Television Tuesday :: death on television (there isn’t always enough)

I’m not saying death is good.  It’s not.  But death is a part of life, it’s just something that exists no matter what.  And when characters go entire seasons without anyone they even remotely know dying, it just starts to feel unrealistic to me.  I don’t know.  Maybe I’m just morbid.

I’m the kind of girl whose reaction to television death is usually one of three things:

1. Good!  That character deserved it, because they were bad and mean.
2. NO!  My baby, you can’t die, I love you too much.
3. I’m sad that you’ve died, yes, but I’m also applauding the writers having the courage to kill you off.

3 is my pretty constant refrain when watching, say, Buffy (I was originally going to make this a statistics problem, comparing how many people die in various television shows that represent various genres, but then I realized that it would take too long to count how many people die on Buffy, because seriously, SO many people die, random people and important people both; one of these days I will do Depressing Whedonverse Deaths, but that’s not today).  Lately, though, I’ve been attributing it to other things: True Blood, at least the last season (which we all know), and though Sons of Anarchy hasn’t killed off that many people, it’s putting a lot of people in near-death situations this season.

When characters are prone to dying on television, it’s more high-stakes, and that makes it more fun for me.  If I think that a character might actually die, I get tense, and I get more wrapped up in the story as a result.  If I think that a main character could die, I have to applaud the writers.  It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare.  (To say again how much I adored this last season of True Blood, I will just point out that they spent the first two seasons playing it pretty safe.  They killed off random waitresses that boinked people and random vampires and random hillbillies, they killed off their Big Bads.  Season three was a little more risky.  Season four, though… I mean, the season finale saw the deaths of how many characters in the opening credits?  Four?  And Marshall Allman, who played Tommy, had died previously, but was still in the credits, so that makes five. That’s a lot of death.)

Not every show has excuses for massacres, and that’s perfectly all right.  It makes more sense to have higher body counts on Buffy or True Blood or The Walking Dead or even Dollhouse, because of the nature of the programs.  There are monsters (or technology, or guns, or some combination thereof) that will kill you, period.  You don’t have to kill off everyone on, say, Mad Men, but I wouldn’t be opposed to someone not ancient (I’m looking at you, Ida Blankenship [Randee Heller]) getting killed off somehow.  (Not my girls, my Joanie [Christina Hendricks], Peggy [Elisabeth Moss], Sally [Kiernan Shipka], not Don [Jon Hamm], but someone… maybe a little bit less important but still important enough to have more than one episode’s worth of impact, like Greg [Sam Page].  He should die due to army things.)

Generally, the number of television deaths can be sorted out pretty easily:

1. Anything Joss Whedon touches
2. HBO
3. Showtime/Starz/etc.
4. Other programs about monsters or an apocalypse; sometimes war-related things too
5. FX/AMC/etc.
6. Miscellaneous medical/criminal dramas
7. Network dramas
8. Regular comedies, if you’re lucky
9. Sitcoms (seriously.  During the entire run of Friends, less than ten characters died.  That’s not even one per season.)

I know.  I’m morbid.  I don’t even care.

–your fangirl heroine.

Television Tuesday :: this week, it’s premieres.

Showtime gave way to the seventh (!) season of Weeds this week.  Nancy (Mary-Louise Parker) is out of jail, three years later, and has been abandoned by the FBI but is considered “safe” as her drug kingpin husband Esteban (Demian Bichir) is dead.  (We’ll see how safe she ends up being.  My bet is not, because that would be boring, and Nancy will never be safe from anything, ever.)

She’s in New York now (hurrah for cityscapes) and staying at a halfway house run by Counselor Ed (Anthony Williams).  I haven’t decided yet whether his tendency to make up rhymes is funny or mildly aggravating.  I’m hoping the former, but we’ll see about that, too.  Her baby Stevie, now three-ish, is in the care of her sister (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and who knows, that’ll probably cause the drama too, since Stevie only knows her as “Aunt Nancy” (and that always causes the drama).

