Friday, August 31, 2018

Critics Are All Right, Part 2: The Peabodys

One is reluctant to call the Peabody Awards as coming lately to the entertainment field. After all, they have been in existence since well before television was barely an idea in those that ran it.
But as the world of television evolved, slowly the Peabodys have as well. They also recognized shows like Twin Peaks and China Beach, Homicide, and series that fell through the cracks like Northern Exposure and Nothing Sacred. It recognized Boomtown and Deadwood, and went to even greater lengths recognizing Brotherhood, one of the most underviewed great programs of all time. And while it did acknowledge hipper shows like Glee and Mad Men,  it also acknowledged series like In Treatment ,Men of a Certain Age and Treme. And for those who wonder why no one acknowledged series like Southland and Broadchurch, Jane the Virgin and Rectify, the Peabodys were more than willing to do the work.
In recent years, they've been more inclined to honor entertainment shows than before. In 2015, they acknowledged Jessica Jones and UnREAL, Master of None and Transparent.  In 2016, they recognized Better Things and Atlanta, as well as Horace &Pete.
And for 2017, they recognized Better Call Saul, Insecure, American Vandal (which now I definitely have to watch, considering its been green-lit for a second season.) and A Series of Unfortunate Events.  Their candidates for Best Drama and Best Comedy may be disappoining - they picked The Handmaids Tale and Marvelous Mrs. Maisel - but I'm not entirely clear what their time frame, and they definitely don't seem to be including 2018 as part of their calendar. Plus they do seem to have a better grip of late night - they've recognized Saturday Night Live and Last Week Tonight With John Oliver which definitely seems right.

If anything, trying to acknowledge which series the Peabodys will be recognizing will be easier from this point out, considering that beginning with 2014 they decided to announce winners by category rather than en masse. And the fact that they now are being broadcast by PBS -  a service that has received more than its fair share of recognition from them over the years - may finally give some exposure to an award that people might have heard of but know nothing about. But any awards that are willing to recognize Key & Peele, The Knick, and Adventure Time can't be considered homogenized. I look forward to seeing what they come up with for 2018.

Thursday, August 30, 2018

These Critics Are All Right, Part 1: TCA

As those of you who have been following my column are well aware, I love award shows. Sometimes, I tend to enjoy the nominations more than the actual awards - there are no winners yet, and there is no heartbreak.
But, like so many critics, I often get frustrated by the fact that year after year, the same series tend to get recognized by Emmys, and some of the better series fall completely off the radar. It's one of the reasons I am grateful for the Golden Globes and, more recently, the Broadcast Critics. They have a tendency to be more open-minded and at least acknowledge some of the better series that don't get mentioned. What I was relatively unaware of was that there were two other major groups that have been giving awards for TV series for a significant period of time that I have basically ignored, the former because I'd never heard of them, and the latter because, while they have been doing good work, entertainment television has mostly been on their back burner.
So, with less than three weeks to go before the Emmys, I thought that it might not be a bad idea to give recognition to those that give recognition themselves, mostly because, as a critic, I feel a certain kinship with both groups.
The Television Critics Association is a group that, frankly, I had heard nothing about. In one sense, they are a fairly narrow group. They give awards for Dramas, Comedies,  News and Information, Movies, Mini-Series & Specials, and categories that sound like runners up like Best New Series or Show of the Year, But they only give awards for Outstanding Individual Achievement in each category, no differentiating between male and female, lead and supporting.
But in a larger sense, they have been far more inclusive than the Emmys have ever been, recognizing series that they have to obtuse to recognize, and giving notice to some series that should have gotten more awards then they did. In Drama, for example, they recognized Homicide: Life on the Street, my personal candidate for best show of the 1990s for three consecutive years. They also acknowledged series who star shone too briefly, like My So-Called Life, Twin Peaks, Boomtown and I'll Fly Away. And they acknowledged some series that visited the Emmys frequently but couldn't take home the big prize, such as St. Elsewhere, Six Feet Under, and The Good Wife.
They've also demonstrated remarkable vision when it comes to comedy. The Larry Sanders Show was recognized. So were Sports Night, Malcolm in the Middle and Parks & Recreation. They've also shown the good sense to recognize black-ish and The Big Bang Theory.
You'd think their limitations on acknowledging only a single actor for Individual Achievement would limit them. Yet even there they've shown some genuine brilliance. They gave Andre Braugher their first two awards for Homicide.  They acknowledged Michael C. Hall, Hugh Laurie, Ian McShane for Deadwood, Matthew McConaughey for True Detective and Carrie Coon last year for her dual turn in Fargo and The Leftovers. They showed less versatility in comedy, but they did recognize the late Bernie Mac, Nick Offerman, Amy Schumer and Rachel Bloom.
And they've shown remarkable farsightedness in other categories. In New Program, they recognized Ally McBeal to Glee to Orange is the New Black to This Is Us. But they also acknowledged Gilmore Girls, My Name is Earl, and Friday Night Lights. And Program of the Year often serves alternately as recognition of new shows, like Desperate Housewives and Heroes, but they've also acknowledged Battlestar Galactica.
Which brings us, at last, to this year recipients. Now, the TCA, like the Critics Choice has always been an enthusiastic backer of The Americans. They picked as the best new series of 2012-2013. They acknowledged it as Outstanding Drama for 2014-2015 & 2015-2016. But in its final season, they showed it a huge amount of love. They named it Outstanding Drama for the third time, only the fourth series to win at least three awards. They gave their Outstanding Dramatic Performance to Keri Russell.  And their pick for Program of the Year was The Americans. Not Game of Thrones, not The Handmaid's Tale. The Americans.
I know better than most that critics opinions of what is the best series of the year rarely count for much, unless the series is The Sopranos or Breaking Bad.  But considering that the episode that the producers submitting was almost certainly the last one, and considering that one was probably the highpoint of the entire 2017-2018 season... just saying.
Outstanding Comedy was a little harder to measure. I am immensely gratified that the Critics acknowledged how truly and utterly great  The Good Place is, I just wish the Emmy voters could've been persuaded to see things the same way. And I'm not horribly shocked that they chose to give the Outstanding Achievement in Comedy prize to Rachel Brosnahan for Marvelous Mrs Maisel, because that's definitely what she is. And the TCA, unlike every other award show until now, knows just how brilliant the Palladino's are. (They recognized Bunheads too.)
And I am encouraged by the fact that their choice for Best New Program was BBC Americas's Killing Eve,. Now I definitely have to get caught up. And its pretty clear that Assassination of Gianni Versace is the Mini-Series to beat.

