August Roundup, ’17

As of this writing, I have made it all the way through my DVR to February 27th. I think it’s time to face the facts. This is officially a pilot microreview (…’s a word, yes? No? Did I just invent it? ™, bitches.) blog. For I will never, ever catch up. With that in mind:

Watch this shit:

  • The Defenders

    If you’re not aware, Defenders is the culmination of four separate Marvel/Netflix series that all exist in the MCU. To say the least, they vary in goodness (as in… one of the four kinda sucked). And, seriously, from the very first shot, Defenders was already better than Iron Fist. Not a difficult feat, granted…

    What is difficult is seamlessly merging four very different shows into one. The first of its kind, if I’m remembering correctly. If every AHS season eventually does connect, that’ll be Ryan Murphy‘s attempt at replicating this, but I don’t foresee anything similar happening any time soo- …. I just remembered the dumb week-long crossovers they did for all those damn CW shows this past season. So, there was that. (Sidebar: eyeroll at that bullshit Flash/Supergirl musical. Once More, with Feeling or bust.)

    Incorrect tangents aside: they do an okay job at keeping the feel of each individual series in the first Defenders episode. I was hoping for a bit more pace, but we’re left without the core four actually hooking up with each other. We do get a dying Sigourney Weaver apparently initiating the demise of New York City via earthquake, though. And Jessica Jones‘ outgoing answering machine message. (“Wrong. Number.”) Which, honestly, is reason enough to watch the entire series. And everything Krysten Ritter has ever done, ever.

  • The Guest Book

    Abed (’cause I literally can’t think of him as any other character) is a horny husband and father, married to Lauren Lapkus who’s an exhausted wife and mother who understandably isn’t trying to fuck. But then the cabin saves them by being a cabin! And that’s all I’d say about this series, if that’s what it was about. This little mini-review would be sitting below in the “Meh” category and that would be that. However comma… *twist* It’s an anthology series! And every episode is completely different, featuring a new story about new people staying in the aforementioned cabin of curativeness!

    So, if you liked Easy, but wish Orlando Bloom was actually funny… check this series out.

  • The Sinner

    It means something when Jessica Biel stabs a man to death during family day at the beach, bur her husband is still more unlikable. Not sure if that means Jessica Biel is an amazing actress or if Christopher Abbott is the fucking worst.

  • Weekend Update

    SNL cashing in on the success of their last season which, honestly, they absolutely deserve to. If you’re itching for a Jost/Che fix, chock full of cameos, then Lorne Michaels is your new best good friend.

  • The Tick

    Fun, silly, superhero romp of silly silliness. With just enough twinge of seriousness to make it compelling. Also, that psycho from The Following is all normal-sauce! It’s so refreshing!


  • Marlon

    Marlon Wayans (easily the most annoying Wayans, hence: “meh”) is being raised by his ex-wife. As are their two kids. He’s also a YouTube pranker. (It’s as if the producers asked “How do we make an annoying person more annoying?”)

  • Mr. Mercedes

    A 20-something kid destined for incest-induced matricide put on a clown mask and killed a bunch of folks who were trying to get jobs (Thanks, Donald!). Actually, the killer klown may not have been the kid in question. But, honestly… I mean, come on, his mother licked his teeth. He’s definitely killing something or other at some point. Anyway, this show is actually less about him and more about the retired cop who can’t let go of the unsolved employment-seeker murders. He’s foreign and his neighbor wants to fuck the shit out of him, as does his favorite waitress at his brunch hot spot. ‘Cause, in case you’re unaware: when you’re old, overweight, hairy, male, and generally un-Statue-of-David-esque: you’re still fuckable (Thanks, Stephen King!).

  • The Lowe Files

    If rich folks bro-ing out and hunting ghosts is your thing, then you’ll love Rob Lowe & Less Attractive Sons.

And that’s all, folks! Nothing too terrible this month. Live long and watch. And donate to Harvey relief. And don’t listen to Republicans when they blame homosexuality. Peace.


