Monsters of Television

“I am a blowfish!”

Sadly and inevitably, I’m going to compare this show to Weeds (since Breaking Bad is a clinic in how to turn a mild-mannered person into a kingpin) in every post and I’d rather not start every piece I write by bashing Nancy Botwin. It feels repetitive to me and I’m sure it’s tiresome to you. So I’m going to compare it to Houseinstead.

Obviously, the two men, Walt and House, are not the same kind of character, particularly since Walt is a man of strict discipline and House spends a good portion of his time flouting the sanctity of such a thing. House tends toward entropy, convinced nothing can be achieved without a little bit of chaos, while Walt works best when working through a plan. What the men share are inspired moments by their cast sidekicks. How many times have you seen House, after a conversation with Wilson, do what Walt does in “4 Days Out” after Jesse mentions “battery.” To House, this is a Sherlock Holmes moment, his revelation where the puzzle finally fits together. Breaking Bad is (clearly) less procedural but his supernatural understanding of nature (comparable to House’s) allows him to have what I’ll call a Mr Wizard moment where he cobbles a plan together based on science.

I’m at once pleased to see these moments, disappointed they don’t come up more often, and glad that they are so rare. Walt’s revelation caps a nice arc where Team Heisenberg starts to feel the cost of doing business, not only with the business itself but also in how it affects them personally. And it all starts off with a great cold opening featuring the ballad of our friend Heisenberg and flashed images of Breaking Bad future. Read more »

It has been a few days, and I still cannot get that image of Jason Stackhouse out of my mind.

I’m going to go on the record and say that Crystal’s rape of Jason was not only super icky but also downright disturbing. This man has been captured, stored in a freezer, tied to a disgusting bed, tortured (repeated panther bites sure qualifies), drugged (with Viagra, to facilitate the forced sex, ‘natch), and then raped while a crowd of female onlookers watch.

The worst part of that line of female onlookers is that I wondered if the show wants me to see all of them as in a queue to hop on board.  Gross.

Jason Stackhouse is a rather clueless character. But he has heart, so even when he becomes super annoying, he always find a way to bring you back in. Often, his storylines are frustrating because you just wish he would open his eyes and stop talking to that super dangerous woman (with each season, just insert a different dangerous woman, and you have Jason’s storylines pretty much summed up). Yes, I have sometimes wanted to fast forward his scenes. Yes, his ripped bare chest has often been his primary redeeming feature.

But the character, even a horndog character likes this, does not deserve this story line.

Let’s think about all the ways this storyline can go really, really wrong. It will be something along these lines…

1)   Someone assumes a man can’t be raped, particularly by a woman

2)   Someone laughs at the notion that Jason would be upset to be raped by a hot woman

3)   Someone notes that Jason has already slept with Crystal, so it can’t be rape

4)   Someone suggests that within a love relationship, only assault (not rape) is possible

5)   Someone comments that Jason is a slut, so he got what was coming to him (there are many variations on this theme—he should have known better than to hang out with a bunch of panthers, etc.)

6)   Jason falls back in love with Crystal through this experience

I could probably go on, but let me tell you what all the above statements have in common. They are all vicious, vicious lies. And we tell them all the freakin’ time.

Perhaps part of the reason I am troubled is that we’ve been here before with True Blood. Tara, who is still the reigning champion of annoying characters (but don’t worry, Tara, there is such a long line of characters behind you vying for the title, I’m sure you can hand over the crown soon enough), but she, too, did not deserve to be raped, tortured, and manipulated by a psychotic supernatural.

Tara’s storyline was almost made too easy. Franklin Mott had zero redeeming value. He was a monster, and acted accordingly. The role of the rape in Tara’s storyline was to encourage her finally to stand up for herself. This is not an unknown trope with young female characters. In its more banal form, Marianne of Sense and Sensibility has to be brutalized (emotionally) in order to mature.  Yet even there, the sense that a part of her character (the part that shines brightly) has to be forced out of her by pain and anguish disturbs me.  You see, Marianne has to be broken to be ready for real love with a more appropriate partner.

Is rape a narrative trope? One that makes annoying characters more sympathetic/strong? Is it how we tame characters that reach too far beyond likeability or believability?

One other important point for the True Blood writers: rape is not sexy. If I ever see even the tiniest hint that Jason’s victimization by Crystal should arouse me, I’m going to be very angry. True Blood has a lot of investment in sexiness—just look at that poster with Sookie and the three men that vie for her heart. True Blood achieves sexiness in the most unexpected places—most often when characters stare longingly or the sexual tension becomes palpable. But quite frequently the sexiness is not achieved in the bedroom (or bathroom stall, whatev’)—that is just mechanics. Real sexiness happens in the moments that lead to the bedroom.

I may be exposing my gender here. I am not aroused (often) by explicit sexuality. But I am quite aroused by sexiness. As once discussed in a podcast available on this site, the gross use of nudity on Game of Thrones disappointed me less because I’m a prude and more because I like genuine sexiness.

