Star Wars: The Tour De Force

If you haven't seen Star Wars: The Force Awakens I can only assume one of two things is going on with you. 1. The holidays have been really hectic and try as you might you just haven't gotten around to it. Or 2. You are kind of a lukewarm Star Wars fan who might get around to seeing it eventually.

I write this for neither of you. Get your priorities straight, and get back to me.

For those of us who know what is truly important in the world, let's talk Star Wars. My parents, who are way more diligent Star Wars fans, watched all three* original movies in preparation for seeing this new installment. This is really the way to go, especially if it's been awhile since you've seen the movies-- although I can't imagine it has. If your family is anything like my family Star Wars is a Christmas tradition.

The Force Awakens has had so much HYPE swirling around it that I have made a concerted effort to avoid and ignore. I wanted to know very little before I sat down to watch the movie. I watched the teaser trailer but not the theatrical trailer, I did not go snooping for the plot, or obsess over the cast lists--basically I did none of the things I usually do when I am excited for a new movie. This is primarily because I resisted being excited about this new Star Wars movie. It's not like... a Marvel movie which for the last... 10ish years has kept a relatively impressive track record (if we ignore Iron Man 2, where seemingly everyone forgot that they were banking on this being a successful, long-lived franchise). But I've been burned by Star Wars before, so I refused to be disappointed if things went south.

I'd like to think I have high standards for science fiction. Recently, a coworker was telling me about the film Ex Machina and was surprised that I hadn't seen it. In a momentary delusion brought on by the disappointment in my coworker's face I explained that I didn't watch a lot of science fiction. As I heard the words out loud I realized the extent to which I can confidently spew bold-faced lies. You've been warned.

I wouldn't say that I am a certified science fiction expert, but I'm not totally ignorant. I've mentioned here before my (relatively) new found love for Star Trek, I grew up on Star Wars (much like Kylo Ren and Rey, I consider Han Solo a father figure), and I am a card carrying cult member for the cult-classic Firefly. I've seen all the B-movie classics after an unfortunate phase in middle school wherein I subjected my family and friends to innumerable unwatchable films such as Plan 9 From Outer Space, The Blob, Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Teenagers from Outer Space (best of the lot). The line gets blurred after that. Does Walking Dead Count? Do Marvel movies count? Doctor Who? I guess if I were a true science fiction fan, I would know.

When I say I grew up watching Star Wars I mean that seriously. I have very few memories of watching television or movies as a child and although I had a standard fleet of animated Disney flicks, my parents may be disappointed to know that the first concrete memories I have of watching movies are limited to four adult movies: Groundhog Day, Romancing the Stone, A Fish Called Wanda, and Star Wars. I also have very clear memories of staying up past my bedtime to watch 3rd Rock from the Sun with my parents. This may explain why I have such a warped sense of humor. In any case, Star Wars holds a lot of nostalgic value for me. I think this is true for a lot of people.

The stakes were high sitting in the movie theater a few nights ago. I knew that although I had kept my excitement on lock-down, I would still be very disappointed if the movie was a flop. Twenty minutes of trailers later, there was no turning back.

Long story short, I enjoyed myself immensely. This may have been due to my subterranean expectations, but I was impressed. The movie *felt* like the originals. It didn't feel like 38 years (yes, 38 years) had passed since A New Hope. I wish I had a more technical way of explaining how this was done, but I don't have much more to go on other than this feeling of continuity.

Part of this is undoubtedly due to the parallels between A New Hope and The Force Awakens. Although I would recommend being intimately familiar with the first three* before seeing The Force Awakens, honestly, they are so blunt with the parallels and head nods to the originals, that it would be hard to miss even if you haven't seen them in... 38 years. I liked some of the parallels but after a while I thought it was a little heavy handed. Movie makers are setting themselves at a disadvantage when they try to set up the same exciting twist over and over. This is, after all, why magicians don't do the same trick twice; they don't want the audience to see it coming.

The movie was funny-- truly laugh out loud funny several times, which quickly eased the tension I was experiencing in anticipation of a let down. I thank the nearly instant chemistry between all the characters for this. Finn (John Boyega) gets the award for funniest character and best comedic timing. I instantly felt at ease in his presence. BB-8 was also funny and cute which everyone already knows because BB-8 merchandise is everywhere now.

I will always be vocal about my desire to see lots of strong females in pop culture. It's been a pretty good year for female characters. I think the best advertised version of this was Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) in Mad Max: Fury Road. I would argue that Rey (Daisy Ridley) should be ranked among Furiosa as a really badass lady. In my opinion they should have a new Oscar category for Best Badass Lady in an Action Movie. This year, I nominate Charlize Theron and Daisy Ridley. I finally understand people who name their children Luke or Leia. I would totally name my daughter Rey.

I can't even handle Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) right now. He's too good at being bad and I always knew Adam Driver was amazing, and I have to stop now before I start crying.

It's an overwhelming movie and honestly, I can't wait to watch it again.




*a gentle, yet forceful, emphasis on the word three

Master of Something

It feels like there was a lot of hype about Master of None when it first was released, but I'm not sure the hype has continued passed the initial few weeks. This may be because Jessica Jones has overshadowed Master of None as the new Netflix it girl. Not surprisingly because Jessica Jones is a phenomenal show that at a future time I will expound upon.

However, Aziz Ansari's show is also a fantastic show, that should not be overlooked. If you like Louis CK's Louie, you will like Master of None. If you like Aziz Ansari's stand-up you will definitely like this show.

I don't think this show is getting enough credit for being ground breaking. I think Aziz Ansari and Alan Yang deserve a lot of credit for being very real in a very subtle way. It almost takes effort to see that the show they created is different from many shows made today because the show feels so... real and... right. Because it is right, and they are right to make it the way that they did.

Ten years ago this show would have been made with an all white, male cast. There would have been a token black guy and a token (white) girl, to give the illusion of diversity or reality and then been done with it. We've seen it before, I don't have to spell it out for you.

It's comforting, and sadly, refreshing to see such refined racial and gender parity in the casting of this show. I think this show, more than anything I've seen in recent history, created a diverse cast without it seeming manufactured. In the most beautiful way, these people are people. They don't feel like caricatures, and they certainly don't feel like political statements.

It's a refreshing show in that it is successfully light-hearted while also tackling some more serious themes. I hesitate to call it a comedy even though it is co-created by one of the funniest men out and about these days. It certainly fits within the realm of sitcom in that the cast of characters is given a situation each week-- Parents, Sexism, Racism, even Old People-- and then deals with the situation in comical ways.

I never would have thought I would call Aziz Ansari a subtle dude. Maybe it is a symptom of watching him play the outlandish Tom on Parks and Recreation, but I would have imagined a much grander, much more slap-stick show from Aziz Ansari. But this show is gentle in many ways. Sure there are some silly goofs, throwaway jokes, and immature laughs--but overall it is a show full of smart people, smart jokes, and smart take-aways.

If you haven't checked it out, please do. And if you have checked it out and been distracted by Jessica Jones, Star Wars, or The Holidays, please go back to it. I think it deserves the love. And shows like this don't get made again if they don't get support. This is a show, if nothing else, that should set an example for future television.

