Been getting to the bottom of the bottom getting to me
Holding up the mirror to everything I don’t want to see
But it ain’t all flowers
Sometimes you gotta feel the thorns
And when you play with
The Devil you know you gonna get the horns Whah-hooooooo-hooo-hooo!
That visceral howl WHAH-HOOO-HOOO-HOOO in the grungy, swirling psychedelic track It Ain’t All Flowers closing out Sturgill Simpson’s sophomore album hits a gong deep in the heart. There’s pain & the outlasting/pyrrhic defeat of pain in the howl… a 21st century rebel yell from the wrong side of Appalachia… a wolfman made of used-up ore howling into void… only an ex-coal-country man’s howl could resonate like that. Every time it makes me wince; it’s a cry that stings you.
That authentic texture, something deep and real in the layers of sound … that is what makes Sturgill Simpson’s latest album Metamodern Sounds in Country Music so interesting and special.
It also makes the album needful of hi-def. Without, at bare minimum, good headphones and big-pipe streaming, the music is flattened, sound is removed, you lose layers, the resonances, and that howl doesn’t seem interesting and goes right past you. The album lends itself to hi-fi analog, to vinyl, so it’s no surprise the first pressing of 10,000-vinyl Metamodern Sounds in Country Music records seemed to sell out instantly.
Spotify gets you closer to hi-fidelity sound than most:
It wasn’t until I was 11 or so when I learned that not all country music is awful, woeful crying, guys bemoaning what they’ve lost over sorrowful tunes. Lost mah truck, mah woman and mah dawg. I started to realize there’s more to country than that, that some country is good, with instrument-playing talent high.
An understanding of folk and country is essential to have cultural literacy, common points of reference, etc., as an American; in Stephen King’s novels there are repeated references to Hank Williams Sr. lyrics, to throw up one example. But as a Southerner, understanding country can be crucial, and a healthy appreciation of country can be a social gateway to the South’s biggest musical fandom.
My favorite country nowadays is the more bluegrassy, rockabilly, and folk stuff—throwback folk like Old Crow Medicine Show, indie country like Steve Earle. So Sturgill Simpson is right up my alley.
I rate Metamodern Sounds in Country Music as the must listen country album of 2014 because of the rockabilly country swirled with grunge walls of sound, intricate but never cluttered or overkill-y. It stays straightforward. And most of all for its originality, that it covers unusual subject matter to put it mildly.
In Voices, Simpson contemplates the useless voices of self-doubt, the vapid voices of junk news media, and more (it’s layered). And in the lead-off track Turtles All The Way Down, he lists some of the mind-expanding psychedelic drugs that went into creating the record, following this gem of a stanza…
Bet you didn’t expect THIS in that Kentucky hills accent:
“There’s a gateway in our minds
That leads somewhere out there, far beyond this plane
Where reptile aliens made of light
Cut you open and pull out all your pain”
—Turtles All The Way Down
When the above ^ was played on NPR, I’m sure that listeners worldwide did spit-takes, let the car slip into the wrong lane.
Doubtless the Turtles All The Way Down music video was NOT in the rotation of music videos on CMT. And that Sturgill Simpson detonates country music norms is what makes him so interesting and unique.
I judge every element of an album with the mix, instrument-playing, musical arrangement, lyrics, etc., all having weight. My music reviews don’t hinge solely or predominantly on vocals, which is mostly how music is judged today in the age of The Voice, X-Factor, American Idol, et al.
Sturgill Simpson’s low, East Kentucky hill-man’s country drawl might be jarringly unfamiliar or off-putting for some, especially for ya dadgum Yankees; for me it’s familiar – very like North Carolina hills or North Alabama accents. B+ for vocals.
I give Metamodern Sounds in Country Musicfive out of five rabbits for the sonic tapestries offered, wall of sound-ish but with few instruments, uncomplicated. It Ain’t All Flowers is probably the best example; it closes the album on a front porch-philosopher contemplative note of resignment… psychedelic keyboards—think vaguely funereal Incense & Peppermints—create a dark descending spiral of notes, not as much alt-country on acid as it is acid on country… If you “listen small,” catching the small details and beautiful things, you’ll find a lot to love in Metamodern Sounds.
And, foremost, for its exploration of heretofore-untouched topics. The freshness is super appreciated; hopefully country music will grow some cojones and greenlight more unconventional country albums and offer us fewer cringe-worthy regurgitations of endlessly rehashed country clichés.
The debut of the new Doctor—episode 8.1: Deep Breath—was great,
1. the female Tyrannosaur inadvertently loosed on Victorian London…
CAUTION: Spoilers Ahead
2. Badass lesbian kung fu detectives, one of whom is dino sapiens, in Victorian London.
Madame Vastra, actually part of the Silurian or homo reptilia race, an early Eocene civilization that rose from the dinosaurs and I call dino sapiens, and wife Jenny Flint are awesome leather-clad ninja space detectives who help the police of Victorian London fight crime and kick ass, especially when unusual or otherworldly villainy is afoot.
