Parks and Recreation - "Women in Garbage" - Review

One of the great things about Parks and Rec is its willingness to try out the seemingly endless number of combinations of pairings of its large, lovable cast. Yes, there are pairings that will always be great such as the utterly adorable combination of April and Andy. But there’s not a single character I don’t particularly enjoy or like, so whenever a new pairing of characters and actors is made, it ends up bring out new sides to the characters and new ways for jokes to be told.

I don’t think we’ve ever seen Andy, Ben, and Tom go off on some adventure together by themselves. But it’s completely plausible, while also being very funny. Tom’s “Rent-a-Swag” clientele are into basketball, but since Tom lacks knowledge of the sport to use in his sales pitches, he enlists the help of “an athlete and a nerd who loves stats”. They head over to the local gymnasium and fail to play basketball miserably. They even lose to the middle schoolers that Tom sells his wares to (very, very badly in fact, amusingly yelling that the kids must be cheating), utterly shaming him. However, Tom turns this around using the kids to advertise how when you win a basketball game, you’re going to need one of his suits for the after-game interview.

I’m even more certain that we’ve never seen Ron and Anne paired together, but it’s the acknowledgement of how little time they spend together (Ron thinks her last name is “Hanson”) that sells the pairing. The show is quite aware that Anne’s dorky enthusiasm and Ron’s masculine calmness would have to be brought together by desperate (well, desperate, for the goofy caricature world of Parks anyway) circumstances. Diane needs Ron to babysit her kids, but Ron Swanson is … well, Ron Swanson and so he’s thoroughly uncomfortable and completely out of his elements. And so he enlists the help of Anne, who is seemingly just as inept with kids as Ron, only managing to connect with them by showing them her medical equipment. Guess what: the kids end up loving both Anne and Ron.

Though we’ve seen April and Leslie paired together recently due to their shared interest in building a new park, it’s an underutilized combination that really works. April’s deadpan cynicism contrasts wonderfully with Leslie’s happy-go-lucky enthusiasm. Leslie and April take up the challenge of being garbage collectors to prove a point about gender inequality in the public sector of Pawnee. Sanitation apparently has the worst track record on hiring women in the local government. To show them women are capable of these government roles, they perform a local trash pick-up route, and succeed with flying colors. And when it turns out to be that April (not Leslie) who is the anti-defeatist, finally shedding the façade of sarcasm and pushing Leslie to go the step further to “win” by moving the fridge (their last task needlessly, meanly assigned to them), well, it feels well-earned. It also demonstrates the connection these two characters have. April really isn’t as pessimistic or dogmatic as she makes herself seem, and she respects and admires Leslie, who, though she’d never admit it, is her role-model. 

Park’s cast runs deep, and its continued ability to find new ways to use these characters allows it to be as sharp and funny as it is five seasons in. 

Stray Observations:

-“It’s not a tissue. It’s a receipt”

-“Men are better than women … we must obey!”

-The kids on Jerry: “No” – No one wants anything to do with Jerry. Not even kids.

-“She’s my special friend”

“No need. My only plan for today was to buy skittles”

-“If I were only 300 years older councilman”

-“I’ve run out of things for them to do so I’m having them play with a landmine”

-“Did I do basketball”

-How adorable is Adam Scott wearing sport goggles?

-Anne and the kids egging on about his love for so funny and sweet. His response: “I love nothing!”

-“I think I dribbled an idea. No make that double dribbled”

Grade: B+

The Office - "Customer Loyalty" - Review

During the last few seasons of The Office, the series has lost its footing. Jim and Pam got married and had kids. What else was there to tell about their story? But this season has been making it feel as if that period of stagnation was purposeful for the relationship’s story, arguing that the comfortable repetitiveness of married life has caused an absence of excitement and adventure in Jim and Pam’s lives. This season has provided the most interesting story about the couple since the first pregnancy arc, and the payoff is beginning to show in a painfully realistic scene where discovering who’s behind the camera “Bryan” is undercut by how deeply sad the conversation between Jim and Pam is. “What am I doing wrong, Bryan?” Pam asks tearfully. And then she keeps repeating, “What am I doing wrong?” If you’re not moved by this, no matter how disappointed you’ve been by the series up to this point, you must have a heart of stone.