Suddenly, I'm kicking myself for not even knowing the TCA ever existed before now. They look and sound like they'd really be my friends. I look forward to seeing what they will do next year.

Saturday, August 25, 2018

Homicide Episode Guide: Wanted Dead or Alive, Part 1

Written by James Yoshimura
Directed by Robert Harmon

When I first saw this episode nearly twenty years ago, I considered the absolute nadir of Homicide's entire run, a complete and utter disregard for everything the series had stood for when it premiered. In retrospect, that's a little ridiculous - we did, after all, have the squadroom shootout just a few months ago - and the episode itself is a bit better than I remembered I. But just as The Twenty Percent Solution seemed like it would have never come from David Simon's pen, its even harder to believe that this is the work of the same man who brought us The Subway. There's so much action, backbiting and sex going on that it really seems like we're stuck in a syndicated series from the nineties rather than one that got three Peabody's.
To be fair, most of the violence has nothing to do with the detectives themselves. The opening sequence, when three bounty hunters try to grab up a fugitive, and end up killing a man seems utterly out of place for this series. The writers back away from it quite a bit by having Falsone and Stivers go after the bounty hunters quite hard. There's clearly an animosity between the squads, and there's actually an interesting touch considering that Sheppard, who came from fugitive, where she would work closely with them, is the only one to treat them with a modicum of respect. Giardello is openly hostile to them, and thinks they have run roughshod over the city, and they act without boundaries. He has no problem with the shooter being charged with manslaughter, and very clearly wants to throw the book at his colleagues.
There is a certain degree of subtlety with the bounty hunters that I didn't notice as first, particular Chris Meloni as Dennis Snow. Initially coming off as a stupid redneck, he has a certain charm to him that might work on his clients (but not on the detectives). Meloni had just begun his stint on Oz as bi-sexual serial killer Chris Keller and one could see this role as sort of a way station between Keller and Detective Stabler on Law & Order SVU the following year. But it's sort of diminished by the southern accent which he can't quite master.  The episode also tries to grant fairness to the job by having Sheppard relate a story in which Snow managed to get a fugitive out of a violent situation with nobody getting hurt, as well as point out the ridiculous disparities in pay between a bounty hunter and a Baltimore cop.
if the episode had stayed with the subtlety, it probably would've been more engaging. But for some reason, Yoshimura is fixated on the action instead of the story, and ends the episode with a three minute car chase that ends with a crash that puts Meldrick's life in jeopardy. Do we really have to go through this again? We're a step away from turning into Hawaii Five-O.
Normally, when the front story is this awkward, one hopes that their would be some subplots that would be more interesting. The most interesting one occurs when stinkbug Gaffney tries to do a magazine puff piece on Mike and Al, mainly in regard to last week's mass poisoning case. Al, understandably, gets pissed and dismisses the idea. Gaffney then goes to Mike behind his father's back, trying to undermine his job with the squad and the detectives themselves. Had the series tried to follow through with this it might have been interesting, but the storyline is basically discarded.
The other major storylines involve Gharty in some way, and neither is encouraging. Stu is recovering from a night of boozing with Falsone, and can't remember how he got home. Munch's idea about how he'd handle the divorce are accurate, until he eventually becomes just short of a drunk. But even worse, comes the story when Gharty boasts about his days in Vietnam. Munch happens to overhear him, and starts going into a rant about how bad the war was. This rant continues when he and Bayliss go to the ME's. This is par for the course for Munch. But then, he starts going after Gharty record as a cop. Now I'll admit, for those of us who've been following his career, it hasn't been a shining example of great police work. But Munch has had no problem with it until now. And to go against a man who took a bullet six months ago is even more offensive. It leads to Gharty going after Bayliss, just because he's Munch's partner, and the two have an even bigger tiff at the Waterfront. I'm willing to forgive this mess because there will be a payoff, but it seems kind of ridiculous for that much anger to be going on between two men who have mostly gotten along until now.
Then of course, there's the ongoing sinkhole that is the Ballard-Falsone romance. Ballard has gone off to Seattle in regard to some kind of personal problem, which seems to lead to a discussion about Ballard as a sexual being, and Falsone admitting he spent the night with her. These are details I could've lived without, but we're going to get visuals very soon. Ick.

On top of all the misery that we've had to go through with this episode, Wanted Dead or Alive ends on a cliffhanger, which frankly the series has never quite done well, and hasn't really needed too for the majority of its two-parters. I realize this story has a lot of loose ends that couldn't be tied up in a single episode, but this is the first one in a long time that I really wasn't looking forward to see what happened next week. This may not be the worst episode of the series, but its by far the weakest multi-part.
My score: 2 stars.

Monday, August 20, 2018

Series with A Secure Future: Insecure Season 3 Review

One of the greater joys of this years Emmy nominations was Issa Rae receiving a much deserved Best Actress in A Comedy nod for her brilliant work on that rarest of things, an undervalued HBO comedy series. Insecure deals with the life of Issa Dee, a twentyish African-American woman who has been trying to make the right decision in work and life, and keeps failing at both. It sort of came to a climax at the end of last season where, after complaining to her boss about the level of racism at her job, she got demoted, her relationship with on-again, off again slacker Lawrence finally imploded, and she moved in with her former friend Daniel at the end.
If anything, things seem to be getting even worse for Issa this season. She is so desperate to move out of Daniel's house (where she is helpless to hear him noisily screw his girlfriend) that she has taken up a job as an Uber driver, where we learn there are worse things that can happen than a pickup vomiting in the backseat. Her boss refuses to even listen to her suggestions about how to fix things at the educational assistance program "We Got This", which is now getting racist complaints about its logo even from white people. Her credit score is so bad that her financial assistant is saying that she's established  a level of credit below 'bad' just called 'Issa', and suggests performing sexual favors on Daniel, just to keep from paying rent at Daniel's apartment.  Even the self-styled slams she does in her head seem to smack of desperation these days.
Things are only going marginally better for her friends. Molly (Yvonne Orji) has just started a job at new all-black firm, and is the middle of a relationship with a handsome man with an open marriage. "I thought that was something only white people did," Issa says talking it over. And Daniel is having trouble getting his music career going, mainly because his agents keep bringing in women he slept with as talent. His relationship with his new girlfriend is getting more complicated, because of the fact he's cohabiting with Issa, and its not going to get any easier now that they're sharing a bed (but not sleeping together yet)
If there's a complaint to be had with Insecure, its that it often tries to do too many things at once. No doubt some fans of the series are still wondering where the hell Lawrence is, or even if he'll show up again. But Rae remains a force of nature, someone with just as good a rhythm for the black female voice as Donald Glover has for the black male voice. I'm nowhere near the demographic for this series, but you can recognize genius even whatever form it takes. I'm glad Rae got her first nomination this year. I know its the first of many.
My score: 4.25 stars.


