Let’s talk about vomit. Lots of vomit. Gushes of it, gouts of it, firehose torrents of blood, bile, and bad oysters, firing from every available orifice in Rebecca Hall’s and Charlie Hunnam’s bodies. Hurling, heaving, gurgling, spraying, splattering, oozing all over the tablecloth and the floor, forcing poor Lizzie Borden to nimbly dodge the puddles as she belatedly leaves this chamber of bodily-fluid horrors to seek help.

But scatology can serve a satirical purpose. Just moments before they began exploding out of both ends, Edward and Abby Borden were chuckling gleefully about Mrs. Borden’s slaughter of Lizzie’s beloved doves earlier that day. Her mother had the temerity to blame Lizzie for forcing her hand; her father screamed at her to shut the fuck up about her stupid birds and leave him the fuck alone. 

Under their wealth and their obsession with surface-level propriety, their behavior is repulsive. Should their physical presence be any different?

The truly spectacular sight of the Bordens geysering forth like a Monty Python sketch depicts the Bordens as simultaneously disgusting and pitiable, almost infantile. Whereas Lizzie’s severe menstrual bleeding represents her imprisonment by her gender, Abby and Edward’s vomit and diarrhea is just…them. It’s what they are. It’s who they are. If you are what you eat, it stands to reason you are also what you excrete.

I reviewed the second episode of Monster: The Lizzie Borden Story for Decider.

“When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.” This newspaperman’s maxim from The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance might well be the mission statement for Netflix‘s Monster, Ian Brennan and Ryan Murphy’s anthology show about America’s most infamous murderers. Its stories of Jeffrey Dahmer, Lyle and Erik Menendez, Ed Gein, and now Lizzie Borden use the facts of these cases as a skeleton, sure. But as the umbrella title indicates, the show is more concerned with the creation of monsters —  both how these figures came to see themselves as monstrous and commit monstrous acts, and how they filled the role of monster in popular culture, reflecting the interests and prejudices of the culture that gave birth to them.

The facts are important. The legend is the story. Why else open the show with an old-fashioned iris out on a stage curtain, which parts to reveal a toy piano playing the “Lizzie Borden took an axe” schoolyard rhyme all on its own? The story of Lizzie Borden you are about to see is just that: a story about both a person and the idea of that person, one that calls attention to the artifice of its own construction. It’s like Velvet Goldmine for murderesses.

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

Twin Peaks Season 3 spreads the heartbreak of Laura’s loss all across the country, in one form or another. But at the end of the main action of the episode, the Log Lady calls Deputy Sheriff Hawk again. Hinting that the secrets of “the dream of time and space … that which is and is not” will soon come out, she speaks of a different force. 

“The Truman brothers are true men,” she tells Hawk. “They are your brothers. And the others, the good ones who have been with you. Now the circle is almost complete.” She also insists “Laura is the one” in the same episode where Gordon Cole sees her materialize in front of him. That can’t be a coincidence. Heartbreak is everywhere, but there are still people out there trying to mend what was broken, hanging on to hope as the fabric of reality frays. 

I reviewed the tenth episode of Twin Peaks Season 3 for Pop Heist. (Gift link!)

No, if Lanterns is to be saved it’s by John Stewart coming into his own. I want to see him reject the superhero-as-supervillain origin story assigned to him first by his parents, then by Lianna, then by Hal. If he’s going to be a Green Lantern, let it be on his own terms. Even if they replace him in the end — and if you’ve seen Superman, you have some hints as to whether they do or don’t — isn’t that better than just being a good little soldier all your life? As John tells Lianna, both he and Hal chased that ring so long, him to take it and Hal to keep it, that they lost sight of why they wanted it in the first place. John is the one who gets his sight back. 

I reviewed a complex episode of Lanterns with wild highs and lows for Decider.

In addition to interrogating Saddam, John is eventually brought in to share his findings with President Bush. How did it feel to be in those two rooms with those two people?

