This year, I decided to put my Cineworld card to good use and try to watch every Best Picture nominee for this year’s Oscars.
They’re quite a varied bunch, each film has something worth celebrating in it and, apart from Call Me By Your Name, I managed to see them all before the ceremony.
So here’s a quick little post with my thoughts on eight of the nine nominees.
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri: Frances McDormand plays a grieving mother who is fed up with the police’s lack of progress in their investigation of her daughter’s killer and decides to take matters into her own hands.
Her unpredictable quest for justice has consequences which are both darkly funny and immensely tragic -the film switches from hilarious to heartbreaking so quickly it can cause whiplash.
All the characters are believable, perfectly-performed, and well-served by a script that features verbose and vulgar one-liners mixed with moving sentiments.
The Post: Sometimes, it’s nice to just watch a group of actors you know and love doing some capital-A Acting, even if the film itself isn’t very remarkable.
Hanks, Streep, and a cast full of people from a few of my favourite TV shows stand around in newsrooms and mansions debating over whether or not to publish classified government documents about the Vietnam war.
The film flies through the plot and is always entertaining but it’s not as good as most of the other nominees.
One suspects it got in because it’s a Steven Spielberg film with topical subject matter and the Academy wanted to give Meryl Streep yet another nomination.
Near the end, there is quite a lot of slightly-melodramatic talk about how Journalism Is Very Important but, funnily enough, I didn’t really mind.
Darkest Hour: Gary Oldman is terrific in a film which is otherwise perfectly fine.
Joe Wright pulls off some distracting and self-consciously stylish direction in a failed attempt to make his slightly-above-average film look better than it actually is.
The true story of all the political infighting just before the Dunkirk evacuation is worth telling, but it would be more interesting to show the fighting on the beaches rather than Churchill talking about the fighting on the beaches.
Dunkirk: Oh hey, what are the chances?
Watching Dunkirk was one of the best cinema experiences I had last year – a tense, terrifying and very very LOUD assault on the senses.
The soundtrack, the practical effects, the unusual structure, and the sound design all work together perfectly to make a memorably immersive experience.
I fear that its effect will be somewhat diminished when watched on the small screen because without the breathtaking spectacle, it’s fairly light on plot and character, which would make a re-watch at home underwhelming (I call this the Gravity effect).
Phantom Thread: Watching this was one of those odd occasions where even though it’s clear that everyone behind and in front of the camera is immensely talented, even though the film is immaculately made, it still left me cold.
There are flashes of brilliance in its exploration of the relationship between Daniel Day Lewis’ posh controlling man-child fashion designer and Vicky Krieps’ waitress who isn’t as innocent as she first appears, but when it ended I felt unsatisfied without being able to fully articulate why.
It’s been showered with praise but I’ve struggled to muster much enthusiasm for it.
Lady Bird: This gentle coming-of-age drama about a California teenager who is desperate to leave home and live somewhere more exciting is deceptively simple.
The way it flits through the life of its titular protagonist and sketches out the convincing and complex relationships she has with everyone else in the town is done with such seemingly-effortless ease that the film could be dismissed as lightweight or unimpressive when it is anything but.
It’s warm, touching, clearly made with lots of affection, and just really, really lovely. At the start I was amused but fairly nonplussed, then by the end I was moved to tears.
The perfect Mother’s Day film.
Get Out: The fact that a comedic horror-satire got a Best Picture nomination is a bit of a surprise, but a welcome one.
Daniel Kaluuya is fantastic as the black boyfriend who is invited to his WASP girlfriend’s mansion and begins to suspect that something deeply disturbing is being hidden from him.
It’s strange, funny, topical, uncomfortable, and enjoyably creepy. Its nomination is made all the more impressive by the fact that it’s Jordan Peele’s first ever film.
It won’t win, though.
The Shape Of Water: Hopefully, this will.
Guillermo Del Toro’s visionary and unashamedly-sentimental fantasy historical-drama is one of the weirdest Best Picture nominees ever.
Bathed in beautiful blues and greens, accompanied by a romantic Alexandre Desplat score, and set in a wonderfully-realised version of 1960s America, the film portrays that classic, timeless love story of a mute woman who falls for a fish-monster.
Building an entire movie around a girl-meets-koi romance is a fairly risky decision, but Sally Hawkins and Doug Jones make this relationship genuinely convincing – no, I can’t believe I’m saying that either.
Any initial scepticism is destroyed by the scene where, without saying a single word, Sally tells her neighbour why the strange creature who was brought into the secret government lab where she works as a cleaner is so important to her.
The fact that this film works at all, let alone works as well as it does, is near-miraculous and deserves recognition.
After writing at length about how much I enjoyed American Gods, here’s the usual round-up of the rest of my favourite shows of the year,
The Good Place – “Dance Dance Resolution”/”The Trolley Problem”
After mining comedy gold from offices in The Office (US), local governments in Parks and Recreation, and police stations in Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Michael Schur has tackled a more ambitious environment in his newest series – the afterlife.
The Good Place follows Eleanor Shellstrop (Kristen Bell) from the moment she’s told some very good and very bad news: the bad news is, well, she’s dead, but the good news is she’s now in the Good Place, a version of heaven where all of humanity’s best and brightest live out eternity in a blissful wonderland paired up with their soulmate as a reward for all the good they did during their time on Earth.
However, Eleanor didn’t do much good while she was alive, quite the opposite in fact, and feels that she must have ended up here by mistake.
American sitcoms don’t usually concern themselves too much with plot, as they’re often content to just act as a comfortable half-hour hangout where characters deal with their day-to-day lives at a leisurely pace while getting involved in increasingly-daft misadventures.
This show is different.
It delights in constantly surprising us with different aspects of its surreal setting and new information about Eleanor and her neighbours, then ending every episode in a cliffhanger that leaves us dying to see what happens next.
The plot is so chock-full of big reveals that talking about the second season without spoiling anything is actually a very difficult task.
What I can say is it’s absolutely brilliant, hilarious, and endlessly-inventive.
Highlights so far include ‘Dance Dance Resolution’, which doesn’t stop to take a breath as it zips through several seasons of potential storylines in one dizzying episode, and ‘The Trolley Problem’, where Eleanor and her friends try to explain human concepts of morality to a higher being through an ethics lesson that spirals out of control.
Following Eleanor’s experiences with her ethics professor ‘soulmate’ Chidi (William Jackson Harper), the posh British socialite next door (Jameela Jamil), all-knowing AI assistant Janet (D’Arcy Carden), and the neighbourhood’s supernatural architect and guardian Michael (Ted Danson, clearly having a great time in the role) is great fun and I can’t wait to see what future episodes have in store for them.
(The Good Place is on Netflix)
Mr Robot – “Runtime Error’/’Kill Process’
Picking up immediately after the ending of its divisive second season, Mr Robot quickly tackles the criticisms of that season by clearing up much of the confusion over character motivations and filling in gaps in the narrative which were infuriatingly teased but left unexplained throughout 2016’s episodes.
