I enjoyed Abbott Elementary’s first season well enough, but the show really started coming into its own during this latest season. Parks and Recreation remains the most obvious touchstone, and while Abbott Elementary doesn’t quite reach that series’ level of joy and delight, it’s well on its way. It’s optimistic without being saccharine, topical without being too preachy. More importantly, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of Gregory’s flustered reactions, Jacob’s awkward wokeness, Barbara being a good Christian woman, Mr. Johnson’s eccentricities, or Janine’s pluck and determination. (Any and all jokes about her height and lack of fashion sense are just an added bonus.)
My Cultural Diet
I never finished Star Trek: Picard’s first season and had no interest in its second (even with Q’s return), but the prospect of the entire Enterprise-D crew returning for season three was just too much to pass up. A few quibbles aside — would people really still say “hipster” in the 25th century? — Picard’s final season was a great example of how to do nostalgia well. There were plenty of throwbacks, references, and familiar faces (e.g., Ro Laren, Moriarty, Elizabeth Shelby, Tuvok), but it all felt organic and earnest. And yes, I absolutely choked up when the Enterprise-D made her triumphant return. For my money, Riker was the season’s MVP. He brought a nice dose of humor and was critical to some of season three’s most intense emotional moments. The ebb and flow of his and Picard’s relationship was delightful to watch, and felt like a true decades-long friendship that, while full of love and respect, was not without tension. As for the season’s actual storyline, it was OK, if a little rushed. But the actual details mattered less to me than just getting to see some of my favorite TV characters back in action again.
When The Mandalorian debuted back in 2019, it was a delightful space-Western riff on Lone Wolf and Cub. Since then, the series has piled on ideas and lore (e.g., Grogu’s Jedi training, the Empire’s hijinks, the New Republic’s growing pains, Mandalorian history). Some of these ideas, like the rehabilitation of former Imperials, are interesting, but I’m not convinced that The Mandalorian is the best place for them. Not when the results feel as aimless, distracted, and perfunctory as they did this season. And it certainly doesn’t help that The Book of Boba Fett was basically Mandalorian season 2.5, or that we’re all still reeling from the awesomeness that was Andor’s first season. Mind you, the sight of Mandalorian warriors flying through the sky on their jetpacks will never not be cool, and Mando and Grogu’s bond is always cute, but unfortunately, the series as a whole just doesn’t seem to have much of a point or identity any more.
I like a good espionage thriller. You know the kind I’m talking about, filled with secret agents, black ops, innocent people on the run, and conspiracies that reach all the way to the highest levels of government. Netflix’s The Night Agent, adapted from Matthew Quirk’s 2019 novel, has all of these elements, as an FBI agent races to uncover a traitor in the US government while also protecting a woman targeted for assassination. But for all of these plot elements, The Night Agent lacked some necessary urgency or intensity. While I was never not entertained, I was never really on the edge of the my seat, either. Not helping was Hong Chau’s performance, which was — I think — supposed to be guarded and secretive, but just felt strained. Don’t get me started on the side-plot involving a pair of lovestruck assassins that felt like it was from a different title altogether. And the fact that the characters cussed like they’re in a Tarantino film only added to the series’ incongruity.
I didn’t really dislike anything about Netflix’s adaptation of the beloved comic series, though I do wish that Tom Sturridge looked a bit more Robert Smith-esque (but that’s just my inner high school goth talking). It’s obvious that the show was a passion project — Neil Gaiman’s writing tends to have that effect. But my somewhat muted reaction may be due to the fact that I was reading the volumes being adapted (Preludes & Nocturnes and The Doll’s House) at the same time, and no adaptation can truly capture the richness of Gaiman’s storytelling. (See also Stardust). I was glad to see, however, that Netflix toned down some of the comics’ nastiness (e.g., the diner episode, hard as it may be to believe, is much worse in the comics). All that said, I’m looking forward to season two because (A) the good stuff in Netflix’s Sandman is very good and (B) I’m excited to see Morpheus and Lucifer’s inevitable confrontation.
I probably would’ve have dismissed this as a generic CW-ish YA title were it not for the involvement of writer/director Joe Cornish (Attack the Block). While Lockwood & Co. certainly fulfills YA tropes, starting with its angsty young protagonists, it’s more substantial than it looks thanks to some intriguing world building and moments of grim cynicism reminiscent of Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle Royale (a good thing). Other pluses include solid performances from its three leads — Ruby Stokes, in particular, delivers an affecting performance while Ali Hadji-Heshmati channels some Richard Ayoade vibes (another good thing) — and some great soundtrack selections (e.g., The Cure, This Mortal Coil). I didn’t know I needed to see a ghost hunter swordfight set to the strains of “A Forest,” but turns out I did. Given Netflix’s proclivity for cancellations, though, I fear we may not get another season. Which is a shame, because this was a fun watch with plenty of potential.
