What makes Season 3 work on Fargo

Season 3 of the FX series Fargo, in which each season is an entirely new plot, though w/ the same Minnesota setting, the same quirky behavior, the same juxtaposition of Midwestern innocence and horrendous crimes of violence, the same indefatigable police detective work (led by a woman officer), and the same bumbling idiocy on the part of at least one feckless criminal (Note: Haven't yet seen Season 2.) About half-way through Season 3 I'm impressed with all aspects - the quirky acting, the establishments of a sense of place (the series captures the wintry climate and the flat landscapes of the north), and especially the tight plot; most of the mystery series I've watched succeed in spite of the story line, which often feels spun out for length and largely out of control, as if the writers are figuring things out week by week and, when pressed, come up with an unlikely and unsatisfying conclusion (with generally an open strand to be picked up in the following season). Like the under-appreciated series American Crime, which also commits to an entirely new plot with each season, Fargo feels in control and logical, if not probable, given the improbable mix of comedy and high crime. All told, a very successful project; more on Season 3 as we near the conclusion.

Get Out is clearly one of the best - and most unusual - films of the year

Jordan Peele's fantastically inventive and surprising Get Out (2017) is definitely a must-see and I hope it's remembered during awards season - it will be hurt by it's early-2017 release date - and it's impossible to talk about without giving a lot of info away, so many spoilers to come so see the movie before reading any further. First, Peele takes on all the black male cliches and stereotypes directly in a way that no white writer-director could possibly have done. The movie starts out (after a puzzling opening sequence of a black guy getting abducted in a suburban neighborhood - the significance of this scene becomes clear by the end of the film) as a family "guess who's coming to dinner" drama: attractive, skinny, white girl takes her black boyfriend to her parents' suburban home for the weekend; she had never told them her boyfriend was black - seems improbable at first but later makes sense as the movie becomes clear - but she insists it will go well, her parents are not racist, Dad voted for Obama, etc. All true, sure enough - but several disturbing things happen: they crash into a deer on the road (lots of symbolism there - a hit and run, a broken mirror - these, too, will make sense later), at the home, the black servants seem weird and almost transfixed, the kid brother is strange and inappropriate, talking about the boyfriend's "genetic makeup." Parents hold a big annual get-together, and people are polite in a bizarre way toward the boyfriend; eventually the one other black guest throws a kind of fit and yells to the boyfriend: Get out! We gradually come to learn that the parents use hypnosis on black men (and women) and then keep them as sex slaves. I know it sounds completely absurd - but we have slipped unknowingly from one genre to another, domestic drama to horror - and w/ a touch of comedy as well. In probably the best scene in the film the boyfriend's bost buddy becomes suspicious and goes to the police and tells them he thinks this suburban family is holding black men as sex slaves. It seems so absurd and the police laugh it off, as we do, too - but we're also him, just as I'm telling you this plotline right now. It makes no sense, yet it does make sense within the terms of this film, original and provocative at every moment. Is there a deeper meaning, an allegory? If so, the film doesn't say so explicitly, but I think all of us in our anxiety about race can see elements of ourselves in this film, in these bizarre or beleaguered characters. Clearly one of the best films of the year.

The good and the bad about the conclusion of House of Cards Season 5

So we continue deliciously loathing the Underwoods right through to the end of House of Cards Season 5 (plenty of spoilers to come) when newly sworn in president Claire declares "My turn," but didn't the final episode(s) strain credulity even for this over-the-top series? Doug as the source of the leaks to the Washington Post about the death of Zoe Barnes (even at Frank Underwood's order?): nobody would leak to the press under any circumstances info that could link him to a series of murders. And FU explaining to Claire that he orchestrated his own downfall to advance her to power and bring him to an even more powerful position in the private sector? That's completely idiotic; he's damaged, maybe indictable now; if brnging CU to power was his goal he would have pushed her to run. Nobody, least of all FU, takes the fall like that. And Claire killing Tom Yates? Much as I hated their relationship - was it supposed to be passionate? or were we meant to see this "love affair" as ludicrous? - no vice-president is going to flat out murder someone in a Georgetown mansion and then call on an aide to get rid of the body - let alone killing a prominent writer and speechwriter for the VP. Speaking of which, the mansion own and political fixer Mark Usher is not a credible portrayal of a Washington insider and deal-maker to me; he's not suave, cool, or scary enough (though he had one good scene with the unctuous Rep. Romero). And now Leeanne (a great role of Neve Campbell) is dead apparently - wouldn't all these deaths of White House senior staffers draw a cascade of media coverage? All that said, the show held my interest throughout, as we wait for the Zoe Barnes hammer to drop - hard to see how CU can issue a pardon that will cover a murder committed before he was President. And you have to love the veiled or not-so-veiled contemporary references throughout, especially the speech about President Underwood: He has no moral compass, will just say or do whatever will keep him in power. Hm.