The psychological conspiracy thriller puts the emphasis firmly back on ‘thriller’ with a fast-paced rollercoaster of a season which focuses on a newly-motivated Elliot (Rami Malek) attempting to undo some of the damage his well-intentioned revolution has caused.
This goal puts him in direct conflict with powerful forces that have mysterious motives while his nearest and dearest hide devastating secrets from him.
Meanwhile, the show’s continued exploration of the rise of digital currency, the ever-widening gap between rich and poor, and the loss of privacy in the digital age makes it as timely as ever.
To call it a return to form would be a bit of an insult to season two, which I quite liked despite its issues – and its emphasis on character and backstory made a great foundation for this season to build on – but these new episodes are astoundingly good.
They’re full of memorable moments, shocking twists and astoundingly cool and clever tricks, and they maintain the show’s signature atmosphere of dread and disorientation.
‘Runtime Error’ follows Elliot and Angela (Portia Doubleday) in real time as he has a bad day at work and she struggles to follow instructions, tracking them in a way that makes the whole episode look like one long uninterrupted shot.
Far from being just a gimmick, this is an impressive and immersive way of building tension during a crucial day in the life of these characters – it’s thrillingly-executed, ambitious and just a hell of a lot of fun, even as the tension keeps relentlessly building over 45 long minutes.
Then ‘Kill Process’ sustains this tension by constantly cutting between several characters as Elliot tries to avert disaster and the FBI closes in on its targets until the suspense is almost unbearable, with a few gags and unexpected moments of slapstick comedy included to give viewers a bit of a breather.
The aftermath of these episodes dominates the rest of the season, as Elliot and Angela struggle to deal with what they’ve played a part in causing and the show flirts with the possibility of introducing sci-fi elements before quickly grounding itself firmly back in reality.
The cast still deliver brilliant performances, the direction is as stylish as ever, the writing is on point, the soundtrack is eclectic and Mac Quayle’s electronic score complements the action perfectly.
Most remarkable of all is that, three seasons in, it’s still very difficult to tell how this show will end, but I’m on board for whatever the future has in store.
(Mr Robot is on Amazon Prime Video)
Legion – “Chapter 7”
Legion is like watching an eight-episode psychedelic fever-dream.
The series sticks the viewer firmly inside the head of David Haller (Dan Stevens), who begins to suspect that the voices and visions he hears and sees, the same voices and visions that have lead to him being sent to a psychiatric hospital, may actually be real.
He might not be insane, but he may be insanely powerful.
David starts a relationship with another patient (Rachel Keller) just before he is caught up in a battle between a sinister government agency who wants to experiment on him and a misfit band of rebellious mutants who want to help him control his powers.
Film and TV are saturated with stories about superheroes these days, but Legion is unique.
It’s bursting with style, creativity, and confidence, flicking between reality, memories, nightmares and something else altogether at such a dizzying pace that it is, at first, a bit difficult to keep track of what’s what.
Thankfully, this is not a show that obfuscates and confuses just for the sake of it.
Things settle down slightly as David gets a better grasp of his abilities and the plot, which is fairly straightforward when all the visual pyrotechnics and unreliable narration are stripped away, reveals itself.
Each episode has an audacious showstopper of a sequence designed to leave jaws on the floor and minds well and truly boggled, and the main cast all give excellent performances.
It is, quite simply, one of the most impressive shows on TV right now.
(Legion is on DVD, Bluray, and NOW TV)
Doctor Who – “World Enough and Time”/”The Doctor Falls”
Taking a year off has done the show a world of good, as it returned reinvigorated with new companion Bill (Pearl Mackie) and a fantastic-as-ever performance from Peter Capaldi.
Through Bill, the familiar tropes of the show seemed fresh and exciting again, as the writers managed to find plenty of inventive ways to introduce the Doctor’s new travelling partner to his time machine, his alien features and his complex morality.
I immensely disliked Matt Lucas’ character Nardole when he was first introduced two Christmas specials ago and the news that he would become a regular was met with a loud sigh, but he proved to be a fine addition to the TARDIS team.
He’s a well-written and likeable robot-human thing who is in the unusual position of being the Doctor’s travelling partner, his intellectual equal and, occasionally, his boss.
This season was intended to be a soft reboot, a good jumping-on point for new viewers, like Matt Smith’s first season was, and it does a wonderful job of showing how diverse and ambitious this show can be, enticing new viewers and reminding old ones why they like it so much.
Its first half features a string of great episodes that show Bill struggling to get used to the implausible sights and sounds she’s experiencing with this eccentric, wild-haired old Scottish man.
Even the episodes with plots that sound God-awful on paper (killer puddles, deadly emoji robots, etc) are surprisingly decent, and a few of the rest are the best in recent memory.
Victorian caper ‘Thin Ice’ is a perfect example of what a stand-alone Doctor Who episode should be, with a cool and unusual setting, a mysterious monster, good jokes, and well-performed character drama caused by a conflict between the differing perspectives of the Doctor and his companion, while space-zombie chiller ‘Oxygen’ has an intriguing premise, good twists, and – gasp – actual lasting consequences for the Doctor.
But these episodes, as good as they are, aren’t the ones mentioned at the top of this entry. With ‘World Enough and Time’ and ‘The Doctor Falls’, Stephen Moffat, in his final year as showrunner, has managed to outdo himself.
His tenure has been far from perfect and he’s written some cringe-worthy dreck over the years, but these two episodes show off everything he’s best at: cleverly-constructed out-of-sequence storytelling, impressive quotable speeches that show a keen understanding of the Doctor’s character, and well-devised concepts that are not just ‘scary for kids’ but scary full-stop.
‘World Enough and Time’ starts amusingly enough, with Moffat cramming in a few more self-referential ‘Doctor Who?’ gags while he still can, then it abruptly turns into a nightmare that gets darker and grimmer and bleaker as the minutes tick by before ending on an iconic final shot and a heartbreaking cliffhanger.
‘The Doctor Falls’ is about as cheery as its title suggests, putting the Doctor and Bill in a situation where it seems actually impossible for them to succeed and there’s an inescapable feeling of inevitable death over the whole episode because both writer and viewer know full well that Capaldi’s incarnation of the Doctor is on the way out.
All this doom and gloom is occasionally interrupted by one baddie merrily chewing the scenery and some touching moments from a surprising source.
Capaldi’s time as the Doctor has seemed oddly brief compared to his immediate predecessors, despite having as many full seasons as Tennant and Smith, but it’s great that he’s going out on such a high.
(Doctor Who is on DVD and Bluray)
Better Call Saul – “Chicanery”/”Fall”/”Lantern”
Another year, another stellar season of Saul. After opening with a couple of episodes that seemed like they were intentionally trying to frustrate those who complain that BCS is far too slow, the show ramped up to a long-awaited mid-season showdown between the brothers McGill.
The rest of the season explored the aftermath of that courtroom battle, which saw the first proper manifestation of Jimmy’s ‘Saul Goodman’ persona.
