him to do, trying in vain to put it off, coming to grips with knowing that he’ll do it anyway. There’s enough of all that sort of thing to give me a lot of confidence about the rest of the season. When the exposition and introductions die down, the material will have more room to breathe, and if the cast and crew keep filling the space with these idiosyncratic moments, we’re in good shape.

If you have read all four volumes of A Song of Ice and Fire, I invite you to read my thoughts about last night’s premiere episode over at my ASoIaF blog, All Leather Must Be Boiled. As always, the post contains some spoilers for the books if you haven’t read them, so please beware.

* I feel like this episode had the highest percentage of good-to-strong material yet. Jim’s departure was well staged, right down to Daryl’s unexpected nod of the head. The approach to the CDC was good and creepy, and I appreciated how minimal actual zombie shots were in it — they were more menacing because they were treated as an inevitability, rather than a clear and present danger. Shane’s near-snap may have been played a bit heavily, but the way he got all huffy-puffy was weird enough for that not to matter. And I was particularly struck by Amy’s resurrection, which was, of all things, sensual and beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen zombie fiction treat coming back in that way and I’d love to see more curveballs of that sort.

* But this episode was also a clear illustration of why I probably shouldn’t expect them. Of course Daryl’s the guy who says “I say we kill him now and shoot the dead girl in the head while we’re at it.” Of course the abused wife can’t stop once she starts hitting her dead husband in the head with a pickaxe. Of course we have someone who can’t let go of their dead loved one (cf. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead) and someone else whose inevitable death we have to deal with sooner or later while debating whether we do things like that or not (cf. Zack Snyder’s Dawn of the Dead). Of course the CDC couldn’t stop it, there’s only one guy left there, he’s breaking down, and the grounds are littered with dead soldiers. I mean, I read The Stand too. And of course when the door finally opens up, everyone’s silhouetted in enough white light to recreate that Golden Girls episode where Sophia goes to Heaven but Sal tells her it’s not her time.

* Point is, if there’s a zombie/post-apocalyptic trope or cliché, they’ll hit it, as hard and as dead-center as they can. If they have time to do some stuff differently, great, but it’s not where their bread is buttered. I don’t know if this is due to a lack of imagination on their part, or one of ambition. That is, are the filmmakers just kind of pedestrian, or do they not trust the audience enough to get up the gumption zig where they’re expected to zag? I was glad to see that Curt Purcell used similar terms to talk about the show’s decision to address the pseudo-science behind the outbreak, something the comic has hardly ever done — in fact, Robert Kirkman has said he will never reveal the origin of the plague. The last thing The Walking Dead wants to do is risk alienating the audience with mystery like Lost or Battlestar Galactica did.

* Fortunately, I’m not too disappointed at this point. I said I was going to do this last week, and sure enough, I seem really to have recalibrated my expectations so that The Walking Dead is for me what The Vampire Diaries is for my wife, say. I went into tonight’s episode thinking “Oh boy, I can’t wait to see some good zombie attacks” — not much more or much less than that. I am at least enjoying the show on that level. When the “more” comes along, great! When the “less” comes along, oh well, it’s only The Walking Dead.

SPOILERS AHOY

* Prophetic dream, tough guys with hearts of gold, character doesn’t live to receive birthday gift from other character, least sympathetic and most sympathetic characters bite it first, racists are always vocally racist even in extreme danger when they’re relying on someone of another race, et cetera. No one’s reinventing the wheel here, is what I’m saying.

* That said, fun episode. The CGI blood remains really lackluster, given what Tom Savini did with a wing and a prayer three and a half decades ago, but it’s still always fun to see people get eaten and blown to smithereens in an emotionally resonant fashion. I actually think Jim’s stint as a captive was well-written, well-acted, and well-shot, maybe the first time since the pilot that the show hit the hat trick. And to the show’s credit I didn’t see Amy’s death coming, despite all the birthday rigamarole (and despite having read the comic!).

* I guess what I’m going to do is watch the show like I would a much more self-serious, less sexy Vampire Diaries. It hits some genre buttons I like having hit, and maybe once in a while I’ll get lucky and it’ll do more than that, but that’ll just have to be a pleasant surprise. The Walking Dead: good enough!

* I wonder what the Vegas oddsmakers are laying on “Merle is the Governor” now, god help us all.

SPOILER ALERT

* Much, much better this time around! I mean, seriously, that opening scene with Michael Rooker was almost like it was crafted as a way to say to that terrible character’s many many detractors “On the other hand…” (Yikes, no pun intended!) It put you right there with someone buckling and breaking under the weight of what zombies hath wrought, which is where you want your zombie fiction to put you.

* Similarly, while I understand Sean B.’s reservations about Ed the Wife Beater, I feel like he too was a case study in how to do things done wrong in Episode 2 better here. Sure, his stampede toward misogynistic epithets at the drop of a hat was a bit much, but at least he didn’t do it three or four sentences into his introduction, which is about how long Merle lasted last week before dropping the n-bomb. Instead, we meet him in the throes of a sullen little you’re-not-the-boss-of-me bout of passive aggression around the campfire the night before. Al Swearengen he ain’t, but nor is he Episode 2’s Merle Dixon.

* And I’m with Curt on how much more effective the zombies themselves were in this episode.

* There was also some welcome zagging where I expected things to zig. Lori’s brutally abrupt cut-off of Shane from her and Carl, and the apparent revelation that Shane told her Rick was dead in no uncertain terms–I didn’t see either coming, whereas turning what was (if I recall correctly) an ill-advised one-time thing in the comic into a full blown love affair in the show was more or less where you’d expect the adaptation to deviate if deviate it must. It helped that actor Jon Bernthal gave his all this week, believably portraying an equilibrium-upending emotional swirl of relief that his best friend and partner survived, joy that the woman and child he’s come to care about are reunited with the husband and father they love, guilt over what he’d said and done in Rick’s absence, jealousy of his relationship with Lori, fear that he’ll get found out, regret that he’s lost his ersatz “son,” and on and on.

* The “Hattie McDaniel work” bit was nice, and again, welcome. A smart show could return to the reestablishment of traditional gender roles often and weightily. We’ll see if that’s what we’ve got.

* Merle’s brother name is Daryl? Does he have another brother named Daryl too? Good gravy. Norman Reedus did a pretty good job, though–not unnecessarily belligerent, which is what I was worried about.

* I love Bear McCreary, but the music cues hit things a little hard, I thought. And knocked off 28…Later a bit too heavily too toward the end.

* If, goddess forbid, Christopher Lee dies before he can finish his role as Saruman in The Hobbit, have Jeffrey DeMunn grow his beard out and drop his voice a few octaves and blammo, instant White Wizard.

* I’d been dismissive of the idea that Merle would end up being the TV show’s version of the Governor at some point, but him losing his hand makes me worry, given all that easy eye-for-an-eye (so to speak) potential.

