Doctor Who - "The Snowmen" - Review

You know what the best part of Christmas is? It’s not the gifts or spending time with family or that chubby man who delivers presents. It’s the freakin’ Doctor Who Christmas Special, which, at least for me, has become a tradition that I significantly look forward to.  

Dr. Who is an interesting show to discuss. There are certainly better shows. Even more consistent ones. However, Dr. Who gets me emotionally invested in it like few shows do. It never forgets its characters who it so delicately and intelligently crafts. It can tell sweeping, grand, crazy stories but it never forgets to tie it back to more intimate, personal moments. This has never been more apparent than in last nights episode “The Snowmen”.

The series was left with the difficult task of picking up the story after the (unsurprisingly) emotionally devastating exit of the Ponds. And though we knew someone would come along and shake the Doctor out of his stupor (played to sad and pouty perfection by Smith), it’s still a delight to see the show go through the typical initial Doctor-Companion meet up. It’s a familiar dance that the series continually nails by hitting all the right notes (the smile-inducing banter leads to some great scenes, my favorite being the kiss and the scene on the rootop). Jenna Louise Coleman returns in top form as Clara Oswin Oswald (initially seen in “Asylum of the Daleks”), barmaid by day, governess by night, who’s discovery of snowmen appearing seemingly out of nowhere creates a desire to seek help of the newly befriended Doctor. 

Oswald is not the only familiar face though. After being generally awesome in “A Good Man Goes to War”, Madame Vastra and her “human companion” Jenny return. Along with the Sontaran Strax (who provides some wonderful comic relief), they have been helping isolate the Doctor as part of his new emo phase in the wake of losing the Ponds. But Clara Manic Pixie Dream Girls her way into the Doctor’s heart, and inspires him to investigate the strange snowmen occurrences.

The Doctor continues to be deeply affected by Clara who he sees (I would say rightfully so) a kindred spirit in, and banters with beautifully.  He even asks her to join him traveling the universe before she is killed by an ice humanoid monster (because that’s just the sort of show Dr. Who is, go figure). The Doctor tries to “make a bargain with the universe” to save the world to try to save her life. Unfortunately though he stops the evil snowmen, Clara still dies. But wait! “I like making soufflés,” Clara casually says to the Doctor and makes him realize that he’s met Clara before. But that’s not possible! She couldn’t have died twice?! Sometimes, apparently, the universe does make bargains. Whatever that exactly means, I’m sure Moffat will be happy to explain in a confusing fashion over the course of the remainder of the season. Whatever that might entail, I’m thoroughly happy to have some new blood to liven up the series, to keep the Doctor on his toes, and to lead to returns to classic Doctor Who moments (e.g. “It’s smaller on the outside” “Ok, that's a first”).

Stray Observations:

-There was obviously much more going on in the episode, but I feel as if the Clara-Doctor story of it was the most important and engaging aspect. Dr. Simeon seemed a bit too one dimensional, even though the snowmen monsters were rather cool.
-As contrived as the idea of a new companion coming into the Doctors life is, 1) its forgivable due to the nature of this series and 2) Jenna Louise Coleman and Matt Smith have excellent chemistry together.

-“Those were the days” – Smith plays sad so well. Can’t wait til he makes a new emotional connection just for the writers to break his heart. That’s what Dr. Who does best.

-The opening scene where Dr. Simeon feeds people to the snowmen was a memorable opener, and was a great introduction to a really good monster of the week.

-Whenever Simeon kept saying “Winter is coming”, all I could think of was Game of Thrones, which practically has that phrase trademarked.

-“What do you do when you discover something new?” “Throw a grenade”. One of many hilarious Strax-isms I wrote down     

-The scene where Clara can only say one word to answer Madama Vastra’s questions is the type of scene that might be cliched on another series, but Doctor Who makes incredibly fun because it does it with such conviction and charisma.

-Sir Ian fucking McKellan as the snow monster controlling poor Dr. Simeon. Great casting.

-Madame Vastra and Jenny are the inspiration for Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson with the sexual implications cut out. Absolutely brilliant.

-“Takes one to snow one”. Smith also plays corny, lame really well. Dude’s an underrated actor.

-The Doctor mistaking Clara pointing out an oncoming threat for a compliment of his bowtie: “It’s pretty cool” “I know right? It’s pretty cooler?” – Great callback. Very funny scene.

-“You missed this, didn’t you?” “Shut up”

-“Stay here” and Clara doesn’t because what kind of companion would she be if she did. 

-Then kisses the Doctor, but he seems oddly cool about it. What’s River going to think about that?

-“You’re nearly a foot taller than me” – That whole scene where Clara asks why he brought the umbrella was the sort of emotional, character stuff that this show does brilliantly.

