Favorite Characters: Mike Watt (Spaced)

 

I’ve already talked about Tim and Daisy relationship, and while both of them will most likely get their own post someday, today’s is about Tim’s best friend Mike.  He’s such a funny, outrageous character that it can be tempting to think of him as a mere cartoonish presence, but like everyone in Spaced, he mixes heart with the hilarity.

 

Mike seems to have two chief loves in his life:  Tim and the Territorial Army (the British army reserves.)  He eats, sleeps, and breathes soldierdom, always carrying at least one “security gun” with him and frequently dressing in combat gear.  When the gang plans an elaborate caper, Tim tells everyone the rendezvous time but needs to convert it to military time for Mike.  The only problem?  The Territorial Army will no longer have him.

 

Yep, the TAs ousted him after a slight incident involving a stolen tank.  Mike, then, is more than a soldier without a war; he’s one without an army.  While he makes do in his day-to-day civilian life – snapping off salutes, throwing himself ferociously into paintball, joining the Rough Ramblers (from what I can tell, a Cub Scout equivalent) – it’s clear that he’s desperate to get back in.

 

When he’s not treating London as his own personal foxhole, Mike is joined at the hip with Tim.  He enjoys many of the same geeky pursuits that Tim does, from Star Wars to Lara Croft, and is naturally at his happiest if he can incorporate tactical movements and violence.  His walkie talkies are ever at the ready for scheming purposes, and when he and Tim build a competitive battle robot, he treats it like a particularly lethal pet.

 

More than that, though, Mike is there for Tim in ways that his somewhat navel-gazing friend doesn’t always manage.  Whether he’s advising Tim to be cautious with his ex-girlfriend or helping him climb into an air duct, he always has Tim’s back (and that’s literal when they play paintball.)  His protectiveness toward and constant efforts to help Tim are as sweet as they are entertaining, and some of the show’s most surprisingly serious moments come when Mike takes Tim to task for not giving their friendship the proper attention.

 

I should mention there’s a distinct possibility that Mike is in love with Tim.  While there’s no woman he shows an especial interest in, he’s been known to appraisingly compliment Tim’s looks and has outright said, “I fancy you.”  I know that sitcoms are notorious for bromance jokes, but for whatever reason, the dynamic here feels a bit more earnest to me.  Maybe it’s Tim’s reaction to statements like this; he’s non-receptive but no more than mildly annoyed, and on the rare occasions when he’s the bromantic one (like saying, “Hey, babe,” when Daisy tells him his “boyfriend” is on the phone,) it feels overtly jokey in a way that it doesn’t when it’s Mike.

 

Overall, from a gender perspective, Mike is an interesting character.  He’s incredibly nerdy, uber-macho, and openly sensitive, which makes for a neat mix.  Any time his rough-and-tumble military exploits fall flat, it’s because he’s been ambitious and gung-ho beyond his ken, not because he’s generally incapable, and he slips as easily into geek references as Tim does.  All the while, he’s an emotional guy who doesn’t balk at talking about his feelings.  It’s not often that you come across a character like Mike on TV.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (2012)

 

Gotta love National Theatre Live.  What a terrific way to see fantastic plays!  I need to watch out – if I’m not careful, I might start to resent any London productions that don’t get recorded for cinema screenings!  Anyway, this time around, it’s a dramatized version of Mark Haddon’s famous novel.

 

Going in, I was curious as to how they’d pull it off. It's a very internal book, with so much of it living in Christopher’s precisely-detailed thoughts.  Granted, that sort of thing is easier to do onstage than in a movie, but it still presents an important challenge.  Any concerns, though, were quickly allayed.  This play incorporates Christopher’s thoughts and observations in creatively functional ways, while also wonderfully depicting the sensory chaos of a neurotypical world from the perspective of someone with autism.

