I'm just going to say it upfront: I'm hating Julie's storyline.
I always like to give Friday Night Lights the benefit of the doubt when it comes to storytelling (except, maybe, for the murder conspiracy storyline in Season Two), but the weakness of the current college plot for Julie Taylor (Aimee Teegarden) was all the more apparent this week when it was juxtaposed with the strength and grace of the storyline for Vince (Michael B. Jordan).
This week's episode of Friday Night Lights ("The Right Hand of the Father"), written by Patrick Massett and John Zinman and directed by David Boyd, attempted to balance the two plots, as well as a third about striving to be a better person in light of last week's disastrous party and the drunken behavior of Maura (Denise Williamson) but it didn't quite all come together for me in the end, due to the lackluster nature of that Julie subplot.
Which is a bit of a disappointment, as Jordan's Vince delivered some powerful and affecting scenes in which he attempted to balance the expectations placed on him by Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler) and his father, newly released from prison, with his own bruised feelings and innate needs. Viewed within those contexts, the episode was a resounding success as it followed what could have been a familiar plot trajectory and instead made it is own, exploring whether we can change as human beings and how much change we're capable of achieving.
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"You may not have my name, but you have my blood."
Matters of life and death hung over this week's episode of Game of Thrones ("The Kingsroad"), written by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss and directed by Tim Van Patten, in which Bran Stark--nearly killed from his fall--hovered uneasily after nearly shuffling off his mortal coil, thanks to the Lannisters. While Jaime and Cersei--so careful to protect their secret--didn't hesitate to silence young Bran, their treachery is now doubly dangerous as the fall didn't kill the little climber of Winterfell.
But as Bran lies motionless in his room, change is taking place all around him: Ned leaves for King's Landing, where he will serve as the Hand of the King, and takes his daughters Arya and Sansa with him; Jon Snow heads north for the Wall, where he will take the black and become one of the sworn brothers of the Night's Watch; Robb steps forward and assumes the lordship of Winterfell in his father's absence.
A family is split down the seams, as Catelyn tries to keep her vigil over her broken son, his eyes closed deep in slumber, his body unmoving. But even as she and Bran remain constant in that room, unmoving, unchanging, everyone else around them is pulled forward with a significant momentum, traveling north or south as the crow flies. One can't shake the feeling that time may be the cruelest enemy of them all.
(Aside: speaking of the Lannisters, Tyrion is already a favorite, as he is in the novels. I loved his speech to Jaime about speaking on behalf of the grotesques and how death is so final, while life is full of possibility. Add to this the scene in the woods between Jon Snow and the dwarf, in which Tyrion shares his wine and his words, and you begin to see just how intelligent, sly, and humorous this character can be.)
Still, we get a brief glimmer of vulnerability behind Cersei's golden armor, as she recounts the death of her first-born son, a "little black beauty," to Catelyn. There's a sense of keening loss embedded within Cersei's tale, of anger at the world and of her husband's fury when a fever stole their baby boy. Is it guilt that brings Cersei to Bran's bedside or a need to see just what his condition really is? Why is it that she reveals this secret to Catelyn, a calculated effort to gain this woman's sympathy... or something more? The haughtiness of Cersei Lannister melts away in Lena Headey's speech about the birth of her son, a "bird without feathers," as she becomes not queen of the realm but another mother with children to protect. (However, that golden hair, discovered in the tower where Bran fell, makes Catelyn question the queen's kindness...)
Those who felt as though the first episode portrayed the women of Game of Thrones as little more than thralls or sexual playthings should keep watching. And hopefully this episode showed the grit and strength that exists within each of them: from Daenerys' effort to tame her wild beast of a husband, to create some semblance of connection between them during coitus to Catelyn's adrenaline-fueled attack on the assassin who has aims to end Bran's life.
Interestingly, there seems to be a clear parallel between the ruined hands of both Daenerys and Catelyn, occurring at more or less the same time. Daenerys' hands are shredded from gripping the reins of her horse, while Catelyn grabs the blade of the assassin's dagger with her bare hands, her righteous anger--a she-wolf in the moment--driving her to protect her offspring at all costs. Brutal and gut-wrenching, it's a testament to her love for Bran and to the strength that all mothers have in their bones, a savage display of maternal instinct at work.
Of course, it's not Catelyn who finishes off the assassin, but Bran's direwolf, Summer, who comes to his master's aid and rips out the throat of the killer before curling up on Bran's bed. We're beginning to see the beginnings of the rapport between child and animal that I mentioned briefly in my discussion of the first episode, but it's still very surface-level here. We have Summer coming to Bran's aid and Arya's direwolf Nymeria biting Joffrey when he is brutalizing poor Micah, the butcher's boy. (Nymeria's behavior is at contrast with the earlier scene in which Arya tried to get the direwolf to fetch her gloves.)
The direwolves are savage beasts, just as protective of their masters as Catelyn is of Bran, but I'm also still not seeing the emotional connection between the animals and their owners, the sense that they're two halves of the same coin. Arya has to throw rocks at Nymeria to get her to run away (for her own good) and Sansa is panicked when Cersei wants to kill Lady, but it's difficult to show the emotional depth that is truly there in George R.R. Martin's novels. (In fact, it's not even clear in this episode that Jon Snow has brought Ghost with him to the Wall, a question my wife asked me plainly when we watched the episode. And we have no sense of Grey Wind or Shaggydog either.) Still, as in the novel, the death of poor Lady--a sacrifice to Cersei's cruelty and warped sense of justice--hits home. Fittingly, it's Ned who delivers the killing blow rather than allowing this Northern creature to be brutalized by the Hound or the King's Justice, Ser Ilyn Payne.
If there is some sense of simpatico spirit between the Starks and their wolves, what does it mean that two of them have now been separated from their direwolves? Sansa's wolf is dead and Arya's is lost in the woods. And why does Lady's death seem to be the moment in which Bran opens his eyes for the first time since his fall? Hmmm...
Just what will Bran remember from what he saw that day? And what has he been dreaming of during his long slumber? Which of the Lannisters sent that hired blade to dispatch Bran? Why did the killer carry expensive Valyrian steel? And was it a "mercy" killing as the swordsman suggests? These are mysteries that will have to wait as we're left with the stirring image of Bran awakening as we fade to black for the episode.
It's not the only mystery that looms large over the action. I loved the scenes between Jon Snow and Arya, in which he gives her a custom-made sword ("Needle") and says his goodbyes to both her and Bran (and we're given a glimpse of the enmity between Catelyn and Jon), and I'm curious about the identity of Jon's true mother. While Jon asks his father for the truth of her identity and whether she is alive, Ned won't come clean but says that they'll talk of her when next they meet... and he darkens considerably when King Robert starts poking around Ned's past, speaking of his bastard's mother as "Wylla," but not revealing any details about Jon's birth. Just who was Wylla? And why did Ned come home from the war "with another woman's child" in his arms? For Catelyn, Jon Snow is a constant reminder of her husband's unfaithfulness nearly 20 years ago, an emblem of something she'd rather forget.
Still, while Jon and Ned don't share the same name (bastards in the North are routinely given a second name of "Snow"), it's clear that they are made from the same stuff, bound by blood and destiny. They are Starks through and through, the North forever in their blood, no matter what direction their lives might turn. With dark days ahead, something tells me they'll need that strength more than anything...
Next week on Game of Thrones ("Lord Snow"), Ned is shocked to learn of the Crown’s profligacy from his new advisors; Jon Snow impresses Tyrion at the expense of greener recruits; suspicious that the Lannisters had a hand in Bran’s fall, Catelyn covertly follows her husband to King’s Landing, where she is intercepted by Petyr Baelish, aka “Littlefinger,” a shrewd longtime ally and brothel owner; Cersei and Jaime ponder the implications of Bran’s recovery; Arya studies swordsmanship; Daenerys finds herself at odds with Viserys.