October Roundup

Some more new shiz of this season, in short:

The things worth your time (especially in bold):

The things that may or may not be worth your time, a.k.a. Meh:

The things not worth your time:

Old shit, no longer worth your time:

Okay, so, Eyewitness: The shit is good. Maybe even great. The thing about it is, though, that I’ve seen the original 6-episode Swedish series this it’s based on, which I loved. So, of course my brain is constantly comparing the two as I watch this Americanized iteration. It’s written by the creator of Shades of Blue, which I really didn’t love so that may not be much of a selling point, but what I mean to say is: it’s completely written by him. Adi Hasak sat down and fleshed out a complete, expanded 10-episode story which will have a conclusion. And the series itself was sold to USA as an anthology, so if there is a second season, it’ll be completely new. With all the hoopla these past few years with the seemingly endless cliffhangers and plot holes and unfinished stories, a proper ending is a magical thing to have and should be savored every time that comes around.

Not to mention: at the center of the small-town-murder-mystery story is a gay teenage romance that’s actually fucking respectful, doesn’t shy away from the sex real-life teenagers actually have, and doesn’t treat it like it’s something to be frowned upon while simultaneously accurately portraying the emotional struggle that comes with actually being a teenager accepting their sexuality. ACTUALLY.

The shit is good, I tell you. Just… a skosh less good than the original. Which, if I’m being honest, is probably the only reason it’s not bold in the list above. But you should watch it. Now. Go. Bye.

Mr. Robot & People as Malware

Mr. Robot is quite the wild ride. It’s difficult to even articulate it beyond that. I’ll do my best, while trying to keep my scrambled brains resting nicely inside my head, below…

Elliot Alderson is a security engineer for a cyber security firm by day and a hacker extraordinaire by night. He suffers from dissociative personality disorder, which we’re privy to very early on in the series because we, the viewer, are Elliott’s new friend. Fourth walls mean nothing, you see, when you’re someone’s alter. And that’s one of the many magical things about this series. We star in it. He asks us for help when he needs it, repeats after us when advice is provided, and we go along all of his rides. Hacks, overdoses, withdrawals, loves, lives, deaths, delusions, and revolutions. The ones he can recall, that is.

Elliot is unquestionably mentally unstable which often results in lost time. Frustrating, yes, but also part of the magic. When we’re not busy trying to figure out what we (Elliot included) have not witnessed and/or forgot, we’re following Elliot’s long-time friend/co-worker and their boss or his revealed-a-bit-too-late-in-the-series sister and hacker cohorts (known deliciously as “fsociety”). Honorable mention to his boss’ boyfriend, who will forever be Justin Taylor whether Randy Harrison likes it or not.

Then there’s Mr. Robot himself. Played by Christian Slater, he is our resident Tyler Durden in that he is somewhat subtly just another aspect of Elliot’s mind. If I’m being completely honest, I didn’t pick up on it until around episode two when my husband said “Yeah, he’s not real.” I then, of course, payed way too much attention to each subsequent episode to make sure he was right (because I wanted showrunner Sam Esmail to pull it off)/to make sure he was wrong (because I really didn’t want the “Twist!” moment to be the big deal of the season). Mr. Robot seemed way too good for that. The way they did handle it, though, was quite satisfying. It was less about “Shock and awe, only one person started Fight Club” and much more about “Elliot is very, very broken.” Forgetting who your sibling is and trying to make out with them will make that quite clear.

That’s the general idea of the series, now that I think about it. People are broken. And in possible attempts to fix themselves, they break others. Made crystal clear by the actions of the Evil Corp employees (“E Corp” in reality, “Evil Corp” in our view of reality through Elliot’s delusional eyes), which include murder, infidelity, self-imposed bisexuality, and urination voyeurism all for monetary gain. The end goal is to be part of the 1% and they succeed. Mostly. #WhereIsTyrell?