Grade: B+

A really great episode, but as has been often the case of the Moffat era, it's a little bit too overstuffed for its own good.

"Looper" - Film Review

I’ve been obsessed with time travel ever since I saw the Back to the Future movies when I was younger. And I have a freakish level of knowledge on the subject matter for someone who’s really shitty at physics and math. I go out of my way to consume stories that involve the tricky narrative device (Anyone remember Timeline? No? Good, cause it was pretty bad). Which is to say before getting into this review, you should know that I’m totally biased in Looper’s favor despite its actual quality.  That withstanding, I think even without its high minded sci-fi and time travel trappings, it’s actually a really good movie.

Looper has a surprisingly complicated plot that takes a lot of liberties regarding what is possible within the confines of time travel. Due to its more open ended views of what you can and can’t do with time travel, it allows for the narrative to get away with some interesting choices. Which in turn allows for, like the best sci-fi films, some interesting ethical and philosophical quandaries. Joseph Gordon Levitt, prosthetic-ed up to look like a younger Bruce Willis, plays Joe Simmons. In the not so distant future (2044), Simmons works for a criminal organization that’s powerful in the even further future (2074) where time travel exists, but is illegal.  He’s been hired out by the organization to kill people they send back in time. However, when he finds himself forced to kill his future self, things go awry and then the film really begins to pick up; mad dashing energetically through one morally grey, stylish, and action packed sequence after another. 

Though Looper is set in the not too distant future, not much has change. Minus a few futuristic technological quirks (notably hover bikes), the film is essentially grounded in a world strikingly similar to our own. It’s a bit grittier and darker, and it certainly feels more sinister, but though the computers and security systems are sleeker, and touch based, people’s lives haven’t drastically changed. Much like the brilliant sci-fi film Children of Men, Looper allows us to pick up on just how much has changed through tiny background details. It doesn’t always beg us to notice just how flippantly cool it is trying to be with its depiction of the not too distant future, and that’s all for the better. The world feels lived in without trying so hard to get us to buy that it’s totally realistic. I got a real Blade Runner vibe from a number of shots of the city. There was a distilled, distant quality to many shots in the film that allowed the sets and scenery to speak for themselves. 

For the science fiction or time travel geek out there, I can’t see many being disappointed. The script boasts one of the most engaging and intricate sci-fi narratives I’ve seen in a long time. And while the film is highly visually stylish, and intensely action packed; it remains wonderfully smart and ambitious. In the capable hands of writer/director Rian Johnson, Looper is one of the best crafted blockbusters of 2012. Though some of the film’s execution didn’t necessarily grip me as much as it should have, it was made up by some really good performances by Levitt, Willis, and Emily Blunt doing her best Southern accent. 

Looper: A-

Remember when "The Office" Was Good?

Remember when The Office was good?

And I don't meant, just passably good. Or merely watchable. But compulsively watchable. As if watching The Office was a ritual. Something that you treasured because that show was attempting something that few other shows at the time were. And yea it owes a great deal to other shows, but when that show was funny; it wasn't mild chuckle funny. It was gasping for air because you couldn't stop laughing. It was SO FUCKING FUNNY. They could have Michael or even Dwight do incredibly awkward, weird, occasionally borderline awful things and push it just before it went over the line of incredulity.

And yet even with all that going on, they could pop in this tiny little emotional, honest character moment into the chaos of it all and it never rang false. Damn, I miss those days. 

"How I Met Your Mother" to Get a 9th Season? Is That Really Such a Good Idea?

Film Thrasher reports, "For most of 2012, CBS has been very vocal that they'd like How I Met Your Mother to return for a Season 9. The problem? After an eighth season that has gained much criticism for not living up to past standards, fans aren't quite sure whether or not they'd like another year while the cast has not remained dedicated as various main actors' theatrical careers are really starting to take off."

I think the renewal of How I Met Your Mother for a 9th season is a pretty bad decision. HIMYM has been precipitously declining in quality and has little in the way of story left to tell beyond revealing who the mother actually is (a large reason I've continued to watch despite the fact I don't enjoy the series nearly as much as I used to). Perhaps with the burden of who the mother is gone from the show, they might be able to step out from underneath that shadow and return to the inventive and fun storytelling that sold myself and many others on the series back in its heyday. But recent episodes have so obviously been stalling tactics (and not always very clever ones at that) that it's made the series frustrating and not nearly as entertaining as it has been in the past. We know that the show is headed towards Barney and Robin's wedding, so it's only a matter of getting there. And its been a not all that fun tease. A series like this was never really meant to go 8 plus seasons long and it's starting to show its age. Hell, it was starting to show it even before that, notably with the really bad Season 6 story arc involving Ted's quite obviously doomed relationship with Zoe.

