The Many Saints of Newark Stages of Grief

Many Saints of Newark

I’m sorry to say that I finally got around to watching The Many Saints of Newark. To say it was disappointing is not to do it justice. I feel like I went through some version of the stages of grief while watching the hot mess that can charitably be described as disjointed fan service.

I’m a big Sopranos fan. I loved the show and watched the entire arc twice through and wouldn’t mind doing so again. I even wrote a blog about how Little Carmine Lupertazzi most certainly did not kill Tony Soprano in the show finale.

I read the various reviews of The Many Saints of Newark and I knew it didn’t live up to expectations, that people were disappointed. These reviews did not prepare me for the reality. On with my grief.

Stage One: Expectations

Even though I read the negative reviews of The Many Saints of Newark I still went in with at least middling hopes. I didn’t expect it to be great but I did imagine a mildly entertaining movie and perhaps a few nods to the brilliance of the original series.

My expectations were largely met in the first twenty minutes or so of The Many Saints of Newark. Then we kept getting scene after scene but no actual plot, not story, no through theme, no structure. I discussed this problem in The Gilded Age so you can read my full thoughts here. Eventually, I said to myself, there has to be a main plot, right? This is David Chase after all. His brilliance in the series cannot be denied.

Stage Two: Confusion

We’re an hour into the show now and there is still no sign of plot. Wait, did they just kill the Ray Liotta character. I saw previews where he spoke with Dickie Moltisanti in prison. He can’t be dead, can he? No, he’s dead. I mean, he’s on fire and not saying anything which is a good indicator.

No, seriously? A twin brother? You’ve got to be kidding me? Is this an afternoon Soap Opera? I’m utterly confused at this point and still waiting for a plot of any kind. There has to be some direction eventually doesn’t there?

Stage Three: Rage

I’m angry now. It’s nothing but a series of scenes with lots of fan service. Entire scenes are simply designed to provide a line of fan service to those of who loved The Sopranos. This is ludicrous. How did this happen? Screw you for spitting on the legacy of the Sopranos. Why, David Chase. Screw you, Many Saints of Newark.

You are this bad. You are really terrible. The acting is fine. The sets are good. There is no main story. There is no structure! Why is anything happening? There are twelve different storylines going on and none of them are explored with anything other than superficiality. There is no central thread. This movie sucks!

I hate every single character in the movie. I hate them all.

Stage Four: Rationalization

Ok, I accept The Many Saints of Newark is awful. I’m over that. It’s bad and these things happen. It’s got to be that Chase didn’t want to make the movie. That he made it at the behest of money loving studio executives and intentionally sabotaged it.

He let the executives write the script. He did everything they wanted in a deliberate attempt to make a bad movie. Yeah, that’s got to be it. Chase can’t have completely gone off the deep end. It’s deliberately bad. There will be some nod, some tip, right near the end, to let me know it’s all a goof.

Stage Five: Acceptance

Dickie drowns the girl? Junior kills Dickie? The ending is more fan service? Ok. It’s bad. They tried. The magic is gone. You can never go home again. At least I’ll get a blog out of it.

Tom Liberman

By Jove The Gilded Age Finally Got it!

Gilded Age

It took an entire season, but The Gilded Age finally came through with a worthwhile episode. The season finale delivered on the hype by giving us an entertaining and watchable episode. I cared. I’m not saying the episode made me change my generally negative opinion about the show, but it gives me hope for season two.

Huzzah! Hurrah! I’ve been writing largely nothing but negative things about the show and I think that gives the impression I enjoy doing so. That I’m one of those reviewers who prefers to give negative assessments and make cutting remarks.

This is not true. I want The Gilded Age to be good because excellent entertainment is in my best interest. I prefer good shows. I’m not the sort to be happy when my team loses because it validates my hate. In any case, why was this episode good? Read on.

A Central Theme in the Gilded Age

I wrote an entire blog on why an episode needs a central theme to hold it together and the season finale had it. The entire episode swirled around the debutant coming out party for Gladys. Sure, we had Marion’s ice hot love life to distract us along with Peggy’s revelation and the chef’s troubles, but the entire episode had the structural support it needed.

With the debutant ball to hold everything together we came back to the main structure again and again. The side plots entertained us briefly but then we returned to the support that held everything together. This is the foundation of a good episode. It keeps us grounded and focused on a particular thing.

I hope my complaints earlier about the lack of such support make more sense now that we’ve seen it done properly. The actors are all working around this idea. The scenes are not scattered all over the five boroughs without relation to one another. Cohesions.

A Single Timeline

With the support of the debutant ball to focus the plots, the fuzzy timelines of all the previous episodes vanished. We didn’t see one character pass through a week while other characters were still back on the same day eating dinner. Because of the ball, everyone moved at the same rate. Everyone was going to the ball so time, by force, had to pass at the same rate for everyone.

Improved Acting

I’m not going to pass out awards for the acting but it showed a marked improvement. It wasn’t all about one character cutting down another with witty remarks. We didn’t have an overwhelming plethora of quick scenes designed around a zinger at the end. The main story forced the characters to work with one another, to care for one another. We saw longer scenes, real interactions, meaningful character development.

We had Raikes as a foil and the battle of wills between Bertha and Mrs. Astor played out through the friendship of their daughters. I was immersed in the battles.

Contrivance

Ok, there was a ton of contrivance, I know. The bank loan, the chef’s revelation and his drunken replacement, the letter revealing Peggy’s son, the elopement and the ball on the same night, it was all clearly contrived and rather silly but I can overlook that when everything else is well done.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, there must be conflict and sometimes that requires coincidence and a little creativity from the author. Believe me, I’ve done it my books and I don’t begrudge the writer a bit of leeway in this regard.

Conclusion

I’m very pleased to be writing this positive review of The Gilded Age. I wish I could have done it earlier. The season finale did things properly as far as structure and that elevated the entire episode.

The idea is technical and I won’t get delve deeply but there is a thing called the Five Act structure. It’s been around since ancient Greece. It’s a foundation upon which to build a story. Ignore it at your peril.

Tom Liberman

Oh Sanditon don’t be The Gilded Age

Sanditon

The much-anticipated premier episode of the second season of Sanditon arrived with fanfare on PBS and because of that, you get to hear my thoughts about it. I’ll be clear right away, I’m not one to mince words. The episode borrowed far too much from The Gilded Age and that does not make me happy.

I don’t think the episode nearly met the low standards of The Gilded Age but it seemed the producers of Sanditon, at least in this first episode, used the same playbook as those who created the aforementioned series.

Now, perhaps it’s a good thing to borrow from a successful show but to my way of thinking, success is not equivalent to high quality. Let’s get on with it.

Blistering Pace

Sanditon blasts off with all the subtlety of an Elon Musk product launch. The opening iambic pentameter recap just wasted time reminding us of the events of the previous season. Then came the race to start every plotline as quickly as possible.

Sidney is dead, Charlotte is returning with her sister, Sanditon is rebuilt, loans must be repaid, miscarriages, army units, nefarious officers, dashing officers, children running under horses, women working for a living; it’s all happening too fast. Who, what, why, when, where? Doesn’t matter, stand aside, we’ve got to introduce every conflict as quickly as possible instead of letting them unfold organically.

Out of Time Sequences

Scenes out of time and out of place is a particular annoyance of mine although I know it doesn’t bother others as much. It’s a staple in the Gilded Age where one character has five days roll by and another only has a single afternoon pass when they meet for lunch.

It wasn’t nearly as egregious in Sanditon, but Charlotte went from applying for the position of governess to having lunch with the Parkers and then to walking back from the job interview. Maybe the good Doctor Who intervened somewhere to make that possible.

Contrived Conflict

The majority of the conflict seem to come out of nowhere. Why does Miss Lamb hate the artist who will clearly be her love interest? The argument between Charlotte and her employer was out of place. Even the military unit’s presence in town didn’t make a lot of sense. As for the two wayward children, they seemed almost like alien entities. Why are they here? What’s going on? Don’t know, don’t care, we need plot!

Now, I’m not a stickler for this sort of thing. You’ve got to have conflict and sometimes you need contrivance to make it happen. A few coincidences and events I don’t mind, but it was just one after the next in the premier episode.

