Seen for the first time in June 2013.
So I've begun to think lately that working my way through older movies has begun to hit a point of vastly diminished returns. Something like "The Big Sleep" is an amazing movie and a great experience and if you see it as a young man, it will have a great impact on you and you'll want to try to recreate that experience. And if it's presented to you as a film noir, you maybe somehow get the idea in your head that since this is representative of film noir, that all film noirs are this good. And so you go through your life watching film noirs and some are really great as well, but you never see another film noir as good as "The Big Sleep." And you never will. Because "The Big Sleep" is the best film noir ever made, and so of course if you want to recommend a film noir to someone to watch to get them into the genre, it's going to be "The Big Sleep," or maybe "Double Indemnity," or whatever or a handful of the second tier greats like "Scarlet Street."
But anyway, you go down this film noir path, watching movie after movie, some better than others, none ever as good as the one that got you into it, and you wake up one day 15 years later after watching a movie like "T-Men" and you wonder if continuing down this avenue is really worth it anymore. You've seen the top tier greats and the second tier greats and now every new classic noir you see is run-of-the-mill tedium. They have all the difficulties of old movies, but none of the transcendence that makes a movie well known sixty years after it appeared. You begin to confess to yourself the shameful thought that you now understand why so many of your peers have such difficulty watching older movies.
A movie like "T-Men" beats you down. It makes you want to give up. It's hokiness, tediously told, dated, and stilted. There's no energy. It's completely lethargic and generic. It should've been a tv movie. But you have to tell yourself not to give in. Not just yet. There are undiscovered diamonds still. But there is a lesson to be learned about the selection process that will help you be more judicious in the future, that will help you learn to avoid duds like "T-Men." We just have to apply that lesson. But also, maybe it would be more rewarding to re-screen past gems at this point than it is to constantly search for new fare.
Grade D.
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Slaughterhouse Five - Kurt Vonnegut
Read for the second time in June 2013.
I read "Slaughterhouse Five" for the first time some ten or fifteen years ago and upon re-reading remembered almost none of it save for the fact that I remembered the concept of Tralfamadorian's seeing in four dimensions in one of Vonnegut's novels. And upon rereading I remembered the part where Vonnegut becomes friend's with his war buddy's wife over their shared disdain for war and over the idea that Vonegut would not glorify war.
Upon rereading, I can understand why I don't remember this. I understand that this is his most noted work, but it feels insignificant to me and I didn't really enjoy reading it. I feel like this is where Vonnegut can be dismissed as Ayn Rand for liberals.
I didn't have this strong of a negative reaction the first time I read it, though I never would've counted it as among my favorite Vonnegut's. I never recommended it to anyone (unlike Cat's Cradle which I long considered my favorite), but I didn't have a negative memory of it either. I just counted it as among the 10 or so Vonnegut's I had read that I really enjoyed.
But the first time I read it, I was younger, and it was during the days of peace and prosperity. Probably during the late Clinton administration or the early W years, pre 9/11. I want to talk about this as much as possible in a way where my own politics are beside the point. Let's just say that in that earlier environment, I was not only unexposed but war was maybe more abstract. Being pro-war or anti-war was neither here nor there. I think the culture had even decided to stop arguing about Vietnam more or less.
And so here I was at this point in time, where I was young and relatively unexposed, and being anti-war or being pro-war or however you want to phrase it was not really a thing. Cultural artifacts that took an opinion on war did not really exist back then. There was no way for their forms and opinions to have solidified into something to be tired of.
And then of course there was 9/11 and the Iraq War and my young adulthood as secular big city hipster type. And you know by 2004, the ironic jokes of "blah blah blah are the real terrorists," or "if you let blank happen, the terrorists will win" went from funny parody to groan-inducing hackdom. And there's been so much goddamned John Stewart and his knock offs in the intervening years and so much joking and commentary about all this whether you agree with it or not, it just all became tired and too much. Whether it's shrill sarcasm and outrage masquerading as humor or it's just run through some kind of abstract machine to where it's silly. Being serious about war in a funny way or not is just something that I don't have patience for in art right now.
Like at one time John Stewart felt like such a breath of fresh air compared what else was on television. And now if I turn him on I really only get that sense of smug, knowing, speaking to the converted, self-conscious wink of sarcasm and I'm tired of it. I've drowned in it over the last decade.
