Pandemic Picks Part 3

Half of It (2020) 

Some films just feel as though they've been made for you. Half of It was recommended to me by my best friend, and who better to give you pandemic binging recommendations than one of your closest confidantes? Funny enough, the film itself is very much about confidantes, those we trust with our secrets, the secrets we tell outright as well as the ones we reveal subconsciously through our behaviors and actions. When a quirky high-school jock named Paul falls for the local pastor's daughter, he enlists the linguistic help of Ellie Chu, a brainy introvert who writes academic papers for cash. What blossoms, is an unusual friendship that fosters seeds of unrequited love in the most unexpected hearts. It is best not to spoil the plot's more intricate details and allow audiences to experience and interpret them for themselves. The film avoids archetypes for its central characters, giving them inspired moments of depth and complexity just when you think you've gotten them all figured out. It finds new ways to explore a genre that feels at this point so worn and tired-out. Paul, especially, receives added layers of emotionality that make him more investable than similar characters found in other genre films. Chu is the true shining star of the film, however. Her jadedness is understated and ultimately warranted by a heartfelt backstory that takes its time to unfold. The film uses the opposing ideologies of Ellie and Paul to appeal to both cynics and optimists alike, representing each of their perspectives with a decent degree of respect and dignity. The film touches upon topics ranging from sexuality to the struggles of immigrant assimilation, giving each just enough attention to say something meaningful without deriding the plot into a hokey sense of forced-sentimentality. The pacing works beautifully and gives all the essential characters and their intertwining relationships time to grow and develop properly. It is a Rom-Com that ends up being more about human connection than first-love and first-loss. While many critiqued Love, Simon (2018) for being a white-washed depiction of the gay-teen experience, Half of It highlights the ground potentially broken by Greg Berlanti's film, and how it has paved the way for more inclusive and diverse LGBTQ narratives. These films achieve such diversity simply by not making "gayness" a topic that solely encompasses heartache and tragedy. The film is one that deserves greater attention from adults and teenagers of all different sexual orientations. Hopefully, it will too, pave the way for more queer narratives that balance laughs and tears with such touching and sincere equilibrium as it so does. 

The Assistant (2019) 

"Trigger Warning" has become a common vernacular used in relation to consumer consumption of various forms of media and entertainment. Warnings of sensitive subject matter that may negatively impact the mental health of a particular individual or group of individuals watching. Sometimes, however, trigger warnings aren't needed, and a film's logline may be enough to indicate to someone that they might want to think twice before watching. When I chose to watch The Assistant with my parents one night the primary reasoning behind my decision was that the film stars Julia Garner, who we all greatly admire for her work on shows like Ozark and Dirty John. I had not considered that the film, which is centered around a day in the life of a young girl working as an assistant to a prominent fictional film producer, might be sensitive subject matter for me. I am an aspiring screenwriter and am currently searching for my first entry-level position in the film industry, or at least I was pre-COVID. Much of my research about talent agencies and production companies have warned me of the often harsh and stressful working conditions found within them. Most of my research, which has included speaking to people who actually work at these kinds of companies have given a general consensus that the everyday working environment truly comes from the top down. Who your boss and superiors are dictates much of the mood and atmosphere you'll be transversing as you go about your daily duties. This film seems to reinforce that idea and while it is an undeniably dreary affair, solace, I suppose, can be found in the notion that not every production company is like the one depicted in the film. Not every boss is as callous and cruel as the unseen spectre that looms over Garner and the supporting cast for the entirety of the film. The problem is, you can't really know until you go out there and see for yourself. I had a minor anxiety attack after the movie was over, fearful that it was prophetic of my own future in the industry. The truth is, it very well might be, but better to know now then be horrifyingly surprised and emotionally unprepared, later. The film is not a story of over-coming triumph. It is no spoiler to say that Garner does not take down her tyrannical boss in the span of a single workday. It does show an attempt from her to reach out for allies, only to be humiliatingly defeated by a vindictive and vilifying Human Resources Head. While many may view the ending as overly down-beat and defeatist, take a second look at the powerful performance Garner emits through silent gazes and gestures throughout the film, most notably in its final moments. It is in those final moments that I now realize her light has not been extinguished. She does not quit the job; she leaves to go home and rest up for another day of psychological abuse and under-appreciation tomorrow. This quiet fire that she carries inside her could very well lead her to success one day, and the film covertly reminds us that no matter how hard things may appear we cannot give up, not if our passions are truly aligned with our chosen paths in life. As we grow stronger and more influential, these tyrant's times in power comes more and more finite. We have to be the change we want to see in our lives, our relationships and yes, even our preferred industries of work. That Garner's character does not quit speaks volumes to those in similar situations throughout the entertainment industry and in other workplaces plagued by similar issues of bullying and misogyny. What we cannot change today, we must work towards changing tomorrow. Maybe I'm just an average optimist. Maybe I am trying to compensate for the still-lingering anxiety the film instilled in me through its haunting illustration of disvalue. Whatever the reason, director Kitty Green's film gives us a lot to be concerned about regarding workplace conditions in the entertainment industry, especially for young and vulnerable women. Still, it also gives us ample reasons to stay in the fight to keep working towards our dreams. Even if we don't ever reach the positions of power, at least we will have the confidence of knowing we did not allow ourselves to be berated and besmirched without attempting to create something better, not just ourselves, but for all the generations still to come.