Not All Bad

The middle section of the show slowed down to a calmer pace. Particularly, the story of Lady Esther Babbington arrived organically and makes sense. The plot line of the loaned money also seemed very natural and normal as did the cliffhanger regarding Miss Lamb.

The acting is universally strong and that stands in stark contrast to the Gilded Age. The director lets the actors act rather than forcing stilted conversation on them. They speak to one another rather than at each other. It is this quality acting that largely saves Sanditon in my opinion.

Conclusion

I hold out every hope the frantic pace of the premier episode of the second season will disappear into the background. That the show, with all the conflict set in motion, will move forward at a more regular pace.

A boy can hope, can’t he?

Tom Liberman

Introducing New Characters Gilded Age and Winning Time

New characters comparison

Introducing new characters into a series is not always an easy task. When the series is in its first season the audience meets new people fairly frequently and how they interact with the existing characters is important.

Today I’m discussing the way the Gilded Age and Winning Time introduced a new character and why I think one method is better than the other. In both cases the new character is a crotchety older woman and mother to an established character. That’s why I thought it might be an apt comparison.

Mean Old Mom

In The Gilded Age we’ve met the nasty housekeeper, Armstrong, from the Van Rhijn estate on several occasions as she made life miserable for Peggy and others. Meanwhile, Dr. Buss is one of the main characters in Winning Time and we know a lot about him.

Both of those characters have mothers, obviously. It turns out both women are more than a bit crotchety.

We meet Armstrong’s mother when Armstrong takes a day off from work to help the bed-ridden woman. Armstrong takes non-stop abuse from the horrible woman. Mom is as one-dimensional a character as you can imagine. Mean. That’s it, no more, no other traits, nothing redeeming.

Meanwhile we meet Momma Buss when her son comes to her with the company books for help with accounting issues. She’s biting in her critique of Dr. Buss and they have quite the exchange that seemed like real family to me. Near the end it is clear that while she is nasty, she also cares for her son and wants what is best.

The Purpose of Side Characters

Often times the purpose of side characters is to give us insight into the main character. By meeting Armstrong’s mother and Momma Buss we should learn about the two more important characters.

In this case it seems to me the idea of introducing Armstrong’s mother as a miserable and hateful person was to make us more sympathetic to the longtime Van Rhijn maid and her treatment of Peggy.

The idea behind introducing Momma Buss is to give us some awareness of the kind of upbringing Dr. Buss had and perhaps his own drive to succeed.

The Aftermath

After meeting both mothers, I liked Momma Buss despite her flaws but Armstrong’s mother was so vile, so mean, so without redeeming characteristics that I should have disliked her but, because of her one-dimensional nature, I didn’t really care much one way or the other.

This is a general problem with the Gilded Age. We cycle through characters and story lines so quickly that I don’t really get to know anyone at all. I don’t hate them but I also can’t say that I genuinely like any character in the Gilded Age. Young Jack is likeable and we got an extended scene with him this week but that’s not a topic for today.

As discussed, I think portraying Armstrong’s mother so negatively was to get us to have sympathy for Armstrong. And yet, in the latest episode, Armstrong is absolutely horrible. I don’t like her. I have no sympathy for her. So why did we meet her horrible mother? One more person to dislike on The Gilded Age? As if there aren’t enough?

Meanwhile, the short scene with Momma Buss gave us insight in Dr. Buss as did the scene with Red Auerbach. Michael Chiklis absolutely slayed it in that role by the way.

New Characters Add to the Story

The new characters in Winning Time, Momma Buss and Auerbach, added greatly to the story. They interacted with the main characters in ways that pushed the story forward. In ways that gave me insight into the main characters. They were introduced seamlessly and easily.

New characters in the Gilded Age; Armstrong’s mother, Mrs. Fish, Carrie Astor, and many more don’t really seem to do much. They are there. They speak. The allow other events to happen but they don’t interact meaningfully with the main characters. They give us little or no insight and they come and go like a freight train in the night.

Conclusion

I don’t say Winning Time is a perfect show or that The Gilded Age is without merit. I say that someone at Winning Time understands how to tell a compelling story and maybe someone over at the Gilded Age should take some notes.

Tom Liberman

Talking at Each other in the Gilded Age

Talking at each other

I watched episode eight of The Gilded Age last night and I’m afraid it was largely just characters talking at each other. Any momentum from last week’s moderately decent episode went flying out the window. Almost the entire episode consisted of one character spitting out their lines at a breakneck pace without giving the words of the other character even the slightest consideration.

Honestly, I’ve seen some terrible entertainment over the years but this was the worst case of characters talking at each other I’ve ever witnessed. The problem of too many short scenes recurred, the problem of no central theme recurred, the problem of time flow recurred, it was a cornucopia of everything wrong with the Gilded Age.

Talking at Each Other

What do I mean by characters talking at each other being bad? Isn’t that what people do? I speak and the other person responds. That’s the normal flow of conversation, right? Wrong. The normal flow of conversation is that one person speaks, the second person listens to those words, formulates a reply, and then answers.

If I want to watch two people talk at each other I’ll turn on the local opinion show that masquerades as news. That’s just one idiot saying something and the other moron responding with whatever they wanted to say regardless of what they just heard. That’s not what I expect from a highly produced television series.

Sadly, that’s exactly what happened in this episode, time and time again. One person spoke and almost before the sentence ended the second person spat out a cutting reply with no intonation, no reflection, no indication of any emotion. Just a quick, sharp, and move on to the next scene so I can see someone in a different outfit.

A Good Dialog

The only reasonable dialog in episode eight occurred when George discussed the derailment issue with his experts. The experts, minor characters, actually listened to George, thought about his words, and then replied at a normal pace indicating they listened to his original statement. It was startling to see the contrast between the bit players and the main actors.

Bad Acting?

Is bad acting to blame? I’m don’t think so, at least not in every case. Christine Baranski and Cynthia Nixon are two capable, veteran actors with good work to their credits. Even they seem to struggle to speak their lines with emotion and thought rather than spit them out like a runaway steam locomotive.

I’m of the opinion it’s the directing. The actors are being told to spew out their lines quickly and without emotion, to not pause, to fail to consider their opposite’s words. The problem is far too universal and largely only with the main characters to simply be bad acting.

Now, it’s possible some of it is bad acting, I don’t deny that and I think everyone knows the actors of whom I speak. But, it’s also possible that those actors are actually talented with potential but being wrecked by terrible direction.

Conclusion

The season is barreling toward its conclusion with Gladys’s debutant ball. Perhaps when it comes time to film the second season someone will have noted all the problems and try to give this show the direction it needs. I hold out little hope for the remaining episodes.

Tom Liberman

The Fourth Wall in Winning Time

Winning Time and the Fourth Wall

Winning Time is an HBO series telling the story of the rise of the Los Angeles Lakers in the 1980s. The actors in the show break the Fourth Wall with great frequency and that is the focus of my blog today.

The show is about Dr. Jerry Buss who purchased the Lakers in 1979 and his attempt to build a championship team around young Earvin ‘Magic’ Johnson, Jr. I’ll break any suspense by telling you I think it’s a pretty good show … at times. Then the actors break the fourth wall and it’s not so good.

What is the Fourth Wall?

The Fourth Wall is line between the stage and the audience. The actors are actors and the audience is the audience. An actor generally pretends she or he does not know the audience is out there watching. He or she performs. This means pretending to be the character in question rather than an actor portraying that character.

The purpose of the Fourth Wall is to immerse the audience in the performance. It is generally important for us to believe the person on the screen is Dr. Jerry Buss, not John C. Reilly an actor pretending to be Buss.

Why Ignore the Fourth Wall?

There are reasons to ignore the Fourth Wall and the character Deadpool from comic and movie fame is a perfect illustration. Deadpool understands he is a character and we are watching him. His jokes revolve around the idea of this self-awareness.

There is, in my opinion, no reason to do this in Winning Time.

Why Breaking the Fourth Wall hurts the Show

The show, when the actors are acting instead of mugging for the audience is quite good. The only time Reilly isn’t excellent in the role of Buss is when he’s talking to us. Rob Morgan is absolutely slaying it as Earvin Johnson, Sr. I believe every second of his performance as a caring, loving father and, not surprisingly, none of his scenes break the wall.