REWATCH: Star Trek Into Darkness

Tonight my mother and I debated for quite some time about what movie to pop in our DVD player. I brought up Romancing the Stone (in seriousness) and my mom countered with Indiana Jones. Indiana Jones led us logically to Star Wars (which for my family is a holiday classic), but I wasn't convinced. This is when my dad reminded both of us that we've had the same Netflix DVD since October which my mother and I rejected in unison (Sorry Keira Knightley and Mark Ruffalo in Begin Again). At this point I suggested (turning my back on my upbringing in the process) that instead of watching Star Wars, we watch Star Trek: Into Darkness.

As much as I appreciate that Hollywood didn't just smack a backwards number 2 (or worse, Roman numerals) onto the Star Trek title to signify the sequel, I think the subtitle "Into Darkness" is a bit silly. I mean, we are talking about shooting off into space-- deep, DARK space. That subtitle is either very redundant or very dramatic. The other thing that annoys me is that the people responsible for the first of Star Trek reboot knew this was going to be a franchise-- I mean it is a reboot of (one of) the most successful franchises in history-- so why didn't the first of the series get a subtitle? It could have been Star Trek: The Trek Begins and then Star Trek: The Trekking Continues. Okay, I'm not good at naming movies, whatever, not the point.

The reboot was successful (duh) and the sequel was almost immediately commissioned. And here we are today watching the sequel on blu-ray in my living room. And again, this was successful enough for the franchise to be granted another movie (Star Trek: The Trek is Still Going Strong). Actually the third installment is going to be called Star Trek Beyond (which, honestly, isn't that different from Star Trek: The Trek is Still Going Strong). And according to IMDb there is a forth movie in the mix that so far is creatively called Star Trek 4 (I would have called it Star Trek: Can't Stop Trekkin').

I was born and raised a Star Wars fan and although I had seen many of the Star Trek movies (and a few of the episodes of the TV show), I'm not a superfan like some people are. I once had a professor who was simultaneously obsessed with Star Trek and Smurfs (Canadians, amiright?!). He would intermittently sprinkle in quotes from both in his lectures. Now HE was a superfan of Star Trek.

I don't know if there are a lot of haters out there for those of us who joined the Star Trek fandom with the reboot or if they are just happy to have more join the live-long-and-prosper ranks, but I am unashamedly a new recruit to the Starfleet. I don't think it is wise for people to bogart things they love that are easily shared. It does not take away from your experience or enjoyment of music, movies, books, or television shows to share it. These things are immortal only when new people can appreciate it. Sophocles, Homer, Shakespeare, Moliere, Chaucer, Dickens, Austen, and many more long dead are still remembered because a new generation picked them up, played with them, and passed them along selflessly. We should take that example in terms of more modern media like television and film.

In any case, I enjoyed revisiting this reboot and I'm excited for the continuation of this franchise. I'm always a fan of ensemble pieces, especially when they all are as sassy as the cast of Star Trek. Bones is definitely my favorite character.

For more Star Trek related hilarity, please check out Eddie Izzard's Star Trek bit from Unrepeatable. Especially if you are a fan of the old TV show.

No Panacea for Peter

I totally gave Pan the benefit of the doubt. First of all because the Peter Pan is one of my all time favorite stories and second of all because origin stories, if done right, can be great for super-fans.

The movie Pan offers one of the most disappointed possible origin stories I've seen in recent history. It essentially ignores all aspects of the Peter Pan story that are worth going into during a prequel in order to offer endless cliches that have not only been done before, they've been done better.

No story can ever start at the very beginning. As a story teller or audience member, you have to take some facts for granted. Captain Hook is Peter's nemesis, Captain Hook has a hook for a hand from a run-in with a crocodile that Peter had something to do with, Peter is kind of a mettlesome prick, Tinkerbell is Peter Pan's best friend, and neither Hook nor Peter Pan should mess with (the mostly racially problematic) Tiger Lilly. These are the key elements of the story not usually addressed because the original story of Peter Pan is about Wendy, John and what's-his-face (just looked it up, Michael). We get their backstories because they are our real protagonists (actually, if you ask me, only Wendy is). Knowing the specific details on how Hook lost his hand and how Peter Pan may or may not have been involved is not important in a story about the Darling family.

That's why origin stories are made. They offer answers to questions never asked in the main story line because what is important in that moment is often what is happening, not why it is happening. Presumably J. M. Barrie, creator of Peter Pan, knew the back stories of all his characters. He may very well have gone in great detail into the particulars of Peter Pan and Hook's origins in the book, I must admit I've never read it.

But I know a bit about about the Peter Pan canon because I've seen the play and musical based on the book, the Disney animated movie, Robin William's Hook, and the 2003 movie (with pretty-boy-Peter Jeremy Sumpter and my personal favorite Jason Isaacs as Hook). I even saw the nearly unwatchable live broadcast of the musical that aired last winter as well as the Johnny Depp film based loosely around the life of J. M. Barrie. Although now that I think about it, that could very well have been a fever dream on my part, as so many of Johnny Depp's films in the last ten years seem to run together into an amalgamation of whimsical overacting and bizarre costume choices. In any case, with all this knowledge of Peter Pan, I still don't have a firm idea of quite how they became such ferocious foes.

To put it simply, Pan betrays the audience by not living up to its promise as an origin story. Pan tells the story of an orphan boy whose life is terrible because his orphanage is run by Miss Hannigan/ Miss Minchin/ Agatha Trunchbull/ Petunia Dursley. Then he is kidnapped by pirates who work for Blackbeard. Blackbeard is enslaving orphans to mine fairy dust because it keeps him immortal and looking fresh just like Mother Gothel/ the Sanderson Sisters/ Nicolas Flammel/ miscellaneous succubi. Pan decides to team up with rebel without a cause/ Han Solo/ lone wolf/ anarchist/ reluctant ally, Captain Hook, and bumbling idiot/ spineless nobody/ comic relief/ token British person, Sam Smiegel. They meet up with (still mostly racially problematic) Tiger Lilly/ Faith Lehane/ Michonne/ Black Widow/ brooding trained killer. This is what follows: action sequence, action sequence, self-doubt (on Peter's part), action sequence, action sequence, self-serving action (Hook), action sequence, action sequence, self-sacrificing action (Hook behaving almost precisely like Han Solo), final action sequence, victory.

It could have been anything. It could have been Matilda, or Harry Potter, or Star Wars, because there wasn't a single original plot point in the whole movie. But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part is that it answered none of the questions a prequel to Peter Pan should answer. Sure, it alluded to some things-- like there is a crocodile for about three minutes during an action sequence. But it did not tell us anything we came here to be told.

The movie sets us up for failure. One of the first lines in the prologue says, "Sometimes friends begin as enemies and enemies begin as friends. Sometimes to truly understand how things end, we must first know how they begin." Great, I was thinking. We are about to see how friends, Peter and Hook, become enemies. That's just what I want to see. But I was mistaken. The movie ends with an exchange that goes something like this:

Peter: Nothing will ever come between us, will it, Hook?
Hook: No way, we'll be friends forever!

Okay, I might be paraphrasing, but as I can't find the quote online, you'll have to take my word for it. What a dismally disappointing ending to an already mediocre movie. I wanted betrayal, heartbreak, loss. Not BFFs on a quest to defeat Hugh Jackman in drag.

There were other problematic things about this movie, other than the misleading concept of finally finding out what happened between Peter and Hook. It is one of those movies, unfortunately, that not only fall below your expectations, they flounder on the floor in front of you as you frown disapprovingly. Here are a few things, besides the let down of not giving me the kind of prequel I wanted, that I was not happy about.