Where we leave off in season one is the percentage being meaningless. The hack of all hacks is pulled off during another of Elliot’s blackouts and all debts owed by the 99% end up being erased, as well as every drop of every rainy day fund of the 1%. Or so it seems. In the final scene, we’re treated to a glimpse of B.D. Wong‘s transwoman hacker turned business man (bound to anger actual trans people if it turns out his character is just in drag) partying in a fucking castle with the highest up of Evil Corp, drinking champagne and generally being awful. Is she working from the inside out to hack-save the world? Or is he working from the inside out to out-hack the hackers because money?

There’s also an oil spill or something. Shit’s real heavy, y’all.

Season two will premiere next year with everyone’s favorite do-gooder/nutter still substantially crazy. Or so we hope. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have our weekly acting gig through that pesky fourth wall. Until then, stay malicious.

Leaked Pilot Party

Given that a handful of pilots have leaked early, I figured we’d have a party to celebrate! For legal reasons, though, I can neither confirm nor deny that I downloaded any such illegal files. ‘Twas a friend of a friend who recounted what their viewing experience was when watching such filthy federally frowned upon material. I relate their (definitely not my) experiences below. I’ll start with the comedies.


Is it just me… or does the sound of a laugh track instantly make you dislike a show? I’m definitely of the school of thought where laugh tracks don’t enhance anything, they just insult you as a viewer. I don’t need to be told when something’s funny. I am of sound mind, enough to know when something triggers a happy synapse in my brain. Thanks for trying to help get me there, though.

Other than the insulting noises thrown at my ears, I might dislike the show simply because I’m not the target audience: parents who want to live vicariously through the lives of other parents who no longer have to raise their kids full-time. Except… their kids end up moving back in. And therefor, there are no vicarious lives through which to live. So… who’s the target audience, exactly? Is it just parents who want to watch other parents who hate being parents? ‘Cause that’s not me either.

The Carmichael Show

Laugh track aside… I’m not entirely mad at Carmichael. You’ve got to give props to anyone who manages to pull off “sex musk” multiple times in one scene. Also, I may or may not have had the “You don’t vote? The fuck is wrong you?” conversation with someone who may or may not be my husband. So, at least I can relate to this show.

Also, David Alan Grier hanging out, wearing a Barack “Neobama” Obama t-shirt is all anyone will ever need in this life. And seeing him defend George W. Bush while wearing it and simultaneously accidentally ending an argument with premarital relation confessions… is priceless. As is a full-grown man in a blue camo Snuggie attempting make-up sex. Last, but surely not least, I have to show my appreciation for equating voting Republican with “living in sin.”

So, as far as the multi-camera comedy pilots: Carmichael, 1 vs. Crowded, 0.

Now for the dramz!


Yes. Yes, yes, yes. It completely fills the current action and intrigue voids of network television in equal measure, as well as the even more important “women who can physically kick the shit out of your ass” void. I genuinely want to know why this naked, tattoo-suited woman randomly ended up in the middle of Times Square, in a bag, with amnesia. We can all agree how absolutely ridiculous that plot sounds, yes? And yet… I want more. That’s how good it is. There isn’t as much buzz for this show as there is for, let’s say, the absolute horseshit that is Lucifer (we’ll get to that soon enough), but there needs to be.

I can’t say enough good things about it, but if I’m being completely honest: they could flesh out the male counter-part character a bit more. And they could make it less procedural. If it’s going to turn into “Let’s watch how our tattooed mystery woman can help solve the case of the week, while spending a few minutes before the end of the episode on finding out who the fuck she is…” I’ll become much less interested.

Also, who could possibly be mad at a Johnny Whitworth cameo? Mr. “I don’t feel I need to explain my art to you, Warren” himself. All growed up, bright eyed and bushy faced.