DeVaugn Nixon is excellent as Norm Nixon, worried about the young Johnson coming in and taking his job. Michael O’Keefe is superb as Jack Kent Cooke. Jason Clarke’s rage as Jerry West, whether accurate or not, comes across with red-hot intensity.

Largely, the only time the show doesn’t work is when the actors break the Fourth Wall. Doing this has two negative effects. First it immediately takes me away from immersion. I realize I’m watching actors and not actual events and people.

Second it is being used as exposition, to tell us something rather than showing it. A glaring example is when actor Gaby Hoffman turns to the camera and tells us she needs this job and then lets down her hair right before meeting with Buss. Why not just let down her hair? That tells us everything we need to know. I don’t want to watch Gaby Hoffman, I want to see Claire Rothman, a woman in a sea of misogyny, doing her job.

Black Culture

Getting away from the fourth wall for a moment I want to praise what appears me as a fair portrayal of black, urban culture. The family scenes with the Johnsons and the pedicure scene with Nixon rang very true to my eyes. The writers didn’t overplay these interactions to the point of parody nor did they hide the cultural norms of the community. They seemed true.

Now, I’m a white boy from the suburbs so I’m certainly not particularly well-qualified to make that judgement. I can say with utter honesty, the scenes convinced me, I was immersed.

Conclusion

It’s a good show but I wish they’d decided against going with a Fourth Wall breaking formula. The story of Buss, Johnson, and the others is fascinating on its own. That, of course, was not my decision to make and it’s not going to change.

I’ll be tuned in next week.

Tom Liberman

The Value of Transitions

Transitions

I just caught up with the latest episode of The Gilded Age and I’m happy to report myself moderately satisfied. Episode Six: Heads Have Rolled for Less than This wasn’t the greatest piece of film in cinematographic history but it showed a marked improvement over episode five.

However, that is not the topic of today’s blog. Today I will discuss transitions. Not particularly exciting, I know, but bear with me.

Transitions: going from one scene to the next. I’ve commented before that the scenes in The Gilded Age don’t have a common thread. That we’re thrown from one to the next without a lifeline to guide us. I tried to explain this in a previous review but two transitions in this episode particular illustrate the point I tried to make then.

Bad Transitions at the Red Cross Meeting

The scene begins with Marion and Peggy walking down the street discussing various things and ends with their arrival at the front of the building in which the meeting will take place. They are greeted by Clara Barton who exits a coach, speaks with them briefly, and then heads inside.

The scene cuts and we are now at the Van Rhijn household although it took me until almost the scene finished to figure this out. The transition was quick and without explanation. I had no idea where I was or who was talking. It turned out to be the maid and Ada Brook. The maid paying back the loan taken to cover her gambling debts.

Then the next scene we are inside at the Red Cross meeting where Mrs. Russell is being discussed. The transition between the Red Cross scenes served only to confuse me.

Why place the maid scene in between the two others? It made no sense and forced my mind away from the goings on at the Red Cross, the topics being discussed by Marion and Peggy, the general flow of the story.

The transitions did not enhance either of the scenes and there seemed to be no connection. It was jarring, unnerving even, and certainly took me out of the flow.

Good Transitions at Lunchtime

The good transition begins in the servants’ quarters at the Van Rhijn household where young Jack is filling in for Bannister. He nervously prepares to serve the luncheon and is encouraged by Bridget as he heads off into the lion’s den to face the aunts.

As he opens the door the transition happens. The doors that open are those at the Russell household where the grand lunch is being served. It was perfect, seamless, and purposeful.

This illustrates that scene transitions don’t necessarily have to be about related events. It was the simple fact that doors opened to a luncheon, in different locations, that worked.

Film Editing

The film editor sorted through various scenes and chose to put these scenes next to one another. That’s a conscious action. It’s done presumably for a reason and yet I can find no good reason for the first instance and applaud heartily the second.

It’s frustrating to see the luncheon transitions because it means the film editor is actually paying attention. If the film editor observed such attention to detail in one case, why not in others?

Conclusion

Why, I ask, why? It’s clear someone does know how to create good transitions. The luncheon proves it. Why not do it more frequently? Why not structure the episode so that one scene flows into the next without jarring the audience?

I hope this small illustration gives you a better idea what I tried to convey in my other blog. Good transitions and proper scene structure can enhance a show greatly.

Does my explanation of the good and bad transitions make sense to you?

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Tom Liberman

The Winner for the Most Scenes in One Episode Goes to

Most scenes

The Gilded Age Episode 5! Congratulations. If the goal was to cram the most scenes into the shortest amount of time, you win. All Creatures Great and Small, which I’d recommend, has less scenes in two full series than what I just witnessed.

I’m in shock. My brain reels. Did I just get run over by a train? If soldiering and critiquing were analogous, they’d diagnose me with post-traumatic stress disorder. Luckily for me that’s not the case and I’ll surely recover.

Stopwatch

Honestly, if I didn’t think it might cause me emotional distress, I’d go back and watch that episode again with my phone’s stopwatch engaged and a pad of paper to count the scenes. Wham, bam, thank you, Tom but the Gilded Age is already out the door and onto a completely different storyline. Don’t stop, don’t think.

There had to be a dozen or more scenes that lasted less than a minute. New scene, new place, new people, stilted dialog, go! Next! Faster! Faster! We’ve no time for character development, no time for emotional attachment, no time for a story to develop. Get moving and get moving now!

Bridget and Jack, Bye Bye

Bridget and Jack’s compelling story? No time, Tom. No time! We’ve got to get on with the housekeeper and her mother. Don’t you know we can’t dwell; we can’t risk you caring about anyone in the cornucopia of plots. Bridget’s serial rape and trauma, that’s behind us now, Tom. Catch up, catch up, catch up!

The Passage of Time

Don’t worry about the passage of time. It’s later, or the same time, or before. We’re not sure. It’s a scene! People in fancy clothes. It’s virginal and chaste girls swapping spit on their first kiss. Here, there, everywhere. Don’t worry, Tom. It doesn’t matter when or why; we’ve got to get the most scenes in as quick as we can. Go, go, go!

Speak Fast

Speak as quickly as possible with as little inflection as possible. Scenes, more scenes, we need more scenes, we need the most scenes ever put together in a single episode of television!

Clothes

New outfits, quick, hurry, don’t pause, that’s what people want. If we have the most scenes, we have the most outfits. Quick, into the changing room.

Nathan Lane

Good god, Nathan! Didn’t you get the message? Why are you speaking slowly, carefully, with emotion and thought behind your words? Don’t you know what show you’re on? Off, off, get him off. He cares about acting, he understands the structure of scene. Fire him, immediately. What? He’s under contract for more episodes. Damn. Get me the writers, cut his lines!

Paragraphs

More paragraphs, yes, that will make this article compelling. More headings, more paragraphs. Quicker, Tom, quicker. No one can pay attention for more than thirty seconds, you fool.

Conclusion

My head hurts. That episode was horrific.

The End

Accounting for Change in Around the World in 80 Days

Around the world in 80 Days

A moment in the finale of Around in the World in 80 Days gives me a chance to discuss accounting for change. As probably a few of my regular blog readers know, I write novels. And a serial as well. In the writing process, not everything stays the same from draft to draft.

One vitally important thing is accounting for change. When something changes early you must remember it and change later events to match.

I can’t say for sure what changed from one episode to the next in Around the World in 80 Days. I’m not privy to that information, obviously. But, as a young man who grew up reading Jules Verne and other authors of the same ilk, I am familiar with the source material.

Let’s talk about Abigail Fix.

The Original

In Around the World in 80 Days there is no Abigail Fix. There is Detective Fix of the Scotland Yard. Fix spots Fogg in Egypt and mistakes him for a bank robber of vaguely the same description. The purpose of the change is of little interest to me, it is accounting for it that focuses my attention.

Abigail adds to the story in a number of ways. She is a love interest. Fix is a confidant for Fogg. The plucky Fix is an independent woman in the world. What is she also? A reporter. That’s important. Because, you see, in the original version of the story, the journey is largely made in anonymity. The press knows nothing of the endeavor.