Apparently awakened from cryo-hibernation by the early construction of the London Underground, explained here, Vastra took to eating Victorian commuters until The Doctor gave her a pep talk. Thereafter, Vastra has mainly limited her diet to the worst of London’s serial killers, child murderers, and the like; she catches them, then “has them for dinner” so to speak.
Madame Vastra and Jenny are totally badass… and after Sontaran nurse Strax was nearly killed alongside the pair while helping The Doctor in the Battle of Demons Run, Strax joined the woman and dino duo in 1888 London. Being an alien potato of non-imposing stature (roughly 5-feet) in appearance and a super aggressive commando programmed to fight for the “glory of the Sontaran Empire” in behavior, Strax doesn’t exactly blend in easily in Victorian London. But his attempts to understand humans from the point of view of a mono-gender world of cloned super soldiers provides a lot of comic relief.
Internet rumors about a Vastra-Jenny-Strax spin-off show are indicative of little more than the three’s huge popularity, but I want to go on record as totally FOR such a TV series! The trio, also known as the Paternoster Gang after their HQ (Vastra’s manse) on Paternoster Row, is a lot of fun, and certainly a big part of why I loved the episode.
3. A scene that confronts Ableism and Agism
This episode is about the new Doctor, The Doctor regenerating into a new body.
During regeneration, disorientation, loss of function and motor control, and sleeping for 24 hours or something are the norm, and there can be regeneration sickness, even regeneration madness as with the Sixth Doctor, who tried to kill his companion Peri during regeneration-related insanity/disorientation. The Tenth Doctor had some regeneration sickness and was revived by a strong cuppa tea.
In this sensitive time of regeneration, The Doctor is… well, disabled doesn’t seem the right word, but certainly vulnerable, not himself, not in his usual fighting shape. The Doctor, the Time Lord who protects all times of Earth’s people, suddenly needs protection. Often, by coincidence or purposefully, alien enemies attack right when The Doctor is least prepared to fight back. This regeneration, The Doctor is disoriented and blacking out when the space detective trio takes him (and Clara) to Paternoster Row, and gives Clara a reality check that is unforgettable.
As the new Doctor is recuperating, Clara, the latest in Doctor Who’s cavalcade of pretty companions, is being weird and whiny about The Doctor regenerating as an older, less flirty, not-Matt-Smith. Madame Vastra reacts by indirectly calling out Clara as a stranger, then dons the veil of srs bzn™ and brings Clara into the sitting room for a serious business sit-down. The exchange that follows is epic, smacking down Clara’s superficiality, agism, ableism. The takeaway: even allies need to check their own biases, reality check. Checketh yourself before you wrecketh yourself.
4. the art direction
Doctor Who keeps getting more beautiful, more well done. This episode didn’t have the type of visual flourish and experimental quick cuts/editing like 6th series (11th Doctor) standout 6.11: The God Complex; it’s visually awesome in its own way. “Deep Breath” has big movie looks, brilliant and cinematic wide shots, and great use of color. Someone behind the camera really understands how color works. It isn’t over-killed thankfully, but different settings have unique color schemes.
The example that sticks out most is the T-Rex post-mortem from a bridge scene, where everything is bathed in orange from the immolated dinosaur. Whatever future technology the villains used to burn the tyrannosaur, it has set the Thames aglow, and in bouncing off the rippling waters, colors everyone in fiery tones.
Fiery rebirth, The Doctor rising from the dino ashes…
5. the villains: Space Age Clockwork Repair Droids
they’re programmed to repair/maintain their ship and themselves by any means necessary, up to and including cannibalizing people for parts. While the Clockwork Droids the 10th Doctor faced seemed almost accidentally villainous, repair AI gone wrong after massive damage, these clockwork droids (evidently from the sister ship Marie Antoinette) seem way more psycho and evil as they seek “The Promised Land,” whatever that is.
We don’t know what caused these droids to come to Earth, whether they (and other robo-foes of The Doctor) were called to Earth but didn’t know what century, or if the Clockwork Droids were trying to find what happened to the sister ship Madame de Pompadour‘s droids The Doctor deactivated in 18th century Versailles, accidentally ended up in Mesozoic times and were tampered with or signaled later on, but the unrelenting drive to get to “The Promised Land” is intriguing.
That these droids would dedicate such an inordinate amount of time and energy to extract parts and skin from people for a hot air balloon of human skin instead of robbing or buying a balloon from the local hot air balloon vendor—by this point, 1898, hot air balloons are a long-established and commonplace technology—and that they would go to the trouble of building and running Mancini’s, like “if Hannibal Lecter were to open an Italian restaurant,” fancy cuisine and YOU are the main course… it means that they are so whacked out, perhaps from all the human elements they’ve incorporated, becoming inverted cyborgs or near it, they’re human-obsessed, now almost singlemindedly people scavenging. That is very creepy, and an excellent nemesis to begin the new Doctor with…
they also look really cool.