TV Recommendations

1. Little Fires Everywhere - (Hulu) 

If the viral Amy Cooper (Dog Lady in the Park) video is getting you heated about the continuous problematic and toxic race relations in this country, Little Fires Everywhere should be your go-to binge right now. Though set in the 1990s the heart-wrenching and blood-boiling story told over the eight-episode miniseries rings all-too-true still in current society about how we create barriers, whether they be out of guilt or a sense of superiority between us and those that are different. That difference could be in race, but also sexual orientation and even gender. The show asks questions we still have not answered as a society and is supported by an immensely talented multi-racial cast led by Kerry Washington and Reese Witherspoon who play deeply flawed and relatable women who are just trying to do what is right in their mind's eye. The issue the series unveils is that everyone's mind's eye has on a different set of glasses that skew our perspectives and inhibit us at times from realizing the cracks in our own complexions. We have to take the glasses off, even if we may not like what we see. The show will leave you with deep scars, but you'll be thankful to have received them because you'll remind yourself that others have received far worse in life for unjust and unimaginable reasons.  

2. Raising Dion - (Netflix)

With a market so completely saturated with superheroes stories, some better executed than others, you'd honestly think there was hardly any terrain left uncharted. Raising Dion proves you wrong in a big way. As a little boy discovers he has superpowers his mother must find new and innovative ways to keep him safe as dark forces threaten them and those they love. The balance of humor and drama in the show is sometimes off-kilter, but this is made up for by a committed and more-than competent cast, led by Ja'Siah Young as the titular character. The show advocates for diversity in multifaceted ways by featuring characters queer, of color and disabled. These characters and their arcs teeter comfortably, but never actually fall over the line into full-blown melodrama. With impressive special effects and nuanced performances and storytelling Raising Dion is a feel-good series in a time when we are and should be celebrating so many real-life heroes on a daily basis.

3. Harley Quinn - (DC Universe)

Another different approach to the superhero genre can be found in the original animated series Harley Quinn about everyone's favorite sexy jester minx. The show chronicles Harley's separation from the Joker and forming of her own gang of criminal cohorts. The show is earnestly hilarious not only in its raunchy moments but its quieter ones as well. The characters idiosyncrasies are so well ingrained into their attitudes and dialogue that you come to love and appreciate even the most loathsome of beings like Bane or Dr Psycho. Its sporadic, unapologetic gore also helps set it apart from previous television and direct-to-DVD endeavors and raises the stakes significantly for the characters throughout. It is not afraid to poke fun at past incarnations of these characters or even questionable attributes in their origin stories, such as making Mr Freeze a creepily obsessed husband rather than a simply misunderstood and devoted one to his sick, frozen wife. The voice cast is energetic and on-point, never phoning it in or ringing false in their performances especially Kaley Cuoco, Lake Bell, Christopher Meloni and Tony Hale, amongst many other talented artists contributing their voices to the program. Amongst the laughter and thrills, the show even manages to move us in emotional ways we may not expect as we relate to the underdog protagonist and her similarly undervalued companions. It is a must-watch for DC fans and anyone looking for a fun and wild spin on a well-established formula and intellectual property. 

Pandemic Picks Part 2: Two Men and a Lady

1. The Invisible Man (2020)


Though it would have been magnificent, I'm sure to have gotten the opportunity to have seen it on a big screen there is something undeniably intimate about The Invisible Man (2020) that makes a first time home viewing all the more appropriate and emotionally effective. The film takes us into domestic settings and gives them a distrusting aura. A bedroom is no longer a safe space, and a kitchen becomes isolating instead of unifying. Director and writer Leigh Whannell, who was the idea man behind the Saw Franchise takes what could have been an easily mishandled sci-fi premise and turns it into something fresh, relevant and earnestly terrifying. It is a shame that Universal Pictures had to go through the cinematic tragedy that was The Mummy (2017) in order to arrive here. Originally intended to be a shared universe (the Dark Universe) Universal had planned to recreate the classic monster movies of Hollywood's Golden Age in new and exciting ways throughout several connected films. The Mummy highlighted a fundamental misunderstanding of how to handle this material that audiences still felt connected to decades later. They don't want a complete creative overhaul of the stories they've come to know, love and fear, but they also do not desire an incompetent rehash of these genre-defining tales either. The Invisible Man succeeds most frequently because it places itself somewhere comfortably in the middle. It is familiar enough, but also contains plenty of new ideas on how to reinterpret the beloved material in meaningful ways. Taking clear inspiration from films outside the horror genre, most notably Sleeping With the Enemy (1991) the film tackles the subject matter of domestic violence with surprising subtly. The plot smartly skips over our protagonist troubled marriage, and the audience is spared scenes of blatant domestic violence that are instead articulated by Elizabeth Moss's performance later on. Everything from her body language to her facial expressions tells us the type of marriage she was trapped in; the rest is a picture we can paint for ourselves in our own minds. The plot eschews many cliches, providing jump scares that are inventive and less predictable than many contemporary thrillers and horror films of the recent past. It sometimes seems to forget that it is not a supernatural film and therefore fails to explore some of the logistics behind its antagonist's dastardly schemes. Where does Adrian sleep, or eat for that matter? How did he and his brother fake the suicide so perfectly without raising any suspicion from the authorities? How is he able to always follow Cecilia even to places that would clearly require him to access via a motor vehicle? If one approaches the film from a more metaphorical interpretation, seeing him as a simple allegory for Cecilia's pain and suffering, these questions are basically pointless. Still, to those of us who appreciate nuanced details in regards to filmmaking and plot structure, these would prove to be reasonable inquiries. Though the ending is undeniably satisfying in a Post- Weinstein society, the pacing of the film hits a speed bump towards the end as the climax can't help but feel fifteen minutes longer then it should be. Some may argue this is merely Whannell challenging genre conventions. Still, even if the material on screen is engaging, that doesn't mean he can transcribe the narrative to us seamlessly. The rips in the seams are apparent throughout in little ways, but those who are looking for a film that is frightening on a humanistic level and fantastical one will find dozens of redeemable qualities within this film than faults or flaws. The bar was set pretty low, and The Invisible Man is a hopeful sign that these monsters from our past may have suitable reasons to return, especially if they are given such relevant and relatable new context as is done in this film. How can the fears of our past influence our fears in the present? That is the question that should be on every "Dark Universe" filmmakers mind as they move forward with their re-imaginings. Maybe we'll find The Mummy's failure to have been a blessing in disguise? Sure The Wolfman fighting The Mummy sounds exciting, but perhaps it is the origins of the beasts that will prove to be the true crowd-pleasers in the years to come.