I stick with HIMYM because its decent enough comfort food, and it still sporadically shows glimpses of its old brilliance with the occasional spot on character moment, or hilarious joke, or solid callback. But episodes like season 7's "The Burning Beekeeper" or  this season's "The Overcorrection" demonstrate just how tired and sluggish the series has become in recent years. These episodes play around with time and narrative perspective (as the series has effectively done a number of times in the past; e.g. season 1's "The Pineapple Incident" or season 4's "Three Days of Snow"), but they only halfheartedly make the attempt and the lackluster effort and execution is noticeable and disappointing. And while the mid season finale "The Final Page Part 1/2" is certainly without question the best episode of this season and in a long while, the fact remains that HIMYM is long way off from its best years 

Why I (Yes, I of All People) Watch the Vampire Diaries, And You Should Too

I'm no Twi-hard. I'm not a milf soccer mom overly obsessed with a fictional underage vamp or a teeny bopper shrieking adolescent. So it's considerably weird that I currently find myself a fan of The Vampire Diaries. A show by all rights I should not find as entertaining as I do.

Yes, it's a supernatural soap-opera with love triangles and the occasional brooding. But more than almost any other show, Vampire Diaries entertains me like few shows do. As Todd VanDerWerff at The AV Club put it, "I know we're not supposed to like things with vampires in them ... Twilight is stupid. True Blood is uneven ... We are tired of sexy vampires ... I know we thought it might be fun to check in on this show ... If nothing else, it would provide a great opportunity for mockery, or so we thought, right?" Wrong. As VanDerWerff and I both soon discovered:

"There are two kinds of TV ... There is the kind of TV that is deliberately trying to tell you some sort of story and create compelling characters you'll care about. It wants to build a world that's worth exploring and give you something edifying to think about every week... Your Mad Mens, and your Breaking Bads ... But there's another type of show, a show that simply aims to make you gasp with laughter at just how fucking audacious it is, at how much it is going over-the-top and doing crazy shit. The Vampire Diaries is the latter kind of show ... and ... it is REALLY GOOD AT THAT."

VanDerWerff I think oversimplifies the matter a bit; there's more tv shows than just those two types (and even if there weren't, Diaries doesn't really fit into that latter category), but he does make a fairly interesting point. There are multiple reasons we go to watch tv. To tv critics who spend all their time watching tv shows, it's understandable that the top notch dramas are what gets their blood rushing. However, these types of shows aren't the only ones out there. There are talk shows, game shows, reality tv, sitcoms, and even the news. But as VanDWerff goes on to point out, "This [second] kind of TV is, I think, HARDER to construct than something really well-wrought. It requires coming up with plot twists and insane character moments on a weekly basis, and it tends to burn out really, really quickly."

And ultimately, that's what proves to be most impressive about the series. It pulls off what many other less intelligent series fail to. It hasn't burned out yet. It hasn't gone off the rails. It's actually become more entertaining to watch and more solid of a show as the plot, and mythology have expanded and become more intricate. The themes have matured and deepened. The writers have nailed the structuring of episodes. In fact, what everyone is anticipating is for Vampire Diaries to finally jump the shark. Because sooner or later the show that goes for those crazy moments (and I'm overstating this a bit because Diaries doesn't just do crazy moments, although it does do a lot of them) tends to forget its characters in the name of the twists. For example, The O.C. was a surprisingly entertaining show for awhile there; it had some, almost too predictable, crazy moments but it was pretty fun while it lasted. But then in its third season it started to lose itself and become pretty painful to watch. The show started dragging its feet under the weight of the maddening soap-opera enveloping it. 

VanDerWerff is right when he says its harder to construct a series for this second type of show. Think about all the "well wrought" shows. Sure, great dramas like The Sopranos and Battlestar Galactica failed to stick the landing, but no one thinks about that. In stead, they remember all the great television these shows provided before that. But with the second type of show (the so-called "audacious" ones), no one remembers when (if ever) it was actually good and highly entertaining. They just remember when the show lost all sense of purpose and when its misguided attempts at audacity made the show ludicrous (e.g. True Blood). It's seen as superfluous; this novelty of a time gone by. Most people barely remember why Grey's Anatomy or Desperate Housewives were juggernauts for a time. That's because they dwindled over time. They couldn't sustain the forward momentum that's so difficult to craft. 

The "audaciousness" VanDerWerff ascribes to certain types of shows is perhaps a bit ill labeled. These aren't shows that are necessarily entirely intentionally trying to be audacious, but, rather, they're often situated in genres that force their hands. That require them to provide content and stories that constantly keep you engaged and, when done right, invested in the characters (or at least their scheming). Diaries does attempt some crazy stuff but it's very familiar with the genres its playing around with, e.g. soap, supernatural, thriller, etc. And it more often than not subverts cliches and formulas in surprising and inventive ways that maintain tension, suspense, and the "oh shit" factor.