I don't deny that Rooney Mara delivered a good performance, but it will always be problematic for me when a character is white washed by Hollywood. In fact, for the most part the indigenous peoples of Neverland were treated sloppily in terms of casting. They apparently don't have a race or ethnicity so much as they have whatever people of color the casting department could scrounge up at the time of shooting. The village elder is Australian (Jack Charles), the village warrior is Korean (Na Tae-Joo)... so... I'm clearly missing their casting concept. In any case, I think the creators have run into the common problem of casting a handful racially diverse actors, patting themselves on the back, and then giving them all collectively about 30 seconds of screen time. When the cast of Pan was first released, many online forums lambasted the creators for casting Tiger Lilly as a white woman and I tend to agree.

I also had some issues with our characters's motivations. I have a personal distaste for the "I must do blank so I can lie forever" plot point which is basically our only motivation for our baddie, Blackbeard. It has been done so much and it offers no interpersonal conflict. No one is doing anything for love, or loss, or revenge, or betrayal. Blackbeard just wants to be young forever, Hook just wants to go home (to the... Midwest?.. apparently?), and Peter just wants to fulfill a prophecy he didn't even know existed until five seconds ago. The plot seems very forced and not at all emotionally charged. During various moments the writers try to rectify this by crow-barring some mommy issues into what Peter is dealing with, but again it feels too artificial. Peter literally says at one point something along the lines of, "How can I love someone so much when I haven't even met them?" and it should have been left unsaid. Orphans universally want their mothers and fathers to come back and adopt them (see the whole plot of Annie). You don't have to force feed the audience emotional depth like that--it brings us out of the story and makes us question the plot.

In general the writing left something to be desired. Some lines were cute, some were funny, some referenced the Peter Pan canon and felt like a little Easter egg, but a lot of the writing felt stale before it left the character's mouth. Twice Peter Pan refuses to kneel to Blackbeard-- and a swear I've seen that scene one thousand times. At one point, and this may tell more about me than the writing in the movie, Blackbeard has Peter down in his captain's chambers, telling him of a prophecy. When he finishes his story Peter says, "I don't believe in bedtime stories" and I swear I was back on the Black Pearl when Elizabeth says, "I hardly believe in ghost stories anymore, Captain Barbossa" and Barbossa says, "You best start believing in ghost stories, Miss Turner-- You're in one!" (I didn't even need to look that quote up, I have that one locked in my brain for all eternity). Anyway, so much of the plot and so much of the dialogue felt old and recycled, poorly re-purposed for this story.

I won't harp on the problems I have with a Hook-Tiger Lilly romantic side plot-line but just know that I do. not. approve.

The last thing I will complain about is the CGI. I really don't know a lot about graphics so it should say a lot that I noticed how weird they were. They instantly felt outdated, like CGI used for television. The friend I went with said afterwards that she has seen better graphics in cut scenes in video games. It must be hard to do CGI because technology moves so fast, and so many movies are pouring an unreasonably large amount of money for top of the line graphics. Movies can't afford to budget their special effects, it ages the movie so fast. It's like seeing a movie made today featuring flip phones. It just feels cheap and cheesy even if I know it is not.

I will give props to a few who deserve it. Levi Miller (Peter) is properly adorable and offers a good bit of character development from beginning to end. Always a sucker for handsome, aloof, bad-boys I appreciated Garrett Hedlund (James Hook) and I think he will probably get picked up for other roles because of his work in this movie. Adeel Akhtar plays Smie and is endearing and hilarious in that spineless coward sort of way. Jacqueline Durran designed amazing costumes and if you like costumes and she's not on your radar, immediately look her up. She's great and wonderful and fantastic, especially for period pieces.

This movie, if it has done well enough, will be a franchise. That's what I saw at the end of the movie, anyway. They are setting us up for more, but I desperately don't want more of what I have just seen. Other reviews seem to agree which means we may be in one of those instances like the Jim Carry Series of Unfortunate Events which was so abysmally bad they gave up on the series. We may never find out what happens between Peter and Hook that tears their friendship apart and turns them into mortal enemies. Which is a real bummer, 'cause I'd paid to see it. I mean, I already tried.

The Martian: Matt Damon is a Badass

Earlier this week I saw The Martian after a good friend of mine recommended it. Space stuff kind of freaks me out in a don't-think-too-hard-about-infinite-universe-for-too-long kind of way. So I hadn't really paid attention to the hype until I started hearing about how funny it was.

I was taken by surprise by this characteristic of the film. I kept hearing, over and over again, how much humor was in it. Wasn't this a disaster movie? A survival movie? A space-things-gone-wrong movie? An on-the-verge-of-death-the-whole-movie movie? So naturally I had to see it.

It is a funny movie.

It is also a thrilling movie, an inspiring movie, a touching movie, and a nerdy science movie.

I like to think I'm a pretty chill movie watcher. I don't spend very many movies feeling like I'm going to fall forward off the edge of my seat. I'm not nervously chomping my nails or clutching my heart. Usually. The Martian, however, is a jaw clenching, fist squeezing, heart pounding, breath stopping roller coaster basically from the word go. The first scene alone on Mars, Mark Watney (Matt Damon) performs minor surgery on himself--but now that I think about it, I should think that any surgery you must perform on yourself becomes major surgery. If you've ever had any weirdness towards medical procedures like I have-- such as an aversion to needles-- you know the feeling of anxiety right before a needle pricks you. The shortness of breath and the racing heartbeat that comes when you see the needle approach your exposed skin. Now imagine the needle is a rod, and it's already in you, and you have to take it out, and then sew yourself up with a glorified staple gun. Okay, now do it on Mars. This scene really set the tone for the movie. It's the only part of the movie that made me cringe at the gore, but the anxiety you feel during that scene is present for the rest of the movie.

It's also an inspiring movie. This guy is doing what is seemingly impossible. The movie is essentially a survival story and Mark Watney is really excellent at surviving. It's going to sound banal but I really enjoyed watching someone be really smart, and clever, and competent. It was really satisfying watching someone approach obstacles with intelligence and succeeding. I think plots often rely too heavily on the emotional, intellectual, or psychological struggle of characters to the point where the audience is overwhelmed with the feeling that the character(s) can't do anything right/ are totally inept. Too many times have I been sitting there and thinking, if only they talked to each other/ looked under the bed/ stopped an thought about the problem at hand, the movie would work out so much better. Before you tell me that character struggles and character flaws are a key ingredient in story telling, let me show you why you are wrong. Sherlock Holmes, Odysseus, Hermione, Doctor House, Tony Stark, The Doctor, Matilda, Miss Marple-- we like these characters because things come easily to them. Not that they don't face challenges, or that they don't have character flaws (looking at you, Stark), but they they overcome hurdles easily. They aren't bumbling and neither is Mark Watney. Which is why he is an inspiring character.

Not that this movie isn't without depth. I find that throughout the movie I feel for each of the characters. I get an appropriate level of emotional reality from each of the actors on screen. Matt Damon delivers a superb performance, as usual finding the right mixture of humor and emotional depth throughout the film. His delivery of some of the funnier lines in the film are laugh out loud hilarious, and in the same token, the more serious scenes are preformed so beautifully as to be heartbreaking. Other noteworthy touching performances are given by Jessica Chastain, Michael Pena, Sean Bean, and Chiwetel Ejiofor.