* In a way, I think that this series is a mug’s game. No no, bear with me, I’m not writing it off. It’s just that–well, okay, before it aired the show had three things going for it. 1) It’s based on the most successful, widely acclaimed, and influential horror comic of the past decade, and probably of a few decades before that; 2) It’s on the network that airs Mad Men and Breaking Bad, the two of most widely acclaimed television dramas currently on the air; 3) Less directly but still importantly, it bore the promise of being to its genre what The Sopranos was to post-Coppola/Scorsese mafia dramas, what The Wire was to police procedurals, and what Deadwood was to the Western–an incisive take on a shopworn drama that succeeds partially through genre revisionism, partially through intelligent application of genre, partially through a singular creative vision on the part of its creators, and partially through its ability to use the serial mechanisms of television drama to tell its story and explore its characters in themes at ruminative length.

But here’s the thing about point #3: Length and serialization aside, isn’t that stuff basically true of all the great zombie movies? I mean, the very first canonical zombie movie was itself an act of genre revisionism. George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead stripped zombies of their voodoo/hypnosis origin, added the cannibalism, made them an apocalyptic event, used them to light a fire under pressure-cooker human drama, and injected a healthy dose of social commentary into the proceedings. Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead, Land of the Dead, the Dawn of the Dead remake, 28 Days Later, 28 Weeks Later, even Shaun of the Dead–these all already basically do what you’d want “The Sopranos of zombies” to do. I can think of very very few potentially canonical zombie movies that are simply “zombies run amok amongst basically flat characters, and you like it anyway because the zombie shit is so rad”–Zombi 2, perhaps? Return of the Living Dead, which I haven’t seen and which is probably not a good example because it’s a comedy? So anyway, barring some truly spectacular filmmaking, The Walking Dead suffers from a duplication of services problem with all the zombie material its audience is likely to have seen. After tonight’s episode I’m reasonably sure I’ll see it through to the end of its very short first season, because after all I feel warmly disposed toward zombie stuff, and this seems to be reasonably to quite well done zombie stuff. But it’s probably never going to be an hour of peak-level Romero- or Boyle-type material every week.

Below are links to all my Lost posts. Enjoy!

Episode 5.1: Because You Left/Episode 5.2: The Lie
Episode 5.3: Jughead
Episode 5.4: The Little Prince
Episode 5.5: This Place Is Death
Episode 5.6: 316
Episode 5.7: The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham
Episode 5.8: LaFleur [part one]
LaFleur [part two]
Episode 5.9: Namaste
Lost thoughts extra: “…and the rest”
Episode 5.10: He’s Our You
Lost thoughts extra: Ben time
Episode 5.11: Whatever Happened, Happened
Episode 5.12: Dead Is Dead
Episode 5.13: Some Like It Hoth
Episode 5.14: The Variable
Episode 5.15: Follow the Leader [part one]
Follow the Leader [part two]
Episode 5.16: The Incident
Flashback: The First Five Episodes
Episode 6.1-2: LA X [part one]
LA X [part two]
LA X [part three]
Episode 6.3: What Kate Does
Episode 6.4: The Substitute [part one]
The Subsitute [part two]
Episode 6.5: Lighthouse [part one]
Lighthouse [part two]
Episode 6.6: Sundown
Episode 6.7: Dr. Linus
Episode 6.8: Recon
Episode 6.9: Ab Aeterno
Episode 6.10: The Package
Episode 6.11: Happily Ever After
Episode 6.12: Everybody Loves Hugo
Episode 6.13: The Last Recruit
Episode 6.14: The Candidate
Episode 6.15: Across the Sea
Episode 6.16: What They Died For
Episode 6.17: The End [part one]
The End, bonus thoughts
The End, part two
The End, part three
The End, revisited

Below are links to all my “Lost thoughts” posts for this season.

Episode 5.1: Because You Left/Episode 5.2: The Lie

Episode 5.3: Jughead

Episode 5.4: The Little Prince

Episode 5.5: This Place Is Death

Episode 5.6: 316

Episode 5.7: The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham

Episode 5.8: LaFleur [part one]
LaFleur [part two]

Episode 5.9: Namaste

Lost thoughts extra: “…and the rest”

Episode 5.10: He’s Our You

Lost thoughts extra: Ben time

Episode 5.11: Whatever Happened, Happened

Episode 5.12: Dead Is Dead

Episode 5.13: Some Like It Hoth

Episode 5.14: The Variable

Episode 5.15: Follow the Leader [part one]
Follow the Leader [part two]

Episode 5.16: The Incident

Beginning in mid-January, I started watching The Wire from Season One onward via Netflix and, eventually, TiVo. Obviously I’d heard great things about the show for ages, but the crescendo surrounding the start of the show’s fifth and final season coupled with the realization that I could pop a disc into my computer and watch an episode a day on my lunchbreak finally proved too much for me to resist. Soon after starting, I began emailing my thoughts about the show to sundry friends, but mostly to All Too Flat mastermind Kennyb, who had started plowing through the show a couple months before me, I think.

Now that I’ve finished the series, I’ve compiled all these little (mostly) one-sided dialogues for your enjoyment. Taken together, they provide a running commentary on the show, and an ongoing view into my reaction to it. And since I came to the show with the perspective of someone who loves its main rival for the title of Best Show Ever, The Sopranos, these emails also frequently compare and contrast the two shows.

So, SPOILER WARNING FOR ANYONE WHO HASN’T SEEN EVERY EPISODE OF THE SHOW. I blow plot points left right and center. But if you have seen the whole thing, my hope is that you can get something out of watching my take on the show evolve from episode to episode and season to season until it becomes a more-or-less coherent response to the political and thematic issues addressed by the show and the techniques it uses to address them.

—–

Date: Jan 17 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Justin Aclin
Subject: TV

Best Dramas Ever:
The Sopranos
Twin Peaks
Lost
Battlestar Galactica

Best Comedies Ever:
Monty Python’s Flying Circus
Fawlty Towers
The State
Seinfeld

You could cobble together a top-tier comedy from the best stuff SNL has done over the years, and I’m about five episodes deep into The Wire so the jury is still out on that one, but for now, THE END.

—–

Date: Jan 23 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: Comment

I’m watching an episode of The Wire every day during my lunchbreak. Pretty good so far. Yesterday I finished Season One Episode 8, the one where Omar (who’s awesome) kills Stinkum and they up the bounty on his head to $10,000. I’m enjoying it a lot, though at the moment I don’t see the argument for it being better than The Sopranos.

—–

Date: Jan 30 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: The Wire season one

I just finished it yesterday and will probably start season two on Friday during lunch (today I’ve got no discs from Netflix and tomorrow I’m interviewing Katee “Starbuck” Sackhoff during my lunchbreak). It’s fun to see that (judging from the season’s final scene) the creators quickly realized that Omar is basically the coolest character ever. I really enjoyed it overall and am glad things more or less worked out for the cops. My one quibble is that D’Angelo’s relationship with his Lady Macbeth-esque mother wasn’t well-established enough for it to make sense to me for him to suddenly change his mind at her behest about all the horrendous stuff his uncle made him a party to, which we just spent an entire season establishing he just couldn’t stand, and do a 20-year bid on Avon’s behalf instead of flipping.

