Long story short: They made it so obvious it was Bryce from the very beginning that this episode had zero tension. Yes, even when it looked like Dr. Cassidy was going to die, we were not at all worried.
I hate it when I'm watching a show that features supposedly brilliant people and they all miss the obvious. The nanotech (flavor of the month, these things) clearly only goes for the one target. I mean, they're airborne but don't accidentally kill anyone else who is around, right? So why would they have killed the assistant unless they were meant to? Bryce was an idiot to have programmed them that way. End of story.
And if that hadn't been a giveaway, all the lingering camera shots on Bryce should have been.
Plus lines of dialogue from him like, "Until he got scared."
This was just a hamfisted episode all around, really, which is a shame because if there had been any actual question of who had done it, or if they'd been racing against the clock to find and save other scientists, the story might have been a good one.
I also just want to say that the cutesy phone calls that have become the staple of most episodes' opens and/or closes are getting redundant and dull. The dialogue is not clever or witty. It's more like that moment when Mr. Rogers used to switch his shoes and jacket; it's how we know the show is going to begin or end.
Thing is, I have really enjoyed Intelligence on the whole. I like Gabriel, and I think he and Riley have good chemistry. But there wasn't much for them to do this time. Feels to me like the writers are having trouble coming up with plots. And they're desperate to make sure other characters (Lillian, Cassidy) get fair time, which is fine, but they shouldn't do it at the expense of the two main protagonists. It's like they want this to be ensemble, but this isn't Bones with everyone working together in one place. Gabriel and Riley need to be out there, getting stuff done. Otherwise we're bored.
Maybe all the characters should go out for a pitcher of margaritas some night. I mean, if the writers are so set on it being an ensemble, you need to put them together in a way that shows camaraderie. Gabriel should have people over for barbecue or something. That's all I'm saying.
I will say having Almost Human and Intelligence air on the same night is nice. They're a good fit and set a nice tone for the evening.
2.17.2014
Television: Almost Human, "Disrupt"
Rudy is up to something fishy in Dorian's head while Dorian is in stasis. Hmm. Meanwhile, a man named Michael and his wife Linda are receiving death threats on the one-year anniversary of the death of a boy named Aaron who was killed when he trespassed on their property and the house security system killed him. The house is run by a holographic projection named Sam. He malfunctions—or is hacked—and drowns Linda by sealing her under the swimming pool's protective cover. Michael tries to save her but is shot by the security system.
So this episode is all about betrayals of trust of one kind or another.
Sam tells Dorian that he was aware of being remotely programmed the night before, being switched from auto to manual. He doesn't know who did it and security footage has been erased. And there are all those death threats to consider.
WhileMinka Kelly Valerie talks to Aaron's mom and confirms her alibi (she was at a church vigil held in Aaron's memory), the woman who runs the security company tells Kennex and Dorian that a group called Disrupt was the one that made the most threats.
Dorian begins having childhood memories—these are the "files" that Rudy had been accessing while Dorian was unconscious. Of course the question is: How can an android have childhood memories?
A hacker named Crispin X takes responsibility for the hack that killed Michael and Linda. Kennex and Valerie get Rudy to get invited to a big post-hack party so they can go in using Rudy's handle ("Aphid" . . . and nice to hear Karl Urban use a more natural accent). They manage to arrest Crispin (real name Nico) with little trouble. But Crispin insists Disrupt only hired him to take the grid offline in Aaron's memory, and that Disrupt is not a murderous organization.
Turns out Dorian and Rudy used to have fun conversations together back when Dorian was decommissioned. That seems like a pointless bit of trivia but I'm sure it's meant to add depth.
A lawyer for the security company is found dead. Kennex figures out (from a photograph) the murders are being done by someone who knew Aaron personally. They ask Crispin for help and figure out a girl named Emily is the likely culprit.
Why not just ask Rudy to check Aaron's iPad thingy? Instead of offering Crispin immunity for his help? And how do they know Crispin isn't just planting all this info?
Anyway, they figure Emily's next target is the woman who runs the security company. And that Emily is tapped into the main server, meaning she must be on site at the company's building. So this becomes Crispin versus Emily in a hack fight while Kennex and Dorian head down to find and grab Emily.
People hide under desks a lot in this show. Just sayin'.
And now the fire suppression system has been activated, meaning the oxygen will be sucked out of the building in five minutes. (Doesn't this mean Emily would die too if she's in the building?)
I think the oxygen countdown thing was supposed to be tense, but were we ever really worried? Um, no.
Emily tells Dorian the reason Aaron was in Michael's and Linda's yard the night the house killed him was because he was cutting through to go see her. Aaron didn't have many friends in life, but he had a ton of online friends, people he helped.
Rudy figures out that someone implanted those memories into Dorian. He cleanses Dorian of the files and closes the "access point" so whoever planted the memories won't be able to get in that way again. But the lingering question is: Why would anyone do such a thing? And though Kennex wants to tell Dorian, Rudy advises against it, saying people will think Dorian is malfunctioning, that the DRN is going crazy. Is this a valid concern? Or is Rudy hiding something?
An overall okay episode that is attempting to insert more conspiracy story arc . . . And again, I find it decidedly uninteresting. Someone gave Dorian memories? Uh . . . okay. Whatever. Hardly compelling stuff. If they don't step this up a bit, and quickly . . . But then again, it seems ever more unlikely Almost Human is going to see a second season anyway. So I hope they at least find a way to wrap all this up satisfactorily, just in case.
So this episode is all about betrayals of trust of one kind or another.
Sam tells Dorian that he was aware of being remotely programmed the night before, being switched from auto to manual. He doesn't know who did it and security footage has been erased. And there are all those death threats to consider.
While
Dorian begins having childhood memories—these are the "files" that Rudy had been accessing while Dorian was unconscious. Of course the question is: How can an android have childhood memories?
A hacker named Crispin X takes responsibility for the hack that killed Michael and Linda. Kennex and Valerie get Rudy to get invited to a big post-hack party so they can go in using Rudy's handle ("Aphid" . . . and nice to hear Karl Urban use a more natural accent). They manage to arrest Crispin (real name Nico) with little trouble. But Crispin insists Disrupt only hired him to take the grid offline in Aaron's memory, and that Disrupt is not a murderous organization.
Turns out Dorian and Rudy used to have fun conversations together back when Dorian was decommissioned. That seems like a pointless bit of trivia but I'm sure it's meant to add depth.
A lawyer for the security company is found dead. Kennex figures out (from a photograph) the murders are being done by someone who knew Aaron personally. They ask Crispin for help and figure out a girl named Emily is the likely culprit.
Why not just ask Rudy to check Aaron's iPad thingy? Instead of offering Crispin immunity for his help? And how do they know Crispin isn't just planting all this info?
Anyway, they figure Emily's next target is the woman who runs the security company. And that Emily is tapped into the main server, meaning she must be on site at the company's building. So this becomes Crispin versus Emily in a hack fight while Kennex and Dorian head down to find and grab Emily.
People hide under desks a lot in this show. Just sayin'.
And now the fire suppression system has been activated, meaning the oxygen will be sucked out of the building in five minutes. (Doesn't this mean Emily would die too if she's in the building?)
I think the oxygen countdown thing was supposed to be tense, but were we ever really worried? Um, no.
Emily tells Dorian the reason Aaron was in Michael's and Linda's yard the night the house killed him was because he was cutting through to go see her. Aaron didn't have many friends in life, but he had a ton of online friends, people he helped.
Rudy figures out that someone implanted those memories into Dorian. He cleanses Dorian of the files and closes the "access point" so whoever planted the memories won't be able to get in that way again. But the lingering question is: Why would anyone do such a thing? And though Kennex wants to tell Dorian, Rudy advises against it, saying people will think Dorian is malfunctioning, that the DRN is going crazy. Is this a valid concern? Or is Rudy hiding something?
An overall okay episode that is attempting to insert more conspiracy story arc . . . And again, I find it decidedly uninteresting. Someone gave Dorian memories? Uh . . . okay. Whatever. Hardly compelling stuff. If they don't step this up a bit, and quickly . . . But then again, it seems ever more unlikely Almost Human is going to see a second season anyway. So I hope they at least find a way to wrap all this up satisfactorily, just in case.
Television: True Detective, "The Secret Fate of All Life"
So. Is Cohle guilty or isn't he?
This is the question that's underlay the entire season only now being openly asked.
Did Cohle—does he—have anything to do with these ritual murders.
They've done a great job of stacking things against him. And Cohle's bizarre personality, his weird ways of thinking and talking, makes him seem like a prime candidate. But I'm going to go out on a limb and say I don't believe—and of course I could be wrong—he's the killer. I think Cohle has been investigating outside the boundaries of the law because he knows people inside the system are involved in the murders. And/or in covering up the truth. Cohle is a Mulder.
That's just my take.
And yet, it wouldn't surprise me if we found out in the final episode (there are only what? three more?) that Cohle was in it all along, or somehow became a disciple, or whatever. It's a testament to the fine writing and acting that I can see it going either way.
So. Is Cohle a patsy? Are the setting him up as a scapegoat because he's too close to the truth? Or is he really a killer?
The final scene in last night's episode was interesting (though I felt they lingered more than necessary): Cohle standing in the ruined religious school, examining one of the devil traps that have been left there. A shaft of light falls in from above and one is left to wonder: Is this just Cohle doing his job, or is this a man having an epiphany? Is he about to dedicate himself to something? And is that thing a dark belief in a Yellow King or a mission to find out the truth? The viewer doesn't know, can't tell.
It will be interesting to see how the remainder plays out.
This is the question that's underlay the entire season only now being openly asked.
Did Cohle—does he—have anything to do with these ritual murders.
They've done a great job of stacking things against him. And Cohle's bizarre personality, his weird ways of thinking and talking, makes him seem like a prime candidate. But I'm going to go out on a limb and say I don't believe—and of course I could be wrong—he's the killer. I think Cohle has been investigating outside the boundaries of the law because he knows people inside the system are involved in the murders. And/or in covering up the truth. Cohle is a Mulder.
That's just my take.
And yet, it wouldn't surprise me if we found out in the final episode (there are only what? three more?) that Cohle was in it all along, or somehow became a disciple, or whatever. It's a testament to the fine writing and acting that I can see it going either way.
So. Is Cohle a patsy? Are the setting him up as a scapegoat because he's too close to the truth? Or is he really a killer?
The final scene in last night's episode was interesting (though I felt they lingered more than necessary): Cohle standing in the ruined religious school, examining one of the devil traps that have been left there. A shaft of light falls in from above and one is left to wonder: Is this just Cohle doing his job, or is this a man having an epiphany? Is he about to dedicate himself to something? And is that thing a dark belief in a Yellow King or a mission to find out the truth? The viewer doesn't know, can't tell.
It will be interesting to see how the remainder plays out.
2.13.2014
Writing: San Francisco Writers Conference
If you're wondering where I've disappeared to, no, I've not been sucked into the Olympics spectacle (though I do enjoy watching the figure skaters and ice dancers). I'll be away this weekend at SFWC. And I'll be posting all I learn over on PepperWords. So check there if you want the scoop.
Posts will be made as I have time—I'll basically be typing up my notes from the various sessions I attend, plus anything interesting that may happen. But you should have the whole story come Monday.
And in the meantime, you can always revisit coverage from last year's SFWC here.
Posts will be made as I have time—I'll basically be typing up my notes from the various sessions I attend, plus anything interesting that may happen. But you should have the whole story come Monday.
And in the meantime, you can always revisit coverage from last year's SFWC here.
2.12.2014
2.11.2014
And Then . . .
This. As a reminder.
Because I do have a script due at the end of the month. And I'll be at a writers conference* this weekend and need to pull together a synopsis on the off chance someone might actually be interested. In, you know, my writing. Sigh.
*I feel weird not using an apostrophe after "writers" but that's how the official site reads: San Francisco Writers Conference. So . . . The conference doesn't belong to the writers? Are the writers meant to be from San Francisco? (They actually come from all over the world; it's a massive conference.) I thought the "San Francisco" only described the location, but if it describes the writers . . . And yes, I might only be procrastinating. But check up on PepperWords after this weekend as that is where I'll be posting everything I learn in the writing sessions.
Because I do have a script due at the end of the month. And I'll be at a writers conference* this weekend and need to pull together a synopsis on the off chance someone might actually be interested. In, you know, my writing. Sigh.
*I feel weird not using an apostrophe after "writers" but that's how the official site reads: San Francisco Writers Conference. So . . . The conference doesn't belong to the writers? Are the writers meant to be from San Francisco? (They actually come from all over the world; it's a massive conference.) I thought the "San Francisco" only described the location, but if it describes the writers . . . And yes, I might only be procrastinating. But check up on PepperWords after this weekend as that is where I'll be posting everything I learn in the writing sessions.
Television: Almost Human, "Perception"
So this week they (a) went back to some of the things that happened in the pilot episode, and (b) gave Minka Kelly slightly more to do.
A Plot: super smart kids at a school geared toward "Chromes" are dying from drug overdoses.
B Plot: Kennex is taking drugs, too, to help him remember stuff about the night of the ambush (you know, when he lost his leg and it turns out his girlfriend was a badguy girl).
Chromes are, as it turns out, genetically designed/enhanced human beings. I wasn't entirely clear on the level of design, if there is one. Is it done in utero? ::shrug:: In any case, it turns out Valerie (that's Minka Kelly, though really, if we're honest, we all just call her "Minka Kelly") is one of these. And that it's rare they go into law enforcement, at least at the base police detective level—one assumes if they're so smart or whatever they are more likely to work in better paying occupations, and that if they're set on law enforcement they'll aim for the higher [federal] levels.
Bottom line, though, is that this was an interesting thing to introduce. Not for Valerie particularly (though maybe it will become so later), but the idea that these individuals exist, their place in the strata of society . . . Kind of Gattica, really.
The whole teens-dying-from-designer-drugs . . . Well, at least they didn't try to turn it into "a very special episode of Almost Human." And I sympathized with the girl who committed suicide. I often feel the way she seemingly did.
As for the B plot, well . . . While it had nice parallels to the A plot, on the whole I do not find this hanging conspiracy very compelling. Not sure if it's because the episodes have been aired out of order, but the inconsistency in following this whole "Syndicate" story line makes it feel as if it is not actually all that important in the larger scheme. In short, I don't know as a viewer how much weight to give it, and they haven't made it interesting enough on its own for me to care just for the sake of caring.
Still, on the spectrum of Almost Human episodes, I found this one better than many, mostly for the whole Chromes aspect. Though it seems unlikely the show will see a second season (production costs way outstrip the ratings they're receiving), it would be interesting to see where they could take such an angle. Or maybe that should be its own show entirely.
A Plot: super smart kids at a school geared toward "Chromes" are dying from drug overdoses.
B Plot: Kennex is taking drugs, too, to help him remember stuff about the night of the ambush (you know, when he lost his leg and it turns out his girlfriend was a bad
Chromes are, as it turns out, genetically designed/enhanced human beings. I wasn't entirely clear on the level of design, if there is one. Is it done in utero? ::shrug:: In any case, it turns out Valerie (that's Minka Kelly, though really, if we're honest, we all just call her "Minka Kelly") is one of these. And that it's rare they go into law enforcement, at least at the base police detective level—one assumes if they're so smart or whatever they are more likely to work in better paying occupations, and that if they're set on law enforcement they'll aim for the higher [federal] levels.
Bottom line, though, is that this was an interesting thing to introduce. Not for Valerie particularly (though maybe it will become so later), but the idea that these individuals exist, their place in the strata of society . . . Kind of Gattica, really.
The whole teens-dying-from-designer-drugs . . . Well, at least they didn't try to turn it into "a very special episode of Almost Human." And I sympathized with the girl who committed suicide. I often feel the way she seemingly did.
As for the B plot, well . . . While it had nice parallels to the A plot, on the whole I do not find this hanging conspiracy very compelling. Not sure if it's because the episodes have been aired out of order, but the inconsistency in following this whole "Syndicate" story line makes it feel as if it is not actually all that important in the larger scheme. In short, I don't know as a viewer how much weight to give it, and they haven't made it interesting enough on its own for me to care just for the sake of caring.
Still, on the spectrum of Almost Human episodes, I found this one better than many, mostly for the whole Chromes aspect. Though it seems unlikely the show will see a second season (production costs way outstrip the ratings they're receiving), it would be interesting to see where they could take such an angle. Or maybe that should be its own show entirely.
2.10.2014
Television: Intelligence, "Patient Zero"
At the brink of lethal injection, a death row convict in Texas promises "[his] boy Tom-Tom" he will reach up from Hell and drag Tom-Tom down for what he's done.
And then some kind of new and terrible virus surfaces at a Texas Arts and Music Festival. When Gabriel renders the scene, he finds our dead convict (name: Luther) in the images.
I still don't entirely buy this whole "rendering" thing. Here they try to cover it by saying these are partially Gabriel's imagination . . . So then how can they even consider acting on his renderings?
In any case, Gabriel wants to go to Texas to see if Luther really is out and about. Of course Cassidy and the others are against it since it means risking Gabriel catching this disease. The goal is to find "patient zero," the person who first caught this illness—Luther? They need him in order to develop a cure for whatever this is.
So Gabriel (and Riley) go anyway.
It's a sweat virus. Eww.
And then something about one of the prison guards on the phone to the Pentagon, but then the guard's car blows up. So, you know. That.
The running theory: A private contractor hired by the military has used Luther as a test subject for a pathogen, some kind of bioweapon.
So then it becomes Gabriel and Riley versus the military guys . . . But when two sides fight each other, doesn't that just leave their common enemy free to run? Stupid bureaucracy.
(It's not "Route" 35, btw. It's I-35. And probably actually out on FM 1325 or something. Maybe out by Hutto? I know me some Round Rock; I was raised in Georgetown, went to UT, and later my parents lived in Round Rock.)
Anyway, using Gabriel's ability to access lots of info from various sources, they find letters written to Luther while he was in prison, from a woman who has a farm house outside Round Rock. And sure enough Luther is there. But then the military guys show up and lock an infected Riley and an uninfected Gabriel in a shed. And set the shed on fire.
Geez, way to suck, military dudes.
This episode feels a tad over the top, actually, as an attempt to vilify the military/defense industry. I mean, they're laying it on a bit thick.