The series seems poised to break the strongest coupling it’s had, and its second most tried and true iconic watermark, and that scares and heartbreaks me. That’s a testament to great writing, and the hallmark of the development of great fictional characters. I love Jim and Pam. Those characters are under my skin. I rooted for them getting together from day one, and we’ve seen them build a relationship. A deeply loving, affectionate, realistically depicted coupling that grounded all the antics of the series.

Though I find the reasons for the heated argument between them to be a bit of a stretch and even a bit clichéd (you can see it coming from the get go), it didn’t matter once the other shoe fell and it came together, John Krasinski and Jenna Fischer play the scene so well and there’s so much history from seven plus seasons’ material that there didn’t need to be a deeply interesting set-up for it. And it’s totally plausible; I’m not married nor do I have kids, but this feels like the type of small-scale thing that could cause an argument between a married couple. Though it seems to blow up a bit too much, this has been building for a long enough (we have watched the two of them drift apart and Pam become more and more disaffected) that it rings true and its all the more devastating for that fact.

There were other things going on in this episode and some forgettable things at that (Darryl and Dwight’s storyline is rather “meh” and not very funny), but the Jim and Pam stuff was enough to make up for these elements. Plus the scenes in the meeting room, where Nelly broaches the point of just how questionable the flirtation between Erin and Pete is, is very funny and well played by everyone involved. Everyone reacts as to be expected; Kevin blurts out that the mystery man Nelly keeps referring to is obviously Pete; Creed is immediately on-board with role-playing to be this mystery fellow; Angela badmouths Erin’s actions despite having cheated on Andy during the time they dated; Stanley is immediately rifled by questioning someone cheating in a relationship. It’s a scene that effectively makes great use of this large, disparate cast that doesn’t make it feel like the cartoonish mob that the supporting characters have sometimes become in later seasons. 

Stray Observations:

-I like Meredith’s new curly blonde wig, which so does not suit her.

-The cold open with Dwight discovering a long waiting prank Jim made several years before is funny for how well it harkens back to earlier seasons.

-Toby is very funny and very creepy hitting on Nelly. But he does have a point; Andy hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend lately running off like he did.

-Nelly is freaked out by adding fire to the flame of the Pete-Erin relationship by having had them work on Dunder-Mifflin’s social media presence. She’s fearful how Andy might react since they just got on decent enough terms that he was willing to write her a recommendation for adoption.

-“Not that I’m into girls. Not that I’m into Pete” – No matter how bad the series may get, Ellie Kemper’s portrayal of Erin continues to be a highlight.

Grade: B+

"Silent House" - Film Review

The first two-thirds of Silent House are an interesting movie carried by a nice performance by Elizabeth Olsen. But the ending undoes everything that had been working for the movie by providing bizarre answers to the horror elements that had come before it.

I’m a fan of stylistically and structurally ambitious choices. The film is shot as if it’s one continuous take, filmed in real time. This decision to focus on Olson as she struggles with whatever unknown people/forces threaten her is both to the narrative’s advantage and part of its problem. Olson is at times the only person on screen for large stretches of time and watching her search the house is wonderfully suspenseful and nerve-racking at times. But by the same token though, many of the film’s reveals are too jumpy and poorly executed because of the single camera nature and lack of cuts to the shot.

Having almost total screentime, Olsen carries the film rather strongly, conveying the fear and confusion of the circumstances around her, largely without any dialogue. It’s hard to really imagine this much talent coming from the younger sibling of Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, who‘ve mostly done forgettable family or romantic fare. Elizabeth Olsen’s film debut Martha Marcy May Marlene gained widespread praise for her portrayal of a damaged, paranoid young woman coping with her former experiences with an abusive cult. I largely enjoyed Olsen’s performance here; the panged expressions on her face and the raw unhinged fear, anxiety, and desperation as she barely holds back from screaming or weeping often elevates some honestly third-rate material.  

There are elements to Silent House that demonstrate an effective horror movie. There’s plenty of the sort of buildup that one finds in the best of horror films, but the ending derails the film and undermines everything that came before it. Despite a largely very good performance from Olsen, it’s rather disappointing.  