2. The Tomorrow Man (2019)


While some have found comfort in some form by watching pandemic-related media like Contagion (2011), Outbreak (1995) or even 28 Days Later (2002) I prefer the escapism of literally any other genre of film available to me. While browsing for something to watch on Hulu yesterday evening, my parents and I came across The Tomorrow Man (2019). Starring two of our favorite seasoned actors, John Lithgow and Blythe "She Never Works Enough" Danner, this cute late in life romantic drama seemed like an ideal choice. What we got was indeed a love story, but it is wrapped in cellophane comprised of vaguely explained paranoia and trauma. These characters are having problems not in finding love, but in finding themselves again amidst the rubble of their fractured lives. Lithgow overcomes his divorce by focusing on prepping for the End of Days while Danner is still reeling over the death of her daughter over a decade prior by hoarding. Neither of their psychological psyches is mined too much depth by writer and director Noble Jones, who has a difficult time developing each of them as individual characters as he develops their romantic entanglement in one another's complicated lives. Danner and Lithgow shine in their roles despite the problematic material they are presented with and show undeniable chemistry with one another throughout the film. When all else fails, their commitment to adorable quickness keeps the audience engaged. The running time is too short, at just an hour and thirty-five minutes, that it is no wonder the viewer can't help but feel cheated in some way by what can and should be a more emotionally resonating love story/character study. The ending is a surprise but would be all the more satisfying if the build-up to it had been more enthralling and competent. We still don't know these two people well enough before we find them face to face with a reality they had come to believe was a bad thought that needed to be shaken away. No doubt that is what so many of us thought of the COVID-19 virus in the past couple of weeks before the petri dish hit the fan. In that way, my parents and I related to Lithgow's skewed POV in a sympathetic light. Better to be prepared for the outrageous, because we now know the outrageous to be a tangible reality. Danner's character perspective ultimately resonated with me more, however, and it is a crucial scene in a hospital room where she essentially spells out the film's timely moral: stop living for tomorrow and start living for today. That is certainly a lesson people should be heading all over the world right now, and it is for that reason that I would recommend The Tomorrow Man to other film-watchers, along with the enjoyable performances put on by its two reliable leads. An imperfect film yes, but these are imperfect times we are living in and something about that makes this a match made in quarantine.


3. Portrait of a Lady On Fire (2019)


Perhaps one of the most challenging things to depict on film is authentic, genuine tenderness between two people. Even in modern on-screen romances we often find our senses assaulted by oversaturated and manipulative film scores or distracting side-characters as we attempt to sit back, and engulf ourselves into a love story that we believe in and earnestly root for. Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) does away with two of these issues almost instantaneously. The film forgoes a musical score, though you'll be so enraptured in the story you'll likely not realize it and make one up in your head. It also situates its characters on an isolated island in a grand estate with only a single servant. The character of Sophie is far from a distraction; however, as it is through her own journey that the two lead characters, Marianne and Héloïse, form an even stronger bond with one another. Sophie's abortion scene could easily be misinterpreted as having a pro-life thematic undertone, as she lies across a bed beside a baby as is being treated. I, however, believe that as Sophie looks at the cooing baby beside her, she is relieved and comforted, because she knows she has made the right decision for herself and the potential life inside her. One could argue that witnessing this self-love, encourages Marianne and Héloïse to pursue each other even more fervently. They come to realize that life is too short not to give yourself some semblance of what you've earned through loneliness and conformity. The film presents the love story ample time to develop and grow. It never caters to any potentially lustful desires of its viewing audience once the two women consummate the relationship. Theirs is real tenderness because it is so clearly theirs to enjoy and explore, not ours. We are fortunate to be privy enough to their mutual courting of one another, for it is most certainly that, a mutual courting. So many love stories, be they heterosexual or otherwise, almost always have one character be the figurative hunter, and the other their figurative prey. Women are almost always relegated to the role of prey, an object of desire to be obtained. Marianne and Héloïse handle things quite differently than the norm, not just for the period in which the film is set, but even by modern standards. They pursue one another covertly, but not narcissistically. They see what each other is lacking in life and wish to fill in these painfully empty voids for however short of a time they may have together. They look to each other not just for love, but for knowledge as well. Héloïse learns how to paint and appreciate art. Marianne learns what is like to commit to another human being so intimately, beyond a canvass. Though they are considerate of their own needs as mentioned, they are even more interested in what they each hold in their minds as well as hearts. It is difficult to recall the last time a film created a romantic bond out of such mutual respect, even when set during a time-period of stringent hierarchies and formal protocols. American filmmakers can learn so much from Céline Sciamma masterful depiction of forbidden love, just as her equally great film Tomboy (2012) gave a stunning blueprint on how to handle gender identity issues in cinema. Portrait of a Lady on Fire is not an exquisitely portrayed lesbian love story. It is an exquisite love story, period. Its strength lies in its subtly, its unbridled commitment to emotional complexity, and the undeniable solidarity found between its three female leads. It is a film not to watch, but to experience. That is how you know it expresses genuine tenderness because it makes you want to do the same in return. In this time where we are lamenting over temporarily forced isolation, we should also take the time to consider those who are isolated in less literal ways every single day of their lives. For them, there is no one-shot vaccine on the horizon, but at least with this film, they can find comfort in the knowledge that others see them and respect their plight. 