The idea of inverted cyborgs, androids using so many human replacement parts they’ve ambiguized the distinction between droid and cyborg but are still computers at base-foundation, networked and controlled by one “control node” android, is fascinating.
And it is a good way to debut the new “The Promised Land” mystery arc.
I think that the “Promised Land”/Missy’s virtual world (see Who is Missy?) is a virtual world, digital world, and that the Half-faced Man is uploaded first is significant. The Half-faced Man is the control node for all the Marie Antoinette clockwork droids, but he awakens in psychotic Mary Poppins’ “paradise” and no clockwork droids reactivated as far as we know. This, and that the miniaturized soldier woman in the following episode is obliterated at the atomic level but appears whole and non-miniaturized in Missy’s “heaven,” implies that the consciousness is being uploaded at the moment of death, NOT the body moved. So far, all Missy’s “guests” are from atomized or abandoned dead bodies, and this leads me to believe that the Great Intelligence, or somebody/something with G.I.-esque upload abilities, is uploading people killed in The Doctor’s missions.
6. The Doctor (now Peter Capaldi)
The new Doctor got some great, hilarious lines, like the one about “attack eyebrows” that are so “independently cross” they’re liable to “cede from” the north of his face (a sly topical crack about Scottish independence).
But no one really loves this Doctor. Because you’re not supposed to…not really.
The blog An American View of British Science Fiction shed light on this for me… the new Doctor is more like the First and Sixth Doctors, the hardcore, colder, more alien Time Lords. That, I think, will be a freshener for the series if it doesn’t veer too dreary.
Neil Young’s 1989 “comeback album” Freedom is probably Neil Young’s best work, and I think it should be considered in the rare category, “best Folk rock albums ever.”
Freedom opens with an acoustic performance of “keep on rawkin in the free werld” live in concert (cut from an outdoor set he did at Jones Beach, New York). Though concert recordings can be annoying with the crowd noise and whatnot, and this is no exception, bookending the beginning and end of an album with acoustic and electric versions of the album’s lead single or most representative song is a Neil Young tradition. In addition to that, the following track, 2 – “Crime In The City (Sixty To Zero Part 1)”, has simple guitar lines that mirror “Keep on Rockin’ In The Free World,” so leading off with it established something Young builds on…
One track lends itself to the next, music and lyrics setting up a foundation for the next song. This “album as a cohesive whole” isn’t seen as often today, nowadays an “album” is more a “best of” collection of an artist’s recent songs, selection of stuff recorded over a certain timeframe, or worse, hit single… filler… random crap… potential single #2… filler… more filler, then please become a single #3.
One of the things that takes a record from great album to one of the “best evaaaaar” is its “as a whole” impact. Though Freedom‘s wholeness isn’t as clear/blatant as a concept album’s with a single unifying theme or story, the songs unite loosely around ideas of political, personal, and relationshipal freedom. Not just the songs themselves but their sequence, how one song sets up the next, matters here, and I definitely give more points for the whole album being a canvas.
As mentioned above, “Keep on Rockin’ In The Free World” is an excellent lead-off for the very related second song “Crime In The City (Sixty To Zero Part 1).” Like its predecessor, “Crime in the City” throws out vignettes about street-level reality in 1980s North America or “the free world,” backed by simple but powerful guitar lines. Then, Young adds more: electric guitar compliments the acoustic guitar that’s driving the longer, almost spoken word-vignettes, and following the second vignette about a producer there’s a touch of pedal steel guitar, then separating the third and fourth stories more pedal steel guitar in the fill, then the fill between stories four and five is a sweeping swirl of pedal steel guitar, almost like the Hawaiian-style of steel guitar, then the final lengthy musical break brings in subtle saxophone lines that mirror the guitar lines. All brilliantly done, and the vignettes or dispatches from the front lines of urban decay are touching and real. The third story even has you sympathizing with the corrupt 1980s cop on the beat as he improvises survival amidst the inner city hellscape.
Song #3 – “Don’t Cry” is grunge rock in its purest form, raw guitar feedback-y as hell backing raw emotional lyrics, one magnifying the other. If songs like this don’t make the point that Neil Young is one of the founding fathers of grunge, that grunge’s Mt. Rushmore would have Kurt Cobain, Eddie Vedder, Black Francis/Pixies, and Neil Young, then Neil Young’s 1995 album with Pearl Jam, Mirror Ball, will hit you with that point until it’s blatantly obvious.