Grade: C+

My Thoughts on Season 3 of "Deadwood"

 Spoilers on Season 3 of "Deadwood" Below:

I knew what I was getting into for Deadwood’s third (and final) season. Everyone told me to avoid it; to not watch it. That I would be let down and disappointed. That so much is left incomplete. That without a 4^th season, the series feels unsatisfyingly unfinished. And though this is very, very true, and as it stands this is my least favorite of the 3 seasons of the series, that doesn’t mean this is a bad season of television.

In fact, Hearst’s appearance in Deadwood as the season’s antagonist, and a proper villain the series has never truly had before gives the show a sense of purpose it’s lacked for a long time. The first season was so meanderingly aimless, and so without direction and drive that it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the 2^nd season which handled its serialized elements far more cleanly and efficiently.

With Hearst put in proper conflict with Al, and Al attempting to maintain his hold on the camp and win over everyone to his cause, the series more tightly and nicely handles many of its major plotlines. Al finally seems to have met his match. He won over Bullock; things never truly boiled over with Cy; he handled Wolcott and co. when they appeared last season. But it was never really as doubtful that Al would ultimately be successful; it was only a matter of time. Season three changes that prospect with Hearst. Hearst is so much more in control than Al; he can’t be bullied or bought, and killing him would raise too many questions. He can’t be attacked directly. Al has to keep telling Bullock not to arrest or go after him whenever something goes awry (and when he doesn’t listen and imprisons him it doesn’t solve anything, but only serves to amplify Hearst’s loathing of the town and cause him to hire armed men to come to the town). During the election speeches at the end of episode 2, Al is trapped in Hearst’s room and thoroughly beaten in an attempt to get information on how to swindle Alma out of her claim. He refuses, but Al has never been so powerless before, and now he’s a finger shorter. Meanwhile, Hearst continues to kill his employees as he pleases to squash unionizing. He threatens to rape Alma when she tries to set her owns terms for selling her claim (which eventually he is able to take from her through intimidation). He turns Cy into his lapdog by exposing his false blackmail (Making Cy even weaker and more pathetic than his worthless peon self has ever been). Alma’s weakness for laudanum is exploited by Tolliver and because of it her marriage to Ellesworth is in peril. Dan is left deeply disaffected after killing Hearst’s bodyguard in a bloody, awful street fight. E.B. meanwhile is on the outside looking in because he sold his hotel to Hearst. Hearst conspires with Yankton to rig the election and put in place individuals favorable to him. And towards the end, the Pinkertons finally arrive after all this talk of them (and they’re just as much of problematic assholes as Al’s been making them out to be). If that weren’t enough, the crappy cherry on top is the death of Ellesworth at the hands of the Pinkerton; they couldn’t have chosen a better human being to end the life of, and it’s an infuriating moment that unites the town further against Hearst. 

Al thinks he’s playing checkers when he’s really playing chess. One upping the territorial government in Yankton seems impressive (and it really is), and Al initially believes that Hearst can’t be any harder to overcome. It’s why he goes by himself to see Hearst and never calls for backup. And after that moment, he spends much of the rest of the season being flabbergasted that he has been so thoroughly outmatched and outwitted.

Meanwhile, civilization keeps working its way into the camp. Alma uses her wealth to back a bank. A theater troupe decides to setup shop in the town. A school house is built in Joanie’s former brothel. There are more buildings (and they’re far neater, tidier, and “proper” looking) than ever before; there’s also an abundance of new townsfolk. Most obviously, there are the elections that are at the background of the entire season.    

While these aspects are great and make Deadwood’s 3^rd season a treat, the season has more problems than not and without another season we may never know just how well some extraneous feeling elements of this season would have carried over. Much of the season simply fails to be effective. So many characters feel disconnected from the plot or are poorly utilized. The theater company doesn’t fit in at all and doesn’t really feel like it has any right to be in the series. Meanwhile, longstanding characters, such as E.B., Charlie, Merrick, Doc Cochrane, Jane, and Joanie, are hardly used at all. There are entire episodes without some of my favorite characters, and the cast kept expanding and expanding when there didn’t feel like a huge need for it. Underservicing these characters and their stories, and not fully telling other ones made for the 3^rd season of Deadwood to stick out like a sore thumb of the 3 seasons. It’s arguably better than the first season, but the first season was at least able to tell the story it wanted to tell and ended rather satisfyingly. The 3^rd season simply has too many damn stories and not enough about the characters we’ve come to know and like; it feels overcrowded and overstuffed.