This was also the year that Better Call Saul became more like the Breaking Bad spin-off it was expected to be when it was first announced, with more characters from the original show popping up and playing key roles – the most notable one being Gus Fring.
I sometimes wonder whether this series would work for someone who’s never seen Breaking Bad.
Better Call Saul still does because it manages to skilfully introduce more explicit ties to its predecessor without letting them take over the show and steal the spotlight from Jimmy.
Though Mike’s meetings with Gus and Nacho’s dealings with the Salamancas are gripping and also work as fanservice that doesn’t feel gratuitous, Jimmy’s slow transformation into Saul is still very much the focus.
In “Fall”, Jimmy is finally the amoral asshole he was always going to become, using his persuasive charm to manipulate and deceive one of his clients as the audience watches, stunned at his complete lack of empathy or remorse and finding themselves suddenly starting to hate this lovable wise-guy they’ve followed for three seasons.
This episode and the finale, “Lantern”, are a rough one-two punch that act as a dramatic reminder that, despite its slower, low-key feel, Better Call Saul can be just as shocking, upsetting and devastating as Breaking Bad when it really wants to be.
(Better Call Saul is on Netflix)
Fargo – “Aporia”/”Somebody to Love”
While it was good to have Fargo back, something just wasn’t clicking at first.
The characters were the sort of motley crew that wouldn’t feel out of place in either of the previous seasons, there was the requisite moment of shocking violence to kick off the plot, and the performances were all top-notch, especially Ewan McGregor playing the dual roles of Emmit and Ray Stussy.
During the slow early episodes, there was a well-executed episode-long diversion to another city that was like a short story tangentially-related to the tale the rest of the season was telling, which seemed like the sort of cheeky, vaguely-experimental creative decision I’d be going gaga over in previous years.
But not this year. I was appreciative but distant, not fully engaged in the story this time around for reasons I couldn’t explain.
Then, around the half-way mark, something changed. The stakes were suddenly raised, dots were joined, ill-thought-out actions were having horrible consequences and I suddenly found myself caring immensely about characters I had previously thought of as quirky but fairly flat.
At the same time, the theme of the season was being hammered home with little-to-no subtlety but at least now I had a better understanding of what the show was trying to say, and it was saying it through the snaggle-toothed, bleeding-gummed mouth of the villainous V.M. Varga.
David Thewlis’ deliciously disgusting scene-stealing performance as this human ooze is a sight to behold.
His larger-than-life loan shark rambles about irrelevant trivia to sound clever and disarm his victims before telling lies so effortlessly that they became accepted truth through the sheer conviction of his slimy delivery.
Truth is the theme of the season, as the show confronts the lie it inherited from the film it’s based on which has appeared at the start of every single episode: “This is a true story.”
It examines how easily the truth can be distorted, moulded and transfigured for the malicious ends of the powerful and the greedy (no real-world subtext here, no sir), and how, sometimes, the truth is knowingly disregarded and deemed unnecessary when the lie is more convenient.
This analysis is wrapped in the riotously-entertaining second half of the season which features more of those cheeky, vaguely-experimental creative decisions that I normally go gaga for – and this time I did.
Back on the top TV list you go, Fargo.
(Fargo is on DVD, Bluray, and Netflix)
Honourable mentions: Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events – “The Miserable Mill” (both parts), Blue Planet 2 – “The Deep”, Marvel’s The Defenders – “Royal Dragon”, Game of Thrones – “The Spoils of War”, Bojack Horseman – “Thoughts and Prayers”, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend – “Josh’s Ex-Girlfriend is Crazy.”
This genre-defying series based on a Neil Gaiman novel follows a convict (Ricky Whittle) who is released from prison early after his wife dies.
That tragedy soon becomes the least of his worries when he meets a mysterious stranger (Ian McShane) on the flight home who offers him a job as a bodyguard.
Shadow Moon (yes, that’s the convict’s actual name but bear with me) is then drawn into a world he doesn’t understand, a world where old gods that came to America centuries ago, brought into the country by immigrants who believed in them, now wander around lost and bored and far from the height of their powers.
In the meantime, humanity has channelled its belief into man-made concepts like media, technology and globalisation, creating new gods that are quickly becoming unstoppable.
The show explores old myths from foreign lands and creates new ones right in the middle of 21st-century America: a fateful game of checkers against the god of war, a meeting between a salesman and a djinn that gives both of them new purpose, and a mortal’s chance encounter with a love goddess which ends with her swallowing him whole.
Before working on this, the series’ co-creator Bryan Fuller had just finished turning a crime thriller about a cannibal into a grandiose, mythical confrontation between good and evil and now he’s turned his eye towards adapting a book about an epic confrontation between actual, honest-to-god Gods, which is the sort of subject matter that fits perfectly with his love of the melodramatic, stylish and surreal. Everything is turned up to 12, because 11 just isn’t enough.
Despite having a rock-solid suspension of disbelief that has withstood all sorts of high-concept nonsense over the years and remained intact – six increasingly-insane seasons of Lost, dozens of dumb Doctor Who storylines, the arty-farty third season of Hannibal – I found it difficult to get on board with American Gods at first. As the credits rolled on episode one, I stared at the screen speechless and baffled, but not in a good way.
It was the two mid-season episodes “A Head Full of Snow” and “Git Gone” which fully sold me on it.
The former went from a touching exploration of death to a rooftop conversation that’s filmed like a fairytale to a tense high-stakes rematch to an unexpected love story between two strangers to a comical heist to a moment of pure wonder, all without skipping a beat. It was a seriously impressive and seamless series of scenes that fully displayed the show’s high ambitions and abilities.
Then “Git Gone” resolved the moment from episode one that had caused my previously-mentioned bafflement in a way that was unexpected, satisfying, and absolutely hilarious.
There are a lot of things about American Gods that viewers may find difficult to accept, but belief is a central theme of the show and this disbelief, if anything, helps us relate to the show’s protagonist, who is just as bewildered and overwhelmed by what he’s witnessing as we are.
He is the stoic centre around which the crazy and colourful cast of characters revolve and though he’s perhaps the least interesting character, he is the most important.
Shadow’s endless road trip around America with his eccentric employer makes up the fairly-thin plot of the show, which often prefers to leave the pair entirely and show us little unconnected vignettes about the old gods’ journeys to the country and what they’re getting up to these days.
This is why, after eight lengthy episodes, it still feels like the story’s barely getting started and we’ve only gone a few chapters into the 600-page book that the show’s based on, but it’s hard to complain when the performances are this good and it’s so easy to be enchanted by American Gods‘ dreamlike visuals.
It’s happy to leave us wanting more, and I’m happy to wait as long as Michael Green and Bryan Fuller don’t stretch this out for too long – oh, they’ve left the show.
Yes, as 2017 began to draw to a close, the pair abruptly exited after creative differences with the show’s network. Apparently, the budget was ballooning into the tens of millions without attracting the audience that would make that expenditure worthwhile
It remains to be seen how this will affect the show – most of season two’s scripts have already been written and it still has the same talented cast and crew, but it won’t quite be the same without Green and Fuller’s style and sensibilities.