That's an explanation. I mean Vonnegut is such a precursor to this tone we all took for a while, and maybe he doesn't deserve to be rated negatively for it. But I also think he published this in 1968. And I think it would have been a lot braver to publish it in 1965 right? Like I think about that and I think what a safe move. And I know that's sort of crazy. It's always right to take the right stand. And who is anyone to judge anyone, especially me. Nonetheless, all together and at the end of the day, "Slaughterhouse Five," unlike "Siren's of Titan" or "Jailbird" or "Breakfast of Champions," feels a little like "Atlas Shrugged" for liberals. And that probably explains as well why it's his most poplar.
I read "Slaughterhouse Five" for the first time some ten or fifteen years ago and upon re-reading remembered almost none of it save for the fact that I remembered the concept of Tralfamadorian's seeing in four dimensions in one of Vonnegut's novels. And upon rereading I remembered the part where Vonnegut becomes friend's with his war buddy's wife over their shared disdain for war and over the idea that Vonegut would not glorify war.
Upon rereading, I can understand why I don't remember this. I understand that this is his most noted work, but it feels insignificant to me and I didn't really enjoy reading it. I feel like this is where Vonnegut can be dismissed as Ayn Rand for liberals.
I didn't have this strong of a negative reaction the first time I read it, though I never would've counted it as among my favorite Vonnegut's. I never recommended it to anyone (unlike Cat's Cradle which I long considered my favorite), but I didn't have a negative memory of it either. I just counted it as among the 10 or so Vonnegut's I had read that I really enjoyed.
But the first time I read it, I was younger, and it was during the days of peace and prosperity. Probably during the late Clinton administration or the early W years, pre 9/11. I want to talk about this as much as possible in a way where my own politics are beside the point. Let's just say that in that earlier environment, I was not only unexposed but war was maybe more abstract. Being pro-war or anti-war was neither here nor there. I think the culture had even decided to stop arguing about Vietnam more or less.
And so here I was at this point in time, where I was young and relatively unexposed, and being anti-war or being pro-war or however you want to phrase it was not really a thing. Cultural artifacts that took an opinion on war did not really exist back then. There was no way for their forms and opinions to have solidified into something to be tired of.
And then of course there was 9/11 and the Iraq War and my young adulthood as secular big city hipster type. And you know by 2004, the ironic jokes of "blah blah blah are the real terrorists," or "if you let blank happen, the terrorists will win" went from funny parody to groan-inducing hackdom. And there's been so much goddamned John Stewart and his knock offs in the intervening years and so much joking and commentary about all this whether you agree with it or not, it just all became tired and too much. Whether it's shrill sarcasm and outrage masquerading as humor or it's just run through some kind of abstract machine to where it's silly. Being serious about war in a funny way or not is just something that I don't have patience for in art right now.
Like at one time John Stewart felt like such a breath of fresh air compared what else was on television. And now if I turn him on I really only get that sense of smug, knowing, speaking to the converted, self-conscious wink of sarcasm and I'm tired of it. I've drowned in it over the last decade.
That's an explanation. I mean Vonnegut is such a precursor to this tone we all took for a while, and maybe he doesn't deserve to be rated negatively for it. But I also think he published this in 1968. And I think it would have been a lot braver to publish it in 1965 right? Like I think about that and I think what a safe move. And I know that's sort of crazy. It's always right to take the right stand. And who is anyone to judge anyone, especially me. Nonetheless, all together and at the end of the day, "Slaughterhouse Five," unlike "Siren's of Titan" or "Jailbird" or "Breakfast of Champions," feels a little like "Atlas Shrugged" for liberals. And that probably explains as well why it's his most poplar.
Hamlet 2
Seen for the first time in June 2013.
"Hamlet 2" is a likable and lightly entertaining movie. It's funny. The production at the end makes me squirm with embarrassment a little bit. Enough that I couldn't recommend that another person watch it. I don't know why, but I feel like admitting that makes me susceptible to accusations of homophobia. It is pretty funny for most of the movie however. And if you like glee and are really into theater and "funny," "modern," "cute," and "safely offensive" musical numbers then you might really dig this film.
To unpack that last line a little bit, particularly the "safely offensive" part. I just feel like a musical number like "the rock me sexy Jesus" from this film is supposed to appear somehow transgressive in like this really self conscious but also silly and playfully cute way, but it's really just kind of smug to me. I guess the briefest way to describe it would be to say it has a playfully transgressive sensibility that doesn't at all read as transgressive anymore, but as gay. It's fine. It's just not at all my sensibility. It makes me cringe a little bit to be honest. Like it would be embarrassing if anyone thought I thought that number was funny or good in any way.