Pandemic Picks

I apologize that it is has been a while since my last posting. I'm not sure if any of you have heard, but the world has come down with a very nasty case of the flu. During this time of considerable uncertainty, fear and anxiety aplenty so many of us turn to televisions as a means of escape as well as information. Since it is unclear at the present time just how long society will be on "pause", many of my future posts will likely be clustered such as this one, with my critiques on pieces of film and television that I have watched or am watching during this indefinite downtime. Here are three from the last few weeks.

Frozen 2

A few weeks ago my friend Kelly and I decided to put our Disney+ subscriptions to good use and had a Disney Movie Marathon. We specifically chose to watch some of the delightful (I use that word delicately) direct-to-video sequels that Disney became known for throughout the late 90s and early 2000s. The main concept behind the creation of these sequels was to capitalize on the mass success Disney was having and had in the past at the movie theatre, but instead of the payday coming from the box office, it came from VHS sales. These sequels typically took a deep dive in terms of quality. The same voice cast didn't always return nor did the same members of the creative team resulting in distinct differences that were hard to go unnoticed. When John Lasseter became CEO of Disney Animation Studios, he put a halt on these discount bin sequels in favor of focusing on more original content and durable IP. Frozen 2 (2019) should go down in history as the first truly successful, theatrically-released sequel featuring Disney Princesses. Everything the direct-to-video sequels get wrong, Frozen 2 ensures ten times over that it gets right. Not only does the same creative team and voice cast return, but their passion and respect for the material return with them. The music in the sequel plays a more intricate role in articulating the complex thematic material that the characters are dealing with in the plot than in the first film. Themes of self-identity, grief and loss, mortality and personal responsibility are all explored at various points through lyrical content and dialogue, alongside the ever-impressive visuals the animation team has conjured up for this second snowy adventure. The film feels relevant and topical in its exploration of how we should treat the "others" in our life, though some will question if this moral statement is heavy-handed or not. In my opinion, the film effectively states that in one way or another, we are all an "other" to someone else in the world. Elsa's character remains single and sexually ambiguous, and the sequel reinforces the notion that her story does not need a love interest to stay potent and interesting. Disney sequels have a habit of miss-using side characters in sequels (see Mushu in Mulan 2 (2004)), but Olaf's character arc in this film is even more heartening and relatable than the first. The sequel is less self-referential than its predecessor about the tropes that it breaks, but there are a select few lines of commentary made by Olaf that highlight how the Frozen films are working against type. For example, the lovable snowman's statement about Anna being unusually blind to Hans's shadiness in the first film. While some of it feels like familiar territory, such as Kristoff's nervousness over his impending proposal to Anna or Olaf's unsurprising resurrection in the climax, it is the sheer likability of the characters and the precision in which their meaningful journeys are crafted that allow these minor narrative transgressions to be forgivable. We want to see Anna, Elsa and company again because we enjoy watching them grow and evolve into new people as we are doing in our own lives. The Toy Story franchise understood this as well. No one remains the same forever. We are all changing and evolving as we enter into the unknown void that is our futures. See what I did there. Isolation has made me funnier.

Okay, maybe I should leave the jokes to the adorable anamorphic reindeer.