 

One thing I like about The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time is that, though Christopher’s autism makes up an unmistakable aspect of his character, it isn’t the plot in and of itself.  Rather, the story is about his investigation into the death of his neighbor’s dog, as well as his relationships with his parents.  Christopher’s investigation sends him into unfamiliar territory, forcing him to change and adapt.  It also causes additional friction between him and his father and uncovers secrets that have been kept from him.  It’s a story about learning to venture out, learning to forgive, and learning to trust.  I really appreciate that.

 

That being said, the production is very autism-savvy.  The acting, direction, sound, lighting, and set all work together to help neurotypical people see the world through Christopher’s eyes.  When he’s in overwhelming situations, disorienting dubstep music assaults the senses, the ensemble is a source of constant noise, motion, and intrusive touching (they grab, push, and lift him at will,) and a barrage of lights and words flash across the otherwise-minimalist stage.  There’s information- and sensory-overload everywhere.

 

As I said, a decent chunk of Christopher’s narration from the book is brought to the play.  Sometimes, he delivers the monologues himself, but more often, they’re read aloud (from the book he’s writing) by his teacher, who’s almost ever-present onstage.  It’s a nice device, since it keeps Christopher in the action, and it’s interesting, since many of the lines sound stiff and technical as he wrote them, but his teacher reads them with warmth and feeling.  It helps the show get at the feelings Christopher of course has but has difficulty articulating or expressing in socially-conventional ways.

 

The acting is excellent across the board.  Luke Treadaway ably handles the physical and emotional demands of playing Christopher, and Paul Ritter does a fine job as his father, a man who’s half-drowning in his struggles, who frequently gets it wrong but who’s trying desperately.  Additionally, Sherlock fans will recognize Una Stubbs (Mrs. Hudson) as Christopher’s neighbor.

 

Warnings

 

Thematic elements, some strong language, sexual references, and drinking.

2014 Emmy Awards

 

For me, the Emmys were a bit of a mixed bag this year.  I loved some decisions, side-eyed others, and there were a few awards that genuinely surprised me in the midst of a lot of predictable ones.  As far as the telecast itself goes, I enjoyed Seth Meyers as a host.  He gives good smart-aleck without being overly biting.  All his digs at network TV made me smile, and, though there were a few too many McConaughey jokes overall, Meyers’s “Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey intro battle” with Amy Poehler was super fun.  Billy Crystal’s remarks about Robin Williams were lovely, and Weird Al’s rendition of the Game of Thrones theme was a delight.

 

Onto the awards.  First off, did Modern Family really need another win?  It’s a nice show, and I like it, but really?  It just makes me shake my fist all the more at the lack of love for The Mindy Project this year, or Community ever.  That said, I got a kick out of Ty Burrell’s speech “written by the kids of Modern Family.”  And as rote as Jim Parsons’s win was, I’m okay with it.  Maybe Sheldon’s possible aceness is bringing out my solidarity, but I still love Sheldon, and I thought he had a good year.

 

Drama was, predictably and well-deservedly, a near-sweep by Breaking Bad.  Of course it was going to win just about everything, and nobody was taking that trophy from Bryan Cranston.  And if Tyrion’s trial wasn’t enough to get Peter Dinklage another statue, I’m glad Aaron Paul won.  Still, that didn’t leave much love for other shows.  Maybe now that Breaking Bad is over, Hannibal can at least get a nomination or two (or twelve? please?) thrown its way.

 

Or a win for House of Cards, for that matter.  I’m surprised that we didn’t see a stronger showing from Netflix in general.  Kevin Spacey was my only pick for a possible Cranston upset, and I really wish Orange is the New Black had been better recognized.  As I hoped, though, the fabulous Uzo Aduba snagged a win for her sterling portrayal of Suzanne (too bad she got it at the pre-awards.  Bad form, Emmys!)

