Once again proving my eerie prescience in the world of television criticism, the term I coined just a week ago--"Post-LOST America"--makes an appearance (more or less; they say "post-LOST world." I guess journalism at large is just that much more global than I am) in an actual, genuine, real-internet-world article.
I haven't seen The River. I don't expect I will ever see The River, because I imagine it will get canceled before I even have a chance to see it. That's the state of the world we live in: Every new pilot comes with a death sentence. If not after a few episodes, then most likely after the first season. Not that this is new or anything, mind you. Series that survive beyond a year are, and always have been, rarities, but it's at least a credit to the powers that be that more and more of them are getting at least a year to try something outside of the box.
Good luck, The River, and godspeed.
Showing posts with label eerie prescience. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eerie prescience. Show all posts
2.08.2012
4.19.2010
Sometimes The Blogs Just Write Themselves
These days, the only things I see that inspire me to write blogs are twofold: Lost and The Real World. And so instead of constantly writing about Lost and The Real World, I hesitated. I waited for the episode of either that best exemplified television watching at its finest. And it just so happened that The Real World's finale came first.1
This season of MTV's Ph.D-level dissertation/social experiment has proven to be a delight beyond measure after a rocky start not only for me, but for the housemates themselves. After bitter beginnings with The God Argument, The Don't-Beat-Me-I'm-Fragile Crusade, and The Nervous Breakdown, the remaining roommates have had a long enough stretch of peace to form the scar tissue of True Friendship. Through their collective sufferings and woes, these misfit toys banded together to prove to The Powers That Be that their Machiavellian meddling will not control them anymore! You couldn't buy a logline better than that. And with the clubhouse poison of Erika 'Milton Bradley' Rocker-Girl (never did find out her last name) out of the picture, the strong that survived came together tighter than drying rawhide. Their farewells were tearful, their last actions meaningful, their sorrow palpable. It was adorable. Like kids saying goodbye from summer camp adorable. They wrote on the walls, played a final (and especially 7th-grade-risque) game of truth or dare, and finally got really really fucked up (at least one of them did). And most importantly, Ol' Yellow Eyes (Callie) had an art show.
But first, some backstory from episodes lost in the abyss: The Boy Who Lies stopped lying long enough to get himself a real actual girl, not just a vagina with a torso and stems. Incredible, I know. This week we meet them in the throes of love's blossom and the wonderful Powers That Be felt them worthy for the happiest of endings. Despite initial dramatic pauses and important hesitation on whether he could handle it, Andrew agreed to have Andrea (seriously, this is not made up) move in with him, beyond the realm of The Real World, in the real world. I believe in them, their love is real.2 This newfound infatuation with the Greek goddess Andreathena, however, seriously diminishes his need to give a shit about anyone else. Callie asked him for a favor goddammit! Our Original Oh Yeah I Forgot About Her gathers the three artistes in the house--that is, herself, Andrew the cartoonist, and... Emily?... the... poet?--to display their corporate sponsored [Buy a Five Dollar Foot Long on any sub, that's right, ANY SUB. foralimitedtimeonly] personal vision of DC in a gallery. Of art. So goddamn Andrew better get goddamn painting. But in a beautiful moment of planting and pay-off, we hark back to Andrew's near-disastrous, short-lived political cartoon career. The man's a procrastinator--and I for one, can relate. I've been procrastinating this whole season.
So then Richard Alpert sez, he sez--oh wait, what show are we on?--So then Andrew does the paintings, but he's almost late, blah blah blah, just one last bit of drama where we learn characters like Andrew have bettered themselves oh-so-slightly from "a procrastinator who turns things in late" to "a procrastinator who turns things in with just enough time to let the ink dry;" Inspector Instigator even made a last villainous showing when he decided to say to Callie The Budding Yet Fragile-To-Criticism Photographer that anybody with a finger and an eyeball can take pictures. But again, The Inspector has gone from "instigates until he makes someone cry" to "instigate until you can say sorry and sound like you mean it." That, or everyone has just learned to ignore him. But in the end (or "in the deep end" as Ty or the proverbial She might say), the art is a success, if a little damp. She even sells some photos. So naturally, it's time to celebrate.