"The girl who made that wasn't the pink-bedroom type." - Sarah Linden
How well do we know anyone? Can we ever truly know our spouses, our children? The Rosie Larsen that we seen illuminated in her bedroom--the pink walls, that butterfly motif--is dramatically at odds with the Rosie who shot the Super 8 video that Bennet Ahmed shares with Linden and Holder: it's a much darker Rosie, a truer Rosie. This isn't a little girl capturing the easiness of carefree youth. She sees the skull beneath the skin, even as we see a flock of butterflies connect with Rosie as one of their own.
In this week's episode of The Killing ("Super 8"), written by Jeremy Doner and directed by Phil Abraham, we begin to see that Rosie may not have been as innocent and wholesome as her parents believe her to be. While her teacher Bennet maintains that their relationship wasn't sexual, that the letters were an "intellectual discourse," the possibility that Rosie may have been involved with him skews our image of the victim.
And then there's Bennet. He maintains his own innocence in Rosie's death and in their relationship, which he says was purely professional. But he also doesn't have an alibi for the night of Rosie's death: he tells the cops that he returned home after the dance and his pregnant wife was staying with her sister as their floors were being refinished. (He claims that the company canceled the installation at the last minute.) Bennet is being very helpful--he gives them the Super 8 film Rosie shot--but is he being a little too helpful? Is he trying to distance himself from the frame? After all, he did have access to the Richmond campaign cars...
And who just happens to have a stash of ammonium hydroxide laying around? Bennet Ahmed, as the substance is used in flooring installation. So is Bennet a pro, as Linden suggests? Or is it an unhappy coincidence? Did he use the stuff to cover up his crime? Or was Rosie there at the apartment, helping him install the floor? And why did Bennet cancel the appointment for the following day? Curious...
And then there's Bennet's wife Amber, pregnant with his child. Intriguingly, Amber was once one of Bennet's students and she has a strange and slight similarity, in terms of appearance, to Rosie. Amber says that Bennet often wrote her letters, encouraging her to achieve her dreams. But while that's innocent enough--she claims nothing untoward occurred between them--there's something odd about history repeating itself. He married one of his former students, so why couldn't he have designs on Rosie as well?
This week's episode also continued to show the effect that Rosie's death has had on her family. While we don't have Rosie narrating the plot from beyond the grave, a la The Lovely Bones, her presence--or lack thereof--is keenly felt in everything the family does from Denny's pyjama-clad trip to the store t get some milk to Tommy's bed-wetting incident, as he conceals his urine-soaked pyjamas and sheets in the trash. (I loved the scene where Belko found proof of Tommy's incident and, rather than take it to Stan, furtively bed Tommy's bed with fresh sheets and revealed that he had a bed-wetting problem well into his teens.)
Stan had a breakdown in a garage bathroom, leaving Mitch alone in the car as he let his emotions overwhelm him for a brief moment. He's trying so hard to be strong and unyielding that it was only a matter of time before his true feelings bubbled up to the surface and exploded. Between Rosie's death and Belko's offer to take care of Rosie's killer, he can't escape the truth of his altered existence, post-Rosie. Not surprising that he takes Belko up on his offer to talk to his friend at Rosie's school and find out what the police are investigating over there. (Nothing good can come from this.)
Mitch, meanwhile, experiences a terrible sense of frisson when she sees Denny in the bath, his hair dripping onto the floor. It's a reminder of not only Rosie's horrific end but also that scene in the morgue where she and Stan had to identify their daughter's corpse, her hair streaming out underneath her, rivulets of water dripping into a puddle on the floor. Mitch's freak-out is indicative of psychic damage of the highest order, an inability to separate Rosie's death from their quotidian lives: everything has new meaning, new symbolism now.
What is up with Holder? While he claims he won at gambling, there's something shady about that envelope of cash he receives on the street... and which he places in the mailbox of a house. Are those his wife and kids inside? And why won't he go in or say anything to them? Is our copper sidekick a junkie who is supporting his family from afar? Hmmm...
The various storyline threads also came together a bit this week as Darren Richmond and Mitch Larsen crossed paths in the grocery store. While Darren makes it seem as though this was a chance encounter, it's anything but that, an engineered effort to contain the Rosie Larsen story, which is damaging Darren's campaign chances. But Richmond refuses to use Mitch for his own political ends. He understands the depths of grief and despair, from his own experiences with his wife's death. When a cereal box reminds Mitch acutely of her daughter's passing, Darren assures her that it gets better.
Elsewhere in the political sphere, we learn that Yitanes herself had engineered the leak within the campaign, planting a spy within the organization, and had used Darren's communications director, Nathan, to leak details from the campaign from within... and likely sow discontent among Darren's aides. It's Jamie who learns of this from Lesley Adams, whom he believed to be the one pulling the strings. (Interestingly, I thought Jamie may have been an alcoholic from his choice of bottled water at the bar, but here Jamie pukes his guts up after drinking too much with Adams and Abani, claiming that he's not used to drinking.) And Gwen seems to have a few secrets of her own: she slept with the commercial director whom she wants to use for Richmond's latest television ad... and she used to work for Yitanes. Plus, there's her powerful Senator father who has an agenda of his own.
Who to trust? No one it seems. The closer Linden and Holder to unmasking Rosie's killer, the more secrets they kick up... and these two have skeletons of their own to contend with, making The Killing even more twisty and revealing as the episodes go on.
Next week on The Killing ("What You Have Left"), Sarah questions a suspect's family; tensions mount between Richmond and Gwen, his campaign advisor.
"State."
Throughout the four-plus season run of Friday Night Lights, we've gotten quite a few inspirational speeches from Coach Taylor, spirit-rallying calls to action, soul-stirring St. Crispin's Day speeches intended to join men into a single unit, to merge them together into a single entity before they leap once more into the fray.
Sometimes, however, all it takes is a single word scrawled on a dry-erase board.
On this week's episode of Friday Night Lights ("On the Outside Looking In"), written by Kerry Ehrin and directed by Michael Waxman, a number of stories about isolation and unity tumbled together in an appealingly loose fashion. There was the nicely rendered parallel stories of Tami and Julie, each adrift in their own way, desperately seeking to fit into an environment that has them ill at ease.
Despite the distance between mother and daughter, they're linked here by a taut thematic thread. For Tami, it's an effort to fit into her new surroundings as the guidance counselor at East Dillon. She's got her work cut out for her, given the apathy of her fellow teachers, the disinterest of the parents, and the outright hostility of some of the students, including at-risk Epic. Julie, meanwhile, can't quite fit in at college. She's got a roommate who is less interested in getting to know her and more interested in, uh, getting to know the opposite sex.
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"I wear a Stetson now. Stetsons are cool."
Let's be upfront about one thing, shall we? While Doctor Who is often thought of as children's entertainment, the long-running and formidable science fiction program is anything but child-like. Yes, the show airs in a decidedly pre-watershed hour in the United Kingdom and, yes, the current Doctor, Matt Smith, has his face emblazoned on everything from sheets to trading cards, but under the aegis of head writer/executive producer Steven Moffat, Season Six of Doctor Who feels quite adult in the best possible sense.
If there's a word to describe the first two episodes of Season Six, which kicks off with an astonishing and taut two-parter ("The Impossible Astronaut" and "Day of the Moon"), it's dark. If there was another, it would be trippy. This is Doctor Who at its mind-bending best, a mix of alien invasion intrigue, self-examination, and bizarro twists that unfurl themselves with insidious menace.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Season Six picks up a few months after the whirlwind ending of Season Five, in which the Doctor's companions, plucky Amy Pond (Karen Gillan) and vigilant Rory Williams (Arthur Darvill) tied the knot. Here, we see them in post-honeymoon domestic bliss, though each yearns for adventure in their own way. Enter the Doctor, the Time Lord with the unerring sense of wanderlust, just the thing to snap them back out of their quotidian reality... and a summons that brings them all together again.
