There's this glowing box called a TV! Who knew?
The quote of the day is: "When the politicians complain that TV turns the proceedings into a circus, it should be made clear that the circus was already there, and that TV has merely demonstrated that not all the performers are well trained." - Edward R. Murrow
So, media! I am finally catching up on some of the movies and TV I missed while buried in my semester. And I tell you what, a number of things have surprised me with their failure to suck. Defiance and In the Flesh have been unexpectedly thoughtful and nuanced productions where I was prepared for shallow glitz. Orphan Black turned out to boast a leading actress who can successfully make me totally forget that most of the characters are played by her, which is a pretty strong sign of talent. Iron Man 3 is miles ahead of the second installment. Elementary is clever and sweet and not Sherlock at all in ways that work.
Even more surprising, I've failed to entirely stop watching Supernatural as I'd meant to (I am an obsessive completionist, even when I don't want to be), and it's actually improved over the utterly insulting level of craptasticness it was wallowing in before. And then there was this bit, in the season finale, and it was unexpectedly one of the hottest things I have ever seen. To see what kicked my pheromones in the face, check this clip out starting at 3:15 and running to the end. And I swear, I am not even normally into collaring. But just, Crowley with the pretty crying, all collared and cuffed, and then the willing neck baring with the parted lips and half-lidded eyes...yeah. Is it just me?
As for things which remain predictably strong, Person of Interest, The Mentalist, The Walking Dead, Grimm, and Game of Thrones color my world with awesome. I am gleefully looking forward to the GoT finale today, in fact; if it ends for the season where I'm hoping it does, I'll feel better about last week's ep, which was every bit as difficult as I imagined it would be.
Hemlock Grove, on the other hand, is a train wreck of fetishized strangeness. And this is coming from me, so you know that shit's seriously fucked up. Also, it seems to revel in making as little sense as possible - and the level of possible there stretches further than I thought it could. Watching it feels like the media equivalent of trying to assemble IKEA furniture directly after suffering a serious head wound.
In the mixed feelings category, there is ST: Into Darkness. Overall, I actually liked it. BUT.
I will always feel the sense of usurpation with the reboot; I think that's inevitable. This is not my Trek, and they very literally blew my Trek up. The idea that these events precluded the canon I grew up with and prevented the characters I loved from becoming the versions I knew makes me sad. On the other hand, if I take this as a separate thing, an alternate universe that diverged and went off on its own way, I can come to terms with it.
Also, I still have the same quibble with Uhura and Spock as I did in the first movie: I don't buy either of them bringing their relationship to work or indulging in PDAs. Between being unprofessional and unVulcan, just no.
And though I feel the virtues of Pine!Kirk in a lot of ways, I have a problem with Quinto!Spock. There's just too much easy emotion. I feel that it doesn't have the same impact when he cries or flinches or smiles, because he does those things a lot. Nimoy!Spock really made you work for it; a single exclaimed "Jim!" from him meant everything, because it didn't come early or easily. It's sort of the way you don't notice when Kevin Smith says "fuck" because he says it every other word until it just loses its force. This is half of why the death scene didn't move me the way the original did.
The other half is that it came too early. Wrath of Khan came after 4 seasons and a movie. Relationships were established and invested by that time. Spock and Kirk, especially, were epic by that time. When Spock falls, it's Gilgamesh and Enkidu, it's Achilles and Patroklas, it's larger than life archetypal grief with a wealth of narrative supporting the deep connection that's being severed. Reboot Kirk and Spock, well, not so much. These guys mention that they're friends, but we haven't really gotten to see it. They haven't even known each other very long. This storyline, this scene? Should have happened later, when we had the background to make it matter the way it should. I think it's lazy storytelling to rely on our investment in original canon to give Kirk and Spock's friendship emotional power.
But still. Overall, I liked it more than I expected, and I hope that one day there's enough of these made that I can invest in the relationships the way I'd like to.
And your three shiny links of the day are:
1) The arbitrary line we draw between humans and other animals is rarely so obviously destabilized as it is when we consider what animals can teach humans about healing.
2) As a kid, did you, like me, read Andrew Lang's series of color-themed fairytale books? Then you may be lucky enough to remember the remarkable tale of The Girl Who Pretended to be a Boy, a wonderfully gender-queer fairytale well ahead of its time. It is every shade of awesome.