But when rape is the center of the storyling, I want responsible writing. Rape is not a topic television has to avoid, per se (this was a question posed after the rape storyline on Private Practice played out during the last season of that show). However, how rape should be displayed, for what purpose, and to what extent is a very tricky issue, and the line between honest depiction of a human experience of violence and downright exploitation is very, very thin.

I’m not sure how True Blood plans ot handle this story with Jason. My fear derives in part from the fact that he’s male, making the depiction of male rape one that can educate or one that can resort to all the worst stereotypes about aggressive male sexuality. But I’m also afraid because Jason is the comedy relief. If he has become a victim of a violent crime, will the show be willing to portray his trauma without a snicker? Without Jason being unintentionally funny? Because again, there is nothing (may I repeat, NOTHING) funny about rape. Ever. I hope you know what you are doing with this storyline, True Blood.

“Nobody even noticed.”

This show is forever being compared to Weeds by people who don’t know any better and, as I approach the middle of season 2, I’m starting to see that the show is slowly drifting toward trying to be the antipode of the goofy, almost slapstick nature of the Showtime series in every way. Like Walt keeping an actual job in conjunction with his drug trade (no matter how impossible it seems that he can maintain both) vs Nancy’s flighty and short-lived attempts at legitimacy. Or Walt having to contend with struggles inflicted upon him while Nancy usually deals with problems she gets herself into. Or Walt having no need for a comedy troupe to back him up, instead partnering with a character that could easily be a cheap stereotype but is nothing of the sort.

As Breaking Bad develops, it’s almost like the show is purposefully wrecking the comparison. As we sink deeper with Walt and Jesse, another comparison comes to mind: Spring in Requiem for a Dream. Just as Tyrone and Harry come up with the idea to distribute their own product, so do our hapless heroes here. And just with that movie, as things start to go well, we can only assume disaster and doom are sure to follow. I’m not saying that Badger is going to end up in a hotel room with an old man demanding “ass to ass.” But I’m also not saying that’s out of the question.

During lunch last week, Noel and I discussed how the build up to the mid-season was where the show finally recovered from the writers’ strike and started to really build where it wanted to go. Fittingly, this is where Jesse uses the phrase “the ground floor,” and it means so many things for this show at this point of the series. It’s a new beginning for them, a new direction. And, really, it’s all downhill from here. In a good way. Well, good for us. Bad for Spooge.
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“It’s a dangerous mountain. There could be some polar bears or ill tempered Eskimos.”

Leverage‘s return left a bittersweet taste in my mouth. Sometimes the cons are just silly. Or boring. But it’s that oh so lovable ragtag group of liars, cheats and thieves turned do-gooders that keep us coming back. “The Long Way Down Job” was a prime example of why those who are fans of the show love it and why its naysayers are so adamantly against it.

A mountaintop is just not a place for the team to be. It’s a very challenging terrain. A hacker is almost no good because, as evidenced, signals are lost all the time and communication is hard to maintain. Sure Parker climbs buildings, but a mountain is a totally different story. Eliot is just good at everything so he should be fine.

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“Nothing’s going to get that taste out of my mouth.”

Aw, yeah. It’s the summer and, here it is: a podcast slightly transformed. Just a bit of break from the norm — in that Matt couldn’t make it so we’re a beast short. Karen, Nick, and Noel make do, though, by giving some serious discussion to the all set-up Game of Thrones season finale and the much ballyhooed ender to The Killing while tossing around some Lost references in Matt’s honor. Then we look at some summer programming and shrug our shoulders at it because it’s summer and we’re not supposed to take summer programming seriously. Right? That’s why television’s the way it is right now. Right? Riiiiight. So just sit back and unwind.

Here’s the blog post we mention a couple of times from @ErikaJL simply titled “Sansa.”

Running time: 77 minutes

• Game of Thrones season finale: 0:01:24
• The Killing season finale: 0:30:50
• Wilfred: 0:42:10
• Louie: 0:48:03
• Suits: 0:54:30
• Walking Skies Falling Skies: 1:00:01
• Love Bites: 1:05:29
• The Voice: 1:11:40

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

“Ding!”

Noel did a write-up of Breaking Bad Season 1 back in April but, unlike him, I’ve always been intrigued by the show but never got around to actually watching (whereas he caved to peer pressure). Part of it was because I have a tangle of other shows that dominate my weeks and part of it was that I have absolutely no excuses whatsoever. I’m inherently lazy and the thought of sitting through another show was just too much. Not to mention I had a feeling a show about a dude with cancer paying the bills by selling meth would have the same marathon effect on me that Six Feet Under would have: clinical depression and a number of medications just to stay stable.

But, happily, Breaking Bad is different than I expected and doesn’t make me feel like a raincloud-haunted iota. There’s action! Drama that’s not cancer-related! Comedy that works and doesn’t just elucidate the hopelessness of the characters’ situations, further driving you into an existential tailspin! No, Breaking Bad is a different kind of show. As most of you probably know because you’ve watched it already.

If you haven’t watched it, let me tell you now that this intends to be spoilerific (terrific in spoilers). I ask that, at the very least, you catch up on the episodes in the title (since I’m writing these posts before any knowledge of the show’s future) since, as witty and charming as I am via prose, the series itself is far better than my analysis of it.