No one knows of the arrival in London. Our heroes think they are too late to win the wager and only learn of the mistake just in time. They rush to the Reform Club in the nick of time. All well and good, in the novel at least.

The New Version

In the new version of the story someone needs to be in charge of accounting for change. You see, Fix has published the exploits of Fogg to the world. They are met in New York by a phalanx of reporters and the boarding of the Henrietta is international news. The clamor of the world is upon them. This change from the original story is brought on by the addition of Fix the reporter instead of Fix the detective.

The passage of the Henrietta and thus Fogg and his companions is public knowledge. They are famous. It’s an integral change to the original story. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about the change. I don’t mind Fix as a female reporter. I don’t mind the fame of the journey. I’m no purist. If a female dwarf doesn’t have a beard, I’m completely fine with it.

Accounting for Change

The problem, I’m sure you realize by now, even if you did not while watching the episode, is all of London should be waiting for the Henrietta to dock. One imagines an adoring crowd waiting to carry Fogg and his companions to the Reform Club in glorious triumph. Oopsie.

Someone didn’t account for change!

The ending needs to change! The ending must be altered to accommodate for this change or it makes no sense. As, I said, I’m not a purist. It’s fine to change things to match a modern standard, to tweak the story in interesting ways.

A sat mouth agape, “This doesn’t work,” I said to myself, perhaps out loud even. I’m a nuisance this way, just ask anyone who knows me.

Conclusion

Luckily, I wasn’t all that invested in this show anyway. It never grabbed my interest the way I hoped and my previous reviews get into that. I’ll not reiterate here. Even with that said, failure in accounting for change at the climax left me downright peeved. The officious customs clerk makes no sense. The lonely journey to his home, the surprise of his butler, none of it. It’s all so very, very wrong.

That was before the denouement hinting at further adventures. All I have to say about that is; Adieu, Professor Pierre Aronnax, it appears it’s into the rubbish bin for you as well.

Tom Liberman

Episode Editing and the Gilded Age

The Gilded Age

I just finished watching episode four of The Gilded Age and the episode editing struck me with the force of a runaway locomotive. It’s a problem I’ve noted in previous reviews, but this week’s episode editing lacked any semblance of a deft touch.

Film editing is the process of turning a bunch of scenes into an episode. We tend to think of it more in a movie than a television show but there is no doubt a good editor can make a profound difference in the flow of a television show as well as feature length film.

It’s a difficult art to perform correctly and even describing why the episode editing failed so abysmally in the Gilded Age is not easy for me to illustrate. Nevertheless, I shall try.

From Jumbled Scenes to Episode

When we watch a television show we see it in sequence and we generally don’t give it much thought. There is someone who does think about it a great deal. The film editor is given a bunch of scenes and must stitch them together in a coherent story that at least attempts to follow the original script. It’s not an easy job.

Each episode is really just a series of scenes, many of them unrelated to one another. In a show with a large cast and many competing storylines, like The Gilded Age, this is even more difficult. The film editor is trying to piece together a strong narrative that emotionally captures the viewer. If she or he does it right, the audience becomes entranced, we watch the scenes flow by and forget they are separate entities. We see a smoothly moving river.

When it’s done poorly, we lose immersion, we are yanked from one place to another without a strong thread to keep us attached.

I’m not saying each scene has to be directly related to the previous but I am saying you don’t want to ruin the mood, the emotions, the feelings generated by one scene; by following it with something out of place. Perhaps an example is necessary.

Poor Bridget

Bridget reveals her repeated rapes at the hands of her father, and how she hates her mother even more for allowing it to happen. That is a powerful, tragic, horrific scene. It is immediately followed by Peggy’s lunch with her parents and Marion’s ludicrous present. Pardon my language, but what the fuck was the film editor thinking? I cannot think of a worse scene to follow such a deeply disturbing moment.

There is no connection, no continuity, it’s almost like we’re supposed to forget what we just witnessed with Bridget. That Marion’s white privilege is a more egregious offense.

I can think of several scenes to better follow up the horror of Bridget’s confession. The scheming maid jumping into George’s bed contrasts a sexually emancipated woman to brutalized Bridget. Perhaps a scene with Agnes van Rhijn talking about the abuse she suffered in her marriage.

The profound emotional attachment I briefly felt for Bridget was swept away like water under a bridge. See ya.

Bertha’s Snobbery

Another scene begging for contrast and comparison is when Bertha puts down Raikes for his lack of money. Why not precede this with a scene where Bertha herself is snubbed for her lack of social standing. Showing that she is guilty of largely the same thing she rails against? Opportunities like this are readily available in any drama. Good dramas take advantage of them to keep the momentum from one scene going to the next, through the entire episode.

Lack of Flow

The episode editing in The Gilded Age shows us scene after scene but they have no connection, no flow. I’m don’t have time to absorb what just happened when a new thing happens. I’m not saying each scene has to be directly related to the previous but there needs to be a thread for the audience. We see little to nothing of this in The Gilded Age, no continuity, and thus a lessened impact, no emotional attachment to the characters.

It’s as if the episode editing was done by a random number generator rather than someone concerned with telling a cohesive and compelling story. The transitions are so jarring, I’m immediately taken out of immersion, my mind tasked with recalibrating and focusing on something entirely new, again and again.

Conclusion

Good episode editing isn’t easy, I don’t pretend it is. Someone makes difficult decisions to whittle down many hours of scenes into a single episode. It seems like no one is even trying in The Gilded Age and that’s a shame. So much potential is being wasted in any number of ways, as I’ve discussed in other episode reviews.

Tom Liberman

The Difficulties of a Travel Story

Around the world in 80 Days

Around the World in 80 Days is a travel story. There is no getting around it and this presents story-telling difficulties. This week’s episode of Around the World in 80 Days demonstrated some of the problems and I’d like to look at it closely from that aspect.

The overarching problem in a travel story is that locations and secondary characters change from week to week or chapter to chapter in a book. I’d like to examine how the most recent episode of Around the World, set in the western United States, handled the issue and why it largely, in my opinion, did not succeed.

Believability in Introduced Characters

New characters come into a travel story on a regular basis and it’s important to distinguish them quickly and effectively. This way their story is compelling to the audience.

In this episode the primary new characters were a United States Marshal and his prisoner. They joined the group when the marshal flagged down our heroes’ stagecoach and demanded to ride along. We quickly learned the prisoner was a racist from the south and veteran of the Civil War.

The marshal was a one-dimensional caricature at best; frankly I’d like call him a quarter-dimensional or worse. He lacked even the most basic, white-hat wearing, cartoon hero’s credibility. The villain was no better. They both appeared to be on the show simply to have a good guy and a bad guy. I believed neither as a fully formed person.

Because I wasn’t interested in the new characters, their story did not engage me in any way. It’s important to like the hero and dislike the villain, sure, but if I find neither interesting or realistic, it doesn’t work. I can’t hate or like either one.

Intermeshing Goals

The new characters need to interact with the main characters in a way that advances their arc. That is to say, introduced characters must mesh meaningfully with the established characters in a travel story. It’s not easy to mingle a new story with the main plot and, unfortunately, I thought Around the World failed miserably in this case.

Around the World attempted to have the villainous new character appeal to the base, racist nature perceived in the main character. It didn’t really work for me because Fogg never seemed racist at any point of the story, classist certainly, but not racist. If the appeal focused on the inappropriate relationship of a servant and a well-to-do young woman, I might have found it interesting but that wasn’t the point of the story at all.

Meanwhile the marshal and Passepartout were meant to interact as black men in a racist white world. Again, it seemed ineffective to me. Passepartout didn’t have reason to see the entire world as racist, only that miserable caricature of a villain. I never saw a bond or growth in any of the main characters throughout the episode.

The Conflict

The conflict in the story was a little better although so contrived and ridiculous I didn’t find myself concerned about the outcome. A shootout at the saloon with the bad guys is a staple of westerns and I see what the writers were trying to do. It never came across emotionally to me because the villains and hero never seemed real.