NIXON I’m one of the few people who actually shook the hand of both President George W. Bush and President Saddam Hussein. If I had one that I’d rather hang out with, it would probably be Saddam Hussein. I came away liking him a lot more than Bush.

But I found there were a lot of similarities between them. They’re surrounded by an inner circle that basically isolates them from the real world, so much so that they really are out of touch with reality. A week before the American Army’s going to end his reign, Saddam is working on a novel and asking Tariq Aziz, “Hey, let me know what you think of this draft — I think it’s pretty good.”

KINNAMAN Saddam thought 9/11 was going to bring the U.S. and Iraq closer because it was clear they had a common enemy. To hear that from Saddam is the biggest indictment of all the motivations of going to war with Iraq, because it just shows how 100 percent wrong those reasons were, especially in motivating the American people on a false premise. It’s terrifying how the men in these positions have such a shallow understanding of what’s actually going on in the regions of the world where they’re wielding their power.

[Smiling] Fortunately, we now have leadership that is so much more mature and thoughtful and are really just thinking of the common good of the entirety of the human race. I’m so glad we’ve evolved as a society, and that we’re finally past these petty tyrants.

I interviewed actor Joel Kinnaman and former CIA analyst John Nixon about High Value Target: The Hunt for Saddam, Kinnaman’s new series dramatizing Nixon’s identification and interrogation of Saddam Hussein following his capture by American forces, for the New York Times. (Gift link!)

What’s the funniest line from the season finale — and it’s clearly a season finale, not a series finale, at least not if Ryan Murphy and Bret Easton Ellis get what they want — of FX’s The Shards?

Is it Liz Schaffer wailing “There’s a serial killer targeting the glamorous!”

Is it Robert Mallory patronizingly telling Bret, “You’re struggling with your sexuality, and from what I’ve read — Death in Venice, among other things — that’s some really heavy shit.”

Is it Terry Schaffer dismissing his ambitious assistant Steven Reinhardt by saying, “You look like a prostitute businesswoman on a spaceship.”

Or is it Thom Wright, on his knees in the middle of Hamburger Hamlet following a disastrous attempt to propose to his (ex-)girlfriend Susan, watching her get dragged away by her friend Debbie, plaintively calling after them: “Think about it?”

Of course, if your sense of humor leans in another direction, you can pick just about any bit of Bret Easton Ellis, Boy Detective’s molasses-thick hard-boiled narration: “One of the most intimate ways to kill someone is to push them from a great height.” “That fateful night, before the most terrifying event of her life occurred, Susan went to bed feeling what she hadn’t felt for months: peace.” 

Or my personal favorite, the troll to end all trolls: Capping off the entire season with a shot of the entire cast in a police station interrogation room, with the cops announcing someone in that room is a killer, accompanied by Bret saying “And that’s when things really got crazy.” These crazy sons of bitches really went and did the This is just the beginning thing at the end of the season. You have to admire the chutzpah!

I reviewed the season finale of The Shards for Decider.

When Eddie learns that Freddy has betrayed the family, their mother Sabrina begs him not to kill his own brother. Eddie honors his mother’s wishes…but there are some fates worse than death. Back in Season 1, Freddy said that Eddie was the right man to run the family’s drug empire, since he possesses a killer instinct honed in the army that Freddy himself lacks. This guy was simply not cut out to dismember a beloved friend with a chainsaw. You can practically see his mind snap in real time.

It all comes back to Mr. Johnston’s repeated references to the orb and the scepter wielded by kings, representing forgiveness and judgement. Eddie has figured out how to balance the two, at least in the very twisted way that both kings and gangsters wield their power — and the whole point of The Gentlemen is that aristocrats and criminals are one and the same. Long live the king. 

I did a quick little SEO “Ending Explained” piece on The Gentlemen Season 2. I always have fun writing these.