Especially since I’m going to, inevitably, compare it to Chuck and Weeds. You write what you know.

Read on, you cool babies!

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“Why don’t you pull out your smartphone and tweet about your newfound love of social justice.”

The title of this episode is somewhat misleading. Yes, the search for Bay’s father is a plot point but it’s a very B, maybe C plot point. And John is such a terrible father/person that I refuse to believe this title is about him as well. But we’ll get into all of that.

My reviews of Switched at Birth should just be running counts and commentary on the uncomfortable, arrogant, racist things Kathryn says or does. After an awkward run-in with a neighbor, she feels the need to define the relationship between the two families to save face. Chicks, man. Why can’t they just let stuff be what it is?

She continues her reign of terror by expressing her discomfort with Regina having clients from her old neighborhood coming to the house so she can do their hair. Cause I’m sure when crime broke out in Regina’s old neighborhood it was the short, gray-haired old ladies who were mugging people and holding up the liquor store at gunpoint. Read more »

“I’ll not sit meekly by and wait for the snows.”

This was pretty standard for a season finale. Admittedly, the season reached a climax at the end of last week so it’s only to be expected that the finale essentially ties up its one big loose end (Daenerys) and then spends the rest of the episode putting the pieces where they need to be when the next season starts. It’s essentially season 2, episode 00.

And there’s nothing wrong with that at all. Indeed, this first season really feels more like prologue to whatever is to come after, and probably should be treated as such. But it’s not very good, even as a prologue. The first half failed  to make connections between sexposition sequences and the larger narrative world, leaving me feeling talked at and without a sense of what was at stake here. The second half tried to pay off some of that, and while I enjoyed the last five hours more then the first five, I didn’t know why I needed to care who was on the Iron Throne.

And I still don’t. Read more »

Obviously, plenty of spoilers for both shows follow.

Post-apocalyptic survival has always been a great source of entertainment and storytelling and no two shows have garnered more buzz in the last year than AMC’s The Walking Dead and TNT’s Falling Skies. While the two programs give us very different looks at a very similar overall idea (scrounging for survival), the differences between the shows indicate one is clearly superior to the other.

AAAAAND FIGHT!

For starters, the shows treat action in very different ways. The Walking Dead is actually pretty boring when it comes to this point. For its six episode first season there is not a lot going on in terms of excitement. Is there peril? Sure, but there is not nearly enough ass-kicking, head-exploding action one would expect from the genre. Some will make the argument that AMC has made a “classy” zombie show. They weren’t looking to be all gore and scares, you know, things inherent of the genre. Yeah they kill a zombie every now and then and yeah there was that terrible (CG wise, not plot wise. Well…plot wise too) explosion in the finale, but I needed more! With Falling Skies, we get action left and right. Between the aliens (who we actually get to see. Take that, V!) and the mechs and the ships and the outlaw group there is plenty of stuff to shoot at, hide from and blow up.  The show is incredibly action-packed. When you’re fighting for survival it’s nice to see some actual fighting. And they did it in one-third the amount of episodes. Read more »

“Love is the death of duty.“

Last week, Noel Murray at the TV Club wrote an essay entitled “When spoilers help: The Game of Thrones defense.” (There are no spoilers in the essay, so you can click in safety.) Murray took an opposite approach from me when he settled in for Game of Thrones: he looked up stuff, consulted viewers’ guides, and felt it better equipped him to enjoy the series.

And when I say that he took the opposite approach from me, I mean it. I avoided any and all information about the series. I knew about the casting, sure, but I didn’t know anything about Westeros or what a Dothraki was, or how to spell Targareny Tagareynen Targaryen. I went in completely and utterly cold to a series, which is something of an abnormality for me. I like to do research because I do like to know if a series is worth 4 to 6 hours of my time (the minimum range I give hour-long dramas to grab me), even more so if I’m going to write about the damn thing.

(For what it’s worth, I part of me wish I had done what Murray had done, but I don’t think it would’ve helped many of my problems with the series.)

I’m not a complete spoilerphobe, though I’ve certainly come a long way from where I used to be. I used to purposefully spoil myself about Lost, but stopped after I thought I had figured out the twist in the season 3 finale, and then used spoilers to confirm (I was correct, by the way). After that experience, I stopped visiting SpoilerFix or frequenting sites that prided themselves on such scoops.

In the process of learning how to spell Targaryen, I spoiled myself in minor ways. For instance, I knew about the coup in advance while I looked up bits about Syrio, and was able to draw theories about what would instigate it (I was correct about the death, though not about the boar). Otherwise, I went to incredible lengths to avoid plot points about Game of Thrones.

Thanks to Twitter, I was able to avoid looking at information about ABC’s upfronts, as they provided a big old spoiler for a currently running cable program. Given that the only cable program running at the time where spoilers would matter was this one, I stayed away from stuff about the upfronts.

But then I stupidly read something on ABC’s Web site for its fall shows (I didn’t know which show had the spoiler in the press release/description/cast), and was spoiled for this episode. Read more »