“Hangin’ on a limb” is #4, an achingly beautiful song of love and loss and freedom with Linda Ronstadt’s backing vocals subtle and muted but not too muted, just right. The lyrics say a lot in a few subtle lines:
And when the melody
Through the window called
It echoed in the courtyard
And whispered in the halls
He played it through the night
She knew he had to go
There was something about freedom
He thought he didn’t know.
and though their love was hangin’ on a limb,
she taught him how to dance
The part about a melody’s infectious whispers changing lives is striking, and this, along with the lines in 7. “Someday” reminding us where men’s labor goes “Workin’ on that great Alaska pipeline / Many men were lost in the pipe / They went to fuelin’ cars / now smog might turn to stars… Someday” brings it home for me… We need great songwriting like this to express human life and its intricate adaptations to horror and beauty and everything.
I judge everything, with each element, instrument-playing, musical arrangement, lyrics, etc., all having weight. My music reviews don’t hinge solely or predominantly on vocals, which is mostly how music is judged today in the age of The Voice, X-Factor, American Idol, et al.
Neil Young’s high, abrasive countertenor might be off-putting for some, but I give his 1989 comeback album Freedom five out of five rabbits because I “listen small,” catching the small details and beautiful things. This album is like a small, intricately arranged piece of jewelry with each element subtle and measured to never be gaudy or overkill-y.
If you like folk rock and/or country love songs and/or the grunge sound, check out Freedom.
This album, Random Access Memories, won the Grammy for Album of the Year last month, sold umpteen-bajillion copies/went platinum in an era of “people don’t buy albums,” and hit number one in over 20 countries, and after listening to it I understand why. It has the mass appeal of Europop/techno-dance, while being way more clever and creative than most any discothèque-type techno that came before it. You do get the repetitive loops endemic to techno, and that annoyed me sometimes, but often Daft Punk mixes it up so much with a diversity of sounds and actual musical instruments, and modular synthesizers like their obvious forefathers, Kraftwerk, that it works.
Evidently they had all the tracks recorded live with real musicians performing all the instruments, and limited the use of electronic sounds to drum machines, a modular synthesizer, and vintage vocoders. The music is still predominantly electronic, but it’s electronic music with a distinctly “analog” feel, again the Kraftwerk sound, and the album is so creative because it puts the music of the 70s and 80s in a blender, ending up with an interesting gumbo of electric sounds and musical instruments. Track 6 – “Lose Yourself to Dance” reminds me of how “Der Kommissar” (original Falco version) layers electric guitar over synthesizers.
“Get Lucky” (Track 8) became the biggest international hit single in recent memory. It’s so popular that it has prompted innumerable parodies and tributes, some of the weirdest include Postmodern Jukebox‘s ridiculous (but wonderfully violined) Irish tenor version, and the partially a cappella version performed for the Sochi Olympics opening ceremonies by the MVD Police Choir (video here). This wasn’t just the most surreal moment of the Sochi games, it was quite possibly the most surreal moment of any Olympic opening ceremony ever.
The American media, typically oblivious, reported this as the “police choir,” but the MVD is the Interior Ministry. The MVD are bodyguards for the Czar “president,” top ministers and other key officials, alongside their core role of beating protesters with clubs in the streets, silencing the opposition, spying on dissidents, etc.; these aren’t “police” in U.S. or UK terms, and we’ve yet to coin an American neologism for “combining the jobs of the U.S. Secret Service and the East German Stasi,” though “secret police” almost covers it and “Interior Ministry” more than gets the point across in European and Eurasian/Mideast contexts.
This weird moment exemplifies the growth of a global language & pop culture: note that Random Access Memories is in English, every lyric sung, every word spoken, but is being embraced nonetheless as a European discothèque-type thing from Sochi near the North Caucasus to Reykjavik to Helsinki, and this is super clear watching the diverse hodgepodge of Russian guys in the secret police Glee club belting out perfect imitations of an English language song.
This surreal performance also epitomizes how many feel about Russia’s Olympics: “oh great, the oppressive regime’s doing a celebratory butt-dance and singing perfect harmonies about getting lucky on every TV screen in the world!” It isn’t my favorite track.
My favorite track is Track 10 – “Motherboard,” which throws a symphony orchestra into synthesizers, now string section, now woodwinds, live drums, then toward the end throws (what sounds like) ectoplasm or quicksand or viscous Cthulhu dung or something atop that.
There are a lot of oddball collaborations here, with the song done with “Rainbow Connection” songwriter Paul Williams, Track 7 “Touch,” in which Williams (still alive!) sings the lyrics he wrote about…touching… over/between electronic experiments, the weirdest by far. The Daft Punk + Paul Williams collaborations (he also wrote—but doesn’t sing—lyrics for Track 9 “Beyond”) will go down in history as one of the most bizarre musical collaborations ever, right up there with the weird Bing Crosby-David Bowie “Little Drummer Boy” duet.