But like the best series out there, Vampire Diaries really isn't about its central premise. The Sopranos wasn't just about the mob. Deadwood wasn't just about the Old West. Mad Men isn't just about the 60's. These conceits are Trojan Horses for exploring greater questions and themes on a range of issues, including gender, sexuality, identity, masculinity, community, power, and morality, among many others. That isn't to put Diaries on the same level as these shows, but to say that its far more intelligent than your average series. In fact, Diaries has more in common with Buffy the Vampire Slayer (who it takes a number of cues from) than True Blood. On the surface, Buffy was not the series you'd think would go on to influence a huge amount of series out there; it was primarily about high school and vampires. But Joss Whedon, the show's creator, used the series as vehicle for exploring a number of issues (including almost every single one of the previously mentioned), while never forgetting the characters at the heart of the story. Diaries explores a range of themes from loyalty and identity to community and sacrifice. And at the same time, it never ceases to be immensely entertaining, with crazy back stabbings (both figurative and literal), double crossings, and scheming.

Now getting back to a previous point, I'm man enough to admit that I can be a bit of a cultural elitist  sometimes. I like watching intelligent programming. I love Breaking Bad. I'm a fan of Mad Men. I'm enjoying Homeland right now. I'm obsessed with Game of Thrones. Even my comedy tastes skew to the more intelligent: Parks and Recreation, Louie, Arrested Development, Community, etc.

But I also like watching programs that are simply fun and that are good on purely an entertainment basis. I adore Doctor Who. I like popping in on Family Guy every now and then (even though it kind of sucks now). I'm also a fan of its Seth MacFalane counterpart American Dad (which is far superior to Family Guy). The Walking Dead still holds my interests. I find Adventure Time and Regular Show highly amusing. Like I said before, I was even a fan of The O.C. I stuck with Heroes for awhile, even when it began to derail. I (sadly) took guilty pleasure in The Jersey Shore for its first two seasons. In short, sometimes we watch television to be challenged; to think deeply and meaningfully. And sometimes we watch tv to be distracted. To watch something that is simply built as a piece of entertainment and is pretty good at it too.

The Vampire Diaries fits this latter category too a tee, and, despite some initially slow beginnings where the writers were getting the structure and tone of episodes down, it has proven to be one of the best crafted shows on television. Granted, there are far more intelligent shows. For example, I'm also currently watching The Wire. The Wire is brilliant; no one is denying that. It is incredibly rich, complex, and ambitious. And it's a show that forces to me think deeply about a myriad of difficult issues. But The Wire isn't a show that the word "fun" initially springs to mind about.  Sometimes it's nice not to have to deeply ponder meaningful issues; sometimes I simply want to watch a show, just to watch a show.

And The Vampire Diaries provides ample opportunity for that. The show is one of the best written shows on television. It knows exactly what it is, and it doesn't try to be anything more than that. It's a supernatural soap-opera, sure, but damn if it isn't wonderfully crafted. The show moves with the deliberation and speed of a freight train, delivering more storylines in a single season than some shows do in two. And yet it never short shrifts these stories, letting problems simmer long enough for them to be interesting, but never long enough for you to grow tired and bored. And yet in the midst of these plot contrivances, the show still manages to, as Carrie Raisier so wonderfully described it, "to squeeze in ... conversations about feelings and junk."

I started watching the series based on the recommendation of The AV Club (a site for pop culture obsessives who spend more time watching tv shows than any of us), and I found it highly surprising when Vampire Diaries popped up in their list of top tv shows for 2011. And it made me decide to take a look at the show. What initially started out as a guilty pleasure soon turned into a show I no longer found myself providing excuses to justify watching. I was actually enjoying the show on its own merits. The series does start out slow, and it took awhile for it to find its rhythm, but once it did it became an unstoppable force of ridiculous twists, reveals, and cliffhangers. However, unlike other series that use twists like these to keep the viewer coming back, but eventually go off the rails, Diaries successfully avoids letting the show lose itself. The twists are grounded  in logical character motivations, which means even though their crazy twists, they never make the show completely lose itself.

What do I mean by "logical character motivations"? I mean the characters and their reactions take precedence over the twists. Lets take Lost for example. Everyone was always talking about how Lost just kept adding ridiculous twists and events that were seemingly confounding. In some instances this was true, but more often than not Lost successfully pulled off its crazy reveals. For example, in the Pilot episode of Lost, a polar bear comes out of nowhere. This is really weird since our protagonists are on a tropical island. The moment works, however, because it has less to do with that crazy moment and more to do with how the various characters react to it. Which begins to give us insights into who they are. For instance, Sawyer shoots the polar bear; we didn't know he had a gun and he wasn't trusting enough to let the others know this. We have just learned a great deal about Sawyer that will become highly relevant further down the line. 

