Watched: JS&MN, Dark Matter, They Look Like People, The Girl in the Book, Twin Peaks & FWwM
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, miniseries, 2015
I'm surprised by how much I liked this, and I expected to like it. The set and costume and makeup are all beautiful; the special effects are sometimes TV-quality but still so evocative. I'd forgotten how successful this narrative is, and/or I'm a better consumer (I was particularly stricken by the womennot an impression I had when I first read it) or I liked this more than the book or I simply need to reread the book; the way in which these characters gain exponential depth as they interact, escaping the limitations of their respective tropes, is particularly fulfilling. What a pleasure to watch.
Dark Matter, seasons 1-2, 2015-2016
Six strangers forced to work together is how found families are born, and this absolutely lives up to its tropes. The cast is made up of heavy-handed archetypes but I love lots of themespecially all the women of the core cast (the android's character growth is especially good.) But mutual distrust also creates a lot of miscommunication-as-plot, which is a trope I detest. I've now mentioned tropes four times, which is indicative: this is pulpy Syfy-channel material, with appropriate pacing, plotting, budget, and the ideal arena to engage tropes with gusto, which this does, and I love it for that.
They Look Like People, film, dir. Perry Blackshear, 2016
I'm not sure how to discuss this one without spoilers, so be ye warned. I found this unexpectedly effective as a horror filmit has a strong grasp of tension and pacing and the evocative unseen. But these are also things that freak me out, personally (face blindness is not-infrequently the experience of "have people been replaced by not-people that I'm supposed to assume look the same?" and "is this face correct? is this what faces look like?"), which biases my reaction. Some have lauded this for its human, empathetic depiction of mental illness; it is that, but I'm still not on board with eliding mental illness and speculative themes, and constantly linking mental illness and violent actions. I find myself of a mixed but ultimately positive opinion, and this certainly does a lot with tone and horror despite its tiny cast and budget.
The Girl in the Book, film, dir. Marya Cohn, 2015
A thorny, private, messy personal trauma given a cathartic, neat resolutionso it hits all the right notes and I understand the intent, but it still feels limited. I like the narrative structure, though, exploring the sequences of events in one timeline, their longterm impact in the other. But I can't help negatively comparing this to Blue Car, which was thematically similar but much more messy and bittersweet in resolution: equally important representation, but refusing to be so neat.
Twin Peaks, season 1-2, 1990-1991
Fire Walk with Me, film, dir. David Lynch, 1992
(Spoilers be ye warned, again.) I made multiple false starts on this show before seeing it to conclusion, which I feel is in some way indicative of my overall experience. There's so much to talk about! I'm underwhelmed by some of the iconic elements, the soap opera plotting, laborious pacing, and "quirky" townsfolkbut I love the effect of the ominous and surreal set against that mundanity. The plotting goes off the rails after Laura's arc, and the new romances are a horrible choicebut I love the increasingly prominent role of the Black Lodge. (What imagery!) But I take strong issue with the way that Lynch uses disability to indicate strangeness, in the townsfolk and surreal dreams and the Lodge. I loved Fire Walk with Me, because as much as I admire a successful narrative in absentia it's empowering to make Laura subject (rather than object) of the narrative and Sheryl Lee's portrayal is intimate and convincing. Twin Peaks and I had a rocky start, and I couldn't imagine rewatching it for fun, but I came away with strong opinions and a lot of love for the bits I loved (speech in the Lodge & the entrance to the Lodge; the characterization of Dale Cooper and Audrey Horne in the first arc, and the relationship between them) and love, also, for for its ... intent and iconic cultural effect, I suppose, more than the actual product.
On Tumblr: Dale Cooper vs. Professor Layton; David Lynch uncritically presenting the Other aas weird. Crossposted below, for posterity.