I understand why this movie tanked at the box office and recouped the independent production only 700k of 40 million invested, it needed a major script overhaul to edit out about 40 minutes of what feels like filler, tighten the story, cut the ultra-forced comedy, and lighten the heavy handed *Jews vs. Palestinians intractable racial struggle over arable land* plotline.
“Trying WAY too hard” is the main problem with Delgo. I believe that in order to recoup the colossal, hemorrhaging costs from this on again, off again, shelved and unshelved 9 year production, the usual suspects (out of touch marketing gurus who always design movies for the lobotomized demographic) overstuffed the script with as many hackneyed Disney formulas as possible. The result (which probably has the guys who came up with the original concepts for Delgo crying in their beer every night) is humor so forced that you want to cringe and shield your face in parts. Delgo’s screechy, unbearable sidekick (Chris Kattan) is this movie’s worst mistake; the fact that not only does he screech *every* forced line at the highest pitches Kattan’s “Mango” character (from SNL) could hit, but enduring him is utterly superfluous to the story, has (I’m certain) made innumerable viewers stop a half-hour in. Mango just can’t be shoehorned into a Disney-style comic relief sidekick–let this serve as a cautionary tale to Hollywood! It feels like the producers compromised their vision, in exchange for adding comic relief “buddies,” they kept their overstated sermon on ethnic strife; including BOTH made the movie much too long.
Eric Idle is great as the villianess’ inept lizard henchman. If this thing had more Idle and NO Mango MAYBE it could have been in reach of 4 stars.
I thought the animation was excellent, very creative, with brilliant use of shadows and highlights. Just because it doesn’t aim to copy Disney and Pixar’s emotive, heavily expressive style DOESN’T mean it sucks; just because the production dysfunctions delayed this 2001 animation’s release until the end of 2008 (so it was animation from CGI technology of another era) doesn’t mean it’s bad.
Delgo has amazing epic battle sequences (though big parts of them seem nearly identical to the arena battle scene with winged Geonosian warriors vs. force-wielding Jedi in Star Wars: Attack of the Clones; one even looks like Yoda).
I gave it 3 stars. One for the great casting apart from Kattan, one for the artwork, and one for the awesome, imaginative original elements you’ve never seen before: a steampunk flying buggy, a dramatic swordfight between two winged generals in mid air! Had Delgo been released in late summer instead of lost amid the shuffle of holiday blockbusters, and had its half hearted, under-resourced promotional campaign depicted it as the swashbuckling romantic epic it aims to be vs. the bad Direct-to-Video cheapquel the posters made it look like, I think Delgo could have easily turned a profit. I’ve seen much worse clear $100 million.
This show is about a Houston task force of U.S. Marshals who chase the most dangerous, most wanted fugitives in Texas. But unlike most crime dramas, where you’re rooting for the cops, with Chase, you’re rooting against the cops just as much as the criminals; the U.S. Marshals are every bit as unsympathetic and unsavory as the fugitives. In the pilot, they’re breaking doors off their hinges and intimidating the mom and fiancée of a suspect like freakin’ thugs.
Maybe that’s an important commentary on what law enforcement has become in the 21st century, but it isn’t fun TV. The lead character, Annie Frost (played by Kelli Giddish from All My Children) lives up to the “frost” name, because she’s a frosty, cold shell of a woman with all the human warmth of an Arctic winter. I turned this show off after less than 15 minutes; it was that unappealing. Avoid this.
This is a remake of CBS’ original Hawaii Five-O series (1968-1980), trying to make it slick and hip for the new era. Problem is, it’s not that appealing because it’s layered in cheese. The episode last week was a good example; it centered on a kidnapping of a business leader who was about to expose security threats to Hawaii and nearby naval forces. Grace Park (formerly an awesome performer on Battlestar Galactica) is an actress of Korean extraction, unconvincingly portraying native Hawaiian rookie cop “Kono” on the Hawaii 5-0 team (no CBS, Korean people do not look like native Hawaiians! How dumb do you think we are?!)
She (Kono) is guarding the kidnapped CEO’s young son, when suddenly she finds a note in a foreign language on the kitchen counter. The CEO’s white, normal-looking girlfriend is behind the kidnapping! It’s what we least expected! The white, model-looking girl sees Kono (Grace Park) uncovering the secret plot, and reveals she’s actually evil and has an incredibly fake Russian accent and she ambush attacks Kono in the kitchen! They start an epic martial arts battle! The girlfriend slams Grace Park’s face into the kitchen counter, and then they karate each other ferociously and crash fakely through fake bamboo and end up poolside. Then the girlfriend, who’s evidently secretly been an enemy commando, knocks Grace Park into the pool and Grace Park spins horizontally, dramatically like a figure skater in a tight twirl or a phony Matrix parody. Soon we end up inside the white terrorist/mobster lair (Dano mentions they’re Serbian cyber-terrorists? LOL) and Grace Park is tied to a chair along with the CEO dude and now his preteen son, too. The dude’s white model girlfriend is carrying some giant carbine or something, half her size, and pointing this weapon at the hostages and pacing menacingly and angrily spitting threats in her fake Slavic accent “you’re going to die! only matter of time.” The ridiculousity line has been crossed. I start openly laughing at the show. Laughable isn’t what CBS was going for at all, but they got it in spades. Grace Park is a great actress, capable of some awesome dramatic performances, and I’m sure she’ll look back on this Hawaii Five-0 part of her career with intense regret. :-/
The TV review blogs HATE this show; they reject it as a blatant, heavy-handed rip off of 24 and Lost and are just savaging it.