I guess there's an analog to John Waters at his worst. Like when John Waters is at his best, he's transgressive and fun and it's exhilarating. But sometimes he just gestures weakly at transgression while a very gay, very self-aware sense of humor fills the vaccuum, and this is John Waters at his worst (see "A Dirty Shame"). This movie at it's worst is like John Waters at his most mainstream worst.
At it's best, it's a really funny, under-the-radar, out-of-nowhere comedy marred only by the occasionally corny or contrived set-piece. I think we mostly enjoy watching Coogan's character's struggles. It's occasionally hilarious, never tedious, and only briefly cringeworthy.
Grade B+.
"Hamlet 2" is a likable and lightly entertaining movie. It's funny. The production at the end makes me squirm with embarrassment a little bit. Enough that I couldn't recommend that another person watch it. I don't know why, but I feel like admitting that makes me susceptible to accusations of homophobia. It is pretty funny for most of the movie however. And if you like glee and are really into theater and "funny," "modern," "cute," and "safely offensive" musical numbers then you might really dig this film.
To unpack that last line a little bit, particularly the "safely offensive" part. I just feel like a musical number like "the rock me sexy Jesus" from this film is supposed to appear somehow transgressive in like this really self conscious but also silly and playfully cute way, but it's really just kind of smug to me. I guess the briefest way to describe it would be to say it has a playfully transgressive sensibility that doesn't at all read as transgressive anymore, but as gay. It's fine. It's just not at all my sensibility. It makes me cringe a little bit to be honest. Like it would be embarrassing if anyone thought I thought that number was funny or good in any way.
I guess there's an analog to John Waters at his worst. Like when John Waters is at his best, he's transgressive and fun and it's exhilarating. But sometimes he just gestures weakly at transgression while a very gay, very self-aware sense of humor fills the vaccuum, and this is John Waters at his worst (see "A Dirty Shame"). This movie at it's worst is like John Waters at his most mainstream worst.
At it's best, it's a really funny, under-the-radar, out-of-nowhere comedy marred only by the occasionally corny or contrived set-piece. I think we mostly enjoy watching Coogan's character's struggles. It's occasionally hilarious, never tedious, and only briefly cringeworthy.
Grade B+.
The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) - Alfred Hitchcock
Seen for the first time in June 2013.
I didn't actually successfully watch this film. I tried to out of curiosity despite my historical failings with Hitchcock's early British films, partially because, lol, someone on the internet said it was better than his 50's remake and because I like Peter Lorre. I'm not a fan of the 50's remake almost solely because of Doris Day singing "que sera sera" which is such a terrible thing in my mind that it clouds my judgement for the rest of the movie for reasons I'm not even sure of. I've never let this sort of thing corrupt my interest in other films of that era so I don't know why I hold such a visceral loathing to this example. Maybe the rest of the film isn't really that strong. I don't know. I can't think of any other Hitchcock greats with this sort of musical disruption though.
Anyway, I feel as though I'm as able to engage with historical film as much as anyone. But for some reason, British Hitchcock is a bridge too far for me. Maybe it's too old and too British. I tried when I was younger, and I still can't, still don't care.
Grade Incomplete.
I didn't actually successfully watch this film. I tried to out of curiosity despite my historical failings with Hitchcock's early British films, partially because, lol, someone on the internet said it was better than his 50's remake and because I like Peter Lorre. I'm not a fan of the 50's remake almost solely because of Doris Day singing "que sera sera" which is such a terrible thing in my mind that it clouds my judgement for the rest of the movie for reasons I'm not even sure of. I've never let this sort of thing corrupt my interest in other films of that era so I don't know why I hold such a visceral loathing to this example. Maybe the rest of the film isn't really that strong. I don't know. I can't think of any other Hitchcock greats with this sort of musical disruption though.
Anyway, I feel as though I'm as able to engage with historical film as much as anyone. But for some reason, British Hitchcock is a bridge too far for me. Maybe it's too old and too British. I tried when I was younger, and I still can't, still don't care.
Grade Incomplete.
Twin Peaks - Mark Frost & David Lynch
Seen for the fifth time in March 2013.