In the end this movie is another nerdy science movie. It joins the ranks of Apollo 13, Interstellar, and Gravity, among others. The Martian gives you an alternative reality (or perhaps a small leap into the future) where our space program excels and our exploration into space is furthered. I appreciate this movie for being properly smart and nerdy. I could see this movie becoming a film that inspires people to look towards the stars with more than a passing thought. Perhaps it will inspire a new respect for our space program or inspire future astrophysicists. In any case, I really enjoyed it and I didn't even worry about infinite universe stuff while I was watching it.

I think I'll read the book.

A Silver Medal for The Woman in Gold

Tonight I finally took the time to sit down and watch Woman in Gold. I had been meaning to see this film since it was in movie theaters, but as occasionally happens with films, I just never got around to it. After a few months it slipped out of my immediate consciousness and my intentions were filed into the dustier parts of my brain. I may never have remembered to follow up on watching Woman in Gold if I hadn't watched the trailer on the DVD of The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel a month ago and added it to my Netflix queue.

Courtroom dramas, Nazi dramas, and art history dramas are not genres I usually go in for. Give me a solid crime thriller (The Lincoln Lawyer, Primal Fear), a WWII action (Inglourious Basterds, Saving Private Ryan), or a archaeological adventure (Sahara, National Treasure) and I am so in. The slower pace of a movie like Woman in Gold doesn't always hold the same draw for me. However, I will watch almost anything if it's got Helen Mirren in it, so Woman in Gold piqued my interest.

The story is based on the real lives of Maria Altmann (Helen Mirren) and Randol Schoenberg (Ryan Reynolds), jumping between pre-World War Two Austria and the late nineties. In the pre-WWII scenes we see Maria (and her friends and family) struggle to navigate the hostile socio-political climate for Jews like herself in Austria which ultimately leads to her harrowing escape to America. In the nineties scenes Maria is an old woman who has enlisted Randol to help her get back a painting of her aunt done by Gustav Klimt that was stolen by Nazis. The painting, referred to as The Woman in Gold, is hanging in the Belvedere Gallery in Vienna, Austria. Maria and Randol visit Vienna after hearing about an art restitution program that is happening in Austria. Given Klimt's notoriety as an Austrian artist, the Austrian government denies Maria's restitution. Randol and Maria return to the US and formulate a legal case against the government of Austria that makes it all the way into the Supreme Court. The United States Supreme Court rules that Maria is able to create a lawsuit against the Austrian government. When the government of Austria tries to negotiate with Maria and Randol, Randol agrees to arbitration. Back in Vienna the arbitrators side with Maria Altmann and she is awarded an array of paintings including The Woman in Gold.

This movie is really a story of recognition. Maria Altman wants the Austrian government to recognize that they acquired these paintings illegally, that her family and herself suffered at the hands of Nazis, and that their personal history was erased for the sake of national pride. Although the story is especially dramatic--it involving a US Supreme Court case, Gustav Klimt, and it ends with success-- instances like these are unfortunately common. The Nazis were prolific in their plundering of cultural, artistic, and literary artifacts. The end of the movie reminds the audience of this, asking for recognition for the families whose heritage was never returned to them.

Helen Mirren's performance is blessedly beautiful. Again, I should say that I could watch Helen Mirren say the alphabet backwards and I would consider it a standout delivery. Ryan Reynolds also gives a somewhat surprisingly good performance. I say somewhat surprisingly good performance because I can never nail this guy down. He's been in about every genre of movie conceivable and within those genres he's been in both absolutely atrocious and absolutely awesome movies. Occasionally I get my hopes up and am disappointed by him, but sometimes I underestimate him, like today, and am pleasantly surprised.

Overall, it is a nice movie, a pleasant movie. It doesn't have too much of anything in it. Not too dramatic, not too funny, not too much action. It's an easily digestible film. It gives your brain a little bit to think about, but not too much, and it is properly heart-warming without being tearful.

New Procedurals: The Player and Rosewood

Are procedurals my favorite kind of television? That’s a hard question to answer. Have I watched a lot of procedurals and am I most likely to watch procedurals more than any other genre of television? An easier question to answer in the affirmative.

Procedurals are beautiful because they are simple, like a daisy. They are most notable for their formulaic episodes. And although they are similar in format, they can span a variety of other genres—comedy, action, drama, science fiction—and subgenres—police procedurals, medical procedurals, supernatural procedurals. There is a procedural out there for everyone.

Although there may be a season or series long story arch, every episode to some extent stands alone. Every episode relays one crime, one case, one client. Something happens, an obvious suspect or solution is found, that obvious route turns out to be wrong, and a less obvious, shocking twist is revealed to be the right suspect or solution. This formula, being as it is so popular, has been transferred to spy procedurals (The Avengers, Man from U.N.C.L.E., Burn Notice, Chuck), medical procedurals (House, Royal Pains, Grey’s Anatomy, Private Practice), and supernatural/science fiction procedurals (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Supernatural, Daredevil, The X Files, Torchwood, Lost Girl). But my favorite, and perhaps everyone’s favorite, is the police procedural.

Police procedurals have been popular since the beginnings of television and they will probably still be playing as the last post-apocalyptic television loses its final surge of power and flickers off. New police procedurals are made every year, with half-hearted attempts at originality. But originality isn’t what makes police procedurals popular. They are a dime a dozen, and we literally consume them by the dozens. Columbo, Murder She Wrote, NCIS, Law and Order, Monk, Elementary, The Mentalist, Cold Case, Psych, Criminal Minds, Lie to Me, CSI, Castle, Bones, White Collar—and many more are some of the most popular television shows of their time. Some are so successful that they inspire spin-offs and some are immortalized through syndication. Who hasn’t found themselves up late at night eating ice cream out of the container and watching reruns of CSI. I could be in another room entirely, half listening to the television in the background, only get about two notes of the Law & Order theme song, and I would know exactly what show is playing. These shows have become legendary and every year networks try to recreate their successes.

So far this fall I have seen two new procedurals, The Player and Rosewood. Many other favorites are back, such as NCIS, Castle, The Mysteries of Laura, Law and Order: SVU, and Criminal Minds, among others. I would categorize these two new series very simply as, unsuccessful and successful.

The Player is unsuccessful. It is a spy procedural based on the premise that some British woman and Wesley Snipes know EVERYTHING that is happening EVERYWHERE in the world at ALL TIMES and then let rich people gamble on what might happen next. Thus enters our strapping lead, Alex Kane (played by Philip Winchester), who is as far as I can tell a poor man’s Michael Westen (Jeffrey Donovan) of Burn Notice. Alex Kane is an ex-spy (like Michael Westen) who has done some pretty unforgivable spy shit (like Michael Westen) and now works as a freelance badass and protector of the people (like Michael Westen) who is forced to work unwillingly for a mysterious international organization (like Michael Westen) in order to find out what has happened to his life (like Michael Westen). If you are starting to think that the show sounds like a carbon copy of Burn Notice, the similarities stop there. There is no badass girl sidekick (yet?) or comedic relief sidekick (yet?), to the deficit of the series. Alex Kane also is less sexy, less charismatic, less funny, and less compelling than Michael Westen. Philip Winchester breathes no life into his character, and the character becomes a two dimensional cardboard cut-out of a jock you knew in high school who never spoke in anything but monosyllabic words and struggled with anger issues. Maybe I’m being too harsh, but throughout out the pilot I was unmoved by his plight, even in the face of his (ex?) wife’s death.

