News Satire Roundup: April 16th-April 20th

Sunday, April 16 – John opened on Sean Spicer declaring Assad worse than Hitler and bizarrely doubling down on his “Hitler didn’t use chemical weapons” claim – what is even happening here?  The show continued the story from last week about the praise Trump received for bombing Syria, with the “mother of all bombs” drop in Afghanistan adding to that pile.  Trump’s word vomit failing to state whether or not he approved the strike was disturbing.  The main story was on France’s upcoming election.  I knew France was one of the countries that’s experienced a troubling rise in nativism, and I knew a lot of people have been watching Le Pen’s campaign with concern, but as usual, John filled me in on plenty I didn’t know.  John expertly laid out the dangers behind Le Pen’s “rehabilitated” image of her party and still found time to share pastry-based political protest and the amusement of the “So You Think You Can France” candidate.

Monday, April 17 – I like when Trevor shares about what he’s been up to when the show’s been on break, and this time, he described his encounter with penitents in Spain, whose traditional pre-Easter outfits eerily resemble KKK robes.  I laughed at the props he gave them for not giving up “their thing” just because it now has hate-group associations.  Next was a run-through of foreign nations the US has recently tangled with.  We covered Syria (with Trump misstating the country he bombed to a journalist,) Afghanistan (featuring some good jokes on the “mother of all bombs” title,) and North Korea (where Mike Pence took his wife to the DMZ in case he ran into unchaperoned women dining.)  Quick piece on the White House Easter Egg Roll, in which Melania evidently nudged Trump to put his hand to his heart for the National Anthem.  Economist Austan Goolsbee was the guest, scratching his head at Trump’s non-plan for taxes.

Tuesday, April 18 – The show opened with the results of Turkey’s election, in which Erdoğan was made dictator; Erdoğan’s “talk to the hand” remark led to some good jokes about a “sassy dictator” using ‘90s sitcom catchphrases.  Pretty good story on Alex Jones’s custody battle in court, declaring that his conspiracy-theory-touting fearmongerer persona is just that, a “character” he adopts.  Trevor did a nice job explaining a) why that was crap and b) why, even if it was true, Jones’s words still have extreme real-world consequences.  The “Trump oracle” bit, with Roy playing a fortune teller who predicts Trump’s future actions by reading his past tweets and reversing the position, fell flat for me.  A good concept, and they picked some apt tweets to use, but it dragged and never quite came together.  The guest was Representative Adam Schiff, there to talk about the probe into the administration’s associations with Russia.

Wednesday, April 19 – I liked the joke that Serena Williams’s pregnancy should nullify her recent win, since it means she was technically playing doubles – ha!  Good piece bidding a not-so-fond farewell to Bill O’Reilly, covering many lowlights of his career but paying special attention to his racist remarks about Black people.  Trevor’s reaction to his comments about eating at Sylvia’s in Harlem was excellent.  Hasan had a solid field piece on the water crisis in Ranger, Texas, highlighting that Flint isn’t the end of the story on unsafe drinking water.  The piece hit on the insane, unfair, and demoralizing ways this crisis affects people’s everyday lives, and it dovetailed nicely into the interview with guest Marc Edwards, who helped uncover the lead in Flint’s water.  His point that some of the country’s most disadvantaged individuals pay the highest bills for water they can’t even drink/use safely was just awful.

Thursday, April 20 – Fun opening on Russia’s new “definitely not a Terminator” robots.  Next, in honor of 4/20, Trevor gave a rundown of shifting public opinion on marijuana legalization and the unlikelihood of drug laws becoming anything but more stringent under Jeff Sessions.  The piece also featured Trevor’s theory that Trump is high all the time (using his “lost armada” as a major piece of evidence.)  Decent story on relaxed Internet privacy regulations that will allow ISPs to sell customers’ private information.  The porn angle was expected but not especially creative (along with the accompanying faux-informercial from Roy) – much more fun was Trevor’s observation that Trump basically “browser histories” his way through life and rolled back regulations so everyone will be forced to be as transparent as him.  Rashida Jones was the guest, talking about her new documentary series examining the porn industry.