The ending with Fogg and the villain was so contrived it had no impact on me whatsoever. I get the idea. Fogg gaining his courage, but it just did not work for me at all. The villain’s monolog and surrender stirred no emotions.

Playing for Laughs

I must take a moment to talk about the insertion of humor into tense situations. It’s the fourth or fifth time Around the World played a dramatic fight or chase scene for laughs. When Fix flashes the peace sign with a goofy grin and Passepartout goes into his impromptu speech, it seemed to me an attempt at humor and ill-timed to say the least. I’m not sure what’s up with all of that but it’s not working for me.

Conclusion

Another poor episode in my opinion. I don’t think the main characters gained any insight or moved forward. It seemed like a simple attempt to say racism bad. Yeah, well, ok. Count me in on that. Racism is bad, I’m with you. Now, tell a convincing travel story where it emotionally impacts me, not this mess.

Tom Liberman

Finding Good in The Gilded Age

The Gilded Age

Instead of talking about what didn’t work in this week’s episode of the Gilded Age, I will focus on the parts that did. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be all smiles and sour candy. I do love me some sour candy but that’s neither here nor there. Now, I reserve the right to contrast the parts that work well with those do not.

This is the third episode of The Gilded Age and I think I’ve got a pretty good feel for the show. It’s not great, frankly it’s not very good, but it has moments. My reviews of Episode One and Episode Two cover lots of things I think didn’t work. So, if you’re looking for witty and critical thoughts, check out those reviews.

Competing Stories

There are an absolute ton of stories going on in the Gilded Age. We go from one unrelated scene to the next with dizzying speed and it’s all I can do to keep up. Really the only thing that makes a difference is the acting. The storylines all meld together and I really don’t care about one more than the other except where the actor makes a difference.

The Best Storyline in the Gilded Age

The most compelling story in the show is likely the least important. Competing story lines include George taking on City Hall, Marion’s love life, Ada’s unexpected suitor, and Peggy’s short stories among many others. Yet, the one that grabs me, the one for which I eagerly await the next scene is Jack’s pursuit of Bridget. Why? Because Ben Ahlers is killing it as Jack.

Ahlers is the only actor who seems capable of ignoring the direction and dialect coaching that plagues this show. Every moment on screen his youthful exuberance and joyful expressions shine through like a beacon on a dark and stormy night. Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating a little but his performance is so vivid and full of life compared to everyone else that it absolutely pops.

Taylor Richardson as Bridget falls into the middle ground. Sometimes she’s bright and enthusiastic like Ahlers but then you can almost see the director come into the room. Less emotion! Less expression! Less tone! Read the lines, don’t say them!

Young Jack gives us more in a single glance at Bridget while attending the Theater Optique then most of the rest of the cast do in the entire series so far. I’m interested because Jack is interesting.

The Second-Best Story

The next most interesting story involves the trials of Gladys Russell. Taissa Farmiga plays her with a wide-eyed innocence that comes across well. As with Richardon’s portrayal of Bridget, at times Farmiga falls prey to wooden block school of acting apparently encouraged on the set of the Gilded Age. That being said, she is often quite endearing and sweet and I am rooting for her eventual coming out party.

It’s clear now said party, with a full Russell ballroom, is being setup as the denouement to season one. That’s a good thing because it means we’ll see more of Farmiga. Sadly, I suspect the ball will be more about Bertha than Gladys. Still, it’s something.

Small Guest Role

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the literary agent’s scene with Peggy at the newspaper. He was extremely effective in portraying the economic impact of institutionalized racism. It was clear he was not a racist himself but also did not possess enough courage to risk his business to fight those who are so.

It was a nuanced performance and I thought the actor handled it perfectly.

Conclusion

I’m afraid that’s about it. No one else is very good and none of the stories are all that interesting because of it. Sure, potentially they could be fascinating studies of the Gilded Age and the people who lived it. Sadly, I’m just not feeling it.

Tom Liberman

Why isn’t Hugh the Villain in All Creatures Great and Small?

All Creatures Great and Small

The latest episode of All Creatures Great and Small featured the return of Hugh. It afforded the writers an opportunity to present a clear villain to contrast with heroic James. They didn’t do so. Perhaps they had a couple of shots where Hugh smiled at the misfortune of James but that’s as far as it went.

Today I want to examine why Hugh is portrayed in this manner and what I think about that choice. It’s an interesting concept because most shows tend to break down the world into simple choices. Good guy versus bad guy. All Creatures Great and Small chose not to go that route.

Who is Hugh?

Hugh was the romantic interest and rival for Helen’s affection from the first season of All Creatures Great and Small. The two were engaged with their marriage marking the season finale. Helen, for various reasons including her affection for James, calls off the marriage at the last moment leaving Hugh at the altar.

The Reappearance of Hugh

Hugh is absent from season two up until now, although he is mentioned several times. This episode starts with James going to Hugh’s estate to ring a young bull. Hugh seems to smile at James’s misfortune with the bull and that leads the audience to believe Hugh is going to play the villain.

It turns out Hugh had the nose ring inserted because he planned to give it bull to Helen’s family as gift in replacement for a bull purchase that fell through as part of an episode in the previous season. He also puts Helen’s name on the farm deed as part of the renewal. Here is where we see Hugh not behaving in a villainous fashion. We learn he’s actually a decent fellow.

The central plot point of the episode is the cricket match between the landed gentry of the region and the local farmers. Hugh is the star bowler for one team while James is a late entry for the local side, although he lacks much experience with the game.

The Big Match

During the match, Hugh has a heartfelt talk with Helen where he admits his own trepidation about their relationship and shows no hard feelings.

In the big match Hugh faces James with the entire game at stake. James allows Hugh to win and rationalizes later to Helen that he felt he owed Hugh a win. Hugh then shakes James’s hand and offers him congratulations for a good game.

Why is Hugh Generous?

This question is the main focus of my blog. Why not make Hugh a monster? He has every right to be angry at James over Helen. Why not have him seek revenge? He might fail to renew the lease. He could purposely hit James with the cricket ball. He can make snide and nasty remarks at James’s expense. He doesn’t, but why?

Certainly, in a lot of other shows, that’s exactly the way they’d portray Hugh. A villain for the sake of comparing him to the hero. How are we to know James is a good guy if we don’t have a bad guy for the sake of comparison?

It’s my opinion the reason Hugh is a good egg is because that’s more realistic. It trusts the audience to understand that sometimes life happens. Just because James is a fine fellow doesn’t mean his romantic rival must be evil. It makes us view Hugh as a human being, not as a caricature of one. It’s nuanced and it’s interesting.

I like it

I think it’s probably pretty easy to guess my opinion on the portrayal of Hugh in All Creatures Great and Small. I think it’s great the writers are willing to trust my judgment. They don’t need to turn the world into tropes and boring cliches.

I don’t need Hugh to be bad to understand James is good. I don’t need James and Helen to be good all the time either. If anyone is a bit petty and angry in this episode, it’s James.

Well done, well done indeed.

Tom Liberman

Around the World in 80 days on an Island

Around the world in 80 Days

I’ve been complaining about Around the World in 80 Days since the start but I’m happy to report I mostly enjoyed this week’s episode. I’m not saying it’s the finest piece of television ever produced but it generally hit the mark despite some enormous plot holes.

Around the World in 80 Days never lacked from actors with talent but the story failed in so many ways we didn’t really get to see them action until this episode. Here we see Fix, Fogg, and Passepartout largely stuck on an island which allows us to learn about them. This is the sort of information that gives an audience reason to care about the characters.

That being said, the episode still has problems. Enough prelude, on with the review.

Stuck on an Island

The main plot structure allows us to learn more about the characters as they are stuck on an island after being forced off the luxury liner. I initially found myself extremely put off by the opening but I’m willing to forgive. The obvious question is; how did they get there?

Apparently, the gun-toting villain rounded up the characters, had them lower the lifeboat into the heavy seas, climb aboard, and launch. All without the crew or other passengers intervening. This is obviously ludicrous and certainly why it wasn’t shown. It makes no sense. But, let’s get past that and discuss character development once our heroes wash ashore on a deserted island.