Much of this year was spent getting used to my new full-time high-pressure job in an unfamilar town surrounded by strangers who soon became good friends or important contacts.
Luckily, despite an increasingly busy schedule, I still found time to read a few books. These were my favourites.
Tenth of December – George Saunders
Hype can be a dangerous thing.
A couple of pull-quotes on the front cover of a book can be good for attracting potential readers, but it’s all-too-easy to overdo them, to plaster the cover and front-load the first few pages with so many superlatives that the readers’ expectations become so impossibly-high that the book can no longer reach them.
This was the case with The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead, a novel following the perilous journey of an escaped slave, which was showered with prizes and praise earlier this year.
Along with the usual short snippets from positive reviews on the front cover, the book had an extra cardboard flap behind the front cover full of lengthy paragraphs promising that the story was an unforgettable future classic with writing that was similar to half a dozen different literary greats, followed by a few pages which featured even more examples of critics singing its praises at the top of their lungs.
This absurd amount of hyperbole ended up hurting the book instead of helping it.
The Underground Railroad is a well-told tale with a great protagonist, an interesting structure, fully-developed characters and moments of extreme tension, sorrow and joy, yet I still felt a slight twinge of disappointment when I finished it because it had been merely excellent rather than an unquestionable masterpiece.
George Saunders also received a lot of acclaim this year for his new novel and I noticed that one of his short story collections, Tenth of December, had been gathering dust on my shelf, so the time seemed right to give it a go.
I glanced warily at the cover quotes suggesting that it was ‘the best book you’ll read this year’ and that George Saunders was ‘the best short story writer in English’, though compared to The Underground Railroad‘s cover this was fairly restrained and understated.
After skipping the introduction because it was 20 pages long – longer than some of the actual short stories in the collection – and because it began by repeating the ‘best book you’ll read this year’ comment which made me concerned that the rest of it would be similarly hyperbolic, I began the first story.
250 surreal, whimsical, disturbing, intense, laugh-out-loud funny and – quite often – extremely moving pages later, it was clear that the promises of the cover quote had been kept.
These stories are incredible.
They range from slice-of-life character dramas to sci-fi-inflected satires, they focus on dark and uncomfortable subjects but also have a silly sense of humour that doesn’t feel out of place, and Saunders writes with sympathy for his characters while putting them into desparate situations and observing how they cope.
So, with more than a little surprise, I must echo what the critics have said, because, once in a while, against all odds, despite their fondness for hyperbole, they’re right.
George Saunders has written the best book you’ll read this year.
The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood
At the start of the year, soon after America inaugurated its new president, there was a sudden boom in sales of classic dystopian literature. What a coincidence.
The biggest bestseller was The Handmaid’s Tale, a chilling look at a society where women are treated as little more than walking wombs after a catastrophe which decimated the population of the USA and lead to widespread scapegoating of Muslims was used by an extreme right-wing Christian regime to stage a coup and strip women of their rights and freedoms.
In this new America, many women are assigned to wealthy married men as Handmaids, mistresses who must procreate with the head of the household since radiation has left the wives sterile.
Offred is our narrator and guide to this horrible society. She tells us about her miserable life, the life she once had, and how she got from there to here – the family and friends she lost along the way, the strict inhumane Aunts who taught her the rules of this new order, the day-to-day life of a Commander’s slave.
Her tale is a testimonial, a historical document from someone living under a totalitarian regime who wants to tell future scholars what it was like to live in such miserable conditions.
Abortion doctors are strung up on hooks on the Wall that encloses the community, uncomfortable quasi-religious ceremonies and rituals are unavoidable, women less fortunate than Offred (yes, that’s possible) regard her with hate and jealousy.
It’s all very bleak, yet it reads like a page-turning thriller with sharp lashings of wit, sympathy for characters who at first glance seem callous and even the possibility of hope.
Her story provokes plenty of questions that remain unanswered due to Offred’s limited perspective and it ends on an ambiguous note that’s frustrating but rings true, as it provokes the same feeling that anyone who’s ever perused personal letters in a history museum exhibit about any historical atrocity, only to find that the letter ends with a paragraph saying ‘It is unknown what happened to X after this was written, but there are several possibilities…’ will find familiar.
Berlin Stories – Robert Walser
In May 2016, I travelled to Berlin for three weeks as part of a work experience project. While I was there, I bought numerous books which were by German authors or about German history or just had the word ‘Berlin’ in the title because I planned to read one of them during that same three week period next May, and the May after that, and so on.
As this May began, I didn’t have the time or concentration to commit to a massive tome, so Robert Walser’s slim collection of even-slimmer pieces of writing about his time living and working in Berlin was the perfect book for this hectic period.
Rarely longer than four pages each, many of these notes and musings do a lot with very little. Walser’s joy in describing the minutiae of city life is infectious, expressed in lengthy paragraphs of conversational, personable, and endearingly rambling prose.
Sections near the end of the book have a more reflective and melancholic mood but are no less engaging and wonderfully imagined.
It’s like an old, exceptionally eloquent traveller telling you about where he’s been and though his anecdotes are all rather mundane, his storytelling ability and careful observations elevate them immensely.
It usually takes me a couple of minutes to read a couple of pages yet I spent considerably longer on some pieces in this book, like ‘Friedrichstrasse, ‘The Metropolitan Street’ or ‘The Theater, A Dream’, as I kept going back and re-reading, pausing on a particularly nice turn of phrase, or just waiting a while before reading the last couple of lines to let it all sink in.
The bar has been set very high for whatever I decide to read next May.
Before the Fall – Noah Hawley
This tense, character-driven thriller about a mysterious plane crash, written by the creator of two of the best shows in recent years, seems almost like it was tailor-made for me.
After all, a character-driven thriller about a mysterious plane crash was a teenage obsession of mine, so when I discovered that the creator of Fargoand Legion had somehow found the time to write a book in-between planning, writing and directing the two shows, it was an obvious instant-buy.
Before the Fall examines the malleability of truth by looking at how an amoral journalist at a ratings-hungry 24-hour news network covers the aftermath of the disaster and how he affects the reputations of the survivors and the relatives of the dead through his wilfully-misleading and unethical reporting.
Down-on-his-luck artist Scott Burroughs becomes a last-minute addition to the list of passengers on a private jet’s flight to New York City after he meets the wife of a TV mogul hours before take-off.
When the plane unexpectedly crashes into the sea, Scott rescues the only other survivor, the mogul’s five-year-old son, by swimming several miles to shore and is quickly scrutinised by the media and the government.
As Scott attempts to adjusts to his new life in the spotlight while coming to terms with the trauma and tragedy he’s experienced, flashbacks reveal the personal histories of everyone else on the flight and offer up several possible causes for the crash before some shocking and satisfying revelations in the novel’s final pages.
