Lila82

The theme of this season seems to be one (or two) scene too few. In episode two, we needed just a little more seeing of the starvation that led them to eating Jackie, which would have made the transition from cannibalism to murder feel less abrupt. We know they're starving. We know they've moved past their horror and disgust over eating their teammate. But ritual murder? We needed more setup, to see the girls' faces and reactions as they agreed to sacrifice one of their own for the others to survive. Even the necklace needed like one line--yes, we can speculate that it's a symbolic passing of the torch from one victim to the next, but confirmation would have been nice. The writers said they intentionally featured Shauna's domestic life more heavily because they like Warren Cole and Sarah Desjardins so much, and it was a mistake. We lost precious screen time that should have been devoted to showing what was happening in the wilderness. I loathe the tell, not show approach to storytelling, because it makes me fill in the pieces, which makes me speculate on the characters' motivations when it should be the actual writers telling us who and what their characters are. Mari's breakdown was a welcome surprise. I don't need episode upon episode of girls crying, but it was one of the more true-to-life moments that have been lacking this season. Living in the wilderness, starving, and climbing a ladder to help your friend/frenemy/spiritual guide with a bed pan really sucks. I like seeing little moments like those, as it helps remind us amongst all the spiritual mumbo jumbo, these are teenage girls fending for themselves against nature. We don't get enough reminders that they're kids being forced to do what many adults would be incapable of. I wanted to know why they chose to do the murder in the living room. They know how much blood they'll need to clean up!

The very last thing Gerri would want is those photos getting out. Logan said it best last season (paraphrasing) that she's too old and used up for anyone to take the story seriously. Gerri isn't hiring the reputation team as a bargaining chip. She's in real danger of being Hillaryed and losing whatever clout she's built from loyal, competent service if she's caught up in a sex scandal with a younger, richer, more famous man. Roman could laugh it off as a weird kink but Gerri would never be taken seriously again. It's an interesting contrast to Shiv, who seems to think scandal and bad judgment will just roll off her back because she's rich and a Roy, even when people literally don't take her seriously to her face and she keeps on trying because she thinks she's owed power for simply existing. In this season in particular, the dichotomies between female characters has been fascinating. In one corner we have Marcia and Willa, the former escort, successfully achieving their goals from the traditionally female domestic sphere, using their power as wives and in Marcia's case, widow, to negotiate for what they want. Shiv is trying to have it both ways, playing with the boys while pregnant, and potentially failing on both fronts. It's a good contrast to Karolina and Ebba, the former being talented and loyal and still worried about finding her name on the "kill list" and the latter being indifferent and overtly terrible at her job, but succeeding because she managed to beat the boys at their own game. Maybe she did it through raw talent; maybe, like most of the other power players, it was through dumb luck. This episode wasn't depressing just because of its commentary about the current state of politics but because we saw how acutely the odds are stacked against the female characters. Even Rava paid the cost. She's the former wife and Ken's still (paraphrasing) "getting the info so he can make the best decision for us". Shiv is determined to be hoisted by her own petard, but does it really matter? Even when she wins, she loses.

HR professional checking in! While it's not uncommon for small orgs or startups to lack an HR person, even though they definitely should have one, Jack should know better on two levels: not to date a subordinate compliment sandwiches lead to reactions like Shandy's--the receiver focuses on the praise and doesn't compute the criticism-- and sometimes leads to lamb poop in the conference room. This season hasn't been perfect, and I could definitely do with less KJPR and an actual storyline for Sam Obisanya, but my biggest complaint is still Jamie's Jack Grealish hair. It's an assault on my eyes.

My guess is no--something like 90% of the Canadian population lives within a hundred miles of the US border. If they were six hundred miles off their original course, which means they headed north, there's almost no chance they're near a significant population center. The best they can still hope for is another random cabin and in the dead of winter, even more likely to be uninhabited. I read that scene differently. Jackie was exactly how we saw her onscreen, including the backhanded compliments and negging. I liked that Shauna chose to remember Jackie was she was--making fun of her mom having a million dollars, cutting through Shauna's bullshit about why she pursued Jeff--and I appreciate that she didn't see her as a villain, because she really wasn't. Jackie was selfish and self-centered and pathetically insecure, but she did love Shauna and was loyal in her own way. If the plane hadn't crashed, and Jackie hadn't died, their relationship probably wouldn't have survived high school, and if it did, in a very different form. I was the Shauna in a high school best friendship and we're still friends because we have been for thirty plus years, but it also took me two decades of setting boundaries and lowering expectations. I also think we'd both agree that we wouldn't choose each other if we met at this point in our lives but we have so much history that we'll always be connected in some way.