We learn a great deal about Fogg and his lost love. I’m saddened this information did not find its way into the story until so late in the series. It’s the kind of thing that invests an audience into rooting for a character, to care what happens. Now, Fogg’s story is so pathetic, so weak, that I find him somewhat distasteful rather than heroic but it’s something at least. For the first time I feel for Fogg. I care.

We also get background information into about the friendship between Fogg and the others at the Reform Club after Passepartout correctly surmises who is trying to prevent them from accomplishing the goal. Again, this is really useful information and makes us like the characters. We understand the dynamics between the Fogg and his friends for the first time. This information should have come earlier but we finally get there.

Coming Clean

We also get apologies from all parties. Fogg admits his own failings. Passepartout comes clean about drugging Fogg and Fix admits revealing Fogg’s lost love was not proper. This is real character bonding. We start to actually like the heroes. Again, it took six episodes but we’re here at last.

My next opinion is nitpicky but it bothers me enough that I find myself compelled to mention it. The old British Stiff Upper Lip. Fogg as portrayed by David Tennant is over the top. He screams, yells, and waves his arms all the time. His histrionic banishing of Passepartout just didn’t work for me. I want a cold heat; a burning intensity being suppressed in order to act like a gentleman. I want Fogg to tell off Passepartout with cold, calculating words while heat burns underneath. It came across to me as improper and wrong.

Wrapping Up Around the World in 80 Days

The episode wraps up with all the characters displaying noble traits, working together, sacrificing, and coming through with a triumph. It’s all a little too convenient but it largely works. I’m actually on board with Fix, Fogg, and Passepartout for the first time in the series.

Conclusion

It’s probably too late. I never built up enough emotion for Around the World in 80 Days but at least we finally got some interesting character development and story structure. Having them stuck on the island without competing main plots helped us get here.

The best episode of the series so far. It’s a shame it took so long to get here.

Tom Liberman

The Gilded Age without a Central Support

The Gilded Age

Episode Two of the Gilded Age came and went with a number of the same problems as the premier and new ones to add to my distress. I assure you, dear readers, I want to love this show. I love the time-period portrayed and the many ideas it might explore but it is, so far, failing to rise to the occasion.

This episode carried over the wooden acting from the first episode and failed utterly to focus on a main story. If you read my reviews of Around the World in 80 Days, you’ll remember my complaint about competing main plots. It’s the same here.

Too much was left to happen off-screen as well. We need to see the important things, not be told about them. In any case, on with the review.

No Central Support

This episode had no structure. It was just a series of scenes swirling with a dozen different plot lines. It needed central support. One theme to rule them all, one theme to find them, one theme to bring them all and in the darkness bind them. The interesting part, at least for me, is that there is a central theme to work around. The charity event could easily be the structure upon which the entire episode is based.

The charity event is the subject of the denouement when George defends his wife’s feelings by shutting it down with an ostentatious display of wealth. My problem is that the episode didn’t use the event as a central support by which to drive a compelling plot.

What we Didn’t See

A number of important events happened off screen and we only learned about them via exposition from various characters. This is particularly appalling when you take into account the shortness of the episode at forty-five minutes. Show instead of tell but with time to spare, nope.

The biggest omissions involved the charitable gathering. The coincidence of the event having to switch venues is critical to the entire plot but it’s not explained in any way at all. It just happens. Why not have Bertha or George engineer the conflict? That’s interesting.

Then have a scene involving the picking of a new venue instead of a couple of lines of exposition where the organizers blame each other. We don’t know what is true and what is fabrication. It leaves the audience out of show entirely and it’s extremely frustrating from a viewing perspective.

If we see this, then the scene where Bertha throws her tray becomes significantly more impactful. The next thing we didn’t see is George consoling Bertha and making his grand plan to ruin the event. I want to see George’s love for Bertha, his rage at the snub. Not just the cold finale. I want to see the events that led up to it.

Of less concern is why didn’t we see Mrs. Bauer’s proclivity for gambling at some point? Even a simple background scene where she’s playing cards for money or tossing dice with the handsome young footman. And why didn’t the debt collector want silver candlesticks? They are valuable.

Also perhaps worth noting is Oscar’s eagerness to meet with Gladys. If we are to believe he’s a gold digger then we need to see more of it. It comes across as flat and unreal.

Wooden Acting

The acting continues to be largely, but certainly not completely, atrocious. The on-screen chemistry between Marian and Raikes is only rivalled by the intensity of Anakin and Padmé. You could actually put out of a fire with the sparks that fly between them.

It’s quite interesting to watch because certain actors are good for a few lines but then you can almost see them forcing dialect and becoming stilted and monotone. Oscar is believable and relatable and then utterly monotone and boring all within the same scene. It’s inexplicable.

Mystery for the Sake of Mystery

I also want to take a moment to discuss the plot line involving Mrs. Chamberlain. It’s clear she’s an important figure and her desire to becomes friends with Marian is interesting but totally unexplained. It seems the writers want to keep the viewers out of the loop so they can spring some surprise on us. It’s not a good way to write.

I’m not suggesting the writers need to tell us everything but we need important information. In a mystery you don’t give away the murderer but you also don’t hide the fact that the murderer has a twin sister until the final reveal. You must trust the audience. Give us something. Don’t treat us like idiots.

Conclusion

I’m going to continue watching The Gilded Age because there are a few excellent performances and the time period is fascinating. They need to get cracking though. I’m quickly getting bored.

Tom Liberman

A Dog too Far in All Creatures Great and Small

All Creatures Great and Small

Another week of excellent entertainment from All Creatures Great and Small was marred by a pair of imperfect plot lines. It’s saying a great deal about how much I like the show that the only things I can find to complain about are pretty nitpicky.

In this week’s wonderful episode there is a sick dog that plays only a minor, largely unimportant role, in the conflict and plot. And a missing limp. That’s it, those are my complaints. The problem here is that I’m running out of good things to say about the show. I enjoy it tremendously but I can’t keep writing that week after week.

So, it’s to the dogs!

The Episode of All Creatures Great and Small

We start the episode with Tristan being entrusted to take the lead on his own calls. It’s a big step for him although it’s clear Siegfried, Mrs. Hall, and James all have lingering doubts. In any case, off go Tristan and James to attend to business.

Meanwhile, Siegfried stays back to perform an operation on a dog. The operation is a success, Mrs. Hall lays a blanket by the space heater, the dog is dropped off. The dog whines but Siegfried assures us, that is to say, Mrs. Hall, that the dog is fine and whining is a normal under the circumstances.

In any case, the episode continues. Tristan is filing down the teeth of race horses and is somewhat intimidated by their spirit. He’s kicked in the knee by one of the animals but soldiers through the pain. He spots the daughter of the owner and later maneuvers a date with her for his birthday party.

James continues to struggle with telling Helen about his job offer. Eventually the various plot lines come to a head at the party. Helen already knows about the job offer but she and James have a heartfelt moment to smooth over hurt feelings.

Meanwhile, Siegfried, annoyed by Tristan’s acting performance during the day’s rounds and the whining of the dog reveals that the young man failed his exams. Tristan is crushed. The situation is not resolved but Tristan enjoys some sort of revenge by nicking some of his brother’s good whiskey. I approve, Tristan, I approve.

My Nitpicks

I have two very nitpicky problems with this otherwise excellent episode. I’m honestly more worried about the dog and the damn space heater than I am about Tristan on his own. That’s a problem. Spoiler, there’s nothing wrong with the dog. Siegfried is perfectly correct and the dog is fine despite all the whining and fussing he’ll be doing for the next hour.

It’s entirely possible the writers want us to be worried about the dog only as a way to show that Siegfried, for all his bluster, is an excellent veterinarian. I think that’s a reasonable explanation but it doesn’t solve the issue. I spent almost the entire episode worrying about that dog! Is it going to get burned by the space heater? Was the operation a failure? Is it going to die? Why is whining? Is it going to live? I’m distracted from the main plot.

My other nitpick is even more nitpicky. Why isn’t Tristan hobbling around for the rest of the episode? That horse kicked him right good. I want limps!

Conclusion

The episode illustrates why this show works so well. They continued with the main plot lines built previously while creating episodic conflict. It’s interesting to watch. I’m always eager to find out what will happen next.