Relationship Spotlight: Sunny & Quinn (Into the Badlands)

From my view, if you’re going to talk about Into the Badlands, you really have to get to the relationship between Sunny and Quinn at some point, and I can’t help doing it sooner rather than later.  So fascinating, so twisted, and infinitely watchable (a few major season 1 spoilers.)

When you first look at Sunny and Quinn’s relationship, it’s easy to think of Sunny as Quinn’s number two, his regent and most trusted clipper.  Quinn values Sunny’s input on matters of strategy and frequently seeks out his opinion on next moves, and it’s obvious that Ryder, Quinn’s own son, is jealous of Sunny’s favor/respect in Quinn’s eyes.  And in Quinn’s (very twisted) way, he does kind of view Sunny as an heir of sorts, as his pride and joy, his greatest success.

But there’s one thing you can never forget:  a clipper may have more perks and a great illusion of autonomy than a cog, but Quinn owns Sunny.  Sunny is Quinn’s slave who’s been trained to kill for him since he was a child, and it’s usually in the moments when you almost get lulled into thinking of them from a father/son perspective that Quinn asserts his ownership and you remember that Sunny is actually the property of a madman.  When Sunny is doing as he’s told and proving his value, Quinn is all smiles and conviviality, but the second Sunny tries to argue, he’s put in his place in the most devastating ways.  Quinn butchers the parents of Sunny’s secret lover with Sunny’s own sword when Sunny refuses to follow orders and do it himself, and he then forces Sunny to torch their house with the bodies inside.  When Sunny is out of Quinn’s favor, Quinn takes a malicious delight in breaking him down to remind him just what the dynamic is between them.

As a viewer, this can seem crazy.  By this point, we’ve seen what Sunny can do, and even though Quinn is a very talented fighter as well, it seems like a foregone conclusion that Sunny could wipe the floor with him (and even if things went the other way, it’s tempting to believe that Sunny would rather die trying than serve that monster a minute longer.)  And to be sure, season 1 is in large part about Sunny breaking from Quinn once and all, about the stakes raising to the point where Sunny can go against Quinn in a big way, but the stakes have to be insanely high before Sunny is prepared to make this move.  And this is what gets me most about their relationship:  Sunny’s often subservient, seemingly unshakable loyalty to Quinn despite how obviously terrible he is. 

It is more than just fealty to a baron in exchange for the benefits/protections that comes with.  Again, Sunny’s abilities in a fight are almost superhuman at this point, and he could easily protect himself and Veil from whatever might come at him.  I get that there are barriers to leaving the Badlands, and Sunny’s ultimate goal for them would be freedom rather than living in hiding, but that’s not really why it takes so long for him to pull the trigger on trying to leave, even more so on facing Quinn in a real fight.  Instead, it’s about Sunny’s genuine, self-destructive devotion to Quinn.  After all, when Sunny refuses to kill Veil’s parents for him, Quinn holds a blade to Sunny’s neck and Sunny doesn’t move a muscle.  At that point in the series, Sunny won’t follow this order, but he also won’t raise a hand againt Quinn, in defense of Veil’s parents or his own life.

That’s seriously messed-up, and it’s all rooted in Sunny’s many years under Quinn.  Like I said, he was “rescued” in the wastelands and brought to Quinn as a child, where he was groomed to become one of the greatest clippers the Badlands has ever seen.  And along the way, all that time, there was Quinn feeding him lies about how he saved Sunny, cared for Sunny, took Sunny from an unwanted nobody and fashioned him into the formidable man he is today.  From the outside looking in, it’s clear that these are all ludicrous lies, but Sunny has had a steady diet of this BS ever since he was a kid, and that changes a person.

It helps if you try to view it as similar to the dynamic between Agu and the Commandant in Beast of No Nation.  Even though the Commandant is a disgusting, manipulative human being who conscripts children into his “army,” that’s not how Agu sees it because the Commandant is a master at controlling the narrative, and so is Quinn.  You were lost and I found you.  You were left to die and I saved you.  You were powerless, defenseless, and I gave you the tools you need to protect yourself from any foe.  You’re like a son to me, more so than my own son, and I’m the only one who cares about you.  In light of how much I love you, you’ll fight for me, won’t you?  After all I’ve done for you, don’t you owe it to me?  That’s a powerful, heady stream of lies to fill a vulnerable child’s head with, and in a way, it’s just as disturbing to see to long-term effects of that manipulation when the child has long since become a man who would be more than skilled enough to break free but has been conditioned to the point that he can scarcely imagine such an idea.  That’s what I see when I look at Sunny and Quinn.