I've been watching a lot of Twin Peaks lately, and it occurred to me how much Special Agent Dale Cooper reminds me of Professor Hershel Layton, especially through the end of the Laura Palmer arc.
no no wait come back I swear this makes sense
Cooper, like Layton, is this bundle of sincere competency, manufactured pleasant affect, and inaccessibility. For both of them, that affect has the appearance of accessibilityit's engaging and lovable and, in different ways, larger than life, but they draw lines between their projected personality and access to their personal lives and emotions. Their physicality represents both halves of that dynamic, especially Layton's dumb hat and Cooper's dumb hair, an intentional, groomed, charming character-quirk affect that both narratives like to pick on, making fun of Layton's hat, mussing Coop's hair when he sleeps, to remind of us of the ways in which they're affectations, to show us they could be compromised or removed. Both narratives like to push the trope to 11, contrasting the ways in which the character's charming gentlemanly manners and engaging conversation (Layton) / enthusiasm, sincerity, and spiritual accessibility (Cooper) contrast with their (in both cases) inability to access authentic, personal emotions, making them flustered and/or full of sudden sads, see in particular: the end of Unwound Future & lots of Miracle Mask; how Coop reacts to Audrey seeing him not fully clothed and also injured, and to Denise witnessing Audrey's kiss.
I specify "through the end of the Laura Palmer arc" in part because the dynamic with Audrey emphasizes all the above but also because the dynamic with Annie just … forgets this whole thing. I think both Annie and Coop's surprising emotional accessibility is charming, despite surrounding narrative structure elements that I like less, but gone is the line drawn between projected affect and emotional accessibility; I guess I can buy it because of how Cooper has been changed by Twin Peaks, but it's still a great trope lost.
You know that thing that Stephen King does, where he uncritically presents the Other as horrific? I feel like that's what David Lynch does with weird. He uses non-normative bodies and behaviors to indicate both "quirky" townspeople and surreal dreamscapes/supernatural events, and it's gross.
#no one loves body horror as much as I love body horror & so I understand the impulse and anxiety #and I even feel that Lynch uses it well sometimes! (Blue Velvet left a mark on me) just ... not in Twin Peaks #another piece of criticism I was reminded of: Witch Please's commentary on the casting of non-normative bodies ONLY to indicate ~magic~ #little people don't exist in Harry's world BUT goblins do; the only place to cast a little person is in the role of a goblin or half-goblin #an act both exclusionary and othering & therefore not representation at all even if it gets a little person on screen #(like do I want people with disabilities in my media? hell yes I do. does Twin Peaks sometimes treat them with respect? yeah! #but it's not really representation when non-normativity exists to serve a narrative function rather than simply existing in its own right)
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I'm surprised by how much I liked this, and I expected to like it. The set and costume and makeup are all beautiful; the special effects are sometimes TV-quality but still so evocative. I'd forgotten how successful this narrative is, and/or I'm a better consumer (I was particularly stricken by the womennot an impression I had when I first read it) or I liked this more than the book or I simply need to reread the book; the way in which these characters gain exponential depth as they interact, escaping the limitations of their respective tropes, is particularly fulfilling. What a pleasure to watch.
Dark Matter, seasons 1-2, 2015-2016
Six strangers forced to work together is how found families are born, and this absolutely lives up to its tropes. The cast is made up of heavy-handed archetypes but I love lots of themespecially all the women of the core cast (the android's character growth is especially good.) But mutual distrust also creates a lot of miscommunication-as-plot, which is a trope I detest. I've now mentioned tropes four times, which is indicative: this is pulpy Syfy-channel material, with appropriate pacing, plotting, budget, and the ideal arena to engage tropes with gusto, which this does, and I love it for that.
They Look Like People, film, dir. Perry Blackshear, 2016
I'm not sure how to discuss this one without spoilers, so be ye warned. I found this unexpectedly effective as a horror filmit has a strong grasp of tension and pacing and the evocative unseen. But these are also things that freak me out, personally (face blindness is not-infrequently the experience of "have people been replaced by not-people that I'm supposed to assume look the same?" and "is this face correct? is this what faces look like?"), which biases my reaction. Some have lauded this for its human, empathetic depiction of mental illness; it is that, but I'm still not on board with eliding mental illness and speculative themes, and constantly linking mental illness and violent actions. I find myself of a mixed but ultimately positive opinion, and this certainly does a lot with tone and horror despite its tiny cast and budget.
The Girl in the Book, film, dir. Marya Cohn, 2015
A thorny, private, messy personal trauma given a cathartic, neat resolutionso it hits all the right notes and I understand the intent, but it still feels limited. I like the narrative structure, though, exploring the sequences of events in one timeline, their longterm impact in the other. But I can't help negatively comparing this to Blue Car, which was thematically similar but much more messy and bittersweet in resolution: equally important representation, but refusing to be so neat.
