Qtv Does Chelsea Does

I’ve spent my entire day with Chelsea Handler and it was a good fuckin’ day because, god dammit, I’ve missed that girl. (I really hate that “dammit” is spelled with two m’s and not an m and n, but that has nothing to do with anything, so…)

As I type this, I’m currently spending time with her and her friends doing drugs, while I do some myself (“some” being gin, tonic, and lime… because I’m hardcore, y’all) so please excuse if any of this is nonsensical. I just thought “WWCD?” and I think she would type out a review anyway.

I didn’t watch Chelsea Lately the entire time it was on the air. The reasons why hearken back to my previously [slightly] posted-about drug addictions and recovery. I just had more shit to do than watch TV, unfortunately. But I did catch an episode here and there. It was maybe the last 3 years of the show that I consistently watched every day and I’m glad I did. She gave voices to comedians that didn’t achieve the same levels of success as she was able to, which sounds super commendable, but honestly, she did it so she could have more people make her laugh. And I think that sums her up well. A selflessly generous person who is so because it selfishly makes her happy in disconnected ways. (That’s a really drunk sentence… I’ll move on.)

There are people who don’t like Chelsea. Flat-out, hands-down could not give half a shit about the woman. Those people are assholes. Because Chelsea is a pretty amazing person. If she doesn’t make you laugh, don’t follow her comedy. Don’t keep track of her so you can hate a bitch for being hatefully hilarious. She’s not bitter, in general (like I am), but she’s honest to the nth degree. I really feel like people are attracted to her mainly because she says things most people simply won’t. Not because it’s impolite, not because it’s rude, not because it’s crude, but because it’s just too honest for people to handle. I think maybe it’s a fear of being offensive that she just doesn’t have because she truly, at a gut level, does not intend any offense. She’s just being honest. Growing up in New York, I had a few grade-school teachers like her (one in particular), and the fact that they were my favorite teachers is not insignificant. I really appreciate a lack of bullshit combined with respect. So, having an entire television series designed around Chelsea Handler teaching me about shit she’s simultaneously trying to learn about? It just can’t be bad.

Watch it, y’all. It’s a good time.

At this point, I’m real extra ready for her next Netflix show. Bring it on, y’all.

P.S.: This post is dedicated to Ms. Broccoli, my 9th grade Earth Science teacher, who taught the only class I ever got straight A’s in in high school. And it wasn’t because I gave any shits about Earth.

P.P.S.: Did I really just link a television review to high school teacher? Maybe I shouldn’t do what I think Chelsea would. No more gin & tonic reviews for me. Peace out, y’all.

London Spy: TK.

Dear loyal and lovely readers of this little blog o’ mine, stop every single thing you’re doing and watch London Spy on BBC America right now.

I’ve already watched every episode in my crafty (and legal) “I have friends in the UK who Skyped with me while they watched it when it aired earlier than on BBC America” kind of way. So, my solemn promise to you is to talk about each episode once the entire run of episodes airs.

If all episodes air and you’ve watched them with baited breath waiting for my oh-so mesmerizing review of each one that never actually gets posted on this here blog, feel free to send me cyber bitch slaps until I post them as promised. (I’ll be doing the same with Hannibal, as previously promised. Just… you know… eventually. I got shit to do, y’all.)

That is all and I thank you for your time.
Stay gorgeous.

The Golden Globes. An American Crime.

I find it increasingly difficult to write about what I like. The thesaurus in my brain just keeps searching for the next positive word I could use until I get worn out and give up on the piece altogether. Perhaps my style is just that of a bitter old man who can mock some shit really well. Those negative words come really easily for me.

With that in mind, I’ll tell you what… American Crime deserves every award there is. It. Is. Good. And I’m talking about the writing, the direction, the cinematography, the editing, all the way down to the damn static camera angles. It’s fucking good.

The brain child of John Ridley, the first season of the anthology series, in a nutshell, dealt with race. The second season, also shelled, is dealing with rape. Both stories were/are being told in unexpected ways. Rather than dealing with the clear-cut “victim” character and how the scenario affects them and them alone (as most clichĂ©d crime dramas tend to do, when it’s not about solving the crime and romanticizing the officers who do so), it deals with everyone connected to the victim or the situation in question. The entire scope of the story is told. And, again, it’s told incredibly well. Which consistently leaves me in awe at the magnitude of Ridley’s brain. To paint a portrait that makes you equally empathize with the criminal in prison and the headmaster of a private school is not an easy task. Take it from me, a person who finds it hard to write nice things about shit they actually like.

That being said, let’s talk about the fucking Golden Globes in my bitter comfort zone.

Wolf Hall, you guys? Seriously?

When the nominations were announced, I carefully looked through them and was pretty indifferent about most of it. It made sense that most people/things were nominated and, for the most part, probable winners were fairly obvious. The only (and I mean only) category that gave me pause was “Best Television Limited Series or Motion Picture Made for Television.”

That is one heavy category. Hotel, I think, is questionable. I’m not mad at it, by any stretch of the imagination, but it doesn’t hold a candle to American Crime. The only other nominees that do are Fargo and Flesh & Bone. Here endeth my then thought process. Wolf Hall wasn’t even a factor in my mind. And even with two nominations stricken, it was still the roughest category of the whole shindig. (Except for “Actress.” More on that in a second.)

Now, granted, I didn’t watch Wolf Hall. (Feel free to roll your eyes and discount my opinion at this point, but understand: I did watch every episode of everything else.) Maybe it’s the greatest period piece that’s ever been created, but it’s just not my bag. As far as I know, nobody watched that shit. And if they did, it’s ’cause they’re old. #KeepinItReal (I’m Gen Y, so don’t you dare call me a millennial. Nonetheless, that Y still entitles me to not watch PBS.) So, whatever. I’ll let it go eventually. But “Actress?!” Ugh…

I’m not even mad at Felicity Huffman not winning “Best Actress.” I think, as a gay man, I’m legally not allowed to be mad at Gaga beating her. What I am mad at is “Best Supporting Actress.” Maura Tierney, y’all? For The Fucking Affair? I did actually watch The Affair and I saw how little she was even in the second season and what little she did when she was in it, other than hit a mother fucker with her car and cry about it for a scene and a half. For her to beat out Regina King…

Travesty.

That is all.