Of course Gabriel and Riley get out, and they find Luther (or he finds them), resulting in a fight wherein Gabriel also gets infected.
The general/defense guy gets arrested for, you know, turning prisoners into lab rats and also developing illegal weapons. Cliché dialogue includes the general saying, "The monsters are at the gate, Lillian," and Lillian replying, "The monsters are already here." Blech.
But the antibody is apparently created in record time since in the very next scene everyone's getting shots to cure them. And the episode ends in a cute phone call between Gabriel and Riley as they recover.
So . . . It was an interesting idea but the hack job of making the military the bad guys was so banal it dragged the whole thing down. While I can appreciate the attempts to create layers of plot by adding additional red tape—enemies within as well as without—in recent episodes the show has started to tip away from the core interest by focusing more on Lillian and all the government stuff. This would be fine if they were making it compelling at all, but it's just the same thing over and over again: Government guys saying they don't trust that Gabriel will follow orders, that they don't like that he has all these abilities, etc. It's repetitive and starting to get boring. So they'd better either go somewhere with it soon or lay off it, cuz we're tired of hearing it.
And then some kind of new and terrible virus surfaces at a Texas Arts and Music Festival. When Gabriel renders the scene, he finds our dead convict (name: Luther) in the images.
I still don't entirely buy this whole "rendering" thing. Here they try to cover it by saying these are partially Gabriel's imagination . . . So then how can they even consider acting on his renderings?
In any case, Gabriel wants to go to Texas to see if Luther really is out and about. Of course Cassidy and the others are against it since it means risking Gabriel catching this disease. The goal is to find "patient zero," the person who first caught this illness—Luther? They need him in order to develop a cure for whatever this is.
So Gabriel (and Riley) go anyway.
It's a sweat virus. Eww.
And then something about one of the prison guards on the phone to the Pentagon, but then the guard's car blows up. So, you know. That.
The running theory: A private contractor hired by the military has used Luther as a test subject for a pathogen, some kind of bioweapon.
So then it becomes Gabriel and Riley versus the military guys . . . But when two sides fight each other, doesn't that just leave their common enemy free to run? Stupid bureaucracy.
(It's not "Route" 35, btw. It's I-35. And probably actually out on FM 1325 or something. Maybe out by Hutto? I know me some Round Rock; I was raised in Georgetown, went to UT, and later my parents lived in Round Rock.)
Anyway, using Gabriel's ability to access lots of info from various sources, they find letters written to Luther while he was in prison, from a woman who has a farm house outside Round Rock. And sure enough Luther is there. But then the military guys show up and lock an infected Riley and an uninfected Gabriel in a shed. And set the shed on fire.
Geez, way to suck, military dudes.
This episode feels a tad over the top, actually, as an attempt to vilify the military/defense industry. I mean, they're laying it on a bit thick.
Of course Gabriel and Riley get out, and they find Luther (or he finds them), resulting in a fight wherein Gabriel also gets infected.
The general/defense guy gets arrested for, you know, turning prisoners into lab rats and also developing illegal weapons. Cliché dialogue includes the general saying, "The monsters are at the gate, Lillian," and Lillian replying, "The monsters are already here." Blech.
But the antibody is apparently created in record time since in the very next scene everyone's getting shots to cure them. And the episode ends in a cute phone call between Gabriel and Riley as they recover.
So . . . It was an interesting idea but the hack job of making the military the bad guys was so banal it dragged the whole thing down. While I can appreciate the attempts to create layers of plot by adding additional red tape—enemies within as well as without—in recent episodes the show has started to tip away from the core interest by focusing more on Lillian and all the government stuff. This would be fine if they were making it compelling at all, but it's just the same thing over and over again: Government guys saying they don't trust that Gabriel will follow orders, that they don't like that he has all these abilities, etc. It's repetitive and starting to get boring. So they'd better either go somewhere with it soon or lay off it, cuz we're tired of hearing it.
Self(ie)-Centered
There was a short but interesting article in Time about how Thai psychologists believe the selfie-obsessed youth of the country are going to eventually bring the country down. These psychologists cite the fact that, when these young people post selfies and don't get enough positive feedback for them, they go into a downward spiral. They post more pictures and still do not receive the reaction they are seeking. And so it goes.
[For those of you wondering, "selfie" is the word for a photograph taken by oneself of oneself.]
It's a law of diminishing returns, isn't it? The more crap you post on your Facebook page, the less people will read or respond. They'll just start skimming and scrolling by.
And then, too, with everyone being so self- (and selfie-) centered, no one is thinking of promoting others; everyone wants to star in their own life movie. They want the kudos but don't want to offer anything in return.
I don't know if it's a stretch to say this behavior will bring down a country, but it's certainly not good for society. Look at the kids who grew up being told they were special, that they could all get a trophy just for showing up . . . Then they get into the workplace and don't understand why they're expected to actually do the work and get it right, or why they can't just get promoted because they want it. They don't understand merit.
And yes, these are the same kids that now take a ton of pictures of themselves and post them on Facebook and Tumblr and Instagram and think the whole world is watching them and taking note. It's fine so long as their hundreds or thousands of "friends" (or are they "fans"? these days it seems like that's what most people keep friends for: to make them feel like a star) keep feeding their egos, but what happens if/when no one does?
Well, if the Thai psychologists are right, as these young people's egos deflate, our society collapses with them. Hmm.
Maybe it's time to start managing these kids' expectations.
[For those of you wondering, "selfie" is the word for a photograph taken by oneself of oneself.]
It's a law of diminishing returns, isn't it? The more crap you post on your Facebook page, the less people will read or respond. They'll just start skimming and scrolling by.
And then, too, with everyone being so self- (and selfie-) centered, no one is thinking of promoting others; everyone wants to star in their own life movie. They want the kudos but don't want to offer anything in return.
I don't know if it's a stretch to say this behavior will bring down a country, but it's certainly not good for society. Look at the kids who grew up being told they were special, that they could all get a trophy just for showing up . . . Then they get into the workplace and don't understand why they're expected to actually do the work and get it right, or why they can't just get promoted because they want it. They don't understand merit.
And yes, these are the same kids that now take a ton of pictures of themselves and post them on Facebook and Tumblr and Instagram and think the whole world is watching them and taking note. It's fine so long as their hundreds or thousands of "friends" (or are they "fans"? these days it seems like that's what most people keep friends for: to make them feel like a star) keep feeding their egos, but what happens if/when no one does?
Well, if the Thai psychologists are right, as these young people's egos deflate, our society collapses with them. Hmm.
Maybe it's time to start managing these kids' expectations.
Television: True Detective, "Who Goes There"
Less of the interview frame story this week, though that appears to be coming to a head. I'm glad the writers aren't playing coy or pretending that the seeming interest in Cohle is really nothing. We're halfway through now, too, so things should begin to come together.
But first, they must fall apart. As Marty's marriage did this week after his mistress went and told Maggie everything. This serves to distract Marty, which of course will be part of the interviewers' point: that Marty was focused elsewhere, which is why he missed so much of what was really going on.
And what is going on? Well, Cohle gets a line on Ledoux, their chief suspect. But in order to get closer, he'll have to return to his old undercover persona "Crash."
The showpiece of the episode was a long tracking shot near the end that featured Cohle and his old buddies—most particularly, the guy he needs in order to get to Ledoux—as they bust their way into a stash house and then back out of the projects. Beautifully done and very intense. (Anyone remember Rope? Not actually one whole shot but made to look that way? One of my all-time favorite movies.)
This show just keeps getting better. Does make me wonder what they'll do for next season, though. I don't think they can top this—that's the downfall of doing something so well right off the bat; you've set expectations—but if they can at least do as well, that will be something.
As a personal aside, I learned the other evening that one of my aunts (by marriage, but by divorce we'd no longer be related) was murdered in an Erath cane field. Stabbed 67 times. They never found the guy. Weird, the things that get dragged out when fiction follows fact.
To lighten the mood, and to give fans something to do while waiting for the next episode: click here. (As a rule I don't much like Tumblr, but I make an exception for this one.)
But first, they must fall apart. As Marty's marriage did this week after his mistress went and told Maggie everything. This serves to distract Marty, which of course will be part of the interviewers' point: that Marty was focused elsewhere, which is why he missed so much of what was really going on.
And what is going on? Well, Cohle gets a line on Ledoux, their chief suspect. But in order to get closer, he'll have to return to his old undercover persona "Crash."
The showpiece of the episode was a long tracking shot near the end that featured Cohle and his old buddies—most particularly, the guy he needs in order to get to Ledoux—as they bust their way into a stash house and then back out of the projects. Beautifully done and very intense. (Anyone remember Rope? Not actually one whole shot but made to look that way? One of my all-time favorite movies.)
This show just keeps getting better. Does make me wonder what they'll do for next season, though. I don't think they can top this—that's the downfall of doing something so well right off the bat; you've set expectations—but if they can at least do as well, that will be something.
As a personal aside, I learned the other evening that one of my aunts (by marriage, but by divorce we'd no longer be related) was murdered in an Erath cane field. Stabbed 67 times. They never found the guy. Weird, the things that get dragged out when fiction follows fact.
To lighten the mood, and to give fans something to do while waiting for the next episode: click here. (As a rule I don't much like Tumblr, but I make an exception for this one.)
2.06.2014
Television: Elementary, "Corpse de Ballet"
We begin with the writers wanting to put Holmes's sex life in perspective for the viewers: Basically, he has it often and with numerous women. No emotional strings attached, of course. But his revolving door does require Watson to stock to-go cups so she can offer the "guests" morning coffee.
Then we get a ballerina cut in half.
But what killed her was having her throat cut with a box cutter. A personalized box cutter that belongs to Iris, the lead ballerina. The dead dancer (Nell) had been the original inspiration for the lead role but then the part went to Iris, a "more established" ballerina.
Meanwhile, Watson gets pulled away by a schizophrenic man named Morris taken to the hospital after taking a swing at a cop. He's convinced someone has taken his friend Freebo.
When Iris's alibi falls through, she is brought in for questioning and gets snippy, resulting in her being arrested for the murder. She makes bail but cannot leave the country (which she had planned to do, a trip to Montreal to teach a master class). And, not unexpectedly given the writers having made it a point to establish Holmes's sex life, Iris ends up as yet another in his line of lovers.
This is a particular peeve of mine, the way writers and shows often don't bother with some aspect or angle of a character's life until they need it for a plot. I mean, we've been given hints of Holmes being free and loose with his physical entanglements, but one knows immediately when it's being suddenly brought to the fore that it will bear on the episode.
Holmes's conviction that Iris is innocent is somewhat bizarre. Is he star struck? He assumes her torn rotator cuff means she cannot have worked the pulley that lifted Nell's body. But what if the pulley is how she hurt herself? And with the way Iris is allying herself with Holmes, and her lawyer is giving Holmes busy work . . .
And Watson is still looking for Freebo.
Holmes is working his way through people Iris has restraining orders against, stalkers and paparazzi and the like. The idea is that someone would want to frame her to get back at her.
But then an anonymous thumb drive with a voice mail from Iris to Nell . . . About their relationship, and how if Nell tries to walk away "there will be consequences." Turns out there is spyware on Iris's cell phone; one of the paparazzi Holmes had investigated cloned Iris's phone. But he has a solid alibi for the night of Nell's murder.
Big reveal of the night: Watson's birth father is a homeless schizophrenic. (The man we've met is actually Watson's step-father.)
Holmes deduces Iris's lawyer was the one to leak the voice mail and accuses him of murdering Nell in order to create publicity for Iris.
Watson, meanwhile, figures out that Freebo's "sister" isn't really his sister and discovers the woman posing as his sister has been holding Freebo and two other homeless men hostage in order to cash their disability and welfare checks. As B plots go, this one was kind of weak but had the benefits of being (a) short, and (b) emotionally satisfying in its conclusion.
Iris is exonerated (I still feel like the episode lost something in making her innocent); the lawyer is arrested. And Holmes makes advances in empathy when he offers to take some old blankets to the park to see if anyone might need them. Watson's visible gratitude is a testament to the strengthening bond between the characters, and this really is the best thing about the series; the writers have done such a lovely job continuing to build the core relationship. Even tiny moments contribute. Sometimes—often—they contribute more than the big moments.
Then we get a ballerina cut in half.
But what killed her was having her throat cut with a box cutter. A personalized box cutter that belongs to Iris, the lead ballerina. The dead dancer (Nell) had been the original inspiration for the lead role but then the part went to Iris, a "more established" ballerina.
Meanwhile, Watson gets pulled away by a schizophrenic man named Morris taken to the hospital after taking a swing at a cop. He's convinced someone has taken his friend Freebo.
When Iris's alibi falls through, she is brought in for questioning and gets snippy, resulting in her being arrested for the murder. She makes bail but cannot leave the country (which she had planned to do, a trip to Montreal to teach a master class). And, not unexpectedly given the writers having made it a point to establish Holmes's sex life, Iris ends up as yet another in his line of lovers.
This is a particular peeve of mine, the way writers and shows often don't bother with some aspect or angle of a character's life until they need it for a plot. I mean, we've been given hints of Holmes being free and loose with his physical entanglements, but one knows immediately when it's being suddenly brought to the fore that it will bear on the episode.
Holmes's conviction that Iris is innocent is somewhat bizarre. Is he star struck? He assumes her torn rotator cuff means she cannot have worked the pulley that lifted Nell's body. But what if the pulley is how she hurt herself? And with the way Iris is allying herself with Holmes, and her lawyer is giving Holmes busy work . . .
And Watson is still looking for Freebo.
Holmes is working his way through people Iris has restraining orders against, stalkers and paparazzi and the like. The idea is that someone would want to frame her to get back at her.
But then an anonymous thumb drive with a voice mail from Iris to Nell . . . About their relationship, and how if Nell tries to walk away "there will be consequences." Turns out there is spyware on Iris's cell phone; one of the paparazzi Holmes had investigated cloned Iris's phone. But he has a solid alibi for the night of Nell's murder.
Big reveal of the night: Watson's birth father is a homeless schizophrenic. (The man we've met is actually Watson's step-father.)
Holmes deduces Iris's lawyer was the one to leak the voice mail and accuses him of murdering Nell in order to create publicity for Iris.
Watson, meanwhile, figures out that Freebo's "sister" isn't really his sister and discovers the woman posing as his sister has been holding Freebo and two other homeless men hostage in order to cash their disability and welfare checks. As B plots go, this one was kind of weak but had the benefits of being (a) short, and (b) emotionally satisfying in its conclusion.
Iris is exonerated (I still feel like the episode lost something in making her innocent); the lawyer is arrested. And Holmes makes advances in empathy when he offers to take some old blankets to the park to see if anyone might need them. Watson's visible gratitude is a testament to the strengthening bond between the characters, and this really is the best thing about the series; the writers have done such a lovely job continuing to build the core relationship. Even tiny moments contribute. Sometimes—often—they contribute more than the big moments.
2.05.2014
Books: Power Tarot by Trish MacGregor and Phyllis Vega
I've talked about my Tarot card habit, the fact that I collect these cards. I have a few books, too, "idiot's guides" and such. But I have to say, of all the random Tarot texts I've managed to collect from Half Price Books and the like, Power Tarot is by far the most useful.
The authors here do a fabulous job of covering the meaning of each card, both in general and in specific kinds of readings. For example, each card is broken down into its meanings in a "Work" reading, "Romance," "Finances," and so on. This helps immensely if you're like me and have only the most basic sense of the cards but then wonder what the hell the High Priestess means when I've asked about my most recent writing project.
I realize, of course, that good Tarot reading stems from a certain amount of intuition. It is not paint-by-number. Sometimes my logical mind struggles with this, but I'm getting better at connecting with and feeling the cards. Still, a book like Power Tarot is a nice reference for when I get stumped.
Besides the card descriptions (though they are the bulk of the book), MacGregor and Vega also offer notes on how to figure out timing of events, which cards mean yes, no, or maybe, and things of that sort. And then the back part of the book is filled with a variety of spreads, many designed to answer specific questions, others easy to adapt to whatever situation you might want to do a reading about. The spreads become increasingly complex as you go along so that you can build your abilities and grow your confidence.
Bottom line is, while a lot of my other Tarot books will continue to sit on my shelves and almost never be touched, this one will probably remain on or near my desk as a regular reference. Because even as I get better at fiddling with these cards, I like the idea of having a touchstone nearby. But I hadn't found a book that would serve. Now I have.
The authors here do a fabulous job of covering the meaning of each card, both in general and in specific kinds of readings. For example, each card is broken down into its meanings in a "Work" reading, "Romance," "Finances," and so on. This helps immensely if you're like me and have only the most basic sense of the cards but then wonder what the hell the High Priestess means when I've asked about my most recent writing project.
I realize, of course, that good Tarot reading stems from a certain amount of intuition. It is not paint-by-number. Sometimes my logical mind struggles with this, but I'm getting better at connecting with and feeling the cards. Still, a book like Power Tarot is a nice reference for when I get stumped.
Besides the card descriptions (though they are the bulk of the book), MacGregor and Vega also offer notes on how to figure out timing of events, which cards mean yes, no, or maybe, and things of that sort. And then the back part of the book is filled with a variety of spreads, many designed to answer specific questions, others easy to adapt to whatever situation you might want to do a reading about. The spreads become increasingly complex as you go along so that you can build your abilities and grow your confidence.
Bottom line is, while a lot of my other Tarot books will continue to sit on my shelves and almost never be touched, this one will probably remain on or near my desk as a regular reference. Because even as I get better at fiddling with these cards, I like the idea of having a touchstone nearby. But I hadn't found a book that would serve. Now I have.
Television: Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., "T.R.A.C.K.S."
There is, in television and film, a gimmicky way of telling the same story from the various points of view of many characters, and this episode had it: The audio marker of the P.A. announcement. So that one could discern where everyone was when that announcement was made. It's fine . . . It's nice to see the writers try to do something different and interesting with the structure . . . But it still felt a bit like a gimmick.
It was also pretty clear Russo was the bad guy long before they revealed it. But at least they didn't try to drag it out and turn it into some huge surprise. Because it wasn't. No, the "big" reveal near the end of the episode was that Michael is Deathlok. So I guess we're filling in the margins of this massive universe.