High School Musical: The Musical: The Series

What seems like it should've been a no-brainer for me to watch as soon as it debuted, took me quite some time, and a pandemic to start watching. I wasn't the hugest High School Musical (2006) fan. When the film came out, I was ten years old and still developing my hobbies, my likes and dislikes. I knew musicals attracted me, but there was a certain level of shame associated with young men who enjoyed the idea of running around and singing a show-tune, and so any attraction I had toward the film I kept to myself. I even made conscious choices to distance myself from its subsequent sequels even though by that time, the franchise was well accepted into popular culture by both young men and women. I was jaded by this point in a way, having developed passions for more thematically weighty musical films like Rent (2005) and Hairspray (2007). There wasn't room for East High Wildcats in my heart, too little too late. Still, Efron, Hudgens and co feel like staples of my childhood by their mere frequent presence on TV, radio, merchandise etc. Having been such a devout Gleek for so many years, it felt wrong to not give a musical show a chance. In may ways High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (its exhausting to type, let alone, say) owes a great deal to the Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Ian Brennan hit show. Had it not paved the way for musicals on television, many would have laughed at the absurdity of attempting a project on Disney+, regardless of the popularity of the IP that preceded it. The series borrows both triumphant elements from Glee (2009) as well as problematic qualities. Both had difficulty balancing satirical and dramatic tones, making it tricky to decipher if they were critiquing their subject matter or attempting to visually articulate a semi-realistic depiction of what it is like to practice the Performing Arts. Some characters like the cartoonish Mr Mazzara, a villainous STEM teacher who is critical of the school's focus on the Arts come off too strong and feel as though they belong on another show altogether. The show doesn't bother to clarify that two of its main characters are cousins until the second episode, and having watched the first three I am still confused as to why they've chosen a seemingly needless mockumentary-style like a junior version of The Office (2005). Most of the commentary given by the characters during their interviews is far less interesting than the actions they take and words they say when they are not acknowledging the camera. The new music is catchy, effective, and pairs well with the unforgettable tunes from the original film that we all know and love, or for many others adamantly detest. Much of the plot seems predictable, who will end up with whom by the end and why (am I really supposed to believe Nini stays with EJ?) but to be fair we didn't fall in love with the original film because it surprised us with its twists; we loved it because it was a formula we were familiar with, newly packaged in a fresh and invigorating way. This may be a bit bias, but I believe the new series is at its best when it is exploring the world of the theatrical arts than when it is merely serving us some reconstructed 21st Century 90210 (1990) dramedy fanfare. One thing Glee never did highlight well enough was how difficult the world of high school theater is to navigate when the very people that you are befriending one day are your competition the next. I hope the rest of this freshman season focuses more on the theatrical experiences of its young and vibrant cast and less on regurgitating plots and characters that have frankly been done to death at this point across multiple franchises and entertainment platforms. 

I also believe than when social-distancing is over we should all perform "We're All in This Together" out in the streets together as one unified, Zac Efron-adoring society.

Uncut Gems

This is not Adam Sandler's first venture into dramatic work. The critically and commercially divided Reign Over Me (2007) highlighted Sandler's capacity to evoke an emotional reaction out of an audience that was something other than laughter. Much of his performance in Uncut Gems (2019) is different than his past efforts in the drama genre. His performance is more operatic than anything else, and the film rises and falls on his ability to keep us engaged in his character's debauchery. The film pushes us into this character's chaotic world with a jolt. We don't get much explained to us. Instead, we must carefully watch Howard and his interactions with those around him in his life in order to understand how he operates. However, the film's plot isn't very interested in exploring why Howard is the way that he is. His compulsive lying and gambling is simply a character trait without origin it would seem. The rest of the performers around him play their parts well, but it is Howard's hyperactive persona that continuously draws the audience's eyes. Idina Menzel has little to do as a Bravo Housewife knock-off, but she does illustrate some seismic chemistry with Sandler in key scenes. The dialogue is very naturalistic and un-stylized with character's speaking in a way you'd expect them to if these were real-life situations, messy and fragmented. The dialogue isn't there to service the viewer's understanding of the story in a spoon-feeding kind of manner, and rather it is utilized to more strongly depict the world of these characters and how they choose to best navigate through verbal jousting of several varieties. Julia Fox, who plays Howard's employee and girlfriend does an exceptionally fine job of using her dialogue to create a believable character, aggravating and still somehow sympathetic by the film's inevitable conclusion. The pacing of the film is carefully mapped out by the Safdie Brothers and yet the whole two hours and fifteen minutes feel like a whirlwind akin to Dorothy in the tornado on her way to Oz. Howard never has a true moment of stability during the film's entire runtime, and because of that, neither does the viewer That helps highlight the consistent and endless uncertainty that comes with living the life of a gambler. Ultimately Uncut Gems is a film worth taking a gamble on, if only out of sheer appreciation for the inventiveness of the Safdie Brothers and the enthusiasm with which Adam Sandler attacks his latest cinematic role after several years of ho-hum performances in less than stunning comedies.

I wish you all good health and safety during this frightening time. Stay strong, social distance and of course wash your hands to your favorite 40-seconds of literally any given song in the history of music. When you need a mental cleansing, turn to your televisions and enter a world beyond this one.  A world where at the very least you have the control to pause, fast-forward and rewind to your heart's content. You are not in control of this situation, but you are in control of how you can survive it alongside those you love and care about—all my love and good energies your way, happy streaming. 

This Just in: The Morning Show (Season 1) Review

Good Morning, Good Afternoon and Good Evening, everyone. This is "Marco Watches it, Marco Means it," and I am Marco Amato. Our top story today is about AppleTV and its first foray into the entertainment streaming landscape, The Morning Show. It is obvious why Apple selected this particular show to lead its new streaming service into the already inflated world of scripted television. Led by Jennifer Aniston, Reese Witherspoon, and a questionably casted Steve Carrell, the series covers the fallout on a popular morning news program after its lead anchor has been ousted due to allegations of sexual misconduct with multiple women. It is considered the first television show of the modern era to tackle the MeToo Movement exclusively. How well it does that is still up in the air for many viewers. Let's take a closer look at this ongoing story of corporate corruption and shameless ambition. 