The show had its problems. It couldn’t write children characters if its life depended on it. It could become unnecessarily self-involved, intricate and complex. It could become overly dense and meandering. However, when it was firing on all cylinders, far and between, few shows could touch it. Many of my biggest complaints against the series went out the window in the last three episodes of the season, which are such tightly crafted episodes. The finale is a beautiful piece of television with great tension, high stakes, and a sense of a community rallying to defend itself.  It’s arguably the best and most compelling episode the series ever did, and while it leaves a fair amount open ended, it’s not nearly as unsatisfying as I had anticipated. The season provided enough great things that it didn’t really bother me so largely (although I was finding myself less interested midway through the season than at any other time in the series’ run). The growing relationship between Joanie and Jane was pleasantly surprising and sweet; Seeing Cy so weak was very pleasing since I find him to be one of the most loathsome series regulars; Brian Cox’s turn as John Langrishe was often too delightful for me to be upset at how little I cared about the theater troupe. As always, it was always entertaining to watch Al scheme, and Bullock barely contain his rage.

This is a season of television that now is too overshadowed by the fact that it shouldn’t have been a last season. But there’s so many great series that never get to properly tell their stories fully. At least we now have a “beautiful corpse” rather than a monstrosity that kept living long past when it should have as so many series often do.

Good bye Deadwood, a revisionist Western (that eventually moved beyond its Western beginnings) with a strange (but wonderful and precise) use of language. You were filled with such rich characters and a lived-in feel. You were optimistic when almost every great drama is cynical and angry about human nature and the world. I’m happy to be disappointed by a series not finishing its story rather than telling its story poorly.  

Does Being Funny But Lacking a Good Plot Hurt TV Series?

There’s always a tricky balance in comedy between telling stories and telling jokes. More and more tv comedies are going for getting as many jokes in at the expense of the plot. The question though is: “Does the show suffer for weaker narratives?”

New Girl’s most recent episode “Pepperwood” was arguably the funniest episode this season, but it skimped on the plot. Its B-plot was so underwhelmingly developed (despite being low-key and sincere like the best New Girl plots), while the A-plot danced a fine line of eye-raising broadness. It was easy to forgive the lack of plot grounding the narrative because it was packed with jokes; hilarious, varied jokes that it could make it easy to forget just how ridiculous it was to see Jess and Nick stalking one of her creepy adult students.

To a lesser extent, How I Met Youth Mother’s recent episode “Ring Up” experienced similar circumstances. The plot devices of the episode were iffy at best (Ted is getting old! Robin’s engagement ring makes her invisible!), but there were more jokes in the episode than there has been since early seasons of HIMYM. While New Girl managed it a bit better 1) because there’s no serialized end game to get to and 2) it’s newer and fresher, the fact remains (that for me at least) the abundance of jokes slightly makes up for just how little I cared for or believed in the plot. 

Happy Endings is one of the most joyously funny series on television. It crams in a cornucopia of jokes, and so we often forgive just how awful its plots can sometimes be. But if you actually stop to consider some of the stories that Happy Endings bases its jokes around, they can be fairly idiotic, weird, mean-spirited and generally questionable. However, what most people admire about Happy Endings is that this is pretty much solely what it aims to achieve. It thins the plot to a minimum and ramps up the jokes per minute.  