The backlash is probably because it was hyped heavily to the discerning nerd audience at Comic-Con in July, and then the pilot seemed like one long trailer for a pilot and the epic “event” the plot revolves around doesn’t actually occur in the pilot, so it failed to meet those high Comic-Con expectations (note to NBC: don’t write cheques your ass can’t cash). The reason people cared about the elaborate mysteries in Lost was they cared about the characters and their backstories and what will happen to them; THE EVƎNT pays little attention to characters but expects us to care about the half-dozen complicated, interconnected unanswered mysteries they’ve presented? FAIL! Listen up NBC, people don’t watch undeveloped characters they don’t care about, especially when you gotta break your brain on mysteries; that is the reason THE EVƎNT got crushed in its time slot, coming in third behind ABC and CBS. Third-place won’t pay THE EVƎNT’s big stunt and special effects budget and fat salaries for Blair Underwood and Laura Innes, so I expect NBC to pull the plug fairly soon.
I was rooting for a show from the internets to do well, a lot of us were. But this show is just terrible. The canned laughter, the laugh track, sounds so incredibly fake, and it’s really unbearable to hear it over and over and over and over. The jokes are very forced, and fall flat. Nothing funny here. Avoid.
Not only is this show awful, the worst premiering show of 2010, it’s the worst premiering show I’ve witnessed in YEARS. Sweet Lord, this show is atrociously, hilariously awful. Plan 9 from Outer Space bad. It’s the first drama ever produced by Conaco Productions, Conan O’Brien’s production company, and it often verges on comedy, albeit unintentional. Most everything in the pilot is preposterous and impossible; it just can’t happen in real life. Jimmy Smits plays Cyrus Garza, “the most conservative justice on the Supreme Court,” and son of fictional Latino civil rights activist Francisco Garza who worked alongside César Chávez. After Francisco and Cyrus’ car crashes, and only Cyrus survives the accident (implausible plot device #1) Cyrus randomly sleeps with a random (beautiful model) ACLU protester and suddenly does a 180 on his bedrock political beliefs and lifelong legal philosophy and he resigns from the Supreme Court to become a liberal activist lawyer, defending the downtrodden and dispossessed–pro-bono–against “the system” that he spent his career bolstering (outrageously absurd plot device #2). He gives a nonsensical speech about how he’s resigning because the role of the Supreme Court is upholding the law and defending “the system,” and he wants to challenge the law for people “the system” doesn’t work for and blah blah blah blah blah, while sitting in open session on the bench with the other justices (really implausible). Then he becomes the defense attorney for Greg Beals, the death row inmate his own Supreme Court opinion gave another chance to (very implausible). Then he is somehow able to use the majority opinion he himself wrote, Beals v. Pennsylvania, as precedent to introduce new evidence to exonerate his client…Beals. The legal impossibilities just stack higher and higher until it becomes a kid’s cartoon of the judicial process.
The women characters are just as “profiles in preposterous,” even bordering on offensive with the female cliches. Cyrus is a chauvinist pig who womanizes blatantly. First, a random liberal protester who angrily protests and denounces him for being neutral (“I’m Switzerland!”) about the Beals case, and, of course he ends up in bed with her.
Second, his legal aide from the Supreme Court, Mereta (pictured above) overhears Cyrus’ bookie telling him he has to have all his hundreds of thousands of dollars in gambling debt paid in full within three months, and because in this show women are dim-witted, she thinks that this means Cyrus has three months to live. Later, she interrupts Cyrus talking to the death row guy’s girlfriend and the rest of the 4-person legal team by the courthouse stairway and, in front of everybody, desperately throws herself at him! She’s all “Now that I know the truth you’ve only got three months left, we can focus on what really matters. I LOVE YOU, CYRUS!” It’s a failed caricature of a woman, a failed attempt to twang romantic heartstrings, and reinforces negative stereotypes of women and negative stereotypes of people with terminal illness.
Third, Cyrus’ private investigator “Lucinda Pearl,” a caricature of a sexy, bisexual leather cyberpunk chick in knee-high boots who’s always doing something extremely brazen sexually like taking her top off to distract guards so she can swipe info, and teasing Cyrus’ chief clerk with single entandres and popping her gum.