Even when they're having angry sex to "#1 Crush," I cannot bring myself to care about Shauna, Jeff, Shauna and Jeff, or Shauna and Adam. I'm not a huge fan of her wide-eyed passivity in the 1996 timeline either, but there's enough weirdness to distract. In the present...the flat affect reigns, but not much else. The music choices were not only spot on, but all hail the editing team for lining up "this is getting kind of gross" from Cornflake Girl with the moment Shauna decides to eat the ear. Related: of course Jeff would rock out, alone, to Papa Roach. Re: Javi My guess is that if he's really alive, he's the one that makes it to civilization and brings help. Shauna said run--maybe he never stopped!

I taught high school rather than elementary, and in NYC (pause for boos) but I could relate so much to Jacob in this episode. I was also a young, white woman teaching children of color, and it could feel impossible at times to relate to the kids. I also spent a lot of time questioning if I was the right person to be their teacher, because while I had the heart, what exactly were they learning from me? Anyone could teach history--shouldn't it be someone with a shared background, with a similar history, with experiences to which they could relate? Was I a white savior simply by being there? These were the questions I often asked myself and Jacob likely does too, and I appreciate the nuance with which the show discusses this dichotomy. So I loved watching Jacob unleash his authentic self and realizing that who he is rather than what he does is how he connects with his students. Jacob failed when he tried roasting the kids last season because it was't him; the improv was horrific but it was earnest and authentic and let his students see his real self. My first year, weighing in, and fully investing, in Edward v. Jacob was the moment my students realized I was a real person worth caring about. Who knew? I too need a "Stay Calm and Tucci On" mug re: Mr. Johnson I gasped loud enough to wake the dog when he used Janine's shawl as a cleaning rag in the cold open. Just that 30 second scene makes me glad he's a series regular now.

My favorite thing about this show is that it doesn’t just celebrate teachers, but specifically public school teachers—the same episode that featured Ava delivering a throwaway line about the local charter recruiting all the 3rd graders with high test scores not only highlighted, but celebrated the diversity of Abbott’s student body. I appreciate that juxtaposition. My only complaint is that there was no flashback of Sea Barbara in her element.

The casting on this show has always been top-notch, but all the props for choosing Jasai Chase Owens to play Naomi's son. I'm iffy on how old everyone is supposed to be, but regardless, they look so much alike that I can easily buy them as mother and child. Avasarala's sequined(!) pantsuit was to die for. I find Naomi's behavior consistent with her characterization. Filip is her weakness, most notably when she gave the protomolecule to Fred Johnson in an attempt to give the Belt equal footing, i.e., protecting Filip. Was her behavior foolish and reckless? Of course, but she can't see clearly when it comes to her son. She also last saw him as a baby or small child and her frame of reference is likely frozen there. She might know that he's nearly full-grown, but in her head he's also that little boy that needs her protection. I'm mostly excited to see her in the Belter universe. We got a bit of it when she as working on Tycho but I'm eager to learn more. We have yet to get a full backstory, but the little Naomi told (and to different individuals) made it seem like after Marco killed a bunch of people on one of the ships they were going to "ransom", she left and he did something to keep Filip from leaving with her. I assume we'll learn more as the season progresses.

Avasarala's wardrobe is always glorious, but this season, it's also reflective of her character development. I don't know if she's losing her soul to the election so much as her true self is being revealed. She's worn an increasing amount of pants this season and in the most recent episode, in the scene of her walking down the hallway, I wasn't sure she was wearing anything traditional at all until they panned down from her very masculine jacket to a more feminine skirt. We've been leading up to this moment since season one, when Frank told that story about realizing that even as a child, she'd do anything to win. She's hid these more aggressive qualities behind her feminine clothes and soft hair and jewelry, but as the pressure increases, the real Avasarala comes out, the "masculine" qualities she spent years hiding behind her Matriarch persona. It helps that moving to Amazon allows more cursing too :). I don't think it's necessarily a surprise that this is her narrative arc this season, but I wanted to highlight how much I enjoyed her clothes reflecting that journey.