What I like about this show is how it sets up the ultimate indications of good policework and being a good person as cooperation, competence, and creativity, three vastly underrated qualities in the real world.

—–

Date: Jan 30 2008
From: Kenneth Bromberg
To: Sean T. Collins
Re: The Wire season one

Ally and I just finished watching Season 4 last week. That problem
with fundamental changes in behavior with no discernible reason
happens a couple of times throughout the show (it’s actually something
Ally and I were discussing the other day about a character in S4).

The second season is good, but not as good as the first, in my
opinion, ‘cuz the bands all broken up at the beginning, and it’s an
entirely different chemistry. Possibly still good, but I watched it
so soon after finishing the first season (as you will be) that it was
hard to get into and enjoy the same way.

—–

Date: Jan 30 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Re: The Wire season one

I was gonna say, it must be tough for the writers to justify getting McNulty out of the marine unit and back with his old team.

—–

Date: Feb 6 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: The best Wu-Tang verse ever?

My top five:

1) Ol’ Dirty Bastard on “Brooklyn Zoo” (the whole song is all one verse for chrissakes)
2) U-God on Raekwon’s “Knuckleheadz”
3) RZA on Ghostface Killah’s “Ghost Deini”
4) Inspectah Deck on Wu-Tang Clan’s “Triumph” (“I bomb atomically” etc.)
5) Inspectah Deck on GZA/Genius’s “Duel of the Iron Mic” (“Building lobbies are graveyards for small-timers/Bitches caught in airports, keys in they vaginas” is the most evocative hip-hop couplet ever written)

You?

Sean

PS: Six eps deep into The Wire Season Two. You’re right, it starts slow, but it’s super satisfying to watch the bullshit politics with Valchek work in their favor! When I realized that was what was gonna happen I laughed out loud. Also, the show is doing a really good job with the dockworker characters–they really could have screwed the pooch on the whole show if those guys weren’t interesting and well-acted. However, I was disappointed with the death of D’Angelo because it felt like an afterthought in that episode. Compare it to deaths of major characters in The Sopranos where you spend the whole episode terrified of what’s going to happen even if you don’t know that it IS going to happen. What’s funny is that his demise is the most Sopranos-esque thing that’s happened on the show, from the loyal relative/underling having second thoughts about the life angle to Stringer screwing his babymama.

—–

Date: Feb 14 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: The Wire and fairness

Okay, so I just finished the second-to-last episode of Season Two, and one thing that I’m really finding about this show is that I can handle murder–it’s people being UNFAIR I can’t stand! I hate the Greek’s FBI mole, I hate that Stringer tried to trick Omar into killing Brother Mouzone, I hate the brass fucking Daniels and McNulty and Prez for political reasons…if you want to sell drugs and rob and steal and kill people for money, by all means. Just be HONEST!

On a related note, please don’t tell me if there is eventually an Omar/Brother Mouzone team-up at some point, because for now I’m enjoying writing the fanfic in my head.

—–

Date: Feb 20 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: Wire update

Okay, I finished Season Two last week, and it definitely ended on a high note. It was weird–right until the last two episodes I felt like “whoa, this season’s almost over? It feels like it barely got started!” I think that was because compared to Avon and Stringer, the Sobotka boys were pretty harmless, so you didn’t feel that the show had generated the same sense of urgency about catching them. But then it flipped to whether or not they were going to get killed, and even though they got a little heavy handed at times (the weird slo-mo after Ziggy killed the greek guy who ran the electronics store), I really felt for Frank and Nick. And I was SUPER-glad Omar wised up to Stringer giving him bad intel about Brother Mouzone, as I think I mentioned.

Now I’m a couple episodes into Season Three, and I can’t help but be a little disappointed that they’re not taking things in just as left-field a direction as dedicating Season Two to the plight of the stevedores union. It’s right back in the Avon/Stringer/corner-dealer/police-politics territory of Season One. I mean, still a good show, but I was hoping for, I dunno, airport workers.

—–

Date: Feb 22 2008
Chat with Justin Aclin

Justin: Lost definitely learned a thing or wo about introducing characters versus Nikki and Paolo last year
me: Yep.
Do you watch The Wire?
Very good at introducing new characters even when they seemingly have NOTHING to do with the characters we already know.
(I’m catching up on Netflix)
Justin: Haven’t watched it yet
me: It’s good.
Justin: So I hear. One of these days

—–

Date: Feb 26 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: About halfway through Season Three of The Wire

I like that Stringer set up the Commission!
Omar is underused. I don’t know if they could use him more without removing some of the mystique, though.
Last night I had a dream that D’Angelo Barksdale and Tasha from Omar’s crew had somehow been brought back to life by the government and were going to work for the cops as informants. But then Tasha was a double agent.
You know what one big difference between this and The Sopranos is? The Sopranos is one of the scariest shows I’ve ever seen. I always kind of spent the episodes in a state of half-terror that something was going to happen. Even when there are gunfights and murders on The Wire, you don’t feel that way. Somehow it’s just a much more straightforward show, if that makes any sense.

—–

Date: Feb 26 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kiel Phegley
Re: Bourne movies

I HAVE heard good things about them, particularly in the formal-filmmaking areas you cite. Although I must admit that I got a little cheesed off when I heard him talking smack about James Bond, considering how good Casino Royale was.

Maybe I’ll Netflix ’em after I get through The Wire–I’m about halfway through season three now, which leaves season four and the current/final season. Do you watch that show?

I find it very engrossing, but I don’t see myself returning to it the way I do The Sopranos, Lost, Twin Peaks, or BSG. Or Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, or Seinfeld, for that matter.

I don’t know why that is, necessarily–perhaps because it’s just less WEIRD than any of those shows, and the weirdness, the stuff that you can’t point to and explain exactly why that was there in the show, is where the most intellectual and emotional excitement is located for me.

But as a police procedural, it’s pretty impossible to beat. And almost all the characters are INSANELY likeable. You wanna hang out with all of them!

—–

Date: Feb 27 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: Wire update

I’m going to blog all these once I’m finished with the series btw.

So I’m up to, like, ep 9 of Season Three.

Poor Prez! Ah, you knew things would end badly the second they took time to make sure we noticed him and McNulty doing anything together.

Thought of the day: Brother Mouzone must be to Wire fans what the Russian is to Sopranos fans.

