May 21, 2018

Arrested Development: Season 4 (Alternate Cut)


Man, I know that the original cut of Season 4 of Arrested Development wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but this remix is a borderline disaster.

The weakness of the original cut was twofold. For one, it kept certain characters sidelined for way too long; the lone Buster episode takes place all the way at the end of the season, for instance, and George's plot is more or less wrapped up by the end of the sixth episode. And giving each of the nine family members more or less their own isolated adventures made for some very inconsistent episodes. For another thing, the season jumped just all over the place chronologically, making it hard for some fans to even understand which parts of each episode were happening when.

Folks, I'm sad to report - the remixed season doesn't really solve either one of those problems all the way, and what's worse, it introduces a whole slew of new problems. The pacing is an absolute mess now, with little chunks of all the original episodes taped together into 22-minute installments that don't really follow any sort of structure. The season still doesn't really flow chronologically, at all, and still jumps around temporally. But now instead of being focused on individual character arcs, there's almost no rhyme or reason to what happens when, which incidents get put where, and why.

In the original cut, for instance, Gob's arc plays out across two episodes that send him off on a downward spiral and then just sort of revel in him being there, hanging out with an Entourage-style entourage after running away from a marriage to his nephew's ex-girlfriend. There's a frenetic pace of introducing new characters, like Mark Cherry and his crew, and just rolling with it. But split Gob's tale up across 22 episodes and it's easy to lose track of why he's doing what he's doing. Like, one episode he's hanging out with his estranged son, and then two episodes later he's just a young celebrity's driver and unwanted tag-along, and there's no connective tissue between the two!

Or how about this? Maybe my favorite reveal in the original fourth season cut was the way the show built up college senior George Michael as a tech maven of sorts, a Mark Zuckerberg savant building his own anti-piracy software called FakeBlock. But then it's finally revealed in the George Michael episode at the end of the season that George Michael isn't some kind of tech savant at all - he's just building a woodblock simulation app... called FakeBlock. It's one of the funniest rug-pulls in the series' entire history, and it just doesn't land at all when you know what FakeBlock actually is before it begins to get all hyped up.

Similarly, Isla Fisher's character, Rebel, gets introduced pretty early on in the original cut of the season. So when she shows up scattered across the rest of the season, it's a callback, a reference. Now, she makes her first appearance in a Gob subplot at a bar, and before we even know who she is, there's a cutaway to a PSA she's filmed. Without knowing who this character is, it's just a random woman at a bar who gets an extended gag of sorts before we know her well enough to find the extended gag funny in the first place.

It's a mess! It's a goddamn mess. I admire what Mitch Hurwitz tried to do the first time around - it was bold, innovative, and different, just like Arrested Development itself was back when it first hit the airwaves. But I kind of wish he'd just left the season alone, syndication opportunities be damned! This remix just ends up even messier and more disorienting than the original cut. Oh well! Either way, I'm still very much looking forward to what he's got in store for the fifth season - a season which presumably returns to the familiar "every character in every episode" flow and format to begin with.

May 16, 2018

Professor Layton and the Miracle Mask


This is probably the end of the line for Professor Layton and me. I've now played games from this series in 2008, 2011, 2013, 2015, and 2018, which indicates that I have a constant but extraordinarily low appetite for them. There's one more game in the series, but it's rare and out of print and costs something like sity bucks on Amazon, and that just isn't a purchase that seems necessary at this point, "series closure" be damned.

Look, these are cute, the tone and the characters are endearing, and I fully understand the appeal. But, oof, the stories - the main capers at the center of these games - are just utter dogshit! I play the games for the puzzles and the puzzles alone, but those puzzles are entirely divorced from the main narrative. So the way I ended up playing this one, for instance, was just to sprint through entire chapters of the story as quickly as possible in order to enjoy full-fledged puzzlin' sessions in between them. It's not worth it! The puzzles aren't even that good!

It's been a pleasure to play through these. But also, frankly, it's been a bit of a bore! And I just think this series was far more novel in 2008 - portable puzzles! - than it is in 2018, when there are like a thousand puzzle-based smartphone apps to check out. Oh well!