Come on man, can you get more blatantly ratings-whoring than this, with such exaggerated, fake, cartoonish, borderline degrading characters? It’s like the pilot’s creators don’t have a wife or daughter or any woman they respect in their lives. What’s it say about American culture today that this one-dimensional, shock-jock type caricaturing is how we view women?
The most realistic character in the show was Mereta’s (apparent) Corgi mix. Whatta good dog!
Just as fake as the characters were the sets. The pilot opens with ridiculous paper mache bricks on the “prison.” Later, Lucinda goes to a crime scene with a skeleton that looks so fake it had to come from Rite Aid halloween clearance. Jeez, NBC! Fund your pilots, otherwise Conan’s company is gonna keep the C team on sets.
Don’t take this show seriously; you’ll end up offended. If you’re going to watch this drek, put on your LOLLERSKATES and get in your ROFLCOPTER because this clunker is layered in (unintentional) hilarity; you will ROFL, indeed.
Collider TV Review: NBC’s OUTLAW (“painstakingly exaggerated” “veritable treasure trove of cliches” “searing pain that runs through my leg (and the rest of my body) when I think of all the resources wasted on a show like this”)
Discerning readers will note that the network responsible for the most shows on my “avoid at all costs” list is NBC. This network seems hopelessly mired in creative, programing and financial FAIL. Time for some serious soul-searching at 30 Rock, dudes, and at Comcast HQ too….
Newsflash: Some New Fall TV Series Actually Worth Your Time!!
Detroit 187 – ABC, 10/9central Tuesday night
This new cop show about a unit of homicide detectives in Detroit is really intelligent and immersive. Unlike most hour-long dramas, it really immerses you in an environment, in characters, with the city (Detroit) as a character in every episode. I felt like I was really there by the river in inner-city Detroit. Yeah, the scripts lean on archetypes (the pretty girl detective, the newbie
the old black veteran on the verge of retirement, and of course the lead, the eccentric, Asperger’s-like detective Louis Fitch with an uncanny, near-mentalist knack for clues and hunches, played by Michael Imperioli) but archetypes can be helpful shortcuts to get the audience involved QUICKLY. The production team just has to make sure the writing stays fresh and engaging and insightful and that their archetypal characters don’t get stale and predictable. Lazy writing could kill the show. The writing being too intelligent could also kill the show. Now, it’s worth your time.
The Whole Truth – ABC, 10/9central Wednesday night
This is a smart legal drama with an awesome cast (the lead stars are Rob Morrow and Maura Tierney) and great, engaging, rapid-fire dialogue back and forth. The premise is that it tries to give you “the whole story” by telling the same ambiguous story and events from multiple viewpoints (the prosecutor–Tierney, and the defense–Morrow) and then ends with the big reveal of what really happened.
I liked the pilot; I was pulled in by the New York scenery and the plot involving a diabetic veteran in a wheelchair gone overboard on the Staten Island ferry (and some heavy-headed disability stereotyping they explored). If the writing stays good and keeps improving, the show has a chance to really build a big audience in the way that The Practice did for ABC, or the writing could go flat and the characters could go stale and the network will go for a midseason replacement; it’ll take pretty good ratings to pay the stars’ salaries, and good ratings aren’t guaranteed by any means. I sort of see this show as “on the bubble,” worth watching now but that could easily change.
Raising Hope – FOX, 9/8central Tuesday night
Like the last series Greg Garcia made, My Name Is Earl, this is a comedy that really breaks the half-hour sitcom mold. No annoying laugh track, and, instead of the cliche house set, it seems to be filmed on location in real life, single-camera style in a rickety wooden home with the broken front screen door and parents (Martha Plimpton–great to see her again!–and Garret Dillahunt) who scrape by with fringe service jobs (as a maid and a pool cleaner). The stay at home mom (like Marge Simpson) is no longer realistic in today’s economic world.
Anyhow, the show’s core premise is about Jimmy, the teenage son, raising the daughter (“Hope”) he got accidentally, and that could get boring if they don’t keep the writing really sharp or stop inserting new crazy characters. But, for now, it’s probably the best, freshest new comedy on TV. Worth your time.
Outsourced – NBC, 9:30/8:30central Thursday night
I like its really different premise; a guy moves to India to manage a catalog call center that just got outsourced to Mumbai. Fresh and engaging for now, and hopefully doesn’t become a stale, browner-skinned parody of The Office. Worth watching.