I recently watched The Sixth Sense. In a lot of people's eyes, The Sixth Sense is the only one of M. Night Shyamalan's films where his now infamous twist endings works. And it isn't just because the quality of his films in general declined after The Sixth Sense (although they did). It's because in his later films we don't care about the twists. The twists tended to be so outlandish, so unjustifiable, so damaging to the premise and characters we had just witnessed that they could never sit well with audience. The Sixth Sense is the exception to the rule because it actually grounds its twists (especially the now infamous end plot twist) in logical character motivations: *Spoiler Alert* Bruce Willis has just spent the film helping a kid who sees dead people (notable because he failed to save a patient who made similar claims who would eventually go on to shoot him). Now having made up for his previous failures and redeemed himself, he is able to move on and therefore realize that, yep, he's been dead the whole time. *Spoilers Over* The twist comes out of a series of sequential events that grounds the twist in the previous actions of the film, basing it in what's relevant to the protagonist.

When I say Vampire Diaries is intelligent; I don't mean it's intelligent like The Wire or Mad Men where it's challenging you to think deeply or providing a complex narrative. I mean that the show is smartly written. This probably seems counter intuitive at first: the show is about twists, supernatural phenomena, and soap-ish drama. But it's really good at playing with the formula: kill a character here, add a character there and watch as loyalties shift. Writing is a big deal when it comes to tv shows. True Blood is often compared (wrongly so) to The Vampire Diaries. Attractive people. Supernatural phenomena. Crazy twists. But True Blood squandered its interesting initial premise. In stead, it lost all sight of why it started in the first place (which was a bit thin to begin with), and then never really elevated itself above its initial flaws or falterings.

Lets take Boy Meets World as another example. The show everyone remembers Boy Meets World as is not the show it always was. The early years of the show are pretty bad to be honest. They read like bad PSA's. But people tend to ignore or overlook this. When they think about the show, they remember the later high school and college years. The times when the writers stopped underestimating their talent. When Eric (played by Will Friedle) got to say absurd and hilarious one liners. When at times the show allowed itself to be a bit surreal. The show (for the most part) had the same cast for its 7 year run, but not the same writers. Good writing can make or break a show. Bad writing is what burns a show out; it's the reason good shows lose steam and quality once they've been on the air for so long. Even before Steve Carrell left The Office, the show was going downhill. The show was more on the air due to the studio refusing to let go of a valuable program rather than the writers having more stories to tell about their characters. And for the past four or five seasons it has continued to precipitously decline in quality and enjoyability. Good writing can also turn around a show. Parks and Recreation and Angel had terrible first seasons but had amazing turn arounds in their second seasons, leading to each show having a series of high quality seasons of television afterwards.

And The Vampire Diaries has surprisingly good writing. It knows its characters; it knows the genre. The writers write themselves great openings for future conflict and character development. They make great use of callbacks. All the crazy is tied back to an emotional and character driven core. Or as Carrie Raisler nicely puts it: "On top of all that plot and all of those surprising moments, there ... [is] also a nice balance of quiet character moments sprinkled throughout." A point that I'll get into more in a bit is that shows that have "end of the world" type stuff going on on a daily basis only work if we're invested in the characters attempting to stop the crazy evil happenstances from taking place. Otherwise, you simply have characters that exist solely to conveniently move the plot forward.  But, as Raisler notes, the show does get us invested in its characters beyond simply the circumstances we find them in: "What ... [has become] abundantly clear ... is how stealthily the writers have built something with so much more meaning than simply story mechanics... What really resonate[s] ...  [is] so much more: It ... [is] the emotions, the relationships, and the ever-growing realization of just how much this ragged band of [characters] ... [will] do anything to take care of each other no matter the circumstances." On top of this, the story has a complicated sense of morality (both "good" and "bad" guys kill people, betray people, and do things to put everyone else at risk). The writers are supremely confident in the story they're telling and whenever you begin to doubt their ability to continue to pull off whatever they are attempting, they blindside you with story telling that is impeccably crafted, stridently entertaining, and never loses sight of the its emotional, character driven center that ultimately makes it all worth while. 

Diaries also boasts a solid cast that nails the great material they're given.  Most notable is Ian Saumerholder's work as (sort of) evil vampire brother Daman, and as Raisler so perfectly writes, "This isn’t Emmy-caliber work, mind you, but it is a scenery-chewing master class on how to have a hell of a lot of fun." Nina Dobrorev also does a nice turn as protagonist Elena, a character played against type; she's never the "damsel in distress". On the contrary, she's strong-willed, driven, and often takes matters into her own hands. The acting is incredibly solid, often impressively nuanced and emotionally resonant.