 

It was interesting to me that The Normal Heart won best TV movie.  I thought it was very well done, of course, but it’s always a little weird when something wins the top award in its genre and nothing else.  Writing, directing, acting – nada.  Fargo similarly took home few trophies (though it also grabbed a directing award,) but its best miniseries win wasn’t expected for me, since that show is so tight and insane and amazing. 

 

However, Sherlock’s snatching up of several top awards definitely surprised me.  To go from having zero Emmys (despite consistent nominations) to the triple whammy of best writing, lead actor, and supporting actor for a miniseries/TV movie is a big turnaround.  Have the Emmy voters joined tumblr?  I wish Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman had been around to accept their awards, though, especially Freeman.  I have a feeling he’d have been absolutely befuddled to win an Emmy, and that would’ve been some amusing television.

Top Five Independent Shorts: Buster Keaton

One of the things I love about Buster Keaton is how well he worked in making both feature-length and short films.  Before he started filming features, he made a slew of two-reel shorts that are crammed with creativity, energy, acrobatics, and some of the funniest work he ever did.  While the features spend time telling the story and give you room to breathe between gags, the laughs in many of Buster’s shorts are almost literally nonstop.  Depending on how motivated I am, I may start reviewing them more fully later, but for now, here are the absolute must-sees.

  

One Week (1920)

 

Buster and his new bride receive a build-it-yourself house kit as a wedding gift, and when her ex-beau sabotages the building process, the house they wind up with is one-of-a-kind.  The whole building is crooked, the front door is on the second story, and it’s prone to spinning like a merry-go-round when the wind picks up.  Absolutely hilarious, not to mention an engineering marvel.

 

Neighbors (1920)

 

Buster is in love with the girl across the fence, but the pair is kept apart by their squabbling parents.  The sheer number of gags Buster mines from a fence and a clothesline is incredible, and his persistent efforts to be with his girl are both enterprising and remarkably agile.  The standing-on-shoulders sequence alone is astounding.  And even simpler gags, like a pair of broken suspenders, are golden in Buster’s capable hands.

 

The Playhouse (1921)

 

This short is best known for the technical masterpiece of its opening sequence, in which Buster plays everyone onscreen:  playhouse performers, orchestra musicians, and audience members, at one point duplicating himself nine times in a single shot.  It’s so amazing that people forget the rest, which is a shame, because it’s excellent.  Highlights include some fantastic twin gags and Buster’s dead-on impression of a monkey.  Honestly, if you squint, you can’t tell the difference.

 

The Boat (1921)

 

Why did this make the list?  Damfino!  I love that this is a silent film whose biggest laugh is a pun told via telegraph – it’s so Buster.  Beyond that, the story of Buster and his family’s catastrophe-fraught maiden voyage on a homemade boat is fantastic.  Everything about the storm sequence is made of win, and you can never go wrong watching Buster try to lower a lifeboat.

 

Cops (1922)

 

Chase scenes are Buster’s catnip, and this short is one giant excuse to have Buster flee from an entire police force.  Thanks to a series of mishaps, he collects more and more uniformed pursuers and unleashes all manner of nimble tricks to avoid them.  There are street cars and fire escapes involved, and a sequence with a ladder that will leave you gaping in amazement at Buster’s dexterity – talk about iconic.

Doctor Who: Series 8, Episode 1 – “Deep Breath” (2014)

 

And so ends our eight months of waiting.  New season, new mystery, and most of all, new Doctor!  I’ll avoid spoilers for the various important goings-on, but more spoiler-phobic Whovians may still want to avert their eyes.

 

Plot first:  we’re back in Victorian London, which, these days, means another appearance by the Paternoster gang Vastra, Jenny, and Strax.  Though I still enjoy them, I feel like there are diminishing returns on this crew, especially Strax.  I thought he was just about perfect as the Sontaran nurse in “A Good Man Goes to War,” but he’s just been a violent buffoon since then.  It’s cheaper, less creative, and not as funny.  Anyway, the TARDIS finds its way to old London town with a bang (and a roar.)  There’s a dinosaur, a spate of mysterious “spontaneous combustions,” and a man with half a face.  For the most part, it holds together as a sci-fi romp, with a few thrills and some good action.