And celebrate they do, and the best bit of drunkenness of the year manifests in the form of The Formerly Bisexual But Now Pretty Much Gay Boy tease-boxing some guy literally called Hockey Guy and getting thrown into a wall. Now his nose is all busted! On the day his dad is coming to town! So they can both go to a fancy (and probably expensive! -- my occasionally Republican and entirely fictional editor) DC dinner party, featuring Obama appearance #2!3 Oh what a Marcia Brady conundrum! But luckily, he's the kind of man who's not afraid to wear make-up. You know, like Andrew. He goes to the dinner with his dad, and they fist bump and clap hands and jump up and down screaming "Barack!" in little girl voices, and all is going just dandy until, riding the high that comes with mob mentality, the FBBNPMGB accosts the most interesting protester ever to have his face blurred on television. I had no idea the Darwinists were against gay marriage. Apparently there are evolutionary zealots as well? But back to the accosting, the Darwinist is berated without a chance to retaliate and Mike's uncomfortable dad teaches his son a valuable lesson about giving each other a chance and he makes him apologize to the now wimpering Darwinist. Parents connected with while in DC: 2 of 2 for Mike!4
That means our final Oh Yeah I Forgot About Him goes to Lenny Kravitz, who didn't do much except look like a total badass by blowing off everyone in the house in his final goodbye confessional, instead saying that he'll be most thankful for his band. Peace out Lenny!
And slowly they trickle out, and you can tell how much they love each other by how hard they hug each other, until there are none left, only the voiceover of The Formerly Bisexual But Now Pretty Much Straight Girl, summing it all up with a "What I Learned..."moment. So in the end, it turns out, we found ourselves forged together in the fires of Calamity, we found out who we really are, we found True Love. All in all, not a bad social experiment.
----------
Postscript: The Reunion Show
It was exactly what you would expect. They bickered and laughed, and talked unironically of True Friendship and Love. Also, there was swearing. Liberal amounts of Friendship swearing. But overall, the same shit happened, rehashing the Big Events of the series and reinforcing the fact that none of these people will back down. Only Erika cried (big surprise), and it seemed like everyone settled back into their original roles, pre-Finale. The Bisexual Duo voraciously defended their bisexuality, Callie was sweetly naive (though it was tantalizingly hinted at that she may be a closet hipster?! Hipsters can't be nice Cal!), and Inspector Instigator was less a Snively Whiplash-scheming sort of villain than a Dastardly and Muttley-comedic sort of villain. The guy's never going to look good when he opens his mouth. But at least Andrew's True Love has continued post-camera-bombardment.
Somewhat sadly, the most interesting part was watching Andrew fidget in the background when the spotlight wasn't on him, because who gives a shit what you're all doing now that you're not on TV anymore. It was surprisingly unjuicy and anticlimactic overall, and their bickering felt as uncomfortable as it was way back in Week One, only this time, as I said, there was Friendship swearing. Maybe I should start watching The Real World/Road Rules Challenge: Fresh Meat 2 (quite the unruly title), because it looks like those people really know how to fuck each other up.
Addenda
This season of MTV's Ph.D-level dissertation/social experiment has proven to be a delight beyond measure after a rocky start not only for me, but for the housemates themselves. After bitter beginnings with The God Argument, The Don't-Beat-Me-I'm-Fragile Crusade, and The Nervous Breakdown, the remaining roommates have had a long enough stretch of peace to form the scar tissue of True Friendship. Through their collective sufferings and woes, these misfit toys banded together to prove to The Powers That Be that their Machiavellian meddling will not control them anymore! You couldn't buy a logline better than that. And with the clubhouse poison of Erika 'Milton Bradley' Rocker-Girl (never did find out her last name) out of the picture, the strong that survived came together tighter than drying rawhide. Their farewells were tearful, their last actions meaningful, their sorrow palpable. It was adorable. Like kids saying goodbye from summer camp adorable. They wrote on the walls, played a final (and especially 7th-grade-risque) game of truth or dare, and finally got really really fucked up (at least one of them did). And most importantly, Ol' Yellow Eyes (Callie) had an art show.