The rest of the episode . . . Meh. We spent so much time seeing where everyone was when the announcement was made that my attention wandered. By the time we got to Skye being shot, I didn't much care.
The setup was that Coulson horned in on Russo's territory in an attempt to grab Quinn and so get closer to the Clairvoyant. The team went undercover on an Italian train, and I kind of wish they'd spent more time exploring that aspect because it could have been a lot of fun. But Russo had some underhanded deals that he wanted to keep to himself and so set up an ambush on Coulson's team. And there was some technology involved that caused the train to "vanish" (cloaked it), and froze time for people . . . Whatever. Really, I just couldn't be bothered. Though I'm sure it will be important later.
Sum total: Michael is Deathlok and Skye got shot (because Quinn had orders from the Clairvoyant).
We won't see the ultimate results of all this until March 4, which is when the show returns. Maybe I'll care more then.
It was also pretty clear Russo was the bad guy long before they revealed it. But at least they didn't try to drag it out and turn it into some huge surprise. Because it wasn't. No, the "big" reveal near the end of the episode was that Michael is Deathlok. So I guess we're filling in the margins of this massive universe.
The rest of the episode . . . Meh. We spent so much time seeing where everyone was when the announcement was made that my attention wandered. By the time we got to Skye being shot, I didn't much care.
The setup was that Coulson horned in on Russo's territory in an attempt to grab Quinn and so get closer to the Clairvoyant. The team went undercover on an Italian train, and I kind of wish they'd spent more time exploring that aspect because it could have been a lot of fun. But Russo had some underhanded deals that he wanted to keep to himself and so set up an ambush on Coulson's team. And there was some technology involved that caused the train to "vanish" (cloaked it), and froze time for people . . . Whatever. Really, I just couldn't be bothered. Though I'm sure it will be important later.
Sum total: Michael is Deathlok and Skye got shot (because Quinn had orders from the Clairvoyant).
We won't see the ultimate results of all this until March 4, which is when the show returns. Maybe I'll care more then.
2.04.2014
Television: Intelligence, "The Rescue"
Despite the addition of Peter Coyote—and yes, I did in fact say aloud as I watched, "Hey! It's Peter Coyote!" (you know him when you hear him, if not when you see him)—I found it difficult to keep my attention on this episode.
It began with the abduction of a couple college girls; as it turned out, one of the girls was the daughter of a senator, the other being her luckless roommate. Once it became clear the whole thing was about a Mexican drug lord, I sort of tuned out. I've mentioned before in my Elementary write-ups that I'm not really a mob or drug lord kind of girl; those kinds of stories just don't interest me. So maybe this was a fantastic plot, but just not my thing.
The drug lord wanted to stop the sale of a satellite from the U.S. to Mexico, something that would interfere with his operations. The plot thickened, however, once it was revealed that the U.S. actually bankrolled this guy. That is, he was on the payroll as an informant. And yes, the U.S. did know he was a drug lord. But a useful drug lord is, apparently, worth something.
Gabriel and Riley got lost in the shuffle in this episode. Their job was pretty straightforward: find and rescue the girls. Meanwhile, Lillian wrestled with her conscience and her dad Leland (that would be Peter Coyote, the one who worked with the drug lord—I missed and/or wasn't clear on his actual position in the government).
The big finish came when the girls were safe and Gabriel had a clear shot at the drug lord but Leland said no. And for once Gabriel followed orders and let the baddie go. Lillian wasn't loving that, though, and took matters into her own hands by having the drug lord killed by . . . Who? A woman Lillian had bought off? A new evil? Unclear. The debate being, of course, whether replacing an old devil with a new one does anyone any good.
BTW, I had to wonder at Gabriel using the alarm system to cause a distraction so they could rescue the girl . . . Didn't he do something very similar in the last episode? Learn some new tricks, buddy. (Or, I guess, if it works . . . Still, I'd like to see the writers be creative. It's too early in the series for them to be lazy about these things.)
Pretty standard fare overall, though the introduction of Leland and the potential friction between him and his daughter may add yet another layer of interest as things progress.
It began with the abduction of a couple college girls; as it turned out, one of the girls was the daughter of a senator, the other being her luckless roommate. Once it became clear the whole thing was about a Mexican drug lord, I sort of tuned out. I've mentioned before in my Elementary write-ups that I'm not really a mob or drug lord kind of girl; those kinds of stories just don't interest me. So maybe this was a fantastic plot, but just not my thing.
The drug lord wanted to stop the sale of a satellite from the U.S. to Mexico, something that would interfere with his operations. The plot thickened, however, once it was revealed that the U.S. actually bankrolled this guy. That is, he was on the payroll as an informant. And yes, the U.S. did know he was a drug lord. But a useful drug lord is, apparently, worth something.
Gabriel and Riley got lost in the shuffle in this episode. Their job was pretty straightforward: find and rescue the girls. Meanwhile, Lillian wrestled with her conscience and her dad Leland (that would be Peter Coyote, the one who worked with the drug lord—I missed and/or wasn't clear on his actual position in the government).
The big finish came when the girls were safe and Gabriel had a clear shot at the drug lord but Leland said no. And for once Gabriel followed orders and let the baddie go. Lillian wasn't loving that, though, and took matters into her own hands by having the drug lord killed by . . . Who? A woman Lillian had bought off? A new evil? Unclear. The debate being, of course, whether replacing an old devil with a new one does anyone any good.
BTW, I had to wonder at Gabriel using the alarm system to cause a distraction so they could rescue the girl . . . Didn't he do something very similar in the last episode? Learn some new tricks, buddy. (Or, I guess, if it works . . . Still, I'd like to see the writers be creative. It's too early in the series for them to be lazy about these things.)
Pretty standard fare overall, though the introduction of Leland and the potential friction between him and his daughter may add yet another layer of interest as things progress.
2.03.2014
Television: Almost Human, "Unbound"
A service bot is programmed to commit a random crime so that it will be stored in police evidence, allowing it access to a specific android head—that of Danica, a homicidal droid who once perpetrated terrible violence (hence its head being in evidence).
Then we get the story of [John Larroquette], the man who had created Danica, and before that Dorian. Two failed models bankrupted him and sent him to trial besides; he now works out of a makeshift lab.
Well, we all know then that Larroquette—and he's always John Larroquette, even if they call him Nigel or Vaughn or Dan or whomever—is the one to program the bot and set her loose, right? Except no one else seems to figure this out. People get really stupid really fast in the future. Though, looking at the world today, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
Danica supposedly goes to Larroquette's makeshift lab to get a new body. She gives him an unconvincing cut on the forehead to make it look like he was assaulted. Larroquette is taken to Rudy's lab, and they dig out all Larroquette's old stuff so he can track Danica.
And Danica is set to steal 500 android processors. See? How can they not figure out that she's doing it for Larroquette? She drops them for Larroquette to pick up later, then goes off on another mission to attack some councilmen that had lobbied against Larroquette back in the day. It's a wild goose chase of sorts, meant to distract Kennex and the rest from the real goal of getting the processors. So while Kennex and Dorian are out blowing Danica to bits, Larroquette slips away to fetch those processors.
Dorian is kinda pissed that his maker would do such a thing. But he also has the epiphany that Larroquette will need a lab to work in with all those androids he's planning to build. "Over the wall." Because that's the only place far enough off the grid. (And btw, as far as epiphanies go, that was was pretty weak. I mean, how much logic would that honestly take to deduce? Not a whole fucking lot. It's one big "NO DUH" from the viewers.)
We don't find out if it's true or not because the episode ends. So one supposes this is going to be an ongoing kind of thing. I'll say John Larroquette certainly livens things up a bit, when given enough to do, which he wasn't quite here. But the promise of more John Larroquette to come . . . I really think he should have been a Q on ST:TNG, up there with John de Lancie and Corbin Bernsen. Anyone who plays a convincingly nasty and underhanded lawyer, actually, would make a good Q. That seems to be the rule of thumb anyway.
Not coincidentally, I was a tough debater in high school. And also have the nickname "Q." Hmm.
Well, whatever. This episode had an interesting if predictable construct that is clearly meant to bear the weight of what comes after. Let's hope they do a better job of designing something smart and surprising though; it's not much fun to watch if you're way ahead of the heroes in figuring things out. It's more like watching someone slow do a crossword puzzle. You just want to take it away and finish it for them. That's not entertainment; that's excruciating.
Then we get the story of [John Larroquette], the man who had created Danica, and before that Dorian. Two failed models bankrupted him and sent him to trial besides; he now works out of a makeshift lab.
Well, we all know then that Larroquette—and he's always John Larroquette, even if they call him Nigel or Vaughn or Dan or whomever—is the one to program the bot and set her loose, right? Except no one else seems to figure this out. People get really stupid really fast in the future. Though, looking at the world today, I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
Danica supposedly goes to Larroquette's makeshift lab to get a new body. She gives him an unconvincing cut on the forehead to make it look like he was assaulted. Larroquette is taken to Rudy's lab, and they dig out all Larroquette's old stuff so he can track Danica.
And Danica is set to steal 500 android processors. See? How can they not figure out that she's doing it for Larroquette? She drops them for Larroquette to pick up later, then goes off on another mission to attack some councilmen that had lobbied against Larroquette back in the day. It's a wild goose chase of sorts, meant to distract Kennex and the rest from the real goal of getting the processors. So while Kennex and Dorian are out blowing Danica to bits, Larroquette slips away to fetch those processors.
Dorian is kinda pissed that his maker would do such a thing. But he also has the epiphany that Larroquette will need a lab to work in with all those androids he's planning to build. "Over the wall." Because that's the only place far enough off the grid. (And btw, as far as epiphanies go, that was was pretty weak. I mean, how much logic would that honestly take to deduce? Not a whole fucking lot. It's one big "NO DUH" from the viewers.)
We don't find out if it's true or not because the episode ends. So one supposes this is going to be an ongoing kind of thing. I'll say John Larroquette certainly livens things up a bit, when given enough to do, which he wasn't quite here. But the promise of more John Larroquette to come . . . I really think he should have been a Q on ST:TNG, up there with John de Lancie and Corbin Bernsen. Anyone who plays a convincingly nasty and underhanded lawyer, actually, would make a good Q. That seems to be the rule of thumb anyway.
Not coincidentally, I was a tough debater in high school. And also have the nickname "Q." Hmm.
Well, whatever. This episode had an interesting if predictable construct that is clearly meant to bear the weight of what comes after. Let's hope they do a better job of designing something smart and surprising though; it's not much fun to watch if you're way ahead of the heroes in figuring things out. It's more like watching someone slow do a crossword puzzle. You just want to take it away and finish it for them. That's not entertainment; that's excruciating.
More Things that Smell Good
We've (I've) talked about candles at some length, but while in Las Vegas this weekend, I discovered new and wonderful things that smell divine. Candles, yes, but also bath salts and personalized fragrances. I'm talking about Nectar USA. (Their Web site isn't up and running yet, so I've directed you to their Facebook page.) And while a lot of their products do break my rule about smelling like food—in fact, at first glance the appeared to be a pastry shop—there are some wonderful non-foodie scents as well. I'm burning a Love candle in my office at the moment and it's fantastic. The two bath bombs I bought . . . Unfortunately, they don't have labels, so I don't know the names, but aaahh . . . And they left my skin so silky and soft, too! And the bath salts (also in Love scent) bubble up quite nice and thick. This is destined to be a new favorite of mine, I think.
Television: Sherlock, "His Last Vow"
As always, my thoughts are over on PepperWords.
Initial Thoughts
Another Thing
Notes After a Second Viewing
Initial Thoughts
Another Thing
Notes After a Second Viewing
1.31.2014
Television: Elementary, "Dead Clade Walking"
While Holmes is at Randy's beck and call (you'll recall Randy is the recovering addict Holmes has agreed to sponsor), Watson digs into one of Holmes's old cold cases and finds new leads.
The murder of Doug Newburg has gone unsolved for three years. But Watson notices an odd rock in an old photograph of Newburg's yard and brings in a geologist for a better look. Turns out the rock is from the Cretaceous period, and when Watson brings it for a scan, a rare dinosaur skeleton is discovered within.
Here yet again we are faced with the whole that-guy-you-met-briefly-is-the-one-who-did-it scenario. Watson and Holmes talk to Dr. Thomas at a local museum to get the scoop on the nanotyrannus (like a small tyrannosaurus). Remember him because he'll be important later, by which I mean in the last four minutes of the show.
We take off on predictable lines from there: black market collectors, etc. But then the black market guy is found murdered and the fossil smashed to bits. If not wanted for its value, why kill for it and destroy it?
Turns out the skeleton advances a controversial paleontological theory. I won't go into specifics because they aren't really relevant to the core of the plot, namely that those against the theory would want the skeleton gone to prevent themselves from looking like fools. OR . . . to prevent their textbooks from becoming obsolete. Which maybe amounts to the same thing: wounded pride. Though the second also involves a wounded wallet.
And so we come back around to Dr. Thomas from the museum. Nothing very exciting in this story, and it's a wonder Holmes didn't solve it, though it seems he may have been high during those years. (Oh, if you're wondering about Doug Newburg—his smuggler friend asked him to hold on to the rock for him, but then Doug was killed by those who didn't want the fossil on the market, and so the fossil remained hidden in the rock in Doug's yard . . . It was only when the fossil re-emerged on the market that the people trying to keep it secret were motivated to kill again, this time the black market dude. Perhaps it was the lack of clear motivation on the part of the killer that stymied Holmes at the time.)
Meanwhile, back at the B Plot, we have Holmes meeting repeatedly with Randy, whose [ex?] girlfriend Eve has turned up after a year or more away. She was the one who got him started on drugs, and now that she's back . . . Asking to crash at Randy's place . . . He's afraid he'll start using again. The answer here seems pretty clear: No more Eve. Holmes tries at first to be gentle, but then frustration gets the better of him and he snaps at Randy. So Randy goes and gets high with Eve. Then comes back around to tell Holmes he's dropped Eve.
This story was not terribly well done. The emotions here were stilted, and maybe that was the point, but on the whole it failed to hit whatever mark it was aiming for—it failed to hit much of anything. Seemed more like a way to fill the rest of the hour. Holmes-as-sponsor has potential, but it needs to be played very carefully. Here it was flat. So far he's a better patient than he is doctor. Maybe, since he's taught Watson so much, she can return the favor? Teach him a bit about being a sponsor?
The one interesting insertion in the episode is the item that was mostly a throw away: Holmes has an erotic penpal. They send each other naughty letters. We meet "C." ever so briefly, since it turns out she works for an auction service. How interesting it might have been if she'd been the murderer . . . But she was too nice, too elegant for that. I would actually have been sad if it had been her. Would have made a great plot twist though. And this show could do with a few more twists.
The murder of Doug Newburg has gone unsolved for three years. But Watson notices an odd rock in an old photograph of Newburg's yard and brings in a geologist for a better look. Turns out the rock is from the Cretaceous period, and when Watson brings it for a scan, a rare dinosaur skeleton is discovered within.
Here yet again we are faced with the whole that-guy-you-met-briefly-is-the-one-who-did-it scenario. Watson and Holmes talk to Dr. Thomas at a local museum to get the scoop on the nanotyrannus (like a small tyrannosaurus). Remember him because he'll be important later, by which I mean in the last four minutes of the show.
We take off on predictable lines from there: black market collectors, etc. But then the black market guy is found murdered and the fossil smashed to bits. If not wanted for its value, why kill for it and destroy it?
Turns out the skeleton advances a controversial paleontological theory. I won't go into specifics because they aren't really relevant to the core of the plot, namely that those against the theory would want the skeleton gone to prevent themselves from looking like fools. OR . . . to prevent their textbooks from becoming obsolete. Which maybe amounts to the same thing: wounded pride. Though the second also involves a wounded wallet.
And so we come back around to Dr. Thomas from the museum. Nothing very exciting in this story, and it's a wonder Holmes didn't solve it, though it seems he may have been high during those years. (Oh, if you're wondering about Doug Newburg—his smuggler friend asked him to hold on to the rock for him, but then Doug was killed by those who didn't want the fossil on the market, and so the fossil remained hidden in the rock in Doug's yard . . . It was only when the fossil re-emerged on the market that the people trying to keep it secret were motivated to kill again, this time the black market dude. Perhaps it was the lack of clear motivation on the part of the killer that stymied Holmes at the time.)
Meanwhile, back at the B Plot, we have Holmes meeting repeatedly with Randy, whose [ex?] girlfriend Eve has turned up after a year or more away. She was the one who got him started on drugs, and now that she's back . . . Asking to crash at Randy's place . . . He's afraid he'll start using again. The answer here seems pretty clear: No more Eve. Holmes tries at first to be gentle, but then frustration gets the better of him and he snaps at Randy. So Randy goes and gets high with Eve. Then comes back around to tell Holmes he's dropped Eve.
This story was not terribly well done. The emotions here were stilted, and maybe that was the point, but on the whole it failed to hit whatever mark it was aiming for—it failed to hit much of anything. Seemed more like a way to fill the rest of the hour. Holmes-as-sponsor has potential, but it needs to be played very carefully. Here it was flat. So far he's a better patient than he is doctor. Maybe, since he's taught Watson so much, she can return the favor? Teach him a bit about being a sponsor?
The one interesting insertion in the episode is the item that was mostly a throw away: Holmes has an erotic penpal. They send each other naughty letters. We meet "C." ever so briefly, since it turns out she works for an auction service. How interesting it might have been if she'd been the murderer . . . But she was too nice, too elegant for that. I would actually have been sad if it had been her. Would have made a great plot twist though. And this show could do with a few more twists.
1.30.2014
Television: AHS: Coven, "The Seven Wonders"
While the finale did manage to put a neat bow on things, I have to say, on the whole Coven was a right mess and nowhere near as well done as Asylum.
The episode started with what amounted to a Stevie Nix video, her singing about the seven wonders and rainbows as the candidates for Supreme prepared for the big test. Each was to attempt the seven wonders themselves so as to determine who would next rule the coven.
Candidates were Madison, Zoe, Queenie, and Misty.
They started with telekinesis. All good. Mind control, which led to Madison and Zoe fighting it out over Kyle. Still, everyone passed. But then we got to descending into the underworld, easy enough to do; it's the getting back out that's difficult. And that's where we lost Misty to her own personal hell, which apparently is biology class.