The writing was bad and the acting was worse, with the exception of Wesley Snipes. Snipes is an established badass and I am positive he can do anything and look cool doing it. I bet if there was a video of him snuggling a tiny kitty cat, everyone would still think he was a badass. But even Wesley Snipes cannot save a ridiculous show like The Player. The show mistakenly believes that it is being revolutionary when it compares the unpredictability of life and humans to the unpredictability of gambling in a casino. But what the writers of the show fail to realize is that the comparison is backwards; that gambling is like life, not that life is like gambling. It’s a chicken and egg scenario, only the show claims that casinos came before human nature.

On the other hand, Rosewood is successful. Besides garnering more viewers than The Player on the night it premiered, Rosewood is simply a better show, if a less inventive (read: far-fetched) one. It is the epitome of a lighthearted police procedural; it is funny, sexy, and charming. It’s funny because the two leads, a medical examiner with an overly optimistic attitude and a cop with a more hardcore, badass exterior, engage in on point banter basically from the moment they meet. It is sexy because it is set in sexy Miami, starring sexy Morris Chestnut and sexy Jaina Lee Ortiz. And it’s charming because Chestnut and Ortiz are clearly having fun with their characters, and that playfulness permeates the show.

Although the show is promising because it fits the mold of a successful procedural without contrived originality (it has the same medical examiner/detective dynamic as Forever without the painfully forced supernatural element), it may suffer if the writing and acting cannot compete with what is already out there. Existing shows like Bones, which is ironically on the same network, may beat out Rosewood simply because those characters and the relationships of those characters are better established. On the other hand, Bones is entering its 11 season, and I would not be surprised if Fox is testing the waters for the end of Bones, with the intention of a Rosewood takeover.

In any case, there were some rocky elements to the pilot that I think could have been written more delicately. I could have done without the melodrama dropped ungracefully throughout the otherwise witty, fast-paced episode. Presumably that was put there to make the audience care about these characters and their budding relationship, but it just seemed clunky. The last scene especially was crow-barred in what appeared to be an attempt to assure the audience that their relationship is not romantic—although I’m not ruling that out as a future plot point.

I was glad there was diversity in the form of a black lead, a female lead, and two lesbian supporting characters. Viola Davis’ recent Emmy speech was fresh in my mind while I watched Morris Chestnut move away from his previously long list of supporting roles to leading man and title character. There are a few racially diverse sidekicks in police procedurals—Laz Alonso in Mysteries of Laura, Dule Hill in Psych, LL Cool J in NCIS: LA—but scarcely any leads. Although I will always be in favor of badass lady cops like Jaina Lee Ortiz, and although I think there has been a lot of progress in gender parity in television recently, and although I think way more progress needs to happen before women roles in popular media are fully realized, I am putting my militant feminist agenda aside for the moment to celebrate Morris Chestnut, Lorraine Toussaint, and Gabrielle Dennis.

Overall, I enjoyed Rosewood. It was simple and beautiful, like a daisy. It was familiar and I think it will do well within the rest of the procedural canon. I will have to see if The Player can win me over in the next few episodes, before I will abandon it entirely.

Fall Premieres: A Mixed Bag

Fall shows have been amping up the last two weeks and I can hardly keep up with all the new shows. I've watched a lot of TV in the last week trying to keep up, and there are yet still more shows clogging up my DVR. So for efficiency's sake, I'm going to summarize my first impressions of a few of the new seasons and the new series I've seen so far.

Late Show with Stephen Colbert:

I think everyone who ever watched the Colbert Report or saw clips of Stephen Colbert in the last ten years has been curious of what the man is like when the cameras are off. He certainly is as liberal minded as the rest of the liberal elitist news media (The Daily Show with Jon Stewart (RIP), Last Week Tonight with John Oliver, The Huffington Post, etc.) We all knew what Colbert's politics had to be given the heavy handed satire he dished out nightly for nearly ten years. But what was he like when he was just Stephen?

Now we get to see Stephen Colbert cast in a more genuine light, although as with all public celebrities, I have no doubt this is just another iteration of the "real" Colbert. My first reaction was, besides the lack of overt and ridiculous conservative remarks, that he's really not that different. He's still charming, funny, and as handsome as ever. Possibly even more handsome actually because if anything he seems more at ease. The biggest difference is that now he hosts a different show. The format for the Late Show was crystallized decades ago and besides the normal evolution of talk shows, Colbert has stuck with it's basic template. The ranks of our night time talk show hosts are getting pretty impressive, but I have no doubt that Stephen Colbert will fit right in.


Best Time Ever with Neil Patrick Harris:

This show is just plain ridiculous. It is as if Ellen and Oprah were thrown in a cocktail shaker and Let's Make a Deal was used as the garnish. Audience members are receiving prizes and trips to Tahiti like it's the end of the world, A-list celebrities are performing bizarre tasks like zip-lining, and Neil Patrick Harris is doing acrobatics like he is an extra for Cirque Du Soleil. Hosted by Harris, as far as I can tell, he basically spends an hour doing whatever he or the pack of producers want to do, including embarrassing celebrities and audience members alike and throwing around money like it is on fire. Harris is either going bankrupt to produce this show, or he is calling in a lot of favors.

Unfortunately the show itself has about as much attention span as a two year old and thus the staying power of maybe a season. It doesn't give its audience enough credit to pay attention for more than 30 seconds, which is unfortunate because with the plethora of high quality variety and talk shows out there, we have become smart consumers of dumb television. We are not impressed by your kitschy camera tricks and flashing lights; we want substance. I will be surprised if the show lasts long. The whole time I sat stunned, repeating, "What is this show?" out loud over and over again like a crazy person. Once it was over I was struck by two thoughts: 1. I never need to see that again and 2. I will not remember this as soon as I turn off the TV.


The Muppets:

Oh God, I wanted to like the new Muppets show so badly. So far as I can tell it is centered on the cast of the original Muppets producing a late night talk show with Miss Piggy as the star, Kermit as the producer, Fozzy as the comedian-sidekick-announcer, Dr. Teeth and The Electric Mayhem as the house band, and the rest of the cast as various members of the production team. In some ways, the new series mirrors the original show in terms of the roles of the characters in putting on a show; Scooter was and still is the dopey production assistant, for example. Except now they are creating a late night talk show as opposed to a goofy variety show.

Perhaps my hopes were too high. Maybe I had unrealistic expectations. The fact of the matter is that the show wasn’t really terrible. It just wasn’t successful. It missed the mark in almost every scene. The worst part was that the writers of the new show were close enough that the audience knew their intentions, they just couldn’t quite stick the landing.

I am really hoping the creators of the show get their stuff together because so many people were excited for The Muppets to be back on TV. If only for the sake of the franchise's future, they need to sort themselves out. It's almost as if the Muppets and Best Time Ever with Neil Patrick Harris got their formats swapped. Muppets, you go back to doing wacky, campy variety shows, and NPH, you go back to doing sitcoms.


The Voice:

The Voice is back. Blind auditions are here and I have been furiously fast-forwarding through the sentimental parts to get to the singing and the chair-turning (or lack thereof).

I have never been a huge fan of talent shows, much to the chagrin of my ex who was obsessed with them and made me squirm through countless episodes of America's Got (No Damn) Talent until we broke up and I was finally free of freaking dog gymnastics. I did go through a pre-teen phase of enjoying American Idol when it was first popular and I would call and vote for the cutest guy on the show. My mom and I spent a couple years watching Dancing with the Stars when I was in high school, but that was more about seeing the stars than appreciating the dancing. After a while talent shows become too formulaic for me, and I'm stuck banging my head against a wall as they slowly eliminate all my favorite performers until by the finale I am left with someone I hate and someone I have convinced myself out of desperation that I like. Meanwhile, while all of this is happening, some cranky British man is slowly disintegrating my soul.