This page-turner is a wonderfully well-written book, full of richly-developed characters and intriguingly-structured, a gripping and satisfying read that’s tense, funny and often quietly, heartbreakingly sad.
It proves that Noah Hawley is enviously multi-talented. Hopefully, he can find time to write another novel in his increasingly-busy work schedule.
Franny and Zooey – J.D. Salinger
This “pretty skimpy-looking book”, as Salinger himself calls it in the preface, was an unexpected highlight of the year for me.
I say unexpected because the first story, in which Franny Glass spends a day with her college boyfriend that triggers a nervous breakdown, was thoroughly underwhelming. Perhaps my expectations were too high but it was fairly uninteresting and luckily the second story more than made up for it.
Remarkably, Salinger has made an engaging, painful and entertaining read out of a plot that contains little more than a letter full of family history, two lengthy conversations which turn into heated arguments, and one that doesn’t.
Zooey’s section of the book is narrated by his older brother Buddy, who calls it a “prose home movie” that lets us witness a typical day in the life at the Glass residence.
Despite being absent during the events of the actual narrative, Buddy’s presence is still keenly felt, though not as much as Franny and Zooey’s late eldest brother Seymour, who is mentioned repeatedly in hushed, reverent tones that speak volumes about how much the Glasses miss him.
All of the Glass children had been the stars of a radio quiz show and listener feedback was split: “the Glasses were a bunch of insufferably ‘superior’ little bastards that should have been drowned or gassed at birth… [or] bona-fide underage wits and savants, of an uncommon, if unenviable, order.” If your opinion of them falls into the former camp, this will be the longest 150 pages you’ve ever read.
While Zooey reads a screenplay in the bath and Franny lies in a sobbing, starving heap on the living room sofa, their long-suffering mother Bessie is worried sick trying to figure out what’s wrong with her daughter while also dealing with the painters that are redecorating the house.
She has the achingly-relatable struggle of juggling problems that are immensely important and monotonously mundane while trying not to collapse under the stress of it all.
It was surprising, and slightly concerning, to see elements of my own personality distorted, twisted and unflatteringly amplified in certain members of the Glass family.
Zooey’s well-read but comes off as smug and self-important, his sarcastic smart-arsery regularly crosses the line from cheeky to cruel and his apologetic self-awareness about this bad habit doesn’t make his harsh jibes any more forgiveable.
Buddy’s need to reflexively criticise his own work as a self-deprecating tactic to stop anyone else mocking it quickly becomes irritating rather than endearing.
Mrs Glass’ unhelpful but well-meaning concern for the children who seem to find her endlessly annoying is met with constant disrespect and both of the titular siblings struggle with crises of identity and second thoughts about their life choices.
Though it could easily be argued that Franny and Zooey is a rather aimless book of annoying people bickering with each other, its characters are so well-realised that it’s a shame there’s only two more ‘skimpy-looking’ books which feature them.
Salinger is adept at creating characters who are equally loved and loathed by his readers (see also: Holden Caulfield) and writing them in a way that feels real and resonant.
Honourable Mentions: The Underground Railroad – Colson Whitehead, Chronicle of a Death Foretold – Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Look At Me – Jennifer Egan, Guards! Guards! – Terry Pratchett, MR ROBOT: Red Wheelbarrow (eps1.91_redwheelbarr0w.txt) – Sam Esmail and Courtney Looney,
I regret to inform you that Netflix has made the baffling decision to turn A Series of Unfortunate Events into a different sort of series. The books, in which Lemony Snicket selflessly chronicled the tragic true tale of the Baudelaire orphans, have sold millions of copies and people all over the world have disgracefully delighted in the sorrowful story of these poor children. There is a great deal of misery contained within these volumes yet the books were sold as children’s literature, probably due to a malicious marketing mix-up.
Why anyone would think that a show involving a deadly house fire, an enormous serpent, killer leeches, dangerous lumber mill machinery, and terrible disguises would be suitable family entertainment is beyond me. It would have been far wiser and more commercially viable to make an 8-episode adaptation of the charming animated film The Littlest Elf instead.
A comic actor played the wretched villain Count Olaf in a film of the Series that plagued cinemas nationwide in 2004 but his repeated attempts to steal the Baudelaires’ fortune are no laughing matter and I daresay that, in their attempt to profit from the orphans’ misfortune, Paramount have something in common with the despicable count.
Now, another misguided attempt at adapting this miserable material has been made and Netflix has gone to great lengths to replicate the tone of the film. They even managed to clone Emily Browning and cast her as Violet again under the name of ‘Malina Weissman’.
The film attempted to condense the plot of the first three books into 90 minutes but the series is stretching this sorry affair into three seasons, prolonging the suffering of these brave, intelligent children. And casting a real baby as Sunny and thus forcing her to be part of this unpleasant production surely counts as some form of child abuse.
There are no photos of the elusive Mr Snicket that aren’t blurry or taken with a long-zoom lens from a great distance but casting Patrick Warburton as Lemony was an ingenious move by the show’s creators since he looks and sounds the exact opposite of how readers pictured Snicket in their heads, which will confound the many police officers and government officials looking for him.
A lot of care has clearly gone into this adaptation, with its storybook-style set design, very fine direction from Barry Sonnenfeld, perfectly acceptable performances, and high amounts of of whimsy – a word which here means ‘silliness and humour added in order to make the cruelty of this whole saga less upsetting’ – but nevertheless, anyone who decides to give this show a try should take its theme song’s advice and look away.
As a wannabe TV critic with nothing better to do, I have a self-imposed duty to sit helpless and watch every minute of these unfortunate events unfold in front of me but there is nothing forcing you to do the same. Be wary and be watchful, but do not watch this. There are plenty of other Netflix Originals available to view that would be more wholesome and worthwhile than this one, like the cartoon with the talking vegetables or the one about the snail that goes fast.
Do not be fooled into thinking that this is all some elaborate attempt at reverse psychology and binge it anyway or you will soon be surely dismayed to discover that A Series of Unfortunate Events contains exactly what it says on the tin.
It’s rare for me to read a book that was published recently as there are so many classics and modern greats for me to catch up on that there’s not much room on my shelves for new fiction. So, none of these books are from 2016 but they were so good that I felt compelled to write a little post about them anyway. Here are my four favourite reads of last year.
Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World – Haruki Murakami
What does a futuristic city with a mad scientist, a hapless middle-aged loner, and an economy that thrives on the big business of data protection have in common with a mystical fantasy land where unicorns graze near dark forests outside a walled Town with townfolk that discard their memories and shadows when entering through the Gates that keep them safe?
Well, more than you’d think, as the two locations anchor the seperate stories of Murakami’s weird and wonderful novel where the narratives of the city and the Town unexpectedly intertwine with and echo against each other. Alternating chapters in each setting give the novel a fast pace and plenty of cliffhangers, turning this bizarre book into an unexpected page-turner.
