I May Destroy You (2020)

Michaela Coel is undeniably brilliant. She is uncompromising in her bold vision. Her characters say and do things that no one else would get away with. She creates complex, imperfect, messy characters. Arabella is a promising if unproductive writer. Terry is her sometimes overbearing ride-or-die. Kwame is an unassuming sex addict. Coel is indeed so uncompromising that it is sometimes hard to sympathize. Even when they do the right thing, when Terry unflinchingly supports her friend's self-care routine for instance, they do it in such a way that may actually be harmful.  She resists clear answers, preferring to explore the ambiguities for moral righteousness that perhaps doesn't exist. This makes I May Destroy You a challenging watch. It is not immediately accessible but it is ultimately rewarding. Coel probes several variations on the theme of consent, as well as others. The themes are both universal and culturally specific to the black British experience. She loses me a bit in the middle episodes, but she absolutely nails the landing. The last two episodes are excellent. The finale puts the title I May Destroy You into perspective. I hadn't given that qualifier a second thought until it became clear what it meant. Arabella plays through several different scenarios in her head, some of which involve her destroying her rapist (raper in British English). But in a fitting ending, she learns how to move on.

Wandavision (2021)

Wandavision ushers in a new era, not only for the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), but for television itself. It is the first must-see TV since Game of Thrones. It's what everyone is talking about (online, but maybe we would have discussed in person if not for the pandemic). It was appointment viewing, week to week, liable to crash Disney+ more than once. Everyone had to watch soon so as to avoid spoilers. Of course, because the miniseries is not standalone, we have to watch if we're to follow the increasingly complex MCU plot. A couple dozen movies in, it's too late to quit now. So in that way too, though it's not the first Marvel television show, it is the first for Marvel Studios, making viewing as required as with the blockbuster movies that have defined a generation of movie-going.  

 

It is fitting that this landmark sitcom pays homage to the sitcoms of yesteryear. I think the creative experimentation that makes the show unique is its strongest feature. The first couple episodes sending up the sitcoms of the 50s and 60s are the best, before the show dives deep into the MCU lore. Elizabeth Olson especially plays the 50s housewife very convincingly, and later plays Claire Dunphy from Modern Family spot on too. Sitcom actors Randall Park and Kat Dennings both add comic relief in their supporting roles. With each new era, the set changes, the costumes change, the fake "commercials" change, the songs and opening titles change (Kristen Anderson Lopez and Robert Lopez are on fire) and even the comedy changes. Though the sitcom is a universal genre, our comedic tastes have evolved over the decades. And I quite liked the clever reveal about how American sitcoms comforted Wanda in her Sokovian childhood. It was natural that she would turn to them in her period of grief. Indeed, the central theme of the show is grief, perhaps unusual for the superhero genre.

The Night Of (2016)

The word that immediately comes to mind is harrowing. It's just absolutely devastating. The first episode is especially tense. My fists were clenched the whole episode in dread and anticipation. The brilliance of The Night Of is that despite the mood of impending doom that pervades the whole series, there are moments of levity. Morgan drew a good comparison to the Good Wife, with its eccentric cast of recurring lawyers and judges (John Turturro is great fun).  I think the obvious comparison is to When They See Us, also about the false accusation of a young man of color in the murder of a white woman and an ensuing look at the New York criminal justice system. He is first prosecuted in the media, and then he is forced to learn to adapt to prison life. Riz Ahmed is transformative as Nasir. He's one of the most exciting young actors today. The standard of proof in a criminal case is beyond a reasonable doubt. To me, there was plenty of room for doubt, but I was sure the jury wouldn't see it (Though the mystery is resolved by the end, it's never really about who did it. It's about whether the system will punish him anyways). I was expecting that kind of devastating ending. I was so relieved when the jury declared a mistrial and the prosecutor did the right thing. Her closing statement was rife with tension, unsure if she'd follow through on what she knew to be wrong. That said, the trial seemed unrealistic, but better for TV. It seemed like a lot of the discovery was unreasonably late, and the direct examinations sounded more like cross.
 