Saturday, August 18, 2018

Homicide Episode Guide: Red, Red Wine

Written by Sara B. Charno
Directed by Ed Bianchi

Well, we're getting better by increments at least.
In many ways, this episode is a strange beast. Usually, Homicide's stories that deal with serial killers are among the least realistic. This one works a bit better because there are at least a couple of shifts. The deaths are not showy, they are brought to the attention of the detectives by the ME's office instead - they are poisonings that nearly slipped by under the guise of influenza. (There's also a subtle nod to this by having a couple of the detectives suffering from the flu as the episode progresses.) The realization that this is the work of a mass murder is interesting, because the killer is clearly doing this under the guise of not being found out, which goes against the grain of a lot of murderers.
This story also benefits by having the newcomers to the series do some of their best work so far. Because Munch is at the doctor (we'll get to that) Bayliss teams up with Sheppard to begin the investigation. Frankly, Secor and Michele have a better back and forth than he has with Belzer, and it works to the episode advantage. There's definitely a quasi-flirtation going on for some of the episode (the fact that it takes place in a cemetery is a nice touch for the series), but they also work surprisingly well as a team. Bayliss has been painted as the rookie for so long, its rather fascinating to see Tim now as the veteran detective, and its long overdue for the series.
But even better is how Mike Gee ends up being utilized in the investigation. When it becomes clear that is going to be a red ball, the local feds get involved, and put Mike at the head of the investigation. Now its clear that Al would never get along with any body who takes charge over him, but he clearly chafes at the idea of his son being put in charge. And when it becomes clear that the poison is being distributed through wine, he looks at this more as an issue for the greater good over keeping the investigation in control. It's bad enough that he challenges his son over this in private, but when he chooses to go to Dawn Daniels, who has been sniffing around the story since the beginning, it becomes even messier. Al had gone against the bosses to the press repeatedly over the course of the series, and its always been painted as the right thing. This is the first time we actually see the negative connotations of what Al has been doing all these years, as hospitals get filled up and people start staying away from bars. When Mike calls him on it, his reaction is to sanguinely go home, as if none of this is his concern. We're so used to seeing Al as the bulwark of virtue that its rather stunning to see him so brazenly doing something that seems marked with ambiguity.
The investigation itself actually has an interesting wrinkle as it proceeds. We're given an obvious suspect early on (and he has all the trappings of a mad scientist), but in true Homicide fashion, he's just the decoy. The real mastermind turns out to be a truck driver named Wally Flynn, who seems to be almost a throwaway when we first meet him.  When Sheppard and Bayliss interrogate him, he doesn't even need to confess, and its really stunning when we learn why he did. He's no sociopath, he's an old man who wanted to give his life meaning, and decided to go on a murderous rampage after his wife and son died. When he tells Bayliss he doesn't matter (and using the same kind of Buddhist reasoning that he's been using this season) Tim gets angry we haven't seen this season. And when the denouement is revealed that Flynn is dying of cancer and there's no threat they can throw at him, it's truly unsettling. Credit must be given to the late character actor Pat Hingle for created something relative new in Homicide: a little man who has chosen murder as a way to be big.
This is a much more satisfying episode than the others we've had this season, and its filled with little touches that make it seem that the series might finally be getting on track again. Stivers and Falsone catch a murder where another brilliant Baltimore citizen decides to kill his wife with arsenic in order to cash in on the poisoning craze - but leaves the arsenic in his glove compartment. Mike and Al have an argument in the teaser about laying flooring (apparently Mike is continuing his repair work on his cousin's home) and when the investigation is over, he tells Al that he was right - about the flooring, not what Al did. And the general bond between Bayliss and Sheppard is actually one of the better ones the series will do.  And Charno (in her script for the series) manages to lay foreshadowing for what will happen near the end of the season exploring both Bayliss' anger towards the job and how Al and Mike's relationship will not work professionally.
But there's still some general flab around the corners throughout the episode. Munch's story with health issues involved in last week's bedroom romp with Billie Lou has an engaging ending, but there's so much talking about that it starts to become irritating. And unfortunately, the Ballard-Falsone relationship has finally begun, and rather than try and keep it under the radar, every detective in the unit is asking about the details. Which is bad enough, except than we get the details.

Overall, though, Red, Red Wine is the first episode this season that actually plays like an old-school Homicide. I'd say that's things are going to go up from here, but we still have a couple of detours to make.
My score: 4 stars.

Friday, August 17, 2018

Best TV Episodes of the 21st Century: Final 5



5. Six Feet Under - 'Everyone's Waiting' - 5.12
Admittedly this series, while often  brilliant, could also be incredibly erratic. But its hard to deny that the last episode is one of the greatest series finales ever. From the opening moment, where the series begins with a birth, unlike every other one, we get are final glimpses at the Fisher family. They finally seem to be resolving the conflicts that have plagued them throughout the series, as well as the ones that arose with Nate's death just a few episodes earlier. Then, there are the moving goodbyes between Claire and the rest of the Fisher clan, as she prepares to leave for New York. And then, she turns on the car radio, and we enter one of the great ten minutes sequences in TV history. Set to Sia's 'I'm Falling', we see the lives of the Fishers play out in montage - Keith and David finally getting married, Ruth adjusting to her new life, Brenda raising her family. And then, we start seeing them die. Simultaneously, its emotionally devastating seeing all the characters we've come to love die, and yet strangely fitting - this was a series about death, after all. And after everything that's happened to the Fisher clan, there's something satisfying about most of them finally getting what was taken from so many - a long, satisfying life. This is one of the most unforgettable moments TV has ever done, and I think it will be the most powerful for decades to come.