The futuristic Hard-Boiled Wonderland sees its nameless protagonist begin what should be a fairly simple job that becomes a complex conspiratorial headache which then escalates into a matter of life and death. The hero of this story is an unremarkable everyman with a monotonous life that is thrown into chaos by the eccentric characters he meets.
The fantastical End of the World has its protagonist, a stranger in a strange land, try to learn more about his new home and begin a new job of reading dreams from the skulls of dead beasts. The mysterious new resident reveals little about his past and his reasons for moving to this generically-named Town but is still an interesting character. The prose in these chapters is often slow, vague and abstract, which suits the beguiling but baffling place it describes, though it did force me to slow down a little as I often had to reread paragraphs to wrap my head around what was happening.
One of the best things about the book is that it’s so easy to get invested in each individual story that you’re not waiting impatiently for the two to mix. Good thing, really, as you’d be waiting quite a while, but reading about the polar-opposite lives of the book’s comically confused and quietly determined protagonists is so enjoyable that any thoughts about why or when or how HbW and EotW will connect are shoved firmly to the back of your mind. Having said that, there’s still an undeniable thrill when the first reference to the End of the World finally appears in a Hard-boiled Wonderland chapter.
Murakami is undoubtedly the most widely-known Japanese author and I’d read a lot of praise for his work over the years. This book was a nice mixture of the mad and the mundane that he’s famous for, a good starting point for a newcomer looking to jump into his vast back catalogue. The short-story collection I read next, After the Quake, was less encouraging but hopefully whichever novel of his I read next will live up to the high standard set by this one.
Fahrenheit 451 – Ray Bradbury
This gripping and alarming glimpse into a dystopian future where those who own books get their houses and literature burned to ash is a sci-fi classic that deserves all the praise that it’s been given since it was published more than 60 years ago.
It’s a short but powerful story about a fireman – that is, a man who starts fires – that begins to question why exactly he and his colleagues have to find and destroy the few houses that still have illegal books in them, and why are they illegal anyway? How could a book be considered dangerous? Why was one homeowner willing to die trying to protect them?
A confrontation with the Fire Chief reveals how this society came to be and his explanation acts as a clear warning to the reader about technology becoming a distraction which encourages complacency and prevents critical and independent thought.
This warning appears to have been somewhat ignored, as reality has become slightly closer to the world described in his novel. Of course, no books are banned or burned, but it’s rather unnerving and oddly impressive to read a description about the formation of a supposed dystopia which was written decades ago and notice several similarities with modern-day life.
A few examples: In the book, everyone walks around with earbuds in ignoring each other and the scenery. Everyone stays inside watching enormous TVs and learning nothing, distracted by empty spectacle and quizzes that reward knowledge of useless trivia. People want to seem clever and cultured without putting any effort in so they look up one-page summaries of a subject and pretend to know all about it. Complex political and societal issues are reduced to a sentence or a headline and everyone’s attention span is, to put it bluntly, fucked.
The most worrying detail about Bradbury’s imagined society is that the government’s banning of books was not a contentious issue for most of the population because when the ban was introduced most people no longer bothered to read anything, they watched TV or listened to audio-dramas and no longer saw the point of reading. The revamped fire service was created to tackle the small number of people – academics, librarians, scholars, etc – that still cared about it.
It’s a quick read and it’s wonderfully written. Bradbury’s descriptions tend to turn into poetic digressions that make the grim future which he has imagined come vividly to life.
There is anger and compassion in his storytelling. The actions of his wife and the Fire Chief cause big problems for our hero but they are still written with empathy. Bradbury is sympathetic to Mildred Montag’s sorry state, addicted to her TV ‘family’, and the boo-hiss Fire Chief is surprisingly intelligent, well-read and persuasive.
A brief note on the 60th anniversary edition of Fahrenheit 451 that I read: It features almost 100 pages of short essays and notes about the creation of the novel and its film adaptation. These essays, histories and critical analyses are written by Bradbury himself, famous admirers of his novel, and the director of the film. They were informative, interesting and added a lot to my understanding of the novel, its critical reception, its inspiration and its influence.
Good Omens – Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman
In this hilarious novel co-authored by the dearly departed Discworld creator Sir Terry Pratchett and scribble-haired gothic fantasy writer Neil Gaiman, the Rapture is rapidly approaching but things aren’t going to plan. The Antichrist has gone missing due to a careless baby-swapping error made by Crowley, a stylish demon who isn’t entirely happy with his boss’s plans and is rather fond of the planet he’s called home since the Beginning. With the help of the foppish angel Aziraphale – his best friend and also, technically, his oldest enemy – Crowley must find the missing deity before Judgement Day or all hell won’t break loose.
Meanwhile, the Four Horsemen are gathering, a demonic hell-hound is heading to Earth, the last member of a witch-hunting society is close to finding a new target and the ancient prophecies of a mad old dead woman are turning out to be bang on the money.
Hidden amid endless jokes, sharp bits of satire and footnotes poking fun at religion, the clichés of apocalyptic fiction, and life in the UK is a surprisingly complex rumination on the nature of humanity and our ongoing inner battle between being good and being bad. Don’t worry, this never comes across as preachy, as both authors care more about making you laugh than making you think, but it is there and it gives the book an unexpected depth.
Neither Pratchett nor Gaiman can remember who wrote which bit of the book and their writing styles blend together so perfectly it’s often difficult to tell. People who have read the work of either author before know what to expect but it’s also an ideal starting point for those who haven’t.
Another review I read compared this novel to being like the Book of Revelation if it were written by Douglas Adams and I’m struggling to think of a better comparison. It’s genuinely laugh-out-loud funny, playfully clever, subtly serious and has a distinctly British way of imagining Armageddon. A must-read.
The Sisters Brothers – Patrick DeWitt
This quirky Western has a very simple plot: Notorious bounty hunter brothers Charlie and Eli Sisters are tasked with travelling to California and killing a man. The execution, as it were, is what really makes this novel stand out.
During their travels, the two bickering brothers (are there any other kinds of brothers?) meet an assortment of odd and dangerous characters that test their friendship, their loyalty and their patience.
Some of these people wouldn’t be out of place in a Coen brothers movie and the novel has plenty of other things in common with their films, like the meandering idiots-on-an-epic-journey storyline of O Brother, Where Art Thou? that’s full of entertaining digressions, and the dry, dark humour of True Grit and Fargo.
The relationship between grouchy arsehole older brother Charlie and his kind, sensible younger brother Eli is, speaking as an arsehole older brother, very convincing. The novel does a good job of using their reactions to the increasingly perilous and unusual situations they stumble into to demonstrate their differences and suggest that their tenuous alliance has been slowly disintegrating long before we peeked into their lives.
DeWitt’s dialogue is fun to read and his prose is nicely descriptive and wryly observant. I impulse-bought the book based mainly on its striking cover and odd title and enjoyed it so much that I bought the rest of the author’s works soon after finishing the final page.
Honourable mentions: Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck, Pyramids by Terry Pratchett, A Visit From the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan, Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse.
After giving Planet Earth 2 and Mr Robot their own posts, here’s the rest of my favourite TV series from last year.