I've watched both seasons of "Twin Peaks" at least once a year since I watched it for the first time in the spring of 2010 on DVD. It deserves many accolades, including "best series finale in television history," and many individual episodes are deserving of consideration for "best episode of any television show ever." And even despite suffering some late season 2 doldrums, it's still a solid contender for "best television show ever." One can find it's influence on future television shows, especially "The X-files," which more and more seems like it was inspired by some aspects of "Twin Peaks," but with some effort at tweaking the premise so that a more long lasting television show could exist successfully.
But "Twin Peaks" was also so much more than the distilled platonic excellence from which shows like "The X-files," or "LOST" or whatever might have been inspired. It was also a great parody of soap opera, with a dozen compelling minor characters that made up the backdrop of an intriguing mundane mystery as well as intriguing supernatural mysteries. Plus, Kyle Machlachlan channeling Cary Grant as one of the most charismatic television leads that I can recall.
Many oppositions do battle in "Twin Peaks." The supernatural vs the mundane. Big city vs small town. Good vs Evil. All of this and yet the show was so weird and quirky and funny on the one hand and serious and at times scary on the other. The name "Twin Peaks," itself is very inspired to me and all of it's implications and connotations do an incredible job of delineating the show's many facets and complexities. For instance, "Twin Peaks" is the name of the small town where the show is set, assumedly this has something to do with two mountains. But also with the phrase "Twin Peaks" we could be talking about a pair of breasts. Or also, we could think of the phrase as another way of saying "second glance," or "another look." Which to me is what the show really excels at doing, giving us a second look or a different perspective on so many mundane facets of life.
But the show has been much discussed and certain conventional wisdoms have congealed around it with which I have few quibbles. I'd just like to conclude with a few observations.
- The show does not go steeply down hill after the solving of the murder in the middle of season two.
Some write off season two altogether, and though the quality slightly but perceptibly dips during the course of the first ten episodes of season 2, it is still a great show at his point. It remains so many episodes after Laura Palmer's murderer is revealed. When the show really goes into steep decline is the episode where Windom Earle actually appears for the first time.
- The show is actually better if you skip episode 12 "The Orchid's Curse."
The first time I watched the show, I inadvertently skipped this episode where Cooper actually conducts a raid on One Eyed Jacks to rescue Audrey Horne and also some weird melodramatic stuff goes down with weirdo Harold Smith. So when I skipped from episode 11 to the denouement of episode 13, I was really taken and thrilled by what I thought was bold and brilliant storytelling, leaving everything that happened in episode 12 to inference. Like you just infer that Harold Smith went nuts and that Cooper rescued Audrey Horne. When I rewatched the series later, and realized that this episode existed I was more than disappointed. Actually watching this stuff happens feels really pointless and like a waste of time compared to the visceral excitement you get from inferring that it happened. Especially as out of nowhere seemingly, episode 13 begins with an anguished Harold Smith freaking out.
- The show probably wouldn't have been better if they left the Laura Palmer murder unsolved.
Lynch often says that the plan was to never solve the Laura Palmer story but let it slip into the background as they focused on other stories. But what stories would those be? Would it be the same Windom Earle story where a poorly cast actor with no charisma plays a sub-Hannibal Lector villain? Do we still get to watch Andy and Dick play with little Nicky? Do Billy Zane and Heather Graham still come along and bore us to death with their unnecessary presences? How much of Nadine do I have to watch in this alternate universe? Of James?
The show's decline is unrelated to solving the Laura Palmer murder. It was just running out of juice. It began asking too much of a character like Andy, who was entertaining in doses, but completely unable to carry a major portion of the program. Nadine's arc just got too silly. James was kind of a hilarious parody of the brooding sensitive teen for a while but instead of following their instincts and writing him out of the show, they just kept playing that one note for less and less reward. Bobby became less and less threatening over time until he became pointless. And once they wrote out Hank Jennings and even Josie, they lost a lot of charisma and many of the other characters began to lose their relevance. For example, scenes in the Double R diner become noticeably less important after Hank is sent back to prison for attempting to murder Leo.
And the point is none of this really has to do with whether or not they solved Laura's murder too early or not. Clearly, it doesn't make sense to solve her murder this early in the series run. It was an unbelievably stupid thing to do in all honesty. But the show was going to decline anyway. What it had going for it was disappearing rapidly.