Further Thoughts on Iron Fist

I’ll be upfront:  I know that #AAIronFist affected what enjoyment I might have had in Iron Fist as the series actually is.  And it’s not just about the discomfort of the White Savior/Orientalism notion, although that’s definitely a factor in the series (Danny lecturing Colleen on martial arts inside her own dojo made me want to punch him – is that what they were going for?)  It’s also because the storytelling ideas put forth by people pushing for an Asian-American Danny sounded so cool to me, and no matter how Iron Fist starring Finn Jones had turned out, I would’ve been disappointed not to get that story.

And yes, I love the hell out of Lewis Tan’s all-too-brief performance as Zhou Cheng.  Knowing the background of Tan having auditioned for Danny, I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for him shooting with Jones – when I see the two of them onscreen together, I can’t help but think, bitterly and ungenerously, “Right, ‘cause it’s not like we’d want martial arts skills or charisma for the lead of our martial arts show!”  I also think Tan has done a good job with press since the show dropped, handling things diplomatically even when his interviewers give him the perfect setup for honesty that’s a lot more brutal.  I’ll admit that I’ve spent more than a little time wondering what the action scenes might’ve looked like with Tan in the lead role.

However, having seen all of Iron Fist, I can say that casting Tan (or another talented Asian-American actor with a martial arts background, but since we have Tan on the show, I’ll stick with him for my hypotheticals) would’ve technically been a #AAIronFist, but it wouldn’t have been the #AAIronFist that I fell in love with when I was reading the initial arguments for the casting move.  Furthermore, while casting Tan would’ve helped (dramatically) increase the quality of the fight scenes and smoothed over the uncomfortable optics of Danny’s interactions with Colleen, it’s not a one-stop fix that would’ve cured Iron Fist of all its ills.

Casting an Asian-American as Danny could’ve been a great move.  But creating a #AAIronFist like Keith Chow imagined would’ve called for more than just a deliberate vision for casting:  crucially, it would’ve also required writers that could handle the type of engrossing storytelling he, and others who supported #AAIronFist, envisioned.  The casting choice can combat the problematic racial dynamics in the source material, but it takes a writer with skill, care, and craft to follow this story to its full potential.  I have no confidence that Scott Buck and co. would’ve taken any advantage of the different lens an Asian-American Danny could’ve provided (I’m relatively sure that they’re not aware of how the more problematic scenes with Danny look, so I can’t imagine them handling the identity of an Asian-American lead with much nuance.)  No, to really bring this vision to life, we would’ve needed someone different both in front of and behind the camera.

Never mind the creative ideas put forth by the #AAIronFist campaign – Scott Buck and co. don’t demonstrate much care or craft in the more straightforward story they do tell, which brings me back to my second point.  Casting Tan as Danny would most probably have helped with certain aspects of the show, but it wouldn’t have automatically flipped Iron Fist from a bad show to a good one.  More entertaining fights, no White Savior optics, and the freshness of having an Asian-American superhero – all good things, undeniably.  But it would’ve still had clunky dialogue, pacing issues, and unfocused plotting, and while losing the White Savior angle would make Danny marginally less annoying, he’d still be a frustrating character.  He’d still be an aggravating flip-flopper who insists on taking the lead even when he has no plan, has no concept of other people’s boundaries, and doesn’t seem to have any clue about what he really wants.  Some of Iron Fist’s problems stem from its racial issues, but a lot more are simply baked into the storytelling.  This, to me, is not a good show, to the point where I think Tan might have been better off getting one amazing scene as the awesome Zhou instead of 13 interminable episodes as the annoying Danny.  (Honestly – Finn Jones doesn’t do much to win me over in this series, but I can concede that, as written, Danny is an albatross that Jones would’ve been hard-pressed to make work under any circumstances.)  As disheartening as that audition experience must have been for Tan, I hope the exposure he got here, as one of the few consistently-praised aspects of the show, helps land him larger roles in projects that are more up to snuff.