WESTWORLD – “The Original”/”The Bicameral Mind”
Westworld is an ambitious sci-fi western which HBO hopes will be its next Game of Thrones. With a similarly-enormous budget, it tells the story of the hosts and owners of a futuristic theme park which the richest people in the world visit to indulge their imaginations and play around in a sprawling area full of old-timey saloons, dusty plains and red cliffs that look like they’ve been lifted from a classic western.
Guests can kill and cuddle with any host they want because all the hosts are actually incredibly-lifelike robots, each with their own programmed routine that they play out day after day, with limited amounts of improvisation allowed when interacting with the wealthy wannabe-westerners that meet them. The technology for their ‘thoughts’ and the scripts for their storylines are worked on by a team of behind-the-scenes boffins including Bernard (Jeremy Wright), who uses his fascination with the intricacies of human behaviour to make the hosts as human as robotly possible.
Dolores (Evan Rachel Wood) is stuck in a damsel-in-distress role, spending all of her days getting raped, rescued, killed, repaired and reset, ready to face a new day of trauma. Maeve (Thandie Newton) is the madam in charge of a group of whores who ply their trade at the saloon of a small town at the entrance of the park. She watches as the guests indulge their basest desires and gets caught up in the bank robbery that happens without fail every afternoon.
Meanwhile, Logan (Ben Barnes) shows his co-worker William (Jimmi Simpson) around the park and William is appalled by the way that Logan treats the hosts like expendable characters in a videogame, but Logan argues that that’s the entire point of the park: to treat the humanoid hosts as badly as he wants with no consequences. There’s also a nameless regular visitor wandering around trying to find a deeper level to the park’s theatrics because he’s become bored with the standard storylines.
It all kicks off when a new update that allows the hosts to use memories of their earlier experiences to improve their improv has unexpected side-effects – Dolores starts vividly reliving the horrors of her past and Maeve grapples with a new unsettling feeling of deja-vu. The park’s owner and co-creator Dr Robot Ford (Sir Anthony Hopkins, clearly relishing the meaty material he’s been given) is working on a grand new narrative for his park and won’t let a minor technological hiccup like this stop him from completing it.
The hosts are becoming self-aware and sentient and furious, and their mysterious, menacing creator, perhaps unsurprisingly, has a bit of a god complex. Clearly, everything’s going to go horribly wrong. But how? And when?
The first season of Westworld was very promising. Its first episode was immediately engaging, immaculately-directed and exceptionally well-performed, introducing its intricate world in a way that was entertaining and fairly easy to understand. The show could easily become the mega-hit that HBO is hoping it’ll be.
Wood and Newton are both outstanding as the hosts who deal with their increasing awareness in very different ways and try to get their bearings as their pasts mix with their present. It should be no surprise that a show created by Jonathan Nolan, who also wrote Memento, has a plot that pivots around problems with recollection and unreliable memories.
The show tries to balance the fun crowd-pleasing cowboy adventures in the park with the sinister science and philosophical ‘What does it mean to be human?’ discussions in the cold glass offices of the park’s hidden headquarters. It’s a tricky mixture of moods but the soundtrack by Ramin Djawadi (working on this between seasons of Game of Thrones) expertly moves from barnstorming action to creepy contemplation and back again.
Westworld likes to keep its cards frustratingly close to its chest, which results in a lot of time mid-season where characters seem to be this close to revealing the answers to its many mysteries but then decide to be coy instead. Fortunately, the feature-length finale is full of so many big reveals and bombshells that change our understanding of what was going on that it practically demands a re-watch of the whole season. And there’ll be plenty of time to do that – the next episodes aren’t airing ’til 2018…
(Oh, and beware of spoilers and theories! I accidentally glanced at some fan-theories while reading reviews and comments about the show as it aired, then was annoyed and a little surprised when many of them – even ones that I dismissed for seeming too outlandish and unlikely – ended up being 100% accurate.)
BLACK MIRROR – “San Junipero”
Another excellent sci-fi that uses technology to explore the darkest depths of humanity was a big hit this year. Charlie Brooker’s timely anthology returned to find more ways to make viewers pessimistic and paranoid about their iPhones. It’s one of the most original shows of the 21st century, its genius writing has attracted top talent both in front of and behind the camera, with big stars, directors and composers from the silver screen eager to be involved and doing incredible work, but it still feels odd to say that I was looking forward to it – is it possible to look forward to something that’s always so bleak?
Watching this can be a thoroughly unpleasant experience, a brutal punch to the stomach that leaves many who view it feeling drained, depressed and unable to even think of seeing the next episode until they’ve had a long break. This last quality makes it an odd choice for Netflix, which has shows that are tailor-made for a lengthy binge, but the streaming service became the show’s new home in 2016.
This was an experimental season, playing with expectations of what viewers expect from an episode of Black Mirror, taking its usual themes about the dangers of misused tech and applying them to different genres and styles. It incorporated the hatred-through-hashtags of a social media mob into a feature-length police procedural, used a virtual reality game to do a playful horror pastiche and explored the rapid evolution of military equipment in an episode that resembled a war movie.
Its first episode, a darkly-comic satire exploring a world where online ratings are applied to real people, was a good way to introduce the show to a global audience. Filmed in soft pastel colours that masked the script’s bite, with plenty of laugh-out-loud moments and an ending that’s bittersweet rather than bleak, it was a nicely-accessible ep that eased new viewers in and introduced them to Black Mirror‘s rather twisted view of the world without scaring them away.
The highlight of the season, and probably the entire series so far, was “San Junipero”, an episode which came about after Brooker decided to mess with those who complained that his show about 21st-century-and-beyond Britain would now be too Americanised and different. He did this by writing an episode set in America. In the past.
It revolves around the romance between a shy tourist visiting a nightclub in the titular town and the confident girl she meets and falls in love with. A lot of time is spent establishing this unusual ’80s setting, the beautiful beaches and bright neon of the seaside paradise all alluringly-filmed by Gustav Danielsson and synthily-scored by Clint Mansell, and the relationship between its opposites-attract couple Kelly and Yorkie, played perfectly by Gugu Mbatha-Raw and Mackenzie Davis.
There are things in this episode that are rather atypical for Black Mirror, and not just the setting. There is kindness. There is joy. There is compassion. There is hope and optimism. All of this comes as a welcome relief, particularly after the harrowing “Shut Up and Dance” episode that preceded it, but there is still an ever-present worry, not created by the episode itself, but by us. After several episodes of rug-pulls and horrible twists and big reveals that make the characters’ lives immeasurably worse, it’s difficult to watch this happy couple as we wait nervously for the surely-inevitable Bad Thing to happen, hoping desperately that maybe, just this once, things will be alright in the end.
After 6 episodes of sadness and surprises which featured more nightmarish visions of the future while also breaking away from the formula the show established in its first two seasons, it feels like the show can do anything now, the possibilities are endless, which is an exciting prospect for the future of the series.