But first, some backstory from episodes lost in the abyss: The Boy Who Lies stopped lying long enough to get himself a real actual girl, not just a vagina with a torso and stems. Incredible, I know. This week we meet them in the throes of love's blossom and the wonderful Powers That Be felt them worthy for the happiest of endings. Despite initial dramatic pauses and important hesitation on whether he could handle it, Andrew agreed to have Andrea (seriously, this is not made up) move in with him, beyond the realm of The Real World, in the real world. I believe in them, their love is real.2 This newfound infatuation with the Greek goddess Andreathena, however, seriously diminishes his need to give a shit about anyone else. Callie asked him for a favor goddammit! Our Original Oh Yeah I Forgot About Her gathers the three artistes in the house--that is, herself, Andrew the cartoonist, and... Emily?... the... poet?--to display their corporate sponsored [Buy a Five Dollar Foot Long on any sub, that's right, ANY SUB. foralimitedtimeonly] personal vision of DC in a gallery. Of art. So goddamn Andrew better get goddamn painting. But in a beautiful moment of planting and pay-off, we hark back to Andrew's near-disastrous, short-lived political cartoon career. The man's a procrastinator--and I for one, can relate. I've been procrastinating this whole season.
So then Richard Alpert sez, he sez--oh wait, what show are we on?--So then Andrew does the paintings, but he's almost late, blah blah blah, just one last bit of drama where we learn characters like Andrew have bettered themselves oh-so-slightly from "a procrastinator who turns things in late" to "a procrastinator who turns things in with just enough time to let the ink dry;" Inspector Instigator even made a last villainous showing when he decided to say to Callie The Budding Yet Fragile-To-Criticism Photographer that anybody with a finger and an eyeball can take pictures. But again, The Inspector has gone from "instigates until he makes someone cry" to "instigate until you can say sorry and sound like you mean it." That, or everyone has just learned to ignore him. But in the end (or "in the deep end" as Ty or the proverbial She might say), the art is a success, if a little damp. She even sells some photos. So naturally, it's time to celebrate.
And celebrate they do, and the best bit of drunkenness of the year manifests in the form of The Formerly Bisexual But Now Pretty Much Gay Boy tease-boxing some guy literally called Hockey Guy and getting thrown into a wall. Now his nose is all busted! On the day his dad is coming to town! So they can both go to a fancy (and probably expensive! -- my occasionally Republican and entirely fictional editor) DC dinner party, featuring Obama appearance #2!3 Oh what a Marcia Brady conundrum! But luckily, he's the kind of man who's not afraid to wear make-up. You know, like Andrew. He goes to the dinner with his dad, and they fist bump and clap hands and jump up and down screaming "Barack!" in little girl voices, and all is going just dandy until, riding the high that comes with mob mentality, the FBBNPMGB accosts the most interesting protester ever to have his face blurred on television. I had no idea the Darwinists were against gay marriage. Apparently there are evolutionary zealots as well? But back to the accosting, the Darwinist is berated without a chance to retaliate and Mike's uncomfortable dad teaches his son a valuable lesson about giving each other a chance and he makes him apologize to the now wimpering Darwinist. Parents connected with while in DC: 2 of 2 for Mike!4
That means our final Oh Yeah I Forgot About Him goes to Lenny Kravitz, who didn't do much except look like a total badass by blowing off everyone in the house in his final goodbye confessional, instead saying that he'll be most thankful for his band. Peace out Lenny!
And slowly they trickle out, and you can tell how much they love each other by how hard they hug each other, until there are none left, only the voiceover of The Formerly Bisexual But Now Pretty Much Straight Girl, summing it all up with a "What I Learned..."moment. So in the end, it turns out, we found ourselves forged together in the fires of Calamity, we found out who we really are, we found True Love. All in all, not a bad social experiment.
----------
Postscript: The Reunion Show
It was exactly what you would expect. They bickered and laughed, and talked unironically of True Friendship and Love. Also, there was swearing. Liberal amounts of Friendship swearing. But overall, the same shit happened, rehashing the Big Events of the series and reinforcing the fact that none of these people will back down. Only Erika cried (big surprise), and it seemed like everyone settled back into their original roles, pre-Finale. The Bisexual Duo voraciously defended their bisexuality, Callie was sweetly naive (though it was tantalizingly hinted at that she may be a closet hipster?! Hipsters can't be nice Cal!), and Inspector Instigator was less a Snively Whiplash-scheming sort of villain than a Dastardly and Muttley-comedic sort of villain. The guy's never going to look good when he opens his mouth. But at least Andrew's True Love has continued post-camera-bombardment.