The Last Five Years (2014, PG-13)

I really love Jason Robert Brown’s The Last Five Years – gorgeous music, complex themes, intriguing plotting, and some terrific lyrics.  If I recall correctly, it was my introduction to Brown as a composer, as well as Norbert Leo Butz as an actor.  Today, though, we’re not looking at Brown’s original 2001 off-Broadway music but the 2014 film adaptation of it.  Seeing Newsies in the theater reinvigorated my interest in filmed musicals and movie musicals, which allowed me to finally bring this movie up on my Netflix queue (premise spoilers.)

As in the stage show, The Last Five Years is the story of the relationship between Jamie, a young writer who experiences a whirlwind rise to fame, and Cathy, an aspiring actress who can’t seem to catch a break.  The film takes us from the relationship’s breathless beginning to its tearful end – nothing all that unique in and of itself, but the split, non-linear narrative guides us through it from opposite ends.  Jamie’s songs open with their first date and move forward, while Cathy’s begin with the dissolution of their relationship five years later and move backward.

This was a really frustrating adaptation for me.  It has a lot of good things going for it and could have been great, but for my money, the direction lets down both the source material and the cast.  First off, we have the translation of the story from script to screen.  To me, it mostly feels uninspired.  Some numbers (like “Still Hurting”) seem to be directed too statically while others (like “Shiksa Goddess”) are hampered by some really cheesy-looking love scenes – having the actors run their hands over each other while one sings with their mouth close to the other’s while never actually kissing them doesn’t look as convincing as director Richard LaGravenese seems to think it does.  Also, there are very few cinematic markers to signify the non-linear narrative.  Little hints – changing hair/clothing styles, conspicuous shots of things with the date on them (like a New Year’s Eve banner or a sign for a summer theatre’s season) – but not much in the actual filmmaking itself.  To be fair, the first time I heard the stage recording, I already knew how the narrative device worked, so I can’t say how much of this is the material versus the adaptation.  But for the film at least, I think I might have spent at least the first few scenes pretty confused if I hadn’t known the set-up going in.  The movie needs something, and I’ll admit I’m not sure what, but there had to be a more cinematic way to indicate the changing time.

Part of this is because of how present each character is in the other one’s numbers.  The show is designed mostly as a series of alternating solos, with the two only singing together when their timelines meet in the middle for their wedding, and it tends to be staged with the “off” actor in any given song absent together, positioned with their back to the audience, or otherwise somewhat removed from the proceedings compared to their scene partner.  Here, though, both actors are present onscreen throughout quite a few of the songs, the “off” actor visibly, and sometimes verbally, reacting to the other’s songs.  I’m of two minds about this.  On one hand, it helps to give a better picture of what Cathy and Jamie’s relationship is like and fleshes them out more as a couple.  On the other, it blurs the clear delineations between the two narratives and muddies the focus a little.  Again, there had to be a cinematic fix for this.

These issues are disappointing, not only because of how much I enjoy the original score/story, but because of how good the cast is.  This is an intimate story that really depends on just two actors to carry it through, and Anna Kendrick and Jeremy Jordan are both excellent.  Kendrick is an able singer who sells Cathy’s joy, heartbreak, worry, and hope in equal measure, and Jordan’s superb vocals and nuanced performance keep Jamie engaging even when he stops being likeable.  These two are a winning combination for these roles and sell the connection between their characters, but mostly, they make me wish they were in a film that served them better.

Warnings

Swearing, mild sexual content, drinking, and thematic elements.

The Twilight Zone: Season 3, Episode 13 – “Once Upon a Time” (1961)

No contest, I’d say this guest-starring episode is the best of Buster’s forays into television in the ‘50s and ‘60s.  Some really funny, Bustery stuff here, along with a solid story and decent production values.  You can tell it was absolutely made with Buster in mind, and I’d bet that he had a lot of input with the comedy (premise spoilers for the episode.)