—–

Date: Feb 27 2008
Chat with Justin Aclin

me: I’m still working through The Wire
addictive!
but mostly because of this one character who I won’t spoil for you
but you’ll know who I’m talking about if you ever watch it
boy, will you ever
Justin: Nice.
I’ll watch it when me and the missus are in a mental state to watch something a little heavier
me: yeah.
although it doesn’t bring me down the way The Sopranos did
when I first watched the first three seasons of The Sopranos in a row, it affected my personality
Justin: wow!
me: yeah, I got angrier easier
I went about in pity for myself
Justin: They never established who gave him that card, did they?
me: no
Justin: It was the Russian.
me: if I had to pinpoint the reason why The Sopranos is better than The Wire, it’s that The Wire would tell you
hahahahaha
actually this morning I thought to myself that a certain Wire character must be the Russian for Wire fans
Justin: The Russian was responsible for all dangling plot threads
He killed the cameraman at the end of the finale
me: hahahahahahaha
brilliant
Justin: Thanks. 🙂
“The further adventures of the Russian” – YouTube gold!
me: w3rd

—–

Date: Feb 29 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: TJ Dietsch
Re: Last night’s Lost

A side note about how anal-retentive I am regarding avoiding spoilers: I close one eye and use one hand to block the very bottom of the screen during the opening of every episode in order not to see who’s guest-starring in the episode, because the dumbasses constantly blow big surprise cameo appearances by putting the actors’ names in the credits at the beginning of the show. In much the same way, I used to block the screen before episodes of The Sopranos when HBO would put up the content-warning screen because I didn’t want to know beforehand if there’d be any violence or not.

This is why I refuse to learn who plays who on The Wire aside from Dominic West and Lance Reddick.

—–

Date: Feb 29 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: I just saw the second-to-last episode of The Wire Season 3

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Mother fucking TEAM-UP!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was everything I’d hoped for and more. Well played, gentlemen. Well fucking played.

HHHHHHHAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Okay, I think I’ve calmed down long enough to point out that Omar and Brother Mouzone’s little joint venture worked the exact same way as a Silver Age superhero crossover. When they first meet, there’s a misunderstanding and they fight, but then they clear things up and work together to take down a common foe. (Now that I think about it, that was the idea behind the movie that the Three Amigos rejected and got fired over.)

I am in heaven.

One more episode to go in this season I guess, but it’s nice to see it following The Sopranos’ pattern of having the biggest stuff happen in the penultimate episode.

My main wish is that everything work out for Dennis the boxer. I’d be really pissed if he ended up getting killed or arrested or his gym gets closed. That would be unfair!

Now that I think about it, this season stands a chance of having everything work out for everyone. I’m sure Daniels’s group will be bummed about Stringer’s death since they don’t get to put him away themselves, but meanwhile Bunny will arrest Avon, Carcetti will go to bat for the free zones, and young up-and-comer Marlowe will end up in charge of the area. Huzzah!

Sean

PS: You must have gotten a kick out of me comparing Brother Mouzone to the Russian the other day.

—–

Date: Mar 1 2008
From: Kenneth Bromberg
To: Sean T. Collins
Re: I just saw the second-to-last episode of The Wire Season 3

> PS: You must have gotten a kick out of me comparing Brother Mouzon to the
> Russian the other day.

It made me laugh a lot.

—–

Date: Mar 5 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: The Wire update

Okay, I’m three episodes deep into Season Four now, but within one episode I pinpointed why I was always vaguely disappointed with Season Three. At first I thought it was because S1 established the ground rules, and then S2 threw them out the window in a thrilling way and introduced a whole new environment with the Sobotkas and the docks and the Greeks, while S3 basically went back to S1 territory. (Albeit with a slight expansion, into Bunny Colvin’s sci-fi alternate reality where America had a semi-sane drug policy. Carcetti’s political stuff was mostly an afterthought and at any rate didn’t feel nearly as far removed from the world of the show at large as, say, the stevedore stuff felt from the Barksdale gang.)

I still think that’s PART of why S3 felt less impressive in the end than the other seasons, but when I saw that they’d be spending a lot of time on the middle-school kids in S4, I realized a different factor was at play: S3 didn’t have a *tragedy.* Season One had D’Angelo and Wallace–basically good people who got caught up in crime and paid for it. Season Two had Frank, Nick, and Ziggy Sobotka–same deal. Season Three didn’t have anything like that. Now, maybe everything will work out for Namond and Dookie and Randy and the rest of those little rascals, but somehow I doubt it–bang, tragedy.

So far I’m enjoying Marlowe as the villain. He and his followers (especially Chris and Snoop, obvs) are creepy and dangerous rather than blustery and dangerous like Avon and Stringer’s outfit. It’s an interesting tonal shift. I await the inevitable Snoop vs. Omar conflagration with bated breath.

There has also been an impressive amount of visible dick in the season thus far. Including an erection, mid-BJ! (Belonging to the Colonel from A Different World, no less.) It’s not TV, it’s HBO.

Finally, Prez Goes to School makes me think of my wife’s job. Hers involves fewer incidents with boxcutters, to be fair.

—–

Date: Mar 6 2008
From: Jim Dougan
To: Sean T. Collins
Subject: Parting Ways

The Wire “not even close” to the Sopranos? Here’s where you and I part ways, sir…in divorce court this is what they call “irreconcilable differences”.

smooch

—–

Date: Mar 6 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Jim Dougan
Re: Parting Ways

Not even close.

—–

Date: Mar 6 2008
From: Jim Dougan
To: Sean T. Collins
Re: Parting Ways

Funny; I feel the same way in the exact opposite direction. I guess we’ll agree to disagree again…

—–

Date: Mar 6 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Jim Dougan
Re: Parting Ways

I get the sense from reading political blogs that preferring The Wire to The Sopranos is a DC/NY thing.

—–

Date: Mar 6 2008
From: Jim Dougan
To: Sean T. Collins
Re: Parting Ways

Funny, that. I’m guessing it’s the primacy of government and other institutional power here, whereas NY is a more war of all against all kind of thing – individuals vs. individuals. It also could be just the familiarity of the setting, a little “hometown pride” thing, conscious or unconscious.

We DCers can identify more closely with the plight of souls futilely (is that a word?) throwing themselves against implacable, corrupt institutions than with individuals carving out their own space, their downfall being their implacable and unchanging personal demons, in a world that they otherwise would be expected to control (or at least guide). I know that years of dealing with the DC city gov’t (not even the Feds) through an interminable home renovation has left me permanently scarred and highly sympathetic to The Wire’s worldview. That is, I can change and become a better person (unlike Tony), but no matter how much I’ve got my shit together personally I will always be at the mercy of an government institution that makes Brazil look attractive (at least there you can bribe people to get shit done.)

And yet, here I am.

—–

Date: Mar 6 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Jim Dougan
Re: Parting Ways

I’m cooking up a massive post on The Wire for when I get through all of it, constructed of these little missives I’m sending to a buddy of mine every once in a while who caught up with the show before I did, and I’m sure I’ll elaborate on this point in that eventual post, but I think you’re right about the primacy of institutional elements in The Wire vs. what I read as a more “open text” approach in The Sopranos, where it’s less tied into the mechanics of how the police/docks/gangs/schools/newspapers work and more about an examination of a bad person.

And yeah, I’m sure Jersey plays the same role for New Yorkers and Long Islanders that Baltimore plays for the Beltway.

—–

Date: Mar 8 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: Powering through The Wire Season Four

..in a desperate and no doubt futile attempt to be able to finish all my TiVo’d Season Five episodes before the inevitable series-finale spoilers become unavoidable online. I’m in the middle of the second-to-last episode now.