4. Lost - 'The Constant' - 4.5
Regardless of how much it got bogged down in the final season, one can't deny that this was one of the great television experiences of all time. So choosing an episode that best represents it is always going to be difficult. Do we go with 'Walkabout', the episode that cemented in many just how remarkable a ride we were in for? 'The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham', where John Locke's journey came to an end? Or 'Ab Aeterno', the episode which was almost good enough at answering every question we had about the island? All great choices, but really, the one that still resonates, that makes your head and your heart ache is 'The Constant'. Desmond finds himself unstuck in time as he leaves the island, and keeps shifting from 1996 London to the present, unable to remember anything from the latter. Eventually, he finds that the only way to fix himself in time is find something that exists in both time periods - and that's his soulmate, Penny. Not an easy task, considering he just broke her heart in 1996. Everything comes down to him getting the phone number for her London flat, and her never changing. The last few minutes of the episodes are the most effective the series ever did, as Desmond finally manages to make contact with the woman he loves, and then spent the next couple of minutes, reaffirming their devotion to each other, and that they will find each other. Lost was at its best when it tried to throw a mythos aside, and deal with matters of the heart, and in that sense the Desmond-Penny story worked perfectly because it ended up being one of the few moments of pure joy in a series proliferated with heartbreak. The only thing that made this episode better was that by the end of the season Des and Penny would finally be reunited, and that this episode put it all together.

3. The Americans - 'START' - 6.10
Even in the age of Peak TV, there are still very few series that managed to stick the landing. Far too many of the series I've listed here would have extraordinary runs, and then fall short when it came to wrapping things up. I spent most of the final season of this extraordinary Cold War drama, worrying that the writers would fall short. Instead, they did everything right. With Philip and Elizabeth Jennings cover finally burned, they realize that they have to get out of the country. A series of horrible decision lay ahead, and the writers manage to get every note - the decision to leave their son, Henry, the one person in the series who is completely innocent behind, so he can have a normal life, the heartbreaking goodbye call that they try to make to him, desperately trying to sound normal, the sequence on a train ride to Canada, where their disguises pass muster one last time, and as the train pulls out, they see that their daughter Paige has decided to leave them behind.  But the sequence that will assure this series a place in TV history comes in the one-act play where Stan Beaman, the FBI agent who has been their next door neighbor, and who only now has realized just what his neighbors do - confronts them all with a gun. Everything about their relationship comes out, including an exchange that is absolutely heartbreaking: Stan: "You were my best friend." Philip: "You were mine, too." I'm still not sure what was the most incredible thing about that sequence, the fact that Stan, after the horror of the confrontation, decides to let the Jennings' go, or the fact that Philip voices his suspicion that Stan's second wife might very well be another KGB sleeper.  The episode never resolved that issue, and maybe that's just as well. This series was undervalued its entire run by the Emmys. They have one last chance to make it right. Don't screw it up.

2. The Wire - 'Middle Ground' - 3.12
Yes, I know this was on TV Guide's list earlier this year, but it wasn't in their last list, and technically, I know that it was in mine. That said, its very hard to consider any single episode of The Wire as one of the great episodes of TV, considering how 'all the pieces' had to fit together for the series to work. But I do remember the reason that I chose this one: it seemed to encapsulate everything David Simon and the rest of his writers did perfectly. Stringer Bell, who has spent all of Season 3 trying for legitimacy, finds that he has been played and that he never will fit in the world he's in. Desperate to try and change things, he goes to Bunny Colvin, and betrays his brother in arms Avon Barksdale, not knowing that Avon has done the same by selling him out to Omar. One of the perfect moments in the series comes in the moment where they celebrate everything they've achieved, each knowing that they've betrayed the other. "To us, mother---", Stringer memorably says. Meanwhile, the task force, after months of trying to get around insurmountable obstacles, finally finds a way to get Avon on tape. They don't know that mere hours after they do Stringer will meet his end, as boldly as any character in this series will, even when confronted with the inevitable. Idris Elba has done some magnificent work on television, but nothing can compare with his final act: its small wonder that so many people were up in arms when Stringer died. As was always the case, the penultimate episode was always the great one for each season. And in many ways, The Wire would never do a greater moment than this one.

1. Breaking Bad -  Ozymandias - 6.6
It really seems pointless that after all this hard work that I reach the same conclusion that TV Guide does: that this episode of Breaking Bad is the finest hour TV has produced so far this century. But anyone who watched the series - which is one of the greatest creations in the medium - would find it hard to argue with that decision. There are the final moments of Hank, who even in his dying minutes, refuses to negotiate. There's the way that Walter tells Jesse about how he let his girlfriend die, and never told him. There's the way that Flynn reacts to learning about what his parents have been doing for the past year by telling Skyler that "if its true, you're just as bad as him" There's the moment Walter yells at Skyler, trying to paint her as innocent, and yet not holding back on twisting the knife. But we all know what makes this episode the greatest ever. Its when Walter comes to the house, trying to get them to run away, Skyler realizing what horrible might have happened, goes for a kitchen knife and stabs her husband. There's a struggle, and seems certain that Skyler will end up another casualty, and then Walter Jr. attacks his father. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WE'RE A FAMILY?" Walter screams. And then, in ten of the longest seconds in TV history, "We're a family." That's what Breaking Bad spent 59 episodes building up to: Walter realizing that all of the self-justifications he has made for becoming a meth kingpin have now been dowsed in acid. Then, he grabs his baby daughter, and runs. I'd like to say its Bryan Cranston's finest hour, but that could be said for almost any episode he's in. It was Anna Gunn's finest hour, and I really hope that second Emmy made up for all the abuse she took on message boards for six seasons. Don't get me wrong, the last couple of episodes were in their own way, just as incredible (Breaking Bad is the Gold standard for how a series should end) but this was a monument that will stand longer than the title reference did.





Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Slowly Calling Saul: Better Call Saul Season 4 Review


With each successive season of Breaking Bad, one could clearly she the steady progression of Walter White into the monster that became known as Heisenberg. Even as the third season of Better Call Saul, Vince Gilligan's increasingly brilliant prequel series, it is a lot more difficult to see the changed that will turn Jimmy McGill into Saul Goodman, Walter's long suffering consigliere.
What is clear is that one can clearly see Jimmy trying to rise above the mess that he is being dragged into, and with each successive episode, we can see him sinking a little deeper. This season, Jimmy (Bob Odenkirk, who continues to astonish with each new episode) has now reached a breaking point with his older brother, Chuck (Michael McKean, demonstrating another level of Emmy worthiness with each season) After going so far as to Scotchguard his entire house in order to get Jimmy to confess to a crime critical to the later episodes of Season 2,  Chuck demonstrated that, even as far psychologically gone as he may be, he is as mentally sharp and manipulative as his younger brother will be one day. By using a tape recording, he managed to manipulate his assistance, which led almost like dominoes falling to his brother throwing all caution to the wind, angrily confessing everything, something that will almost surely land him prison. (The viewer, of course, knows he'll walk away, but it sure looks bad.)
Things are in an even darker place for Mike (Jonathan Banks, stoically outstanding) who in the last moments of his storyline, where he was about to assassinate someone in the Salmanaca clan, when he was stopped and told he was under surveillance. He's spent the last two episodes trying to figure out who and why is doing this, which has led to long stretches of silence, eventually leading to the fast food restaurant, Los Pollos Hermanos. This led to a very well-done sequence where Jimmy went into the restaurant, spent five minutes watching a certain man, and trying to find something he couldn't, all leading up to a brief moment where he interacted with the head of the chain. In any other series, we could see this as just another excuse to bring a Breaking Bad favorite, but Gus Fring is no ordinary character, even within a universe of memorable ones, and to see him in the opening minutes, you almost forgot how miserable he made Walter's life. Just for a moment. I'm sure we'll be reminded of this soon enough, considering Giancarlo Esposito has agreed to come back.
Better Call Saul is one of the more astonishing series to come over the last few years. It's still nowhere near the level as Breaking Bad is, but considering that the series has been ranked by experts as one of the five greatest shows ever created in TV history, nothing could, even if it came from Vince Gilligan. But what the series manages to do is something that very few prequels can manage: it makes you forget the ultimate fate of the characters involved. And it works a lot better as a character study than so many of these kinds of shows manage to do. The performances are universally superb, and the writing is so good, it makes you even more amazed how many sequences there are that are just long stretches with no dialogue. I don't know how long Better Call Saul will be on the air, or what the future is for so many of the other characters we never saw Jimmy/Saul with (what will happen with Kim, Jimmy long-suffering legal colleague/girlfriend?), but even if we know, from the black and white sequences that open each season, what Jimmy's inevitable fate is, you find yourself hoping and praying for Saul Goodman, a man you never thought was worthy of it, and maybe didn't think so himself.

My score: 4.5 stars.

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Homicide Episode Guide: The Twenty Percent Solution

Written by David Simon
Directed by Clark Johnson

In some way, this episodes is one of the better ones of the seventh season. In other ways, it suffers tremendously compared to even the best episode. Most of that is because the writer is David Simon. And while the best part of the episodes are the kinds of things I'd expect from Simon, most of it doesn't even seem like it belongs in the same universe as the man who spent a year with the Baltimore PD.
Let's get to the major story cause that what's the big weakness. Ballard and Gharty are called in by Barnfather when the wife of noted writer L.P. Everett (pretty clearly a reference to the late Baltimore novelist Tom Clancy) is said that his wife has been murdered by his agent Jake Benedict.  They seem to present by a videotaped deposition of the author saying his agent killed him. The bosses foist this on Homicide because they feel like they have to go through the motions. The agent tells them he just received his latest draft of his novel, and that Everett is probably off with his mistress. Who, his actress wife, seems to know all about. It seems like Everett has run off - until the mistress shows up,  and says that Everett missed their rendezvous a week earlier.
All of this plays like a vaguely possible crime scenario, but the plausibility already stretched thin, starts getting pulled beyond recognition, when the investigation progresses, and the investigation leads to an ex-CIA man who claims that Everett plagiarized a manuscript that he wrote. It becomes increasingly clear that some kind of crime might have taken place - there are bullet holes in Everett's office - but there's no murder weapon, no blood spatter, and worst of all, no body.  This makes for some intriguing elements where it becomes hard to tell if a crime even took place. All of which would make for an interesting episode of Law & Order, but isn't something that David Simon would have the detectives touch with a ten-foot pole.
There are bits and pieces of the story that work well, but for some reason, in the final act, Simon turns the major story over to Danvers, as he takes on a role that would not be out of place for Jack McCoy. (Maybe last season's crossover rubbed off on him.) The prisoner, who can clearly see that the cards are in his favor, doesn't confess, and the case, however circumstantial, goes to the trial. And then, the entire case seems to turn when Russom, the sleazy Baltimore attorney who seems to represent every criminal in the city, gives a closing argument, in which he says L.P. Everett will wave at you. He doesn't show up, he says that everybody looked and that's reasonable doubt. The jury deliberates for twelve minutes, and then comes back with a guilty verdict! And they reveal that the only reason that they voted to convict was because when Russom made his closing statement, the defendants didn't bother to look.
Now, I'll admit, I've been waiting for six years for Michael Willis to get his ass handed to him, but it's just not realistic as far as any of the trials on Homicide work. Compared to 'Justice', this doesn't even come close to passing the smell test.  And I just can't buy Simon putting pen to paper and coming up with this.
What seems more like Homicide is the secondary story where Bayliss and Munch are called into investigate a suspicious death of an eighty-eight year old woman, who appears to have died a heart attack at the sight of an attempted burglary. It's only been a few episodes, but its already clear that the Bayliss-Munch partnership isn't going to be a match made in heaven. Munch doesn't believe that this was a murder, and is anxious to get the investigation closed so he can have a three-day weekend rendezvous with Billie Lou. Bayliss is his usual aggressive self, and wants an answer. Neither is helped immensely by the ruling of Grissom, the chief ME who has replaced Cox, and who is one of Homicide's better additions. A cheerful investigator into cause of death, he is both very thorough in his work, and, in a rarity for this, office, grimly funny. Austin Pendleton does a wonderful job, and makes us look forward to our visits to the morgue.
Eventually, the case is resolved when the burglar - a career criminal who cheerfully confesses to thirty-two robberies as long as he gets the same sentence - is caught, and asks after the fate of the old woman. Turns out, she scared him to death, and after she keeled over, he tried to make her comfortable and called 911. In a rare case of discretion, Munch and Bayliss decide that this is not a murder, and tell him the woman is alright. This is actually modeled after a case in Simon's book, and it has the feel of an old-school story.
There are some very charming bits in The Twenty Percent Solution - the opening montage where the squadroom tries to come up with the definitive list of Jewish and Hip, a list that ends up with Meldrick being declared as an unhip black man, which understandably wounds him. There's the moment when Munch makes a reference to The Maltese Falcon, which no one gets, and the fact that Gharty can't understand for the life of him why two gorgeous women would want to be with LP Everett - and they can't understand why they shouldn't be. But this is sort of overplayed by the fact that Falsone finally figures out that Ballard has the hots for him, and asks her out on a date, officially starting the series worst continuing storyline.