Developing Story: 

It is no secret that critics did not well receive The Morning Show during early preview screenings of the first three episodes. Many found it to be a vapid and superficial vanity project, topical but unsustainably built upon a foundation of artificial substance and misguided intentions. As the series progressed, it seemed to gain its narrative footing and fell back into the good graces of a majority of critics. The finale, in particular, has been lauded for its unfiltered advocation for systematic change within our corrupt systems. The show has even garnered significant recognition in the current award season bracket. Did the show actually get better, or did we just come to contextualize it differently than we had initially anticipated once we had the whole picture? This reviewer has decided to examine multiple areas of this project, both the good, not so good, and the always popular "good but should be considered bad." 

Top Story: 

Much like the contentious discussions around the topic of sexual harassment and misconduct currently being had on a national level, The Morning Show has important things to say and valid points to make but sometimes fails to bring a necessary subtlety to these sensitive issues. It suffers from an innate desire to sensationalize an adolescent-like need for affirmation. "Aren't we brave for telling this story?" It is a question the members of the writer's room must have presented to themselves privately or publicly at least once during the development of this serial drama. When it comes to its two leading starlets, Alex's story takes clear dominance over Bradley, but this is a result of the writing as opposed to the individual performances of the actresses themselves. Bradley does not come off as a fully realized person in the first two episodes, and it takes time for Witherspoon to get adjusted into her skin, not to mention that brunette wig. Once she and the writers have a clearer understanding of how Bradley functions and what she can bring of value to the story, she begins to carry her own dramatic weight truly. Alex, on the other hand, is compelling and relatable upon first meeting. We don't necessarily like her, but unlike Bradley's forced journalistic piousness, the writers and Aniston don't seem concerned with whether or not we do, in fact, like Alex at all. All we owe Alex is that we shut the fuck up and listen to her; whether or not you like what she says is entirely up to you, and she knows it. Aniston's past experience as a comedic actress do her well when the material goes off the rails; she has the foresight to rein her performance back in. Steve Carrell's inherent likability almost immediately pollutes a viewer's ability to be subjective in their judgments of his character even after his heinous crimes become abundantly clear. Carrell uses his performance often to highlight the absurdities of those who brutalize abd their common defenses. It is him that we see last before the final episode cuts to end credits, sitting alone at a dining table. We should feel satisfied by his isolation, and yet it still seems the show wants us to retain some iota of sympathy for this morally depraved man.

Billy Crudup's Corey Ellison is a television executive who often behaves like the viewing audience he is creating content for. When drama flairs up, Corey is delighted and takes sincere pleasure in either inserting himself into it, or standing comfortably on the sidelines to watch it unfold. You're practically waiting for him to take out a bucket of popcorn and start munching down on it at any given moment. Corey is symbolically representative of the streaming audience enjoying the action as it unfolds from a comfortable, dissociative distance. He is a content creator fulfilling his own need for entertaining content to consume. This is just one of the many ways the show often appears self-indulgent as if it exists exclusively to be either praised or critiqued, just so long as you are watching. In that sense, it finds meta-kinship with current broadcast journalism. 

In Other News:

The show has a race issue, but it is one that can be potentially fixed if given appropriate attention in its sophomore season. In the narrative of the freshmen year season, however, women of color are mostly made to suffer as white women act as their saviors, at times even tormentors. This would feel more reflective of factual racial disparities that occur in the corporate world, except we don't get to see these women get much reclamation. Alex's coded apology to Mia in the final minutes of the finale felt half-hearted and tossed in for good measure, rather than being a critical story beat that would rectify their severely
damaged professional relationship. While Mia gets her big speech moment in episode seven, it doesn't do much to shift the biased mindset of a majority of her co-workers. No, this prestige goes instead to Alex and Bradley in the finale, two women culpable (in very different ways mind you) in the degradation of once strong and powerful black women. Mia is brushed off as the "loud and angry" black girl while Alex is poised and passionate in her on-camera evisceration of misogyny. Much like in reality, Alex, as an affluent white woman, has access to a much larger platform than Mia, though both wish to make very similar messages about workplace behavior. Hannah played phenomenally by the still under-appreciated Gugu Mbatha-Raw has similar difficulties in appearing adequately represented in a show that is clearly more invested in the story of powerful white people than in the destructive nature those people's actions have towards people of color. Hannah is first presented as one of the most tactful members of TMS, and as the show progresses we begin to notice her discomfort with how events are transpiring. Still, these subtle visual hints aren't expanded upon until a late in the season flashback episode unveils her terrible encounter with Mitch inside a Vegas hotel room. This scene is shot with a reasonable degree of sensitivity as it focuses exclusively on Hannah's increasingly evident discomfort and not Mitch's carnal sexual gratification. Hannah's demise at her own hands is troublesome to me as a viewer, however. She will no longer be the author of her narrative. Instead, this job goes to people like Bradley, who hardly knew her. While the "sacrifice" might be narratively justified to raise the stakes of consequence for characters like Fred and Mitch, it is a loss the finale treats as a momentary setback. I'm sure justice for Hannah will come next season, but the problem is that it will come too late. While that may speak true to similarly tragic real-life incidents, perhaps the show should focus less on replicating societal mistakes and more so on how we can do better. How can we save people like Hannah, so that their sacrifices never have to occur in the first place? Why does someone have to die so that Alex finally has the motivation to break away from the boy's club and fight back? Adina Porter, another black actress of notable talent, is set on the back burner as Alex's agent, and we can only hope that she has more to do in season 2. The show needs to bring its characters of color, especially the women front and center next season and allow them to gain control of their own narrative and not allow it to be hijacked and re-contextualized by "well-intentioned" women like Alex and Bradley.  