Thoughts:

1) The stuff with the kids is fantastic, just as gutsy as the dockworker stuff but probably even better. A storyline like this is definitely what Season Three was missing, both in terms of that tragic feel I was talking about and the out-of-left-field-ness of it. I’m going to be really, really, really upset if (when) something really bad happens to one of them, goddammit.

2) The political blogger Matt Yglesias is a big fan, as are seemingly all political bloggers, and he posted something I caught out of the corner of my eye the other day saying the show’s best stuff was the rise and fall of Stringer Bell. I don’t think so. Not that Stringer wasn’t an interesting character or a good villain or played by a good actor, because all that’s true, but of all the non-politician, non-brass, non-Greek, non-Marlo’s-crew characters, he’s basically the most unapologetically douchebaggish. We never see that he really cared about anyone or anything other than power and himself and getting more power for himself. Compared to Avon or Frank Sobotka (or Tony Soprano or anyone from that show), he never really did anything nice for anyone, or showed that he was upset about doing any of the deceitful and awful things that he did. I guess selling Avon out upset him mildly, but clearly not as bad as selling Stringer out upset Avon, or as bad as finding out what happened to D’Angelo upset Avon, and on and on and on. So when he dies, I really was just thinking “good riddance to this jerk.” Especially since he was killed at the hands of the best character on the show and another really cool villain.

3) I’m really digging well-adjusted, sober, family-man, non-dickhead McNulty. I hope he keeps it up!

4) As the show goes on I continue to feel genuine affection for all the characters who go out of their way to help each other and be competent and cooperative and not stab people in the back. Lester would probably be number one, but also Bunny, Bunk, Kima, Prez, and to a certain extent Daniels and Carcetti. Working together and being nice to people because it’s nice to be nice to people are among my favorite virtues in this world.

And oh yeah, fuck Marlo. The second he had that poor security guard killed because he dared talk back to him, he put a bullseye on his head as far as I’m concerned. Avon would have civilians killed if they really crossed him, but not just because they had the temerity to ask not to be insulted.

—–

Date: Mar 8 2008
From: Kenneth Bromberg
To: Sean T. Collins
Re: Powering through The Wire Season Four

I know I don’t often respond to these messages of yours – don’t think
it’s because I’m not interested in what you have to say, or don’t want
to hold a discussion about it. It’s because I know I’m ahead of you
in the season, but it’s all kind of mashed up in my head. So I don’t
want to inadvertently say something which would ruin the show for you.
This is one of those shows where that would be a real shame.

> And oh yeah, fuck Marlo. The second he had that poor security guard killed
> because he dared talk back to him, he put a bullseye on his head as far as I’m
> concerned. Avon would have civilians killed if they really crossed him, but not
> just because they had the temerity to ask not to be insulted.

Yeah, that was such a tense scene right there, and completely defined
him as a character. And by “character” I obviously mean “douche”

—–

Date: Mar 8 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Re: Powering through The Wire Season Four

Dude, no worries at all–I totally don’t expect any replies. In fact I expect and DEMAND no replies for the exact reasons you cite. Mostly I just hope to entertain you with my inaccurate predictions a la Brother Mouzone = The Russian. 🙂 And like I said I’m compiling all this stuff for a big blog post after I finish the series.

I forgot to put Dennis and Omar on my list of competent, decent people. Well, relatively speaking with Omar.

—–

Date: Mar 9 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Re: Powering through The Wire Season Four

Okay, finished Season Four. The final two episodes were pretty magnificent basically because of what I was saying before about the role the kids played. Not only were all of their stories really moving, but I think casting them as the victims of the unfeeling bureaucracy rather than the cops made that theme hit home emotionally in a way that before that it was really doing primarily mentally. Like, we all know the drug war is a farcical assault on poor people, black people, civil liberties, common sense, and basic human decency, and now the system is rigged so that it really can’t be stopped. We all know that, which makes the point kind of an easy one to make, which is why I think all the political bloggers and mainstream-media critics love the show so much–they don’t even need to work AT ALL to find an ALLEGORY for the dark side of the American dream in this, because that’s what it’s about on a surface level. But making it about the kids and seeing how that rigid approach to fluid problems affects not just the police and the judicial system but also the education system and the political system kind of elevates it into that realm that I like so much, which is that notion that pretty much everything is terrible.

My one slight quibble is that Bodie’s change of heart in a positive direction was really just as sudden as D’Angelo’s change of heart in a negative direction at the end of Season One. Bodie didn’t get enough time this season for that to feel properly built up. Bubbles’s suicide attempt had a little more build-up but it still felt a little undercooked–maybe because he was discovered by Landsman, who didn’t have the history with him that Kima or even McNulty did?

—–

Date: Mar 9 2008
From: Kenneth Bromberg
To: Sean T. Collins
Re: Powering through The Wire Season Four

Ally and I discussed that first bit a lot after we watched the last
couple of episodes. We both felt that sort of character shift was a
very surprising weakness in an otherwise incredibly strong show. And
it was funny, because you could *see* that it was going to happen, and
that the shift was inevitable… but not because of any actual
character development that was going on. Just because it was an
inevitable part of the storyline.

—–

Date: Mar 9 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: Powering through The Wire Season Five

Okay, now I’m three eps deep into Season Five. Rough start if you ask me.

1) After the dock stuff and especially the school/kids stuff, having the latest left turn be into the newspaper world feels pretty self-indulgent. Compared to what happened to Randy, Dukie, Namond, and Michael, I really don’t care that the Sun shuttered its Beijing bureau.

2) You wanna talk about incongruous changes of direction in character, how about McNulty? If the reason he’s drinking and whoring and being a dickhead again is because he’s frustrated that he can’t make big cases, why wasn’t he drinking and whoring and being a dickhead when he was a beat cop for that year? I’m not just complaining because he’s stepping out on Amy Ryan, who by rights should make any Irishman happy as a pig in shit to come home to every night–I’m complaining because it feels like the writers got bored with him being a decent person and reverted to form.

3) And don’t even get me started about him making up a serial killer. I feel about that the way Bunk does. And Lester joining in? Another out-of-character moment. Doesn’t it occur to these two geniuses that even if their plan works, they might end up getting taken off the Marlo Stansfield investigation to work their non-existent serial killer?

4) Speaking of lying douchebags, I’m already sick of the fabulist at the newspaper. They could have at least cast an actor who doesn’t scream “I’m a dick!” just from looking at him. I know, I know, I hate unfair stuff and lying is unfair and that’s why I don’t like this storyline, but I don’t like this storyline.

5) Man OH man does Marlo and his crew of psychopaths have to go. The problem is that I don’t see how the writers WON’T kill Omar in the process of him taking Marlo down, which is pissing me off preemptively.

6) Wouldn’t it have just been easier to leak the shuttering of the investigation into the 22 rowhouse bodies to the press and get the money flowing again that way than making up a goddamn serial killer? Seriously, that’s annoying.