Next up was transmutation. AKA: witch tag. And here is where we lost Zoe, who ended up impaled on one of the iron spires of the gates. Which led naturally to bringing the dead back to life (if only Misty were there!). Queenie was unable to bring Zoe back, knocking her out of contention. And Madison—who proved she could do it by bringing back a dead fly—refused to revive Zoe.
With all rivals out of the running, Madison naturally assumed she was the next Supreme. But Myrtle talked Cordelia into throwing her hat into the ring. And so Cordelia played catch up: telekinesis, mind control, transmutation, the underworld . . . And then they came to divination. Which would seem to be the least of a witch's gifts (or powers, if you prefer), but which totally stumped Madison. Cordelia, of course, passed with flying colors.
In a fit of temper, Madison goes to pack her bags and threatens to sic TMZ on the coven. But while Cordelia was down in the greenhouse bringing Zoe back, Kyle was up in Madison's room throttling her to death for not helping Zoe. Then Spaulding turned up to help Kyle get rid of the body.
Now confirmed as the Supreme, Cordelia called in the television stations and made the coven known to the world. Better to control the information, one supposes. But this felt like a retread of the end of Asylum. Don't the writers have any new ideas?
And then Myrtle insisted on being burned at the stake again. Which seemed like poor planning because one would think, now that everyone knows about the coven, they might be under surveillance. Like . . . Would this turn into an X-Men kind of thing where people want to monitor the witches and pass laws meant to restrict and/or control them? But clearly the writers weren't interested in the larger ramifications.
Of course the show could not end without one last visit from Fiona. There was some drivel about how she'd tricked everyone into believing she was dead, but the sum total of her visit was that she died for real and went into a hell of her own, an eternity spent with the Axeman. Whatever. The conversation between Fiona and Cordelia demonstrated that the overall theme of the show was meant to be a mother-daughter rivalry kind of thing. But I'm not convinced the writers are qualified to comment on such a theme. And all of their "commentary" remained highly superficial. Yes, the young ones supplant the old. (Kyle, too, ended up taking Spaulding's place as "the help.") And yes, it is often a messy transition. But so? Give me something deeper.
What made Coven more feeble than Asylum was its lack of focus. Coven chose to cut wide rather than deep and suffered for it. Any number of the plots had potential—the witch hunters, the church-going neighbors, the murderous ghost, the rivalries, Laveau and LaLaurie—but instead of doing one or two well, they opted to try to do all of it, and so all of them came out half baked. For once, having a limited number of episodes worked against the show. If they'd had more time, maybe they could have fleshed things out a bit more.
Better luck next season, which I understand is set primarily in the 1950s. Jessica Lange will be back, and I've heard Sarah Paulson as well. I guess the best thing about a show like this one is that if one season doesn't work out, there's always a clean slate to go back to.
The episode started with what amounted to a Stevie Nix video, her singing about the seven wonders and rainbows as the candidates for Supreme prepared for the big test. Each was to attempt the seven wonders themselves so as to determine who would next rule the coven.
Candidates were Madison, Zoe, Queenie, and Misty.
They started with telekinesis. All good. Mind control, which led to Madison and Zoe fighting it out over Kyle. Still, everyone passed. But then we got to descending into the underworld, easy enough to do; it's the getting back out that's difficult. And that's where we lost Misty to her own personal hell, which apparently is biology class.
Next up was transmutation. AKA: witch tag. And here is where we lost Zoe, who ended up impaled on one of the iron spires of the gates. Which led naturally to bringing the dead back to life (if only Misty were there!). Queenie was unable to bring Zoe back, knocking her out of contention. And Madison—who proved she could do it by bringing back a dead fly—refused to revive Zoe.
With all rivals out of the running, Madison naturally assumed she was the next Supreme. But Myrtle talked Cordelia into throwing her hat into the ring. And so Cordelia played catch up: telekinesis, mind control, transmutation, the underworld . . . And then they came to divination. Which would seem to be the least of a witch's gifts (or powers, if you prefer), but which totally stumped Madison. Cordelia, of course, passed with flying colors.
In a fit of temper, Madison goes to pack her bags and threatens to sic TMZ on the coven. But while Cordelia was down in the greenhouse bringing Zoe back, Kyle was up in Madison's room throttling her to death for not helping Zoe. Then Spaulding turned up to help Kyle get rid of the body.
Now confirmed as the Supreme, Cordelia called in the television stations and made the coven known to the world. Better to control the information, one supposes. But this felt like a retread of the end of Asylum. Don't the writers have any new ideas?
And then Myrtle insisted on being burned at the stake again. Which seemed like poor planning because one would think, now that everyone knows about the coven, they might be under surveillance. Like . . . Would this turn into an X-Men kind of thing where people want to monitor the witches and pass laws meant to restrict and/or control them? But clearly the writers weren't interested in the larger ramifications.
Of course the show could not end without one last visit from Fiona. There was some drivel about how she'd tricked everyone into believing she was dead, but the sum total of her visit was that she died for real and went into a hell of her own, an eternity spent with the Axeman. Whatever. The conversation between Fiona and Cordelia demonstrated that the overall theme of the show was meant to be a mother-daughter rivalry kind of thing. But I'm not convinced the writers are qualified to comment on such a theme. And all of their "commentary" remained highly superficial. Yes, the young ones supplant the old. (Kyle, too, ended up taking Spaulding's place as "the help.") And yes, it is often a messy transition. But so? Give me something deeper.
What made Coven more feeble than Asylum was its lack of focus. Coven chose to cut wide rather than deep and suffered for it. Any number of the plots had potential—the witch hunters, the church-going neighbors, the murderous ghost, the rivalries, Laveau and LaLaurie—but instead of doing one or two well, they opted to try to do all of it, and so all of them came out half baked. For once, having a limited number of episodes worked against the show. If they'd had more time, maybe they could have fleshed things out a bit more.
Better luck next season, which I understand is set primarily in the 1950s. Jessica Lange will be back, and I've heard Sarah Paulson as well. I guess the best thing about a show like this one is that if one season doesn't work out, there's always a clean slate to go back to.
Television: Revolution, "Happy Endings"
I kinda don't care any more.
Scratch that. I used to care about Miles—he was, for a long time, the most interesting character on the show. But he's plateaued a bit. There's been no development on that front, and I find Rachel really annoying, and since the writers are shoving Miles/Rachel down our throats . . . And I don't care at all about Gene, either. So that whole story line = meh.
I am kind of interested in what Monroe, Connor, and Charlie are up to. Just how do they plan to revive the Monroe Republic? And what will Charlie do when she realizes that's what they're up to? (And which is the lesser evil: Patriots or Monroe?)
And Aaron and Priscilla have gone to Lubbock, as directed by the nanotech. Would kind of suck if the nanos were just jerking them around . . . But it would be funny in a way, too. Ha! If the nanos had developed a sense of humor? But no, they've sent A&P (har) to where their fellow programmer Peter has taken up residence. And how clever of the writers to give Peter that biblical name, the "rock" upon which Christ built his church. Cuz that's what Peter does now: preaches and heals.
I find Aaron to be something of a drip, and Priscilla is a big, empty non-character at this point. But the Peter guy could be interesting. Someone who was never popular, now with the means to be popular, and perhaps also with a deep-seated faith driving him (it's thus far unclear how much he really believes and how much of it is him enjoying his moment) . . . I think we're about to go down the old road of showing how people who will not listen to reason—people with unswerving faith and set in their minds—are some of the most dangerous in the world. (I won't get into my personal beliefs here except to point you to a post I wrote on it a couple years back.)
Latest development is that Neville and Jason have been sent by President Davis to Willoughby to find and execute Monroe. And Neville agrees because Davis is holding Julia and will execute her if Neville fails. So off they go, and after a snarling match with Truman, Neville hits up Miles and Rachel and says he wants their help against the Patriots. We all know this is not true; Neville's priority has always been Julia. So it's safe to assume he's playing on Miles to get at where Monroe is. Which, as it turns out, is New Vegas (with Bret Michaels and the mummified remains of Steven Tyler), but Miles hasn't told Neville that. Yet.
The show isn't back until late February as NBC pauses for the Olympics. There is potential in some of what is going on, but the lack of character development is disturbing. The writers seem focused more on plot points than anything really interesting with the characters themselves. Even in emotional situations, the characters don't change at all. Monroe found his son! Yet he's the same old Monroe. Aaron can control nanotech! But he's still an anxious schlub. It's not clear whether Revolution will see a third season, but if it does, the writers need to work on character as well as plot. If you can't make them likable, at least make them interesting.
Scratch that. I used to care about Miles—he was, for a long time, the most interesting character on the show. But he's plateaued a bit. There's been no development on that front, and I find Rachel really annoying, and since the writers are shoving Miles/Rachel down our throats . . . And I don't care at all about Gene, either. So that whole story line = meh.
I am kind of interested in what Monroe, Connor, and Charlie are up to. Just how do they plan to revive the Monroe Republic? And what will Charlie do when she realizes that's what they're up to? (And which is the lesser evil: Patriots or Monroe?)
And Aaron and Priscilla have gone to Lubbock, as directed by the nanotech. Would kind of suck if the nanos were just jerking them around . . . But it would be funny in a way, too. Ha! If the nanos had developed a sense of humor? But no, they've sent A&P (har) to where their fellow programmer Peter has taken up residence. And how clever of the writers to give Peter that biblical name, the "rock" upon which Christ built his church. Cuz that's what Peter does now: preaches and heals.
I find Aaron to be something of a drip, and Priscilla is a big, empty non-character at this point. But the Peter guy could be interesting. Someone who was never popular, now with the means to be popular, and perhaps also with a deep-seated faith driving him (it's thus far unclear how much he really believes and how much of it is him enjoying his moment) . . . I think we're about to go down the old road of showing how people who will not listen to reason—people with unswerving faith and set in their minds—are some of the most dangerous in the world. (I won't get into my personal beliefs here except to point you to a post I wrote on it a couple years back.)
Latest development is that Neville and Jason have been sent by President Davis to Willoughby to find and execute Monroe. And Neville agrees because Davis is holding Julia and will execute her if Neville fails. So off they go, and after a snarling match with Truman, Neville hits up Miles and Rachel and says he wants their help against the Patriots. We all know this is not true; Neville's priority has always been Julia. So it's safe to assume he's playing on Miles to get at where Monroe is. Which, as it turns out, is New Vegas (with Bret Michaels and the mummified remains of Steven Tyler), but Miles hasn't told Neville that. Yet.
The show isn't back until late February as NBC pauses for the Olympics. There is potential in some of what is going on, but the lack of character development is disturbing. The writers seem focused more on plot points than anything really interesting with the characters themselves. Even in emotional situations, the characters don't change at all. Monroe found his son! Yet he's the same old Monroe. Aaron can control nanotech! But he's still an anxious schlub. It's not clear whether Revolution will see a third season, but if it does, the writers need to work on character as well as plot. If you can't make them likable, at least make them interesting.
1.28.2014
Television: Intelligence, "Secrets of the Secret Service"
So a couple of American "journalists" get captured in Syria and are accused of being spies. We know right off the bat that they probably aren't journalists. How? Well, for one thing, it won't take a whole hour for Gabriel to break them free, so there has to be more to the story. For another, the way the woman (Emily) behaves suggests there's something else going on. (The poor guy cast as the male journalist doesn't even get any lines; he just hangs there, and later just lies there, and then we find out he dies. Geez, why even have him? But I guess a credit is a credit.)
A former president—the one to sign off on Project Clockwork, in fact—goes to Syria Clinton-style to negotiate for the journalists' release. But the real plan is to have Gabriel, and by extension Riley, break the journalists out. Gabriel and Riley are attached to the FP's (can't remember his name) Secret Service detail. Riley is right at home, since this was what she used to do. And of course Gabriel is amused at seeing Riley interact with old friends/flames . . .
It strikes me that Josh Holloway is pretty much doing his Sawyer thing, only less heavily. Gabriel is Sawyer Lite. That's not a criticism. This isn't a bad thing. In fact, I find Gabriel far more tolerable than I ever did Sawyer. And so his needling of Riley is more fun than the way he used to needle Kate.
Anyway, of course Gabriel gets into where the journalists are being held, only to be told by Emily that they are actually CIA and unless Gabriel rescues their target—an American scientist who has something to do with missile guidance systems—they (the journalists) will not go with Gabriel. The logic being that if the CIA agents break out, the scientist will be moved and they'll lose track of her. Emily tells Gabriel where to find this scientist, and that it's a woman, but that's all they know.
Except, of course, Gabriel knows everything. So he's able to figure out who the scientist is, and they find her at a marketplace and are all set to take her home to America when we go the Not Without My Daughter route and have to stop to pick the little girl up from school.
So they have the scientist, they have her daughter, they're headed back to the FP's plane, and the FP and his retinue meet them there. Done?
Nope, Gabriel insists on going back for the CIA peeps. And here is where we get a little bit of a shoot out and discover the male agent has died. But Gabriel and Friends rescue Emily at least and get her on the plane.
And then HQ (Lillian & the Cassidys . . . sounds like a band . . .) discover Emily's mission was not to extract the American scientist but to kill her. So Gabriel and Riley and that other Secret Service guy that Riley used to work with must stop Emily mid-air. Really? Did they just need to fill the hour? Or is this some kind of commentary about how we are sometimes our own enemy, killing our own, etc.
B and C plots for the episode include the aforementioned Gabriel working out the relationship between Riley and that other Secret Service guy (something to do with Panama, but I wasn't paying that close attention) and Lillian continuing to struggle against bureaucracy. The episode ends with Lillian and Clockwork being put under closer scrutiny because the current president is concerned Gabriel might, you know, start thinking for himself and making decisions instead of just doing what he's told.
It's a shame this show is likely to be cancelled; it's actually pretty good by network standards. I think the 10:00 timeslot works against them a bit because (for me at least) I have to make a conscious decision as to whether I'm willing to stay up late and watch or if I'll just save it for later. So far, I've stayed up to watch Intelligence. But really, it's not a show I feel I have to see when it airs. It'll keep.
Shows should have short shelf lives. They should be the kind of thing that won't keep. That's hard to do these days, what with DVRs and all.
As for me, a lot of the shows I watch because they're on and I'm home. Appointment viewing? True Detective . . . And I try not to miss Elementary. Broadchurch when it was on was definitely appointment viewing for me, and Game of Thrones . . . And I look forward to Community every week, though I wouldn't cry if I had to postpone viewing. Those are the majors. What does that tell us? Well, mostly that a compelling through story is the key to getting people to come back, day of, and watch. They can't wait to see what happens next. And they don't want it to be spoiled for them online, so they have to watch NOW to be part of the conversation. Take that as a guide, television writers and producers. Every time you end a story line, be sure to have a new one going. Never completely satisfy them. Always leave 'em wanting more.
A former president—the one to sign off on Project Clockwork, in fact—goes to Syria Clinton-style to negotiate for the journalists' release. But the real plan is to have Gabriel, and by extension Riley, break the journalists out. Gabriel and Riley are attached to the FP's (can't remember his name) Secret Service detail. Riley is right at home, since this was what she used to do. And of course Gabriel is amused at seeing Riley interact with old friends/flames . . .
It strikes me that Josh Holloway is pretty much doing his Sawyer thing, only less heavily. Gabriel is Sawyer Lite. That's not a criticism. This isn't a bad thing. In fact, I find Gabriel far more tolerable than I ever did Sawyer. And so his needling of Riley is more fun than the way he used to needle Kate.
Anyway, of course Gabriel gets into where the journalists are being held, only to be told by Emily that they are actually CIA and unless Gabriel rescues their target—an American scientist who has something to do with missile guidance systems—they (the journalists) will not go with Gabriel. The logic being that if the CIA agents break out, the scientist will be moved and they'll lose track of her. Emily tells Gabriel where to find this scientist, and that it's a woman, but that's all they know.
Except, of course, Gabriel knows everything. So he's able to figure out who the scientist is, and they find her at a marketplace and are all set to take her home to America when we go the Not Without My Daughter route and have to stop to pick the little girl up from school.
So they have the scientist, they have her daughter, they're headed back to the FP's plane, and the FP and his retinue meet them there. Done?
Nope, Gabriel insists on going back for the CIA peeps. And here is where we get a little bit of a shoot out and discover the male agent has died. But Gabriel and Friends rescue Emily at least and get her on the plane.
And then HQ (Lillian & the Cassidys . . . sounds like a band . . .) discover Emily's mission was not to extract the American scientist but to kill her. So Gabriel and Riley and that other Secret Service guy that Riley used to work with must stop Emily mid-air. Really? Did they just need to fill the hour? Or is this some kind of commentary about how we are sometimes our own enemy, killing our own, etc.
B and C plots for the episode include the aforementioned Gabriel working out the relationship between Riley and that other Secret Service guy (something to do with Panama, but I wasn't paying that close attention) and Lillian continuing to struggle against bureaucracy. The episode ends with Lillian and Clockwork being put under closer scrutiny because the current president is concerned Gabriel might, you know, start thinking for himself and making decisions instead of just doing what he's told.
It's a shame this show is likely to be cancelled; it's actually pretty good by network standards. I think the 10:00 timeslot works against them a bit because (for me at least) I have to make a conscious decision as to whether I'm willing to stay up late and watch or if I'll just save it for later. So far, I've stayed up to watch Intelligence. But really, it's not a show I feel I have to see when it airs. It'll keep.
Shows should have short shelf lives. They should be the kind of thing that won't keep. That's hard to do these days, what with DVRs and all.
As for me, a lot of the shows I watch because they're on and I'm home. Appointment viewing? True Detective . . . And I try not to miss Elementary. Broadchurch when it was on was definitely appointment viewing for me, and Game of Thrones . . . And I look forward to Community every week, though I wouldn't cry if I had to postpone viewing. Those are the majors. What does that tell us? Well, mostly that a compelling through story is the key to getting people to come back, day of, and watch. They can't wait to see what happens next. And they don't want it to be spoiled for them online, so they have to watch NOW to be part of the conversation. Take that as a guide, television writers and producers. Every time you end a story line, be sure to have a new one going. Never completely satisfy them. Always leave 'em wanting more.