3) And for a good, existentialist laugh, check out Henri the ennui-ridden cat.
So, media! I am finally catching up on some of the movies and TV I missed while buried in my semester. And I tell you what, a number of things have surprised me with their failure to suck. Defiance and In the Flesh have been unexpectedly thoughtful and nuanced productions where I was prepared for shallow glitz. Orphan Black turned out to boast a leading actress who can successfully make me totally forget that most of the characters are played by her, which is a pretty strong sign of talent. Iron Man 3 is miles ahead of the second installment. Elementary is clever and sweet and not Sherlock at all in ways that work.
Even more surprising, I've failed to entirely stop watching Supernatural as I'd meant to (I am an obsessive completionist, even when I don't want to be), and it's actually improved over the utterly insulting level of craptasticness it was wallowing in before. And then there was this bit, in the season finale, and it was unexpectedly one of the hottest things I have ever seen. To see what kicked my pheromones in the face, check this clip out starting at 3:15 and running to the end. And I swear, I am not even normally into collaring. But just, Crowley with the pretty crying, all collared and cuffed, and then the willing neck baring with the parted lips and half-lidded eyes...yeah. Is it just me?
As for things which remain predictably strong, Person of Interest, The Mentalist, The Walking Dead, Grimm, and Game of Thrones color my world with awesome. I am gleefully looking forward to the GoT finale today, in fact; if it ends for the season where I'm hoping it does, I'll feel better about last week's ep, which was every bit as difficult as I imagined it would be.
Hemlock Grove, on the other hand, is a train wreck of fetishized strangeness. And this is coming from me, so you know that shit's seriously fucked up. Also, it seems to revel in making as little sense as possible - and the level of possible there stretches further than I thought it could. Watching it feels like the media equivalent of trying to assemble IKEA furniture directly after suffering a serious head wound.
In the mixed feelings category, there is ST: Into Darkness. Overall, I actually liked it. BUT.
I will always feel the sense of usurpation with the reboot; I think that's inevitable. This is not my Trek, and they very literally blew my Trek up. The idea that these events precluded the canon I grew up with and prevented the characters I loved from becoming the versions I knew makes me sad. On the other hand, if I take this as a separate thing, an alternate universe that diverged and went off on its own way, I can come to terms with it.
Also, I still have the same quibble with Uhura and Spock as I did in the first movie: I don't buy either of them bringing their relationship to work or indulging in PDAs. Between being unprofessional and unVulcan, just no.
And though I feel the virtues of Pine!Kirk in a lot of ways, I have a problem with Quinto!Spock. There's just too much easy emotion. I feel that it doesn't have the same impact when he cries or flinches or smiles, because he does those things a lot. Nimoy!Spock really made you work for it; a single exclaimed "Jim!" from him meant everything, because it didn't come early or easily. It's sort of the way you don't notice when Kevin Smith says "fuck" because he says it every other word until it just loses its force. This is half of why the death scene didn't move me the way the original did.
The other half is that it came too early. Wrath of Khan came after 4 seasons and a movie. Relationships were established and invested by that time. Spock and Kirk, especially, were epic by that time. When Spock falls, it's Gilgamesh and Enkidu, it's Achilles and Patroklas, it's larger than life archetypal grief with a wealth of narrative supporting the deep connection that's being severed. Reboot Kirk and Spock, well, not so much. These guys mention that they're friends, but we haven't really gotten to see it. They haven't even known each other very long. This storyline, this scene? Should have happened later, when we had the background to make it matter the way it should. I think it's lazy storytelling to rely on our investment in original canon to give Kirk and Spock's friendship emotional power.
But still. Overall, I liked it more than I expected, and I hope that one day there's enough of these made that I can invest in the relationships the way I'd like to.
And your three shiny links of the day are:
1) The arbitrary line we draw between humans and other animals is rarely so obviously destabilized as it is when we consider what animals can teach humans about healing.
2) As a kid, did you, like me, read Andrew Lang's series of color-themed fairytale books? Then you may be lucky enough to remember the remarkable tale of The Girl Who Pretended to be a Boy, a wonderfully gender-queer fairytale well ahead of its time. It is every shade of awesome.
3) And for a good, existentialist laugh, check out Henri the ennui-ridden cat.