On the other hand, New Girl and HIMYM’s best episodes were not “Pepperwood” or “Ring Up”. In fact, we know both series are capable of producing much more neatly and interestingly plotted episodes than these two episodes. HIMYM’s best episode this season remains to be “Final Page” (the mid-season finale where Barney proposes to Robin), while New Girl has had a number of really good episodes this season that are arguably better than “Pepperwood”, including “Fluffer”, “Models”, “Menzies”, “Eggs”, and “Santa”. While these episodes were not nearly as funny as “Pepperwood” or “Ring Up” (“Final Page” reaches a bit too hard for jokes at times – especially in Part 1 of the episode – and the A-plot of “Models” does not stack up with just how good the sub-plot about the cookie is), they’re not nearly as good as other work we’ve seen from these series. Telling a good story seems to trump just how funny that story may be.

Let’s take Cougar Town as a different example. Cougar Town isn’t always a massively funny series; at times, it’s very amusing but it’s not typically gut-bustingly laugh worthy. However, Cougar Town is perhaps a better series than New Girl, HIMYM, and Happy Endings. Though I may not laugh as much when I watch Cougar Town, I almost always finish an episode satisfied. Characters face issue and problems; they confront them; there are resolutions. Sometimes the characters evolve; other times status quo remains. But it tells believable, practical stories about characters I like and care about, and it does it consistently, and effectively.

However, I maintain a good deal of respect for series that have the ambition or the fortitude to pack an episode with jokes and do it mindfully enough that the episode doesn’t go off the rails. It brings with it difficulties of a different sort than telling a fully realized, well-arced narrative. It’s hard to determine just what will or won’t make people laugh. Sometimes an episode is going to please some but totally alienate others.

If a show’s plot is going to be suspect though, it needs to be at least making me laugh so much that I could care less that it’s all rather pointless. 

What does everyone else think?

Modern Family - "Fulgencio" - Review

If I had to recommend tv comedies to someone who had little knowledge of television, odds are that I probably wouldn’t suggest Modern Family. It probably wouldn’t broach my top 10 or even my top 20. The same goes for How I Met Your Mother and The Office for where they stand (though their earlier seasons might have me say otherwise). I want to abandon them; I want to clear up time to watch better, more enjoyable, less frustrating series. But I keep finding myself out of nostalgia for what these series used to be (and the glimpses of their former selves they occasionally show) and a desire for completeness, as if I can’t properly complain about how disappointing they’ve become if I’m not that stalwart individual suffering though it all. Modern Family hasn’t reached the consistently abysmal lows of HIMYM or The Office (although it edged along that line a fair amount last season).

Which is to say “Fulgencio” isn’t a very good episode either in terms of storytelling or in terms of jokes. I’m a sucker for a Godfather spoof as much as the next guy, but it feels like a poorly placed dues ex machina to solve a half-heartedly told story. We know Phil and Claire function as different roles for the kids and within the family but there wasn’t enough set up to establish Phil’s attempts to help his kids despite their protesting; there was also just as little follow through: we get a montage of Phil  sticking his nose where ought not to be stuck, but it’s dashed through without any time for any jokes to be told or scenes to breathe. 

We’ve never met or have even heard any mention of Gloria’s mother and sister, so we have little reason to care about them. They’re barely developed as actual people, and so thus are merely meant to serve as plot devices. However, the episode can’t even decide what their function is within the plot: Jay has met his match in terms of stubbornness (?) … sort of, but not really. There’s not a through line for the conflict for it to matter or for it to go anywhere (i.e. “I can’t win her over” “Oh, dad you’re the new Phil” “Jeez, your right, let me do something about it” and then he proceeds to win her over. Sure, he attempts to do it, but the failure doesn’t matter because it’s undercut by Gloria’s sister freaking out). Similarly, the case goes for Gloria nominally confronting her past and how she screwed her sister over – She’s pretty much responsible for her sister never traveling or leaving Columbia or making any money. These are all terrible things and it’s never commented upon with any level of seriousness which it should have been.

Cam and Mitchell are trying to be better role models for Lily when she starts getting snarky. But they’re freed of all burden of guilt for her sass mouthing because it turns out Claire was responsible and not them. So there’s no lesson to be had or real relevance for why we’ve been told this story. The tough choice between fostering Lily’s snark to go to a party and being the better person to raise her right is lifted from them. All agency, all responsibility up in smoke. Gloria doesn’t have to feel bad about what she’s done. Jay doesn’t have to win over his mother-in-law. The kids never have to confront their own problems. No one contemplates what the point of it all is or whether they should act better or more rationally in the future. In fact, Modern Family’s typical, clichéd voiceover tying up the story with a nice thematic bow is not present at the end of the episode. 