There are enough good moments in this episode to make it watchable, even enjoyable at times. But considering both the writer and director (Johnson directs his fourth episode so far), you've frankly come to expect a lot better. This seems like a much later police procedural, not the kind of thing that David Simon would produce, much less pen.
My score: 3 stars.

Friday, August 10, 2018

50 Greatest Episodes of the 21st Century, Part 9: Episodes 10-6

10. 30 Rock - 'Rosemary's Baby' - 2.4
Trying to pick the best episode from 30 Rock is really a crapshoot - all of them were stuffed full of so many incredible jokes that there's a good chance I'll overshoot one of them because so many of the subtle ones. But I'm going to stick with the one I went with nearly a decade ago. When Liz finds herself getting involved with a writer she idealized growing up (the incredible Carrie Fisher), she seems willing to throw everything away - until she learns how pathetic Rosemary's life really is. Meanwhile, Jack tries to send Tracy through therapy - which leads to one of the great three minutes segments in comedy history, where Alec Baldwin channels everybody in Tracy's family, and reaches arguably his highest point on a series that gave him greatest moments. And yes, even though we see what would probably be considered the inevitable Princess Leia, Fisher delivers it with such perfect timing, one can't help but go into hysterics.

9. The Good Wife - 'Hitting The Fan' -5.5
This series is, without question, one of the greatest TV shows of the past decade. And what made this series such an incredible one was how brilliant is was willing to completely upend itself, particularly in its second half. And while some might consider the death of Will Gardener its finest moment, I really think its most incredible one came a few months earlier. Upon learning that Alicia is planning to leaving Gardener-Lockhart to start her own firm with Cary, Will marches in to her office, barely able to keep his emotions in his check, trying to figure out whether he feels more betrayed or angry. Finally he utters three simple words: "You were poison!", and in swift motion shoves all of Alicia's papers and books on to the floor. It isn't just that Alicia has decided to leave the firm, but in this motion, she utterly destroys any possibility of the Will-Alicia relationship ever being realized. This was Josh Charles finest hour, made even more remarkable considering that he'd had to be talked into staying for Season 5  by Juliana Marguiles.  The series would do some truly brilliant shifts, but it would rarely change the game more confidently - or magnificently - than it did here.

8. Buffy the Vampire Slayer - The Body - 5.16
By now, its considered a given that the finest hour for this classic series came in its musical episode 'Once More With Feeling'. And there's no question that Joss Whedon managed a great accomplishment in a way that even his biggest fans didn't think he could pull off. But frankly, I'm inclined to give this episode just the tiniest bit less credit because it was the beginning of the downfall of this great series. And really, the episode that resonates with me even more (at least, the one that qualifies for this list) came earlier in 2001. Buffy dealt with death so much that we were becoming inured to it, so when Joyce Summer died in this episode from complications from brain surgery earlier in the season, it stunned us - mainly because she died in a way no one in the series had before or would again - peacefully. But the episode was all about everybody's reactions to this death - Dawn's mental breakdown, Willow being unable to choose a shirt, Anya, the most glib member of the group, who lived for over a thousand years, utterly unable to come to terms with what had happened. All of which, by the way, was done with no background music at all. Few series, past or present, have been able to deal with death as soberly or as well as did. The series being robbed of Emmy nominations was - until David Simon came along - the awards shows biggest blunder. That the episode wasn't even nominated is something I still can't forgive the Emmys, even nearly two decades later.

7. 24 -  'Day 5- 6PM-7PM' - 5.12
How do you pick the greatest episode of the ultimate serialized drama? Jack Bauer's adventures over eight days featured some truly incredible moments, but most of them don't work unless they're seen in context. So ultimately, the choice comes down to what was 24's finest hour? And that's still an easy call. Without question, the greatest season was Day 5, when Howard Gordon and company decided to start taking out most of the characters we had come to know and care about over the first four seasons. And in this episode, they decided to lay waste to CTU itself. The last ten minutes of the episode are among the series finest, as Jack spends it trying to find an invader. Then we see that there's a nerve gas container in CTU. In a matter of seconds, the staff begins dying right and left. Jack gets Chloe to seal off certain rooms, with people still dying right in front of them. And then: "Oh no." Edgar, one of the most beloved characters on the series comes into the room. He has just enough time to get one word out: "Chloe." Then he begins to double over. Its not the silent clock that rams the moment homes. Its the look on Mary Lynn Raskjub's face as she watches her best friend die. This is the moment that probably won the show its Emmy for Best Drama. Never were moment and award so perfectly matched.

6. The Shield - Possible Kill Screen - 7.12

This series was the first non-HBO series to determine the true potential of basic cable. And unlike so many of the great series in the early years of the Golden Age, its one of the few that never had a bad season, and whose last season may well have been its best.  When I first did this list nearly eight years ago, I listed the last episode as one of the greatest ever. But in retrospect, the penultimate one had one of the far greater moments. After years of eluding justice for his illegal activities, Vic Mackey has finally gotten into a position with the government where he can agreed to work for them in exchange for immunity.  The final fifteen minutes of the episodes are among the greatest in TV history, and I'm not sure which parts are among the best - the more than forty second closeup on Vic as he readies himself to confess his sins, the look of horror on the face of the government agents when he confesses to the murder that took place in the Pilot, the way he keeps talking, and almost seems to be taunting her, by telling her there's no way he's leaving anything out, or the look on Claudette and Dutch's face as they finally realize that the man they've been chasing since the beginning of the series is finally and unalterably out of their reach. All I know is that there's only one possible reaction to this: "Oh my f-ing God."