Sharp Objects (2018)

Yes, there is a twist at the end. No, the preceding episodes are not worth the payoff. The first six episodes are excruciatingly slow and uneventful. The last two episodes pick up, but it is already too late. All of the characters are unlikable creepy crazies. It is very dark. The whole rural southern gothic vibe is quite off-putting, as is the racism and homophobia and Confederacy paraphernalia. The twist is good but it's so last minute that we don't actually get enough explanation to be satisfied. We don't get her motivations, or how the cheerleader is involved, or how she's so freakishly strong.  The editing style was too quick for me. There are lots of hidden words that I missed. There are time jumps that are not clear cause Amy Adams looks exactly the same. There are short hallucinations that are easy to miss. We often don't know what we're seeing. It's all intentionally disorienting and I don't like being disoriented. The music choices are interesting. Why do they use the wistful Umbrellas of Cherbourg, a beautiful, colorful French musical? It doesn't fit at all.

Pretend It's a City (2021)

Fran Lebowitz is my spirit animal. She is the quintessential New Yorker. I know her humor isn't for everyone but I could listen to her complain all day. She's incisive and she's usually right. And I love how much Martin Scorsese adores her too. This is his second documentary on Fran. He laughs at her quips along with the us. This works as a series, as we see recurring footage that works in multiple contexts.

The Wire (2002-8)

David Simon landmark series holds up in the waning years of the Golden era of television. The technology may be outdated by now, but the drama is timeless. Simon pioneered bingeable television (along with the Sopranos, I suppose), plotting a mystery to unfold over the course of a whole season. And today in the streaming era, every TV show worth its salt has an overarching plot. Some may criticize him for being slow, but it's a methodical slow burn that allows for deep characterization of even secondary characters. We come to know not just the cops, not just the head honcho drug dealers but even the street level kids (a very young Michael B Jordan). His sense of realism comes through in his unknown actors, character actors, non-actors, and many real Baltimoreans. The show is about characters who are trapped by the institutions (a set of rules) that plague the city.

The Wire is Simon's love letter to Baltimore. It may not always seem that way given all the crime and corruption he highlights but indeed it is. No city has ever gotten such a thorough treatment on TV, exposing its underbelly. He doesn't do it out of malice or hatred but he genuinely believes that it can do better. Despite the specificity, it could have been about any city because in general terms it is about the decline of the American city. Other cities also have drug problems, docks, corrupt city government, schools, and print media. He would give post-Katrina New Orleans a similar treatment in Treme, but Simon has a personal connection to Baltimore. He (and writer Ed Burns) have first hand experience about the things they write (the Baltimore Police and the Baltimore Sun).

Seasons 3 and 4 are the strongest. Simon's analysis on the flaws in our education system is brilliant. I thought season 2 at the docks was kind of weak while watching it but in retrospect it was also very good. There are so many characters and by the end I felt like we got satisfactory closure on each one. It was kind of weird that McNulty doesn't feature much in season 4, but honestly, it's all the better without him. His twisted story line in season 5 is probably the weakest, most cynical (most ironic).

The Queen's Gambit (2020)

The Queen's Gambit is a very watchable limited series that manages to make chess engaging. That's no small feat. This will be the cause of a whole new generation of chess fans. Funnily enough, it succeeds by not explaining any of the chess whatsoever. That way, novices who don't know the first thing about chess aren't left out. But people that do understand some chess don't have anything to follow either. The drama is not in the tactics of chess. They discuss strategy without explaining the strategy. She moves a piece but it doesn't mean anything to us. She just looks good doing it. I do feel like there was a missed opportunity to contextualize the movie more in the Cold War. The final episode sets up Chekov's gun that never goes off; Borgov makes two unexpected moves in the game, potentially a signal that he wants to defect, as the State Department official had warned Beth to be on the lookout for, but they never play that out.

Anya Taylor-Joy is magnetic. The whole show does have an amazing look. The Sixties set pieces and costumes are luscious. Beth criss-crosses the globe like she's in a spy movie (but again the Cold War spies don't really factor in). I love the visual of the imaginary chess pieces on the ceiling. The camera sometimes sits right behind the upside-down piece so you get something like an over-the-shoulder shot where you see a fraction of the rook or knight in the foreground--it's an interesting choice.