Buster plays Woodrow Mulligan, the central character in this little yarn.  Living in 1890 (where the scenes are shot silent-movie style,) Woodrow is fed up with the “modern world,” where sirloin steak costs a whole seventeen cents a pound and the streets are crammed, I tell you, crammed with dangerous bicycles whizzing about.  As it happens, he’s also the janitor for a professor who has just put the finishing touches on his “time helmet,” which allows the wearer to visit any year for 30 minutes.  Through an inevitable mishap, Buster winds up getting transported by the helmet to the at-the-time present day of 1961, where he’s in for a rude awakening about how he should’ve appreciated what he had.

As I said, there’s some excellent comedy here, both in the silent-movie 1890 scenes and in the “talkie” present-day scenes.  There are plenty of good sight gags in the opening 1890 sequences that remind me a little bit of the “bustling” depiction of 1830s New York in Our Hospitality.  It hits on the same dramatic (or in this case, comedic) irony of someone in the past talking about this “fast, modern world” they’re living in when we know about the sort of changes that are ahead.  Bits like Woodrow bemoaning the headline “Government Surplus Only $85 Million” are great.  And of course, there’s all sorts of slapstick to be had, with lots of little touches that are Buster through and through.  I especially like the bit with the cellar door, hanging up the harmonica on the clothesline, and the fight with the vacuum cleaner.  On the latter note, all of Woodrow’s wary curiosity of 1960s technology is a blast.

There are a couple of reused gags here, both of which involve a frantic, pantsless Buster on a busy city street.  When his pantsless predicament (of course) catches the attention of a cop, a sort-of friend Woodrow has managed to make fills in with the Fatty Arbuckle part from The Garage, first hiding Woodrow from the cop and then, once they get him some pants, picking him up so he can put them on without missing a step.  I’ve always loved that gag, and Buster still executes it like a pro here.  There’s also a nod to the bit from Daydreams where an, again, pantsless Buster pays for his new pants with a wad of cash he discovers in the pocket.

It’s a little interesting to me that this is the theme of a story written for Buster to star in it.  I get why they set it up the way they do, because starting in the past gives them an excuse to do the silent-movie shtick, and it’s naturally gonna be funny to have Buster freaked out by everything he encounters in the ‘60s.  Obviously, Buster does a great job with the episode and I’m sure had a ball making it.  But, given Buster’s love of new things and changing times – we constantly see his fascination with cars and other machines in his silent work, always innovating, and he once talked about being at a Hollywood party with some of the old guard and being amazed that no one there listened to the Beatles – it’s a bit ironic that the story made for him is about a man from the past who thinks the world is already too modern and wishes he could go back to a simpler time.  It makes for good comedy, and Buster can play the heck out of it, but that wasn’t him, not one bit.

Doctor Who: Series 10, Episode 1 – “The Pilot” (2017)

And we’re back!  I’m cautiously optimistic about this episode and, dare I say it, the season?  While it’s not without its problems, I think I may have enjoyed this more than any Who season premiere since “The Eleventh Hour.”  Fingers crossed?  (A few basic spoilers.)

The Doctor, we’re told, has evidently spent the the last 70-odd years as a professor at Bristol University, where he lectures on whatever he damn well feels like in between guarding a mysterious vault for nonspecified reasons that will likely constitute this season’s main arc.  In his professor capacity, he takes an interest in Bill, a young woman who works in the university canteen but faithfully attends his lectures.  Her brightness, curiosity, and habit of smiling (rather than frowning) when she encounters something she doesn't understand appeals to him, but he’s determined not to go down a companion road with her – that is, until Bill comes across a strange puddle with impossible properties (because of course.)  It’s only a matter of time before the Doctor, Bill, and Nardole, who’s still around, are being chased across the universe by a sentient puddle that can take human form – just another day!

First things first:  there are a few shaky moments here and there (her very first monologue makes me “ugh” a bit,) but overall, I’m decidedly pro-Bill.  All signs point to her traveling with the Doctor based mainly on her merits – curiosity, bravery, a strong knack for asking Excellent Questions – instead of being some sort of mystery the Doctor wants to solve.  She’s also likeable but imperfect, clearly full of potential that’s mostly still untapped, and she’s excited at the prospect of traveling in time and space.  Having already spent some time getting to know the Doctor as an eccentric professor, it’ll be interesting to see if/how that factors into their Doctor-companion dynamic.