—–

Date: Mar 10 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Re: Powering through The Wire Season Five

Only three more episodes to go in the season. I feel like in this last episode it took a slight turn for the less infuriating, what with Gus finally starting to unravel Scott’s bullshit stories, Omar really going to work on Marlo’s people, and at least some tangible benefits for other cases stemming from Jimmy’s unbelievably cockamamie invent-a-psycho storyline.

But there are still so many problems:

* It’s not just that Jimmy and Lester are being dishonest, which would just be a flaw in the character, it’s that they’re also being stupid, which is OUT of character. As I predicted, their nonsense is keeping Bunk from ACTUALLY pinning a real murder on Marlo Stanfield–I had a feeling that Chris spitting on Michael’s abusive stepdad after he killed was stupid of Chris to do what with DNA and all, and they seem to be setting up that the DNA results, once the ME’s office actually gets to them, will crack the case. So they prevent this from happening. Jimmy also acts stunned that the serial killer he made up in order to get press and resources…is getting press and resources. No shit, sherlock. Now, this would all be mildly tolerable from Jimmy, who’s got a track record of douchebaggery toward anyone who gets in his way–but not Lester! Lester in fact CHEWED JIMMY OUT in Season Three for refusing to get with the program and give up on Stringer. Now he’s doing the exact same thing–worse, in fact! Nothing that’s happening now is any worse than what happened to Lester back then–let alone being exiled to the property unit for over a decade–so a “well, he finally just snapped” defense doesn’t make any sense for this behavior. And worst of all, they both seem oblivious to the fact that this could take down everyone involved–not just them and Sydnor, but Landsman, Daniels, Pearlman, anyone with any oversight who didn’t catch on. Fuck that. The problem isn’t one of good writing about bad people, it’s a problem of bad writing.

* Meanwhile, the newspaper storyline proceeds with everything playing out under the watchful eye of those two supercilious newsroom higher-ups–total caricatured buffoons with no nuance as characters whatsoever. I mean, just compare them to the multifaceted evil brass types like Bill Rawls and Ervin Burrell. I guess Simon really hated his editors? Fair enough, but working out his frustrations regarding the overuse of the word “Dickensian” in this hamfisted way makes for rotten characterization.

* The only storylines I’m really still invested in at this point are Bunk’s, Bubbles’s (every time he shows up it’s like a flashback to a different, better show), Michael & Dukie’s (ditto) and Omar’s. Kima’s too, but she’s not getting enough screentime. I’m mostly sitting around hoping that McNulty and Freamon don’t somehow screw over poor Daniels with their horseshit.

On the plus side, Marlo killing Proposition Joe indicates to me that Marlo will in fact get his comeuppance, because that’s what happens to characters who kill characters like Prop Joe. I also like how Marlo’s now hooked up with the show’s only other pure-dee archvillain, the Greek. And Carver is great any time he shows up, while when Herc stole Marlo’s cell number from Levy’s rolodex I literally cheered. And hey, John Munch cameo! I was wondering if they’d pull that off.

—–

Date: Mar 11 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Re: Powering through The Wire Season Five

Omar deserved better. Not a better death–a better show to die in.

—–

Date: Mar 11 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Re: Powering through The Wire Season Five

Okay, show’s over! Quick thoughts:

1) You just know that the argument in favor of how the show killed off Omar is gonna be “hey, there are no heroes in real life, people just get shot.” That would work if this were No Country for Old Men, but it isn’t. It’s a show where Omar and Brother Mouzone had a superhero team-up and, in the final episode, Son of Omar roams again! Just to be clear, I’m not agreeing with the people who’ve apparently complained all along that Omar is some bullshit fictional character, because he was SOOOOOO well-developed and such a fascinating and (I think) beautiful man. Michael Williams really gave the performance of a lifetime in his final episodes, when he really seems to be losing it over all the people who got killed just for knowing him, staggering around on a limp, voice on the edge of cracking all the time, destroying everything he touches. He was a MAGNIFICENT character, and they punked him to make a point every bit as preachy as having the moron editors voice the complaint that “if you just do a story about society’s ills, you throw in everything but have nothing”–ha ha ha, eat THAT, people who don’t like The Wire–breaking the show’s own established storytelling methods in doing so. Screw that.

2) And again, screw McNulty and Lester behaving not immorally–which is the whole point of the show–but RIDICULOUSLY. OF COURSE this would sink their case against Marlo, OF COURSE it would inspire copycat killings, OF COURSE it would devastate the families of the dead homeless, OF COURSE it would threaten the careers of decent people like Daniels and Ronnie and anyone else anywhere near it who had nothing to do with it. The writers made them idiots all of a sudden. Screw that.

3) And finally, screw the small-beer Sun storyline, which really does seem like Simon getting back at his bosses at the expense of his own show. It’s every bit as incongruous as Beethoven interrupting his 9th Symphony for a spoken-word monologue about how his piano tuner gypped him one time. They didn’t even TRY to make the two evil editors or the careerist bullshit artist reporter sympathetic or even multi-dimensional. Marlo practically comes off better. What’s even more frustrating is that this flat, undercooked storyline and the absurd serial-killer business ate up so much time in an already shortened season that actually interesting characters/storylines like Carcetti, the Season Four kids, and the raw detective work of tapping Marlo’s phones and decoding his code felt like afterthoughts.

4) Should Marlo have been killed? You bet. I swear this isn’t a case of me succumbing to Sopranos-fan-esque “they shoulda whacked him”-itis–Marlo is a really interesting character, but he has NO dimensions, he’s a pure sociopath. Having him reclaim a corner in a business suit tells us nothing about him we didn’t already know. Wanting him dead for all the outrageously heinous things he orchestrated isn’t shortchanging him–it’s the kind of resolution a character like that practically demands. And hey, if they can Sonny Corleone old Stringer Bell at the hands of Batman and the Punisher, there’s no room for a high horse about “people just get away with stuff.”

And oh yeah, Dukie becomes a junkie–yet another out-of-nowhere character reversal. Ridiculous!

—–

Date: Mar 12 2008
From: Sean T. Collins
To: Kenneth Bromberg
Subject: Overall thoughts

Is it an excellent show? Of course it is.

Now that I’m finished with it I’m catching up with some of the critical response to it and am sort of getting a sense for what people are focusing on with it. First up is the “radical” narrative structure where no one episode is “about” anything, they’re all just hour-long units that contain scenes from the ongoing storylines. To be honest I didn’t even notice that! In retrospect I can see how it went further in that direction than really any other show, but I do feel like watching The Sopranos, Battlestar Galactica, Lost, and Twin Peaks (perhaps the last one most of all) primed me for being able to follow a show structured along those lines without any difficulty. Actually, that reminds me: Twin Peaks was just a riff on the way soap operas told stories, so seeing it that way, The Wire isn’t any more innovative in pure structural terms than All My Children. Still, kudos for going there.

And it’s obviously powerful politically and socially. Time and time again I was knocked on my ass by how awful things were for many of these characters–Wallace and his siblings’ apartment, that big bearded stevedore ending up homeless, Randy in the group home, and allllll those scenes of little kids witnessing murders or murder victims. Brutal and, I’m ashamed to say, eye opening.