Meanwhile, Andy (Justin Kirk) and Silas (Hunter Parrish, yummier than ever with dark hair) and Shane (Alexander Gould) and Doug (Kevin Nealon) are living their amusing overseas life in Copenhagen.  Andy’s a bike tour guide aiming to be involved in the government of a miniature country (?).  Silas is a male model.  Shane has, inexplicably, grown up into a cougar-hunting… marionettist?  I’d have been all right with a bit more of their amusing overseas life, but it looks like they’ll be coming to New York now that they know Nancy’s been released.  Of course.  And as usual, Shane is the only sensible one (although it’s his less-than-sensible idea to come to New York).  But he’s far more logical than the rest.  I swear, were it not for his homicidal streak, I’d put that kid on my list of kids I hope my theoretical future children turn out like.

Though apparently, Michelle Trachtenberg will be appearing for two episodes as a rival pot dealer in the Big Apple who hooks up with Silas?  Sexy time with Silas is something I’m always okay with.  And I’m sure Nancy will get involved in some other relationship that’s terrible for her.  She already had some sexy time in the big house, with her Russian cellmate (who left her a key to a suitcase full of… grenades?  I’m looking forward to seeing how that plays out).

This provides a good transition to my discussion of True Blood‘s season premiere, allowing us no Game of Thrones withdrawal that is not easily satisfied by other HBO goodness.  And, epic.  I can already say that this eason is looking to be amazing, but I used the in-house lesbian lovin’ to transition because apparently Tara (Rutina Wesley) is now a cage-fighting lesbian who goes by Tony?  Well, men have kinda screwed her over, and cage-fighting lesbian Tony is less of a whiny bitch than Tara.  So hopefully, this is a change for the better?

More importantly, though, Sookie’s (Anna Paquin) going to the fairy realm at the end of season three is quickly revealed to have been a crappy plan.  The fairy world is not so cool.  And if you don’t eat their light fruit, they turn into… goblins?… and bad ensues.  Bad that means a fairy who is presumably Claude has to spirit Sookie and her inexplicably young grandfather back to Earth before the goblin-fairies go medieval on their asses.  Who knows.  (Considering they didn’t get to the fae wars until the ninth book, Dead and Gone, and we only got the on-Earth portion, I’m sort of up in the air about how they’re gonna handle this.  Goblin-fairies were pretty epic though, and I … usually like the TV show a little better, anyway, so I’m hopeful.)

Sookie feels like she’s been gone hardly at all, but it’s been more than a year in the real world.  Whoops.  Her house has been sold and bought by a mysterious real estate company (it turns out this real estate company is Eric [Alexander Skarsgard] and considering he as deep, sexy feelings for Sookie, this is probably going to be all right, especially when witch-amnesia kicks in and makes what I affectionately refer to as Doll Eric happen).

Bill (Stephen Moyer) is now the Vampire King of Louisiana.  Well, okay, then.  Bill is a bastard-ass prick, so he’s well-suited to the vampire monarchy.    A lot of vampire politics are now in play, considering it is, as Nan Flanagan (Jessica Tuck) says, “a post-Russell Edgington world.”  (Well, it’s not like they were gonna carry that big bad over, especially since he’s concrete-ensconced, presumably, but Russell was definitely my favorite of the True Blood big bads so far, so I’m hoping Fiona Shaw’s Marnie ends up as epic.)  These vampire politics require, among other things, the most epic PSA I have ever seen on television, first epic because of Pam’s (Kristin Bauer van Straten) snark and inability to play nice and then because of Eric’s people-pleasing smarm and amazing smiles of sex.

(Yes, I, like many others, have been seduced by Eric Northman.  I am fully Team Eric.  I am unashamed of admitting this fact.)

Later we get more Pam snark in her dealings with baby vamp Jessica (Deborah Ann Woll, more adorable than ever) and her urging for Jessica to stop playing housewife for her human boyfriend Hoyt (Jim Parrack) and go out there and vampire-live a little, dammit.  Pam exemplifies what is epic about non-guilty vampires.  She’s not ashamed of what she is, and while that would make for the bad in the real world and from a Scoobyish standpoint, it makes for much better television.  I’m looking forward to more epic Pam time in coming episodes.  (That’s one of the reasons I think I’ve enjoyed season three most so far — more Pam.  She’s easily my favorite.)