By and large, the Doctor is pretty delightful here.  I like his appreciation of and friendly affection for Bill, and I totally get why she’d be a fan of him both as a professor and a time/space-traveling alien.  I’m grateful that, even though this is a case of the Doctor having been planted in one spot for a long time and not getting up to all his usual Doctory business (and once again suggesting he doesn’t “do” companions anymore, although that sentiment seems to ignore Nardole,) he hasn’t just been languishing all this time.  He’s still been doing good (guarding the vault for reasons unknown) and enjoying himself (hearing himself talk during his undoubtedly preposterous and magnificent lectures,) and there are hints that guarding the vault is something that he’s been charged with doing, meaning he’s here for a specific purpose rather than moping for decades after the loss of a previous companion.  (And honestly, as far as the Doctor’s timeline goes, it’s now been so long since Clara was around that it feels right for him to be getting on with things, even though he has been taking a bit of a detour.)

The story is decent to pretty good, I’d say.  The central alien threat feels like a cross between the aliens in both “Midnight” and “The Waters of Mars,” and while it’s not as strong as either of those stories, there are some interesting happenings going on, a few strongly resonant scenes, and only minimal nonsensical plotting.  Still, it’s mostly just background to the main event, which is introducing Bill and seeing how she interacts with the Doctor.  I’m pretty well sold, and I’m looking forward to seeing these two together – I’m daring to have hope that they’ll both be good for each other.

Favorite Characters: Veil (Into the Badlands)

Over the course of its first season and into its second, Into the Badlands has pulled back the layers on several really wonderful, varied female characters.  I enjoy them all greatly for different reasons, and I know that I’ll probably say something eerily similar when I get around to a write-up on the Widow, but for now, let me say that Veil might be my favorite.  She seems to be swimming in such a different direction than so many characters on the show, and there’s tremendous value in that (a few spoilers.)

In the harsh, brutal world of the Badlands, where the sheath of a sword is as commonplace an article of clothing as shoes, where the only law people understand is that those in power take it by force, Veil is a healer who looks to repair, not wound.  She serves as a doctor to cogs, clippers, and barons alike – though there are some classist protests at a “cog doctor” treating members of the elite, her skills and knowledge are ultimately too rare to be turned away – even helping those who would wish her harm. 

Quinn would argue that promoting life is in “her nature” just as killing is in his, and there’s an interesting give-and-take in the idea of how far Veil’s principles can carry her in the Badlands.  Is there a way to truly survive in this society without prioritizing one’s needs and desires over that of others, and hurting them to get it?  It’s a question that follows Veil throughout her time on the show, and while it’s weathered some tough storms, it’s a question that grows increasingly difficult as her own situation becomes more desperate (and, notably, as her needs coincide with someone else’s, someone whose very survival depends on hers.)

Which isn’t to say that Veil has no sense of self-preservation, just that she doesn’t live by a kill-or-be-killed mentality.  Rather, she survives by her intelligence.  She knows how essential her skillset is in the Badlands where blood is a way of life.  When she’s treating someone that she knows could easily kill her, she puts safeguards in place for herself, ensuring that they know they need her in order to make it through (her trick with the three bottles at the end of season 1 is particularly badass/clever.)  Meanwhile, she makes plans for the sort of life that doesn’t happen there.

And her intelligence isn’t purely medical knowhow.  She’s one of the few people in the Badlands who is fully literate (it’s hard to tell with the barons and their families, since a number of them rose out of the lower castes themselves, but most cogs and clippers definitely can’t read,) a skill that has served her in learning her trade as well as in other ways.  Additionally, I love the mechanical engineering smarts she displays with her “mimics,” prosthetic limbs she designs and builds herself for her patients.  I just love the image of an intelligent woman tinkering, and doing it to help others is even lovelier.

Intelligence, compassion, and an ability to put aside class/personal animosity for the good of human life.  Traits that are hard to come by in the Badlands, and while the first will of course always be with her, I can’t say for sure whether the other two will make it out of the Badlands intact.  Veil certainly has a hard road ahead, but I look forward to seeing where it takes her and how she travels it.