1.27.2014
Television, Sherlock, "The Sign of Three"
I wrote a few thoughts down when I first watched this episode a few weeks ago. Those can be found here:
Initial Thoughts
Additional Thoughts
Watching it again, it was only slightly more tolerable. And I'm wondering, did they cut the fart joke from the American broadcast? Or maybe I just missed it, since my attention was wandering.
I understand the idea—the necessity, really—of intercutting the flashbacks into the wedding, but it really made the best man speech seem interminably long. And the whole story falls apart once we get the stag-night-turned-ghost-hunt. How can they have Mycroft nay saying coincidence when it is mere coincidence that Sherlock chose the Bainbridge story as part of his speech? And even inebriated, I find it hard to believe Sherlock would miss the use of John's middle name (particularly as he worked so hard to discover it himself)—AND then, when sober again, also miss a random reference to the wedding . . . I know he's not infallible, but it seems they only make him dense when it suits the story. There is a lack of consistency in the characters overall in Series 3. And a push to better define Sherlock's relationship with Mycroft. After all, in Doyle's stories, Sherlock readily tells Watson that Mycroft is the smarter one. There is no seeming animosity in Doyle's version, however; the brothers enjoy a friendly rivalry. Here the writers go for something slightly darker. Perhaps Mycroft's lifelong ability to control his little brother and exercise full influence over him has begun to slip in the face of Sherlock having made other friends. You have two brothers without intellectual peer . . . And then one "lowers" himself in the eyes of the other by hanging around with other, more average people . . . I dunno. Whatever.
Well, no, here: You have Mycroft, secure in his intellectual superiority. But he's spent a fair amount of time telling Sherlock he's not that bright. Smarter than others, sure, but not as smart as Mycroft himself. ("We had nothing else to go on.") Fine. So when Sherlock decides that maybe he can find a place for himself in the crowd of others who are less brilliant than Mycroft—well, it's one thing in common with the world, anyway—Mycroft takes it badly. Because Sherlock is the closest thing Mycroft has to, well, his own company. Which is what Mycroft really prefers. It's lonely at the top. And one gets tired of talking to oneself . . . Or having to speak slowly to everyone else.
Anyway. I'll admit I missed Mrs. Hudson's, "Who leaves a wedding early?" bit the first time, so catching it this time was nice. Because of course, Sherlock leaves a wedding early. Poor form for the best man, though.
On the whole, this one is just weak. The plot, the execution . . . It's really pretty sloppy. It has its moments, and it lays the groundwork for "His Last Vow," but on its own (for reasons laid out in my previous posts linked at the top), "The Sign of Three" stands as somewhat hollow.
Initial Thoughts
Additional Thoughts
Watching it again, it was only slightly more tolerable. And I'm wondering, did they cut the fart joke from the American broadcast? Or maybe I just missed it, since my attention was wandering.
I understand the idea—the necessity, really—of intercutting the flashbacks into the wedding, but it really made the best man speech seem interminably long. And the whole story falls apart once we get the stag-night-turned-ghost-hunt. How can they have Mycroft nay saying coincidence when it is mere coincidence that Sherlock chose the Bainbridge story as part of his speech? And even inebriated, I find it hard to believe Sherlock would miss the use of John's middle name (particularly as he worked so hard to discover it himself)—AND then, when sober again, also miss a random reference to the wedding . . . I know he's not infallible, but it seems they only make him dense when it suits the story. There is a lack of consistency in the characters overall in Series 3. And a push to better define Sherlock's relationship with Mycroft. After all, in Doyle's stories, Sherlock readily tells Watson that Mycroft is the smarter one. There is no seeming animosity in Doyle's version, however; the brothers enjoy a friendly rivalry. Here the writers go for something slightly darker. Perhaps Mycroft's lifelong ability to control his little brother and exercise full influence over him has begun to slip in the face of Sherlock having made other friends. You have two brothers without intellectual peer . . . And then one "lowers" himself in the eyes of the other by hanging around with other, more average people . . . I dunno. Whatever.
Well, no, here: You have Mycroft, secure in his intellectual superiority. But he's spent a fair amount of time telling Sherlock he's not that bright. Smarter than others, sure, but not as smart as Mycroft himself. ("We had nothing else to go on.") Fine. So when Sherlock decides that maybe he can find a place for himself in the crowd of others who are less brilliant than Mycroft—well, it's one thing in common with the world, anyway—Mycroft takes it badly. Because Sherlock is the closest thing Mycroft has to, well, his own company. Which is what Mycroft really prefers. It's lonely at the top. And one gets tired of talking to oneself . . . Or having to speak slowly to everyone else.
Anyway. I'll admit I missed Mrs. Hudson's, "Who leaves a wedding early?" bit the first time, so catching it this time was nice. Because of course, Sherlock leaves a wedding early. Poor form for the best man, though.
On the whole, this one is just weak. The plot, the execution . . . It's really pretty sloppy. It has its moments, and it lays the groundwork for "His Last Vow," but on its own (for reasons laid out in my previous posts linked at the top), "The Sign of Three" stands as somewhat hollow.
Television: True Detective, "The Locked Room"
. . . In which significant progress is made as Rust and Marty track the murderer of a prostitute. Rust is convinced the killer has done this kind of thing before and finds evidence for it after looking through scores of dead body photos. He lights on a supposed flood victim (shout out to Abbeville, where my father grew up) whose body shows similar lacerations and the same spiral design as the prostitute's.
Rust Cohle is, of course, the most interesting figure here. His name alone suggests (a) the slow transmutation of something from one solid, cohesive and useful state to something that has been eaten away and is no longer stable, and (b) darkness, a pollutant, something pulled from the earth, mined under harsh conditions. My fear is that they're aiming to have Cohle be the suspect in the more recent murder, which would be a shame since that would be a very predictable direction to take things.
The contrast between Marty and Rust is stark and adds wonderful tension. Marty has a family, is at least moderately rooted in a belief system as well as the community, and yet is decidedly less likable than Rust, who floats untethered . . . A man without anchor is dangerous to himself and sometimes to society at large. Rust needs a touchstone and finds it in visiting Marty's family while Marty is busy with his mistress. Yet Rust also rejects other resources that might keep him grounded (as in dates and other human connections); perhaps he feels he does his best work from up in the ether.
Still, being "above it all" may give Rust the big picture, but it also gives him a superiority complex. And one wonders if it's sustainable. What will happen when he runs out of oxygen out there?
As for the mystery itself, it is engaging mostly for the way it paints the characters involved in solving it. You hear people in law enforcement talk about the big cases, the ones that made or broke men, and this has the feel of one of those. The kind of thing that draws lines and defines a person. After striking out at a local tent revival, Rust and Marty discover a suspect with links to both the prostitute and the girl in Abbeville, and the last thing we see in this episode is what one supposes is that suspect, all but naked and wearing a gas mask and carrying a machete. There's the promise of some kind of stand off coming, but we'll have to wait another week to know for sure.
True Detective is currently one of the best things on television, one of the few shows I refuse to miss. I understand that each season will have a different cast, a different story, and I hope that works out for them, that they can keep up the tremendous work. At least for this season, it is amazing. Blows any- and everything else out of the water. Your move, Broadchurch/Gracepoint. (That's probably not fair since they have to stick to network regulations. But still.)
I mentioned Stephen Dobyns some posts ago, and his Cemetery Nights has a poem: "To Pull Into Oneself as Into a Locked Room." Dobyns' work and True Detective do go together nicely.
Rust Cohle is, of course, the most interesting figure here. His name alone suggests (a) the slow transmutation of something from one solid, cohesive and useful state to something that has been eaten away and is no longer stable, and (b) darkness, a pollutant, something pulled from the earth, mined under harsh conditions. My fear is that they're aiming to have Cohle be the suspect in the more recent murder, which would be a shame since that would be a very predictable direction to take things.
The contrast between Marty and Rust is stark and adds wonderful tension. Marty has a family, is at least moderately rooted in a belief system as well as the community, and yet is decidedly less likable than Rust, who floats untethered . . . A man without anchor is dangerous to himself and sometimes to society at large. Rust needs a touchstone and finds it in visiting Marty's family while Marty is busy with his mistress. Yet Rust also rejects other resources that might keep him grounded (as in dates and other human connections); perhaps he feels he does his best work from up in the ether.
Still, being "above it all" may give Rust the big picture, but it also gives him a superiority complex. And one wonders if it's sustainable. What will happen when he runs out of oxygen out there?
As for the mystery itself, it is engaging mostly for the way it paints the characters involved in solving it. You hear people in law enforcement talk about the big cases, the ones that made or broke men, and this has the feel of one of those. The kind of thing that draws lines and defines a person. After striking out at a local tent revival, Rust and Marty discover a suspect with links to both the prostitute and the girl in Abbeville, and the last thing we see in this episode is what one supposes is that suspect, all but naked and wearing a gas mask and carrying a machete. There's the promise of some kind of stand off coming, but we'll have to wait another week to know for sure.
True Detective is currently one of the best things on television, one of the few shows I refuse to miss. I understand that each season will have a different cast, a different story, and I hope that works out for them, that they can keep up the tremendous work. At least for this season, it is amazing. Blows any- and everything else out of the water. Your move, Broadchurch/Gracepoint. (That's probably not fair since they have to stick to network regulations. But still.)
I mentioned Stephen Dobyns some posts ago, and his Cemetery Nights has a poem: "To Pull Into Oneself as Into a Locked Room." Dobyns' work and True Detective do go together nicely.
1.25.2014
Books: The Wisdom of Psychopaths by Kevin Dutton
One of my secondary concentrations as an undergrad was psychology. I enjoy this aspect of people—that is, the way they think, their motivations and such—I find it interesting. And Dutton writes in a way that's not so over the head of an average reader. He makes the information accessible.
I'd go into the various points Dutton makes, but that's what the book is for. The subtitle of the book (which I felt was too long to include in the title of this post) is What Saints, Spies, and Serial Killers Can Teach Us About Success. The saint bit isn't very strong in the book, and it's mostly toward the end. The spies thing . . . Well, think about it: Is James Bond a psychopath? Probably. In that line of work, most people are, have to be to stay cool under pressure. So a big chunk of the book talks about that, and about how soldiers (Special Forces in particular) must be psychopaths, too. Or maybe it's just that psychopaths are drawn to that kind of work and are good at it. Chicken, egg.
Here's what I think divides the saints from the serial killers. And I say this as someone who comes in at 15 on the PPI, which is about halfway to clinical psychopathy. If psychopaths are motivated by reward—and who isn't, really, in life? look at how we tempt our kids with promises of a cookie if they eat their veggies—and if reward is, in fact, their primary focus . . . Psychopaths zero in on what they want, more so even than the average person. They're looking for the high they get from whatever gives them pleasure. And that high doesn't last long, so they go after the next thing, and the next thing, and the next thing. A steady sort of mainlining, really. They need the stimulation.
So here's what makes the difference. Take someone like me: I get high from helping people. I don't do it because I'm a "good person," I do it because I'm selfish and I like the feeling I get when I help a tourist find where they need to go or rescue a stray animal. That's my "hit." That's where I get satisfaction. If I got the same feeling from shoving people in front of cars, well, I'd probably do that instead. Lucky for me and the world, I guess, that that's not the case. (I did shove someone in front of a car once, but I was five and he'd kissed me and given me chicken pox, so he deserved it. And anyway, the car turned down another street before it got as far as where we were standing. Long story short: I get no satisfaction from shoving people in front of cars. Lesson learned.)
But then there are the psychopaths who derive pleasure and rewards from hurting people. These are your Ted Bundy types. They have the same primary motivation: to get that high feeling. Unfortunately, they way they get high is, er . . . Yeah. That.
Look at Sherlock Holmes, for instance. He always said he'd make a good criminal if he'd turned in that direction. I suppose it's lucky for Scotland Yard that Holmes's high came from nabbing the bad guys rather than joining them. (That and the cocaine when he was bored. Psychopaths are terrible when they're bored.)
Now, whether the divide is nature or nurture, who knows? A little of both, I imagine. I grew up in a happy enough home. Was a bit of a bully to some of my friends, though. But somewhere down the line I got that out of my system. What changed? Well, it seemed to happen when we moved, so there's an environmental factor, I suppose. I dunno. It's interesting to think about though.
All this isn't telling you much about the book, is it? Well, it's a good one if you like this sort of thing. As I said, easy enough to read. Lots of anecdotes and various studies. A visit to Broadmoor. If you ever wanted to hear from a psychopath but were afraid to get close enough, Dutton does it for you. An interesting read.
I'd go into the various points Dutton makes, but that's what the book is for. The subtitle of the book (which I felt was too long to include in the title of this post) is What Saints, Spies, and Serial Killers Can Teach Us About Success. The saint bit isn't very strong in the book, and it's mostly toward the end. The spies thing . . . Well, think about it: Is James Bond a psychopath? Probably. In that line of work, most people are, have to be to stay cool under pressure. So a big chunk of the book talks about that, and about how soldiers (Special Forces in particular) must be psychopaths, too. Or maybe it's just that psychopaths are drawn to that kind of work and are good at it. Chicken, egg.
Here's what I think divides the saints from the serial killers. And I say this as someone who comes in at 15 on the PPI, which is about halfway to clinical psychopathy. If psychopaths are motivated by reward—and who isn't, really, in life? look at how we tempt our kids with promises of a cookie if they eat their veggies—and if reward is, in fact, their primary focus . . . Psychopaths zero in on what they want, more so even than the average person. They're looking for the high they get from whatever gives them pleasure. And that high doesn't last long, so they go after the next thing, and the next thing, and the next thing. A steady sort of mainlining, really. They need the stimulation.
So here's what makes the difference. Take someone like me: I get high from helping people. I don't do it because I'm a "good person," I do it because I'm selfish and I like the feeling I get when I help a tourist find where they need to go or rescue a stray animal. That's my "hit." That's where I get satisfaction. If I got the same feeling from shoving people in front of cars, well, I'd probably do that instead. Lucky for me and the world, I guess, that that's not the case. (I did shove someone in front of a car once, but I was five and he'd kissed me and given me chicken pox, so he deserved it. And anyway, the car turned down another street before it got as far as where we were standing. Long story short: I get no satisfaction from shoving people in front of cars. Lesson learned.)
But then there are the psychopaths who derive pleasure and rewards from hurting people. These are your Ted Bundy types. They have the same primary motivation: to get that high feeling. Unfortunately, they way they get high is, er . . . Yeah. That.
Look at Sherlock Holmes, for instance. He always said he'd make a good criminal if he'd turned in that direction. I suppose it's lucky for Scotland Yard that Holmes's high came from nabbing the bad guys rather than joining them. (That and the cocaine when he was bored. Psychopaths are terrible when they're bored.)
Now, whether the divide is nature or nurture, who knows? A little of both, I imagine. I grew up in a happy enough home. Was a bit of a bully to some of my friends, though. But somewhere down the line I got that out of my system. What changed? Well, it seemed to happen when we moved, so there's an environmental factor, I suppose. I dunno. It's interesting to think about though.
All this isn't telling you much about the book, is it? Well, it's a good one if you like this sort of thing. As I said, easy enough to read. Lots of anecdotes and various studies. A visit to Broadmoor. If you ever wanted to hear from a psychopath but were afraid to get close enough, Dutton does it for you. An interesting read.
1.22.2014
Television: AHS: Coven, "Go to Hell"
I thoroughly enjoyed the faux silent movie start to the episode, which explained the Seven Wonders a witch must perform in order to become the Supreme.
Despite her self-mutilation, it seems Cordelia's ability to see things when she touches them has not returned. Meanwhile, Fiona tells Queenie she (that is, Queenie) must attempt the Seven Wonders to see if she is the next Supreme. Queenie goes to lie down and has a vision of being back in the fast food restaurant, where she's visited by Papa Legba. Turns out fast food service is hell. That's one of the Seven Wonders down (descending into Hell and returning).
LaLaurie dismembers Laveau . . . And becomes a tour guide at the LaLaurie house? (Did I see that right?) Queenie goes to visit her at the LaLaurie House and asks her to release the previous tour guide LaLaurie has hit over the head and tied up in the attic. (Geez, she needs some new moves.) When LaLaurie refuses to repent, Queenie kills her. Because apparently now that's possible.
Fiona is having her portrait painted. Her nose starts bleeding. And she tries to make nice with Cordelia by giving Cordelia an old family heirloom necklace. But after putting it on, Cordelia does begin to have visions. This time of the future, which features the house filled with dead witches . . . All except Fiona. Who, based on the vision, seems to have been the one to kill them all.
Cordelia goes to see the Axeman, tells him that Fiona is going to leave him behind. Tells him Fiona has a plane ticket scheduled for two days hence.
And Cordelia also gets a vision of Misty's whereabouts and brings Queenie out to the cemetery in the dead of night in order to pull the coffin from the above-ground monument in which Madison had her sealed.
Zoe and Kyle return from Florida, and Zoe declares herself to be the next Supreme. Misty comes back to the house and fights Madison. And the Axeman enters swinging his axe, but the witches use collective powers to stop him. And discover he's covered in Fiona's blood.
(Flashback to Axeman killing Fiona. Really long and boring. Sum total: He fed Fiona's body to the gators in the swamp.)
The witches gang up on Axeman and stab him repeatedly.
LaLaurie's hell is to be locked up in her own attic and left to the "mercy" of Laveau, who tortures LaLaurie's daughter—and that is Laveau's hell.
And with Fiona gone, the coven now needs to discern who will take her place. So all the girls must participate in the Seven Wonders to see who will be the next Supreme. Really? This whole season comes down to the equivalent of a teen witch reality competition? Meh.
I have to say, overall this season has been disappointing. The attempt to tie up certain story lines this week felt rushed, as if the writers went, "Oh shit! We need to . . ." They tried to do too much this season, and so did none of it very well because the energies were so scattered. I'll actually just be glad to see this end next week so we can put it behind us and hope for something better next go 'round.
Despite her self-mutilation, it seems Cordelia's ability to see things when she touches them has not returned. Meanwhile, Fiona tells Queenie she (that is, Queenie) must attempt the Seven Wonders to see if she is the next Supreme. Queenie goes to lie down and has a vision of being back in the fast food restaurant, where she's visited by Papa Legba. Turns out fast food service is hell. That's one of the Seven Wonders down (descending into Hell and returning).