B-Roll: 

The show's B-plots are unsurprisingly its least interesting moments. Alex and Bradley's troubled home lives encompass plotlines involving drug-addicted siblings, deteriorating marital ties, and strained parental relationships, all of which don't have the time to be developed into anything of much notoriety or intrigue. They are merely there to remind us again that Alex and Bradley behind the stage lights, make-up, and colorful anchor desk are two imperfect and flawed human beings, as susceptible to heartache and tragedy as their home viewers. The show is best when it doesn't belabor on these plots. Unfortunately, season 2 is bound to give them more attention than they probably deserve. An exception to this is Aniston's darkly comedic monologue on motherhood that she gives to her daughter in the form of a very harsh (yet again undeniably hilarious to some extent) verbal berating. Aniston in this and so many scenes make the often overcooked writing, particularly the dialogue, palatable to the human eyes and ears. The other exception to these otherwise unremarkable secondary storylines is the subplot involving Yanko and Claire's (the TMS's weatherman and Bradley's PA, respectfully) ongoing affair. While this plot doesn't have the same deliciously salacious bite as the main story arcs involving Alex, Bradley, and Mitch, it does act as a competent counter-balance to them. While there are plenty of cases of misconduct strewn across the broadcast network landscape specifically, there are also numerous cases of consensual (though not altogether legal) relationships between legal-aged colleagues. These relationships can be complicated and difficult to transverse, and that is what the subplot between Yanko and Claire attempts to highlight to a fair degree of success. Some of these B-Plots also help reinforce the relative notion that this whole conversation of workplace behavior is not a "Men vs. Women" issue but a "Moral vs. Immoral" one.  

Hit or Glitch:  

The Morning Show's season finale aired on the exact same day that the new film Bombshell (2019) was released to theaters nationwide. Bombshell, of course, details the story of how Roger Ailes, the head of Fox News, was taken down by the likes of women such as Gretchen Carlson, Megyn Kelly, and many many more, represented by an amalgamation character portrayed by Margot Robbie. Both the series and the film deal with women triumphing over abusive men in a system that actively works to silence them. Despite the stacked talent, in front of and behind the camera, Bombshell ultimately fails at accurately portraying women as anything other than strongly opinionated victims. It eschews critiquing the problematic track records of Carlson and Kelley and how they contributed to the very system that was now preventing them from justice. It is as if director Jay Roach thought that if he portrayed these women as anything other than brave and justified in the entirety of their actions, audiences would fail to sympathize and relate to their plight. No civilized human being would rationalize that Megyn Kelly deserved to be assailed because she believes Santa is white. The Morning Show has less trepidation regarding its female characters than Roach's film, though perhaps that is because the television show's female characters are entirely fictional. In contrast, Bombshell was dealing with real-life figures that are very much still alive. It is never made clear just how much Alex knew of Mitch's behavior. Still, it became abundantly clear that she knew enough to amass a substantial amount of guilt, which directly contributes to her decision in the final minutes of the finale to go public. Marcia Gay Harden's journalist character shows apparent ambivalence over Fred's immoral actions, and she's just interested in what the best (most salacious) story for her to tell her readers is. The Morning Show is unafraid to portray women as occasionally callous and self-serving just as their male counterparts are. This alone allows it to surpass Bombshell despite their similar thematic undertakings, as well as Bombshell having the upper hand of being based on fact instead of fiction. Again the creators of TMS aren't worried about you liking these women. They merely want you to understand the circumstances around which these women made these profoundly personal choices. In Bombshell, we only see the "bravery" aspect to the female protagonists with small glimpses of selfish motivations and problematic viewpoints; not enough to validly portray the complex women that populate its narrative. There is complicity in silence just as there is in action. The Morning Show accepts this regardless of gender for the most part, while Bombshell acts willfully ignorant of it when it comes to its most central female figures.  

Stay With Us: 

Season 2 will be a true testament to whether or not this polarizing and addictive show has something verifiably compelling to offer the MeToo Movement and invested audiences alike. Showing the travesty itself is the relatively easy part to some extent. The showrunner, writers, and even the actors themselves had plenty of real-life material to use as inspiration. Showing us the aftermath of that explosive fallout, and how the corrupt institutions may be amended, if at all, that is the real challenge facing the show and facing us as a society currently. Let us not forgot with each passing day more Weinstein's, Lauer's, and Kessler's are discovered, and their victims, co-workers, and families are left to clean up their messes. The most glaring takeaway from The Morning Show's freshman season is that most of the time in life, people don't make a mess unnoticed, that mess is made under the neglectful eyes of those who are meant to keep things clean.

Hollywood During the Holidays

In preparation for this festive season of giving, receiving, and giving your mailman a work out in carrying your latest Amazon purchases, nothing beats sitting down after a long day of shopping, caroling, and baking to watch a good movie. With award season looming over us, there has been no short of cinematic treats for us to indulge in as we drink our eggnog (or you know, a beer) and turn on the Christmas Tree lights, because everyone else in the family always forgets to. Here are some of my thoughts on recent films that I've watched this past merry month.