Somewhat sadly, the most interesting part was watching Andrew fidget in the background when the spotlight wasn't on him, because who gives a shit what you're all doing now that you're not on TV anymore. It was surprisingly unjuicy and anticlimactic overall, and their bickering felt as uncomfortable as it was way back in Week One, only this time, as I said, there was Friendship swearing. Maybe I should start watching The Real World/Road Rules Challenge: Fresh Meat 2 (quite the unruly title), because it looks like those people really know how to fuck each other up.
Addenda
- Yeah, it came first like two weeks ago, apologies for the constant delays here. ↑
- This newfound belief in the wondrous machinations of The World's Greatest Social Experiment ties into the housemates as well, as my relationship with them grew as they grew with each other. And when clubhouse poison Erika 'Barry Bonds' Rocker-Girl left, we were all free to let loose and have fun with each other. I felt like I was 13 again. ↑
- At which point I had one of those sublime moments of realization and appreciation of the time we live in, where historic things are happening, in a country emerging from a time of hopeless dark despair and moving into a future once again filled with possibility rather than more of the same. Yes, The Real World made me remember that it's a good time to be alive. If that doesn't prove a.) the show's relevance, and b.) how far I've come in this season of nonsense, then I can't do anything more for you. ↑
- Though his political hopes might be dashed by the previously mentioned drunken tickle-fight that resulted in a nose gash, which was broadcast on national television. But then again, without the national television part, would he have had the opportunities to participate in the politicking that solidified the dream in the first place? A real monkey's paw situation indeed--wait, am I talking about Lost again? ↑
2.22.2010
Recap Recap: Watch Me Watch You Watch Me Watch Others Watch
The Present
- The Real World
The Real World has been wayyy too postmodern for me. It seems like every wanton epithet I attached to each housemate is accurate to the point of insanity. These people are not people; they are avatars3 of the darkest recesses of the human experience, and they all FUCKING LIVE TOGETHER. They continue to fight about things that make us sad, instead of fighting about ridiculous nonsense that makes us laugh. Dark secrets like physical abuse, depression/suicide/homelessness, or being a horrible singer seem to come out of the woodwork over seemingly innocent things like pizza, laser tag and being bisexual, and it's really bringing me down. At least no one's been carried out on a stretcher yet. That's next week. Can't somebody just get too drunk and make out with somebody else's crush?!
- Lost
Three truths: John Locke episodes are always the best. Kate episodes are usually the worst. This season of Lost is shaping up to be a doozy.
Instead of spelling everything out for us like I imagine a lot of people wanted them to, the writing staff has chosen to be as cryptic as ever, perhaps the most they've ever been since season one, and instead of infuriating me, I'm enthralled.4 New mysteries abound, mysteries that are have been steeping in old mysteries like darjeeling and go down just as sweetly, mysteries that I am still profoundly confident will tie together in the most elaborate bow the world has ever seen. The Glimpses get more and more intriguing as things get intertwined to Crash-like levels (for better or worse), and it's beyond even any hint of possibility that they don't know exactly what they're doing. How could they not?
- The Sopranos
I sadly remain stalled at episode 4 of season 1 here, mostly because new television has dominated my attention too much to be reliving the past.5 I hope to continue on my inhuman quest to chronicle the chronicles of Tony Soprano, but only time will tell. Sadly, I sense that my initial hesitation toward the show is flaring up, because there's not much of an urge to jump back in just yet.
- Carnivàle
The same cannot be said for Carnivàle however, but since the return of Lost, there's not much room in the metaphysical sections of my brain for another show whose answers are buried in mythology and symbolism. Plus the fact that I know I'll never actually get any answers for this show makes me reluctant to get involved when there's answers to be had on another show at the moment. But at the same time, I have been endlessly intrigued by this show, and its imagery is astoundingly evocative of the time it represents. I anxiously await the day after the Lost finale, when my brain can once again handle being perplexed on this kind of level.