Thursday, August 9, 2018

Sinner Man, Where's He Gonna Run Too?

The Sinner was one of last summer's more intriguing discoveries. A limited series, it turned the formula of the simple mystery drama on its head  - we saw the murder committed, and we had no doubt as to who the killer was - she even went so far as to confess to it before the first episode was half over.. What unfolded over eight episode was a slow look inside the motivations of self-confessed killer, portrayed in a tour de force by Jessica Biel. But much like any other series that centers around a single crime that gets renewed, one wonders what the series could do for an encore. And the answer is, something even creepier.
Just like Season 1, the second season of The Sinner opened with a murder. What made the opening sequence far more unsettling wasn't just the unexpected deaths, it was the killer - a nine-year named Julian Walker. Taking place in a small town in upstate New York,  a local policewoman named Heather Novack quickly realizes she's out of her league. She calls the detective at the center of Season 1, Harry Ambrose (Bill Pullman, who continues to perform at the height of his powers) who grew up in the town, and is an old friend with the cop's father (Tracy Letts). Reluctant to get involved in a new case or return to his hometown, Harry finds himself drawn in to an even more baffling set of circumstances.
Julian confesses to the crime, and to poisoning his parents. It quickly becomes clear that the victims were not, despite all appearances, Julian's parents. And by the end of the first episodes, things become even more confused with the appearance of Vera Walker, who claims to be the child's mother, and who is also the head of a 'community' that the towns calls a cult.
Carrie Coon has very quickly become one of the great discoveries of the new Golden Age. In both The Leftovers and the most recent edition of Fargo, she demonstrated the ability to play the Everywoman, who tries to find normality and decency in the world, even though everyone is tuned against her. In The Sinner, she's playing the antagonist (one won't go so far as to call her the villain yet, even though it sure looks that way) who even when saying the right things always seems to have her own meanings. We saw in the first episode that she was responsible for some kind of indoctrination ritual with Julian, and even though Julian immediately changes his tune as soon as he sees her, its not clear yet whether its because he wants to please her or because he's terrified of her. At this point, we can't be sure of anything about him. But we are relatively certain, as is Heather, the policewoman who called Harry in, that the people Vivian leads are very dangerous.
Given how crowded the world of anthology series seems to be at the moment, one could understand how loathe some viewers would be to take on yet another one, no matter how well acted or written. It's still not clear if the series is capable of avoiding the pitfalls that doomed True Detective in its second season. But Pullman and Coon are both great actors, who for whatever reason have never received the praise they've deserved. And if nothing else, The Sinner, like Mr. Robot, demonstrates how good USA can be at producing edgy, fascinating series, instead of the more traditional procedural shows we usually get. I'm willing to give this series a chance while I wait for Fargo to come back.

My score: 4 stars.

Saturday, August 4, 2018

Homicide Episode Guide: Just An Old Fashioned Love Song

Written by Eric Overmeyer
Directed by Leslie Libman & Larry Williams

The biggest flaw with Homicide is, in retrospect, that they never really got a handle on how to deal with regulars who weren't detectives. They would do find with all of the actors who appeared in smaller roles in other jobs, but whenever they tried to introduce a character who didn't work in the squad, they would fail. Russert's up and down movement within the department seems to smack of desperation; when Howard was promoted to Sergeant, her character practically disappeared into the ether; the effort to paint Brodie as an outsider worked a bit too well, and as good an actress as Michelle Forbes was, Juliana Cox only seemed to work as a romantic lead less than an actual character with the ME.
When the writers moved Mike Giardello into the squad as Agent Liaison, they clearly were trying a little harder. By having someone who could link to the FBI and CIB, there was clearly a mix of both insider and outsider to the character. And because he was Al's son, there was an added element of tension to the character that wasn't just professional, it was personal.  We can see it when Al basically spends most of the investigation barking at Mike, even though Ballard is the primary of the case, and the way that Mike has a clear problem with his father. In another telling conversation, mostly having to do with all the failed marriages in the squad, Mike very painfully points out what a failure his father was. "She was married to him. He was married to the job." For six seasons, Al had been painted as a lonely widower, now it becomes clear that he misses her more in theory than he did when she actually alive.
Much of these problems with love come into play in the central investigation at the heart of 'Love Song'. Ballard goes out to see a shooting where a prominent sports doctor has shot and killed a prowler, who turns out to be his own sister-in-law. It soon becomes clear that the victim was a desperate woman long before she walked into her brother-in-law's garage. She was a gambler who was in debt up to her eyeballs, and maxed out her credit cards in order to pay her markers. Gradually, it becomes clear that she conspired with her sister to murder her brother for her life insurance policy.  What gives the story a bit of a Homicide feel is that the husband (well played by Oz  actor O.L. Duke) refused to admit that his sister-in-law would have a reason to kill her, and that his marriage to his wife was superb. He's even willing to post a half-million dollar bail for his wife after she's arresting for conspiracy to commit murder. The story basically ends with the very real possibility that the wife will try to plant reasonable doubt by basing blame on her husband, something Danvers more than admits might work.
This is an intriguing case, far more interesting than we got in the first two episodes. Unfortunately, we're still getting buried in so much of a hormonal messes that we've gotten before. Meldrick may have decided that he's not going to try anything with Sheppard, but that merely means that Bayliss is now entering into a flirtatious period. At least, Meldrick and Falsone were blunt about how they approached things; Tim's way around Renee looks and is incredibly painful, both for him and the viewer. What gives this even the slightest bit of interest is that when Renee points out Tim's sexual history with men, he eventually refers to himself as 'bi-curious', a phrase that had barely entered the vernacular in 1998. To have a lead character that questioning of his sexuality would have problems these days; twenty years ago, on a network TV series, it really was ground-breaking, and I imagine a lot of fans missed it.
But there's no redeeming value to what's going on between Ballard and Falsone. When the two characters are in a gym to learning more information about one of their victims, Falsone gets into the ring, and Ballard does everything short of tossing her panties at him. It's all the more painful, because right now, Falsone is oblivious. (I'm honestly not sure what would have been more painful, him finding out or his ignoring it)
What gives the series a little more room to breathe is what's going on in two smaller stories. Gharty is officially moving out of his house as the divorce proceedings begin. Munch is particularly sympathetic, saying that the Irish tend to internalize - "alcoholism and ulcer'. For once, he has remarkable insight, as this is a problem that will plague Stu for much of the season.
But Munch has problems of his own. The IRS has basically started going after him due to back taxes that basically will end up crushing him even more financially. In typical fashion, he turns to Mike Giardello's help in going after his IRS agent. MGee is particularly smart in saying know. Even the FBI doesn't want to screw with the IRS.
Just An Old Fashioned Love Song is marginally better than the first two episodes of the series. The investigation is more interesting, and than the conversations between Ballard and Mike paint a far more compelling story of the Giardello family than we've gotten before. (There's some background about Mike's former relationship with a woman when he was in Arizona, but its never followed up.) And even though Mike shows some flair of his own, particularly in pursuit of a gun dealer with the unlikely street name of Lemonhead, the writers are going out of the way to make sure that he is not going to be an Andre Braugher imitator. It makes for interesting television, but its still not up to nearly the high bar that Homicide has even with its weakest episodes. And sadly, things are not going to get better quicker.
My score:3 stars.