Disease remains a constant presence in this season of Twin Peaks. So do money troubles: The Detectives Fusco commiserate over how expensive it is to get a taillight fixed, even taking the time to check out the replacement before arresting Ike the Spike. Andy and Lucy’s sweet “Gift of the Magi” routine is about a chair that costs under $200 with shipping. But people can’t afford to be loose with their money. Just look at the Hornes: Sylvia is shouting for a home aide when Johnny has his accident. Home aides are not cheap, even for the Hornes. Years later, The Pitt would earn well-deserved praise for its depiction of the ugly, crash-strewn intersection of money, health, and happiness in America. Mark Frost and David Lynch knew it too.

I reviewed episode 9 of Twin Peaks Season 3 for Pop Heist. (Gift link!)

For the second season in a row, The Gentlemen ends on Eddie at his most ruthless and remorseless — a far cry from the man who kept himself up thinking of that poor accountant. Guy Ritchie and Matthew Read’s script, once again ably directed by Eran Creevy, could have concluded the season on any number of notes, from triumph to tragedy; they chose “this guy is a cold-blooded bastard,” and for that they should be commended.

You can extend that commendation up and down the season, a darker, richer, more spectacular outing than the already strong Season 1. It’s still a fun British gangster romp, but it’s got way more in its head than some bloke’s bullets. The Gentlemen was always a good show. Now, it’s A Good Show.

I reviewed the season finale of The Gentlemen for Decider.

This episode of Netflix’s The Gentlemen is wall-to-wall action — a crescendo of dead-of-night tension and suspense that ends in a river of blood. Naturally, I’m going to start by talking about an intimate character moment.

Early on in the episode, before the agents of…whoever engage the mostly civilian members of the Horniman family and household in a deadly game of cat and mouse, Lady Sabrina’s son-in-law Nanny appears to pull rank on Geoffrey in a rather snobbish way. Either not detecting how close Geoff is to the family or not particularly caring, he shoos him out of the house back to his own cottage so that the real family members can relax on their own. It’s an uncharacteristically ugly moment from Nanny, whose primary characteristic besides his impeccable manners is being a big sweetheart.

(Nanny’s race does not appear to be something the show is going to bring up, and that’s probably for the best. The Gentlemen has been so good about its grasp always exceeding its reach, not the other way around.)

But later on, I think we find out the real reason why he gave Geoff the high hat. Left alone with the gamekeeper during the siege — Nanny, an old army buddy of Eddie’s, can more than hold his own in a firefight as it turns out —  Nanny tells Geoff he knows he’s his baby’s real grandfather. His only question is why he never told him, when he kept giving him opportunities to do so. No one ever says as much, but it seems Nanny excluded Geoff because he felt excluded by Geoff.

A deft bit of character work between two supporting players I never expected to have much of a moment together, in the middle of 40 minutes of action. That’s how it’s done.

I reviewed episode 7 of The Gentlemen Season 2 for Decider.

Last week’s episode of Lanterns went way off course, but this week’s is back on track. No heavy-handed flashbacks that needlessly complicate the relationship between Hal Jordan and John Stewart. No awkwardly shoehorning vital points about race in America into a level of emotional abuse that would normally qualify as a supervillain origin story, not a superhero’s. (An early scene in this episode in which John is forced to smile his way through a nasty interaction with a couple of rednecks at a gun shop makes a similar point more effectively than turning his mother into Mommie Dearest.)

I reviewed this week’s Lanterns for Decider.

Whoever is responsible, they at least wait until after the wedding to do their killing. The gala itself is beautiful, with everyone dressed to the nines: Benedetta Porcaroli’s sheer party dress literally made my jaw drop, and Joely Richardson, Jasmine Blackborow, and Kaya Scodelario all look sensational as well. (By now you know full well how good Theo James looks all dressed up.) 

I reviewed episode six of The Gentlemen Season 2 for Decider.

Now this is an hour of television that’s successful by any metric. Given the marvelous title “A Suburban A-Road on the Outskirts of Basingstoke” by the location where Lord Edward Horniman finds his salvation — more on that in a moment — this installment of Netflix’s The Gentlemen is the show’s best, I think. 