Hi folks! I haven't posted over here in a long night or watched the show for four seasons, but I'm back to finish what I started, and it's at best..."meh". The first fifteen minutes were brilliant. There was barely any dialogue but we could feel the hopelessness, and crushing sense of foreboding doom. I thought I might go into palpitations myself just from watching. From there, it went downhill fast, mostly because I couldn't see a damn thing, but also because it was so cleanly resolved. The majority of characters lived and the Night King was neatly dispatched without any real consequences for the realm. I like payoff for my MacGuffins and I don't think Cersei will be it. I know she won't be it, because does anyone actually care who sits the iron throne? In the books, Cersei is my least favorite character, and the only one for whom I can't find a single redeeming quality, but she isn't this deranged, nor is she the epitome evil. She's gone from self-absorbed and short-sighted to simply hateful. And that's not who Cersei is. She's awful, but she's but one player in the game of thrones and making her the big bad is both unfair and ill- advised. We already hate Cersei. Make us work for our satisfying conclusion, writers. Don't just give it away! ETA: by far the best part of the episode was Davos playing air traffic controller for Drogon. It was an unintentional moment of hilarity, but nonetheless brought some levity to an otherwise violent episode.

I thought season two was awful for these exact reasons. Burke and Hare had me fooled was an excellent intro, particularly tying in the Punch & Judy shows to demonstrate Hare's increasing unraveling, but it went sharply downhill from there. Where was the feminist criticism for "Mirror, Mirror", ala "Black Stockings"? Elizabeth Bathory was a powerful widow with vast wealth and land holdings, both of which played a role how her arrest, trial, and imprisonment were approached. And yes, most likely the most prolific female killer in history, but still -- the historical context matters. "The Curse of the Orloj" was so terribly acted and written, that I promptly gave up. There's so much cool history and lore that went into the making of the clock, and it was pushed aside for a "Man in the High Castle" knock off? What happened to this show? What is the point anymore? Season one was uneven, but cohesive. We learned about origin stories for vampires and werewolves, and that Candice Bergen's dad was a huge asshole. "Black Stockings" was hokey, but Bridget Cleary's story is important. "Ghosts in the Attic" was interesting, but felt more like a History Channel special than part of this series. There's no historical context, or modern tie-in for the stories told. Whatever this show became isn't the "Lore" of season one and that's a bummer.

He actually said something along the lines of liking having someone in his life [Linc] that doesn't know about/isn't involved in the Cody drama. Which I guess is his way of confirming that Linc's main appeal, besides his body(!), is that Deran doesn't have to be Deran Cody with him. Which of course is an extension of "coming out", i.e., he'll never truly connect with someone if he isn't honest about who he is and what he does. The Adrian element is what confuses me. Deran clearly has real feelings for him, but is also pursuing more than "fun" with Linc, albeit something built on a lie. He still feels guilt over how he treated Adrian in the past, and yet, he's the most comfortable with him because Adrian sees through him and wants him anyway. I like Deran/Adrian scenes because it always brings out a beautiful vulnerability in Deran, but I'm also ready for it to move forward. So in conclusion, Deran, listen to your brother. Please learn from his mistakes. Be selfish and take one thing for yourself, which is the last thing either Linc or Adrian needs, but would make this viewer happier. Also: Lena! She might have been the saddest of sad children, but she made Pope human. I'll miss that part of his personality.