New Girl: Season 7


Like Parks and Recreation before it, New Girl went out on a shortened victory lap of a season that jumped forward three years in time and burned through episodes at a two-per-week clip to get the whole thing over with in the course of a month.

New Girl was no Parks and Recreation. It was mostly pretty good, occasionally hilarious, and often incredibly forgettable. The lowest it sank was probably in the fourth or fifth season - at least it ended on an uptick! The best thing it did was give Jake Johnson, Max Greenfield, and Lamorne Morris to the world. The worst thing it did was that whole "adorkable" marketing campaign at the very beginning of its run.

There's really not a lot else to say about it! At its core, it was about a group of twenty- and then thirty-something friends - probably the best "friends hanging out" sitcom since, you know, Friends. I don't really think I'll miss it, if that makes sense - there's just too much damn television out there! - but these low stakes comedies are often the hardest shows to let go of. You feel, on a certain level, like this group of friends is your own group of friends. You've been "with" them for years, after all, and that makes it harder to say goodbye to something like this than, say, Breaking Bad or The Americans. I think that's why there's such a strong sense of nostalgia for these shows, and why they're all getting rebooted left and right. I mean, New Girl was never a true hit, and only got worse and worse ratings as it wore on (even relative to overall TV ratings declines) but, would it shock anyone if, in 2028, we got a four-episode New Girl reunion of some sort? I mean, Zooey Deschanel ain't going nowhere, right?

Anyway, farewell to New Girl. I will generally remember you fondly!

Silicon Valley: Season 5


Man, what a perfectly infuriating poster!

Five seasons in, Silicon Valley is settling into, let's face it, old age. And I thought it really started to show that age this season. Forget the loss of T.J. Miller - how long can a show about a Silicon Valley start-up realistically last without making that start-up either grow or die? So on one hand it was nice to see the show sort of acknowledge this and give Pied Piper an actual workforce of actual dozens of people in an actual office somewhere. But on the other, yeah, I do think the series has been losing steam and running out of meaningful ways for its characters to interact. Kumail Nanjiani, for instance, is coming off a breakout year that included an Oscar nomination - what a shame that his character Dinesh had absolutely nothing to do this season other than become a Tesla fanboy!

Look, this is still a funny show made by funny people, and it's not that I found Season 5 to be bad, by any stretch. Just a little stale, I guess. The show's coming back for at least one more season, and recent chatter says it could go for several more. In theory, it easily could - California's tech bubble remains as ripe for parody as ever! - but even the sharpest knives grow dull after a while, and there's no telling when this particular well will just run dry.

May 14, 2018

Atlanta: Season 2


One of the best and worst parts about recording your pop culture takes on a blog for ten consecutive years is the ability to look back on old takes and either reminisce fondly or cringe. I have very few true "regrets" about anything I've said on this blog or elsewhere since, say, 2010 - and if I did, woof, I would hastily edit and delete such things - but one take I am borderline ashamed of having is, two years ago, ranking Atlanta all the way down at #25 on my ranked list of TV in 2016. That's behind things like the seventh season of Archer, the first season of Baskets, and the first half of the third season of The Affair. Oh dear!

I won't make that mistake again! This isn't a make-up call, but yeah, more than a third of the way into 2018, Atlanta is the best show of 2018, and an improvement over its first season, which I had grossly underrated at first glance.

There's a whole thing I could get into, and would even like to get into, about black America, white America, Donald Glover, bubbles, privilege, perspective - forget it. I don't have the skill or the patience to find all the words right now, and I'd only look foolish trying to extrapolate a big lesson from all this.

Suffice it to say that every single episode of this season of television kept me attentive and interested, even though all of them were basically standalone episodes. Every week was a goddamn delight this season, albeit some more than others, and plenty of them more accurately described as "horrifying" than "delightful."

I loved this season of television. I loved each episode, and I love the bigger picture they all combined into, the total that's proverbially greater than the sum of its parts. I mean, I'm not sure if it was greater than its parts here, because, man, what good parts! But yeah. The second season of Atlanta absolutely sets the bar for television in 2018 thus far. We'll see what the finale of The Americans has in store, and you can never count out The Handmaid's Tale, and, oh shit, Arrested Development is back in just two weeks, so it's not entirely implausible to think Atlanta could drop all the way to, like, #4 within two months or so. But for now, it's the best show of 2018.