The real problem with the show is that as it goes on and we begin to focus on Windom Earle, none of the other characters have a reason to exist anymore. They all go from relative shades of ominous or cutthroat or whatever to just plain silly, and almost all of the stories have resolved, from Ben Horne to Bobby to Catherine Martell. Everything they do becomes increasingly contrived and silly while the show focuses on what turned out to be the abominable failure of Windom Earle as lead villain.
- Leo Johnson is a lot less scary in the beginning and a lot more funny when you know how his story progresses.
- James, Donna, and Maddy are from the very beginning the worst aspect of this fine television show. The only way to understand James is not as a character but as a joke, and a decent one at that. Still, his scenes with Donna, and especially the scenes when all three are together are all really really really painful.
- The final episode is so good that's its worth wading through many episodes of dreck to get there.
How's Annie?
Grade A.
I've watched both seasons of "Twin Peaks" at least once a year since I watched it for the first time in the spring of 2010 on DVD. It deserves many accolades, including "best series finale in television history," and many individual episodes are deserving of consideration for "best episode of any television show ever." And even despite suffering some late season 2 doldrums, it's still a solid contender for "best television show ever." One can find it's influence on future television shows, especially "The X-files," which more and more seems like it was inspired by some aspects of "Twin Peaks," but with some effort at tweaking the premise so that a more long lasting television show could exist successfully.
But "Twin Peaks" was also so much more than the distilled platonic excellence from which shows like "The X-files," or "LOST" or whatever might have been inspired. It was also a great parody of soap opera, with a dozen compelling minor characters that made up the backdrop of an intriguing mundane mystery as well as intriguing supernatural mysteries. Plus, Kyle Machlachlan channeling Cary Grant as one of the most charismatic television leads that I can recall.
Many oppositions do battle in "Twin Peaks." The supernatural vs the mundane. Big city vs small town. Good vs Evil. All of this and yet the show was so weird and quirky and funny on the one hand and serious and at times scary on the other. The name "Twin Peaks," itself is very inspired to me and all of it's implications and connotations do an incredible job of delineating the show's many facets and complexities. For instance, "Twin Peaks" is the name of the small town where the show is set, assumedly this has something to do with two mountains. But also with the phrase "Twin Peaks" we could be talking about a pair of breasts. Or also, we could think of the phrase as another way of saying "second glance," or "another look." Which to me is what the show really excels at doing, giving us a second look or a different perspective on so many mundane facets of life.
But the show has been much discussed and certain conventional wisdoms have congealed around it with which I have few quibbles. I'd just like to conclude with a few observations.
- The show does not go steeply down hill after the solving of the murder in the middle of season two.
Some write off season two altogether, and though the quality slightly but perceptibly dips during the course of the first ten episodes of season 2, it is still a great show at his point. It remains so many episodes after Laura Palmer's murderer is revealed. When the show really goes into steep decline is the episode where Windom Earle actually appears for the first time.
- The show is actually better if you skip episode 12 "The Orchid's Curse."
The first time I watched the show, I inadvertently skipped this episode where Cooper actually conducts a raid on One Eyed Jacks to rescue Audrey Horne and also some weird melodramatic stuff goes down with weirdo Harold Smith. So when I skipped from episode 11 to the denouement of episode 13, I was really taken and thrilled by what I thought was bold and brilliant storytelling, leaving everything that happened in episode 12 to inference. Like you just infer that Harold Smith went nuts and that Cooper rescued Audrey Horne. When I rewatched the series later, and realized that this episode existed I was more than disappointed. Actually watching this stuff happens feels really pointless and like a waste of time compared to the visceral excitement you get from inferring that it happened. Especially as out of nowhere seemingly, episode 13 begins with an anguished Harold Smith freaking out.
- The show probably wouldn't have been better if they left the Laura Palmer murder unsolved.
Lynch often says that the plan was to never solve the Laura Palmer story but let it slip into the background as they focused on other stories. But what stories would those be? Would it be the same Windom Earle story where a poorly cast actor with no charisma plays a sub-Hannibal Lector villain? Do we still get to watch Andy and Dick play with little Nicky? Do Billy Zane and Heather Graham still come along and bore us to death with their unnecessary presences? How much of Nadine do I have to watch in this alternate universe? Of James?