The Voice has been touted as unique since its inception. The blind auditions are supposed to remove a judge's biases based on looks so that *The Voice* is what matters in deciding if singers stay or go. A few minutes of critical thinking, however, is all viewer needs to see right through this. First of all, these aren't just people picked off the street. There are auditions for The Blind Auditions, wherein a potential contestant is vetted by producers. Show runners pick the first wave of performers based on backstory, voice, and *of course* looks. They *of course* pick a few people whose looks don't match their voices just to add drama to the blind auditions. In this season so far Jordan Smith and Siahna Im are the most notable examples of this that come to mind. They are incredible singers with uncommon voices and as soon as the judges turn around, the show confirms that it is blind to the look of an artist. Well, as long as you forget that they were planted by producers.

This may sound like I don't give the artists enough credit. On the contrary, Jordan Smith, who the audience also didn't get to see until he was revealed to the judges, was one of my favorite artists of the first week. The gimmick (and I've already established that I love gimmicks) is used to surprise the audience when it is revealed who the face is behind the voice. But a smart viewer (in this case, listener) knows that the show runners want to create the most dramatic reveal; so if an effeminate voice is singing a Sia song it doesn't take a huge mental leap to guess that it's a man singing. But if you allow yourself to recognize the gimmick and accept the gimmick, you can enjoy the gimmick and the rest of the show.

Surprise reveals and sentimental back stories aside, the first few weeks of this show are less about the singers for me. I find myself fast-forwarding past the emotional backstories just to see whether or not the contestants are any good in my opinion, whether or not the judges turn their chairs, and whether or not Adam Levine has to beg for people to join his team. This season’s judges consist of Blake Shelton, Adam Levine, Gwen Stefani, and Pharrell Williams. I’ve always been impressed by the judges on The Voice. They are active members of the industry for which they serve as gate keepers for contestants. This makes their feedback, their advice, and their interactions with the contestants feel legitimate. Since a judge becomes the coach of the contestants they choose to endorse (if the contestants choose to join their team) the process feels more like a collaboration among artists, rather than a judgement handed down by an apathetic god.


Scream Queens:

I really didn't know what to expect from this show. I wasn't even sure I was going to actually watch it when I first heard about it. Within the first thirty seconds of watching the skeptic inside of me had raised my eyebrows so high, they had become part of my normal hairline. The show centers around a sorority, in particular the evil sorority president who is unabashedly racist within the first five minutes. The whole show is based on increasingly ridiculous, far-fetched premises. This show is what I imagine Glee and Pretty Little Liars would be like if they were fused together, but honestly I don't know because I never saw either.

Speaking of Glee, Jamie Lee Curtis, the suspicious, hard-ass Dean of the college is simply the new Jane Lynch from Glee. They even have the same hair cut. I wanted to love Jamie Lee Curtis but her character's strong, feminist, anti-sorority personality felt just as catty and vicious as the sorority president's. I was happy, therefore, once I realized that all of the characters in this show are written as suspects in a serial murder plot, and I was able to accept her evil overtones. At one point she says very sternly, "I'm going to barf on your face unless you get out of here". That's when I was truly sold on her character.

Nasim Pedrad who plays the spacey house mother (who was definitely involved in the 1995 incident which starts the show) is the best part of the show so far. The show is supposed to be a comedy and she is the only one who is able to truly convey that properly.

Another highlight of the pilot was the first encounter with the fraternity brother Nick Jonas and Glen Powell. It was possibly the most hysterical continuous scene of the first two episodes (aired together). The scene ended with Glen Powell's character, Chad Radwell, saying, "We're just trying to have a nice day hitting gold balls at hippies." As a hippy I cackled at that line.

As for the rest of the cast, I would say they are pretty forgettable so far. Most of the sorority girls blend together in an amalgamation of blonde, blue eyed, petite femininity, so that I can hardly keep them straight. This includes the freshman who the audience is supposed to side with morally. The newer sorority members are intentionally diverse, created by the writers to be a rag-tag team meant to be funny more than anything. The show creators didn't include an Asian American lesbian to the show to be diverse--they do it because it is "funny", only it isn't really.

Overall the comedy aspect of the show struggles to find the humor, which is equal parts due to the writing and the acting. The script is certainly flawed, but if Nasim Pedrad can land her jokes, other people should be able to as well. The horror/drama is properly campy yet intriguing and that may be what keeps the audience watching. I did finish the two hour finale intending to continue watching, if only to find out who the killer is.


And thus ends my first wave of fall premieres' thoughts. If I have additional thoughts on any of these shows in the future, I will keep you updated. My next article will be about the new seasons and series of crime procedurals that have premiered in the last couple of weeks. Stay tuned.

Cutthroat Alton

In my experience it is only when there is something important or urgent that must be accomplished that one becomes the most efficient consumer of media. This is when making a new Spotify playlist of all the songs you’ve looked up on Shazam, starting a new television series you’ve never heard of, catching up on celebrity gossip you don’t really care about, and browsing subpar romantic comedies on Netflix are of the utmost importance. This is how I found myself, with more than enough real, time-sensitive, life-changing, adult tasks to take care of, watching almost an entire season of Cutthroat Kitchen on Netflix this week.

A while ago I discovered Cutthroat Kitchen while working out at the gym. Working out at the gym is basically the only time I ever think to watch the Food Network live. I see the irony here, but I know I’m not the only one. When I stroll past banks of elliptical machines, treadmills, and stationary bikes at my local gym I see four primary genres of television. These are cooking shows, home make-over shows, sports, and crime procedurals. I hardly count the crime procedurals because every other channel is playing some old rerun of a crime procedural like CSI, Law and Order, or NCIS (I’m looking at you USA Network). Sports television I actually find more ironic than food television because the suburban dad with the beer gut sweating profusely through some old band t-shirt intently watching Serena and Venus Williams go head to head recently made me bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing out loud. This is not to say that watching sports television is inherently stupid (I’m *not* not saying that either, but that’s another issue entirely). I just think it’s more than a bit silly for us mere mortals to work tiredly to stave off the impending muffin top while watching people in the very literal best shape of their lives run around tirelessly faster (and thinner) than we ever will be.

Home make-over shows and cooking shows watched at the gym make sense to me (and that’s not just the second X chromosome, thank you very much). It’s hard to run while you are panting and sweating and thinking about all the ways you could fall off of the piece of equipment and embarrass yourself-- and then also focus on a plot. This opens up the market for television shows that don’t have a plot (putting aside the standard crime show procedurals with their single, recycled plots). The home make-over shows are great for that. Step one: the house is a wreck. Step two: let’s fix the house (insert gimmicks where necessary). Step three: everything is falling apart, oh my goodness, it’ll never get done in time. Step four: the house is done in time. Step five: scream, cry, clap, open champagne, etc. You can enter or exit the show at any point during this cycle knowing that these things will all eventually happen in due time.

This brings me to the Food Network. Cooking shows often have a similar formulaic nature that home make-over shows have, just with more variety in potential gimmicks. There are sub-genres in cooking shows. There are the tutorial shows that walk you through a recipe you have no intent, or even interest, in actually making; think Rachel Ray, Paula Deen. These are the most embarrassing to watch in a public place like the gym because even if you would never even consider indulging in that much butter, the people around you judge you like you do. Then there are the shows that take you around to different places and show you all the gross/good food out there in the world; think Anthony Bourdain (listen to his self-narrated memoir on audiobook), Guy Fieri, Adam Richman. These are good if you are grossed out easily or don’t get out much because they usually include either someone eating something really bizarre or something really foreign. Then there is everyone’s favorite subgenre of cooking shows: cooking competitions.