A wonderful little sequence occurred at the dinner party when Tristan’s date noted Helen and James sitting next to one another. The date is a good friend of Hugh, who Helen left at the altar. She gets a little snippy with Helen who defends herself but also admits she waited too long to end things and accepts responsibility for the hurt and embarrassment Hugh suffered.

The date apologizes for being snippy and Helen accepts. It’s a scene showing we don’t need Hugh to be a villain and Helen to be a hero in all things. Life is complicated and there isn’t always a good answer. This small scene makes me believe the characters are real people in real situations. That’s the goal in a fictional show, to invest the audience in the lives of the characters.

Well done, despite my nitpicks.

Tom Liberman

Around the World with 80 Coincidentally Helpful Things

Around the world in 80 Days

This week’s episode of Around the World in 80 Days filled me with incredulity from beginning to end. To eliminate suspense immediately, it was not the good kind of incredulity. Almost everything in this episode revolved around either a remarkable coincidence or illogical behavior.

The episode also lacked a clear central theme to anchor the various plot lines. It bounced from one plot to the next and I found none of them particularly compelling. All in all, I’d say this was probably the worst episode of the series so far.

I’m saddened by this episode because it held tremendous potential. All of the competing plot lines had the possibility to be compelling stories on their own but none of them grabbed me. But, enough prelude, onto the review.

Competing Main Plots

A plot in this episode of Around the World revolves around Fogg and his companion’s inability to access money after arriving in Hong Kong. Exciting, huh? Not really and particularly egregious because the other plots are much better.

There is the governor and his wife and her yearning for romance. This is something meaty to grab the heart. Then we delve into vile colonial looting of native relics. That’s something well-worth exploring in detail. Fix’s article exposes Fogg’s lost love and this causes him great embarrassment. That’s drama and character arc for both Fogg and Fix. Good stuff. Lastly is Passepartout’s previous life as a criminal which gets short-shrift indeed.

The problem here is the five ideas are competing for screen time with one another and all of them get a cursory, at best, examination. The episode of Around the World in 80 Days failed to focus on one of its compelling ideas and thus all failed.

Coincidence upon Coincidence

My bigger criticism of this episode is the series of unlikely events that drive the plot. Each one on its own takes me out of immersion as I shake my head, but the endless line of inexplicable actions left me downright peeved.

Once Fogg cannot access his money, we suddenly learn Passepartout speaks Cantonese and is an old acquaintance of high-ranking member of a Chinese Tong. This strains the incredulity because it was not mentioned, nor even hinted at in previous episodes.

Passepartout visits his old friend leaving Fix outside to eat a bowl of soup with chopsticks. I know it’s nitpicky but, seriously, I’ve eaten at Chinese restaurants. They give you one of those flat-bottomed spoons. Frankly, it’s insulting to the Chinese culture.

Fix is trying to eat soup with the chopsticks, comic relief I guess, and the Tong leader asks Passepartout to steal a relic looted by the colonial English. The Tong leader claims he cannot steal it as no Chinese are allowed in the governor’s compound. Only the former thief can do it. It is just so, so unlikely.

Passepartout refuses emphatically as he is not a thief anymore. After the refusal his old friend is apparently ready to kill him but Fix barges in for reasons that are unclear. As writer guy at Pitch Meeting might say when questioned by her appearance, “She barges in because it’s in the script. I wrote it. It’s right here.”

Next our heroes find themselves at the governor’s estate for a party held by the romantically challenged Englishman and his romantically starved wife. In it, Chinese natives act as servants and are seen everywhere. Hmm.

In a stunning coincidence, the governor’s wife brings out the stolen relic and asks Fogg to place around her neck for reasons that are unclear. Passepartout tries to get the governor drunk for reasons that are unclear.

Fogg asks for money and doesn’t get it because it’s important to drive the plot forward. Passepartout, unwilling to steal for money a moment ago, now takes it upon himself to steal the relic. Why? Because it’s in the script, that’s why. The governor’s wife wears the necklace to bed. Ok, whatever, I’ve given up trying to assign rationality to anything that happens.

Passepartout steals the necklace whilst showing off bad-ass ninja skills. Is there anything this man can’t do to forward the plot?

Sometime around midmorning the governor’s wife realizes the necklace isn’t around her neck anymore despite going to bed with it. Immediately it’s decided Fogg stole it because the police find money, in the first place they look, at his quarters.

Cultural Looting is fine when it’s for Love

The governor stole the Chinese relic from the grave because he loves his wife. His wife is romantically fulfilled. Passepartout confesses. I don’t know, I gave up a while ago, I’m not paying a great deal of attention. The governor pardons everyone. There’s a race to stop Fogg from getting flogged. Despite everyone yelling to stop, at precisely noon the first strike is delivered but further punishment is withheld. Yay.

The End

With funds restored our intrepid band boards a liner where Fogg is waylaid by the gun wielding villain. How will he get out of this mess? Maybe Passepartout is actually a time traveler and has a teleportation ray gun. Who knows, who cares?

Tom Liberman

The Gilded Age a Season in an Episode

The Gilded Age

The Gilded Age on HBO premiered this week and, as a history buff, I tuned in with eager anticipation. The Gilded age refers to an incredibly interesting time in the history of the United States as the country transitioned to industrialization.

New money families arose and began to challenge the established wealth that dated back to colonial times. Many of the great family names still around today, Westinghouse, Carnegie, Rockefeller, Roosevelt, Morgan, Guggenheim, Vanderbilt, and more ascended at this time. The time frame gives us a huge historical reality to play with and so many plots to explore.

I eagerly anticipated watching the first episode. I was somewhat disappointed for reasons I’ll detail below but I think the show has a lot of promise. On with the review!

The Gilded Age Plot

The major storyline of The Gilded Age is the conflict between new money and old in the New York social and business world. The Russell family is new money and George is the classic robber baron of the railroad industry. His wife, Bertha, tries desperately to find a place in New York with the established families.

In contrast are the van Rhijn ladies who represent old and snobby money. They want nothing to do with the Bertha and her social plans. The conflict between Bertha and Agnes van Rhijn is the driving force of the story although the younger generation has a role to play as well.

Too Much too Fast

The speed at which the plot developed in the opening episode left my head spinning. We met character after character in a dizzying array of scenes that left me without attachment to any of them. It’s a real shame because several of the characters have an enormous potential to feed future plots.

Peggy Scott as a young writer of ambition. Larry Russel as the son of the George and Bertha, a spirited young fellow eager to be in the world. Gladys Russel as the shy and sweet daughter of new money. Several of the servants in both houses including the scheming Turner and the wise Watson piqued my interest.

I don’t mention Marian Brooks, the niece of Agnes, because the young girl is incredibly boring; but I will deal with that later.

A Whole Season of Potential Gone in One Episode

Sadly, a huge amount of potential was lost as we sprinted through an opening episode that I argue might have been an entire season. The failed party hosted by Bertha served as the climax of the episode. To my mind this should have been the denouement to the entire season.

The premier episode might center around young Marian Brook and the difficult financial state brought on by her father’s reckless spending. The relationship between her and the lawyer, her father’s estrangement from his sisters. Then we might switch to Peggy and her family troubles. The incident that caused her to separate from her father. We might end with the two meeting at the rail station.

The second episode might center on finishing up the magnificent Russel home. Focusing on the two children and Bertha’s ambitions. Spending some time getting to know George and his financial success, how it happened, the old life they are leaving an attempt to reach the upper crust of society. We might meet some of their old friends and finish with the family moving into the new house.

In any case, I’m not going to outline an entire season here but it’s clear to me they rushed things far too fast and left many juicy plots behind in their eagerness to get to the failed party. I feel like I missed out on an entire season of the Gilded Age because of the incessant rush.

The Acting

The acting is stiff and wooden to a level that I can only attribute to the director. It’s as if the actors, many quality performers, are looking over their shoulder to make sure the nun isn’t going to smack them with a ruler because they showed the slightest bit of emotion.

I’m guessing this is designed to display the ultra-formal speech used back in those days. Maybe I’m reading too much into it and it’s just bad acting but I don’t think so. Poor Louisa Jacobson, who portrays Marian and is the center of the story, is like a wooden block. She looks terrified she might make a mistake in every scene. She is not alone though.