- Caprica
The pilot of the prequel series to Battlestar Galactica was surprisingly good, mostly because it actually managed to feel like a different show while maintaining the world already established by BSG. It's a testament to Ron D. Moore's world-building abilities that Caprica actually evokes a sense of the past of a fictional (sort of?) universe, and I'm excited to see what disturbingly close-to-home scenarios this series can give us like BSG was so good at doing. I've only seen the two hour pilot and the next episode, "Rebirth," but I'll be making sure to find time to catch up at some point soon. The acting is exceptional, especially for SyFy standards, and the themes are fascinating enough to keep me on the hook for a good while to come. Let's just hope it doesn't get canceled first.
- Archer
The only reason I even wanted to watch Archer in the first place is because of H. Jon Benjamin. I would venture to call him a "voice acting legend" but only because of the memories of giggling to the point of pain at every line Coach McGuirk uttered on Home Movies. Also, can I just say: Assy McGee. The man is funny. So the voice alone was enough to get me to watch the first two episodes, and I wasn't entirely disappointed. While not quite up to the absurdity level of Space Ghost or any of the other various Adult Swim programming he's appeared in (and really, how could it be?), the show is consistently funny, and it's good to know Aisha Tyler still has work somewhere.6 Plus, Jessica Walter (aka Lucille Bluth). Is that enough for you? No? Okay, well Adam Reed, the creator, also happened to create Sealab 20217, a show so far out there you might as well quit the race. It's got potential, and I want to see it through.
Addenda
- Any sport that requires a gun strapped to your back will be watched by me, every time. But NBC's so-called "coverage" of these Winter Games should and could be a topic here in its own right. ↑
- Which is and always will be a danger here. ↑
- No, not Avatars, though the jumps in what should be normal human logic are equally ridiculous. ↑
- Relieving my fear that I was going down the dark and dangerous path of being a fanboy. Glad to see I'm not a fanboya, just a fan. ↑
- Albeit for the first time. ↑
- I guess. ↑
- As well as Frisky Dingo, which I've never seen, but heard is similarly harebrained. ↑
- Intern wanted -- unpaid, uncredited, unappreciated, but hey, maybe you'll get to watch TV with me. But only if you pay for the pizza and beer. ↑ Additional Addenda
- Fanboy -- n. one who thinks that by merely committing unwarrented and exorbitant amounts of time to a product, brand, or work, one is somehow entitled to think that one knows better than the creators of said product/brand/work and how said p/b/w should be handled ↑
1.17.2010
The Real World: The Weight Episode
Dear Diary,
It's me, Callie. Remember me? I'm the blonde girl. I write in you all the time. Anyway, I had an awful week. It seemed like everyone was focused on weight issues all week, and as you know diary, I hate weight issues, because I have them! It felt like everyone was talking about each other's bodies behind our backs and sneaking peeks at each other in the shower. I wonder if that glass is as clouded as I think it is. The cameramen wouldn't be in the bathroom with me otherwise, would they?
I just thought everyone knew how sensitive I am about weight and fitness, given how many interesting and varied ways we like to work out, and how often we like to do it. I mean, this week alone we went to the gym, did a kickboxing class (I think Emily and Ty liked that one a lot), and some sort of variation on Flirty Girl Fitness where we danced and laughed and shook our booties to lose our love handles. It's almost as if no one realized how often we were working out, because it seemed like every other second, there we were, back in the gym!
But then it happened Diary. Ty (the black guy, who is a lot meaner than the ones on TV. I'm from a small town!) said I couldn't be in Playboy. He totally crushed my dreams of ever being naked in a magazine! But I bet now that it's been on TV and us girls had our Really Important Talk about girls and eating disorders and things like that I'm totally gonna get a call from Hef tomorrow! I don't think Ty realizes how much of jerk he is sometimes. He says he's "never had roommates" before, but come on, I'm from a small town and even I have common social etiquette! In fact, if I had put money on it, I would have guessed Andrew would have been the one to say something totally rude and offensive, because he says rude, offensive things all the time! I wonder if he's still in love with me, because I'm just feeling so vulnerable right now Diary. These people are mostly awful, and Ty is just... I don't know, he's just an Instigator, you know? What an ass. Anyway, Ty apologized (but I didn't really understand what he meant about trying to "check" me? I guess I was getting too many compliments and he wanted to make sure I wasn't getting too cocky.) and things are okay for now. Talk to you again soon Diary!
xoxo, Callie (the blonde one, remember? The one from a small town?)