In formal terms I can think of a grand total of one scene that I though overplayed its hand cinematographically–Ziggy’s shock after killing Double G–and that’s it. It’s a beautiful looking show. It’s a fantastically acted show–I mean, jesus, find a false note among any of the main performances. ANY of them, and there were, like, 60! And while there were some story arcs that are better than others (Seasons Two and Four over Seasons One and Three), with the exception of McNulty & Lester’s absurd meltdown and the wooden Evil Newspapermen in Season Five and those random character turn-arounds I’ve been talking about, it was written with dead-on precision in dialogue and plotting.

All that being said, I think it’s a much more WYSIWYG show than The Sopranos. I don’t think there’s much mystery to The Wire, in terms of what it’s saying about the characters, or their milieu. I just don’t feel like I had to do as much work as a viewer–I don’t think I was challenged to look at myself, for example. As I said, this is why I believe political writers are so fond of The Wire: their issues are tackled dead-on, like a position paper. Provided you dislike the drug war, No Child Left Behind, and Jayson Blair, you’re almost off the hook. Ultimately that’s why The Sopranos is better. The meaning is occulted and the indictment extends to everyone. Moreover I think it took fewer chances and reaped fewer rewards in terms of formal experimentation, editing, cinematography, tonal shifts, humor, satire…Even before the fairly disastrous final season, the notion that it’s not just better than The Sopranos but leaves it in the fucking dust just isn’t supportable to me.

And regarding the problems with the final season, see also this quote from David Simon about how he views audience objections to Season Five:

“Freamon had been told no for a long time, for most of his career. And McNulty? Shit, I think he’ll try anything once. His intellectual vanity has been on display since the first season. But if people didn’t believe it, they didn’t believe it. I’m second-guessing people a little bit, and that’s not fair–every viewer’s entitled to their own opinion. I think what they really didn’t believe was that their favorite characters were behaving in an unethical way. That bothered them. I think TV shows are supposed to deliver on certain things. Omar is supposed to go down in a blaze of glory. McNulty is supposed to either lose and suffer or finally win, but he’s not supposed to walk away from the rigged game and do something that bothers viewers.”

I knew this would be Simon’s defense of the serial killer storyline, but he’s wrong. The problem isn’t that McNulty and Freamon’s behavior is unethical–I mean, good people behaving badly has been the theme of the entire show! And the audience is used to that–it’s a core part of the show’s appeal. What we’re NOT used to is smart characters behaving like total morons all of a sudden, ignoring the obvious consequences of their cockamamie scheme (drawing resources away from other investigations, inspiring copycat killings, risking the careers of their friends like Daniels and Pearlman and Griggs and Sydnor and Carver, and on and on and on). Even if you put aside the fact that Lester sat in the property unit for over a decade without complaining, and that a couple of seasons back he chewed McNulty out for refusing to get with the program and investigate Kintel Williamson instead of Stringer Bell as ordered, it simply wasn’t believable that these two brilliant detectives would do something this ridiculous.

Moreover, Simon can wax superior to Omar going out in a blaze of glory all he wants–but that’s EXACTLY what happened to Stringer Bell! And, to an extent, Frank Sobotka. And Bodie, for crying out loud. And Snoop. And Wallace. And Prop Joe. With the exception of D’Angelo, almost all the major victims had a dramatic build-up to their demise. And as the emergence of Michael as Silver Age Omar shows, even AFTER they kill Omar they can’t resist mythologizing him. Which is fine! Just OWN it, and don’t break your own rules to make a lame point about how shit happens.

SPOILERS, obvs.

1. Paulie saying “You’re a general, T!” to Tony when Tony discovers that Paulie had rescued a painted portrait of Tony with his late horse Pie-Oh-My and had Tony repainted into Napoleon.

2. The scene where a suburban family on a trip into the city gets carjacked by a couple of black guys when pulling out of the parking garage, and their dog runs away chasing the car, and the dad yells “Niggers!” and completely shocks his children, and then we cut to Tony smilingly eying a polaroid of the stolen SUV because it ended up in his crime family’s hands.

3. AJ’s suicide attempt, and Tony rescuing him and telling him “It’s alright, baby. It’s alright.”

4. The ducks leaving the pool.

5. Tony asking Dr. Melfi if anything’s wrong after her rape, and her saying “no.”

6. Adriana begging “please” as she struggles to get away from Silvio when he pulls over in the woods to kill her, and Silvio saying “c’mere, you cunt.”

7. Uncle Junior thinking Larry David and his manager on Curb Your Enthusiasm are he and Bobby Baccala.

8. The glow of the wildfire in the window as Moby’s “When It’s Cold I’d Like to Die” plays in the background as “Anthony Soprano” sits on his hotel bed during his coma hallucination sequence.

9. Artie Bucco.

10. Tony and Christopher repeating their reminiscence about the van full of wine they hijacked from the bikers, to diminishing returns.

11. The psychiatrist, never seen before or since, who tells Carmela to take the children and run, not walk, away from Tony immediately.

12. “University.”

13. Bobby Baccala telling Uncle Junior, who’s just decided not to support Richie Aprile’s bid for power against Tony, “I’m in awe of you.”

14. Meadow Soprano’s dance in her underwear for Finn to Bill Laswell and William S. Burroughs’s “Seven Souls.”

15. Carmela’s reaction when Tony’s Russian mistress Irina calls and says “I’m the woman who used to fuck your husband.”

16. The Father Phil storyline.

17. The Vito Spatafore storyline.

18. The use of the music of Andrea Boccelli during the Furio/Carmela storyline.

19. Johnny Sack discovering his wife Ginny binge eating, and his genuine devastation as he says “You lied to me!”

20. The quick cut from the old man who reacts to the Tony-ordered shoot-up of an old brownstone by saying “I told you that crack is some bad shit!”

21. The quick cut from Patsy Parisi reacting to Tony’s big rousing speech about the need for solidarity in the face of Phil Leotardo and Johnny Sack’s vendetta against Tony B. by saying “Thank you, very much.”

22. The proto-mashup of “The Peter Gunn Theme” and “Every Breath You Take” as the FBI tries to bug Tony’s basement.

23. The Kinks’ “Living on a Thin Line.”

24. Afrika Bambaataa and John Lydon’s “World Destruction.”

25. Van Morrison’s “Glad Tidings.”

26. The Rolling Stones’ “Moonlight Mile.”

27. The word-by-word shots of the passages in the study Dr. Melfi’s reading that explain how sociopaths con their therapists, particularly through their sympathy for babies and animals.

28. Vito Spatafore’s interior monologue countdown to his lunch break as he tries to do an honest day’s work on the farm.

29. The look on Tony B.’s dead face.

30. Adriana throwing up all over the table at the FBI office.

31. Burt Gervasi’s terrier barking as Silvio kills him.

32. The hapless landscaper forced into indentured servitude along with his college-kid son thanks to the war between Paulie Walnuts and Feech LaManna.