The show's decline is unrelated to solving the Laura Palmer murder. It was just running out of juice. It began asking too much of a character like Andy, who was entertaining in doses, but completely unable to carry a major portion of the program. Nadine's arc just got too silly. James was kind of a hilarious parody of the brooding sensitive teen for a while but instead of following their instincts and writing him out of the show, they just kept playing that one note for less and less reward. Bobby became less and less threatening over time until he became pointless. And once they wrote out Hank Jennings and even Josie, they lost a lot of charisma and many of the other characters began to lose their relevance. For example, scenes in the Double R diner become noticeably less important after Hank is sent back to prison for attempting to murder Leo.
And the point is none of this really has to do with whether or not they solved Laura's murder too early or not. Clearly, it doesn't make sense to solve her murder this early in the series run. It was an unbelievably stupid thing to do in all honesty. But the show was going to decline anyway. What it had going for it was disappearing rapidly.
The real problem with the show is that as it goes on and we begin to focus on Windom Earle, none of the other characters have a reason to exist anymore. They all go from relative shades of ominous or cutthroat or whatever to just plain silly, and almost all of the stories have resolved, from Ben Horne to Bobby to Catherine Martell. Everything they do becomes increasingly contrived and silly while the show focuses on what turned out to be the abominable failure of Windom Earle as lead villain.
- Leo Johnson is a lot less scary in the beginning and a lot more funny when you know how his story progresses.
- James, Donna, and Maddy are from the very beginning the worst aspect of this fine television show. The only way to understand James is not as a character but as a joke, and a decent one at that. Still, his scenes with Donna, and especially the scenes when all three are together are all really really really painful.
- The final episode is so good that's its worth wading through many episodes of dreck to get there.
How's Annie?
Grade A.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
The Roaring Twenties - Raoul Walsh
Seen for the first time in June 2013.
"The Roaring Twenties" is a nice sharp prohibition era gangster film. It's positions itself as a retrospective on the twenties a bit and at times comes off like anti-prohibition propaganda. James Cagney gets sucked into the racket and is destroyed by it while rising to the top in between. It zips along nicely. It's almost paced like a modern movie. Much of the dialogue and setups is easily imagined in more modern filmmaking. The only thing that really dates it is the sort of theatric feel inherent in many older movies. Grade B.
"The Roaring Twenties" is a nice sharp prohibition era gangster film. It's positions itself as a retrospective on the twenties a bit and at times comes off like anti-prohibition propaganda. James Cagney gets sucked into the racket and is destroyed by it while rising to the top in between. It zips along nicely. It's almost paced like a modern movie. Much of the dialogue and setups is easily imagined in more modern filmmaking. The only thing that really dates it is the sort of theatric feel inherent in many older movies. Grade B.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Arrested Development Season 4
Seen for the first time in May 2013.
I count myself among what must be the few enthusiastic fans of the first two seasons of Arrested Development who did not clamor for but who actively rooted against some sort of resurgence of the show. If a film had come a year or two after the show had been cancelled, I would have greeted that news with some excitement, but as the time passed and the prospects of the principals devoting their time to renewing this project dwindled, the more I felt it was in everyone's best interest to let this once fine show rest in hallowed peace.
Season three, for all of its flaws - and there were many, provided a nice neat ending for the show. It was a completed work, in my mind. What could be gained by reanimating it's lovely corpse for one last dance. Why risk a stale aftertaste when we had a completed ouevre we could remember fondly? Why tarnish those fond memories?
Well, of course, there are always reasons. The creator need not justify his creations. As a fan though, I was skeptical. Especially in light of the myriad weaknesses of season 3, where the show saw it's weakest and most contrived plotlines and many of its "jokes" were not in fact jokes, but references to jokes the show had already told. Some fans justified this by claiming to believe it was really clever to constantly reference old jokes. I didn't find it clever. Not anymore clever than the 100th recycling of a proven skit on Saturday Night Live. Some people should have known better. At least in my opinion.
Which is all a roundabout way of saying that this show was never as smart as some of us claimed it was. Certainly it didn't make stuff up as it went along to the extent of a show like "LOST." Some of their best gags are foreshadowed seasons in advance. Even the graffiti on the banana stand in the season one episode where Michael and George Michael rebuild the banana stand says "I'll Get You Bluths - Hello," which foreshadows Annyong's real name, his background, and his role as the mole. And I'm not saying the humor isn't smart in a witty sort of way. But this is a low bar. It was a funny show, and a lot of young kids prone to posturing and overpraise really liked it. I was one of them.