Diaries is ultimately a genre show, and like the best genres shows it elevates itself above its initial premise. As Zach Handlen put it, "The difficulty of a genre show is finding a way to balance obvious, general reactions ('Oh my God, zombies!' or 'Oh my God, vampires!', i.e., what basically anyone would say in a situation with zombies and/or vampires) and character-specific reactions." Yes, vampires are going to create crazy scenarios which would have any normal people scared, bemused, angry, etc. But when characters become mere pawns to be moved around at the expense of the plot, that's when shows dig themselves a shallow grave. We need a reason to care about characters beyond the mere fact that their lives are in danger on a regular basis. Because after a certain point a few key characters generally become untouchable. They have been through so much in the story and survived, that to kill them off simply becomes too unimaginable and difficult for the writers. We as the audience recognize this, and therefore we are usually not fearful about these characters dying. Periphery characters we don't care about as much or villains may die, but the protagonists essentially cannot. So how do you get people invested in a series? You give them characters they want to see on a weekly basis. Not just because they're in ridiculous situations, but because the writers have nailed the character, their reactions to scenarios, their personality, their relationship to other characters, etc.  This helps emotionally invest you in the characters and makes you want to spend time with them. Handlen goes on to say, "Part of the appeal of good TV is that we want to hang out with characters we see every week—we’re drawn back for the laughs and the excitement, sure, but there’s also that sense of getting comfort from familiar faces." Characters make a show, not its premise; writers that do justice to their characters and remember to tie their stories back to the characters will almost always tell better stories.

In sum: "It's impressive not only in its ambition but especially in its execution, as nothing feels rushed, and no one story is slighted." Vampire Diaries is a surprisingly ambitious, inventive, and well-written series, as well as one of the most entertaining and fun series currently on the air. And it has no creative peer that's attempting what it's trying to do (at least not as ambitiously, intelligently, or successfully). Now, I haven't started the fourth season yet, but I'm confident in the writers capability to continue to churn out not only one of the best genre shows on televisions, but simply one of the best shows.

Thoughts on Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Having finally wrapped up my summer long meandering watch of Buffy the Vampire Slayer's 7 (!) seasons, I figured it was only appropriate I shared some of my thoughts on the series.

Buffy started out initially as a better than average monster of the week series. Which would have been fine if the seemingly always brilliant Joss Whedon (creator, and, for most of the series run its, showrunner) hadn't had bigger things in mind. Blending genres, including drama, comedy, martial arts, horror, and, in one notable and memorable instance, musical comedy, the series quickly proved itself to be one of the smartest, funnest, and (just) best series on television. Asking methodical, thoughtful, and meaningful questions and fostering an intelligent and passionate discourse on everything from gender and sexuality to community and identity. And this was in the days when the internet was still a peculiar novelty to most people, and yet it still managed to draw an insane number of people to fansites and message boards. This discourse and these questions were all asked through Whedon's signature feminist lens and critique.

And although it faltered in later season (though, in my opinion, not as much as some of its detractors claim), it still continued to reach creative and intellectual peaks that other series could only look wide eyed and never even hope to achieve. In its much belied and often hated (even diehard fans are not wholly taken to it) 6th season the series produced "Once More With Feeling", its much talked about musical comedy episode, which is arguably the best episode the series ever did. Whedon wrote original and wonderful music that was organically introduced, spoofed genres and allowed the characters to openly express their opinions, having far reaching ramifications for the rest of the season.

So, in what some say was its worse season, the series still achieved its creative peak. But that's the sort of series that Buffy was. Never being content taking the easy way out of situations. Letting tensions and problems stew, and be explored from all angles before letting them come to an end. But more importantly, the series never forgot to do justice to its characters; never failing to take them seriously. Buffy was never about the big fights. The best scenes were of people talking just before going off to save the world from apocalypse. And because you cared about the characters and understood what was at stake for them and because they had been humanized (even the villains), it allowed you be more invested in the show and the characters.

Yes, Buffy was a flawed series (particularly after its 3rd season), but Television is a medium that often produces flawed shows. And despite its flaws, Buffy continued to be entertaining, smart, and relevant even after 7 years on the air. And the series was often such high quality that it continues that thoughtful discourse in Academia where the series is studied under its own category of Buffy Studies (seriously, it's a legit thing). The series is also widely regarded as one of the most influential tv series of all time. Many of the shows writers got there start on Buffy,where they learned the tricks on the trade. Buffy writers have gone on to do everything from Mad Men to Glee, from Game of Thrones to Spartacus. Battlestar Galactica. Homeland. 24. Fringe. Lost. If it's good and on television, it's probably got a writer who got their start on Buffy on it. And the number of people who cite Buffy as an influence on their series is astounding. Dead Like Me, Joan of Arcadia, Teen Wolf, Vampire Diaries, Doctor Who, Torchwood. Buffy made people realize shows about people saving the world on a regular basis could actually be quality television, and its legacy continues to be astounding.