LaLaurie dismembers Laveau . . . And becomes a tour guide at the LaLaurie house? (Did I see that right?) Queenie goes to visit her at the LaLaurie House and asks her to release the previous tour guide LaLaurie has hit over the head and tied up in the attic. (Geez, she needs some new moves.) When LaLaurie refuses to repent, Queenie kills her. Because apparently now that's possible.
Fiona is having her portrait painted. Her nose starts bleeding. And she tries to make nice with Cordelia by giving Cordelia an old family heirloom necklace. But after putting it on, Cordelia does begin to have visions. This time of the future, which features the house filled with dead witches . . . All except Fiona. Who, based on the vision, seems to have been the one to kill them all.
Cordelia goes to see the Axeman, tells him that Fiona is going to leave him behind. Tells him Fiona has a plane ticket scheduled for two days hence.
And Cordelia also gets a vision of Misty's whereabouts and brings Queenie out to the cemetery in the dead of night in order to pull the coffin from the above-ground monument in which Madison had her sealed.
Zoe and Kyle return from Florida, and Zoe declares herself to be the next Supreme. Misty comes back to the house and fights Madison. And the Axeman enters swinging his axe, but the witches use collective powers to stop him. And discover he's covered in Fiona's blood.
(Flashback to Axeman killing Fiona. Really long and boring. Sum total: He fed Fiona's body to the gators in the swamp.)
The witches gang up on Axeman and stab him repeatedly.
LaLaurie's hell is to be locked up in her own attic and left to the "mercy" of Laveau, who tortures LaLaurie's daughter—and that is Laveau's hell.
And with Fiona gone, the coven now needs to discern who will take her place. So all the girls must participate in the Seven Wonders to see who will be the next Supreme. Really? This whole season comes down to the equivalent of a teen witch reality competition? Meh.
I have to say, overall this season has been disappointing. The attempt to tie up certain story lines this week felt rushed, as if the writers went, "Oh shit! We need to . . ." They tried to do too much this season, and so did none of it very well because the energies were so scattered. I'll actually just be glad to see this end next week so we can put it behind us and hope for something better next go 'round.
Television: Revolution, "Captain Trips"
More Stephen King references. Yay.
I'm finding it increasingly difficult to care about anything that's going on in this show. What we've devolved into is a series of raids and missions, all of them very much alike. Someone is being held somewhere; we must go get him/her! There are some supplies locked up somewhere; we must break in and get them! Alternatively, we are stuck somewhere; we must fight our ways out!
::yawn::
This week Gene and Charlie were in the Patriots' camp that is a kind of triage for people suffering an outbreak of typhus. Except we know from having seen the oranges being injected that this "outbreak" has been manufactured. That was a real shame on the part of the writers because Rachel's revelation in this episode had no impact—the viewers already knew.
So anyway, Rachel goes down to the camp to help Gene and Charlie manage the patients, and then they discover the Patriots did it to their own people in order to cull the invalids and mentally ill. So then, of course, Miles and Monroe and Connor are tapped to go find the antidote the Patriots are surely storing somewhere. Except the antidote is not where Gene thinks. (Oh, and Gene gets the typhus too.)
So they inject Truman (Steven Culp) with the typhus in order toforce motivate him to take them to the antidote. Which he does, only to have a bunch of Patriots bust in with guns. And that's where we leave that.
Meanwhile, Neville and the missus are trying to figure out where Jason has been dragged off to in the wake of his having broken into the Chief of Staff's office. But he knows the truth . . . And we end up here with another standoff, guns pointed at Neville and Julia.
As for Aaron. He's still in Spring City, Oklahoma. Grace has left. Priscilla tries to leave but the nanotech won't let her (after taking the shape of Cynthia in order to try and convince Aaron to go to Lubbock). And still no sign of a big ball of twine. What an utter letdown.
I'm finding it increasingly difficult to care about anything that's going on in this show. What we've devolved into is a series of raids and missions, all of them very much alike. Someone is being held somewhere; we must go get him/her! There are some supplies locked up somewhere; we must break in and get them! Alternatively, we are stuck somewhere; we must fight our ways out!
::yawn::
This week Gene and Charlie were in the Patriots' camp that is a kind of triage for people suffering an outbreak of typhus. Except we know from having seen the oranges being injected that this "outbreak" has been manufactured. That was a real shame on the part of the writers because Rachel's revelation in this episode had no impact—the viewers already knew.
So anyway, Rachel goes down to the camp to help Gene and Charlie manage the patients, and then they discover the Patriots did it to their own people in order to cull the invalids and mentally ill. So then, of course, Miles and Monroe and Connor are tapped to go find the antidote the Patriots are surely storing somewhere. Except the antidote is not where Gene thinks. (Oh, and Gene gets the typhus too.)
So they inject Truman (Steven Culp) with the typhus in order to
Meanwhile, Neville and the missus are trying to figure out where Jason has been dragged off to in the wake of his having broken into the Chief of Staff's office. But he knows the truth . . . And we end up here with another standoff, guns pointed at Neville and Julia.
As for Aaron. He's still in Spring City, Oklahoma. Grace has left. Priscilla tries to leave but the nanotech won't let her (after taking the shape of Cynthia in order to try and convince Aaron to go to Lubbock). And still no sign of a big ball of twine. What an utter letdown.
1.20.2014
Television: Intelligence, "Mei Chen Returns"
So in the pilot, the Chinese created another super-intelligent agent à la Gabriel. Her name is Mei Chen. At first it had seemed the attempt had failed, but . . .
Kate Anderson, a London-based CIA analyst with a hard drive filled with sensitive information, meets with an MI6 agent. The MI6 agent is killed; Anderson goes to the Chinese Embassy. Now Lillian is tasked with finding Anderson. Oh, and btw, Gabriel is "missing." (Read: out drinking in Mexico as he mourns the loss of Amelia.)
Of course then some Mexicans come to pick on him. He handily beats them up and finds somewhere else to drink until Riley finds him and drags him home.
"Something's wrong with my chip," Gabriel confides. He thinks someone is "watching" him from inside his head. In fact, he thinks it may be Amelia, "accessing" from another plane. Cassidy doesn't want Gabriel to render the scene of the MI6 agent's murder until they're sure what's going on, but Lillian insists. Time is, as ever, of the essence.
Why did they need Gabriel to put two and two together in figuring out Anderson went to the Chinese Embassy? They had the audio and access to the same video cameras. Are they really that bad at their jobs?
But in the render, Gabriel does discover Mei Chen is out there sporting a chip like his.
And Mei Chen goes and kills one of the Chinese Embassy workers so as to take her place.
Meanwhile, Gabriel and Riley are off to London. On the flight, Gabriel gets hacked by Mei Chen and pulls a gun on Riley, forcing Riley to hit him.
Turns out Anderson's drive has info about Gabriel on it; the CIA has been spying on the Clockwork project.
Complication: the "hard drive" Anderson has might not be a hard drive so much as a microdot—liquid data. Difficult to locate.
Mei Chen infiltrates the Chinese Embassy and grabs Anderson as Gabriel and Riley arrive. The drive is on Anderson's contact lens. Mei Chen downloads the info and is on the verge of killing Anderson when Gabriel and Riley step in. Though they stop her from killing Anderson, they fail to prevent her escape. So now Mei Chen is the only one with the data; she destroyed the contact lens and overloaded the computers.
The plan: to lure Mei Chen into one of Gabriel's renders and launch some kind of attack. Mei Chen tries to convince Gabriel they are a new species, an Adam and Eve. But Gabriel rejects and ejects her from his mind. (And it seems they are able to erase the stolen data from Mei Chen's mind while they're at it.)
Um . . . Okay. It's nice they're setting up an antagonist for Gabriel that is "on his level," but Mei Chen's character was not convincing as such. If she was meant to be sultry, she wasn't. Alluring, interesting? Nope. On the whole a failed attempt. Better luck next week.
Kate Anderson, a London-based CIA analyst with a hard drive filled with sensitive information, meets with an MI6 agent. The MI6 agent is killed; Anderson goes to the Chinese Embassy. Now Lillian is tasked with finding Anderson. Oh, and btw, Gabriel is "missing." (Read: out drinking in Mexico as he mourns the loss of Amelia.)
Of course then some Mexicans come to pick on him. He handily beats them up and finds somewhere else to drink until Riley finds him and drags him home.
"Something's wrong with my chip," Gabriel confides. He thinks someone is "watching" him from inside his head. In fact, he thinks it may be Amelia, "accessing" from another plane. Cassidy doesn't want Gabriel to render the scene of the MI6 agent's murder until they're sure what's going on, but Lillian insists. Time is, as ever, of the essence.
Why did they need Gabriel to put two and two together in figuring out Anderson went to the Chinese Embassy? They had the audio and access to the same video cameras. Are they really that bad at their jobs?
But in the render, Gabriel does discover Mei Chen is out there sporting a chip like his.
And Mei Chen goes and kills one of the Chinese Embassy workers so as to take her place.
Meanwhile, Gabriel and Riley are off to London. On the flight, Gabriel gets hacked by Mei Chen and pulls a gun on Riley, forcing Riley to hit him.
Turns out Anderson's drive has info about Gabriel on it; the CIA has been spying on the Clockwork project.
Complication: the "hard drive" Anderson has might not be a hard drive so much as a microdot—liquid data. Difficult to locate.
Mei Chen infiltrates the Chinese Embassy and grabs Anderson as Gabriel and Riley arrive. The drive is on Anderson's contact lens. Mei Chen downloads the info and is on the verge of killing Anderson when Gabriel and Riley step in. Though they stop her from killing Anderson, they fail to prevent her escape. So now Mei Chen is the only one with the data; she destroyed the contact lens and overloaded the computers.
The plan: to lure Mei Chen into one of Gabriel's renders and launch some kind of attack. Mei Chen tries to convince Gabriel they are a new species, an Adam and Eve. But Gabriel rejects and ejects her from his mind. (And it seems they are able to erase the stolen data from Mei Chen's mind while they're at it.)
Um . . . Okay. It's nice they're setting up an antagonist for Gabriel that is "on his level," but Mei Chen's character was not convincing as such. If she was meant to be sultry, she wasn't. Alluring, interesting? Nope. On the whole a failed attempt. Better luck next week.
Television: Sleepy Hollow, "The Indespinsible Man; Bad Blood"
Crane v Autocorrect . . .
Also v emoticons . . .
Now what's so important about December 18, 1799? Lazarus? Considering Washington died on the 14th . . .
Brooks comes back to visit Abbie and tells her it is prophesied that Crane will give her up to Moloch. Also, he tells Abbie he loves her. Awkward.
Oh, also Brooks says the bible contains a map that Moloch wants. (A map with no names? Oh, no, wait. Too much Indiana Jones as a child.)
Crane discovers a hidden letter in the bible from Washington to himself that demonstrates Washington knew Crane was a witness, and also describes how Washington had himself resurrected after his own death. And then made a map of Purgatory. Which gives Crane the brilliant idea that, if he can find this map, he can free Katrina.
God, what this show doesn't need is more Katrina.
They exhume Reverend Knapp who had been keeping the Horseman's head safe and call Parrish (the Sin Eater) for help. Alas, Parrish is injured by a hex on the Knapp's body.
Meanwhile, Abbie begins to argue that Washington's plan may no longer be valid, that Washington may not have foreseen certain complications. Could releasing Katrina only make things worse? Might Purgatory release a lot of other, less pleasant things? What—or who—is Crane willing to sacrifice to save the world?
Still, they must find the map before Moloch (or Brooks). They figure out that it was likely buried with Washington, and that Washington must be buried near Sleepy Hollow in order for Knapp to have been able to protect the map.
And Brooks is reborn as some kind of demon.
Abbie asks Parrish about the prophesy that one witness might turn against the other. He tells her there is one in an apocryphal gospel (also: the witnesses will do their work for 1260 days).
They findthe Pyramid of Fear (nope, sorry, too much Sherlock Holmes as a child) a mausoleum (that does have a pyramid in it) and Washington's body and the map. And then Brooks crashes their party. Parrish touches him and returns Brooks to some semblance of his true self, so that he tells Abbie to destroy the map lest Moloch use it to win the war.
And Crane, at Abbie's behest, burns the map and promises not to forsake Abbie. But remember that photographic memory of his? Still, seems really stupid of Crane to redraw the map. Why not just keep it in his head, nice and safe?
Oh, and there was this whole other plot where Captain Irving confessed to having murdered that priest in order to protect his daughter. (Of course it was really the demon that had done it, but try explaining that to the investigators.)
At the episode break, Crane stumbles upon a Revolutionary War re-enactment. But he's called by Parrish who says he must see Crane and Abbie immediately. He's had a premonition about the second Horseman of the Apocalypse. On the 13th anniversary of the day Abbie and Jenny first encountered Moloch in the forest. Also, there's a solar eclipse coming. So, you know, pretty sure bad things are going to happen here.
Crane believes Katrina is the only one who can stop the second Horseman. The map shows a doorway to Purgatory. 1 + 1 = . . .
Jenny is not a fan of this plan. She's pretty sure Crane is going to throw Abbie over for Katrina as per the prophesy.
Parrish also has a list of cautions: don't eat or drink anything in Purgatory, don't believe what you're seeing even though it will all seem very real, don't get separated.
[Here is where I'd go into my lecture on liminal spaces, but I'll spare you. I have always found the mythological use of such spaces very interesting, however.]
First up: Purgatory tries to convince Abbie that Corbin and Brooks are alive and that she's just been hit on the head while away at Quantico and is now back and recovering. Meanwhile, Crane finds himself with Victor Garber! Apparently he's Crane's father. He had disowned Ichabod when Ichabod had turned to fight for the Colonists. But Purgatory is trying to make Crane believe England won the Revolutionary War and his father happily welcomed him home, back to Oxford as a professor.
In a Labyrinth-like moment, both Abbie and Crane shatter their visions by announcing they—the visions, the people—aren't real. (And for the record, I never want to see Victor Garber do that again.)
Abbie and Crane find one another and then Katrina. But Katrina cannot leave Purgatory unless (a) she is forgiven, or (b) someone takes her place. Since the Sin Eater didn't come along for the tour, Abbie takes Katrina's place. (Does seem Moloch keeps Katrina supplied with makeup, though.)
Meanwhile, Jenny has been listening to tape recordings from Corbin's archives, and after a field trip she discovers something that alarms her: the name of a church. But as she rushes to warn Abbie and Crane, the Headless Horseman turns up to blow out her tires. (Why not just kill her?)
In Purgatory, Abbie comes to a dollhouse that has teenage versions of herself and her sister. They say they are memories Moloch took from them on that fateful day 13 years ago. Abbie of course wants to know what she's forgotten . . .
Long story short: Henry Parrish is evil. Are we at all surprised by this?
What Abbie and Jenny saw was Moloch drawing Parrish from the earth as the second Horseman. And Henry Parrish isn't his real name. No, it's the name of a church—the church Katrina abandoned her son Jeremy to some 200 years before. Because Henry is Jeremy. (Remember how they'd buried him? Which begs the question: At what point after being buried 200 years before did adolescent Jeremy cease to age? Because clearly he did age . . . For a while . . . Or are they trying to pass John Noble off as 200+ years old?)
So now Abbie is in Purgatory and Henry/Jeremy first bound his parents to a couple trees so as to lecture them before putting Ichabod into a grave and placing the Second Seal over him.
But what did he do with Mommy?
If you want to find out, Sleepy Hollow returns in the fall . . .
Also v emoticons . . .
Now what's so important about December 18, 1799? Lazarus? Considering Washington died on the 14th . . .
Brooks comes back to visit Abbie and tells her it is prophesied that Crane will give her up to Moloch. Also, he tells Abbie he loves her. Awkward.
Oh, also Brooks says the bible contains a map that Moloch wants. (A map with no names? Oh, no, wait. Too much Indiana Jones as a child.)
Crane discovers a hidden letter in the bible from Washington to himself that demonstrates Washington knew Crane was a witness, and also describes how Washington had himself resurrected after his own death. And then made a map of Purgatory. Which gives Crane the brilliant idea that, if he can find this map, he can free Katrina.
God, what this show doesn't need is more Katrina.
They exhume Reverend Knapp who had been keeping the Horseman's head safe and call Parrish (the Sin Eater) for help. Alas, Parrish is injured by a hex on the Knapp's body.
Meanwhile, Abbie begins to argue that Washington's plan may no longer be valid, that Washington may not have foreseen certain complications. Could releasing Katrina only make things worse? Might Purgatory release a lot of other, less pleasant things? What—or who—is Crane willing to sacrifice to save the world?
Still, they must find the map before Moloch (or Brooks). They figure out that it was likely buried with Washington, and that Washington must be buried near Sleepy Hollow in order for Knapp to have been able to protect the map.
And Brooks is reborn as some kind of demon.
Abbie asks Parrish about the prophesy that one witness might turn against the other. He tells her there is one in an apocryphal gospel (also: the witnesses will do their work for 1260 days).
They find
And Crane, at Abbie's behest, burns the map and promises not to forsake Abbie. But remember that photographic memory of his? Still, seems really stupid of Crane to redraw the map. Why not just keep it in his head, nice and safe?
Oh, and there was this whole other plot where Captain Irving confessed to having murdered that priest in order to protect his daughter. (Of course it was really the demon that had done it, but try explaining that to the investigators.)
At the episode break, Crane stumbles upon a Revolutionary War re-enactment. But he's called by Parrish who says he must see Crane and Abbie immediately. He's had a premonition about the second Horseman of the Apocalypse. On the 13th anniversary of the day Abbie and Jenny first encountered Moloch in the forest. Also, there's a solar eclipse coming. So, you know, pretty sure bad things are going to happen here.
Crane believes Katrina is the only one who can stop the second Horseman. The map shows a doorway to Purgatory. 1 + 1 = . . .
Jenny is not a fan of this plan. She's pretty sure Crane is going to throw Abbie over for Katrina as per the prophesy.
Parrish also has a list of cautions: don't eat or drink anything in Purgatory, don't believe what you're seeing even though it will all seem very real, don't get separated.
[Here is where I'd go into my lecture on liminal spaces, but I'll spare you. I have always found the mythological use of such spaces very interesting, however.]