So finally, I get to season four. And it starts off weak. Cinco de quatro is one of the most contrivedly unfunny ideas that has ever presented itself. It's a parody of itself. Does the show get better after a few episodes. Yes. But also, who cares. It's boring and un-engaging. I don't have the interest in breaking down why this is so boring to me. It's not even overly referential, but a lot of the gags aren't that good. "Method One Clinic" and "ANUSTART" are not really clever.
The episodes drag on and on and even attempts at jokes are few and far between as Ron Howard drones on and on. My god who gives a shit about this. There's a whole lot of treading water and it's something a person would just not watch if they had not invested a lot in it at one point in their life. There are laugh out loud moments for sure. Gob shines. He always does. Whereas Buster and Lucille seem like they are trying to rekindle a fire that died years ago. Tobias is hit and miss. And Maeby's story is probably the weakest of them all.
Ultimately, the fourth season of Arrested Development meets expectations by being redundant, superfluous, and unnecessary. It unwraps a neatly tied bow to an unsatisfying result as all reunion shows ever have. But at the same time, it does genuinely leave us with more laughs than we had before. I don't wish to unmake it. I don't wish for my sense of entitlement to become out-sized in relation to what this show has given us. I do wish the laughs the fourth season gave us were as concentrated and hung from as worthwhile story-lines as earlier seasons though. Grade C.
I count myself among what must be the few enthusiastic fans of the first two seasons of Arrested Development who did not clamor for but who actively rooted against some sort of resurgence of the show. If a film had come a year or two after the show had been cancelled, I would have greeted that news with some excitement, but as the time passed and the prospects of the principals devoting their time to renewing this project dwindled, the more I felt it was in everyone's best interest to let this once fine show rest in hallowed peace.
Season three, for all of its flaws - and there were many, provided a nice neat ending for the show. It was a completed work, in my mind. What could be gained by reanimating it's lovely corpse for one last dance. Why risk a stale aftertaste when we had a completed ouevre we could remember fondly? Why tarnish those fond memories?
Well, of course, there are always reasons. The creator need not justify his creations. As a fan though, I was skeptical. Especially in light of the myriad weaknesses of season 3, where the show saw it's weakest and most contrived plotlines and many of its "jokes" were not in fact jokes, but references to jokes the show had already told. Some fans justified this by claiming to believe it was really clever to constantly reference old jokes. I didn't find it clever. Not anymore clever than the 100th recycling of a proven skit on Saturday Night Live. Some people should have known better. At least in my opinion.
Which is all a roundabout way of saying that this show was never as smart as some of us claimed it was. Certainly it didn't make stuff up as it went along to the extent of a show like "LOST." Some of their best gags are foreshadowed seasons in advance. Even the graffiti on the banana stand in the season one episode where Michael and George Michael rebuild the banana stand says "I'll Get You Bluths - Hello," which foreshadows Annyong's real name, his background, and his role as the mole. And I'm not saying the humor isn't smart in a witty sort of way. But this is a low bar. It was a funny show, and a lot of young kids prone to posturing and overpraise really liked it. I was one of them.
So finally, I get to season four. And it starts off weak. Cinco de quatro is one of the most contrivedly unfunny ideas that has ever presented itself. It's a parody of itself. Does the show get better after a few episodes. Yes. But also, who cares. It's boring and un-engaging. I don't have the interest in breaking down why this is so boring to me. It's not even overly referential, but a lot of the gags aren't that good. "Method One Clinic" and "ANUSTART" are not really clever.
The episodes drag on and on and even attempts at jokes are few and far between as Ron Howard drones on and on. My god who gives a shit about this. There's a whole lot of treading water and it's something a person would just not watch if they had not invested a lot in it at one point in their life. There are laugh out loud moments for sure. Gob shines. He always does. Whereas Buster and Lucille seem like they are trying to rekindle a fire that died years ago. Tobias is hit and miss. And Maeby's story is probably the weakest of them all.
Ultimately, the fourth season of Arrested Development meets expectations by being redundant, superfluous, and unnecessary. It unwraps a neatly tied bow to an unsatisfying result as all reunion shows ever have. But at the same time, it does genuinely leave us with more laughs than we had before. I don't wish to unmake it. I don't wish for my sense of entitlement to become out-sized in relation to what this show has given us. I do wish the laughs the fourth season gave us were as concentrated and hung from as worthwhile story-lines as earlier seasons though. Grade C.
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