A Way Out


Here's the latest from Josef Fares, whose Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons was one of my all time favorite indie XBLA/PSN titles, a staggeringly sad game with so many memorable scenes and moments and an ambiance all of its own. That game was perhaps best described as a single-player co-op game, a game where you control two different brothers - one with each thumbstick - as they go to the ends of the earth seeking a cure for their ailing father. I can't stress enough what a cool experience it was, subverting the notion of the "co-op" experience by making your own left and right hands work together to solve puzzles.

A Way Out has a similar gimmick in that it can only be played cooperatively via split screen. Local, online, with friends or with straners - it doesn't really matter. You and one other person control Vincent and Leo, two prisoners in adjoining cells, as they try to break out of prison and settle the score with their mutual enemy, Harvey.

Keith and I played this one over the course of three different sessions spread across four or five days after vaguely dancing around being available at the same time for the previous month. And I'm glad we finally did so, as I've wanted to play this game for a long time. Alas, sadly this did not feel like something made by the creative team behind Brothers. This felt like a very run-of-the-mill modern adventure/shooter game with a cliche narrative, all "been there, done that," and very little "hey, wow, that's really cool."

The split-screen action is occasionally played up for great benefit, never more so than when the pair are still in prison (yeah, spoiler alert, they get out of prison) and one player needs to distract a guard while another sneaks around collecting tools, or something. But for too many long, long stretches of this one, the two players are hanging out in the same area, taking the same journey along the same linear path, and the split-screen concept is redundant and unnecessary.

And the story? It just doesn't really make any sense. Character motivations are almost entirely absent. Leo wants to get revenge against Harvey because he was double-crossed, or something. Vincent's case is even more nebulous - Harvey, or someone in his gang, killed Vincent's brother. But both men have wives and children at home, who they freely visit after escaping from prison (wait, what? Cops aren't posted on those families twenty-four seven?) which makes their drive to get revenge against Harvey all the more implausible. Wouldn't a better narrative arc have stemmed from one or both men having nothing at all to lose by seeking vengeance? It all just felt so misguided. And, sure, don't get me wrong, "video game plot" is still a bit of an oxymoron even in 2018 - but it doesn't have to be!

I dunno, at the end of the day this felt like a less impressive and buggier version of Uncharted or The Last of Us, like it was aping those games' tones and cadences and beats without ever really hitting on what made them so memorable and unique. Not a bad game, really, but a pretty big disappointment after how much I adored Brothers.

Now, for some spoilers, because the late-game twist is a problem entirely of its own that I need to talk about.

Right, so, [SPOILERS!] Ahead. For the rest of the post.

Okay. Vincent and Leo successfully infiltrate Harvey's Mexican fortress (because, of course a guy small enough to "double-cross" a two-bit criminal like Leo has a Mexican fucking fortress) and kill like three dozen henchmen on their way to murdering Harvey and reclaiming some stolen diamond. (It's one of the coolest slow-motion villain deaths I've seen in a video game, to its credit.) Now, all game you've been working together with your co-op partner, likely your friend, to problem solve and to flank and kill bad guys and to determine the best course of action. Only now, Vincent and Leo return to the U.S. only to be met by an entire squadron of police officers, FBI, whoever, whatever, and,  shocker, Vincent is one of them! This whole time, Vincent's been a cop, using Leo in order to find and kill Harvey and recover the big stolen diamond.

Let's put aside how misguided and stupid this plan is, how much more sense it would have made for the cops to cut a deal with Leo for his help, how much more sense it would have made for more than two people(!) to storm Harvey's stronghold in Mexico. I mean, all of that aside, the whole thing just doesn't fit at all within the tone and vibes of the game. I was Vincent, in our playthrough, and Keith was Leo. And when it was revealed that "I" was a cop all along, Keith and I just started laughing, like it was a bad movie. And so as the final chapter played out in a twisted knot of circumstances, with me ostensibly "chasing" Keith down to try to arrest him, and Keith ostensibly trying to escape by any means necessary, I just let him get away. Or at least, I wanted to. It was clear as day, now, that this would be a multiple-ending game. Rather than gun Keith/Leo down after we'd bonded by escaping prison and visitng each other's families, I was content to let him ride off into the sunset.