I fully understand supernatural shows, as well as the need for them. Hell, I prefer supernatural shows most of the time. I get shows that say “Fuck God” with a wink and a smile. I get shows that build an entirely new mythology to live off of because it’s fucking fun to do so. I can even get behind writing a story based on an already established story and altering it to fit a different medium.

What I don’t get is “the good guy is a bad guy, but we like him because him and his penis are just so dapper.” And “the good girl really is a good girl, but her and her breasts have a rough exterior that is so very rough, but we like her because our dapper good bad guy is so intrigued by her.”

Good bad penis + Good good breasts = Plot? No, thank you.

The only reason I feel guilty about hating Lucifer is because Tom Ellis once made me very happy. He isn’t doing the same, though, with this show and he didn’t do it with his previous show, either. He plays his characters as written, so this isn’t me bashing his acting ability. It’s me bashing whoever wrote the king of all evil, the Devil himself, as Drop Dead Fred in a black suit. (Though, I’ll bet you a quarter the network made them do it.)

There is one scene worth watching which Rachael Harris steals. Wait for that to hit YouTube and don’t bother trying to watch any other part of the show.

Minority Report

I thought I’d have more good things to say about this one. It has its moments, but it distracts with all the clichéd “future” mistakes. I don’t know who thinks “The more obnoxious you can make the Google Glasses screens of the future, the better.” Also, Beyoncé’s a real good time, but “Partition” is not gonna be the background music of future crime scenes. We really didn’t need you to reassure us of the black woman’s “blackness” by playing that song.

Ugh, and those fucking kids with the flying selfie machine. I can’t with them.

Forcing the young precog to say “bitch” was funny, though. Good work on that one, writers.

I don’t know, man. There’s just this general sense of them trying way too hard. “We used to have this thing called ‘Tinder.’ It’s how I met your father.” Insert Liz Lemon eye roll here.

It’s not a terrible plot. The roles aren’t terribly acted. And if they wanted to make it clear that it’s set in the future: congrats, guys. It’s obvious. I’ll keep watching in the hopes that it’ll stop being ridiculously in the future.


Dean Cain and Helen Slater as Supergirl’s adopted parents? Cute.

Supergirl” as told through a “The Devil Wears Prada” lens? Lame.

You know what else is lame? Jimmy Olsen insisting on being called “James.” Why, in a show about the most powerful woman in the universe, is she adorkable while the male sidekick is a Man with a capital “M?”

And let’s talk about the face I was forced to make when this line was uttered: “How is the world supposed to take her seriously when she can’t even come up with a suit?” Because even when a woman carries a fucking airplane to safety, what matters is her outfit.

More fun dialogue to feel good about: “And what do you think is so bad about ‘girl?’ I’m a girl. And your boss. And powerful. And rich and hot and smart. So, if you perceive ‘Supergirl’ as anything less than excellent, isn’t the real problem… you?”

…NO! Fuck. No. Good job planting a scene to preemptively respond to the people you know are gonna be bothered by your bullshit, but it doesn’t quite do the trick. When you’ve got a hella strong alien who saves bitches while having a penis, you call him Superman and no one blinks. When you’ve got a hella strong alien who saves bitches while having a vagina and all you can think to do is compare her to Superman and intentionally refer to her as less than him simply because you’re forced to use female pronouns… the real problem is you. Sorry ’bout it. It’s not her, it’s not her ovaries, and it’s not her desire to be referred to as a woman. It’s just you.

Then, on top of everything else, there’s Supergirl herself taking the blame for a psychotic alien trying to murder a bunch of people. Could the blame rest nicely on his shoulders because he’s a psycho? Oh, no. Not when there’s a girl around to, ya’know, exist and generally be female and therefor cause men to want to murder.

I really wanted to like this show. But I just, in all good conscience, cannot.

So, as far as dramas go: Blindspot for the win, Minority Report for a distant second, Supergirl firmly in last place, with Lucifer not even qualifying.

Until next leak, kiddies. Peace and love.