The problem facing Alice in Borderland’s second season is two-fold. First, after establishing its crazy premise (random strangers wake up in an abandoned Tokyo and must survive by winning ultra-twisted games — think Lost meets Battle Royale), it has to constantly up the ante. And second, any explanations concerning the series’ world, the purpose of the games, etc., are bound to be underwhelming. To its credit, I think Alice in Borderland understands that; the series finale constantly toys with your expectations. Still, the ending is, well, underwhelming considering everything that transpires, à la Lost. But it’s a fun ride getting there and I was engaged by the characters’ stories, also like Lost. A third season seems unlikely, but if it happens, I’ll watch it.
I didn’t like season two as much as season one — I think it wasted too much time on the characters’ various global travels — but I still enjoy the film’s Wes Anderson-esque aesthetic and of course, Constance Contraire remains a delight.
The focus here is mainly on Drax and Mantis’ exploits as they try to kidnap Kevin Bacon. The other Guardians basically make glorified cameos. (Chris Pratt looks like he’s sleepwalking through much of his screen time.) That said, I was inordinately pleased to hear Cosmo the Dog speak and the very final scene got me surprisingly teary-eyed, due largely to Pom Klementieff’s performance. Sidenote: I hope Low got a nice royalty check for the inclusion of “Just Like Christmas.”
This Amazon/BBC western mini-series tries to pack a lot of storyline into six episodes, maybe too much storyline. It felt like it was missing an episode or two that could’ve helped to flesh things out. (Or maybe that’s just a sign that it left me wanting more, in a good way.) Still, there’s much to like, from the striking visuals and bone-dry sense of humor to the memorable characters and stark observations of the American Old West (and in particular, the treatment of Native Americans).
As witty and charming as you’d expect from Noah. He does a fun variation of his classic “Black Hitler” bit and his final story had me craving Indian food like nobody’s business.
There were times when I didn’t know what was going on: there were a few too many plot threads and the season finale was needlessly confusing and open-ended. Even so, I still really dug this Amazon sci-fi series thanks to its numerous characters and its interesting spin on cyberpunk tropes. In other words, I’m looking forward to season two.
The best thing to happen to Star Wars in years. The Mandalorian has Baby Yoda, The Bad Batch is enjoyable, and it was nice to see Ewan McGregor take up Obi-Wan again, but Andor expands and deepens the Star Wars universe without relying on nostalgia or any of the usual tropes. And in doing so, it gives us some awesome new characters (e.g., Luthen, B2EMO) and a thrilling, even thought-provoking storyline. I can’t wait for season two.
I still enjoy Lower Decks’ poking fun of Star Trek tropes, but this season didn’t click for me as much the previous one did. Perhaps the constant references and throwbacks are wearing a bit thin now. Hopefully, they can inject some fresh life into the series for the already-announced fourth season.
I had some quibbles with this first season, due mainly to its attempts at juggling four different storylines and keeping them balanced and cohesive, dramatically, chronologically, and geographically. (Just how, exactly, did the Númenóreans travel upriver and arrive in Tirharad so quickly?) Also, its efforts to feel appropriately Tolkien-ish (e.g., dropping in references like “always follow your nose”) got a bit ham-handed at times. But the series’ heart is clearly in the right place, there’s lots of heartfelt talk about loyalty, sacrifice, and fellowship (e.g., Elrond and Durin), the steady religiosity was a nice touch, and of course, it looked absolutely fantastic. So yes, bring on Season Two (which has already begun filming).
I wanted to like this more than I actually did. The story — based on Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang’s comic — was interesting and the young cast was game enough, but this is one of those cases where the various pieces just didn’t click. Also, don’t believe any Stranger Things comparisons; aside from being (partially) set in ’80s, Paper Girls has little-to-nothing in common with the Netflix series. There was a lot of potential here that will sadly be unrealized since Amazon canceled the series.
After weeks of seeing clips of her standup on Instagram, we finally watched Taylor Tomlinson’s Netflix special. I guess the algorithm works. There are some pretty hilarious, albeit dark and twisted, moments in Tomlinson’s routine, with the “dead mom” and “bipolar disorder” jokes winning out over the “porn for women” jokes.
My favorite MCU title in a long time, with style, energy, and humor reminiscent of Into the Spider-Verse (a very good thing). The season falters a bit in the middle — the Karachi episodes feel like they’re from a different series/season altogether — but it begins strong and ends well. I almost wish Ms. Marvel was disconnected from the larger MCU for a little while longer so that it could remain its own special thing unbeholden to a larger mythos. Also, Abbu Hulk forever!
Overall, I enjoyed this season a lot more than season three, but it could’ve done without one or two storylines (the Russia storyline, in particular, dragged quite a bit). It felt like the Duffers wrote themselves into a corner after season three, and had to spend most of season four untangling things. Even so, it’s still Stranger Things, and therefore, filled with wonderful moments (e.g., “Running Up That Hill,” “Master of Puppets,” Hopper’s confession).
Another “classic” anime OVA from late ’80s. Given both its stylish animation and ultra-gratuitous content, I should’ve guessed that it was directed by Yoshiaki Kawajiri (of Ninja Scroll and Wicked City fame). I don’t really recommend this one, though the old-school cel animation was kind of refreshing to watch. Also, nothing looks cooler than futuristic Tokyo cityscapes as depicted in ’80s anime.