GAME OF THRONES – “Battle of the Bastards”/”The Winds of Winter”
The phenomenal fantasy finished its sixth season with a climactic battle and a finale that was quite possibly the best episode of the whole show.
Once again, the penultimate episode focussed on a big-budget bust-up in one area of the Seven Kingdoms, with a Messianic Jon Snow (Kit Harrington) facing off against the biggest of bastards Ramsay Bolton (Iwan Rheon) in a field near Winterfell. The location wasn’t quite as dramatic as previous skirmishes at the Wall or King’s Landing but it gave the episode a gritty, realistic feel and quickly became a muddy graveyard of vastly-outnumbered Night’s Watch members and Bolton soldiers.
Impressive direction from Miguel Sapochnik (who also directed the next episode, more on that in a bit) turned a show full of dragons and ice zombies into a medieval Saving Private Ryan with heart-stopping moments like Ramsay’s cruel hostage negotiation, the CGI-free shot of Jon facing a stampede of cavalry, or the claustrophobic first-person view of him struggling to escape a disturbingly-large pile of corpses as the Bolton army closes in.
Game of Thrones has produced some incredibly cinematic setpieces over the years but it’s outdone itself with this episode, which opens with Danaerys saving her city from a siege by unleashing her dragons on the unsuspecting attackers. It’s a thrilling scene which would be the standout highlight of a normal episode but it gets overshadowed by the gruelling, grounded intensity of the conflict that follows.
The season closed with “The Winds of Winter”, which was essentially 60 minutes of pure, concentrated pay-off. Every storyline in the series reached an emotional high-point and featured lots of satisfying surprises and scenes which we’ve been wanting to see for years, including a final image which the show has been building up to since its first episode.
The opening 20 minutes lead up to a moment I daren’t spoil and this section alone would have catapulted the episode to the top of the Best Episodes table, its slow build of tension and unease established from the very beginning by the small, simple idea to use piano in the soundtrack for the first time (that Ramin Djawadi, what a guy). The rest of the episode keeps up this high standard, delivering scene after scene of resolution, confrontation and, of course, death (this is Game of Thrones after all).
Even the cringe-worthy Dorne storyline got a promising development, as bitchy grandmother/secret best character Olenna Tyrell (Diana Rigg) sailed over to sort out the mess the Martells had made and give them some much-deserved mockery.
The stage is all set for Game of Thrones‘ final act. With just two shortened seasons left, the end is in sight and not many main characters have managed to get this far. Now to wait and see whether Westeros will be overrun by White Walkers or scorched by dragons, and who will sit on that damn Iron Throne, if there’s anyone with a pulse left by the last episode.
BETTER CALL SAUL – “Nailed”/”Klick”
Better Call Saul is on track to equal or even surpass the show it spun-off from. Oh, did I say that last time? Well, it’s still true, especially after a season like this one which built on its first to give a compelling exploration of the fractious relationship between the McGill brothers, nudge Jimmy (Bob Odenkirk) further along his path to becoming Saul in a way that feels completely organic, and spend more time on its secret weapon Kim (Rhea Seehorn) who often reaps the consequences of Jimmy’s actions.
BCS is a patient, methodical show that is happy to take its sweet time with every scene but is rarely dull. It likes to play with how we see its characters, giving depth to those who seem one-dimensionally mean, revealing flaws in its good-ish guy protagonist, constantly changing how we view Chuck (Michael McKean), and making it clear that it’s not just Jimmy who’s different to his Bad self – Mike (Jonathan Banks) isn’t yet the ruthless hitman we meet in the original series.
We spend so much time seeing the everyday minutiae and silent inner struggles of these character’s lives that when something momentous does happen, it hits like a truck. One worrying scene in “Nailed” ends with a sound that made me recoil and cover my mouth in horror, and a disorienting, agonisingly-long take of a character being prodded and questioned by doctors while on a gurney is one of the most distressing scenes I’ve seen all year. The finale ends with one of those Important Conversations that are this show’s bread and butter, capped with a quiet click (or “Klick”, I suppose) that has the same impact as a gunshot.
The show also has a subtle silliness which appears in both Jimmy and Mike’s storylines. Though Mike tends to deal with grisly violence and action-heavy material, his old-codger weariness and blunt attitude provides more than a few laughs.
Saul‘s behind-the-scenes crew is made up of many of the same people who worked on Breaking Bad, which means that its writing, direction and music are all reliably high-quality. The references to its predecessor are still slipped in seamlessly and, excitingly, “Klick” heavily implies that a huge one is coming in season three.
SENSE8 – “A Christmas Special”
Sneaking onto the list at the last minute is Sense8, which returned for a feature-length special this Christmas. Functioning as both a reintroduction to the series and a setup for season two, the special revealed what had happened to its psychically-linked characters over the last year.
The series has sometimes struggled with juggling its 8 very different storylines that follow characters in seperate parts of the world, each with their own supporting cast of other characters and varying wildly in tone and genre. However, this special expertly jumped between plots and gave everyone a significant moment in their own stories. It was just nice to spend time with these characters again after such a long absence. I didn’t realise how much I’d missed them.
The best part of Sense8 is when it uses its high-concept premise – 8 people born on the same day can communicate with each other telepathically, sharing emotions, knowledge and skills, even taking over each other’s bodies at will – to bring its characters together.
Masterfully-edited from gorgeous footage filmed several weeks apart at different locations on opposite ends of the globe, these scenes, whether they’re small conversations between two sensates struggling to work out what to do next or big show-stoppers like the birthday celebration, the fight, the Christmas Eve choir service and the scene where everyone, uh, comes together, are impressively well-executed and staggeringly ambitious.
No other show would even attempt most of this stuff, but the massive budget and creative freedom given to the Wachowskis by Netflix for their passion project allows them to do whatever they want. The results are stunning and often deeply moving.
There are dozens of highly-acclaimed shows nowadays which are dark or gritty or full of death, violence and despair, focussing on troubled protagonists with grim lives facing one crisis after another (e.g: well, every other entry on this list) and that’s fine in moderation but it can get a bit much.
Thank goodness, then, that a show as relentlessly optimistic and sentimental as Sense8 exists, a show where its diverse protagonists have a superpower that is basically extreme empathy, where every problem can be solved by teamwork, friendship, emotional support and the psychic equivalent of tag-team wrestling.
Even when its overly-earnest dialogue becomes mawkish, even when its efforts to connect and intertwine these storylines become confusing, it’s worth watching just because a show this bold, heartfelt, weird and so heavily focussed on the goodness in people and their potential to do great things together without race or gender or sexuality being an issue is sorely needed right now.
Honourable Mentions: The Night Of – “The Beach”, Veep – “Mother”, Stranger Things – “Holly, Jolly”, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt – “Kimmy Meets A Drunk Lady!”, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend – “When Will Josh and His Friend Leave Me Alone?”.
Thank you to everyone who’s read all of this and I hope you’ll stick around because I’m gonna keep this blog going and see what top TV 2017 brings.