33. Idiotic Little Carmine actually making the right decision pretty much every time he makes a decision.

34. The fact that Bobby Baccala and Johnny Sack evolved from bit parts into main characters.

35. Gloria Trillo gasping “Kill me! Kill me!”

36. “You shot me in the foot!” “It happens.”

37. The loser in the band that Chris and Adriana are producing shitting all over the Beatles for being so predictable and boring.

38. Hesh dating African-American women exclusively.

39. Uncle Junior crying when Tony asks him if he ever loved him.

40. Finn falling asleep during the marathon argument with Meadow that ends with him proposing to her.

41. The ghostly silhouette of Livia at the Inn at the Oaks during Tony’s coma-hallucination.

42. The name Kevin Finnerty.

43. Phil Leotardo coming out of the closet in Vito’s hotel room.

44. The look on Feech’s face on the bus back to prison.

45. The waiter who Chris and Paulie murder in the parking lot after stiffing him on the tip.

46. The motorcyclist who gets run over during the hit on Silvio and Patsy.

47. The kids crying during the hit on Bobby.

48. “Daddy, they shot me!”

49. Detective Markasian honking and yelling at the traffic on his way to commit suicide.

50. Detective Markasian putting his badge on just before he commits suicide.

51. Eugene Pontecorvo hanging himself.

52. Vito’s son taking a shit in the shower.

53. Ralph Cifaretto yelling “I did nnnnnot! But so what?”

54. Agent Harris.

55. Bobby Baccala.

56. The homeless woman with the Daily News stuffed up her ass.

57. Tony curbing Coco.

58. Bobby telling the jury foreman that if he were to convict a man like Junior Soprano, he’d want to put a bullet in his head here, here, and here.

59. Matthew Bevilaqua/Drinkwater.

60. Phil Leotardo saying “No more, Butchie. No more.”

61. JT Dolan telling Christopher “You’re in the Mafia.”

62. Johnny and Ginny Sack’s obviously anorexic daughter exasperatedly demanding “Can this family talk about anything but food?”

63. Johnny crying as they drag him back to prison at his daughter’s wedding.

64. Big Pussy asking Tony if it’s alright to sit down before they kill him.

65. Uncle Junior’s mistress sobbing and screaming “Corrado! Corrado!” after he hits her in the face with the pie and walks out on her.

66. Uncle Junior crying after he hits her in the face with the pie and walks out on her.

67. “The Test Dream.”

68. “It’s all a big nothing.”

69. “Everything turns to shit.”

70. Caitlin, Meadow’s depressed freshman-year roommate.

71. Finn looking over and seeing Vito pop up from blowing the security guard.

72. Furio’s rampage in the massage parlor.

73. Kennedy and Heidi.

74. Sil, Bobby, and Tony shadowboxing when the music from Raging Bull starts playing in the restaurant where they’re discussing going to war against Phil.

75. Bobby’s death scene.

76. Paulie killing his mother’s friend.

77. Adriana talking about how nice it is that Matush is sending money back to fund schools for boys in Pakistan.

78. Big Pussy bragging about going down on his Dominican mistress, and Tony asking “Hey Puss–did she really even exist?”

79. Tracee brining Tony baked goods while topless, with a smile full of braces.

80. All the malapropisms, from “my knight in white satin armor” to “irregardless” to “at the precipice of a crossroad” to “prostate with grief” to “mayham.”

81. Janice’s Rolling Stones tattoo.

82. The dream version of Detective Makasian sining “Three Times a Lady” to Annette Benning.

83. Tony beating the shit out of his driver just to show he’s still got it.

84. The Scautino bust-out.

85. Big Pussy running over the cyclist as he attempts to tail another gangster on behalf of his FBI contacts.

86. The dream-fish Big Pussy telling Tony that his fellow fish are asleep.

87. Carmela’s speech to comatose Tony in the hospital.

88. Tony punching through the wall during the big fight with Carmela.

89. “It’s just that ‘remember when’ is the lowest form of conversation.”

90. Dumping the asbestos in the middle of nowhere.

91. Livia smiling as they wheel her away from Tony.

92. The murder of naked Lorraine.

93. Tony having sex with Charmaine Bucco as Artie cheers them on in a dream.

94. The pervasive racism.

95. Tony B. zooming in on Carmela’s ass as he videotapes their pool party.

96. “Cunnilingus and psychiatry brought us to this.”

97. The whole series from “University” onwards.

98. “In the end, you die in your own arms.”

99. The opening credits.

100. The fact that we knew Tony’s captain Ray Curto was wearing a wire for like two seasons, but because he wasn’t a main character no one paid any attention to it and focused on Adriana instead, and then when they finally brought it up again he had a heart attack and died in the FBI agent’s car.

101. Carmela’s philistinism.

102. AJ giving the bike to the hoodlums outside Blanca’s apartment.

103. AJ’s therapist asking him why he’s depressed, and him responding “How could anyone not be?”

104. “I get it! I get it!”

105. The look in Tony’s eyes as he kills Christopher.

106. “Fucking D-girl!” “Hey! I am a vice-president!”

107. Johnny Boy Soprano’s mistress singing “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” to Tony.

108. Ralphie’s “collegiate” look.

109. “You let him hold a gun to your head during sex?” “It’s not like it’s loaded.”

110. Dr. Elliot Kupferberg.

111. “Fuck Ben Kingsley! Danny Baldwin just took him to acting school!”

112. Cosette.

113. Paulie asking Big Pussy in his dream “When my time comes, will I stand up?”

114. The handheld camera during “Chasing It.”

115. The rocking of the boat during Tony and Paulie’s fishing trip.

116. The Tindersticks’ “Tiny Tears.”

117. The episode that used a song from Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works Vol. II over the closing credits.

118. Ralphie running across the yard after his son gets shot in the head with the arrow.

119. Chris explaining his tardiness to a meeting: “Sorry, T–the highway was jammed with broken heroes on a last-chance power drive.”

120. The fact that Frank Vincent was on the show.

121. Melfi reverse-Godfathering Tony by closing the door on him.

122. Bobby refusing to defrost his late wife’s last meal.

123. Tony goading Janice to break her anger-management routine just because.

124. Ralphie’s Gladiator obsession.

125. The art direction for the promo materials from Season Two onwards.

126. Calling the last episode “Made in America.”

127. Playing that commercial with Abe Lincoln and the talking beaver in the mental ward where AJ is institutionalized.

128. Hesh’s description of Livia: “Between her brain and her mouth, there was no interlocutor.”

129. Tony Soprano.

130. “Poor you.”

131. Butchie accidentally wandering from Little Italy into Chinatown as he wraps up his phonecall to end the war.

132. Agent Harris: “We’re gonna win this thing!”

133. Phil gootchie-gootchie-gooing his twin grandbabies at the gas station.

134. The guy who pukes when the SUV rolls over Phil’s head.

135. Meadow telling Tony how the government and FBI discriminate against Italian Americans, and Tony replying, “Well…”

136. Meadow parallel parking.

137. The man in the Members Only jacket.

138. “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

139. “Don’t stop—”

140. Cut to black.