Smith is once more at his very best, delivering a portrayal of the Doctor that's nuanced and fluid, an embodiment of quicksilver. Kingston, well, sings as the provocative and close-lipped River Song, combining a gleeful exuberance with a tragic dimension: she and the Doctor are on opposite trajectories, meeting once more in the middle. (Whatever their relationship, it's utterly heartbreaking.) Gillan is carefree and down-to-earth yet ethereal at the same time; her Amy Pond is strong, funny, and sexy. And Darvill's Rory remains tantalizingly out of touch with reality: he's landed the girl of his dreams but can't let go of his jealousy over her friendship with the Time Lord. Together, our neat little quartet of time-tossed adventurers make for an engaging set of travelers, each carting their own hefty baggage.
Much of these first two episodes were shot on location in America and the production makes great use out of the splendor and vastness of the Utah desert, as the Doctor and his three companions investigate some mysterious goings on that are tied to the United States space program of 1969. One giant leap for mankind and all that. But the mystery they're exploring involves a terrifying masked astronaut whose arrival on the idyllic picnic scene the TARDIS crew have created turns to chaos, the much-whispered mystery of the Silence, River Song, numbered blue envelopes, creepy Oval Office telephone calls, President Richard Nixon (Jonathan Creek's Stuart Milligan), and more than a few space-time paradoxes. And, oh, did I mention the always great Mark Sheppard(Firefly) guest-stars as ex-FBI agent Canton Delaware? (He'll share the role with William Morgan Sheppard; both have their secrets.)
(As for the Silence, I can't say much about them/it, but I will say that the Weeping Angels, who first appear in Moffat's "Blink," have some competition for creepiest Who villains as the plot begins to unfold here. They made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up. As for the astronaut of the title, you'll have to see it to believe it...)
While "The Impossible Astronaut" sets up the direction for the season and creates an engaging plot, it's the heartbreaking and sensational second episode, "Day of the Moon," which kicks the storyline into first gear, a somber and electrifying installment that is almost dream-like in its intensity, a nightmare borne from the mind of Moffat that infects each of us in turn, uncoiling its snake-like heads to bite us when we least expect it. The companions are pushed past their breaking point and the chase that follows is as gripping as it is jaw-dropping. (You'll see what I mean, but it all comes together, I promise.)
Moffat's Doctor Who has humor, heart, and horror in equal quantity and that's keenly felt here, as the stakes are raised immeasurably within the first few minutes of the season opener. While there's the sense of joy at seeing the Doctor, Amy, Rory, and River unite, there's also an elegiac quality as well; change is afoot for all of them and their companionship is interrupted by deep tension between the travelers. Secrets have a nasty way of driving a wedge between people and dark, dark secrets can threaten to shatter the circle of friendship here. That is, when they're not being pursued by the forces of Earth and beyond, encircled and defeated at their darkest hour yet.
These are terrific episodes of discovery, imprisonment, and flight, as the Doctor and his trusted companions learn several shocking truths about the planet and themselves, and we're left to pick up the pieces, to strive to understand just what is going on here, to unlock the puzzle that Moffat and Co. have created. The result is surreal and haunting, a mind-game of the highest order that remains tantalizingly unresolved at the end of the second episode. We're seeing Moffat launch his season-long arc from the start with this gripping two-parter and the questions that linger are intensely nerve-jangling.
In fact, one can imagine quite a few viewers needing a doctor of their own when all is said and done... Fez definitely not included.
Season Six of Doctor Who begins this Saturday evening on BBC America and BBC One. Continue reading full story...
It doesn't take the greensight to know that HBO was going to issue a second season pickup for its fantasy series Game of Thrones, based on the "A Song of Ice and Fire" novels by George R.R. Martin, after the premium cable network touted an impressive 4.2 cumulative viewers for the Sunday broadcasts of the first installment.
The announcement about the renewal was issued by Michael Lombardo, president of HBO Programming.
“We are delighted by the way David Benioff and D.B. Weiss have brought George R.R. Martin’s amazing book series to the screen, and thrilled by the support of the media and our viewers,” he said in a prepared statement. “This is the continuation of an exciting creative partnership.”
No word on when we can expect to see the arrival of Season Two of Game of Thrones or how many episodes the sophomore season will contain, though I'm hoping to see something closer to thirteen episodes as Benioff and Weiss begin to adapt "A Clash of Kings," the hefty second volume of Martin's series.
The full press release from HBO can be found below.
LOS ANGELES, April 19, 2011 – Following strong critical and viewer response to the series’ April 17 debut, HBO has renewed GAME OF THRONES for a second season, it was announced today by Michael Lombardo, president, HBO Programming.
“We are delighted by the way David Benioff and D.B. Weiss have brought George R.R. Martin’s amazing book series to the screen, and thrilled by the support of the media and our viewers,” said Lombardo. “This is the continuation of an exciting creative partnership.”
Based on the bestselling fantasy book series “A Song of Ice and Fire,” by George R.R. Martin, GAME OF THRONES follows kings and queens, knights and renegades, liars and noblemen as they vie for power in a land where summers span decades and winters can last a lifetime.
Among the early critical raves, TV Guide has called the show “a crowning triumph” and “brilliant,” while the Los Angeles Times termed GAME OF THRONES “a great and thundering series,” as well as “wild and bewitching.” The Hollywood Reporter praised the “excellent storytelling, superb acting and stunning visual effects,” and the New York Post observed that the “art directing, acting and incredible sets are as breathtaking as the massive scope of the series.”
The gross audience for the premiere night of GAME OF THRONES on the main HBO channel was 4.2 million viewers.
The season one cast includes (in alphabetical order): Mark Addy, Alfie Allen, Sean Bean, Emilia Clarke, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Peter Dinklage, Michelle Fairley, Aidan Gillen, Jack Gleeson, Iain Glen, Kit Harington, Lena Headey, Isaac Hempstead-Wright, Harry Lloyd, Richard Madden, Rory McCann, Jason Momoa, Sophie Turner and Maisie Williams.
Season one credits: GAME OF THRONES is executive produced by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss; co-executive producers, Carolyn Strauss, Guymon Casady, Vince Gerardis, Ralph Vicinanza and George R.R. Martin; producers, Mark Huffam and Frank Doelger; directors of photography, Marco Pontecorvo, Alik Sakharov and Matt Jensen; production designer, Gemma Jackson; costume designer, Michele Clapton. Continue reading full story...
Winter is coming, as we're told several times throughout the first episode of HBO's lavish and gripping new series, Game of Thrones, based on the George R.R. Martin novel series "A Song of Ice and Fire." It's a belief that the halcyon days of summer will soon be behind us, that the icy grip of winter--true winter--will soon wrap its fingers around our throats. Those happy days are behind us.
In the series premiere of Game of Thrones ("Winter is Coming"), written by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss and directed by Tim Van Patten, the signs and omens are gathering around us. A direwolf has been slain by a stag, in turn killed by the great wolf itself, her children spilling from her bellies as orphans. In a world that moving forward away from superstitions, it's a tableau that should give even the deepest cynics of Westeros pause for thought. Change is coming to Winterfell and, by the time the closing credits of this first episode roll, the Starks have been changed forever.
You had the chance to read my advance review of the first six episodes of Game of Thrones a few weeks back but, now that the first episode has aired, we can discuss the series opener in depth. So put on your fur-lined cloak, sharpen your broadsword, get a good grip, and prepare to discuss "Winter is Coming."