There’s no narrative drive, there’s no real stakes, and there’s not enough jokes (and not enough funny ones at that) to justify how helter skelter and empty the underlying premise of the plot is. 

Grade: C+

New Girl - "Pepperwood" - Review

We oftentimes judge our friends far more than people we don’t know or don’t like. Once you’ve developed a strong relationship with another person, you start to feel comfortable enough to make jokes at their expense, and even to talk about them behind their back. Everybody has got a “pogo”, the term Schmidt coins for the flaws of our friends that we judge them just a little bit on. If I’m being honest, my friends would probably say my “pogo” is either that I can be unintentionally arrogant or that I’m not outgoing enough. I’ve come to accept these flaws; they’re part of who I am, and I’m quite aware my friends probably talk about them a bit behind my back. That’s alright by me, but when you initially hear that there might be a “pogo” that your friends make fun of you for, well, it can be unnerving and bothersome.

The “pogo” concept at the heart of this episode is wonderfully sincere and honest (it even makes Winston’s penis brushing up against other people appear to be an oddly charming thing), and it’s definitely the type of thing 20/30somethings would be fighting over. This heartfelt, believable center drives an episode that’s immensely funny. Though the main plot is primarily about Jess’s creepy student who Nick feels probably wants to murder her, it’s the comedic work related to “pogo” that makes the episode standout.

Jess’s only student who seems to care about her teaching comes off like a possible serial killer. Nick fears for her life and pretends to be heavily Chicago accented “Julius Pepperwood” and shows up at Jess’s writing class. This completely frustrates Jess whose uncanny need to see the good in everyone makes her believe that this guy is everything he claims to be. They end up stalking the guy to his house to determine who’s right. While the whole storyline feels like it’s ready to broach into the cartoonish (and does when the guy turns out to be dating a woman who could be his mother’s age – a weird, unnecessary plot turn), Jake Johnson and Zooey Deschanel are so committed to the material (like where they fight for the notebook and it appears like they’re having sex, or wherea too stressed to think Jess crawls under a van, or the entire end sequence where Jess hops on the guys back and gets pepper sprayed) and get so many genuinely funny jokes that it didn’t matter.     

After brushing his manhood up against Cece accidentally, Schmidt reveals to him that “pogo” is the things about their friends that people talk about behind their friends’ backs. Everyone keeps stewing and wants to know what their pogo is. Schmidt in his quest to determine what his “pogo” is gets really, really weird. He ends up shaving part of his eyebrows (which is one of the oddest looking things I’ve seen in a long time), while Cece continues to whine about how she wants to know what her pogo is (like normal, non-Schmidt people would). The gang ends up telling and admitting to their “pogos” (Cece is a bit of a sass mouth, Schmidt has awful toe nails, Jess is a slight know-it-all, and Nick’s “pogo” isn’t funny: they’re worried he’s “not going to make it”). It all culminates in a great scene where all of them are confronting or have confronted their “pogos” while putting out a grease fire.

Despite what annoys us or bothers us about our friends, we like our friends and we enjoy their company. At the end of the day, we'll kiss and make up with those people important to us. New Girl has done enough groundwork to make it plausible that these characters would be openly discussing their "pogos" and then in turn making up as if it were no big deal.

Stray Observations:

-The “Annoying Bowl” – How epically awesome is that as a counterpart to the “Douche Jar”

-“He’s the first person I got to write in 1^st Person narrative” – And he wrote about murdering someone.

-Jess wonders what a gimp suit is, and Schmidt notes: “You’ve seen me in one before”

-“What’s my one rule?” Jess asks. Nick and Jess at the same time (with great line readings): “Don’t steal your yarn”

-Jess thinks of an alternative name for apricots: “sweet tangy balls”. Apparently she uses apricots too often in everyday life to use it as a “safe word”

-“They make shoes for penises. It’s called pants”

-Nick’s latest book he’s writing: “Julius Pepperwood: Zombie Detective”

Grade: A-