So a lot of this probably doesn't seem like my thoughts but just me stating facts and nifty trivia about the series, but the simple matter is that I'm impressed that a tv series was capable of what Buffy did. And I think it earned everything it's achieved. The more interesting thing is that Buffy hardly got nominated for Emmys or many awards in general. The fact of the matter is that really great shows often get overlooked. Almost every drama these days follows the format The Sopranos established, but The Sopranos lost out most years at the Emmys to The West Wing. And most comedies these days follow the format that Arrested Development established, but it lost out two out of the three years it was nominated. In fact, Buffy wouldn't have survived with the ratings it had if it had been on any major network. It was on the WB, and Buffy's ratings were actually impressive for the network, even though paltry compared to ratings on ABC, NBC, and Fox. The WB in general has produced high quality shows. With lower budgets, but more loyal fans, writers are forced to be more creative, inventive, and dedicated to their series, and that produces greater quality programming. Veronica Mars, Supernatural, The Vampire Diaries, Grounded For Life, Smallville. They're all really, really good series, but have garnered/did garner minimal attention and that's a shame. Try not to let them and other quality shows be another Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a great but flawed, and under-watched but highly influential, series.

How I Finally Got Into Mad Men

I started to watch Mad Men awhile back while it was in its second season, and I simply couldn't convince myself to continue watching. I really could not put my finger on why it didn't appeal to me. It's literally the sort of show that is catnip bait for for diehard television and film fans. It's well-written, well-acted, the period details are spot on and enthralling, and when Mad Men is on top form, it really is undeniably the best show on television (Case in point: Nixon Vs. Kennedy, The Wheel, Three Sundays, The Suitcase, Shut the Door. Have a Seat, etc. A solid list of episodes I would be willing to argue are the best television I've ever watched). I decided to give it another go, and I've slowly but surely been meandering my way through the series. I've discovered a number of reasons to give pause for overtly praising the lauded status of the series: it can be too on the nose, too subtle for its own good, a frustrating slow burn where the show just seems to be repeating itself, completely drop plot lines that were seemingly of grand significance (I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about how they handled Meghan towards the end of season 4), and at times far too gimmicky in a: "hey, it's the 60's, aint' that quaint" sort of way.

But I've finally made it half way through the fifth, and most recent, season, and I'm becoming increasingly captivated by the series. And not just in a way that I appreciate its vision and how it attempts to achieve that vision, but rather in the more compelling and exciting way where I really do enjoy the series and look forward to the next episode. I believe that has to do with  (ironically enough, as I've chalked it up to being a flaw earlier) the slow burn aspect. The Sopranos and The Wire so famously pioneered the engineering of serialized dramas that took their sweet time with doling out their stories. (Matt Wiener, creator and showrunner of Mad Men, got his first big break writing for The Sopranos). Ever since, shows have taken their cues from this kind of storytelling, including the equally compelling and awesome AMC series Breaking Bad. Early on it could be frustrating because there wasn't a familiarity with the program and its aims. Mad Men needed to court my favors. Jon Hamm, Elizabeth Moss, Christina Hendrick, and the rest of the major players nailed their performances and I generally liked them. But there was a problem; one Noel Murray (of the excellent A.V. Club) explained well for Buffy the Vampire Slayer (another series I'm currently working my way through):

"By [this point] ... the Buffyverse has become so intricate and self-sustaining that ... the action is far more specific to Sunnydale and the characters we’ve come to know."

Which isn't huge deal until you consider this in the context of specific characters from Buffy, "We’ve hung out with Willow for three years now, so we can recognize this trait, because it’s a Willow trait, not the 'nerdy smart girl' trait it would’ve been in the early days of the character." Joan isn't just the unflappable, sultry head secretary. Peggy isn't just the starry eyed new secretary (now copywriter). Don isn't just the impossibly dapper, and brilliant ad man. Over time they've ceased to be based on familiar templates and taken on a spark of life unique to their individual characters, and we come to like them, even at times care for them. And that allows for later seasons to be that much better. It's telling stories that intrigue me about characters I want to see stories about. And it also builds upon the solid foundation its already built, using callbacks and our familiarity of the program, to make interesting insights, spot on character moments, and compelling conflicts. In fact, I occasionally get wary when the show introduces new characters and shoulders a great deal of storyline to them (especially when it's characters like Duck Phillips, Midge, or Faye Miller. They're characters I come to like, only for the show to write them off as if they weren't hugely important to begin with. The only upside to this being that these characters real purposes are to reflect back what we're supposed to see in the other more important characters).