Boardwalk Empire – HBO, 9/8central Sunday night
I really liked this show, a period piece set in Atlantic City at the dawn of Prohibition, and apparently based on the non-fiction book Boardwalk Empire: The Birth, High Times, and Corruption of Atlantic City. The elaborate sets re-creating the Atlantic City boardwalk and all the ’20s storefronts, the meticulously re-created clothing, they’re just amazing; this alone makes it worth watching. This is such a pivotal time in American history, with Prohibition, gangsters smuggling hooch from Canada, suffragettes/temperance activists, jazz, stock market boom, the roaring twenties economy, rampant individualism and materialism, rampant sex and feminine liberation and the flappers radically challenging social mores, but this era has very seldom been explored on film (with notable exceptions, like the film adaption of The Great Gatsby).
Nucky Thompson, the lead character in “Boardwalk Empire,” is directly based on real life corrupt county treasurer Nucky Johnson. He’s half politician, half gangster, and played by Steve Buscemi.
I’ve always thought this era deserved thorough exploration, for the good of American culture and understanding and etc., and man does this fit the bill; it immerses you in 1920 Atlantic City so well that you can almost smell the ocean on the boardwalk, the lush fabrics on the women and the $3 drinks. The head writer and producer is Terence Winter, one of the main Sopranos writers, and with its similar focus on gangsters, corruption, and seedy Jersey environments, the show is perfect for him, right up his alley. And it’s already equaling The Sopranos in terms of huge ratings cash cow, so, for HBO, it’s likely their “Next Sopranos.” But I think it’s also culturally significant. True, it explores a seedier side of the ’20s (it’s “anything goes” Atlantic City, any time period there is gonna be seedy) with lots of flappers flapping around as tourists, or waitresses in men suits, or showgirls in theaters as burlesque dancers, or mermaids with pasties, or geishas in a nude revue, or even flappers in straight up bordellos, but on the other hand it also subtly (but powerfully) explores Prohibition and gangsterism. When a scene takes us inside a temperance society meeting, we see the older suffragettes who advocate Prohibition, and hear the arguments about DEMON RUM (the leader recites a poem that ends “liquor, thy name’s delirium!”) But later in the pilot episode, we also see their arguments about alcoholism destroying families are well-founded; there are severe cases of deadbeat husbands who take the money needed to feed the children to buy booze, and severely batter wives who resist. Many suffragettes thus saw this social ill as a key women’s rights issue that any civilized country would respond to. But we also see how the mafia immediately perverts Prohibition to make huge profits; they start charging $3 for a glass of liquor, up from 15¢, and keep Atlantic City as drunk as ever. The pilot also (subtly) explores the issue of returning WWI veterans, Doughboys, who saw brutal combat in Europe, killing people repeatedly, and then feel murder is the only profession for them and join the violent alcohol smuggling business. I should blog more about the ’20s!
My Generation – ABC, 8/7central Thursday night (prior to Grey’s Anatomy)
I loved this show; probably my favorite of the newly debuting Fall series. I’m captivated because it really is my generation, the class of 2000, and follows a group of nine friends that graduated in 2000, and traces what they said their goals are and what happened when the dreams collided with reality. They’re 28 now (same as me) and the series is slowly unraveling what happened to them since 2000, uncovering secrets and their effect on the present. It’s shot in documentary style; for the first 30mins, I thought it really was a documentary! I didn’t recognize any of the actors, so that didn’t break the illusion; only when I realized that we can hear the characters’ phone conversations and other things beyond the reach of a real documentary film crew, did I figure it out.
True, the show uses archetypes, and some people don’t like that, but it uses the archetypes really explicitly, with what archetype they are printed on the screen even! There’s Anders “The Rich Kid,” Brenda “The Brain,” Kenneth “The Nerd,” Steven “The Over-Achiever,” etc. And the core of the show is really playing off the labels that they had in high school and exploring how those work once reality hits. Steven “The Over-Achiever” is an example; it turned out that his overachieving was mostly due to abusive pressuring from his dad, who ended up jailed as one of the corporate criminals from Enron. Once his dad’s assets were frozen by the courts, Steven couldn’t pay tuition at Yale anymore, and dropped out. Instead of adapting, Steven pretty much dropped out of society, becoming a loser beach bum surfing in Hawaii, bartending to earn a living and having meaningless, anonymous sex with tourists; he really hit rock bottom.
I’ve really gotten wrapped up in the 9 characters, I’m captivated, on the edge of my seat to find out what happens to them next. Maybe that’s because I long to connect with my real class of 2000 peers. What will happen/what’s happening to my HS Class of 2000/college class of 2004, the heart of the Millennial Generation? Did most of us find love and success? will we save the country like they always said? This show is all about exploring these issues; it’s the premise that really grabs me.
I really hope they don’t cancel it, but all the signs of axing are present….it’s not fast paced or action packed, it’s in-depth and intelligent and character development…could be doomed. UPDATE …and, I was right; ABC has already canceled My Generation. ugh.
You’ll notice that ABC has the lion’s share of “worth watching” new pilots. This has little to do with ABC being awesome (it isn’t really) and a lot to do with all the other networks SUCKING. They really stunk up the place.
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