Nope! The game explicitly ultimately pits Leo against Vincent in a fight to the death. You can both hang around not attacking each other for as long as you want, but, you're only prolonging the ending. You can explore the warehouse you're in for a way out, but, ironically, there just isn't a way out! The game can only end with Vincent killing Leo or Leo killing Vincent. So Keith and I agreed to let Leo kill Vincent, and to ride off into the sunset. (Again, so many problems with this. Leo was being chased by helicopters and police boats and like fifty cops overall when, somehow, he and Vincent alone ended up in a warehouse. And now, by killing Vincent, Leo can escape easily and undetected? Come on!) So Leo kills Vincent, and with his dying breath, Vincent is like, "please.. give this letter to my estranged wife..." And in ending cutscenes we see Leo do just that, and see Vincent's police officer funeral complete with twenty-one-gun salute, and we see Leo collect his family from their shitty trailer park and just ride off into, yes, the sunset.

As far as we're concerned, this is the canonical ending, the better ending. We fired the game back up as soon as it ended and had Vincent kill Leo instead, and do you know what happens? Vincent just goes to Leo's trailer to tell his wife about how he killed him. Then Vincent goes home to his estranged wife and their new baby, and meanwhile Leo's wife and son are mourning at his gravestone. There's less weight to it, less gravity, and it's clearly the less emotional ending, the afterthought, not the one the creators were proud of.

But again, the whole final chapter just spits in the face of the game's essence! There should have been a way for both men to make it out alive, even if that way was convoluted or difficult to pull off - hell, even if it had required a precise combination of events to occur throughout the game. I've wrestled with the ending of The Last of Us for a long time, but I've ultimately come around to the camp that says, "it's good!" I struggled as that game ended to come to terms with the idea of the hero, Joel, just going completely rogue and dooming humanity out of selfishness. I wanted the game to give me an option not to do that, but I've accepted that it was simply the only ending to the story that the game makers wanted to tell. Fine! But this felt different. If these men were doomed to betray one another from the start, I dunno, make me feel that. Make me realize that. Don't let me pick apart all the ways in which things could have gone differently.

My mind of course went straight to Double Dragon, the '80s co-op arcade beat-em-up in which, after you and your partner beat the final boss and save the girl, you then fight to the death over the girl. It's played for laughs there, obviously, darkly comic and twisted, almost an Easter egg of an end-game joke scene. But thirty years later, it feels hacky and shitty to make such a downer of an ending inevitable n a game about how these men built a bond and a relationship. Like, the natural conclusion here is for Vincent to let Leo get away, and then face the music. Or, for more gravity, to force Vincent to kill another cop in order to enable Vincent's escape - maybe those are your tow alternate endings right there. Or maybe there's a third alternate, where the guy playing as Leo can turn himself in, preventing Vincent from making that decision. Isn't that so much better? Here, there's still a conflict between Vincent ruining his life to save Leo's, and Leo ruining his life to save Vincent's. And, sure, for the jokers and the nihilists out there, you can still allow Vincent to kill Leo or Leo to kill Vincent. Four endings! Two outright sad, and two bittersweet. Maybe drive it home harder how much Leo's family loves and depends on him, and contrast it to just how badly Vincent has botched his relationship with his wife. Then when the game ends on a cell slamming on Leo, while his family is at home and starving and distraught, and Vincent has no one to go home to anyway, that's a special, deeper kind of tragedy. Or alternatively when Leo does ride off into the sunset with his wife and kid, and the cell door is slamming on Vincent the cop-killin' cop, Vinent goes out almost with a Tale of Two Cities type of honor.

Life is Strange is another recent game where you're asked to make a monumental and monumentally important decision at the end of the game - more or less, "save the world, lose the girl" - and when I made my choice (save the world and lose the girl, of course), the girl's funeral made for a wonderfully bittersweet stomach-punch of a final scene. "I did this," I thought. "But I did it to save each and every person here today to mourn."