(Aside for the fans of the books: While this version captures the scope and scale of Westeros and the production, the original felt more insular, slightly more claustrophobic and narrow. Here, there's a sense of space and movement: the walls of Winterfell contrasting with the openness of the sea at Pentos, the brutal North at odds with the luxuriousness of Illyrio's mansion across the Narrow Sea. The opening sequence and Dany's wedding night are handled differently here than in the original pilot. The recastings are all fantastic in my opinion, though I do mourn the loss of the corpulence of Illyrio, originally played by the great Ian McNiece. Roger Allum, taking over for him, is fabulous, but lacks the physicality for the role. It is, however, a mere quibble amid a production that is as studied and accomplished as this one.)
This is grand fantasy, writ large. Seemingly no expense has been spared and bringing the world of Westeros to life, but writers Benioff and Weiss and director Van Patten also know that they can't coast by on grandeur and beauty shots alone. The characters as we meet them here are vivid and compelling, even though there are a lot of them. There's a fair amount of exposition to get through in any series opener and the first episode of Game of Thrones is no exception. We very luckily have the Stark children to fill in some of the blanks when King Robert's retinue arrives at Winterfell, allowing the audience some semblance of a toehold when it comes to keeping track of the Lannisters and who they are: haughty Cersei, arrogant Jaime, and vivacious Tyrion. (Tyrion should already been a favorite of the audience. While his accent is shaky at times, Peter Dinklage brings this remarkable and nuanced character to life brilliantly. If he's not already a favorite, he soon will be.)
But this is an episode that's largely full of set up for the plots to come, as Ned is offered the position of Hand to the King to his childhood friend Robert; Catelyn learns that her sister Lysa believes the last Hand, her husband Jon Arryn, to have been murdered by the Lannisters; Dany is wed to Dothraki warlord Khal Drogo; and little Bran is pushed out of a window after learning of the secret of the Lannister siblings: Cersei and Jaime are not just twins, but lovers as well. There's a lot of information to process, but I think the writers do a superb job at keeping the pacing moving, even as we're introduced to a myriad of plots and characters, meeting the major players from House Stark, House Baratheon, House Lannister, and House Targaryen. There's a lot to keep straight here, but it's also not being spoon-fed to the audience; it's refreshing in this day and age to see a production that doesn't denigrate the intelligence of the audience but instead plays up to it.
There's an aura of dread and of transformation at play here, as the King arrives in Winterfell and alters the fabric of the Starks' lives. Will Ned accept and move his family south? Will Cersei and Jaime's need for secrecy cause the death of wee Bran Stark? Will Catelyn heed her sister's warning? The game of thrones is just beginning once more and the players are already getting into position. Even as the court intrigues reach Winterfell, across the Narrow Sea, the two remaining members of the old dynasty, the Targaryen clan, are making preparations to reclaim their throne from the Usurper, Robert Baratheon.
Viserys sells his sister Daenerys to the Dothraki, making her a queen--or khalessi--in exchange for a Dothraki horde to reclaim his crown. A pawn in the quest for kingly conquering, Dany is a girl thrust into womanhood, a bride forcefully taken, a gift of beauty in exchange for warriors. Her innocence is in deep contrast to Viserys' brutality; his line about letting all of Drogo's warriors and their horses having her if it meant him getting what he wants was shocking and terrifying. Pale-haired siblings with nothing to lose and everything to gain, exiled royalty desperate to return home, wherever that might be.
Adaptation is always difficult and when you have a book as deep and dense as Martin's "A Game of Thrones" to work with, there are always going to be things that don't make it into the picture, due in part to the internal nature of Martin's work. By having a different character narrate each chapter, we're given the chance to view this story from the vantage point of third-person omniscient narration, allowing the reader to learn the backstory, the inner-most thoughts and desires of the character in question. Television is a vastly different medium and that's not an option for the writer here. (Trust me: we don't want to see voiceover.)
Which means that certain elements are going to be left off of the page and the screen, as it were. Characters will have to be composited or eliminated altogether, and plots may have to be rejiggered. Still, with the series opener, Benioff and Weiss deliver a staggeringly faithful adaptation of Martin's novel, and if the cliffhanger ending ("The things I do for love") wasn't enough to pique your interest, I don't know what is. What follows over the course of the next few episodes is gripping stuff: human-level fantasy that skimps on sorcery for magic of a different kind: making you care for a world that's vastly different to our own, yet in some ways hauntingly similar and to feel a sense of kinship to characters who are as humbly flawed as you or I. This is humanistic fantasy, a world of moral greys and hard choices.
That said, the only real complaint I had with the first episode was the fact that I didn't think the emotional rapport between the Stark children and the direwolves was sufficiently developed. We get the sense that they're cuddly and cute and Bran's direwolf, Summer, moans nervously as his master climbs the wall, but I wanted to see more of an actual rapport between child and animal. To go back to the tableau established at the beginning of this post, these Starks were meant to have these creatures by their sides, as Jon Snow suggests. Which supposes some sort of divine intervention or fate. If that's true, I wanted to feel that there was an unbreakable bond between Stark and wolf, but our exposure to the animals is limited to the scene in the woods and two shots of Bran's wolf, now older. Without giving anything away, I will say that the direwolves are key to the plot and the overall narrative and the lack of rapport here was the one thing that I felt was lacking from an otherwise stellar series opener.
Still, it's a minor complaint amid a production that virtually did everything else right. The tension established by the prologue, occurring on the other side of the vast Wall, creates a ribbon of unease unfurling just underneath the surface. What does it mean for Winterfell and the world? What happened in those woods? What are the white walkers and why does it frighten Will so much that he deserts his post as one of the Night's Watch? Was he mad or is a terrifying omen of something far worse to come? For now, it's far from the goings-on at Winterfell, where matters both politic and personal rule supreme. But there's the sense that the walls as they were are closing in from all directions: something evil stalks the woods while across the sea an old enemy threatens the peace of the Seven Kingdoms once more. That is, if they're not destroyed from within first...
Now that the wait is over and the first episode has aired, I'm curious to know what you thought of the series opener. Did it grab your attention? Were you confused by the panoply of characters or the separate narratives? Were you shocked by the ending of the episode as Bran was pushed from the tower? And, most importantly, will you tune in again next week?
Next week on Game of Thrones ("The Kingsroad"), Branʼs fate remains in doubt; Ned leaves the north with daughters Sansa and Arya, while Catelyn stays behind to tend to Bran; Jon Snow heads north to join the brotherhood of the Nightʼs Watch; Tyrion decides to forego the trip south with his family, instead joining Jon in the entourage heading to the Wall; Viserys bides his time in hopes of winning back the throne, while Daenerys attempts to learn how to please her new husband, Drogo.
"You said she didn't suffer."
Rule Number One among homicide detectives: don't make promises you can't keep. Sarah Linden knows this, which is why she doesn't offer the Larsens the false hope that they'll catch whoever slayed their beloved teenage daughter Rosie. (In fact, it's Holder who makes that promise.) But Linden's seemingly innocuous white lie--telling Mitch and Stan that Rosie didn't suffer--was itself intended to assuage the consciences of the grieving parents. When they come face to face with proof to the opposite, it's as much a shock to the system, a jolt of brutal realization, as the news that their daughter was dead.
In this week's episode of The Killing ("A Soundless Echo"), written by Soo Hugh and directed by Jennifer Getzinger, Mitch and Stan grapple with funeral arrangements for Rosie--the minutiae of grief and loss--as the investigators make some shocking new discoveries about Rosie's secret life and that video they discovered, and the Richmond campaign strives to stay in the mayoral race.
The concentric circles of the narrative of The Killing are keenly felt here: the political, the personal, the inner lives of people we think we know. So many secrets swirl around these characters just four episodes into the series' run: Just what did happen to Darren's wife? Who was the "dead girl" that Sarah Linden chased after last time? What is Sterling so afraid of? And over it all hovers the spirit of Rosie Larsen, the hungry ghost whose presence is itself a soundless echo of a life lived.