I finished "Leviathan's Wake" on Wednesday and started "Caliban's War" last night and it's likely because I started the show before the books, but I so prefer the former. The books' world building is riveting, the characters are interesting, and the overall narrative is awesome, but the writing is terrible. Like, I almost put down the book when Holden described his prostate "as dry as the Sahara desert" while reminiscing about brothels. That's a middle school level metaphor and it rarely gets any better, which also made it harder for me to connect with the characters. Bad prose is bad prose, even when it's telling a cool story, and it makes the characters more one-dimensional than they actually are. Further, since the show isn't limited to two perspectives, the non-POV characters are fleshed out far more than in the books. Naomi is a fully-formed character, with tangled loyalties and a complex past, while in the book(s), she's a cipher. I don't think we know anything about her beyond her engineering talents. Same story with Amos and Alex, and they get even less air time in the books. Amos' backstory is one of my favorite things about the show. We learn so much from so little and Wes Chatham is amazing at making Amos feel real and authentic while speaking in a monotone and wearing a blank expression. I like having more screen time with them and letting the actors tell stories that are missing from the novels. And yet, my least favorite scene in both book and show was Miller yelling at Julie's boyfriend(?) for "letting her go", as if either man had any say in a grown woman making her own decisions. Fuck you, Miller. His relationship with Muss was uncomfortable and manipulative, and his obsession with Julie was creepy and unhinged. I didn't mind him projecting his own failures into the case, but when the fixation turned into Julie herself, I found myself reading and watching with increasing levels of unease. The Madonna/Whore trope has never done women any favors and that's what Miller did here: he idealized a woman he never met, made her bear the burden of his redemption, without ever caring about <i>her</i>. Julie Mao was this thing to save him and give him purpose, but we never got to know her, the real her, beyond wanting to do good. That's not a woman, that's an avatar of one, especially in the book when she becomes a literal angel to guide him through his own misadventures. For all Holden's sanctimony, he owned his own decisions and grappled with his guilt without a pretty young thing to prod him along the way. We don't need any more portrayals of women as innocent victims and virtuous naifs that float through life to serve as broken men's consciences. It's a tried trope, but also a dangerous one, and significantly reduced my enjoyment of both the first book and 1.5 seasons of the show. There are always grumblings when a TV/movie version of a book starts veering from canon, but I'm on the side of the series in this debate. It's taken the material and kept to the spirit of the story and the essence of the characters, and elevated it to a genuine commentary on current events. It feels very relevant -- almost unsettling -- as the different elements of the military-industrial complex are exposed and megalomaniacs inch closer to MAD :(. I'm also fascinated by the microaggressions each group throws at the others, like the scenes of Havelock learning Belter slang in season one and everyone scoffing at the "Belter Food" in the most recent episode. Those three second, seemingly throw away lines said so much more about the relationships between the characters and their ideologies than the pages and pages of inner monologue in the books. TV has the benefit of show rather than tell, but the clunkiness of the writing in the books kills any subtlety. I'll report back after "Caliban's War" and see if my feelings have changed. As the world expands and more characters gain perspectives (already loving being in Bobbie's head!), I might prefer the books to the show, but as is, the tighter writing, stronger characterization, and tangible connections to real life are putting me on the side of the show.

Oscar's speech was ON POINT. These men choose this life and they know the consequences for themselves and their families. Crying crocodile tears for ballplayers and their multi-million dollar deals while military families go through the same thing but with significantly less pay and higher stakes. Blip's speech was equally great. Ginny is earnest and kind, but she's also needy and naive. She makes everything about her because everyone else makes everything about her, and she has trouble separating the two. It was a good lesson for her, learning when to pull back and find balance in the complicated power dynamics of her personal relationships. The fewer flashbacks, the better. The audience is smart enough, and the writers should be clever enough, to convey Ginny's journey without falling anvils and Michael Beach's terrible acting. Amelia/Mike are easily the worst part of the show. I like Mike. I like Amelia. I don't mind them together romantically, but if I wanted to watch grown adults unironically act like teenagers, I'd watch a CBS comedy. Enough already.

This show went from my only must-see show of the week to a show I'm embarrassed to admit I watch. My biggest frustration isn't anything Lexa/Lincoln/Pike/Luna related, but that I watched 16 episodes of television and absolutely nothing happened. Bellamy and Clarke save the day, but there's more work to do. Check. Bellamy believes he succeeds at his redemption arc. Check. Lexa and Clarke's sexual tension is resolved. Check. Lincoln suffers repeated acts of brutal violence. Check. Octavia wails into the wilderness while she mourns Lincoln. Jasper and Monty come to odds over wanting to live in a place with clean clothes and pie and potentially a girl. Check. SERIOUSLY. 90% of this season was gratuitous violence with character regression thrown in for good measure. I'll give the writers a grudging 10% for balancing screen time and saving Indra (YES!!!), but the entire season was filler. 3x9 was literally a retread of 3x10 - Bellamy said so himself - but with more shooting! I couldn't tell you why ALIE destroying the world was important other than it gave the characters something to do. Jasper's one sentence admission about life sucking doesn't make up for the ten minutes of waterboarding we got to suffer through. I don't need to like the overarching plot, but I need to understand it. I don't. The premiere had such promise, these broken, haunted people living with the consequences of their unfortunate choices and trying to figure out how to do more than survive. That should have been the backbone of this season, and the very valid choices ALIE gave them in contrast to the pain and regret they had to bear every day. That would have made a whole lot more sense. But, you know, that story wouldn't have included crucifying Kane or hanging Abby or shooting Lincoln in the freaking head. Violence doesn't = good story telling. I hope, but know it's wishful thinking to believe, that the writers learned their lesson. Give us back our characters with a side of plot. That's what drew me into the show in the first place.