Friday, August 3, 2018

50 Greatest Episodes of the 21st Century, Part 8: 15-11

15. Parks & Recreation - 'Leslie & Ben' -  5.14
Trying to choose the best episode of Parks & Rec is incredibly difficult - it's one of the rare comedy series that actually got better with each successive season. But its funniest moments were also included in its most sweet, when Leslie and Ben finally decided, on the spur of the moment to get married. The comic gold - Ron making wedding rings out of household objects - was mixed with unusual bittersweetness - when Chris told Ben about how happy he was that they'd found a home in Pawnee. And of course, the most wonderful moment came at the end when, after it seemed their plans had been Jammed,  their friends did what they always did and brought them together. Their wedding vows are really their finest hour. Considering how busy everyone on the series is, I'd be shocked if they got back together. But I can hope.

14. Fargo  - The Castle - 2.9
Trying to choose the best moment from this incredible anthology series is always going to be difficult - there have been so many great heroes and villains throughout the series run that to choose one season out of the other seems unfair. In the end, I must go back to the past - Season 2. The long struggle between the Gerhardt family, the Kansas City mob, and Ed and Peggy, finally climaxed in the key moment in the series mythology - the Sioux Fall Massacre. And unlike so many series where the great moments are anticlimactic, this one surely wasn't. As the Gerhardt family was betrayed by one of their most loyal soldiers, who climaxed his fighting by slaying family matriarch Floyd, the series erupted in one of the bloodiest massacres this side of Sam Peckinpah. (Though as far as I know, Peckinpah never used a literal deux ex machina to save anyone). It's more bloody and real than anything you see on Game of Thrones, mainly because the buildup has been leading to this, and even though we know Lou will survive, we sure are terrified while its going on. One never knows just how Noah Hawley will top himself. Season 4 can't come fast enough.

13. Mad Men -  'Shut The Door, Have A Seat'  - 3.13
Though I feel that this AMC series was often overrated, that certainly wasn't true in the first four seasons. There were a lot of incredible moments throughout the series, and it is tempting to consider 'The Suitcase' their finest hour. But I'm equally fond of the third season finale. When it seems like Sterling Cooper is about to be swallowed whole by a bigger agency, Don and Roger reunite after a season of disagreements to do the equivalent of a heist. Many of Jon Hamm's finest moments are in this episode - when he finally admits that Pete has a better handle on the voice of the country than he does, when he persuades Joan to come aboard, and in his finest moment, when he tells Peggy that he can't imagine working without her. It's a brilliant moment, particularly considering simultaneously his marriage finally collapses and two seasons of trying to hold it up. Most of the ensemble does their best work in collaboration. The fact that the series basically ended with them throwing it all away doesn't do anything to diminish it.

12. Battlestar Galactica -  Crossroads - 3.20
It's always difficult trying to figure out which of these episodes is the greatest. TV Guide flip-flopped, going with 'Blood on the Scales' in their last list, and '33' in this one. Last time out, I remember I chose Kobol's Last Gleaming. All of them are remarkable episodes, but in the end, I think the series finest hour is one of the few that the Emmys actually recognized with nominations. There's so much going on -  Apollo deciding to state quite clearly the hypocrisy of Baltar's prosecution, the verdict that nearly tears the fleet apart (with Adama casting the deciding vote), and the reappearance of Starbuck in the final moments. But by far, the greatest moment was one of the biggest shocks of all time: when we learned who four of the Final Five were. The fact that the characters were just as appalled (including, understandably, Saul Tigh) as the audience was, wasn't nearly as shocking as how they were turned on - the lyrics to 'All Along the Watchtower'. Its still one of the biggest stunners in the history of TV. The fact that the series ultimately couldn't quite measure up to in its final moments doesn't change the fact as to how brilliant a moment it was.

11. The West Wing - 'Shibboleth' - 2.8

Technically, this one may not fit on the calendar here as, technically speaking, it aired in November of 2000. In this case, however, to quote Mulder in a similar context, "Nobody likes a math geek'. Besides, this is still one of the most incredible moments in the history of television. It features the series high point in comedy (and considering how brilliant The West Wing was in the Sorkin years, that's saying a lot) as Allison Janney is forced to decide between two turkeys to receive the traditional pardon. Watching her dealing with it hysterical, watching her react when the other is about to be sent pack is comedy gold. But amidst all the comedy gold, there are truly great moments as the Bartlet White House tries to deal with the issue of Chinese stowaways claiming to be Christians, and how to figure out to grant them asylum, and the wonderful business as the Bartlet forcing Charlie to get him a new carving knife, which seems to be more comic business, until it leads to one of the most moving moments in the series history. This episode is required viewing in my family's household every Thanksgiving. It should be for everybody. All year.