I loved the scene in which Linden and Holder silently fix Kris in their shared gaze, offering not threats or encouragement, just the righteous anger of the silent. Playing a video of Rosie before her death--a Rosie that's full of life and promise for the future--they force him to tell the dead girl that he didn't kill her. But, given what we learn from Jasper, it seems like these two could be out of the frame altogether now. Rosie left the school dance and Sterling headed to the basement with Kris and Jasper. So where did Rosie go?
There's the mystery of the 108 bus, which Holder learns is Rosie's public transit option of choice. And we learn what lies at the end of the line for Rosie: a rendezvous spot with her teacher, Bennet, with whom Rosie appears to have been having a romantic relationship with. But hold that thought for one second...
First, the discovery of just what was at the end of the line is interesting for several reasons. While it gives the police a connection between Rosie and Bennet--the two were spotted together there on multiple occasions--there's another connection being forged here. The basketball program is one of Darren Richmond's anti-gang intitiatives and the presence of those Darren Richmond for Mayor posters in the locker room serve a bigger purpose: they establish a connection between Rosie Larsen and the Richmond campaign. However insubstantial it might seem, however flimsy and paper-thin, it's the first sign that Rosie and Darren may have moved in a similar circle, or that his campaign aides may have crossed paths with the dead girl.
And then there's Bennet. As soon as he sat down with Mitch in the hallway, I knew that his relationship with Rosie was more than just professional. Hell, even Holder suspects this in the pilot episode, implying that Bennet may have been attracted to Rosie. But before our imaginations run wild, let's explore the fact that Bennet and Rosie didn't have a sexual relationship. Sure, it seems as though the writers want to point us towards the possibility that they did, but that's what makes me leery.
Yes, Rosie "wanted the world," and Linden discovers Bennet's letters to Rosie concealed in her globe, letters that mention Rosie being "an old soul" wise beyond her years. While this seems pretty incriminating, it doesn't mean that their relationship was sexual. The fact that Bennet is so gentle with Mitch, so willing to share with her about her daughter's gift for learning, makes me believe that he wasn't sexually involved with her, as he'd be more likely to distance himself from her family than become entangled with her grieving mother. He makes a gift of Rosie's favorite novel (oddly not named here), discussing the "soundless echo" mentioned within. Was he in love with her? Were they just friends? What was she doing in such a rough neighborhood? And was that where she went the night of her death?
This week, we also caught a glimpse into the hidden lives of the Larsens, learning some key details about the behaviors and actions before Rosie's death. While Mitch is still in a deep state of shock, an emotionally numb zombie staggering through the day, it's Stan who seems to be reacting to the loss in interesting ways. We learn that he had purchased a house for his family before Rosie died but he'll have to sell it now amid everything that's happened. While Stan has seemed a more or less "good guy," there's darkness in him and clues to a past that may not have been as tranquil as he would have us believe.
Just what did Belko mean about taking care of Darren Richmond? And what was Stan's role in, uh, taking care of things for local mobster Janek he meets up with after many years of estrangement? What did "old times" involve exactly? Could it be that Stan was a mob enforcer? And what if Rosie's murder is in fact payback for something he did in his "past life"? Hmmm... Stan, meanwhile, does take the cash that's offered to him by Janek, placing it in a ledger in his office desk. Interesting that he doesn't put it in the bank or pay off some of his bills. So what does he want with the cash exactly?
Mitch, meanwhile, asks some tough questions of the priest who is overseeing Rosie's funeral arrangements. Where was God when Rosie's lungs were filling with water, as she tried to claw her way out of that trunk? The cold comfort offered here is just that, and Mitch can't stomach the sanctimonious religious treacle that's being offered here perfunctorally. Why isn't Rosie with HER, after all? What sort of deity can do such a thing to a mother? She looks at Christ on the cross and sees her daughter reflected back at her, the bound wrists, the bloody eyes, echoed back from the crucifix.
Her quest for answers leads her to Rosie's school, where she experiences a true moment of communion with Sterling, a beautiful scene that radiated loss, connection, and love. And then leads her on a collision course with Bennet, as described above. The questions that Mitch has knocking about inside of her require some form of answer. The questions the cops keep asking--do you recognize this key? what about these shoes? was Rosie seeing an adult?--need context. The moment she spends with Bennet connect her to a Rosie who isn't dead, but who had her whole life ahead of her. A girl who thought about books and not coffins, who dreamed of the future and not of burial.
Rosie's death has kicked everything out of orbit, from the Larsens' life to the political aspirations of Darren Richmond. This week, Gwen sought assistance from her father, Senator Eaton (played, of course, by Alan Dale), urging him to arrange a meeting between Darren and local hotshot Drexler, whose antics are lapped up by Seattle's well-heeled set but who seems like little more than an unlikable kid who struck it rich and uses his money to lord it over everyone around him. While Darren doesn't want to cut any deals with Drexler, he reluctantly takes a $50,000 check from him, using it to pay for a new billboard and cover other campaign costs. (He's unaware that it was Gwen that made the meet possible, even as she's chided by her father for sleeping with her candidate.)
It certainly seems as though Gwen is on the up-and-up, but then again so is Jamie, who we learn is secretly working for Darren. In a very Damages-like twist, Jamie is spying on Lesley Adams for Darren, ingratiating himself to the incumbent and hoping to learn who in the Richmond campaign is the saboteur. After all, as Darren and Jamie both acknowledge, if Jamie wanted to screw over Darren, he would have been smarter about it. Which begs the question: if it's not Jamie, just who is leaking information? Hmmm... (And I'm chuffed that it means Jamie is sticking around, as his deviousness and ambition make for good character qualities in a political thriller.)
And then there's Sarah Linden herself. She blows off trying out wedding cake samples with Rick for examining Rosie's room one last time. Is she getting too close to this case? Is she stuck in a repeating pattern once more? She's drawn to that drawing from the pilot episode again, its eerie sketch of trees, the silent scene less pleasant and more disturbing, another soundless echo of another dead girl...
Next week on The Killing ("Super 8"), Richmond and his team plan an anti-crime commercial; Stan turns to a work colleague for help in finding Rosie's killer.
"I'm going to miss this." - Eric Taylor
Those words, spoken by Kyle Chandler's Eric Taylor in the season premiere of Friday Night Lights ("Expectations"), written by David Hudgins and directed by Michael Waxman, are said as he looks over at the minor squabble developing between wife Tami (Connie Britton) and daughter Julie (Aimee Teegarden). But that simple sentence, offered in a sweet and rather sad tone, might as well encapsulate the overall feeling of the audience: we're going to miss this too.
Even though the "this" in question might be yet flare-up of adolescence angst from Julie Taylor. But it's the fact that the Taylors are together, engaged in the regular rigors of daily life, that the entire declarative statement takes on bigger meaning. Change is coming for the Taylors, with Julie heading off the school. Their family is once again being split up and those breakfasts, those arguments, those stolen moments are soon to be a thing of the past.
The arrival of the fifth season marks the beginning of the end, as it were, of Friday Night Lights and the installment plays up this sensation by offering a series of farewells, most notably from Julie and Landry (Jesse Plemons), each heading off to a new life at university. At its heart, Friday Night Lights has echoed the rhythms and patterns of quotidian life: seasons pass, people come and go, lovers come together. Life goes on as it always does, with friends returning, children growing older, parents realizing just how quickly time has passed.
I'm tempted to speed through this final season but I also want to savor it, knowing that it's the very end of our stay in Dillon, a town that's largely changed from when we first encountered it in the pilot episode. But, hold on though we might want to, just like Eric, we too can't stop the passing of time.
Continue reading...
Kudos to the writers of Parks and Recreation for pulling off what will go down as one of the all-time best episodes of the NBC comedy series, one that threw off the audience's preconceptions of comedy narratives and shattered our expectations about how romantic comedy couples are meant to be handled.