And the whole thing wrapped up with Neko Case and Nick Cave doing a cover of “She’s Not There,” which for those of you who know oldies by lyrics and not title, is the one that’s like

Well no one told me about her
The way she lied
Well no one told me about her
How many people cried

And I’ve always loved this song, more since the Malcolm McLaren “About Her” cover of epic on the Kill Bill Vol. 2 soundtrack, but this version is sexier than ever.  And I’m not just saying that because it’s True Blood, or because I adore Neko Case, but hot damn.  If the rest of the season is gonna be this lustworthy, count me the hell in.

– your fangirl heroine.

Television Tuesday :: because I cannot resist a grassroots fan movement.

fuckyeahgirlcrush:

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JOIN:
Save and Give United States of Tara a Fourth Season

FLOOD:
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TREND:
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WRITE SHOWTIME:
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SIGN:
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United States of Tara is a brilliant show.  It deals with psychology and neuroscience in a neat way, I care about the characters majorly, I’m very invested in it, it’s sad it’s going to be ending, I like many would rather it didn’t.  I mean, Weeds is almost on, what, its seventh season?  Why can’t they keep Tara going that long?

–your fangirl heroine.

Television Tuesdays :: so The Borgias is over for the season.

Short seasons, man.  They get you.  I’d been anticipating it being over, but I was still a bit sad.  Also worn out after the last episode; not exactly from emotional investment, but certainly from the fact that there was so much going on.

We had intrigue both romantic and political, a crap ton of sexual tension (some of it between Francois Arnaud’s Cesare and Holliday Grainger’s Lucrezia, which is creepy ’cause they’re siblings; some of it with Cesare and Ruta Gedmintas’ Ursula-now-Martha, which is creepy ’cause she’s now a nun), a lot of Jeremy Irons’ scowly growly “ohai remember when I was a cartoon lion?” face, a lot of pretty scenery and costumes, general wackiness ensuing.

(Seriously, I can’t be the only one of my generation who cannot listen to Jeremy Irons, even when he’s dressed up like the pope, and not see a cartoon lion.  And then I imagine a cartoon lion in a pope outfit, and die inside of giggles.)

I don’t care about these people on a people level, pretty much across the board, but I do care about these people insofar as I want to see what else they get into.  I want to see Lucrezia woman up and poison some bitches.  I want to see Cesare bitch-slap his brother metaphorically and prove that he’s a better warrior.  I want to see what wackiness good ol’ Pope Lion gets up to next.

And I have to wait till 2012?  Siiigh.

–your fangirl heroine.

Television Tuesday :: the zen of shorter seasons

Now, most of my shows have short enough seasons.  HBO programs tend to be about twelve episodes per (Deadwood, The Sopranos, True Blood, Boardwalk Empire; Rome actually had twelve in the first and only ten in the second).  Showtime is eleven or twelve (Weeds has eleven, Tara has twelve).  Mad Men and Sons of Anarchy and Dollhouse and Justified all have/had thirteen.  Firefly was a proud fourteen.  The Walking Dead had a jaw-droppingly brief six.  Of course, there are the odd popular shows, with super a lot; aside from its short first seasons, Buffy had twenty-two per, and Glee is the same.

But this is something I’ve figured.  Having the shorter seasons?  For one, it means it’s less daunting to tell friends to marathon it.  Twelve, thirteen episodes?  Pfft, that’s nothing.  That’s a weekend if you dedicate yourself.  It means the arc doesn’t drag (usually, cough cough Sons of Anarchy season three).  Okay, it also means there are no wacky nonsequitorial (“Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered”?  “Hush”?  “Once More, With Feeling?”) episodes tossed in there, or at least fewer of them.  But it sort of keeps things tight.  Again, usually.