Beyond simply its characters though (which in my opinion is perhaps the most important part of a show, right after writing), Mad Men really is superb television. This is mainly due to its storytelling capabilities (which some have rightfully noted has a literally quality to it). It's so confident and bold in everything it does that whenever you begin to question or doubt what's going on, it chooses to shatter your expectations. Take Shut the Door. Have a Seat, the brilliant season three finale, for example. The episode manages to destroy everything that's been built up over the course of three seasons. Betty asks Don for a divorce finally. Sterling Cooper is no more. Roger, Bert, Lane Pryce, and Don conspire to start up a new firm to save themselves from being bought up by a larger company that would see to them be useless cogs in a bureaucratic machine. It's a fresh new start for all of them as they take a select few former Sterling Cooper members and excitedly head towards an uncertain future. Wiener has essentially blown up everything we've come to know. There is no way to say where the show is going after this. It's lost one of its major sets and removed a number of minor characters (including surprising ones like faux-Bohemian Paul Kinsey and closeted art director Salvador Romano). There's no longer the ever increasing tension building towards Betty and Don's calamitous marital failure. The shows rewritten its genetic code without sacrificing quality, intelligence, or believability.

This wouldn't come off as completely audacious if it weren't for a glance at what the rest of television programming is doing. Consider one of the top watched television series, The Big Bang Theory. It's highly formulaic. The characters are types; there are clear beginning, middles, and ends with resolutions we probably could have figured out within the first ten to fifteen minutes. The jokes are someone setting up the punchline, which then someone else plays off of. It is something we've seen in sitcoms since the dawn of the sitcom. There's no experimentation. There's no deep character analysis or complicated/thought provoking decisions or stories. And sometimes that's not necessarily a bad thing. Some of the best sitcoms currently on television don't stray too far from television tropes. For instance, Cougar Town relies on banter playing off its characters, but it has enough quirk, inventiveness, and unabashed love for its characters that it rises it above the formulas. The same was true of Friends, which if nothing else took advantage of sitcom tropes to tell meaningful stories about its central characters. It's something to take note of for other shows who's only goal is to get to the syndication finish line without considering what's the point of getting there. TV is ultimately a business. One where shows need viewership to garner advertisers in order to survive. One where shows are more valuable to a studio in syndication than they are when they currently air because the rights to show the episodes in re-runs sell for far more than the studio could make off simple advertisement.

But Mad Men has the guts to tell the story it wants to tell without compromising, which at times can be frustrating (and at times can be to its detriment), but it's hard not to appreciate a show that's so wonderfully dedicated to making a unique vision in a marketplace that should have killed that vision. The truth of the matter is that people want to watch compelling and original television. They probably want it to relate whatever market niche they come from, but they they don't really want to see the same old, same old (at least, I know I don't). I've always felt for movies, studios had it completely wrong in trying to market movies that were essentially the movies they've always produced. People like familiarity, but they want you to take what's familiar and spin it on its head. If The Avengers recent success doesn't prove this, than I don't know what else will. It was a based in superhero franchises that as good as they were, in all honesty, had very cliched origin stories. When the studio went to Joss Whedon (who coincidentally also created Buffy the Vampire Slayer) they simply said put these superheroes together and have them fight the bad guy. Whedon said No. You are not going to to put them together and just have them fight the bad guy. You need to justify putting them together. You need to put them through the ringer in order to justify bringing them together. Justifying it made the film that much more fun to watch. Sure, it would have been cool to see Thor, Captain America, Iron Man, and the like battling evil together. But having them battle evil together not just because it's simply cool, but because it's justifiably necessary is all the more awesome. And justification is everything when it comes to pop culture. It's what distinguishes what we consider good, and what we consider bad. It's what we choose to watch, and what we choose not to watch. We justify. The studios justify. The creative people behind the work justify. And somewhere in that intersection a dialogue begins. Mad Men needed to justify itself. It needed to justify its existence beyond simply being a seemingly accurate depiction of the 60's and the way people lived through it. And I believe it has. It's become an intelligent, and complex character study not just of the character flagship of the series Don Draper, but of Joan, Peggy, Pete Cambell, Roger Sterling, etc.

The more Mad Men justified itself, the more confidently it strode forward, knowingly saying, "Hey, don't worry. We know what we're doing, and it's going to be good". The more I eased into watching the series, and began to appreciate and enjoy it. Here's hoping the rest of the series proves itself to be as justified as the first five seasons have.