1. Marriage Story (2019) 

While not exactly the Kramer vs. Kramer (1979) of our generation, Noah Baumbach's drama about a playwright and actress struggling to find common ground amid a tumultuous set of divorce proceedings sometimes feels tonally unaware of how it is coming off to the audience. This is a time where you don't have to look far in terms of cinema or television to find an outlandishly loud argument scene between two white, middle-aged adults. Johansson and Driver often lack unified coherency as they exchange verbal blows back and forth, and one can't help but wonder if these tense scenes would've played out just the same if the actors had shot each of their respected material separately. When it comes to grandstanding, Driver is the less guilty of the two leads in terms of working off his scene partner rather than just himself. Still, the film boasts some great monologues and sequences that have the theatrical touch one would expect from Baumbach's work and is bolstered by fantastic supporting performances by Laura Dern, Ray Liotta, and the always delightful Julie Hagerty. The film takes the time to explore what divorce looks like in the modern age, especially among the privileged upper classes of American society. Liotta and Dern alternate from hospitable to hostile in a matter of seconds during each and every scene they participate in, and this helps illustrate the complex dynamics that go into getting what's rightfully yours after the disintegration of a marriage, along with perhaps just a little extra. No matter how many accolades it accumulates during award season, Baumbach and co can find solace in the fact that this film has at the very least been solidified into meme history thanks to Twitter's relentlessly clever users.

2. The Irishman (2019)

Though a miniseries might have functionally been a more ideal route to take, the pacing is undeniably a strong suit of Martin Scorsese's latest cinematic venture. The Irishman features everything one expects from a Scorsese film, violence, witty voice-over monologues, and engrossing visuals of human depravity in its various facets. These essential components alongside a reunion of Robert De Niro, Al Pacino and the greatly missed Joe Pesci don't break new ground but do re-explore the beautiful caverns of stunning artistic prowess that made Scorsese the beacon of Hollywood reverence he is today when he's not insulting Bob Iger's work. It gives an interesting, if not a scandalous interpretation of one of American cultures' greatest historical mysteries; what became of Jimmy Hoffa? Despite upset from some viewers, I personally found Anna Paquin to be incredibly impactful in her mostly silent supporting role as De Niro's character's daughter. Her face emotes so much raw tension that adding dialogue to it would just have been a moot point. Scorsese understands that the visual will always outweigh the auditory when done correctly, and there is so much about The Irishman that is correct, so much so that we can easily forgive the parts that appear reductive or overly familiar. Whether digitally de-aged or layered in geriatric prosthetics, these artists in front and behind the camera prove that their crafts have only ripened with time passed.

3. Hustlers (2019)

A good heist film is not always easy to come by these days, and ones whi features strong and believable female characters are nearly impossible to find. Oceans 8 (2018) managed to have some fun but hardly contained even a quarter of the character development available within this film's ensemble cast. Constance Wu leads the film in a role that feels like she's flexing new acting muscles in every scene and Jennifer Lopez, who manages a striking balance between conniving and compassionate throughout the entire film. This is the first time in a long time that Lopez has been able to play such a dynamic and multilayered character. The film takes the time to develop the core friendship that ultimately leads the two desperate but cunning women into a life of crime. A disappointing fact of the plot is that other potentially interesting female characters disappear halfway through, such as those played by singer Lizzo, and rapper, Cardi B. These characters are replaced by stick-figured drug addicts who echo a shallowness one normally associates with poorly written female characters that come from the minds of misguided men. Julia Stiles feels oddly cast as a journalist who is piecing the whole narrative together via an interview with Wu's character, but her presence is welcomed nonetheless. Despite a majority of the film being set at a strip club and featuring half-dressed women, the camera never feels like it is objectifying them but rather observing their actions and misdeeds like a Nat Geo cameramen observes a lion mauling a zebra to survive. In this case, the women are the zebras, but they are the ones mauling the lions now. The film sheds light on unlikely victims of the economic crash in 2008. It looks to unveil harsh truths about the lustful and greedy society we live in rather than make easy excuses for our protagonists' questionable actions. Hustlers is a film that is freshly invigorating from start to finish. Director/writer Lorene Scafaria is likely not going to get the recognition she deserves for making a film so undeniably sexy without it being at the expense of the personal integrity of its female characters.  

4. A Beautiful Day in The Neighborhood (2019)


Those who haven't been paying close enough attention to this film's ad campaign may be surprised to find out that Mr. Rogers is not the main character. Instead, the film follows a surly journalist who is forced to do an op-ed on everyone's favorite neighbor. The film contains many visual homages to the transformative children's show that its story is set around, making the viewer feel as though they are reentering childhood even if you aren't especially familiar with the original television program. Tom Hanks, of course, shines in the prominent role. Still, actors like Matthew Rhys, Susan Kelechi Watson, and the ever endearing Chris Cooper add additional tenderness to the story. The film somehow manages not to oversaturate us with sentimentality, because it is well aware that most childhoods are far from a walk down a quaint suburban street. It isn't afraid to let us feel pain and sorrow but is instead interested in exploring how we survive and thrive despite these difficult emotions. It is in every way in line with the original manifesto Mr. Rogers had. He wanted to show children that they could be heard, and the film makes us not only want to speak out for ourselves but listen more to those around us as well.