In this week's hilarious and emotionally resonant episode ("Fancy Party"), written by Katie Dippold and directed by Michael Trim, newly dating couple April and Andy got married. It wasn't a Very Special Episode. It wasn't preceded by NBC hitting us over the head with promos for a wedding site for April and Andy or forcing us to watch them shop for rings or make wedding plans, the writing team instead pulled the rug out from underneath the audience, transforming an episode about the unlikely couple hosting a dinner party into an impromptu wedding episode.
It was unexpected and magical, not least because the wool was pulled over the characters' eyes as well as our own. The sudden revelation that the "fancy party" that the gang at the Department of Parks and Recreation was attending was in fact a wedding for a couple who had only been dating for a month--the TV equivalent of a micro-second--was a stunning revelation in the face of the protracted and painful courtship of Jim and Pam over on The Office.
In one fell swoop, our expectations about April and Andy were punctured amid a ceremony that was not only organic in terms of their relationship and the show's unsentimental look at modern love, but also was entirely fitting for these characters at this point in the show's run.
None more so, perhaps, than this week's wedding. I couldn't help but wonder--all the way up to the point in which the justice of the peace declared them man and wife--whether this was in fact a complicated and provocative joke employed by Andy and April on their guests. Was it a ruse or an actual wedding? Were they about to be married or was it in fact a provocative gag on the institution of marriage?
This sense of unease and a cynical distrust of the reality unfolding here was assisted by the cold open in which Ron Swanson seemingly yanked out one of his own teeth during a department meeting. Shocking and unexpected, it was a gag of the highest order, an effort by Ron to pull one over on his gullible colleagues, a prank that pushed the boundaries of polite behavior and terrifying excess. (Ron, of course, had had the tooth removed by a dentist the day before.)
That aura of suspicion carried over into the wedding sequence, though the writers defied my own preconceptions by actually going through with the marriage of April and Andy, creating an emotional truth to the impulsive action that cemented their love and remained true to their wacky sense of adventure and selves. April Dwyer (nee Ludgate) is so seldom in touch with her emotions, so typically jaded and aloof, that when she does manifest some semblance of genuine feeling, one can't help but be swept up by it. Her tears at her sister's sullen speech may have been real, but it was the honest way she told Leslie that she loved her that tugged on my heartstrings.
While the characters may be splitting off and coupling, what remains at the show's core is the easiness and bond of friendship that exists between the characters. Leslie's efforts to try and call off the wedding were motivated by love for both April and Andy and an attempt to see that they not make a huge mistake they regretted later, putting their marriage before actually dating, or getting to know one another, or finding a place to live. ("We'll get a condo!") But her support of the couple is also a testament to her love for them as well, and it's felt in that brief but powerful scene between Leslie and April. ("You're awesome... I love you.")
Despite the fact that we're raised on fairy tales in which the wedding is the happy ending rather than the beginning, here the audience is forced to admit that the wedding is just the first step in a long road ahead for April and Andy, the beginning of something rather than the end. In romantic comedies, this is almost unheard of, particularly in televised one, where the tension between the two lovers needs to be sustained at all costs and where marriage often removes some of the shine rather than intensifies it.
April and Andy's relationship has only just begun and they've, fittingly for them, done things completely out of order. They haven't lived together, haven't really fought and broken up (not since they officially started dating), haven't even really gotten to know each other, but their marriage kicks everything into a higher gear. Where will they live? Will they get along? Will they squabble? What does this mean? All good questions as the writers subvert our preconceived notions of how a television couple is supposed to proceed in their courtship.
Which makes "Fancy Party" quite a groundbreaking episode, fusing together humor and genuine emotion into twenty-odd minutes of television bliss. I'm touched, stunned, incredulous, and surprised. But, most of all, I'm in awe.
Next week on Parks and Recreation ("Soulmates"), an online dating service matches Leslie with someone she already knows; Chris challenges Ron to a burger cook-off as part of a new health initiative. Continue reading full story...
Looking for all of our coverage of HBO's Game of Thrones in one place? Look no further.
At The Daily Beast's Newsmaker page for Game of Thrones, you find all of our collected coverage of Game of Thrones, including: Game of Thrones for Dummies, my in-depth glossary and character gallery for the uninitiated; George R.R. Martin's two Curator features, in which he picks Top 10 Fantasy Films and Top 10 Science Fiction Films; my initial preview feature; my behind the scenes feature, 10 Secrets From HBO's Game of Thrones, and much more.
Finally, my advance review of the first six episodes of Game of Thrones can be found here.
Game of Thrones begins Sunday at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.
Well, this is it: the beginning of the end.
After four seasons of emotionally resonant drama, a nuanced exploration of life in small town Texas, and one of the most realistic portrayals of marriage ever, television masterpiece Friday Night Lights is heading towards the its final days, beginning with this week's thrilling and evocative season premiere ("Expectations"), written by David Hudgins and directed by Michael Waxman.
It's not surprising that "Expectations" had me getting choked up no less than four times over the course of 40-odd minutes, as characters made their farewells and prepared to leave Dillon behind. While their goodbyes might be temporary, it was a canny way of signaling to the audience that the final parting is still to come, that with just a dozen or so episodes left, there would be no going back to Dillon.
The first two episodes of the fifth and final season--"Expectations" and next week's installment ("On the Outside Looking In"), written by Kerry Ehrin and directed by Michael Waxman--contain an aura of both sadness and hope.
Which is fitting as there is a lot of change afoot in just the first hour alone, as Landry (Jesse Plemons) and Julie (Aimee Teegarden) prepare to leave for college and Eric (Kyle Chandler) and Tami (Connie Britton) grapple with new professional challenges (including, for Tami, one hell of a high-risk student), while also attempting to come to terms with Julie growing up and leaving home.
But everyone has to deal with some new circumstances, some of which are inherently challenging. There's trouble at home for Becky (Madison Burge), who has to deal with a sudden change in her family life as well as feelings of isolation and abandonment. Jess (Jurnee Smollett) attempts to raise her little brothers now that her dad is on the road launching multiple franchises of his BBQ restaurant. Billy (Derek Phillips) and Mindy (Stacey Oristano) have troubles of their own, not the least of which is Billy's crushing guilt over Tim (Taylor Kitsch) still being in prison and further changes at the Riggins household.
What else did I think about the first two episodes of Season Five?
Continue reading...
Attention, Game of Thrones uninitiated: you've come to the right place.
HBO's new fantasy series Game of Thrones creates a massive world with its own jargon and a ton of characters. Over at The Daily Beast, check out my latest feature, "Game of Thrones for Dummies," (I didn't pick the hed!) in which I break down the objects, people, places, and curiosities of Westeros and beyond in a Game of Thrones glossary for those who don't know who the hell the Kingslayer is, what in God's name a wilding is, or why they keep saying "Winter is coming."
Plus, there's also an embedded character gallery accessible here, which breaks down 20 of the major characters of Game of Thrones into easily digestible profiles, with character descriptions, likes/dislikes, weapons, family relations and more... including quotes from Emilia Clarke (Daenerys), Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Jaime Lannister), and Kit Harington (Jon Snow).
And don't worry, those of you who are newly emigrated to Westeros, there are no spoilers within.
Game of Thrones airs Sunday evening at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.
Lifetime’s rush-job TV movie, William & Kate, depicts the romance between Prince William and Kate Middleton with unintentional hilarity.
Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "William & Kate on Lifetime: 8 Crazy Scenes," in which I pick out the 8 craziest/cheesiest scenes in a made-for-TV movie overstuffed with them.
William & Kate airs Monday evening on Lifetime.
Game of Thrones, HBO's adaptation of George R.R. Martin's first book in his bestselling series A Song of Ice and Fire, premieres April 17th on HBO.
In anticipation, Martin curates his 10 favorite fantasy films of all time, from Ladyhawke and Raiders of the Lost Arc to the Lord of the Rings trilogy at The Daily Beast.