----
I found that under a pile of True Life reruns and old, musty music videos the other day. Sounds like a rough week for the housemates! And yes, you read that right, Inspector Instigator defended himself like a true sleazebag by first saying, "Hey, it's true, you can't be in Playboy, and I'm just telling the truth, so why are you mad?" and then saying Callie was getting a big head and he had to keep her in check, which is the wildest, pulled-out-of-the-deepest-recesses-of-the-ass excuse I have ever heard ever. The Virgin might be The Boy Who Lies, but The Black Guy is The Boy Who Lies To Himself. He actually tried to justify hitting a girl this week. Inspector Instigator is now officially The Villain (Boo! Hiss!).
I once again prove myself eerily prescient in my initial response to Ty as Inspector Instigator, because after setting off the Great God Debate1, I-Squared sparks off the second Big Issue Episode by making a comment about somebody's weight. So naturally, even before the fat-bomb was dropped, everyone conveniently brings up the topic of body image, independently of each other mostly. First Lenny Kravitz and The Virgin talk about who has the "best body" in the house (which, you know, is a totally non-shallow question), then Bisexual Girl and Pisco talk about how they could stand to lose a few pounds in front of Blondie, who takes issue because she is obviously the overweight one (but telegenically overweight) and hence the seed is planted. And of course it's Ty (though much like Callie in her diary, I was banking on it being Andrew, because he just doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut most of the time) who brings Callie's whole carefully crafted self-image crashing down like a fat guy falling down the steps.
And that's not all he's up to this week. The Black Guy and Bisexual Girl's relationship continued to teeter on the brink of abject destruction until Mr. Villain (Boo! Hiss!) completely loses his mind, and any semblance of what used to be just a bad relationship was replaced with a strange mother-son/therapist-patient/serial killer-victim association.2 The two eventually end up just screaming at each other in front of the rest of the housemates (who watch happily, like Romans in the Coliseum taking bets), and all those kickboxing classes come in handy when somehow they challenge each other to feats of strength, begin to wrestle, and finally stop only when Bisexual Girl spits in Ty's face. These people are delightful together, and should probably be married.3
So yes, once again the conflicts this week were mostly instigated by that Master of Inflammation, that Inspector of Instigation, our illustrious Villain (Boo! Hiss!), The Black Guy. At least until next week, when the Villain-in-Waiting, The Episcopalian (doesn't that sound like an awesome villain name?) makes the mistake of judging the Bisexual Boy by his cover. Stop being so self-aware guys, it's getting you in trouble!4
Addenda
- In another meta-tastic moment, someone even mentions the Jesus teams and how the house is already divided on the issue. Everyone is so postmodern this season!↑
- I feel the need to take the time here and address what appears to be some deep-seated insecurities in our Villain (Boo! Hiss!). It is apparent that Ty is hyper-dependent on other people to validate himself, and when they don't accommodate him, he flips faster than one of those little toy wind-up dogs. An actual exchange between Ty and BSG:
Ty: "Be honest with me!"
BSG: "I am being hon--"
Ty: "Shut up!"
He's also the biggest coward in the world, as evidenced by him meekly backing away as BSG screams at him to stop being a huge pussy and just leave her alone about whatever it is he thought she did to him. She literally chased him all the way across the room, and he didn't say a word.↑ - I should also take the time to point out BSG's own insecurities, which have been obvious since the first episode. After being raised in a cult, she escaped and became a bisexual and got some piercings.a Problem with authority much? And Ty being about the most pathetically/passively authoritative (which boggles the mind in its paradoxical complexity) person on the planet, you can see why this is a match made in hell. But what is normal reality's "hell" is reality television's heaven.↑
- Three weeks in a row now that The Girl Who Sings is an Oh Yeah, I Forgot About Her, but hey, next time don't go to bed before the spit-fight starts! Also, Lenny Kravitz, you're supposed to be the cool guy, stop making me forget about you.↑
- (Side note: she still doesn't seem all that bisexual to me, and this quote doesn't help: "He [Ty]'s going to flirt with other girls, and I'm going to flirt with other guys." Emphasis mine, and maybe a little ostensible, but the whole thing reeks of rebellious desperation to me)↑
Additional Addenda
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