Cooking competition shows have always been a big hit, thanks mostly to Iron Chef’s precedent. Starting in 1993, it is the first example I know of a cooking show that pitted chef’s against each other. It is not very often that a Japanese television show (that is not animated), is successful enough and culturally transferable enough to make it all the way across the expansive Pacific ocean, but Iron Chef hit the jackpot with an untapped market of sadists interested in watching chefs struggle to find an elevated way to prepare a secret ingredient like... elk. Since its initial fame, countless competition shows have been produced. There is a reason why cooking competition shows are so popular and that is because people are sick. And no one is sicker than Alton Brown.

I love Alton Brown. Alton Brown was the first celebrity chef I was true fan of. In 1998 the wacky, funny, nerdy, and occasionally gimmicky Good Eats first premiered. For nearly 14 years that show became a true cooking show classic in my mind. When I first saw the show years ago, I became instantly hooked on this host who I had never heard of before. He was funny, and for me funny has always meant gold. Alton Brown was the first celebrity chef whose career I kept track of. I was not, and still am not, a cooking show aficionado but he seemed like someone I should look out for. When he moved over to the Iron Chef America he revealed that not only was he a funny show host, he was a funny commentator and master of ceremonies. I don’t think he, or anyone else, ever looked back after that.

Okay, I have to admit before we continue that before a few months ago Chef Brown had fallen off my radar a bit over the last few years. Once hooked on one celebrity chef, I found I easily became enthralled in the lives and work of other celebrity chefs. What I’m saying is Alton Brown was my gateway chef. I now have a small group of chefs I keep an eye on, most notably Anthony Bourdain and Gordon Ramsay. It’s hard to miss Chefs Bourdain and Ramsay, and after reading Bourdain’s memoir and being introduced MasterChef (and MasterChef Junior) those chefs dominated my celebrity chef mental space. Chef Brown is less controversial, less prone to stir up trouble, and apparently he has been producing a hysterical cooking competition show for a couple years without me even noticing it. But about nine months ago I discovered Cutthroat Kitchen and I’m back on the Alton Brown bandwagon.

Before this becomes a love letter to Alton Brown, my first celebrity chef love, let’s address his current endeavor, Cutthroat Kitchen. Cutthroat Kitchen is hosted by Alton Brown and features four chefs who must prove they are the best chef of the group. There are three rounds and each round one chef gets eliminated by a judge who is either a chef, food writer, or restauranteur. A pretty standard cooking competition by the looks of it; it’s more like Chopped than MasterChef because each episode stands alone with new chefs every time. The gimmick, and oh my gosh do I love gimmicks, is that Alton Brown spends the entire competition encouraging the contestants to purchase sabotages for their rival chefs. The chefs get a limited stack of cash (if you consider $25K “limited”) and the winner at the end of it all gets to keep whatever money they have left after the bidding and culinary wars are over. This catch-22 for competitors is what makes this show such a delight and it is also what makes this show’s host such a maniac.

In my naive imagination this concept is all Alton Brown’s sick creation and not some faceless producer’s brainchild. Maybe that is the case and maybe it is not, but either way it is a brilliant show and it proves just what an eccentric Alton Brown is. I know I’m bordering on love letter again, but Chef Brown pulls off the saboteuring host so well. I find myself cackling along with him as he reveals the next mélange of sick and twisted obstacles, practically clapping with giddy glee. I imagine Alton Brown late at night, alone in the kitchen, looking sinister as he rubs his hands together thinking of the next deluge of challenges.

In the end I was able to finish all that I needed to get done this week, even with Alton Brown's show distracting me. To celebrate I think I'll watch another episode.

Friggin' "A": The Walking Dead

I just finished season four of The Walking Dead. I realize it might not be particularly relevant to be discussing my thoughts about a season that ended in March 2014, especially since an entirely new season has been released since, but I have been watching on Netflix and season five isn't slated to to be released online until the end of this month. Once that happens I figure I will have a couple weeks to binge watch season five before season six premieres on October 11. I also wanted to finish season four before I started watching the spin off series Fear the Walking Dead which premiered last month.

I seem to be a late bloomer in regards to most television shows. It was *seven years* after Buffy the Vampire Slayer *ended* before I discovered that show. It wasn't until a movie spin off was made (Serenity) that I discovered Firefly. Parks and Rec, The Office, How I Met Your Mother, and 30 Rock I started watching on Netflix when the shows were already seasons deep. I actually remember watching the first episode of Parks and Rec in 2009, thinking "eh", and not continuing. I did the same thing to Orange is the New Black, not even finishing episode one when it premiered on Netflix, and to this day I have still not looked back. I have not seen Breaking Bad or House of Cards or Community or Girls. If I'm not looking like your best and most knowledgeable cultural guide right now, at least take comfort in the fact that in the past I have always eventually caught up. I promise I will try to stay on top of the trends so that this blog doesn't just become a summary of what everyone was taking about *yesterday*.

Cultural analysts have all sorts of things to say about why zombie movies, television shows, graphic novels, and video games are so popular right now. Human beings seem to cycle through a variety of classic antagonists, themes, and character archetypes depending on the mood of the time. There is a reason I, as a Californian watching every plant in my garden keel over and die in the current drought, found Mad Max: Fury Road so appealing. This is a version of my future life that frightens me, and that which frightens us in reality excites us in fiction. Zombies, depending on the medium, represent all sorts of human fears and flaws. Whether it is a representation of the fear of world wide pandemics, a commentary on modern day consumerism, or a imagination of a post-nuclear world, zombies are general enough to tackle all of these issues.

Unlike vampires, werewolves, and other fantasy creatures, two things about zombies make them eternally fascinating. The first is simply that they are so broad. There are no rules in zombie world building. Writers are not restricted by night time, or fang bites, or full moons, or false identities. They are not restricted by the ways in which the outbreak begins or how it spreads or even how to deal with it. Zombies can be fast or they can be slow, they can be interested in brains or they can be interested in more generalized mayhem. No one has ever left a movie theater or turned off the television after watching something with zombies in it and said, "That's not how zombies work!" Because they are so broad and can represent so many different things, they are flexible to the culture that is consuming their story lines. As the culture changes, the zombies change with it, and they remain universally relevant and universally terrifying.

The other thing that makes them unique from other popular supernatural creatures is that you cannot sexualize a zombie. You cannot. I think they might have tried in Warm Bodies (2013), but the whole point of that movie was that he got cuter the less zombie-fied he became. Just to be sure, I did a quick Google search of "sexy zombies". That did not reveal a part of human sexuality I care to discuss further. "Sexy zombie movies" did not uncover any more pleasant results. You've been warned. Zombies are always gross and they are always terrifying. This is not the case for vampires who *from their inception* have been sensual creatures, and have continued to be represented as mysterious and sexy (True Blood, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the Twilight series). The same goes for werewolves (True Blood, Teen Wolf, Harry Potter-- or was I the only one who found Lupin just a little bit sexy?). Even Ghosts have sexy counterparts thanks to Patrick Swayze in Ghost. But please, if you know of a movie or television show wherein a sexy zombie is present, let me know. I'd love to see an example of it.