For Martin's previous Curator feature of his favorite science-fiction films, read this. For my interview with Martin; the show's creators, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss; and Sue Naegle, the entertainment president of HBO, read this feature. Fans of the books should also read "10 Secrets of HBO's Game of Thrones," to find out about casting direwolves, forging the Iron Throne, creating the Dothraki language, and many other behind-the-scenes details. And you can read my review of the first six episodes of Game of Thrones here. (Minor spoilers, only.)
Did your favorite make the list? What's your take on GRRM's favorite science fiction films? Head to the comments section to discuss and debate.
Game of Thrones premieres Sunday, April 17th at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.
Law & Order: LA is undergoing a massive retooling (beginning with tonight's two-hour reboot), Criminal Intent is about to end on USA, and SVU’s leads’ contracts are set to expire.
Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, entitled "The Downfall of Law & Order," in which I report on the once-mighty franchise.
Law & Order: Los Angeles returns tonight, after a 19-week hiatus, at 9 pm ET/PT on NBC.
"Assumptions are your enemy, detective." - Sarah Linden
What were Rosie Larsen's final minutes on earth like? As the trunk of the car filled with water and the darkness closed in around her, Rosie fought for life, attempting to claw her way out of her watery grave. Her mother Mitch (Michelle Forbes, whose performance just becomes more and more emotionally wrenching each week) attempts to experience those final moments, slipping underneath the surface of the water in her bathtub, her eyes open, her heart pounding. It's a moment of attempted rapport between mother and dead child, a heartbreaking effort to know, to understand, to vicariously put herself into Rosie's end in those murky waters.
Continuing last week's strong start for The Killing, this week's episode ("El Diablo"), written by Dawn Prestwich and Nicole Yorkin and directed by Gwyneth Horder-Payton, found Linden and Holder attempting to unravel the mystery of The Cage, the Larsens grappled with life without their daughter, and the Richmond campaign discovered the leak within their rank. Or did they? Hmmm...
This week's episode was another edge-of-your-seat thrill ride, another televisual page-turner, in which we received some more clues about what happened to Rosie and some brutally unexpected twists. Throughout it all, the specter of "El Diablo" lurked just underneath the surface, while that bloody palm print and the grisly scene in the school basement proved impossible to shake.
So what did I think of "El Diablo"? Let's discuss...
But it's the hole in the wall that Linden discovers that gives the detectives their first lead, taking them to the home of school custodian Lynden Johnson Rosales. Unfortunately, after stabbing Linden in the arm, he exits through a nearby window and ends up in critical condition. However, he's able to identify just who Rosie was with in the basement, Kris... whom he refers to as "El Diablo."
What we learn later is just who else was down in the Cage, thanks to an incriminating video on Jasper's phone, seized in class by their teacher, Bennet. What it depicts: Jasper and Kris taking turns with Rosie as they film their sexual three-way on Halloween night. Bennet turns the phone over to the police, even as Kris begins to break, angrily confronting Jasper at school, saying "they know, they know!" While it's the devil's mask that allowed Kris to mingle with his former classmates at the school dance, the video depicts Jasper wearing the mask as he, uh, has his way with Rosie, her pink wig bobbing sadly.
It's a reveal that makes sense, given what the detectives already know. Linden believes that Rosie would only have gone down to the Cage with someone she trusted and not Kris; she would have gone down there with Jasper, though. The video evidence puts all three at the scene, but there are still several questions remaining: What caused the blood on the wall? Was it Rosie's? And how did she get from the school basement to the woods, where we know that she was killed? Interesting...
Meanwhile, Linden had to break the cause of death to the Larsens. Stan is furious about the front page newspaper story linking Rosie's death to the Richmond campaign and demands to know if the police have made an arrest. While Linden is perfunctory, she does also express compassion for their grief-striven parents. When Mitch asks if Rosie suffered, Linden doesn't hesitate to lie, telling Rosie's parents that their beloved daughter didn't suffer, that she was unconscious when the car went into the water. It's a white lie, designed to spare their feelings and not make this experience even more difficult for the two of them, but it's a lie nonetheless. And it's this lie that leads Mitch to try and experience what it would be like to drown. What she doesn't know is that Rosie broke off her fingernails trying to get out of that trunk, that her final moments were filled with anguish, terror, and pain.
Holder, meanwhile, is proving to be even more shifty than I previously thought. Just who was he talking to on the phone at the hospital? He quickly hangs up when Linden approaches and seems flustered when she asks what's going on. Meanwhile, we learn that he's kept some of his narcotics squad tricks up his sleeve. The pot he offered Rosie's classmates last week--and a teen runaway here--are in fact "narc scent." (Or as Holder describes it, "It smells like weed, it tastes like weed, but it's not weed.") Which does clear up some of the swirling uncertainty around Holder, but makes me question what he's hiding. Just how deep into the narcotics world did Holder get? Hmmm...
On the campaign end of things, Darren Richmond has a tense scene with the incumbent mayor (a scene that was in the original pilot, but which was shifted here, likely for time), but he also has other issues on his mind besides the rivalry with the mayor. There's the damage done from the link to Rosie's death and the campaign car and the fact that someone within his camp leaked news of Yaitanes' endorsement to the press... and all signs--namely, a super-incriminating email--point to Jamie. Richmond's sense of betrayal is palpable here, but it's actually Gwen who confronts Jamie about the leak, and Jamie denies it, pretty convincingly.
I don't think Jamie did it, despite what the email might say and he makes his exit from the campaign ("Screw you! Screw both of you!") with a good deal of enmity. He's not someone you want on your bad side, really... especially with the election in just 23 days. (Hey, just in time for the Season Two finale, in fact, if the narrative calendar holds true!)
Darren does get his endorsement from Yaitanes, even as Jamie is seen slinking away with his stuff in a cardboard box. Which makes me wonder: who benefits from the leak? And who benefits from Jamie exiting the campaign? I don't trust Gwen at all, in fact. While she's Darren's girlfriend, she's also Jamie's rival as well, and it's a little too perfect that the leak was discovered in Jamie's email account. How very pat.
(Aside: just what is the connection between this case and Darren's wife's death? Just how DID she die exactly? And what are the similarities between her demise and Rosie's?)
I love the small moments in this show, both humorous and heartbreaking: Linden referring to Holder as Justin Bieber and his retort that he and her son share the some of the same characteristics; Tommy setting a place at the table for Rosie; the nicotine gum that Linden frustratingly chews at the end of the day, the way she sadly looks over the ingredients in a bag of junk food; and the outgoing answering machine message that Mitch listens to over and over again, hearing the life that's in her daughter's voice, even as its very message is--in the context of her death--so troubling. ("We don't know where we are.")
All in all, another sensational installment that had me riveted. The horrific reveal of that cell phone video--Jasper and Kris grinning as they share Rosie--was a brutal way to end the installment and sets up a series of new questions for next week. Just how much does Rosie's friend Sterling know? Why did she run out of class like that? And what secrets is she keeping?
What did you think about this week's episode? Who has entered the frame now as the most likely suspect? Head to the comments section to discuss, analyze the clues, and debate.
Next week on The Killing "A Soundless Echo," the Larsens plan their daughter's funeral; Rosie's friend Sterling unveils surprises about her life.
After 36 years, beloved period drama Upstairs Downstairs returns to American television on Sunday with new characters and the original co-creators checking into 165 Eaton Place.
Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, entitled "Upstairs Downstairs Returns to PBS’ Masterpiece," in which I speak to Upstairs Downstairs' Dame Eileen Atkins, Jean Marsh, Keeley Hawes, and Ed Stoppard about the new series, set in 1936 and launching on Sunday evening. Among the topics under discussion: how the period drama relates to today's viewing audience, the character of Lady Maud (complete with monkey Solomon) played by Dame Eileen Atkins, the rivalry with ITV's Downton Abbey, and the broad-sweeping political and social themes of the three-episode season.