First up: Purgatory tries to convince Abbie that Corbin and Brooks are alive and that she's just been hit on the head while away at Quantico and is now back and recovering. Meanwhile, Crane finds himself with Victor Garber! Apparently he's Crane's father. He had disowned Ichabod when Ichabod had turned to fight for the Colonists. But Purgatory is trying to make Crane believe England won the Revolutionary War and his father happily welcomed him home, back to Oxford as a professor.
In a Labyrinth-like moment, both Abbie and Crane shatter their visions by announcing they—the visions, the people—aren't real. (And for the record, I never want to see Victor Garber do that again.)
Abbie and Crane find one another and then Katrina. But Katrina cannot leave Purgatory unless (a) she is forgiven, or (b) someone takes her place. Since the Sin Eater didn't come along for the tour, Abbie takes Katrina's place. (Does seem Moloch keeps Katrina supplied with makeup, though.)
Meanwhile, Jenny has been listening to tape recordings from Corbin's archives, and after a field trip she discovers something that alarms her: the name of a church. But as she rushes to warn Abbie and Crane, the Headless Horseman turns up to blow out her tires. (Why not just kill her?)
In Purgatory, Abbie comes to a dollhouse that has teenage versions of herself and her sister. They say they are memories Moloch took from them on that fateful day 13 years ago. Abbie of course wants to know what she's forgotten . . .
Long story short: Henry Parrish is evil. Are we at all surprised by this?
What Abbie and Jenny saw was Moloch drawing Parrish from the earth as the second Horseman. And Henry Parrish isn't his real name. No, it's the name of a church—the church Katrina abandoned her son Jeremy to some 200 years before. Because Henry is Jeremy. (Remember how they'd buried him? Which begs the question: At what point after being buried 200 years before did adolescent Jeremy cease to age? Because clearly he did age . . . For a while . . . Or are they trying to pass John Noble off as 200+ years old?)
So now Abbie is in Purgatory and Henry/Jeremy first bound his parents to a couple trees so as to lecture them before putting Ichabod into a grave and placing the Second Seal over him.
But what did he do with Mommy?
If you want to find out, Sleepy Hollow returns in the fall . . .
Television: Sherlock, "The Empty Hearse"
I do all my Sherlock coverage over on PepperWords. Here are links to my entries regarding "The Empty Hearse."
Initial Thoughts
A Little More on the Fan Aspect
And Finally (A Handful of Other Thoughts)
Initial Thoughts
A Little More on the Fan Aspect
And Finally (A Handful of Other Thoughts)
1.18.2014
Television: True Detective, "The Long Bright Dark"
First disclaimer: One of the actors in this show used to pull my hair and call me "Pigtail." I don't hold it against him, though.
Second disclaimer: My uncle lives in Erath, Louisiana, and he once tried to take us through a short cut in the cane fields. We promptly got lost. And then the car got stuck. It's one of those stories we tell each other whenever we all get together. (Family reunion in June! But that'll be back in New Orleans.)
All right, but how about the show? It's sort of a cross between Broadchurch and Twin Peaks and is really well executed on every front, by which I mean the casting is perfect, the writing and directing superb. It's a show that takes its time—this is not fast paced; it builds. But that suits the story, and in the meantime the characters themselves are interesting enough to carry things along.
True Detective features Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey as Martin Hart and Rustin Cohle respectively, two Louisiana State Police detectives who in 1995 find themselves caught up in what appears to be a ritualistic murder. The story is told through the filter of Hart and Cohle being separately interviewed about the case some years after. It's made clear they no longer work together; they split in 2002. Files to the case were lost in Hurricane Rita, hence the need for the interviews—because apparently a similar case has arisen in Lake Charles.
Hart is a family man with a wife and two daughters, coming across as very average (aside from, or perhaps partly due to, what appears to be an affair with a woman in the office). Cohle is more of a cypher in that he came to work in Louisiana after leaving Texas (and he grew up in Alaska, how interesting, since that's where my own mother hails from), so he is seen with some suspicion by the locals. I can tell you from life experience that this makes complete sense; we Sout' Louisanians are friendly but equally wary. Many of us never move more than a few miles from where we were born. And even if we do, we often come back. (I myself was raised in Texas, so I escaped some of the net that is Louisiana, but I'm rooted there firmly enough in spirit.) At the time of this murder in 1995, Hart and Cohle have only been working together three months and hardly know each other due to Cohle's reticence. But something about the case seems to break Cohle open, and he begins to talk . . . Only Hart is uncomfortable with the things Cohle has to say.
It's all so much subtlety, fine brush strokes and details laid over the broad and vivid canvas of Southern Louisiana. True Detective manages to be simultaneously charming and creepy, real and surreal. Viewers wanting something fast and furious will be disappointed, but those who enjoy character and craft can delight in this. I, for one, very much look forward to seeing more.
Second disclaimer: My uncle lives in Erath, Louisiana, and he once tried to take us through a short cut in the cane fields. We promptly got lost. And then the car got stuck. It's one of those stories we tell each other whenever we all get together. (Family reunion in June! But that'll be back in New Orleans.)
All right, but how about the show? It's sort of a cross between Broadchurch and Twin Peaks and is really well executed on every front, by which I mean the casting is perfect, the writing and directing superb. It's a show that takes its time—this is not fast paced; it builds. But that suits the story, and in the meantime the characters themselves are interesting enough to carry things along.
True Detective features Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey as Martin Hart and Rustin Cohle respectively, two Louisiana State Police detectives who in 1995 find themselves caught up in what appears to be a ritualistic murder. The story is told through the filter of Hart and Cohle being separately interviewed about the case some years after. It's made clear they no longer work together; they split in 2002. Files to the case were lost in Hurricane Rita, hence the need for the interviews—because apparently a similar case has arisen in Lake Charles.
Hart is a family man with a wife and two daughters, coming across as very average (aside from, or perhaps partly due to, what appears to be an affair with a woman in the office). Cohle is more of a cypher in that he came to work in Louisiana after leaving Texas (and he grew up in Alaska, how interesting, since that's where my own mother hails from), so he is seen with some suspicion by the locals. I can tell you from life experience that this makes complete sense; we Sout' Louisanians are friendly but equally wary. Many of us never move more than a few miles from where we were born. And even if we do, we often come back. (I myself was raised in Texas, so I escaped some of the net that is Louisiana, but I'm rooted there firmly enough in spirit.) At the time of this murder in 1995, Hart and Cohle have only been working together three months and hardly know each other due to Cohle's reticence. But something about the case seems to break Cohle open, and he begins to talk . . . Only Hart is uncomfortable with the things Cohle has to say.
It's all so much subtlety, fine brush strokes and details laid over the broad and vivid canvas of Southern Louisiana. True Detective manages to be simultaneously charming and creepy, real and surreal. Viewers wanting something fast and furious will be disappointed, but those who enjoy character and craft can delight in this. I, for one, very much look forward to seeing more.
Movies: Paranoia
So back when I reviewed R.I.P.D., I mentioned that it had received 13% on Rotten Tomatoes while Paranoia had received 4%. And I had to wonder what could be worse than R.I.P.D. So last night I took the leap and watched Paranoia.
The movie features Liam Hemsworth (known in these parts as Not Chris Pine) as some kind of . . . something—and already the movie is falling apart because though NCP's character Adam works for a big mobile phone developer, it isn't clear what he does. It's his friend Kevin who makes stuff work in cool ways, so . . . What use is Adam to anyone? He spends the film as a patsy and a pawn, and though the writers tried really hard to make us care about Adam by piling on the sick dad and no mom and he's trying to help his friends and he falls in love with the girl . . . He's got no personality. And no function except as this pawn in two rich men's games.
The rich men are Gary Oldman as Nicolas Wyatt and Harrison Ford as Jock Goddard. There's a cliché backstory in which Wyatt was once Goddard's protégé and then went off to become his biggest competitor. Some bad blood about how Goddard was using all Wyatt's best ideas. The usual stuff.
Adam works for Wyatt for all of eleven minutes before he's fired for making an ass of himself in a presentation. He gets Kevin and the rest of his team fired too. Again, what is Adam's job exactly? Except "fuckup"? Who let him be team leader?
Then Adam makes the fantastic decision to take everyone on the team out on one last "discretionary fund" night on the town. Which of course gets him hauled into Wyatt's office under threats of prosecution for fraud. But Wyatt will let it all go, and will pay Adam lots of money besides, and give Adam's friends jobs again, if Adam will just get hired by Goddard and do a little spying.
If the character had been a woman, this is where there would have been a fun montage of shopping and makeovers. With guys, the whole makeover thing is far more sinister and a lot less entertaining.
You can imagine from here how the movie goes on; it's pretty standard fare. And I think that's the biggest problem with Paranoia—there is no paranoia, no tension; its great offense is how boring it is. Gary Oldman and Harrison Ford are in only a handful of scenes and probably did their filming inside of a week. (Side note: Oldman's lips are now so thin as to be almost completely gone. But NCP's lips are very thick. Does that balance things out? Is there a "lip quota" for Hollywood movies? Just something I noticed while being bored by the rest of the film.)
So is it worse than R.I.P.D.? No, just a different kind of bad. Both films are clichéd versions of their genres, but where R.I.P.D. was just inexcusably stupid, Paranoia was inexcusably dull. R.I.P.D. failed on character development; Paranoia tried to develop characters but they all came out flat. Both use well-known, older male stars as a big part of their "sell": Jeff Bridges (and perhaps by extension Kevin Bacon) in the one, Ford, Oldman, and Richard Dreyfuss in the other. But the material is lacking; these stars have nothing to do except chew scenery like so much cud and punch up the already boilerplate aspects of their characters. In the end the sum total for each comes to the same: neither movie is any good. Pick your poison. Or better yet, find something else to do.
The movie features Liam Hemsworth (known in these parts as Not Chris Pine) as some kind of . . . something—and already the movie is falling apart because though NCP's character Adam works for a big mobile phone developer, it isn't clear what he does. It's his friend Kevin who makes stuff work in cool ways, so . . . What use is Adam to anyone? He spends the film as a patsy and a pawn, and though the writers tried really hard to make us care about Adam by piling on the sick dad and no mom and he's trying to help his friends and he falls in love with the girl . . . He's got no personality. And no function except as this pawn in two rich men's games.
The rich men are Gary Oldman as Nicolas Wyatt and Harrison Ford as Jock Goddard. There's a cliché backstory in which Wyatt was once Goddard's protégé and then went off to become his biggest competitor. Some bad blood about how Goddard was using all Wyatt's best ideas. The usual stuff.
Adam works for Wyatt for all of eleven minutes before he's fired for making an ass of himself in a presentation. He gets Kevin and the rest of his team fired too. Again, what is Adam's job exactly? Except "fuckup"? Who let him be team leader?
Then Adam makes the fantastic decision to take everyone on the team out on one last "discretionary fund" night on the town. Which of course gets him hauled into Wyatt's office under threats of prosecution for fraud. But Wyatt will let it all go, and will pay Adam lots of money besides, and give Adam's friends jobs again, if Adam will just get hired by Goddard and do a little spying.
If the character had been a woman, this is where there would have been a fun montage of shopping and makeovers. With guys, the whole makeover thing is far more sinister and a lot less entertaining.
You can imagine from here how the movie goes on; it's pretty standard fare. And I think that's the biggest problem with Paranoia—there is no paranoia, no tension; its great offense is how boring it is. Gary Oldman and Harrison Ford are in only a handful of scenes and probably did their filming inside of a week. (Side note: Oldman's lips are now so thin as to be almost completely gone. But NCP's lips are very thick. Does that balance things out? Is there a "lip quota" for Hollywood movies? Just something I noticed while being bored by the rest of the film.)
So is it worse than R.I.P.D.? No, just a different kind of bad. Both films are clichéd versions of their genres, but where R.I.P.D. was just inexcusably stupid, Paranoia was inexcusably dull. R.I.P.D. failed on character development; Paranoia tried to develop characters but they all came out flat. Both use well-known, older male stars as a big part of their "sell": Jeff Bridges (and perhaps by extension Kevin Bacon) in the one, Ford, Oldman, and Richard Dreyfuss in the other. But the material is lacking; these stars have nothing to do except chew scenery like so much cud and punch up the already boilerplate aspects of their characters. In the end the sum total for each comes to the same: neither movie is any good. Pick your poison. Or better yet, find something else to do.
1.16.2014
Television: Revolution, "Mis Dos Padres"
Don't care, don't care, don't care.
We started the season so well, but it is slowly devolving into a bunch of story lines I simply cannot manage to care about or even give all my attention to. I spent most of this episode playing Bookworm on my iPhone.
We've got Monroe, "captured" by his own son Connor, who has been raised by some kind of Mexican overlord. Miles and Rachel plan to break Monroe out, and then Connor ends up helping by giving Rachel the key. There was other stuff—Monroe kept Connor from getting in trouble and Miles got caught, and then Connor gave Rachel the key. But it all adds up to the same end: Connor being kicked out by his foster father and stuck with Rachel, Miles, and dear old Dad . . . And now Connor is willing to entertain the notion of helping Monroe rebuild his republic. Well, maybe that could be entertaining. But so far it hasn't been.
And Aaron is in Oklahoma. Still no big ball of string or whatever (boo!). Instead, Grace and Priscilla. Remember them? Grace who had helped Rachel develop the nanotech and Priscilla who was once Aaron's wife? Turns out Priscilla has seen the "fireflies" too. Has thought she was going crazy. Bottom line here: Because Grace and the team used Aaron's code (which Priscilla helped write, along with some guy named Peter), the nanotech consider them their parents. That's . . . dumb.
And Neville and his wife continue to plot. But it's their son who makes the move of breaking into Doyle's office in search of info to help close down the "re-education" camps. Yawn.
Finally, we have Gene and Charlie watching some kind of Patriot camp, complete with fences. Gene sees one of his friends taken in and is determined to go save him. He and Charlie argue, etc., so don't care.
There was a mention of Willoughby, Texas, becoming one of the new re-ed camps, though. ::shrug::
And there you have it. A whole lot of nothing much. I'm not sure Revolution will see a third season, and if it's going out like this—crawling like a dying anima—I won't miss it.
We started the season so well, but it is slowly devolving into a bunch of story lines I simply cannot manage to care about or even give all my attention to. I spent most of this episode playing Bookworm on my iPhone.
We've got Monroe, "captured" by his own son Connor, who has been raised by some kind of Mexican overlord. Miles and Rachel plan to break Monroe out, and then Connor ends up helping by giving Rachel the key. There was other stuff—Monroe kept Connor from getting in trouble and Miles got caught, and then Connor gave Rachel the key. But it all adds up to the same end: Connor being kicked out by his foster father and stuck with Rachel, Miles, and dear old Dad . . . And now Connor is willing to entertain the notion of helping Monroe rebuild his republic. Well, maybe that could be entertaining. But so far it hasn't been.
And Aaron is in Oklahoma. Still no big ball of string or whatever (boo!). Instead, Grace and Priscilla. Remember them? Grace who had helped Rachel develop the nanotech and Priscilla who was once Aaron's wife? Turns out Priscilla has seen the "fireflies" too. Has thought she was going crazy. Bottom line here: Because Grace and the team used Aaron's code (which Priscilla helped write, along with some guy named Peter), the nanotech consider them their parents. That's . . . dumb.
And Neville and his wife continue to plot. But it's their son who makes the move of breaking into Doyle's office in search of info to help close down the "re-education" camps. Yawn.
Finally, we have Gene and Charlie watching some kind of Patriot camp, complete with fences. Gene sees one of his friends taken in and is determined to go save him. He and Charlie argue, etc., so don't care.
There was a mention of Willoughby, Texas, becoming one of the new re-ed camps, though. ::shrug::
And there you have it. A whole lot of nothing much. I'm not sure Revolution will see a third season, and if it's going out like this—crawling like a dying anima—I won't miss it.
1.15.2014
Television: AHS: Coven, "Protect the Coven"
In 1830s New Orleans, Madame LaLaurie cuts the head off a chicken and finds she enjoys the feel of warm blood rushing over her fingers. So when (same day!) a slave is injured, she is given even greater opportunity to explore this new "sensation."
And in modern day, they are laying Nan to rest—in a coffin; see last week's writeup if you're wondering why I mention it—and wondering where Misty is, cuz then she could, you know, resurrect Nan. Then (a live!) Queenie and (a whole!) LaLaurie turn up. Though Queenie is keeping LaLaurie on a leash. Seriously.
As LaLaurie goes back to maid service, she narrates about her childhood of cutting apart small animals. She also serves shit soup (that happened in The Help with pie, didn't it?) and takes care of the kidnapped baby.
And then James, the gardener, comes in with a cut hand . . . And LaLaurie relapses. Ties him up in the attic. Old habits and all that.
Can't these witches sense this stuff going on?
Maybe they're too busy being caught up in their own issues. Madison finds Zoe and Kyle in the bathroom—Zoe is scrying in the tub, trying to figure out what really happened to Nan, and she sees Fiona and Laveau—and picks a fight. Kyle declares he doesn't want Madison, he loves Zoe. Madison throws a witchy tantrum that results in a broken mirror (bad luck?) and some pictures falling off the wall. I could do better.
And Fiona is still meeting the Axeman. He tells her they need to find and kill the upcoming Supreme. Talk about preaching to the choir.
Spalding (not live!) appears to LaLaurie in the attic and helps her clean up the remains of James. He tells her Marie Laveau must die, and that if Laveau dies, LaLaurie will be free too. They just need a little magic to make it happen. And LaLaurie needs to "venture out into the world and retrieve an item" for Spalding first.
Meanwhile, Cordelia is trying to get her visionary sight back. By stabbing herself in the eyes. Fiona comes screaming home . . . Why? Last week she hated Cordelia. Why start caring now?
Myrtle accuses Fiona of being an enemy to the coven and says Cordelia is a hero. And Fiona loses her nerve to see Cordelia, afraid her secrets will be lay bare by Cordelia's resumed power.
LaLaurie brings Spalding an antique baby doll for his collection, the item he demanded. And he tells her two capsules of Benadryl dissolved in a glass of water will render Laveau powerless. Um . . . Sleepy maybe. But powerless? Really?