Almost everyone is wooden including Carrie Coon as Bertha. Bertha and Marian are the main characters of the story! Even Cynthia Nixon and Christine Baranski, established and quality actors, as the van Rhijn aunts, appear almost frightened to actually perform.

I must take a moment to praise Audra McDonald and Donna Murphy as Dorothy Scott and Mrs. Astor. The two brought real emotion and life to the otherwise dull character interactions. Blake Riston as Oscar van Rhijn was also quite good although his arc seemed fit for a season long storyline rather than something to be quickly revealed in the first episode.

Conclusion

I’m not completely disappointed with The Gilded Age. It had a few good moments and I think if the actors are allowed to act and the pace of the story slows, there’s a good chance it might become an excellent series.

The first episode is disappointing.

Tom Liberman

Opening Sequence Analysis All Creatures versus Around the World

Opening Sequence

Sunday night television on PBS here in St. Louis offers Around the World in 80 Days followed by All Creatures Great and Small. It’s been a great opportunity for me to give my opinions on the two shows. I’ve done so over the last couple of weeks.

Today I’m going to narrow my focus down a little and simple compare the opening sequences of both shows. What works? What doesn’t work? Why does it work? Why doesn’t it work? I will attempt to refrain from being critical of other elements of both shows although I promise nothing. Anyone who’s read my other reviews is sure to know my thoughts on the merits of each of the shows.

Opening Sequence Around the World

The opening sequence of Around the World in 80 Days involves our three protagonists walking through a fly-infested region appearing somewhat lost and disheveled. They come across a young girl who leads them to a village. In the village they encounter a matriarchal figure who explains a wedding between her daughter and a young man is planned for later.

This sequence probably took about five minutes although it seemed to drag interminably.

Opening Sequence of All Creatures

The opening sequence of All Creatures Great and Small has our four protagonists walking along a road at the back of a funeral. The camera focuses on a woman, apparently the widow, her two small children, and a strapping young fellow. A farmer coming the other way tips his cap.
The scene took perhaps a minute or two and not a single word of dialog is spoken.

The Implications

The implications of the opening sequence are quite important in telling a story. The audience needs to know the focus of the episode. What is the story going to be about?

Around the World and 80 Days and All Creatures Great and Small are certainly two different kinds of stories with apparently little in common. But, if you look closely, there were similarities this week. In both shows a group of strangers drive the external conflict and plot.

In this case the implication from the opening sequence in Around the World revolved, to my mind, around the little girl and the family matriarch. The wedding didn’t seem like it was going to be that important, there was something about the girl.

In All Creatures it seemed clear to me that the widow and her children were the focus of the conflict in the coming episode.

How it Unfolded in Around the World

This is where, in my opinion, the opening sequence failed in Around the World and succeeded in All Creatures. It turns out the young girl was unimportant and even the matriarch of the family only played a smaller role. The wedding brought on the conflict as it turned out the groom deserted his unit. A young British lieutenant and his troops arrived in the middle of the wedding and dragged the groom off.

A moment to commend Charlie Hamblett for his portrayal of Lieutenant Bathurst. The only performance I found convincing. I shall not dwell, onto my focus.

The problem here is the opening sequence didn’t introduce the antagonist or even really let us know about the main conflict of the episode. It completely misdirected us to the young girl.

How it Unfolded in All Creatures

We immediately find ourselves entangled in the main plot of James helping the widow with her sick cows. The widow is desperately trying to manage the farm and her two sons with the help of a young man but it’s not easy. The cows are sick, they must be kept inside, this costs money. The local farmers think she should sell.

The opening sequence did not lie to us. It introduced us to the main characters of the story and the conflict of the sick cows is a direct result of the death of the farmer. Everything unfolded in a completely natural and organic fashion. It made sense. The story grabbed me and held me. I didn’t find myself confused.

Conclusions

This is why an opening sequence is important. It prepares the audience for what is to come. I think All Creatures succeeded in a two-minute sequence with no dialog where Around the World failed in a much longer sequence with too much dialog.

The failure and success in the first few minutes of the episodes tell us a great deal about the general quality of the writing in both shows. It’s no surprise that the entire episode of All Creatures engrossed me whereas 80 Days largely left me unsatisfied.

But, I promised I wouldn’t get into all of that, so I won’t.

Tom Liberman

All Creatures Great and Small Episode Two

All Creatures Great and Small

Ah, that’s the stuff. After a lackluster hour watching Around the World in 80 Days, we get some excellent entertainment. If you hadn’t guessed already, I enjoyed the second episode of All Creatures Great and Small as much as I liked the first.

This episode of All Creatures Great and Small expands on the main conflicts introduced in the first episode while also introducing potential romantic interests for Siegfried and Mrs. Hall. The major story arc continues to be James potentially taking a new job and Siegfried’s unwillingness to listen to James’s ideas.

Inciting Incidents

Episode two unfolds leisurely, as is the general pace of All Creatures Great and Small. The big Daffodil Day festival is around the corner and the gang all purchases tickets except Mrs. Hall who prefers to stay at home reading a book. Siegfried and Tristan leave to tend to an important customer James apparently forget the day before. Meanwhile James and Mrs. Hall are left to hold down the fort but their orderly schedule is disrupted by an emergency. Helen drops by because Tristan told her James had something to ask.

These inciting incidents largely direct the rest of the episode, as it should be. The events of the opening sequence let the audience know what to expect. This is nothing more than standard writing technique but it seems absent in most other shows I watch. Every thread introduced in the opening sequence of this episode of All Creatures Great and Small plays an important role the rest of the way.

The Incidents Lead the Plot

At surgery, Mrs. Hall redirects all the morning clients to the afternoon in order for James to tend to the wounded dog. A trap caught the dog and mangled its leg. The owner is a veteran who also has a wounded leg. He and Mrs. Hall find a connection and it quickly becomes apparent this is a romantic interest.

James saves the dog, of course, although recommends it be kept overnight to make sure infection hasn’t set in. Events unfold naturally in a way that makes sense. There is drama without piercing music telling us the situation is frightening. I found myself far more afraid for the dog than for Fogg and Passepartout an hour earlier as they stumbled through sandstorms and desert heat. Why? It all seemed real, natural, believable, part of a flowing narrative. I am immersed.

Meanwhile, Siegfried defers to an important client who threatens to move his business to another veterinarian. Then we have some comic relief with Tristan and a large sow. On the return trip Tristan makes some pointed remarks in regards to Siegfried’s timidness in regards to the client and general demeanor of not wanting to take risks in his old age. This speech drives future narratives between Siegfried and James in regards to upgrading the surgery to modern standards. In other words, it is there for a reason.

The Pay Off

All Creatures Great and Small does not disappoint. Everything setup in the opening sequence comes to bear in the last half of the episode. James and Helen dance at the festival. Siegfried stands up to the important customer. Mrs. Hall sits alone petting the wounded dog as a symbolic substitute for a romantic relationship with its owner.

We, the audience, are rewarded for paying attention to events. Things don’t come and go for no logical reason therefore it’s important we watch each moment of All Creatures Great and Small with attention. When I know something is pertinent, important, I care. I care about the characters and what happens to them, I’m invested.

Wrapping Things Up

We end with questions unanswered and further intrigue ahead while still wrapping up this episode in a satisfactory fashion. The wounded dog is fine. Helen is ready to move on. Mrs. Harris declines a polite invitation for a dog walk but we know it’s not the last of the handsome man we’ll see.

Meanwhile, James’s mother took it into her own hands to accept the position offered at the modern veterinarian clinic leaving James torn. He wants to stay here but he feels an obligation to his parents who paid his way through school.

Siegfried makes of point of telling James that suggestions for improving the surgery are welcome although we’re not completely sure if we believe the stern owner.

Conclusion

Another excellent episode of All Creatures Great and Small. The writers, actors, set designers, and all the rest clearly pay attention to details. Simple things are not taken for granted. Near the end of the episode an old client comes in who reminds us of how James and Helen spent the night attending a pregnant doggo. It’s the same dog or at least one that looks the same.

It’s a real pleasure watching this show and I eagerly await next week’s episode.

Tom Liberman