Upstairs Downstairs launches Sunday evening at 9 pm ET/PT on PBS' Masterpiece. Check your local listings for details.
"Home is not where you live, but where they understand you." - Christian Morganstern
My, how time flies: It's been more than three decades since Rose Buck (Jean Marsh) walked out of the front door of 165 Eaton Place and into the future.
For those of us who grew up on Upstairs, Downstairs (created by Marsh and Dame Eileen Atkins) watching the repeats on PBS or on DVD later, the show--which depicted the lives of the wealthy Bellamy clan and their servants below stairs--defined the period drama, transforming the stuffy recreations of aristos into a soap opera teeming with the hopes and dreams (and failures and foibles) of both the masters and the servants of a great London house.
While there have been countless adaptations of period-set literature over the years (Austen and Dickens remain always in style), recently viewers have seen a resurgence in open-ended, serialized period dramas. Lark Rise to Candleford may have perhaps started the trend in earnest, but it was the double punch of ITV's Downton Abbey and the revival of Upstairs Downstairs that truly brought the trend into full bloom.
Upstairs Downstairs, which begins its superb three-episode run on Sunday on PBS' Masterpiece, sees the series return to the small screen after a sizable hiatus. Revived by writer Heidi Thomas (Cranford) and directed by Euros Lyn (Doctor Who), this new Upstairs Downstairs has Marsh reprising her role as Rose, the former parlormaid who now runs an employment agency for domestic servants. The house at 165 Eaton Place has fallen into disrepair in the six years since the Bellamys decamped, its staircase long covered in dust, much like the period drama genre itself. But, before long, the crystal chandelier at the heart of the home, will sparkle once more.
Lady Maud is invading a household that's already a bit on edge. Sir Hallam (Ed Stoppard) and Lady Agnes (Keeley Hawes), a childless couple, see the address as an opportunity for a fresh start and the place where their dreams can come true. But there's a hell of a lot of baggage they're dragging along with them. Lady Agnes' sister, the spoilt Lady Persie (Claire Foy), is a shadow thrown over the light and possibility of this new home, and she transforms, over the course of these three installments, from a naive land-rich-but-cash-poor heiress into a loathsome and mercenary creature.
Downstairs, Rose--now newly installed as the housekeeper--has her hands full as well, overseeing a staff that has very different ideas about what's acceptable than she did when she was below stairs as a girl. Ivy Morris (Ellie Kendrick) prefers singing in the bath to housework, chauffeur Harry Spargo (Neil Jackson) spends his time falling into the Fascist movement, well-educated housemaid Rachel Perlmutter (Helen Bradbury) seems in over her head, and Johnny Proude (Nico Mirallegro) conceals a troubling secret. Fortunately, Rose has found some professionals: snobbish cook Clarice Thackeray (Anne Reid) and teetotaler butler Warwick Pritchard (Adrian Scarborough).
The cast is top-notch, as one would expect from any iteration of Upstairs Downstairs. There's a nice emotional throughline to the series and while the plot appears to be episodic, there are strong narrative undercurrents that carry the viewer through all three installments.
With only three episodes at their disposal, there's a lot of plot unfolding here. Characters come and go, matters of life and death intrudes into the space of 165 Eaton Place, and there's as much movement, change, and briskness as you can shoehorn into three hours. (I did wish, upon watching this season, that Thomas and Lyn (whose direction is dazzlingly beautiful) had more than just three episodes to work with. There's an innate sense of grandeur and of recreated glory, but I only feel like we're just scratching the surface here. There's a fair amount of telling, rather than showing going on.)
There's also a sense that the personal and the political are deeply intertwined here, that what's happening inside 165 Eaton Place is both affected by the outside world and also affects it in turn. Real-life historical figures--from Ribbentrop to Cecil Beaton--mingle with the Hollands and their servants and the entire cast of characters--from Foreign Office diplomat Sir Hallam to the lowliest housemaid--is caught up in the changes afoot in 1936: riots in Cable Street, the abdication, rising tensions with Germany, the rumblings of xenophobia and the trumpets of war.
There's a sense that life is about to change in ways that the Hollands and their staff would never, ever expect. While the house may have been repainted, the chandelier restored to its stunning glory, those days that the house represented are long gone and what's about to arrive will change England forever.
Much of Upstairs Downstairs revolves around that sense of fragility and change, offering a view into the way in which people live both above and below stairs. Despite our stations in life, one can't escape the inexorable matters of heartbreak, loss, love, joy, friendship and family. Here, a child's marble becomes an aide-memoir, an emblem of loss and grief, of secrets long kept and heartache most deep.
All in all, the three episodes of Upstairs Downstairs airing this month (six more episodes are on tap for 2012) represent a tantalizing start for this revival, an elegant new beginning for a series that's about the old and outmoded just as much as it is about the bright spirit of hope for the future. Once more, a rose blooms within 165 Eaton Place.
Upstairs Downstairs launches Sunday evening at 9 pm ET/PT on PBS' Masterpiece. Check your local listings for details. Continue reading full story...
Over the course of the last three seasons, we've gotten to know the, uh, intimate secrets and details of the double life of Hannah/Belle (Billie Piper), the working girl attempting to life her life and figure out just what she wants out of it.
Tonight marks the launch of the fourth and final season of the frothy and fun Secret Diary of a Call Girl and we see Belle standing at the edge of a precipice: Will she allow herself the chance to be happy with Ben (Iddo Goldberg)? Can she ever be happy or hope to settle down, given her line of work? Will she choose between personal fulfillment, professional success, or something that blends the two?
As Season Four--which launches tonight on Showtime--begins, Belle finds herself grappling with a series of transformative changes in her life. She's back in London after a luxurious gig that took her far away from her life and from Ben, of whom she's still sure of what the future holds. Returning to the city, she's now a proud homeowner with her own front door (something all London girls dream of, according to Belle) and, no sooner than she's set foot in her new place, Ben has shown up and is making her heart ache with the possibilities of whether or not they can and should be together.
But fate has other surprises for Belle. Her frenemy and former boss Stephanie (Cherie Lunghi) has been sent to prison and she has two favors--or curses--for Belle, asking her to take over the business for her while she's in the big house (only for a few weeks, she promises) and keep an eye on her naive and innocent daughter Poppy (Lily James). Belle's empty house is suddenly overfull and bursting with life, including the call girls on her books that she must keep happy, including icy Charlotte (Gemma Chan), who wants the business for herself.
It's enough to make a girl exhausted, really.
Elsewhere, there's a producer who wants to option Belle's book and turn it into a movie. While Belle can see dollar signs, it's also a possible escape hatch from the, uh, damage that occurs in her life. And then there's that crooked copper lurking around on the periphery, one with a certain interest in Belle that goes way beyond professionalism and a loyalty to Stephanie...
The first four episodes of Season Four, provided to press for review, show the blend of playfulness and vulnerability that we've come to expect from Secret Diary of a Call Girl, along with a healthy dose of sexuality and a never-ending parade of male foibles in the form of Belle's clients: a member of Queen's Council with a reliance on performance-enhancing drugs, a virginal young man, and that copper who has quite an active imagination and requires some very specific details to enact his happiness.
I don't want to spoil too much of the plot but these installments are in keeping with both the characters we've come to know and love and some new situations and tensions for them as well. There's a deftness and a wink-and-a-smile cleverness to the subtext here and the consideration of Belle's line of work and how it affects her personal life, how that hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold trope we've seen so many times might or might not apply here and that Belle might be far stronger or far more scared than any of those other working girls.
At times dark, jubilant, and hysterical, we're seeing the pieces fall into place for Belle as a major decision looms before her in the final season of Secret Diary. Pushed into the role of girlfriend, mother, career girl, the future might be Belle's oyster, but it's also about to clamp down right around her...
The fourth and final season of Secret Diary of a Call Girl begins tonight at 10 pm ET/PT on Showtime. Continue reading full story...