Twin Peaks, season 1-2, 1990-1991
Fire Walk with Me, film, dir. David Lynch, 1992
(Spoilers be ye warned, again.) I made multiple false starts on this show before seeing it to conclusion, which I feel is in some way indicative of my overall experience. There's so much to talk about! I'm underwhelmed by some of the iconic elements, the soap opera plotting, laborious pacing, and "quirky" townsfolkbut I love the effect of the ominous and surreal set against that mundanity. The plotting goes off the rails after Laura's arc, and the new romances are a horrible choicebut I love the increasingly prominent role of the Black Lodge. (What imagery!) But I take strong issue with the way that Lynch uses disability to indicate strangeness, in the townsfolk and surreal dreams and the Lodge. I loved Fire Walk with Me, because as much as I admire a successful narrative in absentia it's empowering to make Laura subject (rather than object) of the narrative and Sheryl Lee's portrayal is intimate and convincing. Twin Peaks and I had a rocky start, and I couldn't imagine rewatching it for fun, but I came away with strong opinions and a lot of love for the bits I loved (speech in the Lodge & the entrance to the Lodge; the characterization of Dale Cooper and Audrey Horne in the first arc, and the relationship between them) and love, also, for for its ... intent and iconic cultural effect, I suppose, more than the actual product.
On Tumblr: Dale Cooper vs. Professor Layton; David Lynch uncritically presenting the Other aas weird. Crossposted below, for posterity.
I've been watching a lot of Twin Peaks lately, and it occurred to me how much Special Agent Dale Cooper reminds me of Professor Hershel Layton, especially through the end of the Laura Palmer arc.
no no wait come back I swear this makes sense
Cooper, like Layton, is this bundle of sincere competency, manufactured pleasant affect, and inaccessibility. For both of them, that affect has the appearance of accessibilityit's engaging and lovable and, in different ways, larger than life, but they draw lines between their projected personality and access to their personal lives and emotions. Their physicality represents both halves of that dynamic, especially Layton's dumb hat and Cooper's dumb hair, an intentional, groomed, charming character-quirk affect that both narratives like to pick on, making fun of Layton's hat, mussing Coop's hair when he sleeps, to remind of us of the ways in which they're affectations, to show us they could be compromised or removed. Both narratives like to push the trope to 11, contrasting the ways in which the character's charming gentlemanly manners and engaging conversation (Layton) / enthusiasm, sincerity, and spiritual accessibility (Cooper) contrast with their (in both cases) inability to access authentic, personal emotions, making them flustered and/or full of sudden sads, see in particular: the end of Unwound Future & lots of Miracle Mask; how Coop reacts to Audrey seeing him not fully clothed and also injured, and to Denise witnessing Audrey's kiss.
I specify "through the end of the Laura Palmer arc" in part because the dynamic with Audrey emphasizes all the above but also because the dynamic with Annie just … forgets this whole thing. I think both Annie and Coop's surprising emotional accessibility is charming, despite surrounding narrative structure elements that I like less, but gone is the line drawn between projected affect and emotional accessibility; I guess I can buy it because of how Cooper has been changed by Twin Peaks, but it's still a great trope lost.
You know that thing that Stephen King does, where he uncritically presents the Other as horrific? I feel like that's what David Lynch does with weird. He uses non-normative bodies and behaviors to indicate both "quirky" townspeople and surreal dreamscapes/supernatural events, and it's gross.
#no one loves body horror as much as I love body horror & so I understand the impulse and anxiety #and I even feel that Lynch uses it well sometimes! (Blue Velvet left a mark on me) just ... not in Twin Peaks #another piece of criticism I was reminded of: Witch Please's commentary on the casting of non-normative bodies ONLY to indicate ~magic~ #little people don't exist in Harry's world BUT goblins do; the only place to cast a little person is in the role of a goblin or half-goblin #an act both exclusionary and othering & therefore not representation at all even if it gets a little person on screen #(like do I want people with disabilities in my media? hell yes I do. does Twin Peaks sometimes treat them with respect? yeah! #but it's not really representation when non-normativity exists to serve a narrative function rather than simply existing in its own right)
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