And?  Shorter seasons tease the hell out of you.  Shorter seasons mean you get sucked in, then it kicks you harder in the ass when the season’s over so quick and you spend the next xyz months waiting impatiently for the next little hit.  (True Blood, case in point.)  You don’t have a chance to get worn out, at least as much.

And short seasons also mean you can cycle between awesome things better.  HBO’s Sunday night lineup, as Paul Rudd told us in I Love You, Man, is without fail scintillating.  Everything I love on HBO is Sunday night, and it just rotates.  It was okay when True Blood was over, because then along came Boardwalk Empire, and then after a bit came Game of Thrones, and when that’s done (far too soon) we’ll get True Blood back.  It’s consistently awesome.

Also, there’s the fact that I’m an emotional masochist.  That makes shorter seasons appeal, too.

–your fangirl heroine

Television Tuesday :: Showtime is almost as epic as HBO.

I don’t really have anything against network, per se.  Though I loathe reality shows.  And I loathe anything that’s so franchised it has spin-offs known only by the acronyms for different cities, not out of snobbery but it just… isn’t my thing.  (I can say this with surety, because I once watched Law & Order because Susan Blackwell was on it, and it bored me to tears, almost.)  I’m just… kind of a sucker for primetime.

Between the deliciously messed up Borgias and the latest season of United States of Tara?  They’re providing everything I need right now, basically.  And they’re responsible for my favorite costume drama, The Tudors, and for my other favorite half-hour comedy, Weeds, so they seem to get it right a lot of the time.

The Borgias, based on said historical crime family, is delightful.  It’s all sex and sin in the best of ways, but at the same time it doesn’t feel excessive (well, maybe the king who killed and stuffed his enemies and arranged them in a tableau of the Last Supper was a little much, maybe the thirteen year old marrying a twentysomething who’s screwing his older brother was a little much, but I assume those are historical facts, so).  The clothes are, of course, beautiful.  I’m a bit less gape-mouthed DO WANT than I am with The Tudors, but that’s largely because I prefer Elizabethan dresses selfishly.  Well, Renaissance ones are too high-cut and don’t provide for people with much of a figure, and Elizabethan ones are all CORSET.  YOU WERE SAYING?

I don’t know if I care about the characters, but I care about watching them embroiled in their scandals.  I don’t like them, they’re hideous people, but I’m still interested in them.  Devious characters are as fun, if not more fun sometimes, as people I want to hug.  And I’m enjoying watching Lucrezia (Holliday Grainger) learn to be devious slowly.  And as with all television programs I enjoy, I’m enjoying seeing character actors I know pop up and waving hello at them.

United States of Tara is completely the opposite kind of fun.  This week’s episode provided more giggles than I can remember any particular half hour doing in a long time.  Yet even amidst the funny, I care about these people.  I care about what happens to Tara (Toni Collette) and Max (John Corbett). I really, really, really do.

I want to put Marshall (Keir Gilchrist) honorarily on that list of people who need a hug, because if I have a son ever, I want that one, please.  I love his dry sense of humor, I love that he listens to jazz, I love that he cares about things and he observes things but he’s not obnoxious or pretentious.

I kind of want to be best friends with Kate (Brie Larson).  I mean, A) Brie Larson is epic.  B)  She’s precious and kind of dresses in that cute weird vintage but not pretentious hipster way that I want to steal.  C) She’s funny.  And not just one-note funny, she’s genuine.

I… kind of don’t like Charmaine (Rosemarie Dewitt) that much.  But I do wish the best for her and Neil (Patton Oswalt) and their baby, who apparently responds to Chinese swear words.  (Oh Patton Oswalt, repping the Browncoats everywhere, hearts.  I refuse to believe that it’s a coincidence.  It can’t be.)  And I hope Charmaine and Tara’s mom isn’t just bitching it up all over the place.

Basically?  Showtime is well-balanced.  It works the drama, the funny, the poignant, the creepy, the OMGPRETTYCLOTHES, the real, the historical, the genuine… all of those things, and well.

–your fangirl heroine.