The Walking Dead is near perfect zombie world building, thanks to a great foundation from the Robert Kirkman's comic books. The comic books and show have been, from the very start, obtuse about the origins of this zombie apocalypse. At this point we know that everyone is infected and that as long as your brain is in tact, as soon as you die, you can become a zombie--excuse me, a walker. Other than that, we don't have much to go on besides the introduction of a Texan with a mullet in season four who may or may not have the cure. At first the fact that I didn't know more frustrated me to no end, but while sneaking around the internet for spoilers a few months ago (I know, I am a very bad person), I found out some of the reasons why there are no outright explanations, and now that I know them I feel better about being kept in the dark.

Glen Mazzara, an executive producer of the show for a period of time said in an interview that he had no interest in revealing the cause of the outbreak. In his mind horror relies on a certain amount of ignorance; people fear the unknown. As long as the details of the outbreak are not understood, either by the characters or by the audience, there will continue to be intrigue. This may be disappointing to hear as an audience member, but it also true. If I knew the science side of things, I would not be as fascinated or horrified.

The other explanation about why we still know so little is that that information is irrelevant to the characters we are dealing with. These people are survivors, more concerned with fending off zombies, avoiding other potentially dangerous human beings, and finding food and shelter than with why this is happening. After the CDC incident you get the feeling Rick and friends are about as interested in solving the mystery of the outbreak as they are about curing cancer. They just want to get through the day, maybe even the week, without getting mauled by the undead.

Season four was stunning. After running through season one and two as fast as I could, I stalled in season three. The Governor (David Morrissey) was a two dimensional baddie, the prison made Rick and the rest complacent, and the writing was boring. Season four brought a jolt of electricity back into the show and it was alive once again. Even The Governor held more interest for me. The relationships between unlikely characters began to bloom, small obstacles drove the characters forward, and new faces shook up the dynamics of the core group in refreshing ways. It took a notable amount of will power to log off Netflix and go to bed each night and I continually found that I was negotiating with myself about how many more episodes I could watch in one day. Now that I'm done I can't help but be relieved that I only have to wait a couple of weeks for season five to be on Netflix, and until then I will have to be satisfied with Fear the Walking Dead.

Who's Your U.N.C.L.E.?

Tonight I saw The Man from U.N.C.L.E. with my father. We are both action and spy movie fans; he especially takes great joy in the Cold War era, international spy genre. He's a sucker for James Bond, Get Smart, and The Avengers (no, the other Avengers). He even occasionally goes in for Austin Powers and the less enduring Johnny English. So obviously I had to see U.N.C.L.E. with him.

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. is the epitome of Post-WWII/ Cold War era nostalgia. Ex-Nazis, not-so-ex-fascists, evil scientists, pretty brunettes, nuclear bombs, hard-core Russians, frowny brits, and charming, if a bit over-confident, Americans. The story follows two men, Napoleon Solo (Henry Cavill) and Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer), and one woman, Gaby Teller (Alicia Vikander), as they try to find Gaby's father who is making nuclear warheads for the evil, yet sultry, Victoria Vinciguerra (Elizabeth Debicki) and her Italian fascist husband.

This is a funny movie but it's not Get Smart (the original television show or the newer movie), and it's certainly not Austin Powers or Johnny English. This movie strikes a nice balance between banter and action, without feeling over-done. The jokes don't strike me as manufactured nor does the dialogue seem like sass for the sake of sass. There are a few places where this is not the case. The scene towards the climax where torturer becomes torturee and our heroes stand with their backs to their foe as he is electrocuted and catches on fire unbeknownst to them is just a bit too ridiculous for my tastes. And the line of dialogue wherein Hugh Grant's character says to a grumpy Armie Hammer, "For a special agent, you're not having a very special day, are you?" left me waiting for a buh-dum-tssss. But for the most part the humor was smart and quick-witted enough for me to forgive the more groan-worthy moments.

Besides being two of the tallest and prettiest men in Hollywood today, Henry Cavill and Armie Hammer, were not only disarmingly charming together, they were also quite good at the whole acting thing. I have to admit I have not seen either of them in their most famous works, Man of Steel (Cavill) or Lone Ranger (Hammer), but I am certain that their performances in U.N.C.L.E. will garner them even more fame. I hope as actors they worked together well, because on screen their characters' chemistry is dynamic.

For having just about every accent in the western world represented in this film, our two leads did a fair job being convincingly American (Cavill) and appropriately Russian (Hammer). In fact, I am moderately baffled that Henry Cavill is not American, but British, because he does so beautifully encapsulate the All-American vibe (see Man of Steel). But then again his name is Henry Cavill which one can hardly say without donning a high class British accent. If his name was Hank Carville there would be no convincing me he wasn't American. Armie Hammer, whose name will always remind me of baking soda, sounds like any Russian speaking English does to me-- a bit ridiculous. This is not to say he didn't do a stellar job-- or that he did-- because I honestly don't have a clue if he pulled it off. If you can imagine the most stereotypical Russian accent then you've got Armie Hammer's accent in a nutshell. But then again, I've heard actual Russians speak and I'll tell you from personal experiences that the stereotype in this case exists for good reason.

Gaby Teller (Alicia Vikander) was a joy from the moment she came on screen. Any girl who can work as a car mechanic while still being sassy and looking great, can have my heart on a silver platter. Are there moments where she is flat and unforgettable? Yes, unfortunately. On more than a few occasions she is over shadowed by the two lead males. This is not surprising and it really isn't too disappointing. She has some fantastic moments, driving in a car chase, dancing in her pajamas, knocking over a 6'5" Russian Armie Hammer, keeping cool under pressure during the biggest plot twist of the movie.

I love an evil dame, and Elizabeth Debicki delivers with her performance as the wife of a fascist and main antagonist. The fascist himself left something to be desired, giving me the impression that although the writers (Guy Ritchie and Lionel Wigram) knew they wanted our baddie to be a ball busting babe, they also figured it was impractical that a woman during this time period would have the resources to corral an evil scientist *and* distribute nuclear weapons. So they gave her a husband with an inheritance and almost immediately informed the audience that although the husband is bankrolling this, Victoria is the real brains of the operations. The best part of the husband is his last name-- Vinciguerra-- literally translated from Italian to "WIN WAR". Of course he's an evil fascist. Elizabeth Debicki does an outstanding job being evil and brilliant while also looking stunning. Her black and white dress for the climax of the film was so good that for a period of time I wasn't even listening to the dialogue because I was so in awe of her elegance. Also, whoever did her makeup for the movie deserves an Oscar, and yes I know they actually give out Oscars for makeup, and no I am not kidding.

The costumes for this production were consistently amazing, reminding me that the 60's were just about the best era for jewelry and fashion and that we should return immediately to chunky necklaces and bold prints. Maybe it's just *the men* in the suits, but both Henry Cavill and Armie Hammer seemed to me to be impeccably costumed, Cavill in rich suits he can supposedly only afford through his extralegal activities and Armie Hammer in more reserved turtlenecks and a news boy hat.

Overall the movie was everything I could have hoped for in a 60's style, international spy movie. It had pretty men, pretty women, pretty clothes, some drinking, some shooting, some car chases, drama, comedy, action, and a little bit of romance. If you are still one of us who bypasses Daniel Craig and Pierce Brosnan for a more refined James Bond, if you enjoyed the wave of spy television series in the 60's, or if you are just looking for an action movie with some intelligence this just might be the film for you.