Another film I stopped watching half-way through

About one hour in to the 2016 Korean film Right Now, Wrong Then we had a power failure, but that's just as well - I was about to eject the dvd at that point anyway. What's all this about?: The first hour of the movie show us a famous art-film director arriving in a small city in Korea for a film festival that's screening his latest movie and at which he will speak to the audience. After some initial awkward flirtation with the young woman assigned to be his guide, he walks through the (strangely deserted) streets and eventually meets a young woman at a small temple. She tells him she's an artist; she's heard of the director, Ham, but never seen his work. Eventually they go to her studio, where he lavishes praise on her paintings. Then they go out for sushi and drinks; he becomes drunk (he's actually a good actor - handles the drunk scene really well, and he's good at the awkward flirtation), and then they go to a gathering of a few of her friends, where one friend puts him down mercilessly. Flash ahead to the film screening, at which he utters some inanities (later claiming he's still drunk) and spats w. the moderator. The end of part 1. Part 2 begins w/ exactly the same shot sequence, but where it was obviously heading was same people, different outcomes. Has this ever been done before? About a million times! And it can work, if the story is in the least interesting, if the character is in the least engaging, if it's not all based on navel-gazing and self-reference. I knew I'd seen another film by this director - Sang-soo Hong - and had to look it up but it was The Day He Arrives - same stupid premise, a film director arrives in Seoul to meet w/ his former (?) students and they go through a series of scenes, each w/ same setting but slightly different nuances and outcomes. For me: Same outcome; I didn't finish watching that one either (no power outage, though).

Loving to hate the loathsome characters in Season 5 of House of Cards

I've been remiss in posting on Season 5 of House of Cards, and we've now watched I think 10 of the episodes. I can't really understand why there have been generally negative reviews of this season. Anyone who's gone this far w/ the Underwoods knows what to expect from them: ruthless behavior, lack of compassion for anyone, duplicity, scheming, a commitment to each other that's formidable but completely without love or passion. To know them is to loathe them - and Season 5 gives that to us in spades, so to speak. The topical allusions to the current administration of 45 are a troubling, and our only hope in that regard is the 45 has nowhere near the malevolent competence of Francis Underwood. Some of the most amusing scenes, to me, are the intimate scenes between Claire (Robin Wright) and her "speechwriter" and erstwhile novelist Tom Yates - they are the coldest, least passionate couple I've ever seen on screen, intentionally, I hope and believe. The central drama of season 5 entails the gradual tightening of the noose around Underwood's neck as the Washington "Herald" moves forward with its investigation of the death of Zoe Barnes and of the prostitute, Rachel, whom Doug Stamper had offed in an earlier season. These people will do anything to attain and retain power - but truth will out.

The take on Season 2 of Fortitude: The good, bad, and ugly

By the end of Season 2 of Fortitude, it's clear this mini-series is a case of the good, the bad, and the ugly. First, the good: There are some terrific plot lines and some strong characters across the two seasons. Everything that focuses on a major unsolved murder in the small Norwegian island outpost of Fortitude, the investigation of the murder - particularly by Stanley Tucci, an outsider sent in to solve the case, and all the complications of life in a small Arctic outpost about about 700 people, including the politics of building a tourist hotel on the glacier, the uncovering of a herd of mammoths because of the ice melt, the strange disease contracted by those in contact with the mammoths, the scientific investigation into the disease which turns victims into flesh eating monsters, the web of relationships and broken relationships, all intensified by the remote setting -- all this is to the good. Plus Sheriff Dan Anderson (at least in season 1) and governor Hilder Odergard (sp?) are really great characters (and Tucci as well). But, the bad: By season 2 a new and unwelcome element is introduced as a "shaman" turns up with magical powers that he wants to use to purge the community of the disease, and there's all kinds of nonsense and hocum about the supernatural and mystical cults of the native Sami, potions involving reindeer urine and body parts - the plot just reels out of control and into the absurd. Also, though I give the creator (Simon Donald) credit for being willing to get rid of major characters when the plot so requires, by the end of Season 2 all the best characters are gone, in one way or another. Dennis Quaid does not carry the show for me at all, though they may have felt they needed a well-known actor in at least one role. Finally, the ugly: I consider myself reasonably tolerant of blood and gore but in practically every episode there's an eye-closing sequence, sometimes an entire scene, involving violent physical attacks, cannibalism, ghastly surgery, or self-mutilation. So, be warned. We may peak at Season 3 but honestly I can't imagine another 10 episodes - sometimes less is more, and for too often good initial programs themselves into the ground after Season 1 (see, The Killing, Damages, Huff, for some examples).