I reviewed episode 5 of The Gentlemen Season 2 for Decider.

There are two things really worth emphasizing in this episode. The first is how nice it looks. Taking over from creator and co-writer Guy Ritchie, director Eran Creevy displays an eye for striking color and framing. My favorite sequence in the whole episode is just Lord Hawthorne (god rest ye, merry gentleman) in ceremonial red, literally hiding his face in the wardrobe as he calls her with his crisis of conscience, while Eddie and Joe verbally spar in silhouette in a hallway lit in cold blue. Elsewhere, Susie and Bella converse in a crimson-lit multi-mirrored room that wouldn’t look out of place in Suspiria or The Neon Demon.

I reviewed episode 4 of The Gentlemen Season 2 for Decider.

On the opposite side of the ledger from Troy is Juliette. The show has smartly selected a storyline for her final act, one that will push her two most compelling characteristics to their limits. By taking on Silo 1, she has gone from criminal to dissident to rebel to revolutionary, the apotheosis of her endearingly defiant spirit. The question of how to pull it off — how to get there undetected, how to take down its defenses, how to take out its leadership caste, how to shut down the Safeguards for good — will meanwhile push her problem-solving skills to their absolute limit. This is exactly what you want from this character.

And this episode, a series high point, is exactly what I wanted from this show. The savagery that starts the episode is hard to watch but absolutely necessary, a reminder that the exciting sci-fi dystopia is built on a mountain of corpses, with a billionaire technocracy allied with a radical and egomaniacal right-wing politician deciding who lives and who dies. This is a very real story playing out across our all too real world at this very moment.

I reviewed the season finale of Silo for Decider.

“Once you stop taking responsibility for your own actions, it’s very hard to go back.” Lord Eddie is talking to Susie Glass about his time in the military when he drops this little nugget. She interprets it as a shot at her willingness to follow her daddy Bobby’s orders. I interpret it as an indictment of this charming man, issued by the man himself. He’s decided he has no choice but to do the bad things he does, which means he can choose to do anything he wants.

I reviewed episode three of The Gentlemen season two for Decider.

I’m surprised how much mileage actor Theo James has been able to get out of this core contradiction. He keeps Eddie suspended somewhere in the grey zone between “likeable guy,” “decent person,” and “good character,” which is right where you want the handsome, slightly amoral antihero of your comedic crime drama to live.

I reviewed episode 2 of The Gentlemen Season 2 for Decider.

Genre entertainment of modest ambition that overdelivers on the execution: They don’t make ’em like Netflix’s The Gentlemen anymore. Not often, anyway. Its effervescently violent story of a posh duke turned weed kingpin — it’s Downton Abbey meets Breaking Bad — is played mostly for laughs, but with a welcome hard edge when it needs one. What really distinguishes it is the screwball-level zip of the wittily profane dialogue from creator Guy Ritchie and showrunner Matthew Read, which Ritchie’s surprisingly restrained direction helps its fine cast deliver in style. The thing moves like some earl’s Alfa Romeo.

I’m covering The Gentlemen Season 2 for Decider, starting with my review of the season premiere. Woo!

Well, that was a slapper of an episode, wasn’t it? With only one episode remaining now, FX’s The Shards has established some pretty serious candidates for the secret identity of the serial killer called the Trawler, while also digging deep into the way the characters’ extravagant wealth and privilege is a sort of rot that eats away at family, friendship, business, and romance with equal voraciousness. And it remains fun as hell to watch.

I reviewed this week’s The Shards for Decider.

Under any other circumstances heaping superlatives on an episode of television like I’m about to do would be overdoing it. With “Part 8,” I don’t know if I’ll even hit the floor of where those superlatives should be. This is a masterpiece, one of one, unparalleled on television before or since. David Lynch and Mark Frost constructed a cathedral for Hell. 

I reviewed episode 8 of Twin Peaks Season 3 for Pop Heist. It’s the best television episode of all time. (Gift link!)