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.