Myrtle tells Zoe to take Kyle and leave the coven. Better to escape with one's love than face the witch hunters.
Fiona and Laveau meet with the witch hunters. A negotiation for a 100-year truce. But with a martini on the table, surely it will be thrown? Alas, no. Axeman throws axes instead, and with Fiona taking the final swing, the witch hunters are all dead.
I'm a little confused. Can everyone see Axeman, even though he's a ghost? He can clearly interact with physical things (glasses, axes), but . . . Seems like this hasn't been explained or explored entirely. Or maybe I just missed it.
LaLaurie pours drinks laced with Benadryl and stabs Laveau in the chest. When Laveau scoffs and chases LaLaurie, Spalding knocks Laveau over the head with one of his dolls and suggests LaLaurie bury Laveau . . . Pretty much just as Laveau had done to LaLaurie, right?
Oh, and Spalding takes the baby. Yes, the live one.
And in modern day, they are laying Nan to rest—in a coffin; see last week's writeup if you're wondering why I mention it—and wondering where Misty is, cuz then she could, you know, resurrect Nan. Then (a live!) Queenie and (a whole!) LaLaurie turn up. Though Queenie is keeping LaLaurie on a leash. Seriously.
As LaLaurie goes back to maid service, she narrates about her childhood of cutting apart small animals. She also serves shit soup (that happened in The Help with pie, didn't it?) and takes care of the kidnapped baby.
And then James, the gardener, comes in with a cut hand . . . And LaLaurie relapses. Ties him up in the attic. Old habits and all that.
Can't these witches sense this stuff going on?
Maybe they're too busy being caught up in their own issues. Madison finds Zoe and Kyle in the bathroom—Zoe is scrying in the tub, trying to figure out what really happened to Nan, and she sees Fiona and Laveau—and picks a fight. Kyle declares he doesn't want Madison, he loves Zoe. Madison throws a witchy tantrum that results in a broken mirror (bad luck?) and some pictures falling off the wall. I could do better.
And Fiona is still meeting the Axeman. He tells her they need to find and kill the upcoming Supreme. Talk about preaching to the choir.
Spalding (not live!) appears to LaLaurie in the attic and helps her clean up the remains of James. He tells her Marie Laveau must die, and that if Laveau dies, LaLaurie will be free too. They just need a little magic to make it happen. And LaLaurie needs to "venture out into the world and retrieve an item" for Spalding first.
Meanwhile, Cordelia is trying to get her visionary sight back. By stabbing herself in the eyes. Fiona comes screaming home . . . Why? Last week she hated Cordelia. Why start caring now?
Myrtle accuses Fiona of being an enemy to the coven and says Cordelia is a hero. And Fiona loses her nerve to see Cordelia, afraid her secrets will be lay bare by Cordelia's resumed power.
LaLaurie brings Spalding an antique baby doll for his collection, the item he demanded. And he tells her two capsules of Benadryl dissolved in a glass of water will render Laveau powerless. Um . . . Sleepy maybe. But powerless? Really?
Myrtle tells Zoe to take Kyle and leave the coven. Better to escape with one's love than face the witch hunters.
Fiona and Laveau meet with the witch hunters. A negotiation for a 100-year truce. But with a martini on the table, surely it will be thrown? Alas, no. Axeman throws axes instead, and with Fiona taking the final swing, the witch hunters are all dead.
I'm a little confused. Can everyone see Axeman, even though he's a ghost? He can clearly interact with physical things (glasses, axes), but . . . Seems like this hasn't been explained or explored entirely. Or maybe I just missed it.
LaLaurie pours drinks laced with Benadryl and stabs Laveau in the chest. When Laveau scoffs and chases LaLaurie, Spalding knocks Laveau over the head with one of his dolls and suggests LaLaurie bury Laveau . . . Pretty much just as Laveau had done to LaLaurie, right?
Oh, and Spalding takes the baby. Yes, the live one.
Books: What I'm Reading Now
I don't get a lot of time to read, at least not lately, because I have so many writing projects of my own. Most of my reading happens when I'm sitting around waiting (I try always to carry a book), or if I'm on a plane (which I will be at the end of the month), or if I'm in the bath.
Right now, in any case, I have a couple books I'm switching between. I received Correspondence: An Adventure in Letters as a Christmas gift; it had been on my Amazon wish list for ages. I'd added it because I'd read something about it somewhere . . . Anyway, it's an epistolary novel (duh) that has some guy named Larry in New York writing back and forth with Stephen in London. Larry has his great-great-grandfather's correspondence (letters) with famous Victorian authors and wants to auction them, and Stephen works for the Manuscripts and Letters department of Christie's. I was into it for a while, but Larry becomes increasingly irritating—and does most of the "talking"—and now I find I can only read this book in small portions. And anyway, it doesn't seem like we're ever going to get more than a hint of the grandfather's letters from Dickens and others of that sort.
So I'm cutting Correspondence with some nonfiction, namely The Wisdom of Psychopaths. Picked this one up at an airport bookstore on my way to L.A. last fall (seemed like it might be handy in L.A.). I've only read the preface, so I can't say much about the book so far except that the writing style is very personable. Better than having to read a bunch of letters from Larry anyway. Don't get me wrong, Larry's fine in small doses, but on the whole I prefer to spend my time with the psychopaths.
Right now, in any case, I have a couple books I'm switching between. I received Correspondence: An Adventure in Letters as a Christmas gift; it had been on my Amazon wish list for ages. I'd added it because I'd read something about it somewhere . . . Anyway, it's an epistolary novel (duh) that has some guy named Larry in New York writing back and forth with Stephen in London. Larry has his great-great-grandfather's correspondence (letters) with famous Victorian authors and wants to auction them, and Stephen works for the Manuscripts and Letters department of Christie's. I was into it for a while, but Larry becomes increasingly irritating—and does most of the "talking"—and now I find I can only read this book in small portions. And anyway, it doesn't seem like we're ever going to get more than a hint of the grandfather's letters from Dickens and others of that sort.
So I'm cutting Correspondence with some nonfiction, namely The Wisdom of Psychopaths. Picked this one up at an airport bookstore on my way to L.A. last fall (seemed like it might be handy in L.A.). I've only read the preface, so I can't say much about the book so far except that the writing style is very personable. Better than having to read a bunch of letters from Larry anyway. Don't get me wrong, Larry's fine in small doses, but on the whole I prefer to spend my time with the psychopaths.
1.14.2014
Television: Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., "The Seed"
In which we get to visit the Science & Technology campus of S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy and also learn more about Skye's origins.
A Story: A weird happening at the Science Academy, in which an indoor pool suddenly froze over, sends Fitz & Simmons back to school to give a lecture on how science is both exciting and dangerous, kiddies! Grant and Skye go along for the ride and try to determine which of the students might be a "bad seed"—that is, which one might have left the device in the pool's filter.
B Story: May and Coulson go to Mexico City to track down Richard Lumley, the agent who had been working with the late Agent Avery, who was herself the one to drop Skye at the orphanage before being murdered.
A Story: The weird loner is, of course, the one who did it. Look, I could go through all the little plot points, but let's get down to brass tacks. This Donnie kid was at the pool when it happened, and then during Fitz & Simmons's lecture he is frozen by a second device under his seat. Um . . . Lowest common denominator = Donnie as the link. So of course he attacks himself to make it look like he's being targeted. Duh.
He's not entirely a loner, however; a more popular but less brainy student (and one supposes at S.H.I.E.L.D. Sci-Tech "less brainy" is relative, but whatever) has been egging Donnie on because he wants to sell this freeze gun or ray or whatever to that awful Ian Quinn guy. Remember him? But they needed to lure Fitz & Simmons back to campus because they needed help with the power source. So they planned the attacks for that reason.
Whole thing ends with a massive hail storm and Donnie's friend dying. Donnie ends up jaded . . . And also with the power to freeze things? (Apparently he goes on to become "Blizzard"? Just makes me want Dairy Queen . . .)
B Story: After catching up to Richard Lumley in Lola (that's the flying car), May and Coulson get the scoop on Skye. Namely, that she's an 0-8-4 with some kind of power(s). And that a lot of people died to protect her, moving her from place to place (hence all the foster families) . . . What does that make her? Supergirl? (Yes, I know that's D.C., but you see what I mean: some kind of "alien" with powers.) So now instead of looking for Skye's parents, we're looking to discover who or what she really is and is capable of. I guess. Kudos at least for not dragging out the lost parents search indefinitely.
Coulson and May release Lumley back into hiding, and May tells Coulson he can't tell Skye the truth. But having just been bit by a big fat S.H.I.E.L.D. lie himself, he's unwilling to lie to Skye in turn. So he tells her.
So wait. This episode, when boiled down, was the origin stories of Blizzard and Skye. Someone has weather on the brain . . . (Is she called Skye because she came from the sky? Maybe? Just a guess.)
Oh, and Ian Quinn is in contact with our elusive Clairvoyant. Is that meant to thicken the plot? And if this Clairvoyant is really clairvoyant, doesn't s/he know about Skye? Wouldn't s/he want to get hold of her? Seems like the kind of thing the Clairvoyant would find use for. Someone with untapped powers, that is.
I dunno. Just thinking (typing?) aloud here. And still really wanting Dairy Queen.
ETA: It occurs to me that, back in the day, if one wanted help from a luminary, one might just write to them. Instead of, you know, luring them somewhere and tricking them and whatever. I mean, would an e-mail to Fitz have been so difficult? Just saying.
A Story: A weird happening at the Science Academy, in which an indoor pool suddenly froze over, sends Fitz & Simmons back to school to give a lecture on how science is both exciting and dangerous, kiddies! Grant and Skye go along for the ride and try to determine which of the students might be a "bad seed"—that is, which one might have left the device in the pool's filter.
B Story: May and Coulson go to Mexico City to track down Richard Lumley, the agent who had been working with the late Agent Avery, who was herself the one to drop Skye at the orphanage before being murdered.
A Story: The weird loner is, of course, the one who did it. Look, I could go through all the little plot points, but let's get down to brass tacks. This Donnie kid was at the pool when it happened, and then during Fitz & Simmons's lecture he is frozen by a second device under his seat. Um . . . Lowest common denominator = Donnie as the link. So of course he attacks himself to make it look like he's being targeted. Duh.
He's not entirely a loner, however; a more popular but less brainy student (and one supposes at S.H.I.E.L.D. Sci-Tech "less brainy" is relative, but whatever) has been egging Donnie on because he wants to sell this freeze gun or ray or whatever to that awful Ian Quinn guy. Remember him? But they needed to lure Fitz & Simmons back to campus because they needed help with the power source. So they planned the attacks for that reason.
Whole thing ends with a massive hail storm and Donnie's friend dying. Donnie ends up jaded . . . And also with the power to freeze things? (Apparently he goes on to become "Blizzard"? Just makes me want Dairy Queen . . .)
B Story: After catching up to Richard Lumley in Lola (that's the flying car), May and Coulson get the scoop on Skye. Namely, that she's an 0-8-4 with some kind of power(s). And that a lot of people died to protect her, moving her from place to place (hence all the foster families) . . . What does that make her? Supergirl? (Yes, I know that's D.C., but you see what I mean: some kind of "alien" with powers.) So now instead of looking for Skye's parents, we're looking to discover who or what she really is and is capable of. I guess. Kudos at least for not dragging out the lost parents search indefinitely.
Coulson and May release Lumley back into hiding, and May tells Coulson he can't tell Skye the truth. But having just been bit by a big fat S.H.I.E.L.D. lie himself, he's unwilling to lie to Skye in turn. So he tells her.
So wait. This episode, when boiled down, was the origin stories of Blizzard and Skye. Someone has weather on the brain . . . (Is she called Skye because she came from the sky? Maybe? Just a guess.)
Oh, and Ian Quinn is in contact with our elusive Clairvoyant. Is that meant to thicken the plot? And if this Clairvoyant is really clairvoyant, doesn't s/he know about Skye? Wouldn't s/he want to get hold of her? Seems like the kind of thing the Clairvoyant would find use for. Someone with untapped powers, that is.
I dunno. Just thinking (typing?) aloud here. And still really wanting Dairy Queen.
ETA: It occurs to me that, back in the day, if one wanted help from a luminary, one might just write to them. Instead of, you know, luring them somewhere and tricking them and whatever. I mean, would an e-mail to Fitz have been so difficult? Just saying.
1.13.2014
Television: Intelligence, "Red X"
Okay, so Gabriel = walking Internet. And Riley = his cheeky sidekick/bodyguard. They work for the government but are also looking for Gabriel's MIA wife Amelia who is considered both dead and a traitor. Except Chinese intelligence suggests she recently boarded a plane to [I don't remember where].
That's the setup, more or less.
Riley has moved into an apartment across from and above Gabriel's. "Overlook." So she can keep an eye on him.
Today's problem to solve: How did a terrorist get past all the sophisticated equipment and still manage to get explosives into a military base? Additionally, what to do about a terrorist that has just arrived in Washington D.C.?
Ah, the undetectable explosive is "experimental." But clearly the wrong people have managed to get ahold of it.
I'll say I am enjoying John Billingsley as Dr. Cassidy. Yeah, it's a total cliché to have some old guy mentor/wizard, but . . . Some do it better than others. I liked Cassidy in the pilot and am happy to see he's a regular. I think it's the fact that he looks like someone who belongs in a library. His appearance soothes my natural literariness, yet his character appeals to my logical and analytical side. Good balance. For me, anyway.
Okay, so the explosive requires two people. One to carry it in, another to act as the detonator. Fun!
Obligatory Gabriel-walks-out-in-a-huff moment followed by equally obligatory Riley-reminds-him-of-his-duty moment. (She guilts him into coming back by telling him stories of people who have lost loved ones to Red X.)
They track the bomb guy to a highrise. Gabriel tracks the bomb while Riley lands the button. She's not fast enough to stop him, but his detonator ends up being a dud anyway. He gets away—and Amelia is the one driving the getaway car.
One can tell much of this series will hinge on tracking Amelia and trying to determine which side she's really on. Is she just deep undercover? Or is she really a traitor? And my big question: How long before this gets old?
Gabriel is really angry Riley shot at his wife, and he takes Lillian (that's the boss lady) to task for it. Cassidy and Cassidy Jr. (Nelson, actually, so technically not Jr.) must remove the Red X from the dead bomb guy. Then they deduce the detonator guy who got away has even more Red X somewhere and will surely be planning another attack.
Geez, not even a "thank you" to the kid who gave you the big clue on where the bad guys were going to hit next? You just get what you want and quit being nice the minute you have it? Gabriel and Riley are assholes to kids.
It's a hospital, btw.
And Amelia is the bomb.
Well, at least they didn't drag that out like I worried they would.
Gabriel tries to reason with Amelia while Riley threatens to shoot her. Then decides to knock Gabriel through a window so they can both go flying into a handily place canal. Right before the hospital explodes. Good thing they'd been able to evacuate the hospital first.
So now Amelia is dead for sure? I'm not clear how shooting her would have done any good; no one said Red X only worked in living tissue, did they? If so, I missed it.
Oh, good. At least Lillian went to thank the kid. And pump him for more info. Turns out the clue that led to the hospital (and Amelia) was given to the kid by Amelia to give to Gabriel. So . . . Traitor/Not a Traitor?
So far I'm finding Intelligence mildly entertaining. It's paced out like any other of this kind of show, and the characters are pretty standard, but at least the plots have held my attention. That's more than many shows can say. If next week holds up, this one may make my regular viewing list.
That's the setup, more or less.
Riley has moved into an apartment across from and above Gabriel's. "Overlook." So she can keep an eye on him.
Today's problem to solve: How did a terrorist get past all the sophisticated equipment and still manage to get explosives into a military base? Additionally, what to do about a terrorist that has just arrived in Washington D.C.?
Ah, the undetectable explosive is "experimental." But clearly the wrong people have managed to get ahold of it.
I'll say I am enjoying John Billingsley as Dr. Cassidy. Yeah, it's a total cliché to have some old guy mentor/wizard, but . . . Some do it better than others. I liked Cassidy in the pilot and am happy to see he's a regular. I think it's the fact that he looks like someone who belongs in a library. His appearance soothes my natural literariness, yet his character appeals to my logical and analytical side. Good balance. For me, anyway.
Okay, so the explosive requires two people. One to carry it in, another to act as the detonator. Fun!
Obligatory Gabriel-walks-out-in-a-huff moment followed by equally obligatory Riley-reminds-him-of-his-duty moment. (She guilts him into coming back by telling him stories of people who have lost loved ones to Red X.)
They track the bomb guy to a highrise. Gabriel tracks the bomb while Riley lands the button. She's not fast enough to stop him, but his detonator ends up being a dud anyway. He gets away—and Amelia is the one driving the getaway car.
One can tell much of this series will hinge on tracking Amelia and trying to determine which side she's really on. Is she just deep undercover? Or is she really a traitor? And my big question: How long before this gets old?
Gabriel is really angry Riley shot at his wife, and he takes Lillian (that's the boss lady) to task for it. Cassidy and Cassidy Jr. (Nelson, actually, so technically not Jr.) must remove the Red X from the dead bomb guy. Then they deduce the detonator guy who got away has even more Red X somewhere and will surely be planning another attack.
Geez, not even a "thank you" to the kid who gave you the big clue on where the bad guys were going to hit next? You just get what you want and quit being nice the minute you have it? Gabriel and Riley are assholes to kids.
It's a hospital, btw.
And Amelia is the bomb.
Well, at least they didn't drag that out like I worried they would.
Gabriel tries to reason with Amelia while Riley threatens to shoot her. Then decides to knock Gabriel through a window so they can both go flying into a handily place canal. Right before the hospital explodes. Good thing they'd been able to evacuate the hospital first.
So now Amelia is dead for sure? I'm not clear how shooting her would have done any good; no one said Red X only worked in living tissue, did they? If so, I missed it.
Oh, good. At least Lillian went to thank the kid. And pump him for more info. Turns out the clue that led to the hospital (and Amelia) was given to the kid by Amelia to give to Gabriel. So . . . Traitor/Not a Traitor?
So far I'm finding Intelligence mildly entertaining. It's paced out like any other of this kind of show, and the characters are pretty standard, but at least the plots have held my attention. That's more than many shows can say. If next week holds up, this one may make my regular viewing list.
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