 

In terms of the alien plot, this might be one of my favorite Clara outings.  She’s able to be clever and brave, and she makes contributions to the story, although it seems like her most significant actions may continue to be making stirring speeches.  Is it too much to ask to see the woman do something?  The jury’s still out on whether or not we’ll get anything like concrete personality traits from her, but now that the whole Impossible Girl thing has been dealt with, I’m hopeful that she’ll be allowed to be a person instead of a mystery.  Seriously – free Clara!

 

The writing, courtesy of Moffat, is (unfortunately typically) rather heavy-handed.  I get that the new Doctor looks old, and that’s an adjustment, but the way the dialogue harps on it makes it seem like Peter Capaldi has a foot in the grave.  There’s way too much pointed speechifying about how he’s the same man and why anyone who loves him less due to his age is a horrible, shallow person.  It also repeatedly accuses Clara of being upset about “her boyfriend” (ugh) turning into some old guy and very insistently wants you to know that the new Doctor is done with flirting.  (Why it has to tell us over and over instead of just, you know, not flirting, is beyond me.)  It makes the episode feel defensive and self-conscious instead of owning itself.

 

If the above is a mixed bag, the important part – the new Doctor part – is almost uniformly wonderful.  It’s hard to be too definitive at this point, since there’s some major regeneration wonkiness going (the Doctor initially has trouble telling Clara and Strax apart,) but so far, I’m digging Twelve.  He’s weird and alien, an odd mix of cold and compassionate, with “independently angry” eyebrows and a mind that threatens to leave him two or three stops behind.  He seems to be a bit more serious than his recent predecessors, but he still makes amusingly-ADD non-sequiturs and has the old Doctor twinkle in his eye – I love the moment where he climbs out the window instead of using the door because it’s “more him.” 

 

PC is every bit as extraordinary as I figured he’d be.  Simultaneously energetic and thoughtful, funny, heartfelt, intense, and very, very Scottish.  He carries off the regeneration crisis well, and the episode’s best moments come from his exploration of his new self and his almost-shy attempts to convince Clara he’s still the Doctor without trying to give away how much it matters to him.  If the writing doesn’t let him down, he’ll be an absolutely superb Doctor; I can’t wait to see more.

Top Five Stories: The First Doctor

Tonight we meet the latest Doctor, and I’ll geek out about it in tomorrow’s post, but today’s is about the man who started it all.  Although One isn’t my favorite – that initial crankiness and crotchetiness almost feels like cognitive dissonance now – I still enjoy his era.  It’s so cool to watch the show find its feet, and One has a dynamite trio of companions right out of the gate (it’s just possible that you’ll find them heavily represented below.)  Here are my favorites of his:
 

“The Aztecs” (Series 1, Episodes 28-31)

 

The early years of Who had some nice pure historicals, entertaining adventures in the past with no alien involvement whatsoever.  This is one of them, not to mention a rare occurrence of the TARDIS seeking an Earth locale outside of Western Europe and the U.S.  Barbara is mistaken for a goddess and tries to change history, Ian lays the smackdown on some Aztec warriors, and the Doctor accidentally gets engaged.  What else could you possibly want?

 

“The Dalek Invasion of Earth” (Series 2, Episodes 4-9)

 

This Dalek story has some great tension, as everyone’s favorite genocidal pepper pots take over the Earth of the future, and the Doctor, Susan, Ian, and Barbara aid the resistance movement.  Barbara executes one of the most badass Dalek take-outs ever performed, and the final scene between the Doctor and Susan is gorgeous.