Just feels like a great big missed opportunity for a game about cooperation to end on such a flat either/or like that. Boo.

Anyway, I've rambled more about the ending now than I've talked about the game itself.

Bottom line, play Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons if you haven't yet.

May 11, 2018

Superstore: Season 3


Superstore is a hard sell - a workplace sitcom on a fading network, and a show who's biggest name is probably America Ferrera - but dammit if this hasn't legitimately become top-tier comedy television for me! Take The Office, set it at a Wal-Mart, and you've more or less got the outline of Superstore. It's a show that's gotten better and stronger every season as its cast of characters continues to expand and deepen, not unlike The Office or Parks and Recreation before it. And it's a show that, honestly, you're proably best off just jumping right into. Pick a random episode in Season 2 or 3 and just pop in, see what's up. The characters don't share deep histories that you need to understand in order to follow along, or anything. (They're coworkers. They're all just coworkers, and some of them have fucked.)

I'm serious, though. If you watch the pilot, you'll probably squint and grit your teeth a little and cringe at how scripted and unnatural it all feels and sounds. But then, go ahead and watch any network sitcom pilot and tell me it doesn't feel that way.

What are you waiting for? Go check out an episode or two! Come on. Just do it. Come on.

One Day at a Time: Season 2


I may have said something like this a month or so ago, or whenever I posted about the first season of One Day at a Time, but it's a very specific and deliberate throwback-style sitcom. It's distinctly a "multi-cam in front a live studio audience" show that doesn't shy away from social issues or "real life" concerns at all. Back in the 1970s these shows were all over the place, but today everything is a single-cam without a laugh track, and if it isn't, it's a one-dimensional Chuck Lorre disaster.

The Alvarezes are a proudly Cuban-American family living in an apartment bulding, not their own house. Mom's a hard-working nurse, ex-military. Dad's out of the picture. Daughter's gay and a self-described social justice warrior. Son just lives it up, trying to enjoy high school. Grandma (Rita Moreno!) lives with the three of them as an undocumented immigrant who hasn't been back to Cuba in 50 years. And the landlord's a lovable failson who just drops in all the time and loves them all.

There's not a ton else going on, really! The majority of every episode takes place in the family's apartment and the show's mostly conversational in tone. Rarely truly heavy, but often political, or at least "real." Son's getting racially harassed at school, Mom's a candle burning at both ends trying to get through medical school while holding down a job. Daughter's got a tough relationship with her father, who's repulsed by her open gayness. Landlord walks in wearing a Che Guevara shirt and gets absolutely shredded by the Cuban-Americans he thought would appreciate it. Mom's struggling with PTSD. Daughter's struggling with dating. Grandma's struggling to respect her grandkids' generation while maintaining some conservative, "traditional" Cuban attitudes.

It's all... refreshing? This isn't a witty show, or even a clever one, but the Alvarezes feel so much more real and multi-dimensional and - importantly - likable than so many other 21st century TV families. It's absolute comfort food, but it's comfort food you can feel good about. Give it a shot! It's only thirteen episodes a season, and after a hearty push from TV critic Twitter, Netflix has renewed it for a third.

May 2, 2018

An Emmy For Megan: Season 1


Here's a very slight, uh, "TV show" that came out a couple days ago. The whole thing is like thirty minutes long. It's a ridiculously low-effort and self-referencing webseries from writer and Twitter personality Megan Amram about, yeah, her quest to win an Emmy for "best actress in a short-form webseries" or something similarly dumb but real. I mean, the entire series exists to mock and troll the Emmy Awards for having such low-stakes categories - it's hardly inconcievable to think Megan Amram just might actually get nominated for an Emmy for a show explicilty about how low the bar is to qualify for the exact Emmy she's trying to win. The requirements? At least six episodes, all of them under fifteen minutes long, and all of them released by April 27th, 2018 (which is, of course, the exact date this entire season dropped). That's it! That's all! I won't ruin the best joke in the show, but, it's the fourth episode. (I'm not saying it happens in the fourth episode, I'm saying it is, in fact, the fourth episode.)

I can't call this a must-watch by any stretch, but it's a funny enough way to kill half an hour or so. Lowest commitment "season" of "television" you'll see all year, too.