 

“The Reign of Terror” (Series 1, Episodes 38-43)

 

Team TARDIS visits the French Revolution!  Perfect vacation spot, right?  Another pure historical, and a terrific one.  It’s sadly incomplete, but the DVD has animated reconstructions of the two missing episodes.  Anyway, we get a fabulous disguise by the Doctor, and everyone tries to make it out with their heads still attached.  Good, suspenseful drama, and 18^th century France put less of a strain on the show’s budget than certain other settings, so the episodes look pretty great too.

 

“The Space Museum” (Series 2, Episodes 26-29)

 

Susan had left the companion trio by this time, but Vicki is a nice addition to the group.  In this serial, the dynamic quartet gets a glimpse of their own future when the TARDIS jumps a time track and they see themselves in suspended animation as museum exhibits.  Their efforts to prevent the future from happening make for an interesting, creative story.

 

“The Romans” (Series 2, Episodes 12-15)

 

One more pure historical to finish things off – they really helped keep the format fresh.  Here, the gang gets into trouble in ancient Rome.  There are unspeakably cute scenes between Ian and Barbara (they so got together in the end, right?), companions getting thrown to the lions, cases of mistaken identity, and a fire that the Doctor had absolutely nothing to do with.  Simply wonderful.

Richard III (circa 1592)

My self-assigned summer reading list included a tetrad of Shakespeare histories, all of which come to a head in this famous play.  I’m glad to have finally read it – with Shakespeare, it’s definitely a case of “so many plays, so little time.”  While I don’t find it as astonishingly well-written as my favorites of his, it’s a fine play about a fascinating character.

Reading through of the first 75% of the tetrad, the three Henry VI plays, I was surprised that Richard appears at the end of part 2 and takes a significant supporting role in part 3.  Richard III is so well-known, but I hardly ever hear people mentioning the Henry VI plays, so it’s strange to think of it as a conclusion to a larger story.  But now, having read all four plays in succession, I can’t quite imagine knowing it out of context.  Although it’s clearly the best-written of the four, the play itself exists best in conjunction with the other three.  (It helps to have read the Hollow Crown tetrad as well, written later but set earlier.  There are a handful of references to people and events from these plays that I wouldn’t have gotten otherwise.  This is what happens when you’re not up on your medieval English history – you have rely on what Shakespeare tells you.)

Anyway, Richard III is the story of how Richard, the deformed, duplicitous Duke of Gloucester, contrives against those standing between him and the crown, including his older brother and his young nephews.  A self-proclaimed villain, there’s nothing Richard won’t do to advance his aims.  His utter lack of compunction served his family well in the earlier plays, when his House of York wrestled the crown from the House of Lancaster and his oldest brother became king – he gladly got his hands dirty to further the cause of York.  Now, though, that same ambition has turned his own flesh and blood into enemies, and Richard isn’t an enemy you want to have.

It’s interesting to look at Richard from our modern viewpoint.  Where Shakespeare says “villain,” we would probably say “psychopath,” and indeed, many hallmarks of psychopathy are present and specifically acknowledged within his character.  He has no sense of remorse or empathy, and he views people as inconsequential pawns he uses for his purpose.  Though he’s not emotional (in earlier plays, he’s the only one not to weep when members of his family are killed,) he’s skilled at mimicking the requisite feelings and is a master manipulator who plays just about everybody. 

As far as the text goes, it’s rich with excellent lines.  Many of them come from Richard himself:  the dark dramatic irony in his deceptions, the hungry vigor in his soliloquies, and the scathing aspersions hiding under his barely-feigned niceties.  My biggest shock, quote-wise, comes at the very start, in line 1.  I honestly had to laugh when I discovered that “Now is the winter of our discontent” is immediately followed by “…Made glorious summer by this sun of York; / And all the clouds that lour’d upon our house / In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.”  So basically, everything is awesome and everyone who’s ever cribbed this quote is saying the exact opposite of this speech?  Yeah, sounds about right.

Warnings

Lots of heinous acts of villainy, a fair amount of violence (including murder and battle scenes,) and plenty of Elizabethan innuendos.